#the idea of sex is both scary and slightly disgusting to me

[fly-in-amber]

YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

tbh i might be demi but that still counts imo

HAPPY ACE WEEK FUCKERS

[dixonsbrat]

𖥔 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐑 𖥔

summary ; eddie needs you and he needs you now.

pairing ; eddie munson × girlfriend!reader

notes ; nsfw, p in v sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, kinda public but not really, fingering. let me know if i forgot anything !

do not transfer, translate or share my work to any other sites.

when it came to you, eddie was needy – much like you were with him.  

it didn’t take a whole lot to set you off, and the second that something stirred in the pit of your stomachs, you needed the other to relieve it. you craved eddie’s touch just as much as he craves yours, so much so that you had almost created your own language for when you needed attention.  

eddie knew what it meant the second your bottom lip would jut forward slightly, big puppy dog eyes staring back at him and he would have to pretend like he wasn’t already imagining himself being buried deep inside you. that he wasn’t thinking about the way you looked down on your knees or with your skirt hitched up, ready for him to devour you.  

sometimes you would be in the most inconvenient of places and feel his hand firmly grasp your ass, or slip under your shirt, and his lips would immediately be drawn to your neck. it was his way of telling you that he was in the mood.

though, you wouldn’t give in to him all the time, and mostly you enjoyed watching him squirm as you tell him just how badly you were needing him, showing him a little more skin or subtly flashing him, and movie night with steve and robin was no exception to this.  

it took all but two seconds of eddie seeing the glint in your eye as you entered his trailer for him to know that he was already a goner. even more so when you waste no time in pressing your lips to his, your body leaning into him and almost knocking him off his feet. had steve and robin not already been there, you would’ve dragged him to his room before he could say a word.  

“well, hello to you too,” his words are muffled against the fruity softness of your lips and he kicks the door shut behind you. his hands reach to caress either side of your head, and he pulls away only long enough to smile at you, lips quirking up at the corners, “how’s my girl?” 

you draw in your bottom lip, attention wavering to steve and robin sitting on the floor not far behind him as they try to throw popcorn into the other’s mouth, “let’s just say... i don’t think i can wait an entire movie for us to be alone.” 

you hadn't seen eddie for a couple of days and the heat between your legs was only growing with every second that he wasn’t inside you. the moisture had started to gather just from the mere sight of him and it wouldn’t be long until it became unbearable.  

a sharp breath is all that leaves him, and he leans forward, “does the castle need conquering?” 

“the castle is seconds away from falling to shambles,” you pull him even closer, pressing another kiss to his lips. 

a thoughtful expression etches itself on eddie’s face, the gears turning in his head, and it takes every ounce of self-control for him not to come up with some excuse to get rid of steve and robin. but he couldn’t do that – no – they had been talking for weeks about how excited they were to watch the new scary movie that had come into the store.  

“okay, lovebirds, get a room,” robin sneers, curling her upper lip with disgust at you both. “or better yet, let’s start the movie.” 

eddie offers you his hand, a roguish grin on his face, but before he can pull you toward the sofa, you lean in close and whisper, “just so you know, i'm not wearing any underwear.” 

“holy fuck,” he exhales, eyes blown wide as his mind is instantly flooded with the idea of you wearing nothing underneath your skirt – taunting him to know that he had such easy access to your sweet spot and all he had to do was take it.  

for almost an hour, he tries to deflect his attention, tries to think of anything else, but even after steve had put the movie on and robin had turned off the lights, all he could think about was you and the way you felt wrapped around him.  

he sits on the end of the sofa with you leaning into him, your head perched just beneath his chin and a thin blanket you had stolen from his room covering your body. steve and robin had opted to sit on the floor, the two of them practically inseparable as their eyes remain trained on the screen. you weren’t even entirely sure what was happening in the movie, other than some guy running around with a mask trying to kill people, because, like eddie, you couldn’t stop thinking about him either.  

then, as if he had read your mind, his hand that had been wrapped around you, resting across your chest, slowly inches beneath the blanket to slip under your shirt, cupping your breast. you exhale, making sure steve and robin wouldn’t notice, before looking up at eddie as he adorns a devilish grin now.  

“apparently your underwear wasn’t the only thing you forget to wear tonight,” he whispers into your ear, referring to your lack of a bra, at the same time his thumb rolls over your nipple until its taunt. “just be quiet for me, okay?” 

you nod rapidly, already desperate and aching for him, and he slowly starts to inch his hand further down your body. you quietly spread your legs open enough for his hand to fit between your thighs without drawing any attention to yourself, making it seem like you were just getting comfortable.  

with steady movements, his fingers trail down to the band of your skirt, grasping at the thin material and pulling it up your thighs without trying to move the blanket. you stare up at him through your lashes, brows arching with anticipation, waiting for him to finally touch your sweet spot, when robin pops up from the floor to press pause on the movie. 

you had never seen eddie move as fast as he does to remove his hand from your core, thankfully going unnoticed as your chest races from the adrenaline. he presses his lips to the back of your head, though you know he’s just trying to cover up his laughter from almost getting caught.  

“do you guys wanna order the pizza now?” robin asks, unbeknownst to what had been going on right under their noses.  

steve is the first to nod, his hair flopping as he does, “i could go for pizza.” 

“yeah, we could – we could go for pizza,” you say, breathless and shaky as you do causing eddie to chuckle from behind you.  

robin takes it upon herself to call up the restaurant and place the order for delivery while eddie jumps up with a stiffness to his steps that only you seemed to pick up on, “the pizza is on me, just let me find my wallet.” 

he heads to his room, leaving you alone and vulnerable as you try to pull your skirt back down without making it obvious, ultimately pretending you were just fixing the blanket. though, the attention is diverted when eddie returns seconds later with empty hands.  

“i can’t find my wallet. you haven’t seen it, have you?” he makes haste of searching around the coffee table and couch for it but to no avail, even robin and steve join in the search, neither of them wanting to pay for the pizza if they didn’t have to.  

“did you check your room properly? you’re always losing stuff in there,” you shake your head, knowing that the likeliness of him losing it amongst his clothes and dnd stuff was far more likely than you cared to admit. he nods, sheepishly, lifting his shoulders into a shrug, and an exasperated sigh leaves your lips, “you two keep searching, we’ll be right back. c’mon dumb dumb, we’re gonna search your room.” 

grabbing a fistful of his shirt, you pull eddie back to his room, where everything looked normal and unturned. as if he hadn’t even bothered to look for his wallet. and that’s when you see it... his wallet... sitting on his dresser as clear as day. it’s then that you realize it was all just a ploy to get you alone and it worked.  

turning to eddie, you see that he’s already closed the door, a proud smirk plastered on his lips as he traipses across the room to meet you, “we have about three minutes before they start to wonder what’s taking us so long.” 

“then stop wasting time,” you raise a curious brow as he slowly lifts you onto the dresser. his lips barely an inch away from your own.  

he immediately takes your lips in a heated kiss, breathy and full of want, as his hands run along your body. one of yours gets tangled in his curls as the other glides down his torso and between his legs, much to his surprise. your hand is greeted with an aching erection.  

the touch causes him to jut and he moans against your lips as your fingers begin to get to work, grasping and caressing his dick. his breathing is uneven, hot, and heavy against your face. his hands are quick to assist in unbuckling his belt and pulling his pants down for his length to spring up, hitting you where you needed him the most.  

your fingers begin to grow sticky the wetter his tip gets from your touch, and you steal a glance from him. his jaw is tensed, eyes almost closed, hazy with desire, and he groans your name lowly. he connects his lips with your neck, biting, sucking down on your skin, as he hitches your skirt up to reveal your cunt. so pretty and moist – just the way he liked it.  

wrapping your legs around him, prompting him to line himself up against you, he slowly glides himself up and down before entering your needy little hole. you can’t help but gasp at his thickness and it gets harder and harder to control your breathing when he’s working you open, his teeth leaving marks of sweet pain over your tender skin.  

deciding that he’s moving too slowly, you clasp your thighs harder around him, pushing him to fill you entirely. you have to throw your head into his neck to stop yourself from crying out, teeth clamping down on his skin while he waits a beat for you to adjust to his considerable size. and then he starts to move, slowly growing faster. his pace is rough and reckless – someone missed you.  

you know you don’t have time to savor the pleasure, you needed to get to work before steve or robin came barging in. you start to push back against his rhythm, squeezing him until you feel his legs start to give way. he’s close.  

his thrusts are fast, hard, making your body shake. he’s giving you all he’s got. 

“y/n... you first... cum for me,” he whispers in your ear.  

it only takes two more thrust for a wave of warmth to shower over you as he keeps pounding you through your orgasm. his arms tighten around you as his hips gyrate, pushing himself as deep as he can before filling your hole with his secretion.  

“fuck, eds,” you cry out, though it’s muffled by his hand as he slowly pulls out of you, watching as his liquids spill from you and into a puddle on the dresser.  

gently he helps clean you up and step back on the floor, pulling a pair of sweatpants from his drawer. kissing your trembling thighs, he removes your skirt and helps you slip on the pants.  

“we should probably get back,” he snickers, offering you his hand and grabbing his wallet with the other.  

as you exit the room, robin and steve seemed to have given up the search for eddie’s missing wallet. both of them laying on the floor throwing a ball to one another.  

“did you find it?” steve asks as the two of you approach, and you snatch it from eddie’s hand to show that you did.  

“i told him he just wasn’t looking well enough. found it in his dresser,” you faux roll your eyes and return to your seat on the couch with eddie.  

robin eyes you up and down, “i take it you also found them in his dresser.” she points to the grey sweatpants you now adorned. 

you open your mouth to answer at the same time the doorbell rings, saving you from the question. eddie simply tosses his wallet to steve and he and robin answer the door. when you look back to eddie, he has an all too familiar look in his eyes and you know that your night is far from over.  

[coraniaid]

🔥 - Cordelia

Cordelia is a character I generally like without actually thinking about her very much, if that makes sense? Maybe I would care about her more actively if I were more invested in Angel; or maybe knowing what that show will ultimately do to her is what stops me from getting invested in it. Not really sure either way to be honest.

As far as hot takes go ... well, I don't think I really buy into most of the Cordelia fanon I sometimes see on Tumblr. Can't really put why better than I did last year. Like I said in my recent Faith hot take: I don't like the fanon instinct to try to make characters nicer and more sympathetic than they're presented as in canon, especially when they have some kind of canonical redemption arc. You're getting rid of one of the more interesting things about them! Why?

On the other hand, I do like the headcanon (not originally mine - I think I got this from @all-seeing-ifer) that Cordelia is ace, or at least that she's accidently ace-coded. I mean, I certainly don't think it is at all deliberate on the part of the writers, but when you go to look there sure are a lot of scenes in which Cordelia either expresses disinterest in (sometimes even disgust at) the very idea of sex (in Faith, Hope & Trick for example: "not the horny thing -- yuck!") or admits to being confused by the thought that other people might want to have sex (in Innocence, for example, she asks Xander with seeming genuine puzzlement: "does looking at guns really make girls want to have sex? That's scary.").

Oh, and although the show is really not clear on this at all, I think the high school Scooby dynamic is slightly more interesting if Willow and Cordelia were (briefly) friends when they were both much younger. To borrow a term I saw recently, this is more canon compatible than canon compliant -- I don't think anything in canon rules it out, but it's a bit of a stretch to say this something that actually comes from canon.

Certainly Xander and Cordelia knew each other from a very young age (they've known each other for at least twelve years in Season 2, as per The Dark Age). And as Willow and Xander were friends as early as kindergarten (which is confirmed in Grave if not before), I think it's safe to assume Cordelia knew Willow at that age too. In Innocence Willow reminds Xander of the "We Hate Cordelia" club ("of which you are treasurer!"), but we don't know exactly when this was formed (I'm guessing a while ago though, given the childishness of the name). What if said club was something Willow formed only after she and Cordelia stopped being friends? After Cordelia met Harmony, say (who we also know, from Graduation Day, is somebody Willow has known for at least a decade: "she picked on me for ten years") and chose being popular over her previous friendship?

Again, I suspect this isn't intentional but it's a take I rather like, and one that I think makes a bit of internal sense. Willow and Cordelia do actually seem to get on better than you might think in the early seasons -- when there's nobody else around for Cordelia to try to impress by putting Willow down, anyway (among other examples, see their intereactions throughout Prophecy Girl). And while Willow obviously doesn't like, say, Harmony -- in fact she hates her "with a fiery vengeance" according to Graduation Day again -- there was apparently no "we hate Harmony" club. What makes Cordelia different (beyond being a main character when Harmony isn't, which is probably what the writers actually had in mind).

Well, what if Cordelia isn't just one of the many people who bullied Willow in high school: what if she was her friend until she ditched her to be more popular? Wouldn't that sting just a little bit more?

We know that Cordelia is actually pretty smart, even though she tries to play it down ("I have some experience of covering these things up," she tells Xander after he sees her SAT scores in Lovers Walk; and don't forget she'd previously said she was "looking forward" to taking the SATs because she "does well in standardized testing" and was accepted into multiple good schools she just couldn't afford to attend). In fact, Cordelia basically has to be academically successful in high school in order to fulfull her primary role as Buffy's shadow self.

But if Cordelia consciously realised at some point that she should hide how smart she is from her peers in order to be popular, is it that much of a stretch to think she also decided to cut off her existing friendship with Willow, who Principal Snyder describes in Doppelgangland as represenative of "the pinnacle of academic achievement at Sunnydale High"?

Also, in the spirit of this post about parallels between Willow and Cordelia (which I really like), it's interesting to compare Willow's nightmare in Restless -- being back in high school and somehow being Found Out -- with Cordelia's fear in Season 1's Nightmares of being dragged into the chess club (which, at least in the language of television) is easy to read as a metaphor for being exposed as somebody who is secretly brainy and perhaps enjoys stereotypically academic or nerdy things. Just like Willow does, in fact.

Remember what Cordelia tells Buffy all the way back in Welcome To The Hellmouth when they run into Willow: "if you want to fit in here, the first rule is: know your losers". That is: Cordelia tells Buffy, the girl who she serves as a mirror of all season, that if she wants to fit in she'll have to choose not to be friends with Willow (and instead performatively belittle and bully her whenever she has an audience). Is it that much of a leap to suppose that a much younger Cordelia once learned that lesson herself?

[gildasfantasy]

Id really like to credit my friend panda for helping me out on editing my story because they noticed mistakes I made <3 besides I'd like to have new ideas so it you guys want me to do something new like, new ships or share your plot ideas it'd be great !! I do oc/yn X any character from any show and game and fluff+nsfw+angst ect!!

First times in a relationship's can be scary especially if everytime you've had sexual contact, it wasn't filled with love you so desperately craved

Husk and angel had formed a friendship after their bonding near the bar that night, it was clear to everyone that there was more than friendship between the two and after awhile they made their attraction be known and a loving relationship blossomed between them but they promised to never let this relationship out the hotel to reach the ears of Valentino, angels boss. Many months has passed since they made it official and they found themselves at the 8 month mark, husk being the awkward romantic he is, he wanted it to be something immensely special for angel just to show how much he genuinely loved him.. Husk examined the stores down the pathways of the somewhat busy area but no matter how hard he searched all he could find was bondage stores, lingerie stores ect; and he didn't want that, he didn't want angel to think he was just like all the rest of the men he had to deal with and additionally, husk wasn't a big.. sex fiend.. sure he got urges but he had boundaries and the thought of leather wear and overly threatening sex felt disgusting to him, so he despised these types of stores..eventually after a long day of trying to search he sighed, he'd been to every ring, even the lust ring, but still he hasn't found what he felt was right for angel, what was he supposed to get for someone that gorgeous? He was down on his luck til he heard two strangers talking down the sidewalk as if they were married and raised his head to look at the imps. One imp had black hair, 'a girl' he noted absent-mindedly, and the other imp had white hair, 'a guy'." 'excuse me? Sorry, I don't mean to listen in on you folks but am I right to assume you're both..?" "Together? Yea we're married' the white haired imp spoke, his voice kind of scratchy that made husks ears twitch ever so slightly, 'great! I need help, me and my boyfriends 8 month mark is comin' up and I can't find anything romantic.. everywhere I look it's just.. sex novels or over-the-top sexual stores.'

