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roosterforme · 4 months ago

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Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley gets the update he's been waiting for. You get something you weren't expecting. Neither of you can tell the other how you're feeling.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, romantic Bradley, 18+

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

You drove Bradley's Bronco back to his house, dragged yourself back inside, and climbed back in bed. You cried so hard when you watched him carry his duffle bag into the airport, you had painful hiccups for twenty minutes afterwards. Now you were emotionally drained and on the cusp of a headache, and this was only the first day.

With your cheek on Bradley's pillow, you pulled the covers over your head and took a few deep breaths. He didn't know much about his deployment, but the communication blackout was designed to keep you from learning anything. If something happened to him, it might be weeks before you heard about it. Your heart ached as you thought about how lonely he was going to feel after he made it a point to tell you how much he loved getting mail from your class last time.

You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket, and you scrambled to get it out.

About to take off. I love you, Gorgeous. I'll let you know when I land.

Well, you had about six hours to kill until you would hear from him again, which felt bad enough. Then seven full weeks after that. You typed back to him with fresh tears in your eyes, and then you tried to sleep, but the hiccups came back. When you moved to the couch, it felt too cold. You were tempted to call Natasha, but if you couldn't even make it a handful of hours without Bradley, you didn't think she would be able to help you.

It would start to get better. It would have to. When your winter break ended, you'd be back in your classroom with your students. You could dive into your lesson plans for the new year. You could focus on teaching. You could do this. Because if you found out the hard way that you couldn't, then you had no business being with Bradley.

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Bradley was given a tiny room in the barracks on base in Norfolk, and he spent the entire night talking to you on the phone. Literally six hours straight before he passed out, sound asleep, hanging halfway off the bed with his phone connected to the charger. One of the last things he remembered you saying was, "As soon as you know if it's San Diego or Norfolk, let me know. I love you."

The following morning, he was so exhausted, he was practically dizzy as he met with his commanding officer, Admiral Walker, for this new special deployment. Even his arm felt heavy as he saluted Walker in his office. It was barely seven o'clock which equated to four in the morning in San Diego, and he knew it would take him a few days to get caught back up on sleep at this point. But every second of talking to you was worth it.

"Lieutenant Bradshaw. Welcome back to the Atlantic Fleet," Walker told him, gesturing to the empty chair in the office.

"Thank you, Sir," he replied, even though he was far less than thrilled to be back in Virginia at all. The prospect of a change of station could not have come at a worse time when he spent the flight from California looking at engagement rings on his phone.

As Bradley sat down, the older man said, "We never wanted to lose you to the Pacific in the first place, so I'm sure you can understand why you'll be staying on the east coast after your seven weeks on the Gerald R. Ford is complete."

His heart sank to his feet, and he felt like he was going to throw up. "Sir?" Bradley asked. "That's it? There's no chance of me returning to North Island?"

When the response he got was a raised eyebrow, Bradley pressed his lips into a line. This man wasn't going to give a shit that he owned a house in Coronado or that he was in love with the most beautiful woman in the world who happened to work in Mira Mesa. Something told him that keeping his mouth shut was the better option right now, even though he felt like punching a hole in the wall and flipping the desk.

Walker shuffled some papers on his desk. "Plans still need to be finalized, but it is our goal, and the goal of the US Navy, to change your station to Norfolk."

The words echoed in Bradley's mind. He couldn't decide if he should tell you about this yet. It wasn't like he had signed paperwork in his hand. Until he did, as far as he was concerned, he was going back to Top Gun and the love of his life. He knew you were stressed and concerned enough as it was, and he didn't want you to have to dwell on this unless it was finalized.

"Once aboard the carrier, mission details will become available to you and the other aviators," Walker informed him. "I have a folder with your bunk assignment and some more information that you can take with you right now. You'll have access to your phone for about another hour, but as soon as you report to the carrier, it will need to be shut down and locked up. Are we clear, Lieutenant?"

Before Bradley could even respond, there was a sharp knock at the door. Walker heaved a weary sigh as his gaze left Bradley's face, and he barked, "Come in."

Of all the faces he knew from North Island, Bradley wasn't exactly sure if it was a friendly one, but when the door opened, Admiral Simpson came strolling inside in his service khakis. He couldn't fathom why his meeting was being interrupted by Cyclone, but he sat quietly with the folder in his hands.

"Admiral Walker," Beau Cyclone greeted, voice as stern as ever. "You never returned my calls, and red eye flights the week of Christmas are not something I find endearing."

Walker stood behind his desk with all of his accolades hanging on the wall behind him, and Bradley jumped to his feet as well. "Admiral Simpson," Walker replied, voice dripping with disdain. "There was no need for you to fly out in person to release your pilot to my fleet."

Bradley could hear Cyclone's knuckles crack as he watched his eye twitch. He was somehow caught in the middle of this, but it looked like the Top Gun admiral was in no mood to be outmaneuvered and lose a member of his team. Bradley silently goaded him on while he stood there completely still.

"I'm not releasing anyone to you. That's not how this works," Cyclone barked. "If you can't manage your fleet, you don't get to poach from mine."

The admirals seemed to be in a competition to see whose face could get redder. "Admiral Simpson, I'm sure you'll find my rank alone is reason enough for-"

"You do not outrank me," Cyclone interrupted, voice loud but calm. Then he turned toward Bradley with his jaw clenched and said, "Lieutenant Bradshaw. You are dismissed. Please board the USS Gerald R. Ford on time for your deployment."

"Yes, Sir," he replied, saluting both men before walking back out into the hallway on slightly unsteady legs. He paused, hoping to hear some more of their conversation or an outright blow up that would give him a clue as to what the fuck was going on, but instead he walked the rest of the way to the barracks to collect his duffle and head to the docks.

With his phone in his hand once again and his bag slung over his shoulder, Bradley called you. He knew it was early and he'd be waking you up, but time was tight now. And your voice was the only thing that would keep him sane at the moment.

"Bradley," you sighed a second later, and he pressed his phone tighter to his ear.

"Baby, I miss you so much," he promised, heart aching. He swallowed hard and decided not to bring up anything that was going on since he didn't have a completely clear understanding of it himself. "I'm about to board the carrier."

He could hear you crying, and he wanted to kick himself. "Just come back safely. That's all I want. As long as you're safe, that's all that matters to me, okay?"

He was having a hard time keeping his own tears at bay. "Me, too. We'll figure out the rest of it later, Gorgeous. Take care of yourself. Write in the journal. And don't forget to check the mail."

"I love you, Bradley!"

"I love you so much."

As soon as he ended the call and turned off his phone, he had to walk through a small building for security screening. It was there that his bag and phone were taken from him. When he exited the other side, his duffle was handed back to him, but his phone was not.

"Sorry, Lieutenant," the petty officer told him with a shrug when he glared. "I'll tag it for you and return it when you get back to Norfolk. At least it's not a long deployment."

Bradley couldn't even argue with that. It wasn't that long in the grand scheme of things. He'd been overseas for a full twelve months at a time when he was younger. This should have felt like nothing, but he knew it would feel like the worst one. He hefted his bag higher on his shoulder and started to head for the bunk that would be his for the duration. There was no sense in standing on deck when there was nobody who would be looking for him to see him off.

He made it down two hallways before a loud voice echoed off the walls around him. "Lieutenant Bradshaw." When he turned, Admiral Simpson was heading his way, face so red it was almost purple. Bradley's heart sank.

"Yes, sir?"

The other man pulled his composure together, sighing like an angry bull. "While you will be under the command of Admiral Walker for this deployment, you will fly directly back to San Diego when you return to port in Norfolk. You'll be presented with the paperwork today."

Bradley's jaw dropped open. "I'm returning to the Pacific Fleet, Sir?"

He got one firm nod in response. "I told you last week that I would do what I could to retain you."

This was honestly the best case scenario, and Bradley could feel some of his tension melt away. "You weren't kidding," he mumbled before clearing his throat. "Thank you, Sir. Being in San Diego is important to me."

"Fly safely, Lieutenant. See you in seven weeks," Cyclone barked before turning on his heel and walking toward the ramp back down to the dock.

Bradley pumped his fist in the air. "Fuck, yeah," he whispered, spinning on the spot. He would get to go back to the station he preferred in North Island as well as his friends, but most importantly, he would get to return to you. There would be no stress of packing and moving and hoping you were still willing to come with him. He could stay in Coronado.

When he slid his hand into his pocket to get his phone out to call you back, he froze. "God damn it."

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If waiting for emails and letters was bad before, this was torture. The early days of getting to know Bradley through written notes left you with constant butterflies in your tummy, but now it felt like you were walking around with a lead weight instead. You constantly caught yourself reaching for your phone to text him before setting it back down in frustration.

You hadn't heard from him since before he stepped onto the aircraft carrier, and that was four days ago. Today was New Year's Eve, and at least you had the wine bar with Natasha to look forward to. While you got dressed and ready to go, you couldn't help but put in just the bare minimum amount of effort. What was the point when your boyfriend wasn't even here to give you kisses along your neck and call you Gorgeous? You pouted at your reflection in the bathroom mirror and put the cap on your lip gloss before even using it.

"You look nice," Nat said as you climbed in the front seat of her car. You turned to look at her with one eyebrow raised.

"I'm wearing Bradley's old sweatshirt with a pair of leggings that are starting to get a hole in the crotch."

She started cackling as she pulled away from the curb. "Well, you still look nice."

"Thanks," you said softly, watching the houses go by.

As Nat turned toward the highway to head up to Oceanside, she asked, "How are you making out?"

You pressed your lips together for a few seconds, trying to make sure you weren't going to cry. "I'm just having a hard time being off from work while he's gone. It's... harder than I thought it would be. I can't wait to return to my classroom in a few days."

"I'm sure that will make it easier," she agreed. "You'll be so busy, time will start to fly by. Oh, I forgot to ask if you got any interesting mail at Bradley's house since he left?"

You shook your head. "I barely remember to check the mailbox most days. Why?"

"Don't worry about it," she replied smoothly. "You'll be back to work in a few days, but in the meantime, we've got merlot and chardonnay to keep your mind occupied."

"Sounds like you're talking about two hot French men," you said with a laugh.

"I could be! You don't even know!"

Now both of you were laughing. And you were still laughing when you actually did order a glass of merlot and a glass of chardonnay. You and Nat enjoyed some wine flights and cheese platters, and she regaled you with stories about Bradley from flight school.

"When he was twenty-two, he probably weighed a hundred and twenty pounds," she said with a smirk. "He was such a nerd, too. God, it was so bad." You were trying to stifle your laughter as she added, "Once he really started working out and grew the mustache, he thought he was hot shit. He's still a fucking nerd."

"He kind of is," you agreed through your giggles.

"But he's a good one," she promised. "Wears his heart on his sleeve too often, but I don't think he has to worry about you breaking it."

You ran your hand along the sleeve of his sweatshirt. "Never."

Once the two of you were filled with cheese and sober enough to get back in the car, you paid for your adventure with the gift card Bradley gave you, only to find out it had five hundred dollars on it.

"Natasha! We need to come back like four more times," you said as you signed the slip.

"I don't see any issue with that," she muttered, leaving cash for a tip. "I think I'll write Bradley an email and thank him for funding girls' day so he can read it when he gets back to Norfolk."

"I think he'd like that."

You started thinking about the journal sitting on the nightstand in his bedroom. Every night before you fell asleep, you'd been pouring your heart and thoughts out into the thing, but even the mention of the word Norfolk had you fretting again. You managed to keep up the conversation with Bradley's best friend as she drove you back to Coronado, but perhaps you should keep most of your things packed after you moved your stuff to his house. What if you had to move to Virginia when the school year ended?

"Thanks for driving," you told her when she pulled up to Bradley's driveway to let you out.

"Anytime," she said, waving you off. "We'll go back up again soon." When you leaned in to give her a hug, she told you, "Don't forget to check the mail."

"Okay."

You weren't sure exactly what her deal was since Bradley couldn't send you anything, but if she wanted you to, then you would. You already promised your boyfriend you'd keep an eye on anything unusual that arrived, so as you walked up to the front door, you took a peek inside the mailbox. Empty. Just like the house. You curled up on the couch with the journal and started to write your daily entry.

I heard from a very reliable source (Natasha) that you were and still are a nerd. I'm going to need to see some pre-stache photos of you when you get home. Your best friend is a wealth of information when you get some wine in her, and I had a great time with her today.

But I miss you. So much. Sometimes it knocks the breath out of my lungs. Your house is too cold and quiet without you here, hogging the couch and eating snacks. I'm looking forward to school starting up in a few days. It'll be a little less lonely when I have eighteen kids telling me what they got for holiday gifts. Of course I'll have to tell them they won't get a visit from their favorite aviator for a while. We'll just be nineteen sad pen pals.

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On January second, you were working on your lesson plans while wearing Bradley's gym shorts and eating potato chips. Tomorrow you'd get back into a routine with work, but first you were going to allow yourself one last day of being kind of pitiful. You bit off more than you could chew with Bradley, and now you were paying the price.

You sporadically started crying at random times throughout the day, and it was only made worse by the overwhelming feeling of being alone. If you could barely make it a week without hearing from him, how were you going to make random deployments with no communication your lifestyle? Why did you even think you could?

While you were crunching your way through some potato chips, you heard something thump on the front porch. The sound made you jump on the couch, and you set your snack down on the table and crept to the front door. When you peeked outside, there was nobody there, but when you cracked the door open, you saw a box. A fairly large box. Addressed to you.

"Oh my god," you gasped. It was from Bradley. According to the date stamped next to your name, he somehow sent a box from the post office in San Diego last week. "Oh my god!"

You grabbed it and kicked the door shut, almost tripping on your way back to the coffee table. When you tried to claw at the tape, you almost broke your nails. "Scissors," you shouted, running for the kitchen drawer by the sink where your boyfriend kept a random assortment of junk. Then you walked quickly back to the couch and started to cut into the box.

Natasha had to be behind the arrival of the box, but you couldn't fathom what could possibly be inside. If Bradley wanted you to have something, he could have simply given it to you before he left. Your heart was pounding as you set the scissors down and looked inside.

"Bradley," you gasped, tears filling your eyes as those familiar butterflies zoomed and swooped around in your belly. You'd been so upset about missing out on his letters, he sent you a whole box of them. There were dozens of envelopes and little treats filling the box nearly to the top, but a neon orange envelope with OPEN ME FIRST written on it caught your eye. You pulled it out of the box and tore into it.

Hey, Gorgeous,

I'm thinking about you right now. Guaranteed. It doesn't matter when you get this box or when you read this note, I'm thinking about how much I love you. And if I'm asleep, I'm dreaming about us eating Thai food on the beach in front of a sunset that is nowhere near as beautiful as you.

I hope you realize there was no way you weren't going to get some letters from me while I'm deployed. I would never let that happen. Somehow, you fell in love with me this way in the first place, and more than anything, I want you to feel as loved as I do. So I filled this box with little notes and long, rambling love letters and things I thought you might like. When you read the individual envelopes, you'll know what to do.

Please fill that journal up for me. I can't wait to read it in seven weeks. I'm missing you like crazy, and I selfishly hope you're missing me just as much. I love you.

Yours Truly,

Bradley

With shaking hands, you set the note down on the orange envelope and swiped at your tears. You never dreamed you would meet a man this romantic, but somehow you did, and he became your boyfriend. "Oh, Bradley," you whispered, picking up a stack of envelopes and reading what was written on each one.

Open me when you've had a bad day

Open me when you really want some coffee

Open me when you need a laugh

Open me when you're in bed

Open me when you need a girls' night

Open me with your class

You flopped down onto the couch and kicked your feet in the air. "Bradley!" you shrieked, voice breaking as you started to cry. You hugged the letters to your chest and let the warm feeling of being loved wash over you and fill your heart. He was unbelievable. He was perfect. He was everything you wanted. And somehow you loved him a little more and missed him a little less with this box on the coffee table.

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He's so romantic. He's taking care of Gorgeous from afar! He's coming home to San Diego, but she doesn't even know it! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @daggerspare-standingby

PART 21

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mokulule · 6 months ago

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The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 16

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason) Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Part 16:

Jason carefully kept his writing legible as he wrote down the heating instructions. Considering Ghost seemed to be living off granola bars he was not taking any chances.

There were signs Ghost had returned a few times. The bag and calibrator was gone of course, and the sandwiches were disappearing. It wasn’t good enough. Ghost needed more than sandwiches, it was better than living solely on granola bars, but it was not enough. He needed something more energy dense - hence the meat and vegetable stew and the mashed potatoes he’d made, packed in portions for easy reheating. But he had to make sure it was easy, he didn’t want to risk it being too bothersome and him not eating any.

Slowly, deliberately he put the pen down so he didn’t break it and laid his hands down flat on the kitchen island. Jason was in control, not the pits. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, counting the seconds…

…seven… eight…

Carefully he pushed the voice away that insisted he just lay a trap instead of all this tip-toeing around. It would be all too easy, Tim had found out how to short-circuit his powers. It hadn’t lasted more than an hour or two, but really there was no reason they couldn’t just attach some sort of device to him and repeat the small EMP charge every hour - it would be easy.

It would be horrible.

It was not how Jason wanted to go about it. Fucking Pits. Fucking intrusive thoughts. He hung his head taking deep breaths. He just wanted a little bit of peace of mind, was that too much to ask?

A half-choked gasp sounded behind him and he spun around wide-eyed. There, across the living room section of the open plan apartment was Ghost halfway through the far wall. His eyes were wide and looked as shocked as Jason felt.

Jason didn’t dare breathe as he slowly raised his empty hands. One wrong move and he could ruin everything. He swallowed dryly and ever so slowly he stepped to the side around the kitchen island and backwards, away from Ghost, deeper into the kitchen, cornering himself, leaving all exits free - even if Ghost didn’t technically need any. Ghost followed his movements warily only moving his head, his body completely frozen, still only halfway through the wall.

Jason’s back hit the cupboards. It was as far as he could remove himself. It was all he could do. The ball was in Ghost’s court.

Please don’t run.

Jason didn’t think he could handle that one more time.

Oo o oO

Danny kept his eyes locked on the currently helmet-less not ghost. His heart rabbited in his chest and his whole body felt coiled like a spring, torn between running or going forward. He was terrified, but he also yearned-

Danny had become complacent. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but he cursed himself for it now. He’d just moved thoughtlessly through the wall and his ghost sense had only had time to warn him when his eyes could do just as well. The barely there mist had fizzled uselessly out of his mouth when he gasped.

Helmet moved carefully away from Danny, as far away as he could in the kitchen. His hands were raised as if in surrender. He looked as harmless as a six foot tank could, which to be fair, it wasn’t the size of the man, that scared Danny. No, it was the fact that his entire body screamed trap. Danny was not keen on a repeat of his powers being gone, and the risk, the knowledge of it, it threatened to tear apart his painstakingly assembled composure.

Red Helmet might have taken him away from the other vigilantes, but he was still one of them. Danny just could not let himself trust him and it hurt, deeper than his still fucked up ribs. It hurt just to keep his core in a chokehold to stop it from calling to him. Never mind the near irresistable longing; Danny wanted so badly to go to him.

Danny couldn’t let himself.

Yet it was Helmet, not Danny, cornered right now. Caught in the act of something at the kitchen island. There was a small piece of paper on the island and Danny was curious.

And there were also still so many unanswered questions. How could he hear Danny but not respond? What was that thing about the anger he’d mentioned? Why had he given Danny back his backpack and the spectral calibrator? The calibrator in particular, because that one strictly speaking didn’t belong to Danny. Why was he stocking up food in an apartment he clearly didn’t live in? For Danny?

All were questions he couldn’t get answers to by running away.

Danny just had to keep his instincts on a tight leash.

Watching warily for any sudden movements, Danny slowly phased the rest of the way into the apartment. His beat up sneakers barely made a sound as he touched down on the wooden floors, but still Danny flinched.

Their eyes met and both held their breath.

Helmet looked away first. In fact he pointedly looked anywhere but at Danny now, seemed very intent on studying the counter now picking at non-existent dirt.

Somehow him not looking made it easier to walk closer and he carefully did. There was a whole kitchen island between them - that had to be enough for Danny’s paranoia.

He now stood where Helmet had stood when he came through the wall, he could pick up the paper.

It was heating instructions - for him.

His resolve crumbled and the paper crinkled as he clutched it like his life depended on it. Such a little detail. Not just the food left here, but instructions. When was the last time anyone had cared like this?

“Why-” His voice broke and tears prickled at his eyes. He cleared his throat and swallowed before trying again. “Why are you doing this?”

He looked from Danny to the note in his hand, seemed to mentally discard something, before admitting quietly, “I know what starving is like.”

Danny balked. “I eat.”

“I took a backpack full of protein bars off you.”

Danny grimaced. Just eating the sandwiches left for him here had been a vast improvement. So what if he didn’t eat well, he ate enough to survive. The fact that Danny could cling to existence through force of will was something he didn’t want to examine - his human half was still alive that had to be what mattered.

“So this anger thing,” Danny forcefully changed the subject like a bull bursting into a China shop, “tell me about it.”

Helmet tensed and that in turn made Danny tense. He might have overstepped. The moment was long and drawn out as Danny waited for the other shoe to drop. Slowly, Helmet let out a long sigh and forcefully relaxed his body. It didn’t put Danny entirely at ease, but it helped.

“There’s not much to tell,” he faked at nonchalance but there was something tightly leashed in his voice.

Danny didn’t buy it for one second. “Try again.”

There was a grimace and it looked almost like there was some sort of internal fight going on, until eventually he spoke.

“I got exposed to some nasty shit, ever since then I’ve had anger issues. I only realized once they were gone how pervasive they were.”

He looked away.

“I have hurt people - killed people - I thought they deserved it, but I’m not so sure anymore, not for all of them.” And there was pain there, in his voice, in his face, this was a hard thing to admit, not just to himself, but out loud to someone else.

Danny’s heart ached for him. The silence stretched between them and Danny prompted gently, hesitantly, because he didn’t understand this part himself: “And I make it better?”

“For about two days, give or take.” There was an affected casualness in the tone, but Danny noticed the way his hands clenched into tight fists. It had been about two weeks since Danny had last been in a room with the man. Two weeks since Danny had had any physical contact. He harshly clamped down the projection of longing before it could escape his grasp.

It was, Danny realized, no wonder that Helmet had chased him so vehemently. He could not only hear Danny’s call for him, but he had something of his own he struggled with. Something that Danny could apparently do something about, or rather his core song, if Danny was putting the pieces together right.

But Helmet wasn’t chasing now. It must have been two torturous weeks.

“You have found a way to nullify my powers, why not just use that?”

Helmet’s jaw clenched. “It’s not exactly nice.”

“Didn’t stop you two weeks ago.”

“I had nothing to do with that!” He snarled taking a step forward eyes glowing ectoplasmic green.

Danny took a step back at once cautious and intrigued. Not a ghost, but definitely something.

It looked like it took great effort, but he stepped back, plastered himself back against the cupboard and his eyes were blue again. Softly, he whispered “I only ever wanted answers.”

He wanted help. Danny’s breath caught. He was asking Danny for help, even if it wasn’t in those specific words. Danny looked down at the handwritten note in his hand. Helmet hadn’t planned for meeting today. He’d been just as shocked as Danny. He’d written him instructions with no guarantee Danny would ever help him, despite struggling with this anger.

Danny did not owe him anything, Danny was not beholden to anyone in this dimension, but he was asking for help.

Danny hesitantly stepped around the counter.

Mentally he countered each argument for why this was stupid.

He took a step forward. There was no trap. Danny chose to believe him when he said he didn’t want to use whatever device that had been on him.

Danny took another step forward, and step after step until he was right in front of him. Danny didn’t look up to see whatever expression may be on his face, it was easier like this standing face to chest. And it was a nice chest, wearing a red henley worn soft and fuzzy through countless washes. It was easy to take the last step into his space and lean his forehead forward to rest against him.

It was harder to let go of the tight ball he’d pulled his emotions into.

“Can I?” Helmet asked, arms hovering slightly away from him.

“Yeah,” Danny replied hoarsely, and then arms settled around him hesitantly, warm, human - not tight or trapping him, it was considerate but not what Danny needed. A wounded sound left his chest and he pressed closer. He clenched his eyes shut but still tears ran wet tracks down his cheeks as he finally gave in - let go.

His core was a cacophony of grief warring with happiness. Melancholy and joy twisting and churning neither one really winning. Danny was so tired and worn he couldn’t focus on what he should feel. All this and maybe he couldn’t even help him?

If he couldn’t get the happiness going what use was he?

But then the arms tightened around him and it was a proper hug. He was being held. There was a hand in his hair tugging him into the crook of Helmet’s neck, as he bent slightly over to surround him. Danny’s forehead against the crook of his neck, skin again skin. A warm body. A fast heartbeat in his ears.

He was not alone.

His core thrummed with the knowledge.

Danny lost time.

It was terrifying. It could have five minutes or an hour that they stood there for all Danny knew. He had been so lost in the warmth of human contact and the content song of his core.

A shiver of fear went up his spine and he tensed.

Last time he had fallen asleep. That, he could at least understand. He’d been extremely exhausted after everything that happened. But this was different. Danny didn’t even know if he would have noticed Helmet moving him - he hadn’t; they still stood in the exact same spot.

He made to draw away and for one heart-stopping fraction of a second, Danny thought Helmet wouldn’t let him go. But that was uncharitable, he had to give Helmet time to even realize what he was doing. Just cause Danny’s brain was running a mile a minute, and a second seemed like an eternity, didn’t mean it was to anyone else - and Helmet did let him slide out of his arms. Danny looked up, eyes just a bit wide. He was trying to stay calm, he was. He didn’t know how to interpret Helmet’s expression. His eyes met Danny’s, his brows were doing something, his mouth was a line downturned at the corners. His arms were raised, drawn back just slightly after Danny slipped away.

Danny took another step back.

Helmet didn’t move. Danny realized suddenly what the expression was; he looked sad.

Danny’s core pulsed painfully, and his breath stuttered. He wanted to go back to that embrace, he wanted to stay and forget everything else.

It was all he could do not to run, because those feelings were terrifying in and of themselves. He turned and he carefully walked to the far wall. He stopped there, clenched his trembling hands. His eyes trailed an uneven line on the white wallpaper.

This wasn’t just about him.

“The day after tomorrow,” he said, loud enough he was sure Helmet could hear him. Then he couldn’t hold back anymore and he threw himself through the wall. His heart raced in his chest all the way back to his lair.

It went against every cautious bone in his body to reveal he’d be somewhere at a specific time, even such a vague promise as the day after tomorrow. It was as much as he could get himself to do.

It wasn’t just about him.

Alright and that's probably it for the rapid updates, this part mostly needed edits to fit better with what actually ended up happening in the earlier parts and I hadn't written the ending, I wasn't sure I'd get the time today, but I did so, tadaa!

Things are going better! It's not all misery anymore.

Danny wasn't quite this terrified early in the story, but then he felt relatively safe in his ability to get out of situations. Having his powers knocked out, really brought up a boatload of trauma. It's just also really making him out of sorts to be that at odds with his core.

I hope it makes sense.

#dp x dc #dead on main #Jason is catnip to Danny #missed connections

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aerinaga · 6 months ago

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my daddy p.

paige bueckers x reader

warnings: smut (eating out, slight bdsm)

note: in honor of the cake that says daddy p 😙 happy fathers day special

you and paige were on the way to her fathers house to celebrate fathers day.

you were going to celebrate fathers day with her side of the family, since your family was out of the country at the moment. paige’s family was always so outgoing, they never made you feel like you’re out of place.

you and paige were currently in the car, she looked beautiful as per usual. i mean, there wasn’t any day where she looked ugly. her right hand was on your inner thigh, rubbing it in small circles. gosh, that made you wet. you felt butterflies in your stomach.

you arrived at her house, greeting her dad.

“happy fathers day, bob!” you said. you gave him a fine bottle of white wine.

while they were preparing dinner, you and paige headed up to her old room. as soon as paige closed the door, she kissed you like it was the end of the world.

her hands went down to your waist, squeezing it. you let out a small moan, you could feel her smile against your lips. the both of you let go, breaths were heavy and echoing around the room.

“you look so beautiful, i can’t wait to have you later.”

“alright, daddy p.”

“daddy p?”

“yeah, MY daddy p.” you gave her a flirtatious smile, drawing small circles on her chest.

she smirked at you, she knew what was going down later.

the moment the both of you entered your apartment (which was thankfully soundproofed), she grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you up the island table.

she didn’t waste anytime, she was aggressively kissing you down your neck. she was nibbling on every part of your skin, leaving little bite marks. you were hers. your soft moans were getting louder by the second, leading her to kiss you down in between your breasts, squeezing them from time to time just to hear you get louder.

she pulled down the zipper of your sundress, slipping you out of it and throwing your dress on the sofa, discarding your bra and underwear somewhere. she kissed up your lips, not minding the fact that you were a mess already. she just wanted you.