The black haired imp girl spoke excitedly, her southern accent bounced off of her husband's demeanor like a bouncy-ball on a whiteboard "Well hi thereee! You're alright to ask, sugar —"

"I'd suggest checkin' out LooLoo Land stores! Even though its a theme park they have the gosh darnedest cutest things, my mox got me a thang from there!' 'christ' husk thought to himself, already he formed a headache solely because of her loud voice but despite it, he thanked her, she was kind enough to help "thanks" *his deep voice grumbled but his expression was as if he were genuinely trying to force an awkward smile and eventually they changed paths and husk found himself on the way to the infamous looloo land, loud blaring music and the sound of kids screaming and crying made husk furrow his brows and groan but it was worth it to find something angel could love..perhaps after an hour of searching he found it.. a stand filled with stuffed animals and one caught his eye immediately.. a white bear with crossed out red eyes stitched in along with round red cheeks at each side of its smile,

he knew it'd be beyond perfect for his angel and he threw a coin at the stand-man, a determined look plastered on his face. Husk picked up the toy-gun and shot water at the wooden stands. No matter the amount of times he hit them though, the standman rigged the game and after draining his coin pocket dry, Husk had enough and tackled the man. Pulling him close by the collar and holding a sharp claw up to his neck. "Give me the fuckin' bear." He growled, and while he would usually never lose his composure, he was not going to let that bear be dangled in front of him. Feeling the man shudder with a nod, he backed away to let him grab his prize; the bear and his money back in full. He loved it, the texture of the bear and the way it felt on his fur made him know Angel would adore it. A proud look made its way to his face subtly and he walked out of the park happily, believing that to be enough from LooLoo land today. he deserved everything. Angel deserved the universe, in Husk's eyes and as he walked, he found his eyes gravitating towards a jumper on the way back home. It was beautiful; the jumper was white with flowers trailing up the sleeves in pink stitching and a heart cutout on the chest and on the back. It looked as if it was made for Angel, with a lighter wallet and a newfound bag in his claws, along with a bouquet of Devil-Eye flowers (Mammon Special!) he made his way back home. Husk smiled as he walked through those hotel doors and stood in front of sir pentiouses big portrait on the wall and sighed. "Wish me luck, buddy." he muttered as he made his way to the second floor of the hotel and faced the door of Angel's room, staring at the picture of his boyfriend and their friends. It made Husk's heart melt and his fur grow hot at the beauty of Angel. with courage that took a few minutes to tame, he twisted the doorknob and opened it to see his Angel sitting with a book in his top hands. He cleared his throat lowly and watched as Angel perked up and smiled, "Whiska's! Ya made it!" he said In disbelief

lord, Angel adored husk more than afterlife itself

He knew Husk was genuine, but a part of him still doubted he'd show up for their 8th month. He was pleasingly surprised to be wrong as he pecked both sides of Husk's face and massaged his fingers into his cheek fluff and slid them up to scratch behind his ears; causing Husk to purr and melt lovingly into his touch and for his leg to ever so slightly start thumping "ah what's this then husky, this fa' mee?" Angel said teasingly, his tone joking to ready himself to be wrong. Angel couldn't believe it, he nervously took the gifts and smiled at the bouquet 'husk' he spoke 'i don't know what ta' say..' his voice seemed much softer as he sat down in his bed, the silk curtains draped up and the pink lighting above set such a pretty tone to the scene.. he placed the flowers down against his bedside table before taking a look at the jumper, sliding straight into it and it fit so perfectly. Husk could barely believe his eyes, all four arms fit so perfectly and angel suited it so well, it made husk feel hot N heavy, his cheeks slightly pink tinted 'i knew you'd like it ange' " he smiled softly just before angels tears slipped, his hand covering one side of his face to wipe his tears.. husk didn't know how to respond, 'aye what's wrong ange'.. do you not like it? I can take it bac-" "no!- no I love it I just.. didn't.. expect it' he admitted with a smile.. the two of his arms connected to his waist wrapped around himself like a self hug.. his heart was racing and in that moment husk was the only one he cared for, the only one he ever wanted to be with and die with.. he placed a kiss against husks lips, but it was soft, like their lips had barley even touched.. and before he could respond again he made contact with the bear husk had 'won' for him and got ecstatic "huska' it looks like me' awh you big-' he immediately wrapped his arms around husk and buried his cheek into his head, his fingertips stroking his cheek.. Husk laughed and held angels back to pull him closer, like this hug wasn't enough contact for him.. in the moment it's like a piece of a puzzle finally clicked and he took a deep breath, pulling away and holding one of angels hand 'i.. want.. you to know I'm ready' he smiled and this confused angel, 'ready fa' what huskie..' he responded like his heart dropped to his stomach 'to be intimate with you' he whispered, his eyes drifting up to meet angels gaze 'oh.. huska' don't force ya'self for lil ol' me.. I can wai-" "no, I want this.. I want you but I don't know.. what, I'm doing.. I'm scared I'll embarrass myself y'know' he sighed as he traced his fingers through his hair to push it back, a huff leaving his lips and his eyelashes fluttering shut to avoid angels stare 'aright then but.. I.. can help, we all start somewhere yaknow?'

It'd been awhile since husk had been intimate with anyone, the last time he did he was alive and walking earth, but this felt so different because he WANTED to be perfect for angel.. so he smiled and took his boyfriends hands, and kissing him, a passionate, gentle kiss that burned straight through with not just love but lust too, for once angel felt genuinely... Turned on by the thought of sex and he slowly shuffled down, propping himself up on his bottom elbows while his other arms hoisted around husks neck, the dim room only lit by the pink lighting above angels bed had made it feel so much more perfect, husk, being the nervous guy he was didn't know where to touch him so instinctively he moved his hands up to hold angels chest fluff and immediately angel pushed back, panting with only drool stringing their lips together, 'shit, I'm sorry' husk said immediately before angel shook his eyes, eyes wide and breath heavy 'nono, husk it's okay I just want expecting it, it's hard to..' husk frowned and lay flat against angel, his head against his chest fluff 'we don't have to do this ange' trust me I'm not a sex-maniac, I'll wait til you can feel safer with this whole thing' he spoke reassuringly, his hands moving up to hold angels cheeks, swirling his thumb just under his eye 'husk, it's fine, I want this but it's hard to.. know what people are gonna do when all I've ever been through was abuse and unconsenting touchy sex yaknow..' 'yea I know sweetheart' husk lifted himself up a little, angels legs around his waist as he peppered soft kisses down his neck towards his arms 'ill be gentle with you my love.. let me show you what love is, trust me, all I ever want to make you feel is my love'

And with that angel smiled and nodded, his head slowly cocking back as a sign of angel giving himself over to husk, at this point they could hear their own heartbeats as well as each others heartbeat, the sensuality raising the heat through the roof as husk slipped off angels shorts..his hand sliding down his hips and down his v-line til eventually he found himself grasping at angels cock, slowly moving his hand in a up and down motion while undressing himself, angels moans felt like music to his ears, knowing he was capable of actually making angel feel good sent knots of love and lust into his gut and he craved so much more..

but at the same time, watching angels face, his brows furrow and his mouth agape, his pretty waist jolting up and his hips bucking into husks touch as if he wanted more friction, god he looked gorgeous like that and husk let his desires take control. He pulled his hand away and slid his arms under angels back with his palms behind angels head, fingers interlocked into his hair before finding himself entering angels hole, a groan leaving his lips while angel wrapped his arms around husk, their bodies close enough to make the heat somehow hotter, angel seemed to grip onto husks fur and pull like he needed even closer so husk obliged and pushed himself up against angel, his head buried in his chest fluff and loud purrs alongside moans escaped his lips, he was quite the sensitive man, not very aggressive dominant, and angel adored it, The shockwaves of love being pumped into angel overwhelmed him, when it was more loving, it just felt better to angel, he let this pleasure be known via his whimpers, moans, cries, whispered begs for more, not just that but his body reacted so strangely.. his legs twitched and perked up sometimes and his hips arched upwards, the spiders hands gently stretching behind husks ears 'good kitty' angel whispered 'fuck, my god' hmmnph.." be cried out quietly all the while husk slowly thrusted into angel, his dick twitching inside angel causing a reaction from both of them, husker tightened his hug like grip on angel, holding him closely 'i love you, i love you, god.. i love you angie..' he moaned in chants, his hips bucking and his hands squeezing his hair, gently tugging at it as he opened his mouth, drooling a little as he did so.

Angel let his head fall back and succumbed to husks movements and words, his eyes slowly drifting backwards and eventually his moans became so loud that they clogged his throat sometimes, he was choking on his own pleasure.. his legs squeezing around husks waist and his hands unable to comprehend where to hold next. He wanted all of husk so he tried to speak through his moans despite the struggle 'i love ya.. t..oo..gh..whiskas" he whined out just as he felt himself release on his own chest..his hand moving up to cover his mouth and muffle his pretty moans.. and the sight of that to husk sent electricity down his guts, and almost like a wild animal, his last thrusts became power filled and he moved his arms from under angel, he found himself squeezing under angels thighs while also lifting them up a little, and let himself vunerabalise, his semen filling angel quickly. He forgot how good it felt to be intimate like that with someone and it was enough to make them both moan while hugging at eachother tightly.. the relaxation setting in while they gently rode their high out together "Christ" husk huffed through a chuckle, slowly pulling away from angel and sitting up, his eyes focusing on the quite red and lovely spider Infront of him.. he finally faced his fear and he did it, he let himself be that vulnerable with someone, "You ain't gonna leave are ya?' angel said almost nervously, despite his broken speaking and loud breathing, there was a sense of seriousness and scarseness to it 'what? No, no, baby, I'm just gonna get ya something to eat.. I ain't gonna just have sex with ya and not treat ya like a prince after' he reassured while standing up, sliding on a dark red robe he left behind the last time he went to angels, a smile forming from ear to ear that made angel feel easy 'ya really doin' that fa' me?' he spoke back as he pulled up the silk bedsheets, not taking his eyes of husk the entire time.

'of course ange, sweetheart, you deserve it' husk responded while leaning in and laying a kiss on angels forehead

[f1nalboys]

Costume ; Mickey Altieri

first mickey full length fic i love he sm he’s actually deranged guys!!!! pls make sure to read warnings for this one!

Mickey Altieri x Fem!AFAB!Reader

WORD COUNT: 3837

WARNINGS: nsfw, dub-con (didn’t write it as such but just in case), post scream 1 and pre scream 2 events, ghostface mickey, knife play, blood play, roleplay, costumes, spitting, slapping, spanking, degradation, misogyny and slut shaming, creampie, doggy style, throat fucking, established relationship, home invasion roleplay, murderer/victim roleplay, predator/prey dynamics, mickey has the ghostface costume on for a little bit, glove kink?, oral (amab and afab receiving), multiple orgasms, fingering, underwear as a gag, reader gets cut, chase scene, mickey gets off on crying, mickey is a bad bf and a bad person, manipulation, toxic relationship, unhealthy relationship dynamics, not proofread

“You want to do what?” You were in bed with Mickey, head on his bare chest, curled into his side after a long day and you genuinely thought you had misheard him. He glances down at you and gives you a half smile, kissing your temple.

“I said I want to wear a costume next time we fuck.” He says it so simply, as though he were talking about the weather, that you can’t help but laugh a little. He frowns. “Saying no is much nicer than laughing, babe.”

Shaking your head, you sit up on your elbow staring at him. “Sorry, I was just laughing at the way you said it. What kind of costume? Like, do you want to do roleplay or something?” You were interested in the idea; in your short time dating Mickey, you’ve become privy to a lot more kinks than you were expecting him to have. Blood and knives were at the forefront of your sex life nowadays, but he hadn’t introduced anything knew in a few months. 

“Yeah, kind of. Wanna hear all the dirty details now or later?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. It was late, almost two am at this point, and the two of you had a long day tomorrow. “It won’t take long, baby. Plus, it’ll get you all amped up for when we do it.”

“Who says I’m gonna agree to it?”

“You’re a pervert, of course you’re gonna agree to it.” You snort, settling back into bed, laying your head back on his chest. You can hear his heart beating. “Alright. I was thinking I’d wear…” He grabs his phone from beside him, the light illuminating his sharp features, before turning it towards you. It was a black costume that reminded you of the Grim Reaper, the only difference being the mask. “This.”

You can feel his heartbeat speed up as he puts his phone back. “Isn’t that the Ghostface costume? From Woodsboro?” You whisper, choosing to keep your head down away from his gaze which you can feel burning a hole in your head. He hums, answering your question, and you take in a deep breath. “Oh. How come you chose that one?”

“Because it’s scary. And besides,” His hand, which was wrapping around your shoulder, moves to lay on the back of your neck, squeezing it slightly. Your heart skips a beat and he laughs under his breath. “It seems you kind of like it. Wanna hear the rest of the plan?”

Without waiting for an answer he begins, his voice low and level, his grip on your neck never letting up. “I’d wear it and wait in your apartment for you to come home. You’d come in, no idea I was there, and when you were comfortable, completely oblivious, I’d jump out. Chase you around with a knife, fuck you while you struggle, and you’d like it. Wouldn’t you?”

When Mickey asked a question, he expected an answer. “I don’t know, Mick… doesn’t that seem messed up? I mean, someone killed people wearing that.”

“So?” You sit up at this, staring at him with disgust settling in your stomach. You knew Mickey was morbid, both from his interest in the gory horror films and his interest in true crime, but you had never heard him be so… disinterested. “Oh come on, babe, don’t look at me like that! It’s awful people died, but that was a year ago, the assholes who did it are dead. Why should we let them ruin the costume?”

He sits up too, running a hand through his hair with a huff. Crossing your arms over your chest, you shake your head, your mind swimming. “Shit, Mickey! It’s fucked up, that’s why! We fucking go to school with Sidney and Randy, we’re friends with them, and you wanna parade around in the costume the people who tormented them wore?”

“If we stopped using or liking things serial killers liked, we wouldn’t have shit. I mean, Manson thought the fuckin’ Beatles were talking to him, does that mean we shouldn’t listen to ‘Hey Jude?’” He puts a hand on your cheek, thumb brushing across it in an attempt to soothe your anger. He had a point, you suppose, a weak one but a point nonetheless. “I won’t wear that costume if it bothers you that badly, alright?”

You sigh, exhausted. “Fine. We can do it but not that costume, Mickey, seriously.”

“Yes ma’am.” He wraps his arms around you again, holding you tight, as the two of you lay back down. Your heart is beating in tangent with him and he rests his chin on the top of your head. “Promise.”

--------------------

A few weeks later is when Mickey decides it’s time. You were gone for the day, supposed to come back to his place and crash, which was a plus, since people tended to be out on the weekend, leaving the dorm practically deserted. You texted him to let him know you were close, about five minutes out, and he gets ready.

Donning the costume and knife, he crawls into the coat closet by the front door, leaving it cracked just enough to see when you open the door. His phone, silenced, buzzes as you text him to let him know you’re home. The apartment was dark when you got inside, unusual for a Friday night. Mickey tended to be home on Friday in preparation to party all fucking day on Saturday, so you were immediately on edge, especially since he hadn’t texted you back. 

“Mickey? You home?” You call out, locking the door behind you and dropping your things off at the door. No answer. You flip the light switch on and sigh, trying to ignore the pit of anxiety growing in your stomach. The memory of your conversation with him plays in the back of your mind as you head into the kitchen, getting yourself a glass of water. Could tonight be the night he wanted to try this? 

No, probably not. He’d have given you some kind of warning, you thought to yourself, taking a few sips of your drink before turning around. In front of you, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, was Ghostface. The glass slips from your fingers, shattering onto the floor, and yet the masked figure doesn’t move.

“M-Mickey?” You ask, voice wavering. The figure shakes their head and you glance down to their hand and feel a wave of nausea hit you; a knife. They were holding a knife and they weren’t Mickey. “Mickey if that's you you better tell me right fucking now or I swear to god I’ll kill you.”

You know where the knives are; two drawers to your left. You’d be able to get to it before whoever it was got to you, but after that, who knows what could happen. The only time you’ve handled a knife was during sex with Mickey when he asked you to cut into him, carve your name onto his thigh like he had done to you. It’s a far cry from trying to defend yourself from a killer.

“You can scream all you want, sweetheart,” The person says and you internally sigh; it was Mickey. It had to be, only he called you that stupid pet name. But why the fuck was he wearing this costume? “No one’s around to hear you.” Before you can register what’s happening he lunges forwards, grabbing ahold of your arm and yanking you forwards.

He slices at your arm and you yelp, watching as blood pours from the wound. Mickey goes to cut you again but you dodge it, shoving him as hard as you can before making a break for the front door. You nearly trip as a shard of glass jams into the bottom of your foot, hobbling towards the front door as fast as you can.

When you reach it, your hands are shaking and you struggle to undo the locks. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Why’d you have to lock every single one of them? “Gotcha,” Mickey says, grabbing ahold of your hair and yanking you backwards. You fall back, hitting the hardwood floor, your elbow and hip getting a sharp pain through them.

He drags you across the floor, cursing as you attempt to get him to let go of your hair. You can feel the roots being pulled from your head and you’re crying, begging him to let you go. “Mickey, stop it! Stop, this isn’t fucking funny anymore,” You yell before he’s letting go of your hair and straddling you. The knife is pressed to your throat and your struggles cease immediately as the cold metal digs into your flesh.

“Say the word and I’m done,” He mutters into your ear, leaning down, the mask brushing across your cheek. He’s referring to the safe word and he waits for it. It doesn’t come. Under the mask he’s grinning, cheeks red from exertion and hair sticking to his forehead from sweat. “Of course not. A filthy whore like you wouldn’t want to stop, isn’t that right.”

“Mickey-’

“Shh.” The knife digs into your skin a little harder and you can feel the flesh break. You can almost see Mickey’s wicked grin when you let out a soft whimper at the feeling. “You can fight if you want. Makes it more fun for me,” 

“Wait! Wait, hang on!” You say and Mickey does so, surprisingly. You’d half expected him to continue despite your protests. “Please just take the mask off, Mick. I can’t… I can’t look at it.” He doesn’t move, doesn’t say a word, and you wonder if you had really said it out loud. “Please.” It’s quiet, barely audible, but it works. Mickey rips the mask off, tossing it to the side, before he’s back to the game.

He replaces the knife with his gloved hand, fingers squeezing the sides of your throat, and you can already feel the lack of oxygen. Tears were dried on your cheeks, hiccupping breaths cut off. “Please,” He mocks, other hand dragging the knife down your clothed chest lightly. “Fucking pathetic, y’know that? Here you are, getting off on this depraved fucking game, but a costume is too much.” 

He laughs at his own comment and you feel the heat begin to pool between your legs. You hated this part, where he made fun of you, made you feel awful, as if he weren’t enjoying it just as much. It made you feel dirty, disgusting. And maybe you were. Mickey lets go of your throat and you suck in a breath, lungs burning from the oxygen. You watch as he licks a stripe up his hand, a thing layer of blood coating his tongue.

“Fuck, you taste good, y’know that? Always forget how sweet you taste till I do this.” He grabs your face roughly and you can feel the blood spreading across your face. His grip tightens and you let out a whine, squeezing your eyes shut. It hurt and he was glad it did. “Almost as sweet as that cunt of yours. Want me to touch you? You want me to make you feel good?”

“Yes, fuck, please,” You get out, eyes opening, trying to ignore the disgust that goes through you. It couldn’t be bad if it felt this good, could it? Letting go of your face, Mickey lifts his costume up and you attempt to move your hands out from under his legs. He had them pinned to your side, an attempt to stop you from struggling, and you just want to touch him.

He slaps you, hard, your face stinging. Tears burn at your eyes again and he repeats it two more times. Your cheek hurts so bad now and when he goes to do it again you flinch hard. “Don’t fucking move. I’m doing this for me, you understand? I don’t give a fuck if you feel good or not. Now,” He pulls his costume back up and tosses the knife to the side, just out of your reach, and unbuttons his jeans. “Open your whore mouth.”

Mickey pulls his cock out, having forgone underwear, and sits up. The weight he had put on your stomach eases up and you take in a deep, much needed breath, before he’s shoving it down your throat. He lets out a loud moan as he goes further into your throat, one hand holding his costume up and the other pressing down on your throat. 

He sets a fast and brutal pace, reveling in the feeling of his cock moving in and out of your throat. There’s not much you can do besides focus on not throwing up, gagging as he shoves his cock further down your throat with each thrust. “Fuuuuck, your mouth feels so good,” He grunts, looking down and grinning. You had tears pouring from your eyes, spit and snot covering the bottom half of your face. “And the fucking noises you make, bet you’re, shit! Bet you’re fuckin’ soaked just from having my dick down your throat.”

He pulls out of your mouth, spitting on you as you cough, and another wave of shame goes through you at that. When Mickey got like this it was like he was a different person, treating you like you were nothing but a hole for him to fuck. Your head is swimming, vision slightly blurred, and you don’t register as he throws the costume off of himself. 

“Suck.” He says, shoving three of his gloved fingers into your mouth. You gag at the intrusion, recovering quickly, before doing your best to coat his fingers with spit. You can taste the blood on them. “Good little slut. Want me to use these on you, don’t you?” You nod quickly, swirling your tongue around his digits sloppily. Drool was spilling from your mouth still and you want to beg him to fuck you already but the throbbing in your cheek stops you. 

You try your best to keep still as he gets off of you, yanking at your pants quickly. When they’re at your ankle he gives you a grin, grabbing your shoulder and forcing you around until you are on your stomach. The air is cold on your bar legs and you’re painfully aware of how bad you were aching, how wet you were. It didn’t go past Mickey, either, if his cruel laugh was any indication.

“Fucking soaked,” He grunts and you hear the clink of the knife as he picks it up from the floor. He drags it flat against your ass, following the curve of it down your thigh. You shudder. “You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you? Pathetic, fucking disgusting. What if someone really broke in here, tried to kill you? You’d probably sink to your knees to get their cock in your mouth.”

Mickey slips the knife under your underwear and cuts it, ripping the fabric off of your other leg. “Be honest, you’d use that cunt of yours to get out alive and you’d like it, wouldn't you?

“Yes! Yes, I would, Mickey, please. Please fuck me already I need you,” You beg, near to tears, and he laughs, hand coming and holding your head down onto the floor. He bundles the cut underwear up, holding it over your mouth, and you know what he’s asking of you. Your mouth opens and he shoves them inside, the taste of your arousal filling your mouth. 

“Fucking whore needs her holes filled, doesn’t she?” You nod quickly, wiggling your hips, and he slices the back of your thigh with the knife. You howl in pain, your arms coming to rest by your head in a desperate attempt to keep them from moving. Mickey hushes you as he wipes the blood across your thighs, tracing over the scarred over name on your hip. “I own you. I can do whatever I want to you and you’d let it happen because I’m the only one who can make you feel good.”

He shoves two fingers inside your soaked cunt without warning and you groan at the stretch, the burn, and it only amplifies as he sets a quick pace. He was hitting the spot inside you that had you feeling lightheaded and you can’t help but move your hips back slightly to meet him in the middle. Mickey lets it happen, enjoying how pathetic you looked, face down on the floor covered in blood, spit, and tears and loving it.

You were close, so fucking close, squeezing around his fingers and you cry out when he pulls his fingers from your cunt. Your protests are muffled by your underwear but you let Mickey maneuver you. He positions you so you were face down ass up and he pushes your legs apart, his mouth instantly attaching to your cunt.

Mickey loved eating you out. He loved the noises you made, the way you would grind back against him, the way you tasted. He especially loved the times he got you to squirt and made it a mission to make it happen again and again, covering his face and cock with it. He was addicted to it, to you, and you knew it. 

These were the times when you could have some power back over him. No matter how dominant he’d be, when he got his mouth on your pussy he was putty in your hands, letting you ride his face for as long as you’d like, letting you call him all sorts of names. 

Your moans were muffled and that wasn’t good enough for Mickey. “Take them out of your mouth,” He says, pulling away from you for a few seconds before lapping at your slit again. “Need to hear how desperate you are to cum on my face, sweetheart.” You oblige immediately, yanking the fabric out of your mouth and letting out a loud moan, bucking your hips back against his warm mouth.

“Oh my fucking god, Mickey, fuck! Please, your fucking tongue, just like that. Just like that baby, m’so close, wanna cum soooo badly,” You whine and he hums against you, his hands kneading your ass. He knew everything about you. From the way your cunt would squeeze around his tongue and fingers, how your whole body seemed to shake, how your breathing sped up; he knew when you were about to cum.

By the grace of God he lets you finish, sucking your clit into his mouth as you do so. He doesn’t let up until you’re a quivering mess, jolting with each flick of his tongue. “Fuck you taste so good,” He says, grabbing your hair and yanking you up. The kiss is rough and sloppy, tongues swirling together and interrupted by panting. “M’gonna fuck you right here and you’re gonna love it. Gonna cum in you, fill you to the fuckin’ brim.”

He’s talking to you as if you’re not really there, pulling his jeans down fully, and then he’s sliding inside you, his hips flush against yours. “Fuck! Fuck you’re so big,” You say; while Mickey knew everything about you, you knew everything about him. He loved the praise you gave him after he treated you like this, how you gave yourself to him entirely. He loved when you tried taking control, too, because he loved putting you in your place.

“Yeah? M’stretching your cunt, aren’t I?” His thrusts are bordering on painful, your back against his chest, but you didn’t care. All you cared about was the way he felt inside you, the filth he was whispering into your ear. “So fucking tight. Gotta fuck you more, should be stretched. This fucking pussy, Christ. Fucking amazing.”

He pushes you down so you are back on the floor with your ass up and he’s hitting deeper inside you than you ever thought possible. “Oh fuck! I’m so close, Mickey, baby, oh god. Please don’t stop,”

“Not stopping till you’re fucking leaking.” He spanks you hard, shuddering, so close himself. His gloved hand wraps around your waist and begins to circle your clit quickly, needing to feel you cum before he does. “Come on, be a good slut and cum for me, alright? Unless you wanna be punished? Hm? Fucking cock hungry bitch wants me to cut into her?”

You cry out his name as you cum, legs shaking, and he keeps fucking you, abandoning your clit in favor of gripping your hips and slamming you further down onto his cock. When he cums he moans, head tilting back. He makes sure he’s fully inside you and you can feel him coating your insides. 

He takes a few deep breaths before pulling out, watching as his cum drips from your pussy. You nearly collapse onto the floor when he lets go of your hips and he laughs. Tucking himself back into his pants he sits down next to you, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “You alright, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, m’fine.” You say. You were exhausted. The adrenaline that started from the second you saw him in his costume was gone now and all you wanted to do was sleep. The costume. The thought has you forcing yourself to sit up, wincing at the cuts and bruises you now have to nurse. “You fucking asshole!

“Huh?” His eyebrows furrowed together, genuinely confused. You grab the mask and shove it at him, standing on shaky legs. “Oh, this. Baby, I’m sorry! I tried finding another costume, really, but I couldn’t! This was the only one they had!”

“Right, they only had your sick fucking costume in stock.” You spit, hissing as you yank the piece of glass out of your heel. It had been there for god knows how long, thankfully not too deep. You limp towards the bathroom, fuming.

He sighs, following after you and grabbing you by your shoulders to force you to face. Him. “I’m serious. I tried to find one that was similar but they were all sold out, swear. C’mon, you’re really gonna be pissed at me for this when I tried?”

Mickey pulls you in for a hug, kissing your temple, and you melt into his touch. “Maybe I’m being overdramatic…” You say against his shoulder. He was thankful that you couldn’t see the big smile he had on his face. “Sorry, it just freaked me out, is all.”

“It’s alright, I forgive you.” Another thing he loved about you is how you always seemed to apologize to him. It made things much easier. “I should’ve told you, though. I’m sorry too, baby. C’mon, let me get you cleaned up.”

“Alright. Hey,” You say, pulling away from the hug and poking him lightly in the chest. “You better throw that thing out, alright? Sid and Randy would have a fucking heart attack if they saw it.”

He nods, turning you around and leading you to the bathroom, mind drifting. Fat fucking chance, sweetheart. He had plans for that costume, after all.

[saintlike78]

Little one [L.M.]

A/N: This is an au where both Voldy (mr. no-nose) and Narcissa don’t exist. Lucius is just mean, but not evil, yk

Pairing: Lucius Malfoy x fem! reader

Words: 3.4k

Summary: You start your internship at the ministry, working for the infamous Lucius Malfoy. You’re scared after only having heard horrible things about the man, but will your opinion change. (Take a lucky guess)

Warnings: NSFW! 16+, vaginal sex, oral (fem receiving), overstimulation, mention of cum, soft dom! Lucius, slight implication of older man/younger woman, slight sir kink, intern reader. As always lmk if I missed anything.

Fixing and smoothing out your skirt, you took one last look in the mirror before releasing a long nervous sigh and headed out the door. Your internship at the ministry was starting today and you could feel the bubbles of anxiety in your stomach churning, your hands slightly clammy at the thought of who you were interning with - none other than the infamous Lucius Malfoy.

You had almost cried when you received the owl carrying the letter to inform you who you’d be interning with, having only heard horrible things about the man.

You’d heard that he was rude, mean, and had absolutely no patience, especially not with interns such as yourself, his last three interns having quit within the first week of working for him.

——

Your body was trembling slightly, your heart beating out of your chest as you stepped off the elevator and into the long hallway.

The doors were tall and dark, emphasizing that behind them sat important wizards, more important than you would ever be.

You walked past three doors before you were met with one with bold gold lettering spelling out ‘Lucius Malfoy’.

You took a deep breath, lifting your hand slowly before knocking on the door loud enough for it to be heard on the other side.

“Enter,” a dark voice announced from the opposite side of the door.

You took another breath before opening the large door with shaky hands; you almost toppled over from the weight of the door, but you managed to enter the office without embarrassing yourself.

The office was bigger than you could’ve ever imagined, the interior decorated with a black, green, and silver color scheme - the owner had obviously been a Slytherin during their time at Hogwarts.

Your eyes looked all around the room taking in all of the expensive detail such as a black marble fireplace and a reading area the size of a small library, lastly, your attention fell on the grand black wooden desk placed in front of the large window. Your breath hitched when your eyes finally landed on the man seated behind the desk; his long blond hair falling to rest upon his black coat, his figure proud and tall even in his seated form. His icy eyes burned into you, looking you over and raising an eyebrow.

“Are you done looking around, girl?” his unimpressed tone pulled you out of your trance, your heart pounding once more.

“Yes, I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy,” you apologized, your fingers fiddling behind your back to keep away the anxiety.

“Hmm, and who might you be?” Even though he was the one asking the question, his slow bored tone made him seem less interested than if he’d kept quiet.

“My name is y/n… I’m an intern… I’m supposed to be taught by you, I got an owl explaining everything… maybe there’s been a mis-“ your rambling was cut off by a raise of Lucius’ hand, your mouth instantly clamping shut.

“I am well aware of the… internship program,” he said with disgust, “well get over here and make yourself useful.”

With a few quick steps, you were standing in front of his desk, looking at him and waiting for instructions.

“What you would you have me do, sir?”

He pointed at the chair beside you, then at a stack of paper on your side of the desk, “I’ll only be explaining how to do this once… I will not be disturbed when I am working, you will keep your mouth shut and do your work, and then maybe you’ll be able to get through the month.”

You nodded quickly and listened to him explain how to do your work; he explained slow and simple as if you were a child, his voice still unimpressed.

“Now, get on with it,” he dismissed you, your head quickly dipping to focus on the paperwork in front of you as he went back to his own work, silence soon filling the large office.

——

You were afraid to make even the tiniest of sounds, but you found that the silence was a comfortable one - Lucius wasn’t as scary in silence.

The silence was interrupted by a loud knock on the door, your head shooting up to look at the door, but Lucius’ focus was still on his work.

“What?” he grumbled, loud enough for the person on the other side to hear.

The door opened slowly, a young nervous-looking man, holding a cup, entered the office.

“Mr. Malfoy, s-sir, I’ve got your c-coffee,” he stuttered, his hands trembling as he reached the desk, giving you a glance and a sympathetic smile, before placing down the coffee.

Lucius didn’t say a word, only stopping his writing to grab the cup and bringing it to his lips as he took a small sip. You found yourself oddly mesmerized as you looked at him; you couldn’t deny that he was awfully attractive, but you quickly shook your head burying that thought deep down.

His naturally displeased face turned into one of disgust, his lips turned down in a scowl.

“Are you that incompetent that you cannot remember a simple order? Once again it is wrong,” his tone was laced with distaste, his right hand grabbing his cane before loudly banging it against the floor causing both you and the young assistant to jump.

“If I were you, I wouldn’t bother coming into work tomorrow or ever again,” he said calmly, but still with his naturally disgusted tone.

With another bang to the floor, he raised his voice, almost to a yell, “now… get out!”

The young man bowed, almost comically, before practically running out of the office, shutting the door behind him.

Lucius let out a displeased ‘humph’ before letting his focus go back to the work in front of him, his finger tapping gently on the wooden desk.

Your eyes were still trained on his face, not sure what to think, but knowing to not cross him.

“I’d advise you to get back to work and quit your staring, girl… unless you want to also not come back tomorrow,” Lucius said without even looking up at you.

You were slightly embarrassed to have been caught staring, but quickly went back to your work as to not agitate him further, mumbling an almost silent, “I’m sorry, sir.”

As your focus went back to your work, you missed the small smirk that played at Lucius’ lips.

——

A week had passed and already you felt much more comfortable in the presence of the tall intimidating man, the silence that filled the office every day comforting to you as you did your work.

Throughout the week you had dared to ask him for help a couple of times; the first time he had helped you with a displeased frown, but each time he helped he seemed less hostile and more willing. One of the times there had been a problem you were too inexperienced to fix by yourself and Lucius had made you move your chair to the opposite side of his desk to sit beside him, to look over you and help. You were surprised that when you went to move your chair back he stopped you with a raised hand, “you might need more help with this problem and I do not want to listen to the scraping of the chair again.”

You were even more surprised when you had moved the chair back, only to find it beside his chair the next morning, a small space cleared out for you on his desk, giving you enough room to work beside him.

——

More days passed and you found yourself in quiet conversation with the man, small fleeting smiles shared, much to your surprise and pleasure.

He was much more pleasant the more you conversed, the more time you spent with him in that office.

One day, you left the office with him to deliver some of your paperwork and grab some more for you, you having worked faster than anticipated and finished the prescribed paperwork before your deadline.

Stepping off of the full elevator you had to maneuver yourself between numerous amount of people, the ministry bustling with hard-working wizards.

Lucius had placed a large hand, the one not holding his cane, on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd. You looked up at him in surprise, but his gaze was set forward, his icy composure never leaving him outside of the office, yet you felt the warmth from his hand and warmth on your cheeks from the blush.

You made your way through the ministry, successfully dropping off and gathering new paperwork.

On your way back to the office you ran into a pair of Lucius’ more respectable colleagues - respectable in the sense that it was the colleagues he respected enough to converse with.

You stood silently beside Lucius as he spoke with the two men about Merlin knows what, that was until one of the men acknowledged you.

“So is this a new one?”

Your head snapped up, confusion written on your face, having no idea what he meant. Lucius placed a hand on your shoulder, giving it a subtle squeeze only noticeable to you.

“Yes, but this one has at least lasted longer than a week,- not as incompetent as the last ones,” he grumbled and you understood that they were talking about the previous interns, feeling a little dumb for the quick feeling of jealousy that had passed through you.

You nodded slowly and smiled at the men before yourself and Lucius trudged the rest of the way back to his office.

You entered the office with Lucius close behind you, closing the door softly.

You made your way over to his desk to set down the paper, placing them gently down with your back to Lucius, not hearing as his steps came closer to you.

“What was that back there?” Lucius questioned, his tone as gentle as it could be.

You were about to answer, but your breath caught in your throat when you turned around and you were staring directly into the chest of Lucius Malfoy, your neck craning to look at his face.

“I-I… what do you mean?” You stuttered, trying to compose yourself and not focus on the closeness of his being.

“Don’t play dumb now, little one,” he smirked, “I know jealousy when I see it.”

He pressed you against his desk, cupping your cheek with one hand before leaning down to be level with your face.

“Why were you jealous, my girl?” he whispered, the smirk still evident on his much too smug face.

You shivered at the nickname, “I-I wasn’t,” your face was red, your voice was low almost a whisper.

“Hmm, don’t lie to me,” Lucius spoke, his tone reminding you of his superiority as he rested his cane against the desk and used his now free hand to squeeze your hip.

“I’m sorry,” you said as you broke your eye contact, feeling slightly embarrassed, cheeks burning under his intense gaze.

“Look at me, little one, no need to feel embarrassed,” he stroked your cheek softly.

You hesitated a moment before meeting his gaze once more, his eyes soft as he looked down upon you.

You swallowed down your nerves, your mind not fully being able to comprehend that this was happening, but you tried to ground yourself slightly by reaching your hands up to rest upon his shoulders.

“Lucius, please,” you whimpered, earning yourself another smug smirk from the man in front of you, but your whine was the only confirmation he needed before he leaned down to connect your lips.

The kiss was anything but slow, your mouths working hungrily against one another as your bodies melded together. Your arms were holding him close around his neck, your hands grabbing onto the black fabric of his jacket. His hands were placed firmly on your waist, his fingers digging into the soft flesh; he used the grip on you to lift you onto the desk, your legs instantly spreading for him to get in between.

Your whine broke the kiss, your hips bucking involuntarily into his for friction. He chuckled, both of you breathless, his grip on your hip tightening to keep you in place.

“So desperate, little one,” he taunted, lightly grinding his hips into yours, a gasping moan ripped from your throat.

He picked at the hem of your skirt, “you’ve been driving me mad with all these small skirts of yours,” he said as he slowly started hiking your skirt up enough for your soaked panties to be visible for him.

“Is this okay,” he asked, pecking your lips a couple of times, waiting for your consent to continue with what he had planned.

“Yes, more than okay, Lucius,” you nodded quickly, leaning in to reconnect your lips in another heated kiss.