“lay on your stomach for me.”

you obliged, landing your stomach on the cold surface. you felt her rubbing her hand on your ass cheek. you didn’t exactly know what to expect. she landed a stingy slap on your ass. you moaned loudly, who knew you liked this?

“you’re such a slut for me baby, i want you to count for me okay?”

“yes, p.”

“thats not my name baby. what were you calling me earlier again? use that.”

“yes, daddy.”

“good girl.”

slap. “one”

slap. “two”

slap. “three”

slap. “four”

slap. “five” you were whimpering slightly, tears were forming up in your eyes.

“just a little more baby.”

slap. “six”

slap. “seven”

you were anticipating another slap, but instead, you were turned over by paige. she was smirking at you, engulfing you in another kiss.

“such a good girl for me, baby. because you’re such a good girl, i’ll give you a reward.”

she spread your legs wide open, kissing up your legs til she reaches your inner thighs. her kisses were so soft and delicate, eliciting a moan out of you.

her face was close to your pussy, you could feel her breathing. she placed a soft kiss on it, making you grab a handful of her hair. she grunted from the sudden pull on her hair, but she loved it.

she wasted no time licking up a stripe on your clit, circling her tongue on your pussy. she was always able to make you cum just by eating you out, it was insane. she bit your clit softly, making you jolt your legs in between her head.

she used her strength to pry it open wide, her muscles were being put to use.

there was always this spot on your pussy, it made your legs shake, it gets you close to cumming, makes you close your legs from the feeling of soreness, and especially makes your toes curl.

she was hitting that spot. oh gosh, it felt so fucking good. your legs were wrapping around her head, yet she wasn’t stopping at all. she doesn’t plan to.

“oh my god— p, daddy— i’m cumm- oh fuck, i’m gonna cum, daddy.”

the pressure of her tongue was going faster, making your legs shake violently. you exhaled loudly, feeling your release. she looked back up at you.

her nose was glistening with your cum on it. her lips were berry pink, eyes looking like they were in heaven.

you were pussy naked in front of her, legs were spread opened, shaking, your pussy was pink and puffed up.

paige loves this sight.

you swiftly sat up, grabbing her face and smashing your lips on hers. you wrapped your arms around her neck, wanting to be closer to her. you felt her wrap her arms around your legs, carrying you to the bedroom.

“you look like a mess, baby. but we’re not done yet.”

oh.

she held your arms up. using her other hand, she pried your legs open, wasting no time to rub your clit in slow motion. she pushed two fingers in, wasting no time to fuck you.

you were moaning louder by the minute. while she finger fucked you out, she kissed you down your breasts, nibbling on your nipple. she gave you love bites all over your chest, as if it was a blank canvas.

“you can handle three, right baby?”

“yes, daddy.”

she slid another finger in, but this time, she was pushing her fingers in and out of you as if there was no tomorrow.

you were screaming from pleasure at that point, the knot building up inside of you.

“who owns you hm?”

“you.”

“who?”

“you, daddy. you own me. i’m— oh fuck fuck fuck. feels so good, daddy.” you whimper under her.

you were squirming under her, you weren’t sure if you could last longer before you were about to cum again.

regardless, paiges fingers were moving faster by the second. you were moaning under her. your back was arching, your head was thrown back, eyes were meeting heaven.

paige looked at you like you were an angel.

the little scream you let out knew you were going to cum.

you felt the sheets being wet, you see paige looking down at your pussy. you squirted.

paige never looked so proud, her smug smirk displayed on her face. you never felt so embarrassed, you immediately covered your face with your hands.

“it’s alright baby, i’ll clean you up. after all, i am your daddy. right?”

“yes, you’re my daddy p.”

she chuckles and gives you a kiss before heading in to the bathroom to draw you a bath.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #uconn wbb #paige bueckers smut

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grandline-fics · 3 months ago

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Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so be warned if he's not someone you like to read about. Contains swearing, slightly suggestive material but nothing explicit. Soulmate! AU, Enemies to Lovers

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 2,630

A/N: Part of the Good For Your Soul Series. The next part is here and have we maybe got things being a little more amicable? Hope you all enjoy this chapter. The next one should be when things really kick off but we've got the beginnings of possessive Doffy. Enjoy

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

——————

“So we have the guest rooms ready and waiting for the young master’s guests arriving today and-” The young servant stopped her report to her superior with a startled yelp when one of the windows slammed open above. Together the two servants froze at the sight of Doflamingo holding you by the throat, your body relaxed as ever, at least until you glanced down at the steep drop.

“Don’t drop me!” You snapped sharply at Doflamingo, reaching out to slap his arm. It was still so jarring for the residents and servants of the palace to hear you talk to the King the way you did. In this moment you held no panic or fear in your voice, instead you sounded annoyed. “I’ll hit the rose bush, it’ll break my fall.” The servants paled, that’s what you were concerned about? Still in a way this made sense for you and King Doflamingo. They’d lost count how many times a day certain attacks or killing attempts he made against you.

Through it all you met each instance calmly. In a way these occurrences now seemed to be a strange sort of game for you and Lord Doflamingo. Something to pass the time and meet some sort of morbid curiosity. Even though everyone knew by now that the power of soulmates couldn’t be bested with stubborn determination, you both still tried.

Doflamingo tilted his head and glanced out the window to see the large rose bush in bloom and back to your unimpressed expression. Of course, it would be pointless to reduce the possible damage to you. He grinned and pulled you in to reel back, putting as much force as he could he threw you. He watched as your body hurtled through the air and collided awkwardly against the fountain with a loud splash. Leaning against the window frame, Doflamingo chuckled as you slowly stood and began to climb out of the fountain completely drenched but unharmed as he and you both expected would be the case. With a huff you sat on the edge of the fountain and began to wring out as much water out of your clothes as you could to limit the amount of water you were going to unintentionally track into the palace.

Doflamingo watched as you finally began to walk inside and out of view. He closed the window firmly and pulled out his handheld den-den mushi when it rang. He'd been expecting the call, his guests had already landed on the island and were nearing the Palace. “All okay?”

“Yes Joker. All’s going smoothly. They’re just ahead with Bellamy and the others and should be at the Palace soon.” His officer reported. “They know nothing about this island, didn’t question why they were coming to a palace. Doflamingo sir, they don’t even know you’re the one in charge here. They seem to think Joker is just someone very rich.”

“Is that right?” Doflamingo grinned. This just got better and better. He had thought that they would believe that ‘Joker’ worked for him and would have begun to panic once they learned they’d set foot on Dressrosa. To be this ignorant and naive about the real danger they were in was more than he hoped for. “Well let’s see how long we can keep that secret between us. Shall we?”

———-

The pirates strutted through Dressrosa’s palace entrance hall with eye bright with greed and appreciation. This was the dream, to be so rich that you could own a palace and have countless servants at your beck and call, every wish and whim met immediately. Now they were even more sure that Joker wouldn’t cry over a missed share of a measly profit his weapons would get once they sold them on. The head servant bowed to them and spoke calmly, repeating word for word Doflamingo had told them too. “Joker has been kind enough to assign rooms for you all to stay in while you’re here. There’ll be a celebratory dinner to welcome you all later this evening but for now you’re all welcome to make yourselves comfortable. If you need anything, there’ll be someone nearby to assist.”

At the permission to make themselves comfortable, the pirates grinned wide and chuckled, many immediately breaking apart into smaller groups to start exploring. Some went with the goal of finding the kitchen to start stuffing their faces, celebratory meal or not. Others started wandering to find anything expensive looking that would be easily snatched and hidden, the more ambitious hoped to come across the palace’s vault and begin to make a plan on how best to rob from it when night had fallen. One group in particular however had just been wandering about to see what took their interest first, only to pause when one of the servants tensed as they neared one of the doors. “Oh, sirs. Not this room!”

“Ohhh? Why? Is there something precious in there?” One grinned, his interest immediately taken. Why have this room be off limits? They were just asking for them to investigate by saying not to go in. “A quick peek.”

“N-no…I must insist!“ The servant stammered out. While Doflamingo hadn’t exactly said this room was off limits to the pirates, she believed it would be wrong of her to allow them inside.

“Joker said we were his guests.” The other pirate insisted, taking a firm hold of the servant’s arm knowing she would be too weak to use force. With a laugh he pulled the girl out of the way with no effort and added. “He said we were to make ourselves comfortable. I think we’ll be comfortable in here.”

The pirates threw open the doors with a loud bang and strode into the large and luxuriously furnished living quarters, low appreciatively whistles breaking from their lips. If their rooms were even half as nice as this, they were tempted to just stay here permanently. From the side room they heard movement and the panicked squeak from the servant who scurried inside in the hopes of convincing them to leave. Now she knew for sure they wouldn’t. Quickly the pirates wasted no time in bursting into the room and pausing to see you in the bathtub. With the oils and additions to the water it’d turned it a dark swirl of colours but even then when you’d heard their approach and only had time to quickly grab a towel and use it to act as extra cover for yourself. Steadily you met their stares and forced yourself to remain calm.

“Oh what have we here?” One pirate all but sang as he stepped closer to the bathtub, eyes taking in your face and what he could see of your body which sadly for him wasn’t much. “I doubt you’re our gracious host Joker and not a servant…”

“Maybe a different kind of ‘servant’ huh?” The second pirate grinned lecherously and licked his lips. “Is that what you are dearest? Some entertainment Joker’s got planned for later?”

“I’m in the mood for entertainment now though…” The third quipped and your eyes narrowed at that remark. “How’s about you stand up and let us see if you’re worth the coin or not love?”

“Aren’t you a little too eager?” You asked, expression still composed and voice even. Slowly you watched the first pirate crouch down by the tub, his knuckles slowly grazing against your arm and drifting upwards to your jaw before suddenly latching into your hair. You suppressed the wince at the sudden action and clamped your hand around his wrist. “I prefer taking my time and really enjoying things.”

“Darling if you’ve been bought, it’s about what we want. Not you.” The pirate gripping your hair sneered with a sickening smile. “But I like your spirit. Doubt you’d break easy.”

“Doubt the three of you could afford me.” You grit out while the others began to laugh.

“I dunno. Joker’s been mighty generous up until now.” The third pirate mused. “Bet he’d be nice and let the whole crew have you for a discount.”

“That’s a good idea.” The second pirate barked out with a cruel laugh, excitement gleaming in his eyes. “We should let the Captain know. He’d kill us if we did anything before he meets Joker.”

“Y-yeah good point…” The first admitted, fear flickering into his eyes at the thought of his Captain and you resisted the urge to smirk. If only they knew who they should truly fear in this palace. Reluctantly the pirate released your hair and stood but offered you a disgusting wink before he turned and they left. “See you soon sweetheart.”

“I-I’m so so sorry!” The servant sobbed, falling to her knees while you rose and rushed to pull on your bathrobe. “I tr-tried to stop them!”

“Don’t worry about it.” You reassured her with a sharp tug of your robe’s ties to secure them in place. Your building fury steeling your focus as you stormed out of your room and towards Doflamingo’s office. You were surprised that in your walk there that you didn’t run into any more pirates but it was a good thing because you wouldn’t have held back then.

You shoved the double doors open and let them hit the walls with an echoing bang. Sharply Doflamingo looked up from his desk while Pica, Diamante, and Trebol turned. The three elite officers tensed at the sight of your dressed in only a bathrobe, your hair and skin still slightly damp and the cold fury burning in your eyes as you stalked towards the desk. The three men stepped to the side while you absently heard the office doors close and lock behind you, most likely the result of Doflamingo’s power. Bracing your hands on the polished surface of the desk you leant in and snarled down at him. “I’m going to kill those fuckers.”

“Well that's a surprise to hear.” Doflamingo chuckled, surprised at your change of heart and unusual decision to come to him severely lacking clothes, not that he truly objected to that. Originally you’d told him that you’d let him have his fun and deal with the pirates. However he was more curious at your unrestrained anger. Out of everything he’d thrown at you, you’d never shown this emotion around him. Just what had they done in such a short amount of time to make you want to kill them. “I’m going to need to know a reason why though. Your involvement will alter the plan.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your plan, Doflamingo.” You snapped. “I’m killing the ones I want to kill and that’s the end of it.”

“So you’ve got specific targets?” He chuckled. “See someone you recognised that made you jump out of the bath to rush and tell me?”

“No.”

“Then why want to kill them?”

“Because you were such a dumbass that gave them the run of the place.” You accused, desperately wishing you could throw something at his head and cause him pain. When you saw his eye twitch beneath his glasses you saw no point in hiding what had happened. As much as you both clashed, he did tell you everything when you asked. “They came into my room and walked in while I was bathing.” You began, tensing with the speed Doflamingo was on his feet and mirroring your stance on his side of the desk. Hands digging into the edge of the table while he leant towards you.

“They saw you?” He asked, his tone darkening to a point it made your stomach flip but you quickly ignored it. “Did they touch you?”

“They didn’t hurt me, don’t worry no one’s taken that privilege from you yet.” You said with a roll of your eyes. “The real insult was them implying that I was a whore they could afford, but apparently Joker’s such a swell and generous guy you might be convinced to share me around.”

At that Doflamingo’s lips curled back into a fierce snarl. This group of scum just couldn’t resist digging the graves deeper could they? While he had allowed them to do as they pleased to get more ammunition on them to exact appropriate punishments for them, he honestly hadn’t expected this development or this rush of barely contained fury it brought. Diamante, Trebol and Pica stared at you both nervously, their young master mostly and became fearful. It’d been a long time since they’d seen him this way. “Who were they?”

“Didn’t get their names.” You quipped, unbending and refusing to give him the answer he wanted. “Even if I did I wouldn’t tell you.”

“Why not?” Doflamingo ground out, his fingers beginning to press deeper into the thick wood, faint cracks sounding.

“So you could kill them before I got a chance to?” You demanded with a sharp shake of your head as you glared at him. “I don’t think so. I’m not going to tell you a damn thing about them. They’re mine to kill.” You insisted with cold finality in your tone. For a while you and Doflamingo stayed locked in an intense staring contest where there didn’t seem to be an obvious winner.

“Fine.” Doflamingo finally growled, teeth clenched together. “You get your wish. You can kill the ones you want. Just at least make it entertaining.”

You immediately straightened, satisfied that the King of Dressrosa gave in and smirked. It honestly hadn’t mattered what he said. You were going to kill those three regardless of his permission or not but you quickly squashed the feeling of relief it brought when he said you could. Part of the reason you hadn’t outright killed the three in your bathroom then and there was because you didn’t want to ruin the plan he’d formulated while waiting for their arrival. Quickly you stepped from the desk and turned to leave. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

When you unlocked the door and left Doflamingo slammed his hands into the desk, the single bow shattering it to pieces instantly. It wasn’t enough he needed to kill them all now, to watch their bodies writhe in agony as they were sliced to pieces and forced to kill each other but yet he managed to restrain himself. Aggravatingly he’d promised you, you’d get to kill your targets and he didn’t want to go back on it. Mostly because he was finally seeing a part of you you’d kept hidden begin to come out and he wanted to see what you’d do without that restraint but also because he didn’t want to go back on his word to you. As much as the bile and rage burned in his chest and throat he forced himself to hold it back. How dare those maggots and filth personified believe they could touch you. Then it came to him. He’d asked had they touched you. Not had they harmed you. His concern in that moment hadn’t been had someone done what he couldn't in marking you or causing you pain. “Pica, from now on you stay with them when they’re on their own.” Doflamingo finally commanded, his voice shallow yet still heavy with authority. “No one touches them without their say-so. Understood?”

Pica nodded sharply and his body disappeared into the stone, immediately going to his new post in keeping a protective eye on you. Slowly Doflamingo flexed his fingers repeatedly as his mind tried to focus on the plan and reminded himself by the end of the night every single one of the scum currently scurrying through his home would be dealt with after they all learnt the very painful lessons to never try and best him or touch what was his.

———————————————-

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thewintersoldierdisaster · 3 months ago

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a/n: hey there! i never actually planned on writing a sequel to ‘9 pm’ but a few anons asked about it and i liked the idea of giving them some happiness following that fic! the perfect title gave me the idea for the fic and here we are ☺️ i hope you guys enjoy!!

word count: 2.8k

tw: brief and minor mention of a miscarriage, pregnancy

direct sequel to 9 p.m. in vancouver

summary: andrei’s off on a road trip and you’re more exhausted than normal. once you realize why, you have to call andrei immediately

It’s barely ten at night and you’re falling asleep on the couch, Friends rerun playing at a low volume on the TV. Your blinks get longer, eyelids heavy, while Joey yells about the Coast Guard.

A yawn creaks at your jaw and you try to blink away some of the sudden exhaustion in your body. It doesn’t really work, another yawn catching you a few minutes later. You wrap your arms around one of the throw pillows, cheek smashed up against the pillow tucked under your head.

It’s been a long few days, work overwhelming you and Andrei up in the tri-state area for a mini road trip. The Canes had lost to the Flyers before beating the Devils. They’re currently up two goals on the Rangers, according to your NHL app updates, with just a few minutes left in the third.

The team will spend the night in the city before heading to Long Island for the second half of a back to back tomorrow.

It’s a grueling schedule so early in the season, four games in six days, and you know Andrei will be exhausted when he gets home on Monday morning. At least they’re off for two days before hitting the ice for a home game on Wednesday. You yawn again and decide vaguely that maybe you’ll go to the game, if you can keep your eyes open. It’s been a while since you went to the arena and you miss watching Andrei play live.

You can’t help but think briefly about the game in Vancouver last November, almost a year ago now, and your hand drifts to your stomach.

The baby would’ve been four months old, probably keeping you wide awake right now.

You don’t really think about the loss as much anymore, you can go long stretches of time without thinking about him - because you’d decided that it was a boy, even though it was too early to ever tell. Your due date had come around at the end of July and Andrei had spirited you out of the country, the both of you quiet and moody for a few days.

And then training camp had started and you’d gotten busy with work and then the season started and you didn’t dwell on the loss for a while.

But now it’s late and you’re tired and you haven’t seen Andrei in a few days and you should be cuddling a baby right now.

A few tears trickle down your temple and you swipe at them, emotion clogging your throat.

“God, get a grip,” you mutter to yourself, shaking your head slightly. It’s not even like you’re on your period to be so hormonal right now. Your brain takes a second to process the thought and when it does, your eyes widen and you kick your legs out, struggling with the blanket to try and sit up.

“Oh, oh my god,” you scramble for your phone, tossing blankets around until you hear the tell-tale thunk of the phone hitting the floor. You lunge for it, the TV remote going flying, but you barely pay attention to that as your fingers wrap around the loop on the back of your phone case and snatch it off the floor.

Your hands shake violently as you unlock your phone and thumb over to find your period tracker app. The app takes seconds to load, seconds where your heart beats wildly and your vision goes a little blurry. You mutter, “come on, faster, faster,” under your breath and suddenly the screen loads and there in the center of the screen, in bold font, is the notice that your period has been late for more than thirty days.

You’ve missed two periods.

Without even realizing it.

To be fair to yourself, after the miscarriage, everything was thrown off and you’ve only had seven or eight periods in the past year. So it’s not totally crazy that you didn’t realize you missed two cycles.

Your stomach lurches a little bit and you chew at your lower lip. You probably should take a test. But do you want to know without Andrei, again?

It didn’t work out so well last time.

You’re probably not even pregnant, you rationalize, it’s the stress of a new season starting and your body getting back to normal.

Never mind the fact that you’ve long been cleared to get pregnant again and your gynaecologist hadn’t said anything was wrong at your last appointment.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, nearly scaring the shit out of you. It’s just a notification from the NHL app - sometime in the last few minutes, while you’d been spiralling, the Rangers had tied the game and it was going to overtime.

Overtime anxiety is better than maybe-pregnant anxiety, so you tune into Bally, the sudden brightness of the glare off the ice making you blink. You’re half-heartedly paying attention, fingers tapping against your thigh while the players zip up and down the ice, trading scoring chances. Andrei’s on the ice for a shift and then he’s back on the bench. Pyotr makes a save and then another and then he doesn’t.

You frown at the TV, watching Andrei and the guys file off the ice, miserable for the team’s loss. You change the channel back to Nick at Nite, not interested in seeing the post-game analysis of the loss.

The audience laughter from the show echoes around the living room and you chew at your lower lip anxiously. Andrei won’t be back to his hotel room for hours, the post-game process already underway, but between media, a shower, and the travel. Well, it’ll be at least close to midnight before you can talk to him.

He’ll reassure you that you’re overthinking, that it’s nothing. But a quiet part of your brain is insistent that you’re pregnant and it just won’t shut up.

The smartest thing would be to take a test, find out once and for all if you’re even going to mention anything to Andrei. You’re pretty sure there’s no tests left after last time and if there are, they’re probably expired.

Your fingers tap at the screen of your phone almost by memory, the Google search showing that there’s a twenty-four hour CVS just a ten minute drive away.

The episode ends and another begins while you sit on that information, giving yourself a moment to imagine what you’ll do if the test is positive. He has to know immediately this time, you don’t think you’d be able to wait.

“Oh fuck it,” you mutter to yourself, pushing the blankets off your legs and getting up from the couch. Your vision goes fuzzy, briefly, the blood rushing from your head. You blink and everything shifts back into focus, your heart hammering a little.

Before you can overthink it, you turn off the TV and head for the front door, making a stop at the front hall closet to grab a jacket. Your fingers close around the sleeve of one of Andrei’s, the jacket dwarfing your frame as you slip your arms into the sleeves. You shove your feet into a ratty pair of Uggs and drop a faded Canes ball cap on your head.

You look insane, more like a college kid doing a walk of shame than a married woman, but Andrei’s scent embedded deep into the collar of his jacket is comforting you.

At CVS, you grab at the pregnancy test boxes like a woman possessed - Clear Blue, First Response, and the CVS generic brand all go into your basket, along with a bag of pumpkin shaped Reese’s Cups and a pack of Twizzlers. Something about the waxy, artificial strawberry ropes seems appealing right now.

Thank God for self-checkout, you don’t think you can face another person right now.

The pregnancy tests feel like they weigh a million pounds in the plastic bag and you gnaw anxiously on a Twizzler as you drive back home.

It’s well after midnight by the time you manage to drink enough water in order to pee on all the sticks and this round is more anxiety producing than when you’d done it over a year ago. Once you’re done, you set the timer on your phone and flip each stick over on the counter, so you can’t see the displays.

Instead of waiting in the bathroom, which is feeling small and stuffy despite how large it actually is, you pace around your bedroom for the few minutes it takes for your timer to count down. You wonder if you could call Andrei now, be on the phone with him when you look at the display, but if you’re not pregnant and he’s on the phone, he’ll be disappointed right before the next set of games. He’s been talking about it a little more lately, in the abstract, how nice it’ll be to have a baby one day. And you maybe haven’t been as enthusiastic as he’s been, so you don’t want to get his hopes up.

If you’re not pregnant, Andrei doesn’t need to know that you worried yourself into a tizzy over nothing.

But if you are? Well, Andrei will be the first call anyway.

The timer goes off on your phone and the sudden, shrill noise makes you jump. Your stomach lurches and you flatten your palm over it. Underneath the anxiety, there’s a little bubble of excitement growing, the thought of a baby providing a little spark of joy.

You wander back into the bathroom and close your eyes before flipping the tests over with shaking hands.

The plastic clatters against the countertop and you squint one eye open and then the other, vision focusing on the little displays.

“Oh!” You gasp, eyes immediately filling with tears, hands flying up to cover your mouth.

All three are positive, the little Clear Blue display declaring you ‘Pregnant’ in tiny letters.

Tears slip down your cheeks and you start giggling wildly, overwhelmed in the best possible way. Your hands press on your stomach, palms flat and fingers splayed.

“Hey there, baby,” you murmur, looking down. “Stay safe in there, okay? We want to meet you.”

The tears fall faster and you wipe at them with your shoulder, a damp splotch forming on the fabric of your sweatshirt. It’s so late, but you need to tell Andrei, and you move on autopilot, climbing onto your bed and finding your phone among the messy covers - the bed hasn’t been made in two days because Andrei is more of a stickler for that than you are and you like to get right back into the nest of blankets at the end of the day. It’s on your list of things to do before he’s back in a few days. Now, you pile yourself into a little cocoon of the blankets and comforters, warm and happy.

You text him first, just a quick ‘you awake?’ that you know he’s going to read as a request for phone sex.

True enough, your phone vibrates in your hand a few seconds later, Andrei’s name at the top of the screen. You grin and slide the bar to answer, “hey there.”

“Is late,” he replies, a faint laugh in his tone. “Thought you would be sleeping.”

“No,” you giggle, feeling a little unhinged. “Not asleep. Couldn’t sleep. Um, are you alone?”

Your husband laughs fully now, the sound echoing over the line. “Solnyshka, been a long day. I love you, but we have early morning,” he teases and the rumble of his voice makes you smile.

“No, not for that you perv,” you shoot back, twisting your fingers in a loose thread. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

You know you’re sounding vague and strange, but to his credit, Andrei doesn’t call you out on it. Instead, he’s quiet for a second before your phone vibrates against your ear, signalling an incoming text. You pull the phone from your ear and tap over to your messages, laughing when you see the picture Andrei just sent.

The hotel room is nearly pitch black, but you can still make out the shape of Martin Nečas passed out in his bed with what looks like an eye mask covering his face. Andrei’s grinning face is cut off in the corner of the picture.

“Guess that’s a yes then,” you smile, bringing the phone back to your ear.

“Neci has earplugs in too,” Andrei informs you. “Says I snore, which is lie.”

It’s not, but you don’t feel like relitigating that particular point with him right now. So you move on.

“I know I should’ve waited, done something cute, but I’m bursting,” you let the words come out in a rush, feeling lightheaded with excitement. “I couldn’t, I had to tell you right away, Drei, baby, I’m pregnant.”

Andrei’s silent on the other end and a slightly manic laugh bubbles out of your mouth while you wait for him to say something.

“Pregnant?” He repeats, sounding like he’s just taken a blow to the stomach - winded and hoarse. “Like, with baby?”

“Yeah, mhm,” you hum, just letting the news soak in. Andrei’s breathing is audible in your ear, a soft ‘huh’ puffing out.

He starts to laugh and you can hear the grin in his voice when he says, “oh, solnyshka, fuck, I’m… ya chertovski schastliv.”

He slips into Russian and you’re not totally familiar with the words, but he repeats them in English, “I’m so fucking happy. Are you okay? How you feel?”

“I’m okay, I was feeling a little tired earlier,” you say. “That’s kind of why I took the test, just to see.”

Without asking, Andrei switches the call to a FaceTime and you pull the phone back, his grinning face taking up the entire screen. He looks lighter and happier than he has in months and the sight of him, of that smile that you love so much, makes you emotional.

“I wish I could kiss you,” he shakes his head, still smiling. “Hold you, something other than smile like idiot on phone.”

“I’m just happy to see your smile,” you say truthfully. A hug wouldn’t be unwelcome, but just seeing Andrei’s face has you calmer. “It’s late,” you continue, catching sight of the time in the top left corner of your phone - nearly 1:30 in the morning. “You should get some sleep.”

The adrenaline is starting to wear off now and you slump back against the pillows and headboard.

Andrei nods. “Call me when you get up,” he requests, phone bouncing slightly as he shifts on the bed. “We leave early, but call any time, okay?”

“Okay,” you promise, pressing your lips together to smother a yawn. “Hey, I love you.”

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Andrei replies in Russian, warm and awed. “You and baby, both.”

You’re both quiet for a bit, comfortable and sleepy, reluctant to end the call. You just want to enjoy his long-distance presence and this little bubble, but eventually Martin lets out a snore on his side of the room, startling you since you forgot he was there. Andrei laughs faintly and reluctantly ends the call, after telling you he loves you again.

Now that Andrei knows, your whole body relaxes and you sink happily into the nest of blankets and pillows, curled up in a c-shape, one hand on your stomach.

There’s a million things to figure out in the coming days, weeks, and months, a million worries to ruminate on, but for now, you fall asleep with a smile on your face and pure happiness bubbling in your stomach.

The next morning, you snooze your alarm and allow yourself to wake up slowly and lazily. It’s an easy morning and you don’t plan on getting out of bed until you hear the doorbell ring.

With a grumble, you climb out of bed and shove your feet into a pair of slippers to pad downstairs, wondering who could be at the door this early.

It’s a delivery man, half-hidden behind a huge bouquet of flowers. You accept it, surprised at the delivery but not at the sender.

The oversized bouquet made up of baby roses, baby’s breath, and a few other types all in various shades of baby pink and baby blue can only be from your husband. Your face hurts from the size of your smile and you dig out the little card from between a pale pinks rose and a light blue hydrangea.

‘I love you, we will celebrate as soon as I am home. A hug and a kiss from New York for you, mama. -A’

It’s not Andrei’s handwriting, but you trace your fingers over the letters and feel tears well up. Any concerns or worries you might have about having a baby are pushed aside.

Andrei’s going to be the best dad and you’re so lucky to be doing this with him.

#andrei svechnikov #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov fic #nhl fic

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shankss-magnificent-ass · 11 months ago

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Imagine taking Rayleigh and Shakky out on a date

This is part 2 of this post

Rayleigh: so you want to take us out on a pretend date to spite your first mate and captain for bullying you?

Reader: I know how it sounds, but I figured it'd be a good way to get back at them.

Shakky: While I'm all for helping you get revenge, I don't understand your logic.

You: well, Rayleigh is Shanks's father figure.

Rayleigh: That's not how I'd put it, but I suppose I'm the closest thing he's got.

You: And while I know you two have an open relationship, I thought fucking my captain's father figure would be crossing a line.

Shakky: probably a wise move.

You: And I wanted you to go on a fake date with you, Shakky because Benn has had a crush on you for years, but has been too nervous to ask you out on a date.

Rayleigh: so a date, with both of us, would be two birds with one stone.

Shakky: Oh, I know about his little crush, his poker face is terrible

You: I know, right? I saw him in here earlier, looking at you, he was about as subtle as a sea train.

Rayleigh: *turns to his wife,* What do you think?

Shakky: I dunno.

You: I'll pay for dinner.

Shakky: Deal.

Rayleigh: Pick us up at six thirty tonight.

That night during dinner

Rayleigh: *drinking straight from the wine bottle you ordered*, So how's the brat supposed to know you took us on a date?

You: Well, he planned on dining here at seven, so by the time our food arrives, he should be here. But you know him, he's not good at sticking to plans. If he doesn't come, we could take a picture as a backup plan.

Shakky: Sounds like a plan, in the meantime, we should have a proper date.

Rayleigh: yes, tell us about yourself.

An hour later

You: And Shanks, buck ass naked, slips on the wet rocks, falls, and smacks against the surface of the water!

Shanks: (y/n)?

You: *looks over to notice Shanks and his inner circle gawking at you*

Rayleigh: hey sport

Shanks: what's going on here?

Shakky: what does it look like? We're having a date with this little cutie. *wraps her arms around you and rests her head on your shoulder, giving a pointed smirk at Benn*

Rayleigh: *puts his arm around both you and Shakky and pulls you into his side,* They were just telling us about your skinny sipping mishap on Koala Island.

Shanks: No

You: yep

Benn: *glaring daggers at you,* You little shit, how long has this been going on?

You: Not long, this is the first date.

Shanks: Is this because of what we said two weeks ago?

You: a little

Shanks: *pouts,* We were just teasing.

Shakky: You're interrupting our date, it's quite rude.

Shanks: Fine, enjoy your evening.

Later

Shanks: *alone, passed out drunk on his table*

Rayleigh: *sighs* this boy I swear.

Shakky: Want to ditch him with our tab?

You: Yeah, but we're not gonna leave him without the cash, *pulls out his wallet and puts the Berry you brought along inside before sliding it back into his pocket*

The next day on the Red Force

You: *walks onto the ship only for everyone to stare at you*

Benn: You have some explaining to do.

Shanks: *bursts out of his cabin,* Did you fuck them?

You: no, I thought that'd be crossing a line.

Shanks: then where did you stay last night?

You: In their guest room, I helped Shakky open this morning because Rayleigh had wandered off after our date... Look, it wasn't a real date, Boss, I was upfront with them about my intentions.

Shanks: We didn't bully you.

You: It certainly felt like it to me, and when I voiced that hurt, you didn't apologize, and basically told me to stop sulking. So I wanted you to know how it felt, so I asked Rayleigh and Shakky to help me get back at you for bullying me.

Shanks: I see, *reflects on his behavior for a moment* I'm sorry we teased you, it was supposed to be a joke but ended up hurting your feelings.

You: Apology accepted.

Shanks: Now, please never date any of my former crew mates from my time with Roger.

You: I promise I won't knowingly date any of them.

Shanks: I don't like the way you phrased that, but fine, I guess.

Benn: Now that that's done, tell me how in the hell you got Shakky to go on a date with you.

You: Again, it was a fake date, but I simply asked.

Benn: I was afraid you were gonna say that.

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benevolentbones · 5 months ago

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met you first | spencer reid x fem!reader

warning: slight angst, spencer feeling sad, awkward cute spencer

word count: 1.8k

summary: spencer tells the bau girls about a girl he met, morgan introduces his new girlfriend.

a/n: wrote this in one sitting at work, enjoy the angst. reblogs, comments and requests appreciated <3 comment to be added to my taglist!

the team was gathered at rossi’s mansion for his bi-monthly dinner party he liked to host. rossi was standing by the stove, tossing a pan of incredible smelling tomato sauce.

hotch was to his left, analysing every ingredient the older man added to the dish, trying to memorise it so he could recreate it for jack.

the girls and spencer sat at the island, jj and garcia were deep in conversation about how henry and will were doing, jj happily explaining that henry started to take his first steps.

spencer fidgeted with his hands, his leg bobbing up and down as he sat. emily glanced over to spencer, aware he felt kind of awkward and out of place, she decided to speak up.

“do you guys know when morgan is arriving- apparently he’s bringing his new girlfriend.”

this caused the other two girls to turn their attention to emily, spencer also looked up from his fixed gaze on the marble tiles.

“new girlfriend? i didn’t know morgan was capable of being with a woman longer than just one night.” garcia chuckled out, causing the group to laugh with her.

“it seems like everyone is coupling up nowadays…just you and me reid, you can be my wingman.” emily nudged spencer, causing the younger man to let out a breathy chuckle.

“actually…” he began, feeling his face warm at the thought. “i met someone..”

the looks between the girls ranged from disbelief to amazed. “tell us more- you can’t just leave it at that.” jj pushed, eyes fixed on spencer.

garcia nodded, the pink bows in her hair moving along with her. “spill the tea, reid.”

spencer felt his face grow warm. “i- well— i haven’t even asked her out yet— but she’s so…kind…and so funny and beautiful- god she’s beautiful..” he mumbled out, his mind wandering back to the first time he met you over a week ago.

it was a typical wednesday afternoon, spencer decided to drop by his local coffee shop before going to the bau, the team had worked a late case out of state and hotch had given everyone the morning off to refresh.

he stood at the back of the line, gently drumming his thin fingers over his satchel. the line moved pretty quickly so he wasn’t complaining, his brown eyes darted around the room taking in all the small quirks of the coffee shop.

his attention was caught when a little boy, no more than six years old, began crying in-front of him. he noticed that the young boy had wanted the last piece of chocolate cake, and the person before him had bought it.

the young teen boy at the counter didn’t know what to do in that situation, quickly grabbing his supervisor to deal with the crying boy and his mother.

that’s when his eyes landed on you, he deduced that you couldn’t be more than twenty seven. you had the company apron hanging loosely around your neck accompanied by a black name tag that read ‘y/n’.

“hey buddy what’s wrong?” you spoke, your voice soft and kind.

the little boys big blue teary eyes flickered to his mother and back to you. “i wanted the cake.” he mumbled out, clinging to his mothers side.

your eyes scanned the glass cabinet, noticing the lack of cake. your eyes flickered over the mother and the son, before nodding. “give me one moment okay bud?” the small boy nodded before you wandered into the back of the coffee shop.

not even ten seconds later you came back holding a plate with one slice of chocolate cake. the little boy’s face lit up instantly as you handed him the plate.

“i was saving this slice incase a very special little guy came in- and look here you are! i hope you enjoy it.” your smile was so warm, the kindness meeting your e/c eyes.

his mother thanked you profusely and paid, walking off to take a seat somewhere in the café. spencer was up next, he stumbled up to the counter as you greeted him with a smile.

“hi, what can i get for you today?” your voice was so melodic that he nearly zoned out.

“h-hey- can i get a black coffee with…..10 sugars.” he mumbled the last part, his eyes flickering away from you for a moment.

you let out a light chuckle, punching the order into your computer. “you’ve got a sweet tooth then i assume?”

spencer rubbed the nape of his neck, his eyes studying your pretty features. “y-yeah i suppose you could say that— um how much do i owe you?” he reached into his pocket to pull out his wallet.

you shook your head, moving to the left to start making his drink. “don’t worry about it…” you trailed off, his name not yet known to you.

“spencer…and thank you.” he felt a blush creep onto his face as he watched you meticulously pour his coffee into a cup. you began to add the sugars one by one when spencer decided to speak up.

“that was really nice of you- what you did for that boy.”

your eyes met his as you smiled. “i was saving that piece of cake for lunch but…he clearly needed it more than i did.” a soft chuckle left your lips and spencer could swear he felt his heartbeat triple in speed.

you finished up making his coffee, popping a lid onto the cup. as you went to pass the coffee, spencer’s fingers brushed yours causing a spark from the sudden touch.

“have a nice day, spencer..i hope to see you here again.”

he nodded, evidently flustered. “y-yeah me too..thank you.”

after that interaction, spencer went to the coffee shop every morning just to see you, it became part of his routine. some days it made him late to work he honestly he didn’t care, seeing you every morning was worth it.

spencer was brought back to the present by a nudge from emily, her dark eyes staring into his soul. “when are you going to ask her out?”

spencer shook his head. “i- i don’t know…i don’t want to mess things up..” he mumbled ouch scratching his neck.

“mess what up, pretty boy?” morgan chuckled as he finally walked into the room, all eyes flickered onto him. and a few steps behind him…there you stood.

spencer’s eyes instantly flickered onto your form, you were wearing a simple black dress, a change to your usual apron and baggy jeans. his heart swelled, he couldn’t believe you were here- why were you here?

then he pieced it together, just as morgan brought an arm to rest around your waist, pulling you close to his side. his heart sank, his features dropping slightly.

“this is my girlfriend, y/n.” morgan let out a small chuckle before pressing a kiss to your temple. you smiled warmly towards the group, though it didn’t quite meet your eyes, your gaze finally landing on spencer.

“hey sweet tooth- i didn’t know you knew derek..” you trailed off, there was something off about how you spoke, your voice not holding your usually cheery tone.

a few sets of eyes flickered onto spencer as he awkwardly adjusted his seated position on the stool. “y-yeah we work together.”

“how do you know each other?” morgan mused, his grip on your waist not loosening.

“he comes to my coffee shop every morning.” i mumble with a smile, my eyes not leaving spencer’s form.

immediately emily knew that this was the girl spencer had been speaking about, to avoid further questions she spoke up. “god i need a drink- morgan pour me a glass of wine there would you?”

morgan nodded with a chuckle, pulling away from you and walking around the island to where rossi stored the glasses. spencer let out a small sigh of relief, knowing that emily had spoken up to draw away from the situation.

throughout the night spencer couldn’t help but steal glances in your direction, he was growing increasingly frustrated with the way morgan would rest his hands on you, how he would pull you closer to him every so often. he needed to take a breather.

when everyone was distracted his managed to slip out onto one of rossi’s many balconies. he pressed his calloused hands against the cool, stone balustrade. he let out a deep sigh, staring out into the dark night, rossi’s garden being lit up by the moon.

spencer heard the sliding door open and shut behind him, now aware of someone’s presence. “i’ll be in, in a minute..” he mumbled out, his voice low.

“hey..” you spoke, your voice traveling to his ears making his heart ache. he turned his gaze to you, you were now standing a foot away from him, leaning your back against the stone railing.

“i- sorry i thought you were someone else..” he mumbled out, not being able to draw his eyes from your moonlit body.

“are you okay…you seem off, spencer.”

he let out a small sigh, running a hand through his dark hair.

“yeah- im..im fine…i didn’t realise you were with morgan.” he muttered out, noticing the drop on your features.

“it’s…pretty new. i met him a few weeks ago..” you managed to whisper out, running your hand over your arm.

“a few weeks ago..” he repeated, which you replied with a curt nod.

you both stood in silence for a moment. you were aware of spencer’s crush on you..and you couldn’t help but feel something for him too.

spencer turned to face you, speaking up. “would things be different…” he trailed off, chewing on his bottom lip.

“different?”

“…if i had met you first.” he breathed out, studying your features for any sign of hope.

you averted your gaze, your eyes staring holes into the ground below you. you knew in your heart the answer, things would be different if you had met him first. but you didn’t, and you couldn’t change that.

he nodded, knowing your answer. he let out a small breath, adjusting the glasses that rested on his nose.

you had only started dating morgan, you didn’t know where you stood with everything. it was all new to you.

“i’m sorry.” you mumbled out, a hint of sadness laced in your words. spencer shook his head.

“it’s not your fault.”

you paused for a moment, turning back to the door. “i’m..going to get back to the party, they’ll notice..”

he nodded again, your words stung, he knew there was nothing he could do but pine for you.

“i’ll be in soon…i just need to think..”

you shuffled away from him, pulling the door open.

“spencer?” you called out, your hand on the open door.

he turned back to face you, his eyes scanning your form as the warm light from inside the house lit up your soft features.

“i wish i had met you first.” you mumbled out, before slipping back inside.

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid @khxna @cynbx

#criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid request #spencer reid angst #derek morgan #criminal minds requests #criminal minds angst

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animasolaoriginal · 5 months ago

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I n f a t u a t e d ♦️SIX

CHAPTER ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE SIX SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN ELEVEN◾TWELVE◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

As they talk ground rules concerning their unique situation, she finds herself agreeing to whatever he tells her, ultimately confessing her reason for allowing all the vile things he does to her. Dangerous information in his hands, and he knows exactly how to use it to his advantage, pushing her limits even further.

ruthless nightclub owner ❌ innocent young woman with a crush

WARNING: NSFW! Explicit sexual content. Age gap. Size difference. Dubcon elements. Dom/sub dynamic. Free use/power play. Oral cockwarming. Anal fingering/sex. Rough oral sex/deepthroating. (For more tags, check it on AO3!) // WORDS: 7.4k

A/N: Please remember to check the tags very thoroughly! This chapter is a little rougher. Just a heads-up.

FIVE 🟥 SIX 🟥 SEVEN

She focuses on what he told her: Get dressed. Ignore the pain, she tells herself. It's hard, very hard, one wrong move and there are new tears in her eyes. It's a strange pain, deep-rooted, a soreness of muscles she had no idea she even had. Walking is tough, but sitting is even worse.

After somehow managing to slip into the clothes he put out for her (the dress is cute, a happy color, the soft fabric moving around her thighs, brushing against her sore butt, the thong however sits a little too tight between her cheeks, pressing hard against the knob of the plug, every movement only adding to the discomfort), she slowly makes her way into the kitchen on unsteady legs, pressing her lips into a thin line, breathing hard through her nose.

He sits on a bar stool at the kitchen island, sipping on his coffee, his eyes moving away from the phone in his hand towards her when she approaches. His smile makes her forget about the little sparks of pain when she moves closer. He pulls her against him, leaning in to kiss her forehead, luckily not forcing her onto his lap or onto the stool next to him.

“Help yourself,” he says with a nod to the coffee pot and a variety of breakfast foods laid out on the counter in front of him. Fruits, toast, buns, oats, other cereals, jam, slices of cheese and ham, fried bacon, small sausages, too much to choose from, really.

Letting go of her again, he looks back at his phone, seemingly scrolling through emails. She turns her head away quickly, doesn't want to be too nosy, so she leans in and grabs a piece of sliced apple, nibbling on it, not really hungry after all.

She stands a little awkwardly next to him, leaning on the counter, the same counter he had her bent over yesterday. It's a strange thought and an even stranger thing to eat off the same surface now. Or to think it's been a day (and a long night) since she woke up in his place, as his... whatever she is to him. His to fuck whenever he wants, apparently. It's still all a little fuzzy.

This somehow turned from a simple hook-up to her asking him to take her virginity to him taking her however and wherever he likes, and it's only taken him one day (and that awfully long night) to breach all her holes, take all her firsts, and it doesn't feel like it's the end of it. And somehow she is glad, in a twisted sort of way. Glad he didn't drop her after he's used her. Instead he provides her with clothes, food, keeps her close. Despite all the pain she's in, it feels strangely nice to have someone take care of her like that.

Someone who does the thinking for her – which is only fair when he is the one who takes away her ability to do so in the first place. Another thing she finds enjoyable despite the soreness it leaves, is how he never fails to give her that head-empty-feeling. No worries, just fucked out of her mind, happy. A feeling she only ever achieved with drinking too much, and somehow getting fucked is better than having to deal with the aftermath of too much alcohol.

“So, how do you feel?” he asks through the murky fog of thoughts inside her head, quite the opposite to how she feels when he does all these vile things to her.

She swallows the apple bite and licks her lips. “Sore,” she says quietly. “But I'm fine... if I just stand here,” she adds, giving him a shy smirk.

He grins at her, though there is a furrow to his brows. Putting his phone into his pocket, he gets up, and she shifts to follow him, but he holds up his hand. “Wait here,” he tells her, and she nods, watching him leave the open kitchen into another room she hasn't seen before. She's barely seen anything of his place, to be honest, but she has the impression there'll be time for that yet.

When he comes back, he grabs a small water bottle from the fridge and holds out two pills in his palm, one slightly larger than the other. She looks up at him, hesitantly takes the medicine.

“One for the pain and one... for after,” he says, cocking his head to the side. She frowns at the explanation. “You're not on birth control, are you?”

His question heats up her face. Clearing her throat, she looks down at the pills. “No,” she mumbles.

“Take these then,” he says, pulling his phone out of his pocket, quickly sliding his thumb over the screen. “I'll get you the pill. You'll need it...”

She doesn't know why this is so embarrassing to her (she's so embarrassed she doesn't even register the implication behind his words). It makes her feel like a child, someone who's way in over their head but doesn't want to admit to it. This is not the kind of taking care of her she thought about earlier, this feels like showing off her flaws, makes her realize she was not prepared for any of this to begin with.

Inhaling deeply, she puts the pills on her tongue and brings the water to her lips, swallowing hard to get them down. She empties the bottle, trying to empty her mind as well and not worry about anything anymore.

But now she thinks about accidentally getting pregnant because he couldn't stop pumping his freaking cum into her (and how she didn't even think about that possibility while he's done it), and how she feels so inexperienced and tiny next to him, him in his fancy suit pants and ironed shirt, typing on his phone, looking busy and important, and she's here in her small sundress that barely covers her thighs, barefoot, hair messy, face flushed, hurting from the inside out, useless.

He seems to feel her discomfort and without saying anything, he puts his large hand on her back, warm and comforting, rubbing softly up and down. She takes a deep breath, forces a smile and picks up another sliced apple piece, trying to focus on anything but her worries. She'd even have him fuck her senseless again, just to get rid of the nagging thoughts, soreness be damned.

“Okay,” he then says after a few minutes, his hand slipping to her lower back as he steps closer to her. She looks up, nibbling on the apple. He smirks at the sight, momentarily distracted. “Let's talk ground rules, shall we?” he eventually continues, sitting back down on the stool, lowering his towering height a little bit.

“Ground rules?” she asks, frowning at the change of topic.

“Yes. Think, darling, what are things I already told you to do and not to do?” He looks at her, a serious expression on his face, watching her so intently she feels her cheeks burn up even more.

“Uh,” she starts, thinking hard. It's a little contradictory to have her remember things he said when he keeps turning her brain off. “I... I uh...”

His hand grabs her chin, and she winces, eyes widening.

“Use your words,” he tells her sternly.

She swallows hard, her mind racing, her heart beating out of her chest. “I... I am yours to... use. You... you can... f-fuck me whenever you want,” she whispers, stumbling over her words, feeling even more embarrassed now. “And I... I can't say... no...”

He tilts his head, listening patiently. “Correct,” he says, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip. “Anything else?”

She frowns, biting the inside of her cheek. Her throat tenses up. She doesn't know what he wants to hear from her. It's like these horrifying moments when the teacher asks a question and you haven't listened to anything they said. Her stomach drops. “I... I don't know...” she murmurs under her breath, voice quivering, brows furrowing.

He stares at her, but then nods and loosens the grip on her jaw, gently cupping her cheek instead. “It's okay, I'll tell you,” he replies.

She relaxes slightly, but only until he lifts her onto his lap in one swift motion, effortlessly, his grip on her upper arms tight, and she flinches badly, unable to hide the pained little whine slipping from her lips. He moves her on his thigh, one arm wrapped around her, the other back on her cheek, tilting her face up. Her muscles protest, the ache flaring up as she shifts on his hard leg. She swallows any other sounds that threaten to spill from her, blinking quickly to keep the tears down as well.

His thumb wipes at the corner of her eye as he watches her closely. “Hurts, hm?” he whispers, and she nods. “You'll always have to tell me if you're in pain, okay? I can't read minds. Ask me for pain killers, ask me for anything, just ask. That's a key rule: you will ask me if you need anything, understood?”

“Yes,” she says, wincing before she adds: “Sir.”

“Repeat.”

“I... I'll tell you when it hurts, and I'll ask you if I need anything...”

He nods, caressing her cheek. “Good. That includes taking the plug out,” he clarifies, pushing his leg up slightly, coaxing another wince out of her as the motion pushes against the mentioned object stuck in her butt. “You don't have to wear it all the time, but you will ask me if you can take it out. Right?”

She nods, he looks at her. “Yes, sir,” she says quickly. “I... I'll ask you when I want the plug out...” His eyes narrow slightly, her heart skips a beat. “Uh, if... if I'm allowed to take it out...”

He huffs a laugh. “Exactly. You don't want anything. You take what I give you, you do what I tell you, always, no matter what, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she mumbles, biting her lip, focusing more on the words to repeat than on their actual meaning. “I'll do what you tell me to do, take what you give me...”

“And that includes?” he asks softly, cryptically, leaning in a little, his finger tracing the shape of her lips.

She blinks in confusion.

He smiles at her, then brushes his lips against her ear. “If I pump you full of cum, you will not get rid of it. If it drips down your leg, you will let it drip. If it gathers in your underwear, you will walk around with it until I tell you to change. I will tell you if you can clean yourself or not.”

His words make her shiver, and it's not just the close proximity, how his deep voice vibrates through her body. It's humiliating to think he has this kind of power over her, making her wear his cum like a trophy. Taking away the innate want to be clean. She inhales sharply, hoping he won't notice the hesitation in her voice. “Y-yes, sir. I'll... keep it on... and in me, at all times...”

He leans back, watching her closely. “Good girl,” he says, and she shivers for a completely different reason, her breath hitching slightly. His eyes move over her burning face, a soft smile grazing his lips. “You'll do anything for me if I call you that, huh?” he adds quietly, almost mockingly.

She looks away, something hot growing inside her stomach. “Yeah,” she admits quietly, worrying her lip between her teeth. It's indeed worrying how he can see right through her, and even worse that she will in fact do absolutely anything for a bit of praise from him. Worrying and deeply disturbing.

“Isn't that good to know,” he whispers, leaning down to press his lips against her warm cheek. She swallows hard, still not looking at him. His hand moves along the column of her neck, a light pressure against her throat, thumb rubbing over her pulse. “Why did you come to me?” he then asks, making her look up with a frown. “You approached me. You made me take you... why?”

Made him... take her? It's that big black hole she has in her memory of how she actually got here. He took her after all, and it wasn't just for a hook-up, she knows that now. He wanted all of her, all for himself, for more than a night. All because she approached him first?

She tries to ignore the dark truth of his actions, focuses on his question, thinks back to the night she's first seen him. “I... I've noticed you before,” she then replies, quietly, watching him as he listens to her. “I've come to the club a lot, always because of... well, you. I wanted to be... one of those girls...” He raises an eyebrow. “Well, you know, you always had one or more around you, and they were all so pretty and tall,” she adds with a little purse to her lips, her words tumbling out of her mouth with a bit of a rush now. “And I wanted that too, I mean, not being tall, I can't just grow like that, right? But, uh, to have your attention. It's silly, isn't it? I barely know you... but... that doesn't matter much, hm? When there are... feelings... or, I guess, illusions of feelings or whatever this is?”

The lines on his forehead deepen slightly. “What are you saying?”

“I was... uh... well, I... I guess I had a... a crush on you,” she says quickly, averting her eyes as her blush expands to her ears and down her neck, a strange tightness settling in her stomach.

“Had?” he asks, nudging her chin with his knuckles to make her look up. “You no longer have a crush on me?”

She lets out a groan, her eyelids fluttering. To be honest, she has no idea. Is this still a crush or something else entirely? Whatever it is, it's anything but healthy, that much she can admit to. “No, I still... I think I still do...” she whispers, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth.

“Still, huh?” he says, his fingers moving up to cup her jaw, turn her face back towards him. “Despite everything?” She nods into his hand. “Aren't you a cute little thing...” he adds with a dark smile. “You're absolutely perfect, do you know that?”

His words surprise her, but as soon as he leans in to press his lips to hers, she doesn't question them anymore. Perfect for what? Doesn't matter. He wants her, all of her. Is it fucked-up and strange? Yes, certainly, but she doesn't care. She has his attention now, more than that even, more than she could have ever imagined (and this is clearly far beyond anything she could have ever thought up on her own).

Her hand finds his wrist, holding onto him as she moves her tongue against his, slow and intimate, a deep connection between two strangers who feel like so much more. What they are exactly, she can't say, and frankly, it doesn't matter.

After breakfast, he shows her around the penthouse. It is a penthouse, high above the city, a giant array of many rooms, most of them he tells her not to enter. There's a gym, another bedroom plus bathroom, his office that's connected to a library, a large room with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves she stares at longer than she should. The interior continues to be minimalist, a lot of blacks and whites, antique-looking wooden floors, intricate trim lining the walls. It looks expensive, luxurious, but ultimately also very masculine.

If she didn't know it already, she'd say this was the typical den of a bachelor, and from all she does know about him prior to waking up in his penthouse, he is one of the most popular ones. Rich and single, no wonder he was always surrounded by women in the club. His club. And to think she is the girl he chose to take back home? It's still mind-blowing to her.

He squeezes her hand to pull her out of the library, and she follows slowly. He's strangely gentle to her, always waits for her because she still can't walk properly (it is his fault though, so it's something a normal man is expected to do, but he is far from normal, that much she knows now, that's why it's such a surprise). He pulls her towards him when he explains things or when they step onto the large balcony that wraps around most of his apartment. And she feels safe, protected, and, despite her isolation from the rest of the world, not alone.

It's a sunny day today, contrary to yesterday, and she's in awe at the view she has over the city. If her whole body wouldn't be in pain from all the former ordeals he's put her through, she'd think she woke up a princess, or at least someone on the whole other end of the wealth spectrum.

She can barely think back to her old life, where she had a shitty job, lived in a shitty apartment the size of his walk-in closet, had barely any friends, mostly just acquaintances, who'd ask her to come along sometimes, and co-workers she'd talk to on occasion, and no family to rely on. It's been a hard, lonesome life, so to be able to spend her time here now, with him, she'd let him bruise her every single day for the rest of her life if it meant she could stay.

That is what this deal is, right? She doesn't have words for it, but it's the age old thing of giving a service to receive something in return. Letting him use her for a chance at a better life. Doesn't sound too bad, does it?

He finishes the tour in front of his office, one hand on her waist, head tilted down to look at her. “Do you want to lie down and rest now?” he asks her, his low voice so gentle she completely forgets about the other side of him, the dark one, the one that forces his cock into her ass to punish her.

She shakes her head. “I'm fine,” she says, stupid as she is, blinded by the pleasantries he's shown her.

The shift in his face is immediate. A dark glint settles in his eyes. “Yeah? No more pain?”

“Well, I'm still sore,” she says quickly, biting her lip. “But it'll be fine.” He seems to understand that she just doesn't want to leave him.

“Come join me in my office then,” he tells her, guiding her into the big room.

The giant desk is the center piece of the space, a large window behind it, a couch on one side, another, smaller desk on the other, framed by shelves and sideboards. Apart from the occasional plant, there's no clutter anywhere, not even on the desk, only a little cart beside it, laden with various alcohol bottles and glasses.

When he leaves her to walk around the desk and sit down on the leather chair, her eyes move to the door leading into the library. She's already turning into that direction, thinking about finding a book to read, when she stops, literally freezes on the spot as she remembers his rules.

She turns back to him, clearing her throat, licking her lips, suddenly very nervous. “Can I... can I get a book from the library?” she asks quietly.

He looks up in the middle of opening a laptop, one eyebrow perked up. “No,” he says, and she frowns at the harshness in his voice, her heart instantly sinking. “Come here,” he adds and waves her over.