Your hands ran through his hair, feeling the silky blond strands between your fingers as he snuck his tongue into your mouth to work against yours.

Lucius broke the kiss, too soon in your opinion, which you made clear with a whine.

“Patience, my sweet girl,” he said with a grin; you tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear as you stared into his eyes, waiting for him to continue.

Slowly he got down on his knees before you, hiking your skirt up with a lift of your hips, your heart was beating fast with anticipation.

He placed a thumb right on the center of your panties before releasing a pleased hum, “look at that, all wet for me.”

You let out a small whimper, “Lucius, please.”

“What do you want? Use your words, little one,” he smirked.

Your cheeks burned, “please, want you to… taste me.”

His smile was wide as he dragged your panties down your legs, “good girl, such good manners,” he praised.

Lucius wasted no time, leaning in to place a kiss on your aching clit, pulling the nub between his teeth gently sucking before using his tongue to put pressure on it.

Your breath caught in your throat at the actions and multiple moans could be heard throughout the large office, your hands gripping his hair while also keeping him in place. His arms reached under your thighs, holding you to his face, his hands squeezing at the smooth flesh.

“Oh, my gods, Lucius,” you moaned, head tipping back as his tongue went in circles around your clit occasionally stopping to put pressure on it or to softly kiss the nub.

Shutters ran up your spine as you grew closer to the familiar feeling of an orgasm, your eyes fluttering slightly at the effort of keeping them open. Your right hand had moved from his hair to grab onto the top of his hand on your thigh; his hand loosened its grip on you, letting you place your hand under his, holding onto it for comfort.

“Lucius, I’m gonna cum,” you announced through moans, but it only made Lucius pull away from your drenched, pulsing cunt, prompting a disapproving whine to leave your mouth.

“Remember to use your manners, little one, that’s not how we ask for the things we want,” he scolded lightly, leaning into kitten lick at your clit to keep you right on edge.

“I’m sorry… please, may I cum, sir?”

Lucius smirked and hummed in content, “go ahead love,” he gave his approval before he dove back in, suckling at your clit till you were shaking in pleasure.

The pressure snapped, a loud moan torn from your throat as you came all over Lucius’ tongue, which he used to lick up everything you produced for him. Your hand gripped his tighter as he worked you through your orgasm, your vision blurred and your cunt pulsing around the air.

He gave one last kiss to your clit, making you jolt before he unhooked his arms from under your thighs and stood up to tower over you once more. He used his thumb to wipe away the wetness on his chin before guiding it to your mouth prompting it to open for him, suckling your release off his finger.

“Are you ready to take my cock in that sweet little cunt of yours, my sweet?” he asked to which you nodded furiously, with his thumb still in your mouth.

“Ah ah, words, darling,” he said with a stern look, “tell me what you want.”

He removed his thumb from your mouth to let you answer him, “fuck me, please.”

He chuckled at your bluntness but chose to let it slide as he reached down to free his painfully hard cock from his trousers.

With it freed, he lifted you with his hands hooked under your arms; you immediately wrapped your legs around his hips and clung to him as he moved you over to a wall of the office. He placed you against it, wrapping an arm behind your back holding you to him, his other hand placed behind your head.

He maneuvered your body down, his cock sliding into you with ease, both of you releasing simultaneous breaths of satisfaction.

He waited a moment for you to permit him to move, but your impatient nature shone through when you started moving your hips, trying to bounce the best you could in the position you were in. Lucius chuckled but understood and started moving, bucking into you, taking over for you.

You moaned, the overstimulation running through you at every thrust of his hips to yours. The feeling of his cock sliding into you slowly to savor the moment, his arm keeping you close to him and his hand holding onto the back of your head to keep you from banging against the wall, it was all heaven.

“You’re taking me so well, little one,” Lucius grunted, his thrusts picking up speed, to bring you both closer to your release.

Your fingers gripped onto his jacket tightly as your whimpers and moans picked up the frequency, “L-Lucius.”

You fell forward, burying your face in the crook of his neck as you felt yourself grow closer after each thrust of his hips, his hand followed your head, holding onto you tightly.

The tip of his cock deliciously prodded at your g-spot, his pubic bone dragging over your clit creating mind-numbing friction and you clenched around him.

He understood and picked up his speed, leading you right to the edge.

“Lucius, please may I cum?” You pleaded between moans, wishing desperately to be tipped over the edge he had left you on.

“Go on, cum for me, my sweet girl.”

With his permission you were over the edge in seconds, your body shaking and twitching in his strong grasp; your cunt pulsed around him as he thrust you through your release, but the sounds of your moans and the feeling of your warm walls milking him prompted his release.

He gave a couple of hard thrusts before he stilled and released a long deep moan, filling you with his warm seed. You moaned at the feeling, unburying your head to be face to face with him once more, leaning in to connect your lips in a slow kiss as he worked you both through your orgasms.

After he was done filling you up, he walked you over to the desk again, pulling out and setting you down slowly on shaky legs, yet he kept his arms around you to make sure you didn’t collapse. He grabbed the cane resting against the desk to collect his wand and clean you and himself up before he tucked himself away and bent down to grab your panties that were thrown on the floor.

He helped you put them on, tapping each of your feet to get them through and up your legs; Lucius kissed your thigh before rising to his full height again to smile softly at you.

“I still have work to do,” he stated, but he regret his tone after seeing your face drop ever so slightly in your bleary headspace.

“Oh, of course… do you want me to leave?” you avoided his eyes as you asked the question, afraid that he would say yes.

Lucius let out a light chuckle and shook his head, “of course not, you’ll stay here, darling girl.”

He hooked his hands under your arms once more, lifting you up, making you wrap your limbs around him once again. He walked around the desk towards his chair, sitting down on it with you, he turned you sideways on his lap so you could watch him work if you wanted to, but also giving you the freedom to just rest on him.

You watched his face, memorizing his features, thinking back to how nervous he made you, how scary he seems to everyone else and how lucky you were to have been granted access to a whole other side of him, only for you.

Tags: @teenwolfbitches28, @emma67, @sprucewoodlover, @i-love-scott-mccall, @pottahishotasf, @mjoubertt-1, @methblinds, @maraudersbijj, @samaraaaaa,

[lucyintheskywithxanax]

At 11:08pm In The Music Room, I Was Saved (Part 2)

Pairing: Wilhemina Venable x Fem Reader

Part 1

A/N: second and last part, lovelies. Thank you again anon for this prompt (I may have, once again, deviated from your original idea bear with me), and thank you @venablemayfairgoode for helping me figure out the end (tw: the death of a dog is mentioned :))))))) ). As always, English isn’t my first language. x

Word count:  ≈ 7 000

You were so fucking pissed. Also, you couldn’t stop crying. The world had ended on a beautiful late spring afternoon and now, for some reason, you were trapped in a gloomy building with people you didn’t know and the woman who had broken your heart bossing you around.

And the worst was, you had been so relieved to know she had survived. And you shouldn’t have. But the tears you had cried on the plane to Outpost 3 had not only been for your family and friends; they had also been for her. They had mostly been for her. And you hated yourself because of that.

She looked different. Her clothes were darker, her hair was darker, her eyes were darker and they were glazed. They looked as if they were made of stone. Tourmaline maybe. Something bad must have happened to her, but you decided you didn’t care. Bad things had happened to you, too, and one of them she had caused.

“There’s been a mistake,” she said, voice very deep and very slow. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I don’t want to be here,” you sobbed.

“You were assigned at Outpost 2.”

You were so mad at her. Had she done this? Ripped you from your family and sent you to this dark place to spend the rest of your life consumed by grief and guilt and hatred? She couldn’t have done this, she wouldn’t have done this but then again and was that panic in her eyes? It was gone before you had time to take a good look at it, but you knew her. You knew how to read her.

“Why are you here?” she asked, as if you had chosen to, as if it had been your decision.

“Because some rude guys barged into my flat and shoved me into a plane,” you sobbed, wiping your nose on the back of your hand. “I don’t want to be here,” you repeated.

“You should’ve been sent to Outpost 2,” she said. She was trying so hard to hide the confusion from her face, but you saw it, and you saw that flash in her eyes again and it was panic.

Suddenly it hit you: how could she know where you should have been sent? How could she –

“Did you…” It was hard to speak. Your throat was too tight. Your eyes widened with horror, and hers hardened. “Are you the reason why I’m here?”

You were vaguely aware that everyone else in the room was staring at you and Wilhemina. You should have felt ill-at-ease, should have felt shy. But all you could feel was anger.

“I don’t want to be here!” you cried again, but this time it was fierce. This time it was a cry of rage.

Wilhemina tapped her cane on the ground. The sound echoed off the walls.

“Better sad than dead,” she said coldly. And then she proceeded to ignore you as she explained the house rules.

You barely heard what she said. You were burning, and you couldn’t stop your tears from falling. This was not happening. You were in a dream. You would wake up and everything would be alright. You would count to ten and the nightmare would end.

You counted to ten. It didn’t end.  

What you did hear of Wilhemina’s speech sounded ridiculous. No technology? No sex? Death punishment for intimacy? People basically being your slaves? Her eyes were too cold. They were glazed. This wasn’t the Wilhemina you knew. The Wilhemina you knew had used cruelty for protection. This one used cruelty for fun.

A few people protested, but the protests didn’t last long. This Wilhemina was just as scary as the one you knew.

And then she was leaving, to the sound of her cane, every tap a stab to your heart. A Grey led you to your room and you collapsed on your bed, hugged your pillow, and cried.

The next few days you didn’t leave your room often. You felt so empty. You spent most of your time lying on your bed and grieving the people you had lost. You got up for lunch and dinner. Sat at the table and stared at your plate as the others tried to make small talk. The food cube had no taste. It felt like jelly in your mouth. You hated it. You hated having to swallow it. You hated how it never soothed the hunger in your stomach.

You sat on the left side of the table. Wilhemina sat at the head of it. The light from the candles would glint off your food cube and fork. Coco sat on your left, a girl named Mary on your right. Coco would do most of the talking. Complaining, really. Sometimes – but only sometimes – you would glance in Wilhemina’s direction. Once or twice, she met your eyes. Hers were cold and like a black hole.

After the first week your tears finally subsided. You spent more time in the music room with the others, playing board games, reading, talking. Coco was a bitch, but she made you laugh, and you soon befriended the girl named Mary. She was about your age, was very shy and didn’t speak often. She kept in her pocket a photo of the dog she had owned and loved more than anything else, a small, sweet thing with big black eyes named Sam.

You didn’t know how Wilhemina spent her days. You barely ever saw her. You could forget her, you thought, if you didn’t dream of her every night. You would forget her if only your stupid heart would stop skipping a beat and break into a gallop every time you heard the familiar sound of her cane, letting you know she was coming, she was coming! in a second you would see her and be near her and hear her voice. You would forget her if she wasn’t your first thought every damn morning when you woke up. If when she was near you, you didn’t feel like you were burning and suddenly became aware of every single sound that was her, the rustle of her dress, her breathing, her heart beating, her eyelashes fluttering, everything.

You barely ever saw her, but when you did, time stopped, and it lasted forever.

You fell into a routine. Aimless, dreary. Getting out of bed every morning. Eating your food cube. Making small talk with the other residents. A teary-eyed Mary showing you her picture of Sam. Trying not to think, not to remember. It went on like this for a week and a half, until two Greys were found having sex and were sentenced to death.

It was Mary who told you the news, just before dinner. At first you thought she was joking. But then every soul at the Outpost was talking about it and even Coco seemed scared.

You didn’t know the Grey girl, but you had spoken to the boy once or twice. His name was Mark. He smiled at you every time you would meet him in a corridor.

You ate your food cube in complete silence and shock. When dinner was over, when Wilhemina stood up and walked off, you didn’t think. You stood up, too, and followed her.

She didn’t become aware of your presence until she was halfway down the corridor to her room. You saw her slow down, come to a halt. She tapped her cane on the floor, then turned on her heel.

Time slowed down. You noticed every detail, even the smallest ones. The way the candlelight glided over her cheekbones as she turned. You were still so attuned to her, every inch of her.

You stopped breathing as her eyes locked with yours. And it would have been so easy, to take a step forward, to wrap your arms around her waist, to pull her close and go back home. It seemed her eyes were pleading you to do just that.

But then she blinked, and her eyes turned cold. Glazed. Tourmaline. You felt your body stiffen.

“May I speak to you?” you asked, almost a hiss. Then you added, “Ms Venable.”

She narrowed her eyes slightly at you, raised her chin. “I do not care to hear what you have to say,” she said coldly.

You took a step forward and snarled, “I will say it. You can either listen to me here, or in your room. Office. Whatever.”

Her nostrils flared, and for a second you thought she was going to slap you. You had seen her slap some of the other residents who had dared question her rules. That was one of the things the new Wilhemina had no problem doing.

But she merely nodded, almost imperceptibly, and led you to her room.

You tried not to look. At the bed, perfectly made, at the pillow where she laid her head every night. At the vanity where she did her hair and make-up every morning. All the small rituals you knew so well.

It hurt. Merely standing there in her room felt like someone was crushing your heart between cold fingers.  

You came to a halt in the middle of the room and tried to swallow past the lump in your throat. Wilhemina stopped in front of you, rested both her hands on the head of her cane.

How did she look so different? Why was her face so hard and so cold? She reminded you of the ancient statues of Greek or Italian gods. The powerful, lifeless stare. The dangerous power. How she could destroy you – how she had destroyed you – with one word or one tap of her cane on the floor.

You searched her face for the light, for the fear, for the love, the shyness and the boldness, the desire to be completely, truly seen and loved. You found nothing.

“Well?” she asked, annoyed, after a while.

You cleared your throat. “I heard you’re gonna have Mark and that Grey girl executed tomorrow morning.”

“You heard right,” she mocked.

You cleared your throat again. Your right hand twitched at your side. “Why?”

She made an annoyed noise. “You know why. They didn’t follow the rules. They put their own little disgusting needs first and compromised the group. We cannot have more mouths to feed.”

“Disgusting needs,” you repeated automatically. You took one step towards her and raised your head defiantly. “I don’t remember you calling sex ‘disgusting’ when we were doing it.”

Something flashed in her eyes. Something that almost looked familiar.

“Don’t be crude,” she hissed.

“You cannot have those two Greys killed,” you went on, ignoring her. “That’s murder, Wilhemina.”

Her name dropped from your mouth before you had time to think. You paused. She didn’t react.

“I know you’re better than that,” you added, taking another step towards her. Closer. You wanted to reach out and touch her. It seemed to you she was leaning forward, forward – towards you. It seemed to you her eyes flicked to your lips.

How you had missed her. How you missed her still. How you wanted to grab her by the shoulders and shake her and demand an explanation as to why she had destroyed your world, stolen all the stars from your night sky. How had she dared, who did she think she was, and what had happened to her that had stolen all the light from her eyes?

“For God’s sake, Wilhemina,” you cried when still she didn’t react, didn’t speak, didn’t move, “you can’t kill two people for being in love!”

“Why not?”she hissed, low and dangerous, like a snake.”What’s so special about love?”

“You know what’s so special about love. You felt it.” A pause. “And don’t tell me you didn’t. You may think you were good at hiding your feelings, but you weren’t.”

Wilhemina’s gaze hardened. “Those two Greys will die tomorrow at dawn,” she answered emotionlessly.

You raised your hands in frustration. “What’s wrong with you?” you cried. Again, she didn’t react. Her silence only fueled your anger. “If you do that,” you went on, gritting your teeth to stop yourself from yelling the words, “if you have them killed, you’ll be walking down a path I cannot follow you on.” You gave a mirthless laugh. “But I guess you don’t care. Who am I kidding? You don’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. You made that clear months ago. But ask yourself this question, Wilhemina: will you be able to sleep knowing you’ve killed two innocent people?”

Oh, she would. Without a doubt she would. She knew it and you knew it and you saw it on her face. Yours turned sickly pale.

“Okay,” you mumbled, lowering your head in defeat. “Okay. I – you know what, I –“ You met her eyes again. “I don’t even know how I could fall in love with you in the first place.”

She swallowed, but her face remained blank. But that familiar something flashed in her eyes again, something sad, that looked almost like the Wilhemina she used to be.

You knew confronting her would likely make her shut down. You knew that. But you were only human, for God’s sake, and you had been hurt and betrayed and it was a well-known fact, that anger was stronger than Man.

So you took yet another step towards her and clenched your fists.

“I have questions,” you growled, “and you’re going to answer them. Why am I here? What made you think you could dump me with no explanation? Did you even love me, or was it all a game to you?”

By the end of your little outburst you were breathless, and Wilhemina, the Wilhemina you had tried to reach and caught a glimpse of, had been roughly locked away.

“Say one more word,” she enunciated, glazed, empty eyes staring right into yours,” and I’ll have you arrested and whipped every day until you meet your pitiful end.”

You opened your mouth, but she cut you off. “Don’t forget who you are, Y/N. I’m the only one who has authority here. If you question me or my rules again, I’ll make sure that insolent tongue of yours is nicely severed from the rest of your body. And don’t think I won’t enjoy watching.”

Your whole body was shaking. But it wasn’t with fear. It was with rage, and with something else you didn’t like at all, for that something else was love. Love that was terrified and aching because this wasn’t her, this wasn’t right, and part of you desperately wanted to make it right again.

Someone knocked on the door. Your eyes widened.

Don’t, you screamed at Wilhemina in your head. Ignore whoever it is. Talk to me. Let me in, let me help you, let me –

“Yes?” Wilhemina called.

The door opened, and Mary shyly stepped into the room. “I, um, I’m sorry to bother you,” she said in her sweet, low voice. “But, um, Y/N, I need your help with something.”

“Can’t it wait?” you asked her, your gaze not leaving Wilhemina’s face, your voice shaking, your body shaking with rage and love and ache.

“Obviously it cannot,” Wilhemina answered, eyes boring into you. “Or else little Mary wouldn’t have been brave enough to push that door open.”

Mary shot her a scared glance and immediately lowered her eyes again.

Send her off, you begged Wilhemina. Make me stay.

Her gaze was too intense, it was too cold, too dark. You lowered your head and turned to Mary.

“I lied,” Mary whispered once she had closed the door behind you two. She glanced up at you with a smile. “I don’t need your help with anything. I just thought I should come and rescue you.”