Inhaling deeply, she shuffles to him. He rolls back in his chair, creating a space between his legs. The gesture is pretty obvious, the command unspoken, she still hesitates as she moves closer. His eyes darken as he watches her.

“Kneel,” he tells her, and she does, her heart beating faster.

She can't help but wince when she settles between his legs, hands on his thighs, looking up at him, carefully leaning on her knees as to not get the heels of her feet in contact with her sore butt.

His hands move to unbuckle his belt, long fingers opening his pants. “I want you to cockwarm me,” he then says, his eyes boring into hers. “Do you know what that is?”

“I... put your cock in my mouth and keep it warm?” she replies with a raised eyebrow.

“Smart,” he says, patting her head with a smirk. “Exactly like that. But I don't want you to suck me off, understood? You just keep my cock in your mouth, no sounds, no movements. Can you do that?”

She nods slowly, not entirely sure she understands correctly, but she's willing to please him nonetheless. “Yes, sir,” she whispers, shifting closer between his legs.

“I need to work, make some calls and video chats, and you are not allowed to interrupt me. No noises,” he repeats, looking at her pointedly. “If you need a break, you do so quietly. But you will not leave, you'll stay right here under the desk. Just a couple of hours, okay?”

A couple of hours? On her knees with his cock in her mouth? Hours? The shock must be obvious on her face, and he moves his hand down to caress her cheek.

“It's not as bad as you think. Just relax, make yourself comfortable down there. Keep me nice and warm, yeah?” The gentle voice is back, and she inhales deeply, feeling something warm settling in her stomach.

“Yes, sir,” she whispers, giving him a weak smile.

His fingers sink into her hair, and he moves her further under the desk before he rolls his chair closer. There's enough space, even though she feels as if sitting in a wooden box, caged in on three sides, the hard wooden floor beneath her, and the table top above her, but she can look past his chair and out of the window, sees the clear blue sky and some clouds floating by. She cannot see his face though, only his crotch. He grabs her wrist and guides her towards his cock as he frees it with his other hand.

She grips it gingerly, shifting closer on her knees, and she can already tell that this position will add to her list of pains. The floor is hard and unyielding, and her dress not long enough to work as a protective layer. Sighing quietly, she opens her mouth and lets him put his tip on her tongue, then he nudges her to close her lips around it. Her first instinct is to hollow her cheeks, but he quickly corrects her with a soft slap to her jaw.

“Hold completely still,” he reminds her, and she hums in response, nestling between his legs, hands holding onto his thighs, head as still as possible as she feels the weight of him on her tongue. And she's supposed to do this for a couple of hours? She almost wishes he'd just fuck her hard on his desk or something.

She can hear him typing on his keyboard, click clack, a monotonous sound, sometimes mixed with a soft thud when he puts his phone on the table. After only a few minutes, she is not only bored out of her mind, but also feels a slight ache in her jaw. Additionally, it's very hard not to move her tongue. It's so tempting to just flick it around his tip, feel the spongy flesh, taste more of him. His scent is already in her nostrils, and it has a strange effect on her.

An arousing one.

A loud exhale slips through her nose, and she feels him shifting in his chair, his hand coming down to grab her jaw. She lets out a muffled whine when he pulls her head to his crotch, letting him slip deeper into her mouth, but that is not what he intended to do. He presses her cheek down so it rests on his pelvis, close to his hip. She tries to settle into the new position, her knees aching already. Draping her arms around him, she adjusts and actually relaxes against him, his cock heavy on her tongue, a bit more than just the tip.

He ruffles her hair once she keeps still. “Good girl,” he whispers, before he focuses back on whatever he's doing above her. His words only increase the wet feeling between her thighs, but she tries to ignore it, focuses only on the weight and scent and feel of him in her mouth. She even closes her eyes, leaning against his warm body, occasionally trying to swallow the drool gathering on her tongue, which is harder with her mouth open like this, so she can't get it all down. Some drips past her lips, running down her chin. But she couldn't care less.

Suddenly his voice sounds above her, and she realizes he must be talking to someone, stern, professional, barking orders in a way that's demanding and authoritative. She doesn't care what he says, it doesn't matter to her. It's the thrum and timbre of his voice that lulls her, makes her sleepy, and she feels herself drifting off, jaw going slack, but then a jerk runs through her body, making her twitch, and she gasps as she realizes she's bumped into him as she fumbled to put his cock inside her mouth again.

He keeps talking as if nothing happened, but his legs press against her shoulders for a bit, and she relaxes into him again, adjusts her position, keeps her eyes open and stares past his crotch towards the wall – which is so boring. A simple white, maybe even a soft beige, she isn't sure. Could be the daylight that changes the color. Daylight. There are no shadows to follow, no indication of how much time has passed. Just his voice, then silence when he's done with the call, the click clack of his keyboard.

Sometimes he moves his hand under the desk to caress her hair, slip his fingers through it, massage her scalp. She hums softly then, and he allows the quiet noise. Her jaw is tense, upper lip is dry and no way to lick it, while more drool keeps running down her chin. She wipes at it with her hand while she keeps one arm around his waist to hold herself up. She is so bored, her mind empty and at the same time not as she thinks about things she would rather do than sit in this uncomfortable position on her knees.

It's not even his cock in her mouth, she's somehow fine with that, but everything around it, the keeping quiet, the not moving, the doing absolutely nothing. And she can't even fall asleep in fear she might bump her head when she wakes up or maybe even bites down on him because she can't control her jaw any longer. For what it's worth, it's these doubts that keep her awake at least.

To keep herself somewhat entertained, she tries to think back to all the things that happened since she woke up in his bed. Her memories are hazy, but she still remembers the moment when he forced the plug into her butt, just like that, as if it was a normal thing to do. And she had just let him – well, she couldn't really fight him, she's tried, oh and he'd spanked her for it also. So fighting him really is and was not an option.

While she thinks back to the beginning of their strange situation, she hears his voice again, interrupted by other voices. A video chat probably. Again she doesn't care what those men are talking about, it doesn't matter to her.

Rolling her jaw a little, accidentally pushing her tongue against the underside of his cock, she stiffens slightly, waits for his reaction, but nothing happens. He keeps perfectly still, a true professional talking to whoever, while some girl he picked up in his club cockwarms him under his desk. What a normal thing. What a strange world where this is indeed beginning to be normal to her as well.

She dares another little press of her tongue, feeling the texture of his warm skin, the veins throbbing beneath it, and again he doesn't do anything. In her mind she thinks back to the first time she had his cock in her mouth, that handjob turned blowjob on the couch, how he's forced her down on him, how panicked she has been – and in comparison to the next blowjob in the kitchen, he had been really gentle.

A shudder rushes through her as she remembers how he pushed into her throat, made her gag, that horrible twitch of her body she couldn't control, the feeling of not being able to breathe, choking on him and her own spit. Nothing she wants to experience again, but knowing her situation, she may not have the luxury to wish for anything.

When her thoughts become darker all of a sudden, she focuses back on the here and now, hears the drone of the voices above the table, feels his warm legs around her, ignores the ache of her knees and jaw, the constant flow of drool down her chin, the weight and heat and taste of his cock in her mouth.

Somehow he's gotten a little harder, thicker, filling her mouth more, straining against her lips, and she can't help but move her tongue beneath him, roll her jaw once more, and then she sucks, hollows her cheeks, not necessarily to do something to him, but to keep the spit inside her mouth. His hand is on her head in no time, fingers digging into her hair, and she forces herself not to make any noise as she flinches against him.

His grip is rough, but his hand is heavy, holds her down, in place, still, and she relaxes again, breathes deep through her nose, closes her eyes, doesn't move as she holds him between her lips. The tension in his fingers eases, and he starts to caress her again, gently massaging her scalp, all while talking to some men over a video call.

And eventually her head runs completely empty. The way he touches her, how his cock rests hot and hard and heavy on her tongue, his scent all around her, it's all there is, all that matters.

Him.

Someone to focus on, someone to please... someone to service...

Only him.

It's his voice in her head, a soft echo, getting louder, clearer. “Baby?”

Her eyelids flutter open, a new strand of saliva drips from her chin. His hand is on her jaw, catching it. It takes her a moment to realize where she is. Under the desk, between his legs, his cock still in her mouth. She moves her hand up, rests it on his thigh, and he slowly rolls his chair back. She follows the movement, shifts on her knees, a sudden sting crashing through her body, and a muffled groan escapes her.

“You can let go now,” he tells her quietly.

She blinks again, looking up from under her lashes, meeting his gaze. There's a soft smile on his lips. The heat in her stomach is instant, a fire jumping to life by the snap of a finger. She leans back hesitantly, using her hands to hold his cock and wipe at her wet mouth. Her first instinct is to swallow, really swallow, without anything obstructing the motion. Then she inhales deeply, not daring to let go of his erection. It's covered in her spit, as is part of his pants, and she feels her cheeks burning up.

His hand cups her face, thumb rubbing over her chin. She sits back on her knees, one hand braced on his leg, the other tight around his throbbing length. “You did good,” he tells her, nudging her to get to her feet, his other hand prying her fingers off his cock before he grabs it himself.

She more or less crawls out from under the desk, gets up on shaking legs, a strange weakness in her limbs from kneeling for however long he's made her do this. Her head is filled with cotton, a strange vertigo making her sway a little. Suddenly he's standing next to her after she's blinked a few times, that tall frame towering over her, warm, strong, confident.

“Come on,” he says, his voice a little muffled, his hands on her waist turning her until he gently pushes her stomach-first onto the desk. Confusion washes over her, her cheek rests on the cold wood of the tabletop. His knee is pushing her legs apart, he steps between them. Her heart beats faster. His hands move along her sides, following her curves, slip under the skirt of her dress.

He flips it up quickly, while her breaths turn almost frantic. What's going on? His fingers curl around her hips, pulling her back a little. Her hands find the edge of the table. She can only see him out of the corner of her eye, her vision is blurry, he's just this intimidating shadow behind her, backlit by the light streaming through the large window. Her legs twitch against him when she feels his finger in the cleft between her ass cheeks, following the fabric of her thong before pushing it aside, and a quiet wail escapes her.

“Shh,” he makes, not even hesitating when he tugs at the knob of the plug. She squirms a little, her rapid breaths fanning over the tabletop. His thumb presses the metal toy against her tight muscles, and she whimpers in response, the soreness within flaring up again.

“P-please...” she croaks out.

“Please what?” he asks, fingers closing around the base of the plug, pulling gently. “Please fill my ass? Please fuck me hard? Or please stop?” he teases.

She gasps when he suddenly pulls the plug out with a strangely wet pop. She knows she shouldn't answer him, it's a trap either way, but she can't help herself. “Please don't do this...”

He puts the plug on the table next to her, stepping a little closer between her legs. She hears him spitting into his hand, before something wet and warm slips between her cheeks, over her tense hole. He completely ignores her when he dips his finger into her ass.

“Don't! Please!” she whimpers, writhing on the desk.

He pokes his finger deeper. “Why?”

“B-because... you... you just said... said I did good,” she stammers, body shivering under his ministrations. “So... why... why are you... punishing me?”

“Punishing you?” he asks, genuine confusion in his voice as he stills his finger inside her. “This is not a punishment, sweetheart, it's a reward.”

Her response is a sudden sob, tears gathering in her eyes.

“Come on, do you really think anal sex is a punishment? Did it hurt that bad? Didn't you come when I fucked you in the shower? Can't you remember? I bet that felt good, huh?” While he speaks, he pumps his finger in and out, slowly adds another, repeats the motion, every word accentuated by a deep push of his hand against her ass, slow and steady.

She sniffles quietly, unsure what to say to that.

“Does it hurt?” he asks, fingering her harder, deeper, faster, his fingers stretching her tense muscles.

“A-a little,” she whispers.

“Really? Or is it just a strange feeling?”

His question makes her pause. Of course it's a strange feeling, she's never had fingers or other things pushed up her ass before she met him. But she does question the pain or discomfort. Because the more he pushes into her, the better it feels, or maybe her body just adjusts to the sensation, giving her the illusion that it may feel better?

“Huh? What is it?” he presses, moving his fingers faster, the squelching sound making her blush deeply.

“I... I don't know...” she whimpers.

“Does it hurt or does it not hurt? It's a simple question!” He sounds more and more agitated, but she can only breathe faster, whine louder.

“I don't know!” she cries out.

“Well, how about this,” he starts, pulling his fingers from her ass. “How's this then? Does this hurt?” he asks, and she feels the spongy tip of his cock press against her hole. It's a simple roll of his hips, and he's inside her, slipping deeper, slow shallow thrusts as he fills her out.

She can't even say anything or make any noise except a low gurgle from deep within her throat, she can barely breathe with how full she feels all of a sudden. Her fingers curl around the edge of the table, his thrusts, as slow and careful as they may be, pushing her back and forth. His hands grip her waist, it's a steady push and pull as his cock slides in and out, slowly getting faster.

The friction is worse than yesterday, her muscles too tense and unprepared and frankly still sore. He doesn't care, slipping deeper, pounding harder, going faster. Every thrust feeds the fire burning within, the bad kind, not the one smoldering in her stomach, but the one sending cold shivers over her skin as pain ripples through her.

“Does – it – hurt?” he asks through gritted teeth, every word stressed by a particularly hard snap of his hips.

She whines quietly, too overwhelmed to even comprehend the question or why he's asking it.

“Tell – me!” His grip around her waist tightens, fingers digging into the fabric of her dress, squeezing her sides.

She gasps, breathes rougher. “Yes... yes!” she wails.

He stops immediately, the only sound her little whines and the loud thumping of her heart in her ears. His hands ease their grip, moving lower over her curves, caressing her tense skin. His cock rests hard and heavy inside her, throbbing slightly. “Good,” he says, inhaling deeply. “Tell me what you want,” he then asks, kneading her cheeks lightly, pulling them apart as he waits for her answer.

This must be another trick question, she thinks frantically, trying to control her heavy breaths. “I... I don't... I don't want... anything...” she then whispers. Somehow that reply came to her, slipped over her lips, a deep-rooted understanding pushing to the forefront of her mind.

“Correct,” he whispers, surprise evident in his voice. “You don't get to decide what I do to you. You don't get to say no. You take what I give you...”

She closes her eyes, he resumes the rolling of his hips.

“And if I tell you that this is a reward, you better fucking believe it!” he ends, quickly picking up the pace, really hammering into her now.

She cries out, body convulsing, thighs slamming into the hard edge of the desk, the sudden onslaught of sensations making her head spin. His pants and groans become louder, his thrusts even harder, and she succumbs to it all, just takes it, like he wants her to, while hot tears roll over her cheeks, gathering under her head pressed to the table.

The pain is that heavy thing inside her, weighing her down, pulling her into all directions at once, overtaking everything she feels. It's mostly just... hurt. Burning, aching, thumping hurt. Though there is a strange heat building up as well, but it's flimsy, a feeling like trying to catch smoke. She's yearning for it, but it slips away every time he pushes particularly deep.

She's numb when he finally finishes, a loud grunt echoing through the room as he gives her that final thrust and stills, all of him inside of her, his cock throbbing angrily, balls twitching against her folds, ropes of cum shooting into her bruised depths, warm and filling. He leans his hands on either side of her body, breathing heavily as he comes down from his orgasm.

Her eyes are closed, lashes clumped, face wet from crying. Her body shudders deeply when he slowly pulls back, her muscles clenching around him until the pressure is gone, her hole left gaping, something hot and thick dripping from it. He moves his finger around her sphincter, teases it with his fingertip. “Clench,” he orders, and subconsciously or not, she does, muscles working around his digit. He pulls it out and grabs the plug, quickly pushes it back into place, sealing his cum inside her.

He rubs his hands along her rear, then adjusts her thong and pulls her skirt back over it. She hears him walking around the desk, and without much protest, she is being rolled onto her back, head hanging off the edge as he pulls her towards him. Moved like a doll. Used like a toy.

“Open your mouth,” he tells her, and again, she just does, pliant and defeated, her eyelids too heavy to open. His hand is under her head, holding it up, a strong but somehow comforting touch. There's nothing comforting about his next move.

His cock, still semi-hard, pushes into her mouth, her jaw protesting, his tip, wet and slippery, scraping over her gums. He bends her neck a little, stepping closer, sinking it deeper. It hits the back of her throat, and she feels that deep shudder, the uncontrollable twitch, the sliver of panic, when she gags around him, her throat working against the intruder. He pulls back a little, lets her swallow the spit and bile, before he pushes back in, deeper, deeper, filling her throat, his hips resuming those rolling motions, just against her face now.

With how he leans over her, how her head is held by his hands, she feels his tight balls slamming against her nose with every thrust. She's already breathless, gasping and gulping for air whenever he allows her some reprieve between gagging and choking. Spit and cum drip from her lips, trailing down the side of her head. She's too weak to fight this, can't do anything but let him fuck her face, push into her throat, over and over again, until she feels her consciousness slipping.

But he never lets her drift off, watching her closely, pulling back just in time. He seems to fully harden again, more and more with each deep plunge, his groans are quiet, his movements becoming jerkier. She feels so dizzy, muffled whimpers sitting right where he pushes into her throat. Somehow she's stopped gagging, her muscles relaxing enough to allow what he is doing to her.

His hands grip her head, holding her still as he pushes deep, stills there, and shoots thick warm spurts of cum right down her throat. The urge to breathe, to swallow, is that faraway thumping motion in the back of her mind. She doesn't care anymore. She just wants it to end. Tears and spit and cum leave trails on her flushed face. He pulls back eventually, his cock throbbing against her swollen lips, the last drops of his seed landing on her chin and further down her aching neck.

He pulls her off the table, her body limp in his hold. She can barely feel how he sits her down, holds her chin, nudges her softly. “Breathe,” he whispers, wiping at her soiled cheeks. His voice moves something within her, her stomach flutters, chest heaves, and with a deep sharp inhale, she resumes the frantic attempts to get air back into her lungs, gasping, gulping, coughing hard. He gently rubs her throat as he watches her.

She slowly calms down, though new tears spill from her lashes, hot and desperate, and she remains deeply disturbed by the turn of events. When her eyelids flutter open, she sees him leaning over her, watching her, eyes dark and stern.

“Did you like your reward?” he asks.

Something snaps inside her head like a twig that's being stepped on. The fucking audacity! She wants to scratch his eyes out, shove something down his throat for a change.

The sudden anger that rises within her makes her gasp, a deep shiver almost as bad as her gag reflex or the coughing fit that shook her earlier. It terrifies her. Where did that come from? Pressing her lips into a thin line, she only looks at him from under her lashes, afraid she might say something that will make him really angry.

His eyes narrow, jaw clenches. His hand closes around her throat. “When I give you a reward for good behavior,” he starts, his voice low and with a dangerous edge to it. “I expect you to be grateful. I expect you to say thank you.”

She stares at him, blinking slowly, tears streaming down her face. Is he serious? Thank him for this kind of treatment? How was that even a reward? He didn't even make her come! Somehow she didn't want to see it before, but now she does, in that tiny moment of clarity as the relief to still be drawing breath floods her body. She sees it now: he is absolutely insane, there's no other explanation.

(This isn't normal, this isn't what she wanted, not what she wanted, not normal, not wanted, not –)

An even more disturbing revelation is that there's only one thing she can do: follow his orders, be at his mercy, play along.

So she does. “Th-thank you,” she tries to say, but her voice is just that raw, rough croak caught in the back of her throat. She frowns, clears her throat, winces at the strain and ache within. Whines at the pain.

And strangely enough his expression softens, his hand moving to her cheek, caressing it gently. He leans down and presses his lips to her forehead, then wordlessly picks her up onto his arms and carries her out of the office.

FIVE 🟥 SIX 🟥 SEVEN

End notes: So. This happened. It kinda escalated a little in the end, hm? I'm sorry (but not really). You've read the tags though (I hope), so please don't blame me.

Again, I want to stress that THIS IS FICTION! Not real life! I do not condone this behavior! But sometimes those characters that live inside my head have a mind of their own, and they just do stuff, I can't stop them.

So, thank you for (still) being here! Remember, no rain, no rainbow, right? It'll get better again, I promise!

Thanks again for reading! Next chapter on Monday!

TAG LIST: @qmsvpx @cyan1decandy @bimbos-are-angels @voiceactivated @reader-1290

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

CHAPTER / / / ONE◾TWO◾THREE◾FOUR◾FIVE

SIX◾SEVEN◾EIGHT◾NINE◾️TEN

ELEVEN TWELVE ◾️THIRTEEN◾FOURTEEN◾FIFTEEN

SIXTEEN◾SEVENTEEN◾EIGHTEEN◾NINETEEN◾TWENTY

#ao3 original work #dead dove do not eat #dom/sub #d/s dynamic #praise k!nk #free use kink #cnc free use #older man younger woman #size difference #modern au #joel miller smut #supernatural smut #dean winchester smut #arthur morgan smut #simon ghost riley smut #cod smut #original fiction

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winstonsns · 6 months ago

Note

hello!!! I was wondering if I could request a Dallas Winston x reader story based off of the song "she's a fool" by Lesley Gore. The song reminds me a lot of Sylvia and Dallas and so maybe the story can be based around how reader is a better gf than Sylvia and such. Hopefully this makes sense LOL

she’s a fool (request)

authors note: this was super fun to write so i hope you like it 💗

dally x reader

word count: 2.0k

warnings: cussing, slightly suggestive, joking threats

you and your boyfriend, dally, are in your kitchen, both of you sitting on the barstools made for the island. the two of you are talking when you decide to take some cherries out of the fridge, you wanted a little snack to satisfy your hunger.

as you get up from the stool and walk to the fridge, dally asks, “heard that new elvis movie’s out, you wanna come see it with me? it’d be jus’ the two of us.” giving you a certain look and winking at the end.

you blushed, rolling your eyes and stating, “i want to go but i’m gonna ask my parents first. don’t wanna make them worried when they don’t see me at home.” you open up the fridge and take the cherry bag out, turning around and taking a bowl out of the cupboard.

you then take some cherries out of the bag and head towards the sink, rinsing them. dally gives you a confused look, “what— why are you rinsing them?”

looking back at him, you answer, “i dunno, my mom always told me to rinse fruits and vegetables because you never know what kind of bugs can be on them. just tryin’ to stay safe.” your boyfriend finally understands your answer and shrugs it off.

once you were done rinsing them, you put them in a bowl and put it in front of you and dally. your dad then comes down the stairs and says, “almost late for work, honey. i’ll be back around… probably six.”

you nod, grabbing his lunch out of the fridge while he thanks you, you ask, “hey, dad, do you think i could go to the drive in with dally today? it’d probably be around… um…”

looking to your boyfriend for the answer, he looks back at you then to your dad, finishing, “oh, probably around seven or so. we’d be back around nine, i’m guessing. right, baby?”

you blush and look at him, nodding. you stand next to him while he’s sitting, your dad eyes him suspiciously. you put your arms around dally’s shoulder, your chest to his back as you look over his shoulder.

“please, dad? we’ll be safe, dally can protect me, you know him! so strong, so good at fighting and so amazing…” you look at dally, dropping your arm to his bicep, smiling at him sweetly as he eats a cherry, a wide grin on his face.

your dad sighs, “fine. you better keep her safe, winston. and you better not,” he paused, “and i mean better not do anything bad or inappropriate.” you tried to hold back a laugh, a smile evident on both you and your boyfriends faces. your dad made a serious face at you, crossing his arms.

you walked over to your dad and thanked him, “thank you dad! i think you should be heading to work now though, love you!” while you’re giving him a hug, he glares at dally, causing your boyfriend to put his hands up in a mocking surrendering pose.

when you let go of the hug, your dad replies, “love you, kid.” and walks out of the door, you walk behind him to lock the door. you then go back to dally, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and once again kissing him.

after pulling away, he looks at you with so much love in his eyes, anyone would know you are the only one he loves if someone saw him like this. he knows he loves you although it’s difficult for him to express it, he doesn’t directly voice it to you.

the two of you stay at your house for the next nine hours, consisting of you talking, sleeping or reading while he looks around your room. by the time it’s 6:30, the both of you decide to drive to the drive in.

when you get into the drivers seat and your boyfriend is in the passengers seat, he asks, “why ain’t i drivin’?” you chuckle, looking at him to see if he was serious.

you answer, “i love you, dal, but i am not lettin’ you drive my car.” he rolls his eyes as you begin to drive, “i’m a perfectly good driver, don’t know what you’re talkin’ ‘bout…” he mumbles.

you laugh, the only laugh he loves so much, the one he’d notice even if so many others were laughing at the same time. he grins, looking back at your concentrated face, focusing on the road.

when you both arrive at the drive in, you find a good place to park before getting out and sitting on the hood. dally sits next to you, you then hear a loud scream in your ear, causing you to lean towards your boyfriend and look to him for help as you scream back.

you look behind you to see two-bit laughing his ass off, a bottle of alcohol in his hands as you give him a pissed off look. your boyfriend laughs as your side is pressed into his, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and kissing your forehead.

“i’m gonna get us some snacks. you want anything?” you stated, asking your boyfriend too. he thought for a moment before responding, “just a coke, thanks doll.”

as you walk away, he grabs a cigarette from the box in hispocket, he got into the habit of avoiding smoking near you. he grabs a lighter from his pocket, lighting the cigarette and putting it in his mouth.

your boyfriend and two-bit are both talking when keith interrupts, “looks like you got company, dallas. you’re so fucked, i’ll be back when sylvia’s gone.”

dally groans, hearing sylvia’s voice behind him, “hey, dal, you wanna come back to my place after the movie’s done?” the nickname feels so wrong coming from her. he doesn’t even look at her, doesn’t turn around and focuses on the car, your car.

“get the fuck away, i have a girlfriend.” he responds, clearly agitated as he doesn’t want you to see him angry. he doesn’t look to see where you are, he knows you’ll be back soon.

she responds, “so? she doesn’t have to know…” as she puts her hand on his arm, he loses his temper.

“god, don’t you ever know when to fucking stop, sylvia? we broke up because you fucking cheated on me while i was in the cooler, man. there’s no way i could even be with you after that. you’re a piece of shit, you’re a bad person and you deserve nothing but the worst for the rest of your life. i have a girlfriend, she never treats me how you did. she’s way better than you, better than all the girls i’ve dated, and you can go cry about it to someone else for all i care. she treats me like she actually loves me, she treats me like she knows my fucking worth. she does more than you ever could, and she is the one i want. you can piss off, sylvia, you’re dead to me, you fucking get that?” he pauses, still angry as he sees tears in her eyes, “oh, now you’re crying, huh? maybe you should’ve thought first before cheating on me, before treated me like shit! get fucking lost.”

she runs away at the last sentence, dally rolling his eyes and leaning against the car, going back to smoking. two-bit walks back to him, asking, “damn, you do care about y/n. never heard you talk about her like that, is it true?”

your boyfriend stares at him, nodding slightly and taking the cigarette out of his mouth, “you tell anyone about this, i’ll cut your damn head off.” his friend chuckles at the threat, stating, “your girl’s back, put it out before she sees.” referring to the cigarette.

he drops it and puts it out with his heel, walking over to you and putting his arm around your shoulder, taking his soda out of your hands, thanking you.

the both of you sat down on the hood of your car, you scoot closer to him and give him a kiss on the cheek. he smiles at you, returning the favor except on your forehead.

as the movie plays, the soda cups begin to become less filled, the chip bags only being filled with crumbs. the silence of you and dally are occasionally interrupted with little comments about the movie.

once the movie is done, the two of you look at each other and smile. you grab his trash and walk to a trash can, him following you, for protection, he says. he then follows you back to the car, grabbing your hand and staying close to you.

the both of you get into the car, driving in the direction of your house. the drive there is filled with silence, dally looks at you, not being able to see your face well because of the dark. he places his hand on your thigh, looking out the window once you turn your head to him.

when you arrive at your house, you open the door to see your dad in the living room, sitting on the couch. he reads the newspaper and looks up, asking, “how was the movie, you two?”

you respond, “oh, it was good!” and summarize the whole movie for him, as he wasn’t planning to see it anytime soon.

you then look nervously at the ground, your boyfriend still behind you at the entrance, standing awkwardly. you ask, “hey, um, dad?”

he sighs, putting down his newspaper as you smile, “can dally stay over tonight? he’s already here and it would take him a while to get back to his own place…”

your dad sighs once again as your boyfriend is silent, “yeah. go to bed.” you exclaim and walk to your dad, hugging him and thanking him.

you then walk to your boyfriend, leading him upstairs as he grabs your hand once again. you notice and ask, “dal, you seem awfully close today, did something happen? i’m not complaining, just wondering.”

he looks at you, stating, “sylvia came up to me at the drive in. asked me if i wanted to go back to her place, i said no and told her i gotta girlfriend, that you’re way better than her and i’d never want her again, not even to save my life. told her to piss off.”

as the two of you walk into your bedroom and you close the door, you beam, “aww, that’s so cute, dal! thank you for telling her to piss off and stuff.”

“yeah, no problem, doll.” he replies, letting go of your hand for a brief moment to take his shirt off, changing his pants into more comfortable ones he had left at your house.

you walked into your bathroom, doing your nightly routine before changing into your pajamas. you pull the sheets down, curling up as you look at your boyfriend.

he smiles, scoffing and pulling down the sheets on the other side of the bed, laying down. you cuddle up next to him as he puts his arm around your waist in a protective manner.

“love you, dal… thanks for being the best boyfriend ever…” you mumble into his chest, falling asleep quickly after.

he pauses before kissing your forehead gently, your head on his chest. he realizes he wants to be cherished, to be loved, you make him feel that way. he can’t find a single flaw in you, and realizes he should treat you like he loves you. you are a better girlfriend than sylvia ever was, than all of his girlfriends combined. you make him feel like someone, make him feel like he has someone to live for.

“sweet dreams, baby.” he mumbles into your hair, falling asleep not long after. your dad quietly opens the door, light coming in as he saw you and your boyfriend cuddling.

he chuckles softly, closing the door and walking into his own bedroom, knowing you were truly loved by dallas winston.

#the outsiders x reader #the outsiders #dally winston x reader #dallas x reader #the outsiders dally #dally winston #dallas winston #dallas winston x reader #dating dallas winston #dallas winston fluff #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston oneshot #winstonsns #x reader

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i-am-baechu · 5 months ago

Text

˚⋆𓇼˚⊹ 𖦹 ⁺｡° Sticky ⁞ Ot7

☼ Summary: Happy Summer! The time where you take a break from the harshness of life and have some fun. Who would’ve thought seven friends would fall for the same girl on this Summer vacation?

☼ Paring: ot7 x reader

☼ Rating: Pg - 14

☼ Genre: Fluff, comedy, romance, small angst and a little spice

☼ Author’s note: Don’t ever trust people like this, especially in another country on vacation. This is only fictional and I want to make it clear that it's pure fiction. Be safe out there, no matter the gender, be safe.

☼ Playlist: Sticky - Kiss of Life

It’s been forever since BTS had a vacation, a real vacation. Sure they had In The Soop but they were still working and they had to watch what they say or do. This time it's a real vacation. Namjoon was the first one to bring it up. They were going to the military soon and they haven’t had a real vacation without cameras. He still remembers how everyone reacted.

Namjoon walked into the meeting room with nothing in his hands. This caused Yoongi to furrow his eyebrows at the sight, “Are you sure this is a meeting?”

Namjoon gave his signature smile and nodded his head, “Yes it is.”

“Hyung, where’s the papers then?”

Namjoon shook his head and took out six tickets. He fanned them out and smiled at them, “We’re going on vacation.”

Jungkook leaned forward and glanced at the tickets, “Oh, like another In The Soop?”

“Nope.”

Hoseok glanced at Yoongi and then back at Namjoon, “Bon Voyage?”

“Nope, a real vacation.”

Jimin tilted his head in confusion, “Why?”

Namjoon sighed and set the tickets on the table, “When was the last time we went on a real vacation.”

Jin shrugged his shoulders and leaned back in his chair, “I mean...In The Soop.”

“We had cameras around us. I mean a real vacation, with no cameras.” The room went silent and Namjoon crossed his arms, “See, we can’t even name it. We’re going to the military soon, this is our time to have fun before leaving.”

Taehyung nodded his head at this and looked at the others, “That sounds fun. We work hard.”

Jungkook nodded his head with hesitation and then looked at Namjoon, “What will the managers say?”

“Oh, I already handled that.”

Yoongi leaned back in his chair and rubbed his forehead, “What about our album?”

“Our album can wait. Our lives can’t.”

Yoongi sighed and glanced at Jin, “What do you think?”

“I guess we’re going on vacation.”

That’s how they landed in Turks and Caicos. The beautiful island with the ideal beach in any kid's dream and the weather that beats the rain in Korea. They were all looking at the area with wide eyes. It wasn’t until a woman in a suit came up to them with a wide grin, “Kim Namjoon?”

Namjoon bowed his head and nodded, “Yes.”

“I’m the hotel manager that you spoke to over the phone. I am happy that you trusted us with keeping your vacation confidential.”

Namjoon smiled at her and nodded her head, “Thank you, Mrs. Johnson. Thank you for giving us the room that you did.”

“Anything for our clients. Let me show you the room.”

L/N Y/N took a sip of her frozen strawberry margarita as she sat by the pool. This was her first real girl trip with her friends. They finally left their retail jobs and got big girl jobs. Never in her late twenties did she think she could afford a trip to Turks and Caicos. Budgeting and no DoorDash can do wonders for the bank. It was the first day of their vacation and she wanted to spend time at the pool with a margarita and a book. What more can you want on a vacation? Her friends decided to sleep in and she wasn’t going to wake them up, they deserved the sleep. They work hard.

She also wanted to have fun on this vacation. She wanted to do things that she would never do at home. Of course, she has limitations but she was going to have fun. Having a frozen strawberry margarita at ten in the morning, that’s a start. She stood up and her sarong gently touched the back of her legs. With it being a vacation, she was going to dress differently. Bikinis and mini dresses were the main attire packed up (with her Hello Kitty pajamas and an abundance of cartoon socks but that's beside the point). She was dressed in a v-neck triangle light green bikini and she felt good for once in her life.

She put her hair in a high bun and she looked at the entrance when she heard voices. It was still pretty early and she was the only one at the pool. She kind of assumed everyone was too hungover to wake up this early. She saw a tallish man (everyone was taller than her) on the phone talking away. He was handsome, she wasn’t stupid. He was handsome but cute at the same time. He had plump lips and earrings that made him more attractive in her book. Speaking of the book, she quickly picked it up when he turned his head towards her.

She glanced over the cover and saw him putting stuff on the lounge chair. He was still on the phone but it sounded like the conversation was dying out. She couldn’t really hear what was being said but she tried her best to stay out of it. She noticed he had a tattoo going down his back of the moon phases pecking through his shirt and her eyes widened. Who would’ve thought a handsome/cute man would have so many tattoos? She took a sip of her margarita and kept eyeing him. He was interesting but she didn’t have the balls to talk to someone like that. She would just eye him and that’s the best she could do.

Jimin glanced over his shoulders and saw the women looking at him. He smirked to himself because he saw her through the glass when they were heading up to the room. He wanted to get to know her.

They all stood in the glass elevator as Namjoon talked to the hotel manager. Jimin was leaning against the wall but he landed on someone at the pool. She was cute (from what he could see, cute and hot in a bikini) and she was the only one at the pool. He nodded to himself and planned out his next move as they moved out of the elevator.

He set his stuff on the bed and turned towards Namjoon, “I’ll be gone.”

Namjoon raised his eyebrow, “Where are you going?”

“Pool.”

Taehyung let out a scoff and turned towards Namjoon, “He saw someone.”

“It’s my vacation. I can do it however I want.”

Namjoon rolled his eyes and nodded his head, “Just be careful.”

The plan was to walk out talking on the phone when in reality there was no one on the other side. He knew this would capture her attention because there was no one else there. Seeing her closer confirmed his thoughts. She was cute and hot. He took off his shirt and ruffled his hair, tossing his shirt on the chair. He turned towards her and smiled. He slowly walked towards her with a bottle of sunscreen, “Need some?”

She put her book down and raised her eyebrow at him with a confused look, “M-Me?”

Jimin nodded his head and titled his head, “A cute girl needs help.”

“I’m the cute girl?”

Jimin let out a laugh and nodded his head, “Yeah, you are.”

She looked around and then back at him with a confused look, “Are you pranking me?”

“No, I can prove it.”

“How?”

“There’s a small cafe on the beach. Let me take.”

She felt her face flush and nodded her head, “Sure...I already put sunscreen on. Nice try.”

“Trying is good.”

She let out a small laugh and tilted her head, “Where are you from?”

“Korea.”

“Oh, it’s cold there right now. Big difference.”

Jimin nodded his head, “Hot, here.”

“Yeah, but it feels great.” Y/N stood up and placed her book in her bag, “I’m ready.”

Jimin smiled and glanced down at the sunscreen, “No sunscreen.”

“Later. If you can keep me for two hours.”

“I can.”

Jimin gathered his small bag and put his shirt in it. He put his hand out and she glanced at it with a raised eyebrow, “You want to hold my hand? Scandalous isn’t it?”

“I don’t want to lose you. A lot of people.”

She nodded her head and intertwined her fingers with his, “Okay loverboy let’s go.”

The cafe was beautiful, it was placed right on the beach and it was the perfect view of the ocean. She glanced at the water and smiled, “So pretty.”

“Yeah, you are.”

She snorted at this and picked up a french fry, “Shut up.”

He leaned forward and she raised her eyebrow at him. He gently brought his thumb and wiped away the salt with a smirk, “Messy.”

“Ye-Yeah...”

He sat back down and smirked at her, “Ocean?”

“Sure.”

He paid for their meal (He wouldn’t let her even when she protested) and walked onto the white sands. The sand was warm but it wasn’t hot yet. Thank god it was early. She set her towel down and glanced at him who just stood there, “What?”

“No towel.”

She nodded her head and took out another one from her bag, “I always pack two just in case.”

“Thank you, you were expecting me?”

She rolled her eyes and sat on the towel, “In your dreams.”

He set the towel down and put his bag on top of it. He went to stand in front of her with a smile, “Ocean.”

“Now?”

“Yes, it is fun.”

She nodded her head and took off her sarong to reveal her legs. Jimin couldn’t stop himself from glancing at her thick thighs and her tiny tummy made her hotter. She fixed her hair and looked at him with a confused look, “You okay?”

“Perfect.”

They slowly made their way to the water and she let out a small sigh, “It’s perfect.”

He eyed her up and down and nodded, “Perfect.”

She turned towards him and splashed some water on him. He raised his eyebrow and started splashing some water back at her. She let out a loud laugh and he went towards her with a smirk. He picked her up and she wrapped her legs around his waist as they looked into each other’s eyes. Before she could say anything, her Apple watch buzzed. She glanced at the tiny glass and sighed, “My friends are asking me where I am.”

“You have to go?”

“Sadly.”

Jimin glanced down at her chest and then back at her, “Now?”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Jimin helped her down and he leaned forward to place a kiss on her cheek, “We’ll meet again. So no worries.”

She nodded her head and looked back at her bag, “Can you give me your number? If you want..”

“I want.”

With his number secured, she kissed him on the cheek and was off with a red face. Jimin watched a smirk and couldn’t take his eyes off until she was out of sight. He leaned back on her towel and smiled, “Maybe Namjoon was right. We needed a vacation.”

The club was new. Especially for Y/N but then again this morning was new for her too. A hot guy being interested in her was wild to think. Tonight the girls wanted to hit the club and have fun there. How could she say no to her friends? She was talking to her best friend, Steph, and was laughing.

“I needed this vacation.”

Y/N took a sip of her drink and nodded her head, “I’m surprised Andrew let you come.”

Steph rolled her eyes and slammed her vodka soda, “After putting up with him collecting cars and not doing anything. He better let me have this vacation.”

Y/N let out a small laugh and nodded her head. She pushed the food towards her and smiled, “Make sure you eat. You’ll get sick if you just drink.”

Steph took the burger and nodded her head, “Yes mother.”

Y/N looked out into the dancefloor and looked at Ava and Aria dancing away with wide smiles. Y/N sighed and shook her head, “They’re drunk.” She glanced at the patio and sighed to herself, “I need some fresh air.”

“You want me to come with you.”

“No, I have my location on.”

“Okay, be safe.”

Y/N sat down on the patio and looked at the ocean with a soft smile. It was calming, the waves gently hitting the shores and the side of the fireplace crackling next to her. It was peaceful. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, “Calming isn’t it?”

She turned her head and saw a smile that could melt hearts (dimples can kill anyone). She nodded her head and glanced at the waves, “It is. We all need that in life.”

“Agree.”

“Good vacation so far?”

Namjoon took a sip of his wine and nodded his head, “Good first day. I took a break from watching my friends.”

She let out a small laugh and nodded her head, “I know how that is. I have to watch my friends too. Being a parent is hard.”

He let out a loud laugh and put his cup on the table, “Is this your first day?”

“Secondish...the first day we came here at ten at night. I don’t count that as the first day.”

“I wouldn’t. It’s mostly just jetlag, no fun in that.”

“It was kind of fun because it was like a sleepover. Just us being overtired and no conversation.”

Namjoon nodded his head and leaned towards her to give her his full attention, “I wish I could say that. Even though my friends are tired, they just talk and talk.”

“That’s cute, they want to keep the conversation going.”

“It stops being cute when you're dead tired.”

“I can imagine that.”

He glanced down and noticed she didn’t have a drink. He looked at her with a smile that could melt anyone, “Do you want a drink?”

“Oh-no thank you. I just had a glass of water. I have to watch my friends.”

“Shouldn’t the parents have a day off?”

She glanced at him and bit her lip, “I’ll take red wine...”

“Let me get that for you. I’ll be back.”

She nodded and watched him leave. She quickly stood up and made sure her dress looked acceptable. It was satin so making sure there were no wrinkles was impossible. She fixed her hair the best she could and sat back down, trying to look like she was just waiting for him. When he came back, she sat a little taller and smiled at him. He handed her the glass and she took the glass (making sure their fingertips touched). She smiled at him, “Thank you.”

“No problem. I didn’t get your name.”

“It’s Y/N.”

“That matches you.”

She took a sip and raised her eyebrow. She put her glass on the table and leaned back, “Oh? Why?”

“It’s a beautiful name.”

She had to hold back the crackle that was boiling inside. She couldn’t scare off this man so she instead snorted and hid her nose with her hand, “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry. It was cute.”

She rolled her eyes and looked back at the ocean, “A snort is cute. Say’s Who?”

“Says me. You think I would lie?”

She glanced back at him and she saw him giving her a lustful look. She sat up straight and let out a nervous laugh, “I-I wouldn’t call you a liar.”

“I wouldn’t lie to a pretty girl.” She nodded her head and picked up her wine. She took a small gulp causing him to let out a small laugh, “You good?”

“Fine.”

She glanced back to see Steph on the phone and she sighed, “My friend is on the phone with her husband. I have to check on her.”

“You’ll come back?”

“Yeah, don’t worry.”

She stood up and walked towards Steph who was crying now. She frowned at this and pushed away the cup so she didn’t drink more, “What’s wrong?”

“Andrew is mad at me. It’s so stupid.”

“Want to go back to the hotel?”

“Yeah, I need cake.”

Y/N rubbed her back and nodded her head, “We’ll get you cake.”

Y/N went to the dance floor with Steph cuddling into her shoulder. She tapped on Ava’s shoulder and glanced down at Steph, “We're in need of help.”

Ava and Aria sobbed up in a second and took Steph into their arms, “What’s wrong?”

“Andrew happened.”

Y/N rubbed her back gently and she turned her head to see the man who she was talking to coming towards her, “Is everything okay?”

Y/N glanced at Steph and shook her head, “I have to take care of her.”

Namjoon glanced and nodded her head, “I get it.”

“Can I get a name?”

“Joon.”

Y/N nodded her head and smiled at him, “I’ll see you later, Joon.”

Namjoon watched her leave and sighed. He felt an arm over his shoulders and looked at Jimin with a raised eyebrow, “What?”

“You got clockblock?”

“Shut up.”

Steph was taken care of all night, she fell asleep with a piece of cake in her hand. Ava and Aria left for another party after Y/N told them to go have fun and it was alright for them to go. This morning, Y/N woke up to see everyone sleeping and she smiled at this. Everyone was here and safe. Y/N stood up and went towards the bathroom to get washed up. Today she was going to explore the town. It was so nice that she couldn’t pass up the opportunity to explore.

She dressed her up in a floral ruffled dress with simple sandals and she was off. Today she was going to take pictures of the ocean or any scenery that caught her eye. Today was pretty chill and it felt nice to be outside. She grabbed her Canon camera out of her bag and she started to take pictures of the palm trees with the clear skies. She smiled to herself and she went to take a picture of the ocean but was stopped by a deep voice, “I know a better place.”

She turned around and was met with a tan God looking at her with a boxy smile, Holy shit is this island just filled with hot people? She let out a small cough and glanced at the ocean, “I like this spot. Thanks.”

“Hyung, we should go now-who is this?”

She turned around to see the new voice and was met with a buff guy with a sleeve. She glanced down at his arm and then at his cute face that had piercings, this the second guy who has tattoos but is so cute? The hell...

“I wanted her to come with us to take pictures of the sun with the ocean.”

Y/N pouted and looked at the spot she had and then back at them, “What’s wrong with my spot?”

“There’s too many people here.”

“I could always photoshop them out.”

“Yeah, but this view is better. You get the whole city and the ocean.”

Y/N glanced at the two and then back at her camera, “Why do I keep running into hot guys?” She looked back at them with a small glare, “How do I know you're safe?”

Jungkook chuckled at this and put his hands up, “You can search us.”

Y/N got flustered at this and shook her head, “Th-That’s not what I meant.”

“Well doll, we would be glad if you searched us.”

She raised her eyebrow at this and grabbed her camera, “Fine. Show me the spot before we go, tell me your names.”

Jungkook and Taehyung glanced at each other. They were having a silent conversation with their eyes. Taehyung glanced at her with his boxy smile, “My name is Tae.”

Jungkook nodded his head and turned towards her, “My name is Kook.”

“Cute names. Let’s go before I change my mind.”

They walked for what felt like hours but Y/N learned more about them. They were passionate about the arts and it was clear they had jobs in the arts. With the way they talked about music, it was more than passion.

They stood on a cliff and Y/N took a step back and felt arms around her waist. She looked up to see Jungkook wiggle his eyebrows, “Are you scared?”

“Of course I am. We’re by a fucking cliff.”

“Doll likes to cuss. This is the perfect shot.”

Jungkook let go of her and she took one step forward with her hands shaking, “It’s pretty...it's too high.”

Jungkook went towards her and grabbed her waist again, “I’ll help you take the picture.”

“O-Okay.”Jungkook held her waist tightly and she felt his breathing on the back of her neck. She ignored the feeling in her stomach and went to take the picture. Tae was right, this is the perfect shot. She took the picture and her head fell into Jungkook’s neck with, “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“We did it together.”

She glanced up to see Jungkook giving her a small teasing smirk. She rolled her eyes and glanced at Taehyung who was getting his pictures. He was so focused that he didn’t even realize the stare from her. She felt her phone buzz in her pocket and Jungkook let go of her. She took her phone out and looked at the text, Thinking of you - Pool Boy

She rolled her eyes and put her phone back in her pocket. She glanced down to see a butterfly on a flower and she smiled. She zoomed in on the blue creature and took the picture. Jungkook watched with a small smile on his lips. He let out a small cough and this caught her attention, “We’re meeting someone for lunch. Would you want to come?”

Y/N glanced down at her watch and saw that none of the girls texted her back. She nodded her head and shrugged her shoulders, “Sure.”

They started to walk away from the cliff when she felt an arm around her waist. She glanced at the arm and then at the person, “Tae?”

He glanced down with a smirk and shrugged his shoulders, “Kook, got to touch you. It’s my turn”

She shrugged her shoulders and looked away, “Sure...”

They walked down to a random cafe on the shoreline. She pushed some hair back and entered the AC cafe. The place was cute and the theme was seashells, it was very welcoming, “Hyung.”

She glanced at the table to see someone smiling at them with a heart-shaped smile. It was a nice smile and it made her feel safe. Taehyung walked her over to the table with Jungkook following right behind. She smiled at him and made a small wave at him, “Hello. I’m sorry if I’m intruding but I was invited. I can leave if you want.”

Hoseok shook his head and patted the seat next to him, “No, I like company.”

She smiled at this and sat next to him as Jungkook and Taehyung sat across with annoyed looks. She turned towards Hoseok and smiled, “My name is Y/N.”

“Mine is Seok.”

“So, Seok. Are you on vacation with Tae and Kook?”

Hoseok glanced at the two younger men and then back at her, “Yeah, it’s been fun so far. Watching them get drunk.”

Y/N glanced at them and then back at Hoseok, “I can see them being a lot.”

“They are, trust me.”

YN glanced down at the menu and looked up at Jungkook, “I’m just going to get some bread.”

“Why?”

“I have dinner tonight with my girls. I don’t want to be full.”

Taehyung nodded his head at this and closed the menu, “Then let me pay for it.”

“Oh, you don’t-”

“I wanted to pay for it.”

Taehyung glanced at Jungkook and it turned into a glare, “I met her first.”

“So.”

Hoseok rolled his eyes and took his wallet, “I’ll pay for her. Now pick your food.”

The two pouted and glanced down at the words. Y/N raised her eyebrow and glanced at Hoseok, “You know how to control them.”

“I can show that too.”

She looked away from his eyes and Hoseok let out a small laugh, “Shy little thing.”

After they ordered, they all started talking about random things. She had a lot of things in common with them. She was always shocked when hot people had the same interest as her because she’s just Y/N. These are hot men talking to her. She took a bite of her bread and laughed at a joke that Hoseok said. Hoseok glanced down at his phone and rolled his eyes, “We have to go back to our hotel.”

Y/N looked at the time and nodded her head, “I have to check on my friends.” The group moved out of the cafe and they walked towards the hotel. Y/N raised her eyebrow and glanced at them, “Are we staying in the same hotel?”

Taehyung glanced at the tall building and then back at her, “How lucky are we?”

“It’s a nice hotel. It took us months to get this room.”

Taehyung glanced at Jungkook who was chuckling at his missed attempt to flirt. Hoseok wrapped his arm over her shoulder and smiled, “That means we get to see each other more then.”

“That’s always fun.”

They entered the Hotel and she looked up at Hoseok, “I’m on the first floor.”

“Oh. We have to say goodbye so fast.”

Y/N nodded her head sadly, “I’ll see you around. You can always take me to that cafe.”

Jungkook came forward and nodded his head, “Is that a promise?”

“It’s something. I’ll see you around.”

They watched her leave their sighted and Hoseok sighed at this, “Fucking Namjoon.”

“He just cockblocked us.”

“She would want me.”

“Shut up Jungkook, let’s go.”

Y/N sat in the buffet all alone. She was annoyed because the girls just wanted to sleep and party. She understood that this was their vacation but she was basically doing everything by herself. She took a bite of her crab and sighed to herself. It wasn’t fun when you're by yourself.

She stood up to get seconds when someone ran into her. She dropped her plate and whatever he had on his plate was now on her, “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She looked up and saw broad shoulders staring at her. She turned her head up and saw the softest brown eyes looking at her with pure regret. She glanced down at her shirt and saw it was covered in a sauce and frowned, “It happens.”

“Let me make it up to you.”

“Oh, how?”

“I’ll pay for dinner tonight and a new shirt.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at this and shook her head, “That’s asking too much.”

He shrugged his shoulders and glanced down, “I spilled pasta all over your shirt. Let me make this better.”

She sighed and nodded her head, “Okay.”

“Are you pasta?”

“What?”

“Cause you’re always on my mind.”

She covered her mouth and let out a loud laugh. She looked away from him and he felt proud of his joke, “I’m Jinnie”

“I’m Y/N. Good joke by the way.”

“Finally someone respects my jokes. Let me show you my table.”

Before they moved, Y/N gently grabbed his wrist causing him to look at her, “Do you have a date or anything?”

“No, but I do now.”

She raised her eyebrow and nodded her head, “Okay...I like that.”

He pulled out her chair and she sat down with her rocking a hotel shirt. The two sat at the table and she pushed some hair back, “I was going to get some pasta.”

“Ravioli?”

“I’m not sure to be honest.”

“Cause you’re stuffed with all the right stuff.”

It took her a minute to process the joke and then she started to laugh. She covered her mouth and shook her head, “You're on a roll.”

“With butter?”

“Shut up and come get food with me, Jinnie.”

The two talked all night and shared food with each other. She learned that he’s allergic to garlic and had to make sure the pasta was made separately. He learned that she was allergic to most fruits and how it became a challenge to drink. After the buffet, Jin took her to the arcade and her eyes widened.

She glanced at him and gave him a small smirk, “I’m going to wipe the floor with you.”

“Oh, are you?”

The two ran towards the shooting game and Y/N nodded her head towards him, “Are you ready soldier?”

“Ready if you are. What’s our mission?”

“Whoever kills the most zombies wins.”

“Yes, loser.”

Y/N stuck her tongue out and turned towards the screen, “Start!”

The two started playing but Jin kept getting distracted by her laugh. It was so soft and he was just glad that she was having a good time. She dropped the gun and started clapping her hands, “I won.”

“You cheated.”

She glanced at him and winked, “You're just a loser.”

“I’ll beat you in a racing game.”

“You're so on.”

Jin was right, he won that game. The competitiveness that they both had wasn’t allowing them to walk away from the games. They were down to the final game, skee ball. They were tied and Y/N turned towards Jin, “Last game?”

“Whoever wins is the champion.”

“I plan on.”

“We’ll see.”

Jin frowned and watched Y/N trade her tickets for an oversized squirrel. She glanced at him and frowned, “Are you sad?”

“No...”

She let out a small laugh and handed him the squirrel, “Here, you take it.”

He unfolded his arms and raised his eyebrow, “What?”

“You reminded me of a squirrel. Cute.”

Jin felt his neck get hot and he quickly shook his head, “Well you’re my squirrel then.”

“Oh?”

“Two cute creatures have to stick together.”

She let out a laugh and shook her head, “I guess we do.”

He walked her down her hall and she smiled at him, “I’ll see you?”

“Yeah.”

Y/N stood on tippy toes and kissed his check, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

He walked out of the hallway as first as he could as Y/N watched with amusement. She bite her lip and walked towards her room, what a great vacation.”

“You need to get fucked.”

Y/N choked on her drink and stared at Aria with wide eyes, “Excuse me?”

Aria twirled her drink and looked around the club, “You’ve been standing here, doing nothing. You need a good dick.”

“I’m fine.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and took a sip, “I’m fine-”

“You need to have fun.”

Y/N glanced at Steph and scoffed at this, “I have been having fun. This whole vacation I’ve been having fun.”

Steph rolled her eyes and finished her drink, “Go talk to someone. That guy over there has been eye fucking all night.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just look.”

Y/N followed Steph’s gaze and her eyes widened. There was a man who was already looking at her. He was dressed in a black leather jacket with a simple black shirt but it made him look so expensive. She let out a small cough and shook her head, “Ladies, I-”

“This is from the gentlemen over there.”

She glanced at the waiter and raised her eyebrow. She bowed her head to say her thanks and took the drink. On the bottom of the glass there was a note. She took the note and gave her drink to Ava. She opened the note and she felt a rush, Come to me. She glanced up and saw him giving her a small smirk. She melted at this and looked at her friends, “I’ll see you guys later. Fyi, I’m doing this because I want to. Not because of you guys.”

“Whatever, just get dick.”

She rolled her eyes at Ava and walked towards the mystery man. Yoongi finished his whiskey and saw that she was coming towards her. She was dressed in a nice black dress and it wasn’t too mini like the other girls. He watched her scold her friends for drinking too much and making sure that they had water. She was caring and hot. Perfect.

He put his glass down and glanced up, “You like to follow commands.”

Y/N felt her face get hot and shrugged her shoulders, “I-I wanted to come over here.”

“Oh, did you? That fine ass just walked towards me just because?”

“I’m Y/N.”

Yoongi nodded his head and looked her up and down, “I’m Yoon. Let’s get out of this loud club.”

“Su-Sure.”

The moment the elevator closed, Y/N was pinned against the wall. Yoongi was kissing her up and down her neck with passion. It was as if she would disappear in seconds. She couldn’t stop herself from moaning and grinding into him. He moved away and grinded right back at her, “You're all ready for this, aren’t you?”

“Ye-Yes.”

The door opened and Yoongi intertwined their fingers together, “Let’s go.”

She followed him like a lost lamb and she was going to experience something life changing. She knew this. She watched him open the door and the moment the door closed, his hands were all over her. She kissed him with the same amount of passion but stopped when there was a cough. Yoongi groaned at this and pulled away to look behind him, “What?”

“Hyung, at the door?”

“Kook?”

Jungkook looked past Yoongi and his mouth dropped when he saw Y/N, “Y-Y/N?”

“That’s your name? Y/N?”

She walked forward and saw Jimin looking at her with a shocked look, “Pool boy?”

Just then the rest of BTS came out and stared at Y/N with shock. She let out a shocked laugh and turned towards Yoongi, “I-I can’t believe this.”

“It seems like we all wanted you.”