You swallowed. Your body was still shaking, and you couldn’t unclench your fists. “Right.”

“I heard her threaten you. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” you retorted sharply.

Wilhemina wouldn’t hurt you, you thought. She had only tried to scare you, to push you away. She would never carry out her threat.

But then again. You didn’t know what this new Wilhemina was capable of. Fear vaguely sang in your chest. Maybe she had meant every word.

“If there’s anything I can do to help you,” Mary was saying, “please tell me. I’ll be happy to listen.”

You thanked her, told her you wanted to be alone, and went to your room.

**

Wilhemina had decided the execution would be public to set an example. All the residents of Outpost 3 gathered in the music room and the two Greys who were to die were ordered to sit down on their knees in the middle of the room. They were both crying. Pathetic. Weak. Wilhemina looked down on them and smiled to herself.

A guard walked in with a gun. The Grey boy whimpered.

Someone – the hairdresser – mumbled something, a protest probably, but he was too scared to say it loudly. The old lady who had once been a star nodded at Wilhemina and gave her a smile and a thumbs up. Wilhemina ignored her.

You were standing in front of her slightly on her left, by Mary’s side. Wilhemina was trying not to pay you attention, but somehow you were the only person she could see.

You spent an awful lot of time with Mary, she had noticed. Laughing together, talking together, napping together. Good thing for you. Mary was just the type of person who would treat you right. She’d be kind, and happy, and healthy, and enough.

The Grey boy said something, pleaded for his life, probably. Wilhemina didn’t care. She didn’t listen. She nodded to the guard, and he crossed to him, holding the gun in front of him.

Wilhemina saw Mary grab your hand, saw you touch your shoulder to hers. Oh, you would be alright.

She didn’t know why, but her eyes had started to sting. Her hands were shaking. She willed them not to. They would not stop.

The guard raised his gun, pointed it at the Grey boy’s head, but Wilhemina didn’t see him, not really. She saw you turn your head and look at her, your eyes glossy and pleading, your hand holding Mary’s, and Wilhemina took a sharp intake of breath and felt tears pool in her eyes for she had loved and loved you and she had lost you. And now she was losing you again.

But she couldn’t go back, not now. She would lose her authority, she would be laughed at. And besides, she didn’t want to. This execution was the right thing to do. It would make everyone at the Outpost fear and respect her. They would bow their heads to her and they would hate her but they would never, never laugh at her.

There was a low but fierce shout, “Stop!” Your voice.

The guard lowered his arm slightly. He looked at you, confused, then at Wilhemina, awaiting orders. You stepped forward, letting go of Mary’s hand, came to a halt as if you weren’t sure what to do. A second passed. Then you crossed to Wilhemina, cupped her face in your hands, searched her eyes and murmured, “I love you.”

Something inside of her melted. The warmth from your touch and the warmth from your voice seeped into her and turned ice into water. The water washed down everything and left her insides dripping wet and glinting in the sun like after a hurricane.

You had spoken too low for the others to hear, but they saw the change on Wilhemina’s face. They saw her eyes widen and the light weave in as if she had opened a blind to let the sun in. They saw life and emotion settle back on her face and soften it.

For the first time since the world had ended, since you had walked into this music room sobbing and looked up and met Wilhemina’s eyes, you found her again. And you fell in love with her all over again.

You tried to give her a smile, and it was small and quivering, but it was genuine. It was fond. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as she searched your eyes, wondering, hoping, and when she blinked a tear rolled down her cheek and you caught it with your thumb. You were crying, too, but you smiled again, stroke her cheek. You felt the tension leave your shoulders.

The gunshot echoed off the walls as loud as a crack of thunder. It made everyone in the room jump. The Grey girl screamed as Mark slumped onto the floor at the guard’s feet. The guard moved his hand, pointed his gun at the girl and pulled the trigger.

The second gunshot was louder, somehow. It deafened you and left a ringing in your ears. Your hands fell from Wilhemina’s face as you both turned to stare at the two corpses. Blood slowly pooled around them and shone faintly in the candlelight.

The guard met your horrified gaze and shrugged. “Following orders,” he said nonchalantly. “It was taking too long.”

Wilhemina was staring down at the two dead bodies with an unreadable expression on her face. Then she looked up at the guard, and her eyes were glazed again.

“I didn’t order you to shoot,” she said coldly.

“You did,” the guard argued.

“She told you to stop,” Wilhemina said, nodding at you, her voice growing angry now.

The guard shrugged again. “I only take my orders from you.” He raised his gun and held it to his chest, a defiant look in his eyes.

Someone in the room was crying softly. You didn’t know who. Your mind had gone numb.

Wilhemina turned away from you. Slowly, regally, she walked to the corpses, her dark, glazed eyes fixed on the boy’s head. She stopped in front of him and tapped her cane on the ground. Then she gave orders to carry the corpses outside and burn them.

Dinner was silent that night. You swallowed your food cube and drank your water. You couldn’t look at Wilhemina. Coco tried to diffuse the tension with a few sly remarks that made some of the residents laugh nervously. When dinner was over, you excused yourself and went to your room.

You lay on your bed and prayed for sleep, but sleep, unsurprisingly, didn’t come. You turned and turned until you gave up. You sat up with a groan and buried your face in your hands.

Blood, slowly pooling. The two bodies, not moving. Wilhemina’s eyes, widening. A tear rolling down her face, that you caught with your thumb. You couldn’t chase those images from your mind.

It hadn’t been her fault, not really, you told yourself. She would have spared them in the end. You knew it. Without a doubt.

You buried your fingers in your hair, dug your nails into your skull. She would have spared them, for the Wilhemina you knew had come back, if only for a few seconds – and she had been hopeful, and you had been, too.  

And you knew you should still be mad, you knew it was too early to forgive her. But you were ready to surrender and fall back into her arms the second she’d want you back. If she ever decided she wanted you back.

There was a whisper, in your head, that assured you she did.

At 11:00pm you gave up on trying to sleep. You got up and went to the music room, hoping someone would be there and would like to talk to help you pass the time. Maybe Coco, for she would make you laugh. Or Mary, for her kindness would soothe you.

There was only one person, and it was Wilhemina. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of her. You thought it was because of annoyance, or disappointment maybe. Bullshit, your heart told you. She had been the one you had wanted to find.

Wilhemina was sitting in an armchair, her hands resting on the head of her cane, her eyes fixed on the fire. She raised her head when she heard your footsteps, and met your eyes.

“What are you still doing up?” she asked, not unkindly.

“There’s no curfew I know of,” you replied, probably too sharply, but Wilhemina didn’t seem to mind. She nodded, then resumed her staring at the fire.

For a minute you hesitated. Going back to your room was the wisest and safest option. But before you had consciously taken your decision, your feet moved towards Wilhemina. A moth drawn to a flame. Always, when it came to her.

You sat on the armchair opposite the hearth from her. For a long moment there was only silence. The fire crackled lazily and warmed you up.  

You glanced up at Wilhemina, only to realize she was staring at you. You quickly lowered your gaze, nervously shifted in your armchair, then glanced at her again.  

The expression on her face wasn’t closed, you noticed. There was a wistfulness to it, some sprinkles of curiosity, too. You felt hopeful again.

“So,” you said, assuming a casual tone as if you two were having a friendly conversation in a bar, “what’s your plan in the long run?”

Wilhemina watched you for a few seconds before she answered. Her voice was emotionless. “The Cooperative should contact me soon enough with new instructions.”

That’s not what you had meant. You had meant about her and you. But you let it drop.

“So you’re still following orders, uh?” you taunted. “I thought you were the only boss around here.”

“This is bigger than this outpost,” Wilhemina replied coldly. “This is about building a new, better world, where everyone is at their rightful place according to their worth and abilities.”

“What is my rightful place in this new world, do you think?” You waited, but no answer came.”What is yours?” you tried again. “Let me guess. You are the feared, hated leader. Making sure everyone respects you, making sure everyone survives. Noble work, but it sounds awfully lonely. Wouldn’t you rather fall asleep in somebody’s arms every night?”

Wilhemina’s expression hardened. She kept silent, which surprised you, and averted her eyes from your face to stare at the fire again.

You watched her. You watched the shadows the flames threw on her face. Followed the arch of her brow, the line of her mouth.

Had she done something to her hair, or was it the dim light? It was darker now. She had let you dye it once when you two had been dating. You had frowned at the smell and coughed and splashed the walls with tiny dots of orange. Wilhemina had tried to scold you, but she had burst into laughter instead, her hair piled on top of her head. She had let you wipe the dye splatters from her face and tuck her hair in a shower cap. And while the dye processed, she had sat on the couch reading and you had rested your head on her lap and grinned at her.  

Wilhemina cleared her throat, bringing you back to reality.

“What you said earlier, did you really mean it?” she asked in a low voice, still staring at the fire. “Or were you only trying to save the Greys?”

You leaned forward, digging your elbows into your thighs. “I’ll answer that once you’ve answered my own question. Why did you leave me?”

A pause. An annoyed look.

“Because I felt like it,” Wilhemina replied.

Your jaw dropped. “Wow. Because you felt like it?” You shook your head, anger rising in your chest. “I don’t believe you. I’ll ask it again. Why did you leave me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve just told you why. It’s not my fault you’re too proud to accept it.”

“Why did you leave me?” you repeated, clenching your fists.

Wilhemina made an angry noise. She tapped her cane on the floor, then slowly stood up. You jumped on your feet and followed her when she crossed the room and turned right down a corridor.

“Did you wake up one morning and realize you didn’t love me?” you called, as she opened the door to her room. You stepped inside after her. “You’d had your fun, but now it was time to plan the end of the world? Uh? Do you have any idea,” you growled, voice growing louder and angrier, “how it felt to watch you leave without even knowing what I did wrong?”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Wilhemina said, voice quavering.

“Then why the fuck did you leave?” you growled, taking one step toward her. “Tell me! For fuck’s sake, I deserve an explanation!”

She couldn’t meet your eyes anymore. She was staring at the floor and her breathing was quickening at it always would when she was trying not to cry. And suddenly you were in the company of the Wilhemina you knew, the one you loved, the one who didn’t think she should be soft and kind but was still willing to try, for you.

“Elijah came to see me,” she answered, so low you barely heard it.

“So what?” you growled. “You fucked him and realized he was your one true love?”

She winced, and you bit your cheek, thinking that maybe you had gone a bit too far. But she deserved it, part of you thought. She had hurt you too badly.

You waited, but she didn’t add anything after that. So, rage beating inside your chest instead of your heart, you strode to her and planted yourself right in front of her, fuming, and she flinched but held her ground.

“Tell me,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “Why did you leave me?”

She drew in a breath, turned away from you and crossed to her chest of drawers. You were about to yell at her when she opened one of the drawers, closed it again. She crossed back to you and dropped something into your hand.

A lighter. Small and black and plain. You stared at it uncomprehendingly.

“What…?”

Wilhemina had never been good with words. But when you two had been dating, she had been willing to open herself up to you in any way she could. Actions sometimes were easier, she had found.

You glanced up at her, then back down at the lighter in your palm. “I don’t understand,” you said.

Wilhemina had averted her gaze from you again. “I couldn’t pick it up from the floor,” she whispered brokenly.

It didn’t hit you all at once like a revelation. Instead it felt like something spreading inside your head. A bubble. Slowly inflating until it burst.

“What?”

Somehow, it was the only thing you could say.

Wilhemina squared her shoulders, raised her chin, built up her walls. She met your eyes and glared.

“You got what you wanted. Now leave before I feed you to the monsters outside.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but instead you burst into tears.

Your chin dropped to your chest and you sobbed, as Wilhemina stared at you in shock. She extended one hand towards you, hesitated, changed her mind. Her brow pushed up in confusion and concern as she waited for you to calm down, dying to touch and comfort you, but not daring to. She had lost you, after all. She hadn’t been enough.

Some people are just too fucked up to be loved, Elijah had said. She could hear his voice now as if he were saying it again, remembered his exact intonation, the way he had pronounced every syllable.

“It’s alright,” she tried after a little while. “He was right.”

“Who was right?” you sobbed, wiping your eyes.

“Elijah. I did the right thing for you.”

That made you burst into tears again. Except this time, you wrapped your arms around Wilhemina’s waist and pulled her close.

She stiffened against you, but you buried your face in her chest and held her tight and cried and cried at how blind you had been. Your heart broke, but this time it didn’t break for you. It broke for her. For how low her self-esteem was, how she had tried over and over again to be kinder and softer and yet had still been convinced loving her was a burden. Loving her had been the best thing in your whole goddamn life.

Tentatively, Wilhemina slipped one arm around your waist and rested her chin on top of your head.

“I’m gonna bring Elijah back from Hell and kill him,” you mumbled against her chest.

“But he didn’t do anything wrong,” Wilhemina replied. “He was right. All he did was love you so much he only wanted the best for you.”

You shook your head, wailing as Wilhemina brought her free hand up to your head and started stroking your hair.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked. “I’m so sorry.”

Wilhemina’s fingers stuttered in your hair. “What for?” she asked, and you couldn’t see her face but you knew what her expression must be like right now, brow pushed up in confusion, eyes wide as she tried to think of something to say or do to help you calm down.

You sobbed against her chest and tightened your grip on her. “I’m so sorry he did this to you and I let him.”

“I don’t –“She paused, hesitated. “I don’t understand,” she breathed after a moment, which only made you cry harder.

You felt her body stiffen again. “No no no, please don’t cry,” she pleaded. Her hand hovered over your head, afraid to touch you now. “I’ll stop talking, I’m sorry, I’m going to shut up. But please don’t cry.”

You clung to her, clutching the back of her dress, wishing that you could… you didn’t really know what. Let her creep inside of you, let her nestle by your heart so the outside world could never hurt her ever again.

When you had calmed down enough to speak, you asked her what Elijah had told her exactly. You wanted to hear every word, so you could erase them from her brain and replace them with words of truth and love.

You had expected her to refuse, to shut down and keep silent. But to your utter surprise, she let out a shaky breath, pressed her cheek against your head, and started to speak.

It was barely a whisper, and at first she paused and hesitated every second or so; but then, words poured out of her, ashamed and painful. You closed your eyes against a fresh wave of tears as you listened.

It didn’t last long. When she was done, her whole body slackened and you tightened your grip on her, afraid she was going to collapse on the floor. She didn’t, though. She nuzzled your hair and sighed.

She hadn’t broken up with you because of you. She had done it for you. Or at least, she had thought so. And it made everything worse, for you had said hurtful things to her. Accused her of things that had never even crossed her mind. Rubbed salt on the wound.

Not your fault, said a voice in your head. You hadn’t known.

After a quiet moment had passed, you took a deep breath and pulled away. Wilhemina let out a faint noise of protest, but you cupped her face and locked eyes with her.

“Have you ever thought that, maybe,” you whispered, offering her a small, teary smile, “I’m the only one who can decide what and who’s enough for me?”

Wilhemina’s eyes widened a bit. You gave her another smile, then let go of her face and looked around the room.

“You said Elijah told you you could never be enough for me and you believed him,” you said, gathering unlit candles in your hands. “I know this kind of thoughts don’t go away easily. I know it takes time and work. But let me show you something.”

You came to a halt in front of Wilhemina and held out the lighter. She glanced at it, then met your eyes, frowning. You leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her mouth. Wilhemina’s lips parted on a breath as you pulled away.

You smiled. “Let’s pretend these candles are my heart. Shush, let me finish. Sit down. Let me show you how you light up my heart.”

You set the first candle down on the bedside table. “Remember the day we met at the supermarket? I was blocking the aisle with my cart and you snapped at me. Told me my ass was too big for this world.” You chuckled softly at the memory. “My life was so boring before that day. I hadn’t realized it, but it lacked challenges, it lacked passion. It’s like my brain was asleep, and with just a few words, you awoke it.”

You flicked the lighter and lit the candle. The flame flickered, then grew. You glanced at Wilhemina, gave her a smile.

“Remember the first time we made love?” Wilhemina’s eyes were riveted on the burning candle. You bit your lower lip, set a second candle on the chest of drawers. “You were so nervous, and you tried to hide it, but Mina, honestly, I can tell you now, you weren’t very successful. You thought you would hurt me or not know how to pleasure me. Remember how many times you made me come that night? You’re a great lover, Mina. And you sure have talent in these fingers and tongue of yours,” you teased. Wilhemina’s eyes, wide and shining, flicked to you. “But do you know what you’re even better at? The way you take care of me after. The way you cannot seem to be able to stay away, how you always snuggle up to me and hold me and ask me if it was good.” You lit up the second candle.

You took a third one, put it on the floor by the door. “Remember my birthday?” you went on. “I’d spent the last one alone. You brought me breakfast in bed, bought me flowers and a cake.”

“I ruined your birthday cake,” Wilhemina whispered sadly.

You shook your head, flicking the lighter again. “But you bought it. For me. To celebrate me.”

You crossed to the other side of the room, set two candles on the vanity. “I don’t know if you’re even aware you did it, but you’d always fluff my pillow when you’d make our bed in the morning. You’d never fluff yours. Only mine.”

Wilhemina let out a noise halfway between a laugh and a sob.

“It’s only one example of all the things you did that made me feel so loved. Like how you’d always buy pears even though you don’t like the taste of them, just because you knew I do. Or how you read the whole of War and Peace just because I said it’s one of my favorite books. That’s more than a thousand pages, Mina.” Your voice broke as your lips parted on a smile. “You didn’t even think it was that good. But you read the whole thing. Valentine’s Day. You said you hated Valentine’s Day. You bought me flowers and chocolates and tickets for Carmen. Front row center seats, Mina.”

You were crying again by now, but these tears were happy. You set the last candle by the bed. “You made sure I’d survive the Apocalypse. It was you, wasn’t it? I don’t know how you did it, but I’m sure it was you. I used to be mad at you for having saved me but left all my friends and family to die. But you saved me. Gave me another chance at life. Because you still cared about me.”

Wilhemina sniffed, wiped her nose on the back of her hand. You walked around the bed and took her hand.

The whole room was studded with bright, dancing dots of light, as if you had stuck your head into the night sky. Wilhemina’s hand was shaking, but she laced her fingers with yours and gave them a tight squeeze.

“So, you see,” you whispered, “see how bright you make my heart shine.”

A sob pushed out of Wilhemina’s throat. She wrapped her free arm around her waist, hugging herself as she cried. You leaned towards hers, bumping her shoulder with yours. For a while she didn’t move; then she, tentatively, laid her head on your shoulder. And then, as you did not protest, did not push her away, she slipped her arm around your waist and pulled you close.

Her hand cupped your face and her mouth crashed against yours as she sobbed and you sobbed and kissed her fervently back. How you had missed this. How you had missed her. One of your arms wrapped around her shoulders to press her closer still, tongue sliding inside her mouth. You were shaking, entirely too hot and so, so alive.

Something seemed to break loose inside Wilhemina. She let out a noise like a whimper, and suddenly she was crying over and over again “I’m so sorry” and “please” and “don’t go”. You pulled away slightly, cupped her face to make her look at you.

“I’m not leaving,” you whispered. “I forgive you.”

Her shoulders slumped with relief as another sob pushed up her throat. “But what about Mary?” she hiccupped.

You frowned, stroking her cheek. “What about Mary?”

“And what about the two Greys?” she went on, voice growing frantic and breathless. “What about the rules? I’ll hurt you again, I’ll hold you back, I’m too fucked up –“

“None of that,” you shushed her gently.

“But I –“

“No.” A kiss on her mouth, slow and sweet, meant to reassure. You tugged softly at her lip, and she moaned, dug her fingers into your skin. She let out a breath that went all the way down into your lungs, and sank into you.

After a moment, she rested her cheek on your shoulder and opened her eyes to look at all the lighted candles. You held her, stroking the nape of her neck, rubbing circles on her back.

The candles were burning. They lit up the room.

Tag list:  @sapphicsarahpaulson @mssallymckenna @supremeinlilac @pluied-ete @rainbow-hedgehog @pearplate @angelxsarahp @paulawand @asktammyr @peggycarter-steverogers   @coconutlipss ​ @saucy-sapphic​  @thesupremewife @coxmicbabygirl

[valeskakingdom]

Request

Jerome met the reader at the circus ... They spend the evening together (well, maybe have sex)? And then the reader leaves Jerome (he gives her his grey coat, what a gentleman) and comes back the next day, only to find out that he killed his mother and is sitting in Arkham. A year goes by (like in the show, I guess?) and the next time the reader meets Jerome, he’s on the bus with the cheerleaders and of course Jerome remembers her! ;) Is that too much? ;-;

Requested by: @valeskaduh

So guys, here's the final part 2 of my one shot. Hope you like it as much as part 1!!

Wordcount: 3510

Here's part 1: "https://valeskakingdom.tumblr.com/post/647442495087820800/request

Warning: mention of murder and violence

Credit: @gotham-swag

It was late, something after midnight already.

You both, Jerome and you, still laid in his bed fully covered in sweat thinking back about what has happened before, all the feelings, the pleasure... Everything.

Your clothes laid strayed on the ground; your underwear laid next to the bed while your shirt and pants laid elsewhere in any corners of his room.

Jerome had wrapped is arm around your waist to comfort you whilst you rested your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat. It was even and slow.

"That was great, wasn't it?" Jerome broke the silence between you with a slight chuckle.

"Indeed," You chuckled "It was worth it."

"It was. Haven't met a girl that could give that good blowjobs."

"Jerome!" You slapped his chest in embarrassment widening your eyes, a strong blush went over face. You were a little shocked about his assertion, but otherwise you felt honored.

"No need to be embarrassed (Y/N)," Jerome chuckled caressing your side "You could see it as a compliment. I'd choose you over others."

"U-uhm...Thank...you? I feel...honored." You mumbled in embarrassment.

"You're cute when you're shy like that." Jerome smirked, sitting up and took a cigarette from his nightstand and lightened it to smoke.

You hummed saying nothing, just gave him a little smile.

You liked it how he called you cute, and that he liked your shyness. It gave you some hope that maybe that this,between you and him, could turn into something more than just a simple one off. All the sweet nothings he whispered into your ear, all the compliments and intensive kisses... That couldn't come just out of nowhere. You had the feeling something was special between you two; you couldn't say what it was though. All you knew was: you felt different in Jerome's near. It was like you two would know each other for ages.

While Jerome was smoking his cigarette off, his smoke spread through the room that you inhaled it. It didn't bother you, you were used to it from home.

You think took your phone out of the pocket of your pants to behold the clock: 00:37

Time for you to go, you needed to get ready in a few hours for your work.

"Anyways, I think it's time for me to go. Need to stand up early," You sighed grabbing your underwear to take them on "You know, work and such."

"Awww really?" Jerome gave you a little pout while admiring your body for one more time "I enjoyed the time with you."

Again he viewed you from head to toe, admired your curves and your flawless pale skin. His view was giving him chills again and he had the urge to touch again. He missed this feeling of your soft skin, this incredible feeling of him inside you making you moan, or the feeling when you dug your nails in his back because he pleasured you well.

"Me too," You giggled and pulled your pants up to buttoned them, then taking your shirt on "But yeah, I don't wanna be late. My boss becomes mad if anyone's late."

"How's your boss when he's mad?" Jerome asked with a certain leery undertone mixed with jealousy.

He looked at you frowning, his breathe became uneven, he kinda seemed to be upset like if you say a wrong word he's about to explode.

It confused you a little, but you didn't give a shit about it. You thought you maybe were just imagining this jealousy. How could he be jealous anyway? He didn't know you at all so he had nothing to loose when you go.

"Let's say you don't wanna mess around with him. He can be a little scary." You took your shirt on. Now though it wasn't as tight as usual anymore because Jerome tugged it from your body.

"Is he touching you?" Jerome gave you a stern look, his tone became rougher what confused you even more.

"Oh no. No, no, he's just yelling and he hears grudges." You turned to him "It's just annoying, that's all."

"Alright," He nodded standing up to take his boxers on "But wait, before you go..." Jerome walked to his wardrobe taking out a dark grey coat handing it to you "Here, it's cold outside."

"Thank you, but you don't-..."

"It's fine, you can keep it," Jerome smiled "See it as a little reward for the gorgeous night." He winked at you making you blush.

"Thank you." You smiled at him taking his coat on. You smelled his cologne, it smelled like any usual cologne but knowing that it was his made it special.

You both walked to the trailer's front door.

Jerome opened the door, you walked a few steps but turned around to face him. With a smile. You looked at his beautiful shining blue eyes for one last time. More and more you recognized that you liked him. You realized that you've never felt this huge amount of comfortableness and happiness. Sure, in an another relationship you've been happy, too, but not as much as with Jerome.

It was strange, very strange. You couldn't understand how you'd be so attached to a stranger. Maybe it was because Jerome was the perfect guy in your eyes and something gave you the feeling that you two belonged together?

"Well, then," you kissed his cheek quickly "See you around, Jerome."

"See you around, (Y/N). Hope to see ya again." One last time, he gave you this amazing smile before he shut the door.

With a little smile you walked out of the circus. You couldn't wait to visit the circus again to meet Jerome and have an amazing time together.

***

Days went by.

You couldn't stop thinking about Jerome - how kind he was to you, how good he treated you, and let's not forget about the sex, of course. The sex was amazing.

Though you still had his coat. You know you couldn't keep it, you wouldn't feel right about it.

Due to different circumstances, the circus was still in your city. On the one hand, you were curious about the reason why. Maybe there were some complications with travelling? Or maybe they did an extra show and had a lot of work to do to prepare for the show?

On the other hand, all your thoughts focused in Jerome. You were excited: you imagined to hug him, talking to him, laughing with him... Everything you wanted to do when you were able to see him again.

You made your way to Haly's circus with Jerome's coat.

As you arrived, everything seemed to be normal. The circus tent was still constructed, the trailers stood still on the same places as on the day where you visited the show, and the artists still walked around the yard.

You looked around to find someone you could talked to and who you didn't bother; then you saw the Ringmaster who was taking his rings to pack them into his case.

He was a tall colored man with some kind of clown makeup: red cheeks. white makeup was smeared around his face and a fake beard was glued on his upper lip. He was wearing a red suit and a black tophat.

"Hey, uhm...excuse me?" You hesitatingly tapped on his shoulder.

"Hm?" He turned to you with a grunt "The circus is closed for visitors. There ain't be a show today."

"Oh, I know but," as the Ringmaster was about to turn around, you grabbed his arm and turned him back to you "I was just looking for Jerome. He gave me his coat a few days ago and I wanted to give it back."

"Oh, haven't you watched the news? Jerome's in Arkham-..." You widened your in shock, you hoped you haven't heard it right.

"Wait, wait, wait...he's what?!"

Arkham?! Has he really said 'Arkham'?! The asylum where murderers, cannibals and other lunatics are living in?! What is he doing there?! Why is he in Arkham?! What has he done to be busted in there?! These were the thoughts that couldn't get out of your head. Jerome was a criminal? How could he?! He was so kind to me, so polite...was that all just acting? Did he play with my mind?

"He killed his mother with a hatchet. You might know her as the snake dancer." He sighed shaking his head slightly while he kept packing the rings in his suitcase "Let's just hope she didn't have a painful death."

"A-alright...t-thank you..." In shook and disgust, you slowly walk back to your car.

You couldn't believe what you've heard. Jerome was a killer: a blood-thirsty, psychotic and cold-hearted killer. You felt poor, you had the feeling you were about to throw up every minute. You slept with him and you liked it...you even wanted to meet him again!

You were disgusted by yourself.

Now you just wished that you could have changed the past; that you've never slept with him, never let him kiss nor touch you...that you've never even talked to him! You just wished that as he bumped into you, that you ignored him or snapped at him that you and himwoukd have never dealt with each other - everything.

***

*1 year later*

It was a rainy and cloudy day in Gotham.

It was cold, your window panes were fogged through the high temperature difference between your room and outside. In your room, it was warm and comfortable while outside it was cold, almost as cold as in winter.

You were just sitting on the couch eating some sandwiches, drinking a Coke in the hope something new and excited happened in your life.

This day was bearing you down, you didn't know why though. Maybe it was just the weather? You had no idea. You just felt empty inside since last year. And you exactly knew why.

You still couldn't believe the fact Jerome was a killer. You couldn't imagine how an actual kind and smart boy with a gorgeous smile, ginger hair, blue eyes and some abs could grab a hatchet to kill his own mother. You just wished it was a lie and that reality played a bad game with you. For sure, you didn't know Jerome completely, you've just met him once but still you could say that this all felt so wrong.

It was the disgust that caused this feeling. You were disgusted by the thought that you allowed a murderer playing with your mind to get in your pants while he was about to murder something behind your back. You were disgusted by the thought that you imagined you and him being a couple, that you wanted to date him... You were disgusted by everything that included him because it reminded you of all this. When you just heard the name Jerome, you felt shivers down your spine and a feeling mixed of disgust and feeling poor.

One thing that confused you was: you couldn't throw his coat in the trash can. You kept it, it hung in your wardrobe and you smelled on it every day because his cologne was still buried in it, then you remembered the gorgeous night you had with him and all the feeling you felt...But then you remembered who he really was and what he has done right after the meeting of you which caused you to close your wardrobe fast and walking out of our room to quickly forget all that - day by day.

Full of boredom, you turned the TV on hoping something could entertain you there.

But then you saw this:

"Hello, Gotham City! We're the Maniax and I'm Jerome, the shot caller of our little gang. We're here to spread the message of wisdom and hope!"

You couldn't believe your eyes. It was Jerome with a bloody nose who cackled shortly, then shot a cop because he coughed and groaned in pain - he apparently disturbed his little show. He was back, he escaped out of Arkham.

Your body was shaking, your breathe was uneven - you were paralyzed.

You started panicking. No place felt safe for you anymore, especially not your little apartment. You needed to be with someone. You thought, when you're alone you'd be fucked. Maybe he remembered you and wanted to look for you? You remembered that he told you, he'd choose you over others. Of course, they could have been just words but now you never know... He was a psycho who might remember everything.

"Some people have no manners." He took a deeper look in the camera "You're all prisoners. What you call sanity, it's just a prison in your minds that stops you from seeing that y'all are a just tiny little cogs in a tiny absurd machine! WAKE UP!"

Jerome yelled in the TV what made you flinch and you curled up in your couch wrapping your arms around your legs tight. Your face was half hidden being your knees that you were still able to watch his little show - but with fear.

"Why be a cog? Be free like us!" Jerome started to cackle "And just remember, smile" he cackled squishing the dead cop's cheek while cackling louder.

Then you heard horns honking, the police was haunting him.

"Oh, time to go!" He crawled down do the ground taking a police head on and still held the camera tight "But dont worry, we'll be back very soon! Hang onto your hats folks, 'cause you ain't see nothing yet!" Jerome cackled insanely but you immediately turned the TV off.

You grabbed your phone fast to call your best friend (Y/bff/n). You needed to be with them. Being alone in a little apartment would just driving you nuts, especially when Jerome was out!

Your best friend was the only one who knew about Jerome being your one off as they knew that Jerome was a killer so they surely understood why you were so scared. You didn't want to risk anything - whether he'd remember you or not, you didn't want to be alone.

Your phone was ringing, you hoped they'd pick up the phone:

(Y/bff/n): hey (Y/n)! Wha-...

(Y/n): Have you watched the news?!

(Y/bff/n): Uhm...no, why? And why are y-...

(Y/n): Jerome's out of Arkham!!

(Y/bff/n): Wait what?! Are you sure it's the Jerome you're thinking of??

(Y/n): he was in the TV...he's planning something... Can stay with you? I can't stay alone. It's driving me nuts. I already have the feeling he's eyeing me from several corners.

(Y/bff/n): Of course! Come over now. We'll get your stuff later.

(Y/n): Thank you! I'm on my way already! See you!

You hung up, immediately taking your jacket, your phone, your keys and some shoes.

You ran out of your apartment, locking your door and walked straight to the next bus station.

You were in a hurry. Outside you didn't feel well at all. You felt being watched, being haunted. You had the feeling Jerome was everywhere and that he just waited the perfect moment to catch you. Everytime someone was walking past you, you felt shivers down your spine and you were scared that any person was a member of 'the Maniax' and kidnap you and bring you to Jerome. You walked faster to the bus station to arrive your best friend's home as fast as possible. You turned your head to the left, to the right, to see whether someone was haunting you. No one did though. It was just your mind.

As you arrived station, the bus came immediately.

You entered the bus as it stopped and chose a seat in the back.Everywhere around you cheerleaders were gossiping, laughing, squeaking about any boy who kissed a friend and such. You instead kept quiet and looked out of the window.

After a few minutes of driving, the bus stopped through a red car from the fire service that blocked its way. Its horns were honking and you could hear someone was getting out of the car.

You saw a ginger guy dancing out of the car on his way to the entrance of the bus. Your heart stopped. Was it Jerome? Was now the moment where you life will end?

He knocked at the door with something, the cheerleaders started to scream.

Something bad will happen now was what you thought while your pulse was running, your sweat was dripping down your forehead, and your hands were shaking. You wanted to cry, you wanted to crawl back in a corner and hope everything will be fine.

Suddenly the door opened, strangers in white suits with guns entered the bus and put us all in handcuffs that were sticker on chains while they pointed their guns at your heads. But for an unknown reason they went out immediately after everyone in the bus was handcuffed.

Cheerleaders were screaming louder, some even started to cry, to son, and to beg for mercy. You instead kept quiet. You couldn't scream. You were in shock and panic, in fear, some tears were already streaming down your cheeks while you tried break free - you failed.

"I want you all to know," you suddenly heard a familiar voice that paralyzed you in shock - he was here "this was a very difficult decision for us. It was between you and uhm... senior citizen bingo party. In the end we decided to skew a little younger. Youth won the day. Sorry." Jerome walked through the bus eyeing each cheerleader girl and pointed his gun at their heads.

With every step he did, you could hear a clicker-clacker caused by his shoes.

Your heartbeat felt like it could explode every minute. You had the feeling you would die soon. More and more tears streamed down your face, you were sobbing in fear, your hands shook uncontrollably. You just wished, you'd come out here alive.

Then Jerome stopped walking, he was eyeing you in surprise and excitement.

"(Y/n)?!" He bended down to you in astonishment completely around him that all the cheerleaders around him were crying and sobbing, and so were you "My, my, my, look at you. You've grown up in that time we haven't seen each other. How you're doing?"

You said nothing, you were just confused about his behavior.

What was wrong with him? Just a few minutes ago he was about to kill us and now he's behaving like an innocent child?! Was what you thought as you just gave him a confused look.

You were still scared though, maybe again he was just playing with your mind as one year ago just to get you?

"It's so good to see you (Y/n), you know that?" He sighed with a smile on his face leaning his elbow against the seat in front of you to lean his head against his hand "I really couldn't stop thinking about you when I was busted in this dirty old shack. The night in my trailer with you...it was marvellous! I still know each part of your body in detail...it brought me many good nights in my cell." Jerome chuckled dark.

You didn't know what to say. Was he about to kill you now? Was it all just a trick again? Do you have to feel honored now that he thought about you every night and jerked off your body?

You stared into his blue eyes, you could tell he was planning something new - and this time it included you.

"Yeah," Jerome kept staring at you with his grin in his face "Anyways, what's new in your life?"

"U-uhm...p-pretty boring...," You sniffed "Nothing has r-really changed since l-last y-year." You stammered feeling odd about having a normal conversation in such an actually dangerous situation.

"Hm..." Jerome hummed flicking his tongue "You know, actually I wanted to splash gasoline all over the cheerleaders and burn them but...now that you are here... I take you with me and THEN I continue my plan." Jerome uncuffed your hands taking them tight and ran with you out of the bus, the other cheeleaders started to scream and cry again and again begged for mercy.

As you and Jerome stood in front the open entrance of the bus, he softly wiped some hair strains behind your ear. With his thumb he caressed your soft skin and wiped all the tears and smeared mascara away.

Jerome smiled at you admiring your face for a while. He looked deep in your eyes, then down to your lips. With a finger snip your fear was gone, the feeling of uncomfortableness faded slowly. Your breathe was uneven though, his personality changes scared you still. Your hands was still trembling, your knees weak. But something told you that you didn't need to be scared of him anymore. He at least safed you.