“Y/N was the girl that Jimin was talking about...that’s crazy.”

Y/N looked towards them and frowned, “I-I’m sorry. I don’t want you guys thinking I was leading you on. I enjoyed my time with you guys.”

Hoseok walked towards her and pushed some hair off her shoulder, “Well, do you want to continue that?”

“What?”

Jungkook took his shirt off and ruffled his hair, “Do you want us?”

“Excuse me?”

Namjoon rolled his eyes and pushed Hoseok away. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle smile, “We’re asking if you want all of us.”

She stared at him with a shocked look but looked around the room. They were all hot and it was clear they were attractive to her. I did want to do things that I would never do at home....

She glanced at Namjoon and did something that shocked everyone. She reached down and pulled her dress over her head, “It’s summer time. Why not make memories?”

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts hosoek #ot7 x reader #Bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic

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loveharlow · 7 months ago

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SEVEN [SEASON 2] - 002 (PART 2)

PAIRING ‧₊˚ JJ Maybank x Fem!Reader

SYNOPSIS‧₊˚[5.9k] Trying to lay-low in Kildare doesn't go over too well and just when things were looking up, it all comes crumbling down.

WARNING(S)‧₊˚ swearing, mentions of death, gun violence, mild animal cruelty, general angst

NOW PLAYING‧₊˚

A/N‧₊˚ if you didn't wanna report my blog from part 1, you're gonna want too after this also im posting this NOW because of the whole explicit blog situation🙄 i think we all deserve a little reward. THIS SONG IS ☺️🥹😖😫 "DID YOUUUUU TAAAAKE MY LOVVE AWAYY FROM MEEEEEE?"

˗ˏˋ series masterlist ˎˊ˗

IT TOOK ALMOST ALL NIGHT TO SAIL BACK TO KILDARE, the sun just rising once again when the six of you arrived at the edge of The Marsh at the crack of dawn. You were tired and starving, the guys and girls splitting off into two separate groups to go look for food.

You, Kie, and Sarah had found some watermelons just as the sun’s heat started to break through the Kildare clouds. You and Sarah were sitting in the grass while Kie took up the space on a metal bench, each of you munching on your respective melons, fingers stained pink.

Kiara was quick to urge Sarah to catch her up on what happened, the blonde girl spilling every detail about what happened from the moment John B and her disappeared.

“The boat tipped and I honestly thought that was it, I thought that was the end. Next thing I know, we’re waking up on a boat headed to The Bahamas…” She recounted. She told you everything, from finding the gold again at Ward’s vacation home to getting shot by Rafe, to…

“I’m sorry, you got married?” Kiara exclaimed, her eyes wide as her hand paused from where it was digging into the fruit. Sarah just had a sheepish smile on her face, chewing as she nodded.

“It’s not exactly legal, but…” She trailed off, throwing a chunk of the melon into her mouth and looking at both of you. “Yeah, we did.” She admitted, smiling and chuckling in Kie’s direction before she seemed to conjure up another thought. “And *gulp* Am I crazy, or is there something going on between you and Pope?” She spoke, mouth full of watermelon.

Kiara smiled and shrugged, avoiding eye contact with the Cameron girl. “Maybe...” She said, squinting her eyes as she looked out in front of her. “I’ve come to a couple of…realizations, recently, I guess.” She said under her breath, eyes peering at you for the shortest of moments, so swiftly that Sarah didn’t catch it and you barely did yourself.

“That’s not a no.” Sarah egged on, still eating. The three of you fell into silence for a few passing moments, the only sounds being the birds flying by and the chewing of fruit before Sarah spoke up once more, this time her questions aimed at you. “You okay? You’ve been kinda quiet.” She asked, her wide eyes peering at you.

You just shrugged, looking down at your lap as you spoke. “‘M fine. It’s all just a little surreal, y’know? Up until a couple of hours ago, I really thought you and John B were dead.” You said, building the courage to meet her eyes. “It’s honestly the biggest blessing that you guys aren’t but... a lot happened while you two were away. That’s all.” You assured her, sending her a tight-lipped smile and returning to eating.

“...It was really hard to find a a way to contact you guys. And we didn’t want to risk someone tipping off my dad or the police just yet. It’s gonna be a shit show when we get back to the island, that’s for sure.” Sarah scoffed, raking her fingers through her hair.

“...Sarah?” You piped up, the girl humming response. “It’s good to have you back.”

She smiled happily in response, her teeth showing as her cheeks reddened. “It’s good to be back.”

JOHN B DOCKED THE DRUTHERS TOO AT THE CHATEAU WITH LITTLE HESITATION, A familiar bundle of golden fur running towards him and jumping on him the second he was off the boat.

“Woah, hey, hey…” He cooed, petting Marley softly as she pawed at his thighs and torso.

“Sorry about that,” You said, shielding your eyes from the sun. “We’ve been crashin’ here since…” You trailed off, shrugging as John B looked up at The Chateau, jutting his bottom lip out and shrugging one shoulder.

“The place looks great, actually.” He said, directing his gaze to the grass, looking side to side. “The weeds are gone and there aren’t any beer cans in the grass.” He laughed out.

“That would be courtesy of me.” JJ bowed dramatically. “Mowed the lawn and threw in a little extra service.” John B rolled his eyes playfully and walked towards the entrance of the home, the five of you following behind him.

“Not to bring the mood down or anything but I’m not exactly looking forward to a check-in at home…” Kiara announced, walking at the very back of the group. “My parents have probably already arranged my funeral.”

“Same. I predict unpleasantries at the Heyward household after I left the truck in Charleston.” Pope cringed at the thought, holding the straps of his backpack.

“...No one knows we’re here, right?” JJ threw out, deep in thought judging from the look on his face. “And you two-” He pointed at Kiara and Pope. “-aren’t gonna get in anymore trouble for showing up twelve hours later. Am I right or am I right?”

“You’re not wrong…” Pope seemed to contemplate.

“So that means we have twelve hours to do whatever we want.” JJ smiled, clapping his hands together. “A little pogue fellowship, how does that sound? Let the shit hit the fan tomorrow.”

“The cops are looking for us. It just seems really stupid…” Sarah reminded, a look of worry on her features.

“Sarah Cameron,” JJ approached the girl sitting on the rail of The Chateau stairs. “You’ve heard of my philosophy, right?”

“No.”

“Stupid things have good outcomes all the time.” JJ spoke as you and John B mocked him, sending a smile in each other’s direction as you tried not to laugh. The blonde boy turned around, clapping his hands. “Who’s with me? Let’s go get some beer!”

KIARA HAD MANAGED TO STEAL SOME BEERS FROM THE WRECK, SEEMINGLY WITHOUT BEING NOTICED. By the time Sarah and JB had showered and JJ and Pope set up the lights and hot-tub, the sun had fallen again. The pit in your stomach had started to settle, allowing you to actually enjoy the fact that your friends were alive and well and back where they belonged. Although other events were still swirling in your mind and dampening your mood, you wouldn’t let it show.

The six of you crowded the hot-tub, shotgunning beers as music played faintly from a speaker plugged in near the porch. JJ and John B had some impromptu dance battle while Pope started freestyling out of nowhere, the remaining three of you watching it all like a comedy show from the comfort of the hot tub.

At some point , JJ rolled a joint that made it’s way through the group in record time. You currently had the object clutched between your fingers, laying on your back in the grass near the oak tree with Marley next to you as JJ and Pope wrestled in the grass.

“Single-leg sweep!” John B cheered, watching Pope pin JJ to the ground — JB, Sarah, and Kie sitting and watching around a bonfire.

Pope got up triumphantly, hands in the air as JJ got up and dusted himself off. He and JJ shook hands with lazy smiles on their faces before Pope snatched up his beach towel and turned around in the direction of The Marsh. “I’m done!” He called over his shoulder. “I’m outta here…”

“You want a round two?” JJ called in his direction, cupping his hands around his mouth.

Pope chuckled and waved him off without a glance back. “Yeah, I think I’ll take my losses.” The group’s attention was stolen by Kiara who grabbed her shirt from the lawn chair she was on, getting up and following Pope.

You just scoffed and took another hit of your joint, watching from a few feet away as Sarah’s jaw dropped while John B and JJ cheered. “Really?” Sarah exclaimed.

“Way to be discreet!” JJ called after the two.

“I leave and this is what happens.” John B sighed in mock disappointment, slapping his hands against his knees as he rose from his seat. “Your boy’s out.” He shook the red cup in his hand. “Beer time.” He told the two blondes before walking in your direction, your splayed figure going unnoticed in the dark of night as JB reached into the cooler to grab a fresh beer, his eyes landing on the art piece the four of you had engraved into the tree.

You watched as he slowly paused, his eyes glossing over as the boy attempted to suppress his emotions.

“You better cry.” You spoke up, speech mildly slurred from your tipsiness. “It took me two hours to carve your long ass name into that...big ass tree.” John B looked around startled for a moment before looking at down at you laid out in the grass like a snow angel. You smiled and waved lazily at your friend.

He rolled his eyes and laughed, cracking open the canned drink in his hand. “You scared the shit out of me, little weirdo.” He said, taking a small sip. “I forget you’re a lightweight. You need a water or somethin’?”

You simply pursed your lips and waved him off. “Pfft. I am fine. And I’ll have you know I am not drunk or high, just…thinking.” The Routledge boy cocked an eyebrow at you, JJ and Sarah’s mindless banter filling the silence. “I’m serious!” You chuckled out. “I’m not, I swear. I just needed some time to think for a little bit…”

“About?”

“...Are you kidding?” You asked incredulously, lifting yourself up to lean on one arm. “John B, you came back from the dead. And believe me, I am so glad that you and Sarah are back but I’m scared for you guys. Sooner or later, someone is gonna find out you guys are back on the island and when they do?…”

He simply nodded. “That's fair." He sighed. "We tried to get through to you guys for weeks before we were able to send that message.” You hummed in response before yawning. “And even though you haven’t said it yet, I missed you too.” He winked at you.

You flipped the boy off and plopped back down into the grass as the footsteps of someone else appeared.

“What’s happenin’ over here?” He asked cheerfully, slapping a hand on John B’s shoulder. He met your eyes but you looked away. You still didn’t want to talk to him.

John B looked between the two of you skeptically before letting whatever thought he had go, pointing at the tree in front of him. “This cute little art project.” He told the blonde, referring once more to the memorial carving. “Killed the tree, though.”

JJ laughed, bowing his head down. “Probably, yeah…” He said, sniffing before looking at JB. “I fuckin’ missed you, man.” He said seriously, pulling John B into a tight hug. They buried their heads into each other’s shoulder, embracing one another as tight as possible.

“Kind of lonely over here!” Sarah called out, the two boys releasing one another as she waved the three of you over. The slapped each other on the shoulder and began walking back over to the bonfire, you getting up and whistling for Marley to do the same, the golden retriever standing up slowly and shaking herself off before following you.

“Aww, look.” The blonde girl cooed from her place on a log, staring ahead as the three of you followed her gaze to find Kie and Pope sailing away on the HMS Pogue.

“There he goes.” JJ cheered, sending a thumbs up to the couple on the boat. “He jacked your boat, dude.” He said to John B.

“Pope’s poking on the Pogue.” He replied with little emotion, staring out like he couldn’t believe it while Sarah wolf-whistled in their direction. Through her cheering and whistling, you thought you heard something in the distance, prompting you to turn around with a look of confusion etched across your face.

“Hold on,” You spoke up, the remaining pogues attention turning to you. “Did any of you hear that?”

“The chickens?” JJ threw out a possible solution, you shook your head.

“No, I heard something. Like a car door shutting…” You said confidently, eyes trained on the trees in front of you trying to see through them.

After a few moments of squinting, you managed to make out two figures creeping through the bushes and if you weren’t mistaken, they were both armed. “...There’s people in the woods. They have guns.” You said, a hard expression settling on your face as you quickly took hold of Marley’s collar.

“Wha- are you sure?” Sarah asked panicked, standing up from the log she was perched on and edging closer to John B.

“Yes, I’m sure.” You replied quickly. “Hide. Hide somewhere, anywhere but in the house.” You instructed, the three of them just staring blankly at one another. You looked at them stupidly, snapping your fingers to gain their attention. “Hello? Earth to Powerpuff Girls? Unless your wanna play bullet-tag with the strangers in the woods, I suggest you hide!” You whisper-shouted, guiding Marley into the chicken coop by her collar as your three friends seemed to silently decide on hiding in the large oak tree, not before John B put out the bonfire and followed JJ and Sarah who were scattering and climbing up the trunk of the tree one by one.

There was more than enough space for you to hide Marley in the coop, pushing her inside as quietly as possible as she started to whine lowly. You brought a finger to your lips, shushing the animal as you gently pet the top of her head. “It’s okay.” You assured, pushing her a little further in as the sound of leaves ruffling got closer. “Just sit and stay. Okay?” You instructed as you stood up and made a b-line for the tree, climbing up as quickly and quietly as possible, taking the hand that was offered to you and planting yourself on top of one of the thick branches.

Through the leaves and branches, you saw the two figures emerge into the lights of the backyard.

It was no one other than Rafe and Barry.

There was no way they found out about Sarah and John B that fast.

Barry crept up the side steps to the front door, gun held in front of him as Rafe wandered through the backyard, right under your noses. He stopped in front of the freshly blown out bonfire as Barry threw open the door to The Chateau, creeping inside.

“Where the hell are you?...” Rafe asked mainly to himself, eyes wandering from the smoking wooden planks. Just then, the sound of glass breaking came from inside the house, followed by the sound of Barry groaning in frustration just before the man in question came barrelling out of The Chateau.

“Ain’t shit in there!” He shouted, jogging down the small staircase.

“Nothing?” Rafe asked, his tone calm in contrast to the drug dealer’s.

“No, nothing, Rafe.” Barry spat. It seemed as if Barry’s frustration began to rub off on the Cameron boy.

“They were obviously just here based off the smoke, man.” Rafe reprimanded, voice raising slightly as he threw a hand out in the direction of the smoking pit.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah…” Barry ignored him. “Great observation, Boy Scout.”

“They gotta be around here somewhere...” Rafe reminded, Barry rolling his eyes and began kicking things around in the yard as Rafe turned around, staring viciously at the length of the tree.

“P.4.L.” Barry mocked the words carved into the wood, Rafe looking back and laughing with the man, the gun in his hand pointed directly at the carving.

“Well, shit…” The Cameron boy chuckled breathily.

“So, your sister’s a ‘Pogue For Life’ now, huh?” Barry taunted, watching as the lazy smile on Rafe’s face dropped as he looked back at the tree. His eyes started twitching as he gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his nostrils flaring out too. You were no stranger to that look on his face — he was losing it…

“...Shit!” He hollered like a madman, the loud reverberation of his voice causing you and Sarah to flinch violently. Even Barry flinched behind the boy. Within seconds, Rafe had cocked the gun back and fired off several shots, the four of you ducking behind the branches as bullets flew. Barry, who tried to take the gun from his hand, ended up forcing the guns aim upwards, the four of you just narrowly missing being shot.

“Rafe, chill!” Barry scolded, snatching the gun from the boy’s hands. “You gon' get our asses busted!”

The silence that occurred after Barry’s warning was what allowed the duo to hear a faint whine coming from somewhere in the yard. Your hands clawed at the wood of the tree, your nails splintering under the force.

You prayed they would ignore it. That they would leave her alone.

But you knew that wasn’t going to happen the second Rafe rotated his whole body in the direction of the chicken coop, his face twisting as he walked towards it. Bending down in front of the small opening, he scoffed, running a hand down his face.

“Would you look at that?” He laughed, eyeing Barry before looking inside of the coop once more. The whining never stopped. “They left the damn dog.” He told him, voice raspy. He snapped his fingers and whistled, trying to get Marley to obey. “C’mere girl.” He tried, but she wouldn’t budge.

“The fuck…just leave it, man. What the hell you gon do with a dog?” Barry tried, annoyed at this point.

For what it was worth, your dog had a very good judgment of character. But you guessed that trait didn’t make Rafe too happy. It was like something in him snapped, shooting a hand out and grabbing Marley by the collar, dragging her out the pen when she wouldn’t listen.

She whined and barked, trying her best to resist his pull as her paws slid across the dirt.

“No, no, no…” You muttered under your breath, moving to climb down the tree when a forceful hand wrapped itself around your arm, your eyes meeting JJ’s. “Let go. What are you-”

“You can’t go down there, are you crazy. He will hurt you.” JJ told you seriously, his eyebrows setting into a straight line.

“The hell I can’t.” You spat back, trying to wiggle your arm out his grip to no avail. “If I don't go down there, he’s gonna hurt her.” You told the blonde in hushed tone. You hated how shaky and sad your voice sounded.

“We’ll get her back.” He told you, his grip tightening lightly in reassurance. “I promise you.” You shook your head at his words, swallowing harshly as your teary gaze went back to where Rafe was manhandling Marley. She wouldn’t stop crying out and it broke your heart.

“Jesus, you gon have to get a muzzle for that bitch.” Barry groaned. “And what you gon do when daddy asks where the mutt came from, huh, Country Club? ‘Cause you already know Snoozie’s gonna be looking up and down the island for her, missin’ posters ‘n shit gon be up before you make it back to Figure Eight.”

Rafe just licked his lips, positioned slightly bent down to keep a good grip on your dog. “Trust me, she knows where she is. They’re here, I know that for a fact.” He told Barry, his eyes wandering the seemingly empty yard. “You want your dog back?!” He shouted out into the empty yard space. “Looks like you're gonna have to put on your big girl pants and come and get her!”

That was the last thing you all heard before the two men were leaving, dragging a hysterical Marley behind them. Most dogs would bite when threatened. But Marley wasn’t a violent dog. That was one of the many things you loved about her. But in this moment you hated it.

BY THE TIME KIARA AND POPE HAD RETURNED WITH THE BOAT THE FOUR OF YOU NEEDED TO LEAVE, THE SUN HAD RISEN SIGNALING A NEW DAY. You were all silently petrified and hadn’t said more than five words in the last, what you guessed was, six hours or so. JJ perked up when he spotted his two friends in the small boat, slinging his backpack up on his shoulder and heading towards the two as the remaining three of you followed silently.

“Yo, don’t tie up yet!” He called out, skipping down the pier just as Pope was about to tie up the boat.

“What?” Kiara replied back, squinting her eyes from the sun.

“We’re dippin'.” The blonde told the girl, jogging towards the boat and coming to a stop in front of the two, throwing his bag into the boat.

“Wait, why?” Pope piped up.

“We gotta get the hell outta here.” John B said urgently, getting into the boat right after JJ, you helping Sarah down into the vehicle as JB held a hand out for her, the girl still limping mildly due to her injury.

“Rafe knows we’re here so we have to leave, like, now.” She panted out, sitting down in the boat as you climbed in after her, not saying a word.

“Okay, okay…” Pope spoke absentmindedly, hurrying to un-tie the portion of the rope he did secure, tossing it into the boat. “Wait, what about the dog? Where’s Marley?” Sarah, John B, and JJ all looked at each other then at you, prompting Kie and Pope to share a look before doing the same.

“...We’ll explain everything later.” John B threw out, caressing Sarah’s back. You didn’t protest or say anything, you were too angry to do anything. The pair of them glanced at you once more before getting into the boat themselves.

“We’ll sail a few miles out, find somewhere to camp out for a bit.” Pope announced, getting behind the wheel and starting the engine. "Then, you have to tell us what the hell is going on."

“LOOK, IF RAFE AND BARRY KNOW, IT’S ONLY A MATTER OF TIME BEFORE EVERYONE KNOWS.” John B started, hands on his head as he paced back in forth in the grass. The group had found an empty clearing a few miles away from The Chateau, an open field near The Marsh.

JJ scoffed, shaking his head. “I told you. We should’ve gone south, man.” He added. “Why does no one ever listen?”

The rest of you sat in the grass not talking. You were sitting criss-crossed, plucking individual strands of grass.

“...I have an idea.” Sarah croaked, swallowing harshly as she stared down at her shoes. “With me back, my dad’s going to have to choose between me and Rafe.” You paused in your grass plucking, peering up at the girl.

“Sarah-” John B started only to be cut off.

“He’s gonna choose me.” She said confidently, looking at John B.

“Just please listen.” Her boyfriend pleaded, holding a hand out in her direction to let him speak. “Ward keeps lying to you, Sarah.”

“No,I…I know it sounds crazy-”

“Yeah, it does.” Kiara told her bluntly.

“I know.” Sarah defended herself, biting her bottom lip and looking around at the five of you. “But he’s my dad. And I know him, and I know he loves me.” She pleaded with the group, rubbing her hands nervously against her thighs. “I’m just asking for two hours.” She concluded, eyes wide and begging for you all to understand.

You simply shook your head, looking out at the water in front of you. If Sarah believed that her father would choose her, who were you to disagree? You had your doubts but you kept them quiet. If you learned anything in the past month or so, it’s that you have to let people see who others really are for themselves, otherwise they'll never believe it.

Without any more objections, Sarah tucked her hair behind her ears and stood up, looking at the group of you one last time before walking off.

SARAH HAD BEEN GONE FOR NEARLY AN HOUR, THE FIVE OF YOU WANDERING OFF AWAY FROM ONE ANOTHER. Pope and John B were at the edge of water talking, Kiara was laying in the grass plucking flowers, and you were leaning on a nearby tree.

You got the urge to look up from where you were digging the toe of your shoe into the dirt when the sunlight was no longer beaming on you, coming face to face with possibly one of the last people you wanted to talk to.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “What part of leave me alone do you not understand?”

The blonde scratched the back of his head, looking side to side before shoving his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “Look, I don’t know what I did to make you this mad at me. And even though I would really like to know and won’t stop bothering you until I find out, I promise I didn’t come over here to press you about it right now.”

“Then what are you over here for?”

“I wanted to make sure you were doing okay.” He said, eyes roaming your face as you looked away for a brief second. “You may hate my guts right now but we’re still pogues. And you know how I feel about you...” His voice lowered to a whisper as he leaned in closer. "That doesn't change just because you're pissed at me."

“I don’t hate you.” You didn’t mean to say it. You planned to let him talk to himself while you didn’t respond but something about JJ thinking you hated him really made your stomach turn. Sure, you felt betrayed and led on, but you didn’t hate him. You don't think you ever could.

It would take forces between the heavens and the earth before you would ever even come close to hating JJ.

“...And no. I’m not okay.” You said bluntly, straightening your posture. “I am angrier than I have ever been in my entire life and I can’t do shit about it, JJ.” You groaned, rubbing the back of your neck. “I don’t have any parental figure left, some psychopathic rapist who has an obsession with trying to ruin our lives just kidnapped my fucking dog, my best friend just came back from the dead and the only evidence we have to clear his name and keep him out of jail for a crime he didn’t even commit is being withheld by some batshit crazy woman who lives on a former slave plantation and has a live-in bodyguard, and you...” You ranted all in one breath, stopping yourself right before you went too far.

JJ just nodded, rolling his lips in on themselves as he gave you a moment to collect yourself and catch your breath before speaking. “Yeah…yeah, that about covers it.” He said, the unhelpful statement causing you to roll your eyes. You don’t know if you purposefully left out the part about him and Kie or if it was a subconscious thing. You figured that would’ve been the best time, if any, to bring it up. But it also seemed like the most miniscule on your list of problems at the moment.

“Well…what about the box?”

“The what?” You said exhaustedly, squinting your eyes as he shifted his weight, allowing the sun to beam on your face. You were too blinded by the golden ray of light to notice how the blonde got distracted by you — the way the sun illuminated everything about you. It made the naturally lighter pieces of your hair more visible, it made your eyes a shade brighter, made your eyelashes more visible, and casted a heavenly glow across your skin. Deep down, he really wanted to get to the bottom of whatever he did to put you off from him this badly because the idea of having you in his life as more than a best friend was looking more appealing every second he looked at you.

Snapping himself out of it, he replied. “The, uh, the box of shit you stole from your mom’s office? That’s, like, hardcore evidence, right?” You pondered on the boy’s statement for a moment. It wasn’t like you’d forgotten about the evidence, it crossed your mind ever since John B’s text came through. But your biggest problem was Shoupe — you didn’t trust him. And you weren't sure if a couple of tapes would be any help.

“Ward has Shoupe and the entire Sheriff’s Department wrapped around his finger. If I hand over the only evidence we have and Shoupe chooses Ward over his oath as an officer, we lose everything.”

“But you don’t think it’s worth the risk if it can clear Bree?” He cocked an eyebrow, clearly questioning your judgment.

You bit your lip in contemplation, shaking your head. “...I’ll sort through everything and see what we can possibly bring to Shoupe. If things go south with JB and this whole key that Pope keeps talking about, I turn it all over to the police. Deal?”

JJ nodded his head, glancing back at his two friends at the edge of the water. “Deal.”

“In the meantime?” You threw out, pushing yourself off of the tree and adjusting yourself. “I’m gonna figure out how to get my damn dog back.” Just then, you saw the HMS Pogue coming towards the shore, Sarah perched on the edge.

The five of you stood up, approaching the edge of the water and watching as the girl let the engine die and the boat come to a halt. The guys moved forward to pull the boat up onto the sand, the girl taking the hand John B offered to assist her out of the boat.

“So, how’d it go?” He asked, hair blowing in the wind as you all crowded each other. Sarah looked to her feet, shaking her head.

“You guys were right.” She sniffled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “It didn’t work.”

Everyone nodded despondently, expecting nothing more or less but still disappointed by the outcome. Despite you and JJ’s separate conversation, the pogues weren’t completely aware of the evidence you were holding onto. You figured they'd forgotten. You didn’t want John B and Sarah to have run again, but you needed some time to get what you needed to at least attempt to clear their names without backfire.

“We still have one more opt-”

“What’s that?” Kiara interrupted you, looking petrified at the water ahead of her. You all followed her gaze, finding a fleet of boats with flashing lights sailing directly towards the six of you.

“How’d the cops find us?” Pope added, taking a weary step back as the boats got closer.

“They must’ve followed you here.” John B told his girlfriend. “It had to have been Ward.” He spoke rather calmly.

“Stay on the beach with your hands in the air!” One of the officers commanded through a megaphone. But since when were any of you known to follow rules?

A shared look amongst the group had you all bolting in the opposite direction within seconds, almost tripping over one another in the process. Running on sand was a harder task than you ever imagined, the ground feeling as if it was slipping underneath your feet.

One quick glance behind you and the officers were hopping off their boats, chasing after you all. Your shoes were submerged when you had to run through a shallow bank of salt water to get to the other side of the beach, hoping the trees would hide you.

Sarah started to slow down, the running causing a strain on her side. John B was quick to scoop her up, throwing an arm around her torso and slinging one of her own over his shoulders. Tree branches and bushes nipped at your calves but you paid no mind to it.

You could hear the heavy footsteps and radio chatter of the officers behind you all, scattered in the woods, trying to find you all from any and every angle. Reaching the edge of a pond surrounded by weeds, you all let John B help Sarah in first before following, the water going above your knees.

The further in you waded, the deeper it got until you all had to literally swim across the body of water, Sarah at the tail end of the group. The murky water splashed into your mouth and in your eyes but you kept going.

The sound of splashing and yelling behind you signaled that you’d been spotted just as you reached the other side, you being the first one out of the water. With no where else to go, you all hid behind the largest tree in sight, the object able to conceal the half dozen of you.

Sirens blared in the distance, your heads snapping behind you to find two police cars flying down the dirt road.

“We’re trapped.” Pope panted, crouching behind the tree. “They got us surrounded. What do we do?”

“We’re not getting out of this.” JJ said, blonde strands soaked, his shirt sticking to his body as he rang out a bandana. “We gotta make a stand.” Pulling the infamous gun from his waistband and wiping it off. You looked at him crazy, snatching the object from his hand before he had a chance to react. Your own hair was sticking to your face, the damp feeling of your clothes making you uncomfy,

“That’s the complete opposite of solving the problem.” You told him as he absentmindedly reached for the weapon. You held it out of his reach, oblivious to John B watching the entire interaction occur.

He was grateful that he had friends willing to get into this kind of trouble for him. But his heart wouldn’t allow any of you to go down with him. Unbeknownst to you, JB had climbed down from the tree, taking hold of your wrist of the arm that held the gun.

Your eyes met his as he slowly took the weapon from your grasp, letting it fall to the ground. Your eyebrows furrowed as he looked at each and every one of you with the most detached look on his face. Smiling at you all, he spoke.

“It’s gonna be all right.” He choked out, gently letting your wrist fall. It was then that you knew — he was surrendering. He took slow, backwards steps away from you all kicking a pile of dirt and leaves over the gun to conceal it.

Just then, Shoupe arrived, wasting no time in drawing his gun in your friend’s direction. “John B! Step out into the clearing!” He hollered, officers surrounding you all from every direction and every single one of them armed.