"From now on, doll, you're mine."

[darkmulti]

It’s Only Fair

ATEEZ

Pairings: Mingi x female reader

Genre: Smut

Work Count: 2.4k exactly

Requested

CONTAINS DARK THEMES

CONTINUE AT YOUR OWN RISK!

———

Synopsis: Falling in love with your female group member is not a good idea. But Mingi fell face first.

———

A/N: I have a couple of notes

- warnings are after the undercut. Don’t read if you aren’t into dark themes.

- DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO @ sugar-hwa?

- I kinda edited it. You know when you read something, but don’t pay attention so you really have no idea what happened and have to read it again? Yeah, that’s what I did. Story of my life. I take her home

- back at writing shit smuts🤡

⚠️Warnings: choking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, fear kink, size kink, breeding kink, big dick mingi

Writers block on this one. My apologies:’(

THIS CONTAINS NON CONSENSUAL SEX!

——————————————————————————-

The bright moonlight gazed in through the living room window. It was close to midnight when your group Ateez, finally came back home after a long day of practicing. Seonghwa carried you in his arms up to your room, since you had already fallen asleep in the car. San and Hongjoong passed out on the couch and the rest of the boys headed back to their rooms.

Seonghwa tucks you into your bed and admires your angel face. He kissed your forehead and was about to leave your room, but you pulled him into your embrace and told him to stay. “Y/N I have to put my pajamas on. I can’t sleep in my sweaty clothes.” You gasp. “Seonghwaaaa! I didn’t shower!” You jump up and run to your bathroom, disgusted with yourself. Seongwha stood there with his mouth slightly open. “You faker! You made me carry you out of the car all the way to your room! Do you know how heavy you are?”

You were giggling, but then his words registered to mind. You poke your head out and look at him. “Heyyyy! I’m not heavy! Don’t be mean, Seonghwa!”

“I’m not mean! You can’t get mad at me for speaking the truth.”

You pout at him. “You’re a big meanie! Leave my room!”

He laughs and leaves your room, without fully closing the door, but you didn’t notice. Instead you hop into the shower, wash your hair, and scrub down your body, while humming to ‘Twilight’. Once you finish, you step out of the shower and wrap the clean, white towel around your body. The mirrors were all fogged up so you couldn’t even see yourself. You turn the fan on and leave the bathroom, only to see Mingi laying on your bed with a toothpick in his mouth. You sharply inhale, stopping yourself from screaming and hold onto your towel tightly.

“Mingi!” You hissed. “You gave me a mini heart attack! What are you doing in my room?”

“Your room door was wide open so I just came in.” He said, casually. “Well can you get out now, I need to put some fucking clothes on.” Water dripped onto the floor from your hair, oddly arousing Mingi. “I’ll leave after you agree to go for a car ride with me.”

“Car ride? Mingi, I’m tired.” You throw your head back and mentally roll your eyes.

“Then I’m not leaving your room.” He clutched onto your plushie, setting it on his bulge to hide it. “Fine, I’ll go, just get out.” His face lightened up from hearing your words and he left your room with the plushie still in hand, still hiding his boner. “I’m giving you 15 minutes to get ready.”

“Okay.”

You put on a clean pair of pyjamas and fuzzy socks since it was just going to be a midnight drive.. or well you thought. You ring out your hair with the towel then throw it on the chair. “Mingi! Lets go.” Mingi comes out of his room with grey sweatpants and a white shirt on. “Shh, Hongjoong and San are sleeping in the living room.” You nod and make your way downstairs, trying your best not to bump into anything.

The both of you successfully made it out of the house without disturbing the other members. You got into his car shivering, because it was pretty windy and your hair was wet. It was really nice bonding with Mingi. He was so nice and charming, it always warms your heart. You felt like you could tell him anything, knowing that he will not judge you.

Your first stop was at a drive thru where both of you ordered ice cream. Yes you were cold, but who can say no to ice cream? While licking your ice cream, both of you started singing Ateez songs, mocking each other's parts and making fun of the other members. You were too distracted to figure out what was going on, and where Mingi was going. He drove you guys out of the city to a forested area, and that’s when you start to notice your surroundings. “Mingi, where are we going? Our house is all the way back there.”

“Don’t worry. I want you to see something.” He drives for a little longer then parks in a layby. “Lets go.” He unbuckles his seat belt and you look at him in disbelief. “I’m not going out! There’s mosquitoes and wild animals out there, plus I’m in my pyjamas!” You exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. “Y/N the bears don't care about your penguin pyjamas. Trust me, you would want to see this.” You groan and get out of the car, slamming the door shut. Mingi turns his phone flashlight on and points it at the woods.

He starts walking into the woods and you quickly run next to him, intertwining your hands with his much bigger hand. “I’m scared, Mingi.” You faintly whisper, clinging onto him. “That’s how I felt when my dad took me here.”

“What do you mean?” You ask him, holding his hand tighter. “My dad took me here, and told me that he proposed to my mom somewhere around here. He told me to bring the love of my life here as well.” His words made your legs stop. You look at him in confusion. “Why are you bringing me here?”

“Put two and two together. I like you.” His sudden confession took you by surprise obviously. Mingi was a brother figure in your life, in fact all of Ateez were. You couldn’t date them, you couldn’t fall in love with them. What will atiny’s think?

“M-mingi, I’m flattered really, but we can’t date and you know that.” You try to let him down easy, not wanting to hurt his feelings too much. “Why can’t we date? We have a perfect cover, we can tell the members and no one will be suspicious about us hanging out since we're in the same group.”

“No Mingi, we can’t let our group and fans down like this. We can’t lie. Besides, I-I really don’t feel the same way. I’m sorry.” You mumble out quietly, looking down at your feet. “Excuses and lies are all that you do. You probably like one of the other members, but you’re just lying right to my face. I saw the way you asked Seonghwa to stay with you to cuddle, make love, kiss…” he said, slowly walking closer to you. “N-no, you have the wrong idea Mingi! Seonghwa is more like an o-older brother, and I t-think of you and all the m-members the sa-ame.” You gulp and blink back the tears, suddenly feeling terrified.

“Mingi please! I’m sorry that I hurt your feelings, but it just feels wrong.” He doesn’t respond. The man kept walking towards you, making you feel anxious so you made a run for it. You were petrified. You kept running, not acknowledging that you were running deeper into the scary woods. You heard Mingi close behind and came to a halting stop, shaking from fear. You get down and curl up into a little ball, not being able to see, because it was pitch black in the forest. You sob into your hands, feeling helpless until you hear someone panting and stopping next to you. “P-please don’t hurt me. I-I’m scared.”

Mingi picks you up and holds you in his arms. “Don’t run away like that. With me you’re safe.” You cry into his chest, still shaking. “I’m sorry. You scared me earlier.”

“Is the idea of us dating scary to you? Do you think my feelings are just a joke?” Again, where did he pull that out from. “Of course not Mingi” You say, defending yourself. “I don’t think you confessing is a joke, but can we please discuss this in the car? This setting is getting me anxious and I don’t like the feeling.”

“No. We are going to talk about us right here, right now!”

“THERE IS NO ‘US’ THERE WILL NEVER BE AN ‘US’, NOW TAKE ME HOME!!” You screamed and cried out in anger. Unconsciously, you start backing away from him, having that same feeling return. Reality stormed into your mind, expressing that you’ve made this situation much worse for yourself.

You held your breath and tried to bolt again, but Mingi pulled you back by the hem of your pants. You softly moan when you feel your panties pull up, stretching in between your private lips. Your panties had rolled up, and put pressure on your clit, making you bite down on your lips, so you wouldn’t moan.

“Mingi ah, please.” He pulls you closer to him and wraps his hand around your waist. “Feels good, doesn’t it?” he grinds his rock hard bulge on your ass cheek. “What if I told you that I can make you feel even better?” He whispers in your ear. It was tempting, but you couldn’t. It seemed like a choice that you would really regret in the future. “Mingi, I don’t want to. Please respect my decision.”

“That's not an option Y/N.” he wrapped one arm around your neck to keep you still and his other hand pulled down your pants along with your panties. “MINGI! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!” You scream and try to get out of his embrace. “Scream all you want little girl. No one will hear you. You’re just waking the bears up.” The man pulls down his own pants and rubs it at your entrance. “P..please! You’ll regret this Mingi!”

“Why? If I get you pregnant with my child, we are stuck together forever.”

“NO! PLease!” You were screaming at him with all your heart, until you felt something completely demolish your insides, making your screams for help and mercy turn into heartbreaking sobs. “Mingi it hurts! Please! I’ve never done anything to you! Please don’t do this to me!” You cried in his arms, hating this new feeling.

Your insides were being exposed to this new pain that seemed impossible to get used to. Your blood leaks down to the ground and some smear on Mingi’s cock, being the only source of lub.

“I hate you! Please!” Your pussy clenched around his cock every time he recklessly pounded in. You lay your head low, letting him take advantage of you. Your voice was too small and weak to be heard at this point. The friendship you built with Mingi was destroyed forever. Your heart clenched at the thought of it, but it was him that was doing this to you. Why were you guilty and sad?

Mingi gripped your hips, launching you forward and pulling you back harshly on his cock. His nails dug into your beautiful, soft skin causing you to squirm. The skin slapping got noticeably faster and his arm around your neck pulled back farther. His cock pounded in from behind, while your back was arching and your head was resting on his shoulder.

His grip restricted you from being able to breathe properly, so you tried to tap his arm to know. “M-mingi.” A hard spank lands on your butt, making you hiss. “It’s sir to you, you little slut.” His other arm wraps tightly around your stomach so he can feel himself. “M- I mean sir. I-I can’t-” Mingi cuts her off by placing his hand on your mouth instead of your neck. You mumbles against his hands, but Mingi couldn’t make it out.

“Shut up and take my cock, little one.”

Little one. Another thing that turned Mingi on. She was tiny compared to him. He felt like satan fucking his angel. Which made him feel so powerful, it only aroused him more. Your tiny hands gripping his arm that was around your stomach, was another reason to fuck you unconsious. “Please sir. S-something weird is going on down there.”

Mingi smiles. “How does it feel, little one?”

“Like a knot in my stomach, sir.”

“Does it feel good?” He said grunting and thrusting harder.

“J-just a little bit.” Your cheeks heat up at your own confession. It might have felt good, but it was wrong on so many levels. “Sir, what is this feeling?”

“My little one’s gonna cum for the first time.” He held you closer to his body, clenching his jaw and ramming into you harder. “S-sir, not too hard! Please!” Your head dropped just like your tears. This was you giving up. Something that you never wanted to do. He aggressively pulls your hair back making you wince. “Please Mingi! What if we get caught?! We’ll have to leave the group and let our members down!”

“Don’t try to guilt trip me, little one. I will fuck you whenever I want and will even ask one of the… actually all of the boys to join me. It’s not like they haven’t thought about it either!”

Your heart dropped upon hearing his words. As if it weren’t already broken enough. The people that you trust with your whole life, thought about taking advantage of you?! It hurt, so you stayed in denial. “YOU’RE LYING! THEY WOULD NEVER, EVER DO THAT TO ME!” You kick your feet and cry louder, because Mingi started going harder after your tantrum. “Really? You have no idea that San steals your panties, cums on it, then puts it back? These panties that you’re wearing probably have his cum on it right now.” You shudder in disgust. You thought it was vaginal discharge but it was San’s cum this whole time. And you’ve been wearing them without even knowing. “I’m not done yet little doll. Wooyoung has pictures of you naked and he shamelessly jerks off to it with Seonghwa. And Seonghwa plays a role in getting these pictures. Why do you think that he leaves your bedroom door open every time?”

You remain quiet. You had no words to say, you were just nauseous by their actions. More tears poured out of your burning eyeballs until you felt that knot in your stomach release. Cum came rushing out onto Mingi’s cock and a few thrust later he came inside of you. You didn’t even care that he came in you. Disappointment and sadness took over you. “Now you know the real truth. And when we go home, I’ll invite the boys to fuck you too. It’s only fair.”

[diaryofabeautyfiend]

Small Time Witch (25)

You landed in the sand with a thud quickly standing to keep the upper hand. If you have learned anything about Loki you learned not to let him gain the high ground. He sat staring at you first confused but then glared at you like an animal watching its prey. You helped him to stand and dusted him off.

“You ok?” He shook his head. He was still muzzled. “I’m going to take this off but the cuffs stay on deal?” You freed him and stepped back out of his reach.

“Who are you?” His voice was low and probably would have been scary to someone else. You only heard how nervous he was.

“Your wife.” you said with more pep than you meant. “I’m your wife. Here.” You grabbed his hand so he could place it on your forehead to see. He pulled away backing up slowly.

“How did you know I can do that?”

“Because I’m your wife. We met two years ago...or five years from now. Time travel is weird. If you would just let me show you.”

“I would rather not. I don’t know what game you’re playing here but I want no part in it. Uncuff me, mortal.”

This was going nowhere. You placed you hands in his and held on tight so that he may feel how intensely you loved him. He allowed you to touch him. It washed over him like his love washed over you all those moths ago. Tears shimmered in his eyes as you let go.

What a miracle he thought. Someone on some planet in some timeline actually loves him. This is the first time he’s genuinely felt it since he was a boy. Here he was standing in front of a woman, a stranger who’s name he didn’t even know. This woman loved him. He felt like he was just skull dragged across the fires of Hel. He sat down on the sand and could only say, “Huh”.

He studied you and you let him. Most would feel uneasy with Loki looking at them this way. You welcomed it. Devour me, you wanted to scream. If he chose to beat you to death at this point you would let him.

You sat on the ground playing with your shoelaces when he finally came over to you and smacked his hand on your forehead. You showed him everything. The magic, the beginnings of your relationship, the house, the sex, the ceremony and the other part of the ceremony that ripped you two apart. Everything. He scrambled backwards tripping over himself and landed on his bottom. You reached over and undid the cuffs.

“Now do you believe me?” He wordlessly shook his head.

“Why didn’t you keep up your end of the bargain?” he whispered.

“You wouldn’t let me.”

You sat for a long time not speaking. His fear and confusion came off of him in waves. He had no idea how to talk to you. You couldn’t help but wish you could touch him. Your body longed for him. It was that longing that made him afraid. He didn’t ever show that amount of vulnerability to anyone. He wanted to get away from you to feel his own feelings but he also didn’t want to be apart. There was so much happening that he couldn’t accurately express what he needed to say. He didn’t have to.

It was starting to get dark. You didn’t know where you were or how long you’d been there. You had no food or water. Your stomach growled in response. Traitor.

“Loki, If you want to go....I didn’t really think this through. I’m sorry for feeling so loudly.”

“What is your name?”

“Y/n”

“Y/n I’m hungry. Are you hungry? You don’t have to tell me because I can feel that you are.”

He pulled out the tasseract and jumped to another planet. “This is Vanaheim. I’m welcomed here but I will have to limit my use of magic.”

“You’re fine I cloaked us. Not even Heimdall can see us.”

He perked up and relaxed a bit. “Look at you. Clever little witch. Whoever taught you how to do that?”

“You.”

His smile was wide and devastating. You flushed crimson. That’s his “I’m so turned on right now” smile. The smile he gave you when you both surprised and impressed him. Your heart was bursting.

His eyebrow quirked. He tilted his head slightly still smiling. “You want to kiss me right now.”

“No. I mean I do. I really do. I shouldn’t. It will mean so much to me and nothing to you. It would be too hurtful.”

He thought for a moment then leaned down to speak in your ear, “I guess you’ll have to make me fall in love with you then, Pet.”

Your body went warm all over and you needed a moment to catch your breath. You had to steel yourself against this Loki. He was cunning and quick just like your Loki. But this Loki was like a wounded animal. He was bound to lash out at any moment. He would tell you what you wanted to hear and use you only to toss you aside without care. This Loki had nothing left to lose. He was dangerous.

He saw no sense in trying to play it cool. You knew his nerves were on high alert. You weren’t sure if you should reach out to him to calm him down. You supposed he was in full on survival mode so that may not do him any good.

You slipped into a pub to grab some food. The woman behind the bar stood up straight and rounded her shoulders. She was stunning. Her eyes were a piercing violet and they told a million stories. Her full lips grinned like the cat that ate the canary. It was evident he knew her by the way he smiled back.

“You are either brave or highly stupid to show your face, Loki Odinson. Are you so confident that I won’t alert your brother that you’re here? Rumor has it Thor is searching the all the nine for you.”

He glanced back at you, “I have an insurance policy. Josefine, this is Y/N of Midgard.”

She let out a hearty laugh end slapped the counter causing you to jump. “And you’re certain Odin will let you walk free over this little mortal?! My my, Loki. You do have a death wish.” You opened your mouth to defend yourself but he stopped you.

“She is actually a witch and a powerful one at that. Show her, mortal.”

You were indignant and wanted to show her something good that wouldn’t get you noticed. You held out your hand and she regarded it with disgust. She placed her hand in yours and, when you closed your fingers, you temporarily blinded her and made her scream in pain. So much for not getting noticed. The whole pub fell into silence. You let her go leaving her a breathless mess.

“So you need a room then?” she chuckled still clutching her chest.

“And something to eat. We are famished.”

You ate in silence save for the warning about the mead being much stronger than what you might be used to on Midgard.

“If it’s anything like what comes out of your father’s vault, I will have to drink slow.”

“So you’re close to Thor then?”

“Well yeah. So were you. I know it may not feel possible right now but the two of you mended things. You died saving him.”

He snorted and looked away, “Now I am sure you lie.”

“I’m not lying. He’s the one who concocted this plan to help you escape. We didn’t really think what would happen afterwards though. I guess he thought I would bring you back to our time and we would carry on like normal.”

“Impulsive as ever I see.”

“More like desperate, Lok. You two only had each other. I don’t mean to spoil the future but even Heimdall was killed. Thor lost it. I lost it. He just wants you back. We both do. But, if I only get today, I consider today a gift.”