“I’m surrendering!” He told the man, hands in the air.

“Aye, the rest of y’all stay right where ya are, keep your hands where I can see 'em.” Shoupe told the five of you behind JB, all of your hands going in the air slowly.

“Hey, listen Shoupe, I wanna testify!” John B cut in, eyes red and teary.

“It’s ‘bout time.” The man said, approaching the boy with two officers trailing behind him. All three of them pointing pistols at you all. “Get down, do not move a muscle. Everybody else, don’t move!”

Shoupe directed one of his deputies to detain John B, the man storming over as he holstered his weapon. He pat JB down quickly before snatching the boy up into a chokehold, clearly out of anger and not protocol.

“Are you serious?!” JJ was the first to call out, voice echoing throughout the woods.

“Hey, what the fuck?!” You shouted yourself, taking one small step forward but the female officer that chased the car a month ago, Deputy Plumb, was quick to stop you, pointing her pistol right in between your eyes.

“Stay where you are!” She instructed firmly, her eyebrows setting into a fine line.

You and your friends were forced to watch as the officer arresting John B, who Shoupe referred to as Deputy Thomas, slammed your friend onto his back into the grass and beat on him. You were all shouting and screaming but anytime you took a step, there was officer in your face with a fully loaded pistol or an assault rifle. And these people looked too trigger happy to be arresting a teenager.

Shoupe finally stepped in when Thomas had John B by the collar of his shirt. The man in charge attempted to pull his deranged officer off of your friend but he was pushed back as the man faced John B once more, nostrils flared as he held the boy mid-air.

“...This is for Peterkin.”

And with an uppercut, John B was out cold.

next chapter>

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loveshotzz · 1 year ago

Text

All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap six/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs - updated every wednesday

I Don’t Know You, But I Want To

summary: Sometimes curiosity has consequences.

wc: 2.8k

warnings: 18+ series for future chapters, mentions of death, hints on how Steve’s wife died, bouts of self consciousnesses.

authors note: sorry guys, you knew this chapter had to happen. i promise i’ll make up for it! enjoy a few more easter eggs from @carolmunson ‘s orange colored sky in here. I’ve had so much fun talking about these two old men’s friendship with you!

🌇 <- chapter five -> chapter seven

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

End of June

You didn’t realize when Steve asked you to water his plants, that he meant in just three short days after the almost kiss in his kitchen. The opposite schedules the two of you seem to always work made it so you hardly got a glimpse of him before he and Bandit disappeared to Starved Rock for what you learned was their annual camping trip.

The Good Morning Tough Girl texts started the next day after your number exchange, waking you up with a kaleidoscope of butterflies twisting and turning in your stomach and a smile so big it made your cheeks hurt. It helped you get over only getting to physically see him one time through your living room window before he left. Your phone had vibrated at your feet while you watered your now flourishing Ivy thanks to the new curtains you were proud to say were installed by yourself. You chanced a glance down at your lit up screen, his name flashing with a text that said: How’d I never realize how pretty my view is from the front yard?

The corners of your mouth twitched, flames licking underneath your cheeks when your eyes caught his out your window. The big dopey smile that took over his face made you giggle as he waved eagerly, dressed nice like he had been the morning you ran into him last week. You wiggled your fingers, biting your bottom lip at the way his dark navy button up looked tucked into the waist of his black slacks. The leather belt looked nicer than the last one, the silver of the buckle blinding in the setting sun. His hair was freshly done, free of any signs of those big hands of his. The stubble on his jaw was gone again, but you learned that was never for very long.

Another buzz: Going to dinner with a client, wish it was fish tacos with you instead.

Steve feels like he won the lottery when he can see the way your face lights up from his spot in his front yard. Eddie’s voice rings loudly inside his head, sticking to every single one of his negative thoughts like glue telling him it’s okay and he finally starts to believe it, especially when he gets a text back from you.

Maybe next time 😉

It’s thunderstorming the day you go over, the key tucked away in a lockbox by his door. He gave you access by texting the code the night before with a promise to take you to dinner as a thank you when he got back. The nerves that dance inside you feel like they did the first time you came here when you stand in front of the stained glass of his front door even though he’s five hours away.

It’s quiet, the lively energy from a few nights ago gone with the man. The cedar of his candle still lingers thick in the air and you can’t help but inhale deeply. It smells like him. You leave your shoes and umbrella on his front porch, closing the door gently like you were scared to wake someone up. The pattering of the rain on his windows fills the silence, your shoulders dropping in the serenity. Pulling your phone from your back pocket you look through your texts with the list of the rooms the plants were in.

Only three — his office and living room on the first floor and his bedroom on the second.

The coffee white oak floors creak under your socked feet as you take your first apprehensive steps past the entryway. He left the watering can on the kitchen island just like he said he would, your skin pebbles when you’re brought back to the last time you were in here. The sun fights to shine through the thick storm clouds outside, making the lighting that bleeds through his windows soften everything up. The water from the sink hits the metal of the can, mixing perfectly with the rain.

You wish he was here.

The can is heavy in your hands when you stop at the doorway of the living room, the contents inside sloshing around and daring to spill onto his floor. You curse under your breath with a pause to take in the room you only got a glimpse of before. There’s an electric fireplace, tall black steel that takes up most of the wall next to the sliding glass door that leads to his small backyard.

Two large beige area rugs cover most of the wood floors in here, a cream frayed trim lining them. Bandit’s bed sits big, fluffy and dark brown nestled by the fireplace, giving him a perfect view out the window. Strands of his lighter hairs leave behind evidence that this might be his favorite spot in the house. A woven basket filled with various chew toys that look freshly tossed in isn’t very far from it. The rain comes down harder but you can still see the spots of lime green littering the grass where the rambunctious German shepherd left his tennis balls. Spoiled.

The cognac color of his leather couch set is rich, and it shines even in the dim lighting like it was freshly lotioned. It looks like the kind of comfortable where the cushions mold against the weight of your body - soft, inviting, the one in the middle looking a little more worn in than the rest. This must be Steve’s favorite spot.

Your eyes meet the 65” TV mounted to the wall in front of it and realize why. The coffee table matches the dark color of the floors. The candle that was the culprit for the smell of his house sitting in the middle next to three remotes lined perfectly next to each other.

There’s a long, taller companion table that sits at the other doorway that leads back out to the landing of his staircase. Framed pictures, bottles of various liquors of all shades and crystal cocktail glasses cover the top of it.

What does he think of your place?

You try to push the intrusive thought down as you make your way to the lush Monstera plant that sits in a white pot on top of wooden legs next to the sliding glass door. Its leaves hang heavy, clearly taken care of. The deep emerald of it reminds you of what Steve’s eyes look like sometimes. The soil takes what you give it greedily, barely leaving enough for the few smaller plants that rest on shadow shelves along his gray walls. A few of them make you stand on your tiptoes to reach.

Curiosity wins on your way to refill the can, crossing the room to look at the framed pictures. You aren’t surprised when you see one of Eddie and Bandit as a puppy, it looks like the first day they brought him home. Eddie’s dimples show in a bright smile as he looks at the camera with Bandit’s big bubble gum pink tongue pressed sloppily against a clean shaven cheek.

The other is of Steve and a curly haired boy at a college graduation, they both look like they were caught in the middle of laughing at something. You can’t help your own smile when you look at it. Steve looks a little younger, a little less gray in his hair like it had only just started. He’s wearing wire rim glasses, and that crisp white dress shirt you like him in so much. He looks happy.

The last one is of Steve and Bandit. A selfie taken at sunrise, Bandits tongue sticks out and you swear he’s smiling just like his handsome owner that has him pulled against his side. A part of a tent peaks over his shoulder and you wonder if this is where they’re at right now.

You’re hit with the smell of his cologne when you open his office door, your thighs pressing together when you imagine him sitting in the big black leather chair behind an even bigger, matching colored desk. Glass cased baseball memorabilia takes space on one of his walls, along with plaques of achievements from his job. There’s framed pictures of him shaking hands of baseball players you couldn’t name, but you’re sure a normal person who liked sports could. There’s a tall bookshelf on the other side of the room. The spines all glossed, bright bold wording of sports memoir’s, marketing guides, and what looks like college course advertising books.

The floor of this room is carpeted with the same color as the area rugs in his living room. Your footsteps are a little more careful as you try not to spill any water on it as you make your way to the three hanging spider plants in the window that overlooks his front yard.

Your nose catches a hint of the cigars you know he smokes as you get closer to his desk. He must keep them in here. A silver closed MacBook sits on top of it, another baseball — only this one is signed and kept safe in a glass case. There's a Polaroid of Bandit with a cubs hat on his head with a laughing Peach barely visible behind him. The obvious closeness of the three of them makes you realize how much he let you into his world the other night.

A world where he wanted to kiss you.

You curse under your breath when you almost spill water on the carpet, too lost in realization of what this could be.

When you reach your final destination on the second floor, you stop at his closed door. Your hand hovers over the knob, heart hammering so hard in your chest like he was waiting for you on the other side. Taking a deep breath through your nose, you exhale through your lips - willing your nerves to give you mercy. There’s a soft click when you turn the knob and the quietest noise from the hinges when you push it open.

The crisp white of his fluffy duvet that covers his king size bed, mutes the gray of his walls. The olive green throw at the end of it that matches the area rug under the bed, the warmth of the color relaxes your senses. Your breathing evens out, your heart rate slows down.

There’s another dog bed at the foot of his that matches the one downstairs and you wonder how often Bandit really sleeps in this one at night. The lack of hair on it compared to the other one tells you not very often. Your cheeks tingle fiercely when you see the mirror you got a glimpse of his bare chest through, your eyes quickly finding the bathroom he had come out of.

“Jesus Christ,” you grumble to yourself, trying to push back the memory while standing alone in his bedroom.

There’s another Monstera by his window that you can see your bedroom out of. The last one on the list. You have to pass by another large dresser on your way, even more pictures sit on top of it, taking up the space that was left next to a cherry wood watch box. Another cedar candle sits behind the framed pictures, the scent lingering in the air despite not being lit.

The plants take what’s left in the watering can, and you peek out the window just to see what he sees. The navy curtains you’d hung up are half open giving you a perfect glimpse into your room, the pile of dirty laundry you plan to do after this perfectly visible. You gulp audibly.

The can swings loosely in your hand when you walk to the dresser, a smirk already forming on your lips at the thought of what these ones will tell you about him. Your eyes land on one of him in between Eddie and Peach on what seems to be their wedding day, both of them placing sloppy kisses on either cheek. The big dopey grin face doesn’t hide the tear stains. The White Chapel sign behind them tells you it’s Vegas, and the way Steve is dressed as a much sexier Elvis only confirms your suspicions.

Next to that one is a picture of Steve, only he looks really young- fresh out of high school young. Biting your lip into a smile at the volume of his hair, he’s leaning against a maroon BMW with pants so tight you're sure they made all the girls flustered. You shake your head with a roll of your eyes before taking in the brown curly haired girl sticking her head out of the back seat window. Another girl with honey waves pushing her head out in the small space next to her, you swear you can hear the giggles that are so evident on their faces.

Thunder cracks loudly outside, bringing you back with a jump. You’re dreading the short walk home. You glance out the window wearily before bringing your attention back to the little bit of Steve scattered over the top of his dresser. Then you see it. You see her.

The frame that holds the picture is silver, the words ‘always and forever’ etched across the bottom. It’s taken somewhere tropical and Steve looks like he’s your age in it, his jaw somehow sharper, his hair blonder. His smile is so big it shows all of his teeth, a bright yellow short sleeve button up that makes his skin look golden. The top two buttons undone revealing the chest hair you’d gotten a few glimpses of. He’s glowing.

She’s just as beautiful, big bright green eyes and dark chestnut hair that falls in effortless curls down to her chest. They look natural, like she didn’t have to do it herself. She’s tucked into his side in what looks like seats in the back of a boat, the coral dress that flows over the curves of her body makes your stomach turn. The big rock on her hand rested purposefully on his chest tells you exactly what this picture is.

Jealousy twists green in a tight knot inside of you, guilt you weren’t expecting makes you feel nauseous when you see what’s hanging off the corner of the frame. A dark teal rubber bracelet with the words Team ALS Chicago 2022 in white font.

Lightning flashes white hot, making something gleam and catch in the corner of your eye from his watch box. Taking a closer look, the tightening of your chest at what you find makes the air leave your lungs all at once when you see their wedding rings tucked in between the soft white cushions inside the box.

The reality of the situation hits you like a ton of bricks. Steve had a whole life before he met you. A life with someone beautiful, someone he didn’t fall out of love with, someone who didn’t break his heart, someone who, if things were different he’d still be with.

If you moved next door in that reality, you’d just be someone he’d maybe wave to from time to time, not paying any mind to the thirty year old girl already suffering through a midlife crisis next door. The girl who moved to the city with no friends and no plan. The college drop out. The opposite of the well put together woman that belonged hanging off his chest like that, with a ring on her finger that could pay off your credit card debt and then some.

How can you compete with a ghost? The nagging feeling that you’ll always be second best already stings and he hasn’t even picked you yet.

You try to blink away the tears that threaten to spill out, feeling stupid for being this upset over what started off as a silly crush, it really shouldn’t hurt this much. The cedar that comforted you feels like it's suffocating now. Like he’s here. The thought of bringing the watering can down doesn’t even cross your mind when you leave it on the dresser to make your escape.

The breath that comes out through trembling lips is shaky, still, you're proud of the fact that you haven’t cried yet.

Tough girl.

When you open the front door, it's windier than when you first got here, the sun starting its disappearing act for the moon. It makes the summer storm match the one brewing inside of you. You shove your feet into your shoes before pulling the door shut behind you. You lock the key back into the box, before grabbing your umbrella. Your vision goes blurry but you don’t give into it, telling yourself it’s stupid to be so upset. The buzz of your phone in your back pocket is what stops you from taking the first step off his porch.

Steve

Found a spot with some service on our hike, just wanted to check in. Hope you got into the house okay. Bandit says he misses you.

The dam that you’d worked so hard to build breaks, tears falling down your face like the rain falling from the sky. You sniffle, wiping your cheeks with the back of your hand before you reply to him for what you tell yourself is the last time. It’ll hurt less like this, it’s better for both of you this way. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself before you hit send.

Plants are watered 👍

beta’d by: @superblysubpar

dividers by @newlips

chapter seven

#my writing #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington series #steve harrington slow burn #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfic #older!steve harrington #older!steve #all i really want is you series #Spotify

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justhereforxreaders · 5 months ago

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The Prince and the Dragon Rider - Part Two: Tempest

Jacaerys Velaryon x dragon rider!reader

Summary: Princess Rhaenyra leads you across the fortress of Dragonstone to reunite with your dragon but the journey becomes more complicated as the night goes on.

Warnings: mentions of blood

soundtrack

part one: the oath

part three: the dawn

part four: the test

part five: precipice

part six: pieces and players

part seven: the rift

The night you left the Pentosi coast, you had no idea what kind of life waited for you across the Narrow Sea but you knew it would be far better than the one you were leaving behind.

More than half of your lifetime and the whole of your dragon's had been spent on the run or hidden away in seaside caves. The known world held many dangers especially for a child. You learned far too quickly however, that your greatest danger was starvation. With no coin to your name and little strength to hunt, you were forced to travel along the coast, learning to fish for both you and your dragon. She had acquired such a taste for fish that even after she had taken flight, she still favored fish over livestock, choosing to scavenge upon fishing vessels.

Once she had grown too large to poach stealthily, she learned to dive below the water for larger prey, hunting what was drawn in by those same fishing boats. Even with this new hunting strategy, sightings of her dark shape beneath the surface could not be avoided, causing the two of you to travel with constant caution and haste.

When the cliffs of Dragonstone first became visible on the horizon, the setting sun was disappearing behind it, making it glow orange. After a full days ride over the sea, you had assumed it was another stop on your journey. Until you saw the dragons flying overhead.

Just their silhouettes upon the darkening sky was enough cause for alarm but your dragon showed no sign of distress at the appearance of her kin. She merely dove down to fly just above the dark waves. Her black scales with sporadic streaks of white were the perfect camouflage for the choppy twilight sea. After circling the island and exploring various coves, she landed in the water, you still clinging to her neck. She gave you a quick moment to prepare a deep breath before diving below the surface.

The salt water stung your eyes as you tried to track where she was taking you but with the sunlight quickly fading, there was no hope of distinguishing your surroundings. Giving up the vain effort, you closed your eyes tight, pressing your face to the back of her head to help you concentrate on holding your breath. Just as you were about to reach your limit, she breaks the surface of a pool within a large cavern. You gasp for air and she swims to the rocky ledge of your new home.

You now find yourself on the polar opposite of your cave; sitting on a plush bed, being served hot food, within the walls of the castle of Dragonstone. Even before setting out west from Asshai, nothing you had ever experienced was as luxurious as these modest commodities.

As you take one last bite of your meal, Princess Rhaenyra stands from her seat at the window and walks towards you.

"Are you ready to go?" She says with the slightest hint of annoyance.

The Princess had offered to take you to the dragonmont to reunite with your dragon after showing you to your chambers within the servants quarters. Though she began to mirror a similar level of exhaustion as your own, she insisted on escorting you herself, seeming very intent on laying eyes on your dragon.

You nod, mouth still full of food, and rise to meet her at the door.

Due to the lateness of the hour, the walk to the dragonmont is mostly silent. Footsteps on stone and the crackle of the torches held by the two kingsguard that escort you are the only sounds that fill the air. When your party approaches the massive doors carved into the mountain, you are met by a trio of people dressed in simple robes that block the path forward.

The Princess exchanges words with the leader of the three in that same foreign tongue as in the throne room. Though the words are completely indecipherable to you, their tone gives you cause to shuffle awkwardly. Both participants gesture towards you throughout the conversation, only furthering your discomfort. They thankfully come to some agreement and move aside for you to enter. All three robed figures watch you pass by with scrutiny before returning to their posts guarding the entrance.

Lacking the courage to endure another unfriendly face, you drop your head, lifting your gaze only enough to follow the hem of the Princess's gown that just barely grazes the ground behind her. It isn't until you pass through an archway and the temperature suddenly drops that you look up to see you have entered a large cave with a platform jutting out into the darkness. The lightning outside can be seen through a large opening to the far left of the platform. It is only after a bright flash from the storm that a dark shape is illuminated at the end of the stone formation.

The kingsguard draw their blades but Rhaenyra orders them to stand down. After her command echoes throughout the vast cavern, a voice calls out from the edge.

"Mother?" It asks, before uttering, "Dracarys."

You are relieved to find familiar sight of Vermax's green scales shimmering by the firelight he emits up into the empty air above. And just below the young green dragon, now fully illuminated by his fire, stands his rider. You take an involuntary step in the Prince's direction but are quickly stopped in your tracks by the authoritative voice of Rhaenyra.

"Jacaerys!" The Princess scolds, "What are you doing here?!"

Vermax takes flight from the ledge and retreats into the abyss while Jace makes his way towards the torch light. Once his is a few short paces away, he takes notice of your face and lets out a quiet gasp before sprinting to your side. When within arms reach, he moves seemingly to embrace you but becomes aware of the curious eyes that surround the two of you. He quickly adjusts his arm to place it on your shoulder instead.

"I am glad to see you," he gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze and leans down ever so slightly to make eye contact with you. His eyebrows knit together and his face becomes serious, trying to communicate a question you can’t quite perceive before he continues, "What are you doing here?"

Inadvertently repeating the same question his mother just asked of him. She steps toward the two of you to repeat her inquiry once more but you speak before she can form the words.

"We were told Tempest was here," your voice now heavy with dread.

"She was," Jace says quickly, trying to soothe your worry, "just briefly but she was here and did not appear to be injured."

"Where has she gone?" The Princess interjects.

Jace tears his gaze from you to answer his mother but his hand lingers on your shoulder.

"I don't know. She left in quite a hurry though so l assumed she went back..." he trails off, turning back to you, unsure of how much you have revealed to his mother. You nod, encouraging him to continue. "I think she went back to their cave to look for y/n."

"How far away are we from the stairs?" You ask hastily.

"The garden is on the other side of the castle grounds but the path should be clear enough to make it there quickly," Jacaerys assures you.

The pair of you turn to Princess Rhaenyra, who quirks a brow and Jace removes his hand from your shoulder.

"Let us make haste then," she declares as she walks towards the exit, cutting right between the Prince and yourself.

Jace opens his mouth to say something to you when Rhaenyra stops suddenly and calls over her shoulder,

"Jacaerys," she turns to the side, back facing you, "walk with me."

She begins walking and Jace gives you an apologetic glance before falling into step beside his mother. You spare one more hopeful look towards the shadows, listening closely for the beat of Tempest's wings, but to no avail. The kingsguard meant to be following behind the party lets out a quiet cough and gestures towards the others. You stride quickly to catch up to them and the kingsguard follows in suit. As you approach, you hear Rhaenyra begin speaking to her son.

"You're meant to be resting," she reprimands, almost playfully, "How did you get down here?"

"I snuck out while the guards changed," he chuckles, "They weren't exactly vigilant when they were told by the maesters I was deep asleep."

The Princess shakes her head and lets out a soft snicker.

"Oh," he jests, "as if you never snuck out to the dragonpit in the middle of the night."

A smile forms on your face as you watch the imposing mask of the Princess melt away as she laughs with her son. Jace had told you many stories of his family, the love he felt for them evident as he shared with you. Witnessing it firsthand, however, was even more heartwarming.

As the company draws near to the exit, a fourth figure now stands among the guards you had encountered on the way in. The figure stands facing away but turns as your footfalls grow louder.

"I wondered where everyone had disappeared to," murmurs the unmistakable voice of Daemon Targaryen. "I worried the little thief might have escaped with hostages."

Jace makes to charge forward but is halted my his mother's arm shooting out in front of him. The mask returns to Rhaenyra's face.

"Daemon," she admonishes, "this is y/n. They have sworn fealty to our house and will do so again in front of the council on the morrow." She lets her words hang in the air for a moment before continuing, "We are escorting them to their camp to make an introduction to their dragon if you wish to join us."

She strolls past him with Jacaerys in tow, leaving the two of you face to face once more. You watch him carefully as you stand rooted to the ground.

"Y/n," Rhaenyra calls without stopping her stride, "let us hurry if we are to achieve a reasonable amount of sleep before the sun greets us."

“After you,” Daemon smirks and gestures for you to walk ahead.

You nod and give him a wide berth as you trot up behind Rhaenyra and Jacaerys, letting out a quiet sigh once the Prince Consort is a comfortable distance away. Jace quickly peeks at you from the corner of his eye but continues forward without a word.

You are led along winding passages and corridors, losing all sense of direction until you pass through a large doorway and enter the open air. The ground still wet from the torrential rain but the clouds finally receding over the sea. As you enter the overgrown remnants of Aegon's garden you hear a faint cry emanating from below.

Jace looks back at you and reaches for a torch off the column nearby. He uses the fire from the kingsguard's torch to ignite his own before stepping forward to take the lead.

"This way," he commands and treks into the weeds.

The cry grows louder and your pace quickens, passing Rhaenyra and the kingsguard. The Prince leads you to a collection of black stone dragons at the edge of the garden. He stops next to one whose wings have been lost to the elements and hands the torch to you. As the others approach, he uncovers a distressed wooden hatch from beneath the tangled vines and throws it open to reveal a narrow stairway carved into the stone below.

With the door wide open, the cries echo from inside and without a second thought, you sprint down into the void. Jace calls after you and a perplexed commotion erupts as you leave them behind but your only thought is on reaching Tempest as fast as your legs can carry you.

With the speed you descend the spiral staircase, the torch struggles to stay lit. Its wavering light scarcely enough to illuminate your feet, which causes you to crumple to the ground when the stairs come to an abrupt end. The torch is thrown from your hand during the fall and finally fizzles out, leaving you in darkness.

Your hands and knees ache as you stand to regain your bearings and a warmth slowly spreads down your shins. Although you have traveled this path from the bottom of the stairs to your camp often enough with Jace, you know that a journey in the dark will likely lead to further injuries. Another cry from Tempest rings out from within the vast cavern and you wince. Despite the agonizing need to reach her as quick as possible, you steel yourself with a breath and wait for the others to catch up.

Thankfully, they wasted little time in following after you and after only a couple quiet moments the passage behind you is filled with the gentle glow of torchlight. Daemon and Jacaerys emerge first followed closely by Rhaenyra and only one of the kingsguard. The other likely standing guard atop the spiral steps. Jace breaks from Daemon and approaches you as you turn to face them.

“Y/n!” He calls, noticing the blood beginning to seep through your trousers, “What happened?”

“I just lost my footing,” you admit sheepishly, reaching down to pick up the extinguished torch and handing it back to Jace.

He spies the abrasions across your palms and offers you the same discreet look of concern from the dragonmont. You quickly hide your hands behind your back as Daemon saunters up to the two of you. He eyes you suspiciously before glancing around the small chamber.

“How did you find this place?” He questions as Rhaenyra steps forward to join the three of you.

“Luke and I discovered this staircase while running through the garden,” Jace answers on your behalf, “I didn’t explore any further into the cave until I saw y/n and Tempest dive below the water near the cliffs just outside.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon look back to you with curiosity until a roar from Tempest brings their attention towards the dark path ahead. The Princess turns to the remaining kingsguard and orders him to stand guard at the base of the steps. Daemon’s gaze returns to you however, a spark of recognition alight in his eyes.

Jace ignites his torch once again and steps between Daemon and you.

“Shall we?” He says to you with a smile as he turns his back to his great uncle, gesturing for you to walk beside him.

Rhaenyra steps into line behind the two of you, once again leaving Daemon at the rear. Tempest’s deafening roars leave little room for conversation as you and your friend expertly guide your guests down the dark stone path. The torchlight glitters atop various pools along the path, revealing the vast expanse of catacombs and caverns below their home. After rounding a corner the path funnels into a narrow crevice, only wide enough for a single person at a time. Your dragon’s cries now shaking the walls with their volume.

You and Jace face each other and he nods once.

“Go on ahead, we’ll be right behind you,” he assures with a small smile.

You return the smile and charge forward through the passage calling Tempest’s name. Her cries come to a stop when she hears your voice and the moment you stumble into the large chamber, you are met with her massive snout which you fall on top of in a tearful embrace.

She gently lifts you away from the wall and sets you down beside your belongings, rumbling beneath your weight.

“You’re alright,” you run your hands across her scales, “we’re alright.”

You slide off her nose and wipe the tears from your eyes just as Jace emerges from the crack in the far wall. Tempest turns and chirps at the familiar face but moves quickly to investigate when Rhaenyra and Daemon enter. A low grumble emits from her chest as she looks over the two newcomers. You run to stand between them but Rhaenyra speaks before you reach the other side.

“Lykiri, Tempest, lykiri.” Her tone is soothing but you can see uncertainty in the Princess’s eyes. She extends a hand into the open air between them.

Tempest lets out a huff and takes a deep breath, watching the Princess carefully with her golden eyes. You run up to the side of her large head and offer a reassuring touch but she continues to stare down the pair.

“Easy,” you coo, “these are our friends.”

You eye Daemon as the last word leaves your mouth, who is too entranced to notice. Tempest inches closer to allow Rhaenyra’s hand to touch her nose. Jacaerys reaches out to places his hand over his mother’s and Tempest closes her eyes. She pulls away and moves to her resting place near your camp, seemingly content with her investigation.

“I thought you said she hatched eight years ago,” Daemon continues to watch Tempest as she perches near the water’s edge, “how is she this large?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly, following his gaze, “I didn’t know she was considered so until I came here and met Vermax.”

“It’s possible she grew quickly to adapt during your journey.” Jace offers, slightly defensive, “She has flown leagues farther than Vermax or Syrax for that matter.”

Rhaenyra turns to you and places a hand on your shoulder.

“She’s beautiful,” she says earnestly.

Her compliment takes you off guard.

“Thank you, Princess.” You reply, your heart swelling with pride.

“We are lucky to have the both of you in our service.”

Your face drops as you are reminded of the oath you will swear before the lords come sunrise. The Princess eyes you carefully and you breathe deeply before meeting her gaze.

“The honor is mine.” You say with a bow, filling your words with as much enthusiasm as you can muster.

Seeing the unease in your face as you bow, she moves her hand to hold your chin.

“You are to be a dragonrider of House Targaryen, a title we have not bestowed upon anyone outside our own family. But my son believes you are worthy of it.”

You break the Princess’s gaze to find Jace’s eyes at the mention of him, only to find them already trained on your face. You are only able to meet his eyes for a moment before Rhaenyra brings your attention back to her with a stroke of her thumb across your jaw.

“I hope one day to share his confidence.” She releases your face, allowing you stand upright and she continues, looking around your meager camp, “Regardless, you shall be shown the same hospitality as the other members of our staff.”

You nod, speaking with more confidence, “I am grateful for the opportunity to earn your trust.”

“Gather your things and lets away.” The Princess commands turning towards the pathway back to the surface with Daemon and Jacaerys in tow.

You are struck with a sudden sadness as you look back to Tempest and your belongings scattered around the only place you have called home for more than one night in over eight years.

“May I…” you call after Rhaenyra before she disappears through the narrow gap, “may I fly Tempest to the dragonmont? I cannot bear to leave her down here alone.”

“As you wish,” she grants, a surprising softness to her voice, “I shall send a kingsguard to meet you at the entrance.”

You smile with another small bow, sneaking one more glance in Jace’s direction before wading into the water. The salt stinging at the wounds on your knees and hands.

“Tempest,” you murmur and she leaps up to join you.

You swim to meet her in the deep pool and climb up to your perch behind her head.

“Until the morning,” you call over your shoulder at the trio upon the rocky shore, and they watch you and your dragon dive below the sea, leaving this cave together for the last time.

#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x you #hotd #prince jacaerys #jacaerys x y/n #jacaerys valaryon x reader #jacaerys x reader #friends to lovers #slow burn #queer yearning #nonbinary reader #dragon rider #jace velaryon

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johnwickb1tsch · 3 months ago

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Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 13

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on the amazing @discoscoob 's concept & bot!

Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, dubcon/nsfw. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!!!

one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven. twelve.

Thirteen.

At the crack of dawn Donaka wakes you with open-mouthed kisses on your neck and his cock stuffing you full. He is careful with you, as careful as he can be, taking you with the steady slowness of breaking waves, and if you didn’t know any better, you almost could have mistaken the way he fucked you for lovemaking.

“My pretty girl,” he whispers in your hair. “Had to have your sweet little pussy again.” Despite the languid pace its not long before he fills you with hot streams of his cum.

Afterwards, he smacks you on the ass, telling you, “You’re going to be late for work.”

You are shocked, but at the same time, grateful for the opportunity to get away from him. You cannot think in his company. He gives you no peace. You frown at him, but slip into the shower without a word. As you leave he calls after you, “This is where you sleep now, y/n. Don’t forget it.”

He relishes the glare you shoot him across the room, smirking at the challenge in your eyes. “Go on, defy me, bunny. See what happens.”

A tiny growl escapes your throat, your voice refusing to cooperate in forming actual words.

“What was that?”

“Fine,” you grind out between your teeth, before slipping out the door.

When you join the ranks to receive your tasks for the day, Mrs. Yeung, the chief housekeeper, does not give you a second look. Perhaps she knows where her bread is buttered, and passing judgment on Mr. Mark’s new plaything will not serve her. Mei, however, is shooting you playful looks, and you know you will be interrogated later when she gets you alone.

What the fuck are you going to say?

You find yourself contemplating the height of the garden walls, wondering how far you might get should you just scale one and make your way down the road, hop a bus, go to the Embassy on the other side of the island. However, you’re sure Donaka is watching through his cameras. The dark little eyes tucked up in the corners of the rooms and outside never seemed so sinister before as they do now. You never really thought about how completely he can surveil his domain from the comfort of his office chair.

You never cared before, because you were never up to something.

That is when it dawns on you. You cannot stop yourself from taking a detour back into your room, and you check every corner, nook, and cranny. You find it tucked within an affixed wall decoration. A tiny camera, pointed right at your bed.

The things he surely watched you do, long before you had any inkling…

It makes you simultaneously hot all over with rage–and you hate to admit, titillation. He really does like to watch.

You would have to remember that. It might prove his only weakness.

You are so fucked.

Feeling completely overwhelmed, all you want to do is curl up on your bed and have a good, ugly, soul-expunging cry. However, there’s the possibility he’s watching you, and so you put on a brave face, shoving it all down and flipping off the little black eye in the wall before going back to work.

***

You think you feel a little better, when you’re in the media room later, carefully dusting the screens and cables. All that goes up in smoke when Donaka slips through the door silently, pausing to look upon you like a predator at the treeline evaluating the quickest path to its prey.

You straighten, meeting his gaze with your heart in your throat. What is he up to now?

With a little smirk he pads on bare feet to the couch, seating himself like a pasha in the center with his arms up on the back. He is…still so beautiful it hurts, and you find you are grinding your teeth as you stand there silently, waiting.

When the silence between you draws on, it’s no surprise that you are the one to break first.

“Am I in your way?” you ask, glancing back at the wall full of screens. Maybe you’ll get lucky, and he’s here just to watch TV.

“Not at all,” he answers smugly, still staring you down.

Ah. Then he’s here for you. Great.

You sigh, and decide to go back to what you were doing, rather than quiver like a mouse trapped in a cage with a snake. “Don’t you have a company to run or something?” you grouse at him.

“The key to good management is proper delegation.”

“Wow, that’s a fancy way of saying ‘I have underlings to do my dirty work.’” It’s possible you lace your words with a bit of mockery, and maybe you shouldn’t bait this man…but then again, there is a part of you that wants to bait him. You want him to do something so truly awful, so unforgivable that the confusion in your heart will solidify to stone, and you will no longer be conflicted about this man, and what you want from him.

However, he simply chuckles at your insouciance, sounding 300 percent the villain that he is. “I doubt you even really know what my company truly does.”

You blink at that. He runs a security firm. You realize…that really could be a blanket term for so many things. “I guess I just assume you keep an eye on things for rich clients,” you say, waving at all the monitors. “You clearly like to watch.”

You insinuate that you know he had a camera in your room. You wonder if he watched you nearly break down. You wonder if he cares.

You can’t help but notice his pale, elegant bare feet–his long toes curl as he smirks at you. Is he enjoying this little bout of verbal sparring?

“That I do, y/n.” He tilts his head, his gaze sweeping you up and down. “It’s not all we do though at Security System Alliance. Sometimes a situation with our clients requires a physical touch.”

So he has commando operatives at his beck and call as well. Not a huge surprise, considering. You can’t tell if he’s threatening you, or simply making conversation.

“Interesting. What kind of situations? I hear kidnapping is a big problem with the uber rich these days.”

His smile widens, and you decide that yes, he is enjoying this game of double-speak. “So it is. Obviously I can’t disclose details, but we did secure the safe return of a billionaire’s son not so long ago.”

“Was there a ransom?”

“They wanted 20 million dollars.”

“Did they get it?”

“Some of it.”

You take a step closer, your hands on your hips.

“Did you orchestrate the kidnapping in the first place?”

Now his smile is like a baring of teeth for you. “Oh, that would be dastardly.”

It’s not a yes…but it’s not a no.

“You just seem to have experience in such things.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. You seemed satisfied with the results earlier.”

You grip your dusting rag, a fine trembling running down your arms, and you narrowly resist the temptation to throw it at his head. The feminine urge to break things and scream. “Is this something you’ve done to other women?” you ask quietly. You don’t really expect him to answer you truthfully–but suddenly you need to know.

“No,” he answers, his tone equally hushed. “My relationships with women are usually more transactional.”

You frown at that. Does he mean prostitutes? Or mistresses who expect to be paid in housing and gifts and an allowance…? You suppose he sort of tried that with you, with the bracelet. It didn’t exactly work in his favor, so he had to resort to other tactics.

You wonder if you’d just given in back then, if he’d already be bored with you now? Is that the key to your freedom? That tremble has made its way to your core now. You feel cold all over, and a little sick.

He sees this change in you, and the smile on his face fades. “Come here,” he orders, holding out his hand.

“No.”

“Don’t make me ask twice.”

You’d thought you were feeling better, but you realize you just managed to push it all down to function. The pain and the fear and the anger wells up inside you with a vengeance, and you do throw the rag at him–then you run, even though deep down you know there isn’t a hope in hell for you to actually escape him. You round the couch and he utterly surprises you when he vaults over the back of it, lithe as a panther.

When he grabs you up with those long arms you snarl and squirm like a wild little animal and none of it does you a damn bit of good. He crushes you against him, and you can’t help it. You start to cry again against his chest, pushing at him at first, and then simply gripping fistfulls of his nice shirt while you stain it with your tears and snot and probably saliva too.

“Alright, alright. That’s enough of that.” He doesn’t yell at you, sounding more bored than anything. You realize that this is not the fun part of the game for him. Bastard. He picks you up and carries you back to the couch, sitting with you cradled in his lap.

“I realize this development will take a period of adjustment for you, but I suggest you calm down.”

He says it so clinically, and that wildness rises in you again. A feral need to struggle and fight no matter the cost, your sense of self-preservation flown completely out of the window. “I suggest you eat a bag of dicks,” you snarl, starting to thrash in his arms again. He adjusts his hold on you with his arm pinning you across the chest, and that’s when you really fuck up.

You bite him, and you get him good, clamping your teeth down on the meaty part of his forearm. He actually cries out, which is satisfying for about 2 seconds before he has you flipped and thrown down on the couch across his lap, pinning your face into the cushions with that big hand spanning the whole back of your head.

“That hurt,” he snarls, and you wonder what he has in store for you now. Good. You hope it’s something terrible, so you can get on with the business of hating him. This hovering in limbo shit is too much agony.

“I hope it gets infected.”

You expect him to yell at you. Curse you. Hurt you.

You do not expect him to throw back his head and laugh.

“Oh, my sweet little bunny. You stupid girl.”

“Fuck you.”

“You need to learn the art of self-restraint. I’ll be more than happy to teach it to you.”

You open your mouth to scream, but he pushes you down into the couch cushions, muffling your cries, nearly suffocating you. “You can be quiet, or I can gag you.”

You go deathly still at that, ceasing to even breathe, the thought is so abhorrent to you.

“Ah, there’s my good girl.” He strokes the backs of your legs, from the curve of your calf up the soft flesh of your thigh, then higher beneath your skirt, toying with the seam of your panties. It feels horribly wonderful and far too intimate and you can’t sit still in his lap while he touches you like this right after you were just fighting for your life. “Be still,” he warns you. “Or I’ll tie you.”

There it is again. The threat from before, and you really believe he’d do it now. You force yourself to go still in his lap, the only motion the fine trembling you cannot seem to stop that still plagues your limbs.

“That’s much better,” he purrs, hooking his finger into the waistband of your panties, slowly drawing them down to your knees. When his questing hand slides up your skirt again, palming the curve of your ass he gives an appreciative groan. “I should bite you,” he muses, pinching you alarmingly close to the juncture of your thighs. “Right here, see how you like it.”

Maybe he expects you to squeal or whine, but you just sigh like you’re already tired of this shit, and you wish he’d get it over with. A fresh stream of tears has started falling from your eyes, beading on the leather upholstery. You’ll probably get into trouble for that too.

“Oh, am I boring you?” he asks, half amused, half annoyed.

“Yes,” you answer, and that’s when he pushes your skirt up to your waist and spanks your right buttcheek, the perfect snap loud as a crack of lightning in the room. You can’t help but scream then, and he chuckles as he finally gets the reaction he wants.

“If you’re going to behave like a naughty child, I suppose I’ll discipline you like one.”

“Gross.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Do I?”

Smack!

This time you don’t scream, but you do jump, squirming in his lap.

“Fuck!”

Smack! This time on the left cheek, and you bite the inside of your lip hard enough to make yourself bleed, though you stay silent.

He lets you stew in the burning pain that spreads across your skin, before soothing your flesh with a featherlight touch afterwards that incredibly—inexplicably–makes you throb between your legs.

What the fuck is wrong with you?

“I came in here to offer you a treat for good behavior,” he muses almost absently. “But I’m afraid that’s gone completely out the window.” You can’t help but think he’s trying to make your relationship transactional, like he’d said before. Spread the blame, and the temptation, out between you, rather than rest it completely on his shoulders.

“I don’t want it,” you grumble into the leather beneath you.

“Oh, I think you do. You think you’re above the temptations of wealth? No one is. It’s just a matter of finding the things you want, and I’m certain this would have hit the target.”

A long silence draws out between you. You hate it, that you want to know what he concocted, what he thinks he knows about you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction. Yet here you are, bent over his lap with your bare ass in the air–what dignity is left to you? At last you take the bait.

“What is it?”

“I would rephrase that, if I were you.”

You sigh, consider telling him to fuck off, and decide you don’t have the fortitude today to stand up to whatever he would do to you after. Another battle, lost to this man.

“What carefully considered bribery did I miss out on in my headstrong resistance to your charms, Sir?”

This makes him laugh like the villain he is. “Oh that was good. I liked that.” He continues to draw light circles upon your buttocks and the backs of your thighs, driving you mad with his gentle touch. Despite the fact that he has–not to put too fine a point on it–already murdered your pussy, your center throbs and weeps in response to his hands upon you like this. He is carefully avoiding touching you there, teasing you mercilessly with his fingertips, but if he did dip in a finger he would find you soaked.

“Maybe I could be convinced to tell you, if you make it up to me. You’ve been a very bad girl.”

You know you are a depraved thing, when your treacherous clit throbs in answer to this suggestion. Thinking you know what he wants, because you can feel the bulge of his hard cock pressing against your side, you make to get up.

Immediately he pins you back down, his fingers fisting in your hair. It sends a thrill down your spine, and you shift your hips in response, pressing your thighs in hope of some relief. “Did I say you could get up?”

Oh.

God fucking dammit.

“How can I make it up to you, Sir?”

Even the sound of his dark chuckle strums at your clit, turning you into an angry, needy little mess in his lap.

“Get on your knees, bunny.” He guides you to the floor between his legs, slow but exacting, his fingers still tangled in your hair. Looking up at him like this from beneath your lashes wreaks unspeakable mayhem upon your sense of reason, and all you can think is that you’re fucked. Well and totally fucked, because you still can’t make your mind up about this man.

“Take it out.”

You shouldn’t enjoy running your palms up the lean length of his thighs encased in fine fabric, the way that you do. Your hands should shake more, as you undo his designer belt and the clasp of his trousers, carefully pulling the zipper down. The impressive length of his manhood strains against his briefs, and you shouldn’t feel this thrill of excitement as his cock springs free as you pull the last barrier down.

You dare to look up at him again, gauging his mood. The truth is that you enjoy giving head, when you’re in love and you feel safe and you’re having a good time. One of those is completely off the table–the other two, you’re still on the fence about.

“If I feel the slightest hint of teeth you will regret it.”

“I’m not going to bite off my favorite part of you,” you fire back, and you get lucky when this seems to delight him, winning a huff of laughter.

“Good. Give it a kiss then.”

You do as you’re told, and do him one better, taking his head between your lips and swirling your tongue around that nerve-rich flesh. You feel him relax beneath you, a low moan your reward as you take him further into your mouth, almost to the hilt. He lets you do what you want with him, seeming to enjoy your freestyling lips and tongue upon his hard shaft. You forget yourself, teasing the throbbing vein ever so lightly with your bottom teeth. It earns you a growl of warning–you shouldn’t laugh, muffled as it is with your mouthful–but you do.

You know it’s your punishment, when his hold tightens in your hair at the back of your head, guiding you down down down onto his erection. He is too big to fit completely into your mouth. You try, and fail to suppress your gag reflex. But he holds you, not letting you up.

“Relax,” he orders with new steel in his tone. “You can do it.”

With tears in your eyes you fight to ease him into the back of your throat, taking him a little further. “That’s my good girl.” Now he guides you his with his hand on your head, merciless as he fucks your face with his huge cock. “Swallow it all, bunny.” It’s the only warning you get before a flood of spend fills your throat and your mouth, his iron-grip in your hair preventing you from moving anywhere but down upon him. You struggle to swallow, trying not to make a mess all over his expensive dress pants. When at last he lets you go, you gulp and gasp for air, wiping at the corner of your mouth.

He smirks down at you, eyes half-lidded with satisfaction but still shining black as a shark’s. It takes every iota of your self control not to say what you’re thinking: asshole.

Maybe you can be taught.

“Not bad. We’ll work on that.” You fall back on your butt on the floor when he releases you, and you watch as he puts himself away and stands, leaving you a crumpled mess on the floor at his feet. You can tell he enjoys this vantage, towering over you. Who says you have no self-control? Because you are so tempted to punch him in the balls, even if you know he would end you for it.

“See you tonight, honey.”

You can hardly believe he’s leaving after that–leaving you in a haggard little unsatisfied pile. Only with his hand on the door does he turn back to you, throwing over his shoulder, “Don’t you dare touch yourself. I’ll know.”

You acknowledge this directive with a frustrated little growl, banging your head on the cushioned edge of the couch. He takes this as close enough to acknowledgement, sweeping out of the room with a wicked chuckle. You stay on the floor for a good half hour, trying to process this latest indignity, and begging your body to calm the fuck down. Remember, that you hurt everywhere? Your libido is not so convinced.

Neither go well for you, so in the end you just give up, get up, and go back to what you were doing with the taste of Donaka Mark still sharp and astringent on your tongue.

Bastard. Maybe escape won’t be enough. The longer this goes on…the more you want revenge.

#donaka mark #donaka mark x reader #donaka mark x you #donaka mark x y/n #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves #dark romance #plz be warned #keanuverse #keanuverse fic

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grandline-fics · 4 months ago

Text

Immune To Your Charms

DESCRIPTION: Soulmates are incapable of harming the other in any way. Normally that would be a good thing but not when you're meant to be enemies.

WARNINGS: It's Doflamingo so it features mentions of killing/ injury/ general violence. Soulmate! AU, Enemies to Lovers

CHARACTERS: Doflamingo

WORDS: 2,543

A/N: Part of the Good For Your Soul Series. I had such a burst of energy last night and today I'm worried I'm starting to get sick which made getting this finished a bit of a struggle. Hopefully you all still like how this is going

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

DIRECTORY | PROMPT LIST

——————

Your mind was a mess and you had expected to find no rest at all but the second you’d sank into the mattress and head hit the pillow you were instantly asleep, your body unable to resist the luxury and comfort that had enveloped you. Yes you were a prisoner here in every sense of the word without it being spoken but in a bed like this, things could be worse and you knew that. If anything you had accepted the prospect of some dark, dingy cell barely big enough for you to fit in and a few thin, dirty pieces of fabric for a sorry excuse of a bed and blanket. This enormous living quarters had not been expected and even as you slowly woke from the deepest and best sleep of your life it still took you a few moments to adjust to the sight of it all and remind yourself that you hadn’t been dreaming.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you let out a sigh, contemplating just staying in bed. You knew Doflamingo had said you could go and do as you pleased but did you really want to? You knew Doflamingo was a pirate, up to unknown evil of a wide range of criminality. Could you really witness it without being able to stop it? You were brought out of your thoughts when a knock sounded at your door. Slowly you looked over, expecting it to open but there was only tense silence. Whoever it was they were waiting for you to answer. “Come in.”

Timidly the door opened and a young maid entered. She was nervous, keeping her head down and hands clasped in front of her. Lowly she bowed to you and even when she rose, she kept her gaze away from your face. Not because of an order, it just seemed she was genuinely intimidated. Worried. “Sorry for disturbing your rest. Would you care for breakfast here or will you be joining the family this morning?”

You pulled a face at the prospect of dining with Doflamingo and his ‘family’ which you assumed meant the higher ranked members of his crew. Absently you recalled the woman Violet who revealed the truth of your and Doflamingo’s situation but honestly you hadn’t really paid much attention to anyone else that had been in the drawing room. The only others you had a strange recollection about were the two figures that had been at the warehouse along with Doflamingo but it was too dark and you were in too much pain to really get a proper look at them before you’d fallen unconscious. Quickly you snapped yourself out of your thoughts and offered the maid an apologetic look. “Sorry. No I won’t be joining them.” You told her.

It made you uncomfortable when she bowed again but she was gone from the room before you could tell her to stop that. You doubted she would listen anyway, if she didn’t act as she normally did she could be punished by someone. You didn’t put it passed any of the pirates in the building to lash out at the staff over the smallest of reasons. With a heavy sigh you dragged yourself out of the bed and made your way to the small table by one of the tall windows and settled down into the chair. Finally you allowed yourself to pull back the curtain and take in the view outside, breath catching at the expansive beauty of the city and spanning island beyond it. Dressrosa was indeed a stunning place, from up here in the Palace you couldn’t see much activity from the city but just like the upkeep of the castle you now found yourself in, it seemed orderly and clean. You couldn’t hear any violence or seen signs of unrest of some countries you’d seen over the years. It made your stomach twist to feel a sense of peace and calm. Could the people truly be happy with a pirate ruling over them? You supposed if the people knew it was a Warlord, protected and feared then there would never be a risk of an outside attack. You just wondered what it was Doflamingo demanded of the people to keep them safe from him and those in his command.

At the sound of the door opening you glanced in the reflection of the window to see the servant return, pushing a small trolley inside. Following behind was Doflamingo. Eyes narrowing you turned your head to scowl at him. You’d thought your decision to eat in your room also meant you wouldn’t have to see him either until you wanted to. Realistically you should have known better. Of course he’d appear when he wished and of course he’d choose first thing to start your day off on a sour note. Coldly you followed his movements as he tugged out the chair opposite you and relaxed into it, making a note to let your Marine file fall onto the polished table surface. Your eyebrows rose minutely. You weren’t surprised to see it, more that Doflamingo seemed to want you to know he had it. You offered a polite smile to the servant as she shakily offered you your cup of tea.

“So how did my dear soulmate sleep?” Doflamingo chuckled when your smile dropped and you turned a glare his way. His laughter continued when you grabbed the morning paper from the trolley and opened it with a snap, refusing to even entertain the notion of small talk with him. With a flick of his finger, your file opened and he reclined in his seat, one arm lazily hanging over the back of seat while he sipped at his coffee. “Well you look refreshed, still you’d look better if you didn’t have those drab clothes you still have on.”

“Fashion advice from you? That’s rich.” you muttered under your breath. It was more to yourself and a reflex but the smug chuckle made you roll your eyes. In the odd sense of wins and loses you had with this man, it was a point to Doflamingo. “Your doctor informed me that my Marine uniform was destroyed after they tended to my injuries and this is what I was given when I woke up.”

“Well what are you waiting for?” You frowned at Doflamingo’s words and used your finger to lower one corner of the newspaper to see the servant bow lower than she had with just you and flee the room.

“What was that about?”

“They’re getting you new clothes. Obviously.” You opened your mouth to argue then rolled your eyes, knowing it was pointless. You couldn’t live in one outfit for your time here and you had no money to buy new clothes yourself. Sitting back in your seat, you lifted the paper again to continue reading. News of the warehouse explosion was there, tucked into the corner of a page and summarised in a small handful of paragraphs. Loss of life of Marines and some pirates had been revealed but no names. Slowly you turned the page. You stilled when Doflamingo spoke up.“Your file is interesting…”

“You must be reading someone else’s.” You noted dryly, remaining casual. “Nothing spectacular in those pages.”

“And that’s exactly how you planned it to be.” You could hear the grin in Doflamingo’s voice. Yet again you lowered the paper to stare at him. You offered no verbal response to his accusation but your expression was trained into one of patient, confusion; waiting for him to elaborate in his theory. “No one rises in the ranks as smoothly and fast as your timeline just to taper off in the middle like this and remain there. Very sneaky, lying to your superiors. Did it annoy you to serve someone who by all rights should have been your subordinate?”

“Only in the cases were they were incompetent but I knew that would be a possibility. As long as the missions were successful I didn’t care.”

“Yet they took the glory. Must have stung.”

“If my vanity needed fed for something as trivial as glory or praise I would have continued to rise the ranks in the Marines, or become a pirate.” You explained with a smirk, seeing his momentarily glower at you. “Any other questions?”

———

“The weapons and ammunition are being unloaded at the docks and all the materials were delivered to Punk Hazard without issue, Doffy.” You heard a new voice coming from one of the rooms up ahead. After you’d showered and changed into one of the many outfits brought to your your on Doflamingo’s order you'd decided to explore more of the castle. If not to have something to do but to also get a better lay of the land. You stepped closer, making no effort to silence your steps. As Doflamingo had said, you weren’t deemed a threat to anything he was doing and the mention of Punk Hazard had caught your attention. You stepped up to the doorway and leant against the doorframe, eyeing the two men standing in front of Doflamingo.

Doflamingo grinned at your appearance, finding your choice in clothing so much more flattering to your figure instead of your ugly Marine uniform or the rags you’d been wearing that morning. Diamante and Señor Pink had promptly shut their mouths when you arrived. They had been brought up to speed about who you were and why you were still alive. You looked at the two innocently even giving them a taunting little wave. Diamante glanced at Doflamingo questioning silently if he should continue even with the interruption. When his young master nodded, he spoke. “The latest batch of SAD is at the factory now to continue production smoothly.”

You pushed away from the doorframe as they continued talking and ventured further into the room, making note of the large bookcases lining the wall and all of them filled with old and expensive texts in a whole range of subjects. Finally your eyes roamed appreciatively over the stocked drinks cabinet and you pulled open the door to lift out one of the bottles of whiskey. You moved out of the way when one of the glasses flew out from the shelf and you followed its movement until it landed in Doflamingo’s waiting hand. His free hand gestured silently for you to bring the bottle over. Humming to yourself you poured plentiful glass of your own and walked over to Doflamingo’s desk.

Your lips twitched in amusement to see Doflamingo still lazily hold his glass, waiting for you to pour the drink for him. You sipped your own drink, relishing the taste that only got better when you set the bottle down beside his arm. He could pour it himself, you weren’t his servant. As you glanced at a map set to the side of the desk you heard Diamante’s annoyance drip through his words. “The sooner you work out a way to undo this the sooner you can repay them for their disrespect towards you Doffy.”

“Such a fragile pride your Doffy has if not pouring a drink for him is too much to handle.” You noted sarcastically, pulling the map fully out from underneath the sheets of paper holding it down.“But I hope he finds a way to fix it soon too. Maybe your crazed scientist will work a way.”

“Who says there's a crazed scientist?” Doflamingo asked, grinning as he poured himself a drink for himself. He watched as you looked up from studying the map that had caught your attention to throw him an incredulous look.

“A guy like you definitely has a mad scientist employed somewhere.” You smirked, looking back to the map. “If you didn’t I think I’d actually respect you less if that were even possible.”

“Doffy you don't need to let them speak to you this way.” Diamante insisted, looking to his leader. He’d literally burned a town to the ground for Doflamingo because he tripped on the street in his youth. He’d killed countless people for looking at the Warlord in a way he wasn't satisfied with. To witness you be so blatantly contemptuous without punishment felt so wrong to him. “I won’t kill them but please let me teach them to hold their tongue.”

“No one harms them, Diamante.” Doflamingo stated firmly and it was enough for Diamante to shut his mouth and nod. “No-one is taking the privilege from me. No matter how much goading they do, don’t hurt them. Make sure everyone knows. You two can go now.”

“Spoilsport.” You grumbled watching the men leave without protest. Here you thought you’d be able to get to the inner circle to be killed but Doflamingo seemed to know your game already. Clicking your tongue in annoyance you swirled your drink before a thought came to you. “What about poison?”

“What about it?”

“If I poured poison into a bottle and you served it between two glasses and we both drank, who would die?” You asked curiously, trying to wrap your head around the logistics of this whole soulmate nonsense. “If we both had a hand in it would we both be spared or both killed?”

Doflamingo stared at you with a broadening smile, deep laughter building in his chest. He’d really underestimated your mind it seemed. So far you’d seemed so calm and collected, accepting your place here until he found a way to kill you. Apart from the disrespect you threw his way and constant defiance to recognise his authority and superiority, he’d yet to see you snap. To see you break in true anger, fear, or sadness was something he wanted to witness and at this point he didn’t care which of the emotions it was.

“Sadly I think it would cancel out. I had a similar thought and poisoned your tea this morning and you didn’t react even though the maid poured it.” He explained and as disappointed as he felt that it didn’t work, seeing your own grumpy disappointment shape your face brought him some enjoyment. As he took another slow sip of his drink he spotted how your attention was taken once again by the map in your hand. “What’s got you so invested in that island?”

“I was stationed there for a couple months on a mission at the beginning of the year.” You explained with a shrug setting it aside. Even thinking about your missions felt like a different life. It hurt to know you’d never be a Marine again and help people. “You eyeing it up for an expansion of your mighty empire?”

“Not exactly.” He chuckled. There wasn’t anything you could say or do to stop him or his work so he could say what he liked. “I’m supplying weapons and foot soldiers to a local pirate group for them to take over. In return I get a profit of their enterprise and a share of the island’s natural resources.” At his explanation Doflamingo watched you process his words as you continued to drink, he noted something indecipherable briefly flicker in your eyes but beyond that you kept perfect control of your expression. Now he was even more determined to see what made you tick.

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