Neither of you spoke after that. You needed to plot your next move. He watched as you paced the floor biting your thumbnail. Millions of gears turned in your head. You played each scenario thinking about what could realistically happen if he didn’t go to Asgard. Would Jane die in the convergence if he wasn’t there to help? But maybe Asgard won’t be destroyed if Odin remains on the throne. You were a millisecond away from pulling your hair out when he said, “We’ll go to a seer in the morning. Come to bed, little mortal.” It was as if he heard what you were thinking.

There was only one bed in the room which you didn’t mind but you were worried he would. He stretched out on the bed without a single thought for your comfort. His eyes were slipping closed when you carefully lifted the covers.

You turned your backs to each other and closed your eyes. He could hear your soft sobbing and wanted nothing more than to hold you. He was unsure if his feelings were his own or yours. He nudged closer to you and a shiver ran up your spine. You felt the warmth from his skin envelop you.

Your feelings completely consumed him. Need and anguish smothered him in a dank cloud. It was heavy. He was facing down a crossroads here. He could ask for another room and be alone with his own feelings or he could roll over and give you what you craved. He placed a foot out of the bed and it felt like he was ripping apart. He had to touch you.

With a trembling hand he reached out to touch your shoulder. When you didn’t recoil he pressed his body against yours. Your skin smelled of flowers and alters and something warm and familiar that he couldn’t place. He thought of a million things to say but nothing that would be enough to punctuate this moment properly.

Your voice broke the deafening silence of the room, “I’m sorry. You don’t have to do this.”

His heart broke. “I want to.”

You slept clutching each other like baby birds in a nest made of soft blankets. Awake, you had been afraid to touch each other at all. Asleep, you looked as though the world would end if you let go.

[priyankaraa]

Cyber Sex||P.P

Pairing: Peter Parker × Reader

Warnings: Smutt(18+), Oral(Male and Female receiving), Masturbation, Swearing, Fluff and A Whole Lot of Awkwardness.

Summary: Michelle gives you an idea about filming yourself masturbating. You ask your best friend, Peter Parker to help you video it.

A/N: Yo, so I came up with this idea while listening to Cyber Sex by Doja Cat. Thanks for the follows and likes. Enjoy!!!

You sat in the cafeteria of Midtown High with your airpods stuffed in your ears listening to Cyber Sex by Doja Cat. You were addicted to the song from the first time you saw the video.

Everyone thought that you were stuck up but really your are just quiet and keep to yourself. The only people you let into your life was your friends Michelle, Ned and Peter. They were the only people that accepted your weird self.

"Hey bish. Listening to Cyber Sex again?" You pulled out your airpods.

"Ofcourse whore. I'm in love with this song and the video is great." You said pulling out your phone and replying to a few messages.

"Why don't you make a video that's similar to Cyber Sex?" Michelle suggested.

"That's crazy. And even if I do, who am I going to get to video it?" No one in their right mind would video someone masturbating. That's absurd.

"Get your bff to do it." She suggested with a smirk.

"You'll really do it?"

"No. I mean Peter." She suggested. Peter is your best friend but it would be too much to ask of him to video you. You had a crush on Peter. Who wouldn't. He is just so adorkable.

Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to ask him. He is a good guy maybe he will do it, or maybe he will be truly disgusted and never speak to you again. It's a risk you were going to take.

*****

You texted Peter and told him to come over. You didn't give him any reason. You put on one of his shirts that you stole and anxiously waited for him. Your parents were out on a date so this would be the perfect opportunity to do it.

Peter was nervous. He liked you too and was very inexperienced in this type of thing. He knew something was off when you told him to come over when your parents are out. You never did that because you never wanted the neighbours to think anything.

Peter arrived at your house at seven. He came into your room and found you sitting on your bed in nothing but your thong and his shirt. He couldn't deny how excited little Peter got(okay, not so little).

You had no idea how this simple action was turning him on. If we look at the facts, you both are nerds, barely any experience dating and totally oblivious to this kind of thing. Your panties were pooling with your wetness. Peter was just out on patrol so his hair was messy and slightly wet because he just took a shower.

"I need a favour." You croaked out. Your voice was shaky and soft. You had no idea how he was going to react and this could make your friendship awkward. "Can you video me masturbating with Cyber Sex playing in the background?" You bit your lip. It was a habit the you developed. When you were anxious you bit your lip.

That alone drove Peter crazy. His senses were of fire. He would be an idiot if he turned down your offer. All he has ever wanted to do was pin you down onto the mattress and watch you squirm and moan as he pounded into you. Although you didn't ask for sex, but he still got to watch you fuck yourself and cum.

"Okay." His answer suprised you. You thought that he would call you a slut and leave, never talking to you again. This made you happy. You handed him your phone and pressed play on the speaker. Cyber Sex by Doja Cat started to play. It was just loud enough to be recorded by the camera but it didn't drown out your moans.

You laid down flat on your back on your bed and spread your legs. You were nervous as fuck. You had never done this before. Sure, you had masturbated before but never on camera, and never with your best friend behind the camera. Why couldn't Peter be a girl.

"And action." You giggled at how seriously he was taking this. If you only knew how horny Peter was. He moved his sweats so you couldn't see his rock hard bulge. It would be too embarrassing for the both of you.

You slowly and sexily slid your panties down your legs and started playing with your clit. Peter gulped as soon as his eyes landed on your wet cunt. He felt the air get thicker and his cock started to hurt from being trapped in his pants.

You gently rubbed your clit and slowly inserted one finger into you. You pumped yourself and you hand slid under your shirt to play with your boobs. You were an average size. Maybe a B. You didn't have the biggest boobs but at least they were not plastic. Your moans and panting got louder as you approached your high. You slipped in another finger and shamelessly fucked yourself while your best friend recorded and watched.

The hair on Peter's neck was standing tall, so was his dick. It was becoming hard to hide his cock. He tried hard to not palm himself through his pants but he failed, miserably. You noticed what he was doing and you came loud.

"Oh fuck....Fuck Peter....ohh." Peter couldn't control himself anymore. He stood you phone against book on your table so that everything would still record. He watched as your hot cum leaked out of you. He wanted to taste it.

He kicked off his shoes and walked over to you. He smashed his lips to yours. This took you by surprise, but you didn't hesitate to kiss him back. He was inbetween your legs kissing the life out of you. He removed your shirt and you weren't even using a bra. His hands travelled down your body until they came in contact with your clit.

You arched your back when he skillfully rubbed and pinched your sensitive bud. His lips wandered down to your breast. His tongue nipped and sucked on your nipples. He kissed down your stomach until his lips reached your pussy. Peter stared at your heat as if it were the most tastiest thing he had ever seen. Peter looked at you, winking and licking his lips before diving in.

His tongue lapped in your juices. He savoured the taste of you, and slid two fingers in. You shamefully rid his tongue and fingers, enjoying every minute of it. Your toes curled as you hit your second orgasm, everything went white. When you came down from your high, Peter's mouth left your clit with a pop. You were breathing heavy as you slowly calmed yourself down.

You got up and stood on your knees, attaching you lips back on Peter's. You pulled his shirt off him, momentarily breaking the kiss. You hands wandered over his abs. They stopped at his bulge and you palmed him through his pants. He groaned into you mouth. You smirked against his lips, proud of the reaction you got out of him.

You pushed down his sweats and boxer briefs. He stepped out of them. You took his member in your hand and jerked him a few times. You licked a stripe on his lengthy cock. Peter threw his head back, enjoying the feeling of you jerking him off. You took him whole in your mouth and swirled your tongue on the tip of his dick. You had no idea where you learnt to do this but damn you were good.

You took him deep, you gagged a little when his dick hit the back of your throat. His hand fisted the hair at the back of your head as he bobbed your head back and forth. His hot cum shot down your throat. You let his dick fall from your mouth and wiped your lips with the back of your hand.

Peter, once again, pressed his lips to yours for a passionate kiss. "Do you trust me?" He asked staring deep into your eyes. "Yes. I do." You saw the twinkle in his brown orbs when you said that.

He pressed his lips against yours for a soft gentle kiss. He aligned himself with you. He knew you was a virgin, he himself was a virgin. He couldn't think of anyone else better to lose it to. You were the only girl he has had dreamed about like this.

He pushed himself into you, giving you time to adjust to his size. Peter was quite big, it was almost scary. He moved himself and then pulled out, watching your sweet pussy clench around fresh air. Maybe not so fresh air, the air in New York in polluted, it is everywhere, not the point.

He slammed back into you making you moan and your back arch. You couldn't help the sultry moans that left your lips.

"Fuck Pete. Right there. Fucking hell." You moaned as your walls clenched around him, squeezing him.

"So fucking tight princess. I love watching your pussy clench around my cock." He reached between your bodies and harshly rubbed your sensitive bud. Your eyes rolled back from the immense pleasure Peter was giving you.

"Pete, I'm gonna....I'm gonna cum." You managed to get out between your moans.

"Cum for me, baby." You released your juices all over Peter's cock. You almost blacked out, now that would be embarrassing. Peter came after, filling you up with his hot seed. Thankfully you were on the pill. He pulled out and collapsed next to you, out of breath.

"Y/N, I.." You cut him off. "I understand if you never want to talk to me again." You said covering yourself with your covers and looking down feeling ashamed.

"No. I like you, alot. We've been friends for ever. Will you be my girlfriend?" His boyish grin made you blush as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He didn't hesitate to hug you back. You felt safe in his arms, like you belonged there. Maybe you did.

"I like you too, Parker and yes, I'll be your girlfriend." You smashed you lips together for a sweet and passionate kiss and round two.

[miss-choco-chips]

Young Just us college au

Rent a room, Dick said. It’ll be a nice experience. Don’t just buy a flat, that’s boring and lonely.

Tim had tried to tell his brother that maybe he prefered lonely to crazy, but Dick had insisted. And everyone knew just how difficult dealing with that could be, so he knew better than to resist.

At least, he had tried to comfort himself, he knew the people he’d be rooming with. They were all his friends, an odd assortment of assholes he’d picked up on school, summer camps, vacation trips, scientific events, even comic cons, and just… fell platonically in love with them.

Maybe, as Dick said, it would be fine.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

No, it wasn’t fine.

-Jay -he whispered into the phone, hoping he wouldn't be heard by the others on the other side of the door- Jay, they are crazy. I need extraction asap. We could fake my death and I can go to University somewhere else.

The older man laughed in the other end of the receiver, the sound of pages rustling indicating Tim had caught him during his daily grading paper sesion. That was the sound of crying students dying over carefully demolished arguments.

-They are all your friends, Timbo. If you fake your death, you’ll need to start over again and meet new people.

Tim hissed.

-Exactly, babybird. Also, this is day one of sharing a house, how bad can it possibly be?

-Jay, they left the kitchen lights on. It’s daytime! Why the hell do they need the lights on? Aren’t they aware of how big the bill is gonna be if they are like this?

-...Timmy, you… you are a billionaire. I think that should be the last of your concerns.

-That’s not the only thing. It’s so noisy, Jay. I choose the attic room hoping it’ll be nice and quiet. It’s not. I can hear everything. What do I do if some of them pair up? I’ll be stuck here listening to them having sex forever!

-...I don’t know where to begin.

-You can start by contacting B for me. He was right when he said it wasn’t a good idea for me to live with other people. But I can’t call him to help me out of this, because I think Dick blocked my number in his phone, and my emails don’t seem to be reaching him.

-He said it because you are the purest of his children, and he knew college was corruptive enough without adding dorm sharing to it; that was his version of helicopter parenting. But Timbo, it’s moving day. You’ve been there for less than five hours. And you already emailed B?

-The first thing Slobo did when he came in was to fart. In the middle of the living room. I can’t live with them, they are animals!

-They are your best friends, you’ve known them forever.

-But I never had to deal with them in a closed space for an unlimited amount of time!!! I’m trapped here.

-...

-...!

-...Are you hiding in a closet?

-...no. That would be stupid, in a three story house where I have my own/

-You are, ain’tcha?

-I am. Please help me?

Long sigh- I’ll meet you for coffee on the place near the Economics building so you have an excuse to be out for the evening while the others finish their moving. You’re done with your part, right?

-Yes! Thank you!

-You owe me.

-Next time Dick wants bonding time, I’ll sacrifice myself volunteering so you can run.

-And this is why you’re my favorite. Be there in ten.

-.-.-.-.-.-

-Tim? Tim! Here you are!

Blinking was a thing Tim suddenly remembered he needed to do, and he did it a few times as his eyes were dragged away from his book by a pair of hands on his cheeks.

-Kon? What are you doing in the library?

The other boy was panting slightly, flushed from what Tim guessed was a desperate run there.

-I was looking for you! You never came back after classes were done for the day, and you didn’t pick up your phone. We were very worried, dude. 

-I was just studying, chill.

-It’s almost midnight.

No, it couldn’t be.

-No, it isn’t.  I haven’t been here that long.

Serious and slightly worried, Conner thrusted his own phone in Tim’s face and… uh. Look at that. It was nearly midnight.

-Oh. Got distracted with research, sorry.

-It’s been barely two weeks, how much can you possibly need to study?

Unprompted, Kon started to help him pack his books and papers. He seemed utterly amazed by the almost illegible graphs and charts.

-No, this isn’t homework. I’m working on a thing for WE…

The rest of the way home was spent with Tim talking Conner’s ear off about shit he had absolutely no idea about, but didn’t complain, just holding Tim’s backpack with one hand while steering his sleep deprived friend back home with the other.

-.-.-.-.-.

-Bart? -Tim yawned, getting into the kitchen and raising a confused eyebrow at his friend- It’s… three am. What are you doing awake?

-Stress baking -the smaller boy replied, never stopping stirring the bowl- You?

-Papers and presentations.

-Classes or WE?

-Bit of both. What are you making?

-Cupcakes. Want some?

-They’ll go great with coffee, thanks.

They spent the next half hour waiting for the oven to do its magic talking about video games, classes and evil teachers.

-Your brother is the worst. TA. Ever. He always grades my papers and he’s a bitch about them.

-He relishes in the pain. It’s what keeps him young. I swear he never grew  past fifteen.

-It’s scary, and honestly so annoying. Like, I get pointing out mistakes, but he doesn’t need to be a passive aggressive ass about it.

-I’ll let him know what you think.

-Please don’t. I’m afraid of him, and the power he holds in his hands. The power to make me fail Creative Writing.

-Why are you even taking that class? Actually, what even is your major?

A shrug, and before Bart could open his mouth to reply, the timer let them know the cupcakes where done.

-You can have one before bedtime, dude. The circles under your eyes look like make up at this point. 

-You are one to talk, mister Stress Baking at Three in the Morning.

-But unlike you, I don’t have to be up at the ass of dawn. C’mon, have one of these and back up you go.

-Bite me.

-I’d rather bite this peanut butter miracle, but if you insist…

-No! Bart, get away from me!

-Then go to bed!

-Go to hell!

-I AM in hell! I have Jason Fucking Todd as my TA!

-IF YOU DON’T GO BACK TO BED RIGHT NOW, I’LL KICK YOU BOTH ALL THE WAY THERE! -Cassie’s voice echoed in the walls, and they both blanched at the reminder that her room was, in fact, in ground floor.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

A part of college Tim had never considered, let alone readied himself for, was the… party bit. 

-What do you mean, of course you’re coming -laughed Anita, clutches firm on Tim’s sleeve as she dragged him into hers and Cassie’s room.

-No, I have to study for…

-You don’t have any midterm or final this week. I know, because I checked. No papers due either. This is literally the perfect time for you to party. 

-I can’t, I…

-Suck at socializing? Yeah, cher, I’m aware. That’s why awesome me is taking you as my plus one for this party. No need to thank me, glad to be your social buffer whenever you need me.

Tim started to resist in earnest when they got into the room and he caught a glimpse of the clothing Anita had apparently chosen for him.

-There’s no way I’m fitting into those pants! Let me go!

-I’ve seen you squeezing your butt into the vent that one time when Kon threw the key to the coffee maker cabinet inside it. If you could get in there, these pants are a piece of cake.

-No!

-Don’t make me hurt you, Drake.

-Anita…!

-Ugh! -she stopped, dropping Tim on her bed and crossing her arms. She averted her eyes- My ex is gonna be at the party. I might have been exaggerating a bit when I said I was over him, but I already promised my friends I was gonna be there. I… could really use your help here. I know it’s not your scene, but Kon and Bart have midterms, Slobo would straight up punch my ex with his astounding lack of subtlety, Miguel is away dealing with family stuff, and the girls are awesome but not really what I need right now.

A pause.

-Okay, but I’m absolutely not putting on that crop top. And we better not end up wasted, I have a reputation to uphold.

Spoiler alert: he did put on the crop top. And they had to call Conner to walk them home after the third time Tim walked into a lamp post and Anita fell into the campus’ pond.

-.-.-.-.-

They were walking back home late on a Friday when they were approached by a group of stupid, drunk dudebros. Tim was already dreading the moments to come before they even spoke, just by the way they kept eyeing Cassie’s legs and Anita’s rack. Cissie herself was wearing loose pants and a sweater, so she was safe from their disgusting examination. Not that it kept her from crossing her arms and looking down at the assholes.

-Heyyyyy, ladies. Wanna go clubbing with us?

Tim shrugged- He’s talking to you, girls. I’m out. Have fun.

Cassie caught him by his hoodie before he could take a single step. He heard her warning clear as day and sighed, defeated.

-Yess, you can go -slurred Dudebro number two, waving him away- There’ three of us, and three of those pretty things. You can get lost. 

-See, Cass? Hear the gentlemen. You don’t need me here.

Anita kicked him in the shin.

-No. We just got our nails done. You either solve this peacefully, or take care of it if it turns dirty. Why do you even walk us home if not to protect us from creepers like these?

A loud ‘hey’ came from the dudebros, but Tim ignored them. Silently, he pointed at Cassie’s legs (he had seen her crushing a watermelon between them once), Cissie’s arms (a thing of beauty that made multiple lesbians all around campus cry) and Anita’s katana (that she wasn’t supposed to keep on her person around other students, but who was gonna enforce any rules on the girl with the giant knife?).

-Excuse me? You three should be protecting me. I’m a rich, sheltered boy.

Apparently done being ignored, the three idiots decided this was a good time to throw the first punch. Which Tim dodged, without breaking eye contact with Cassie. She raised her eyebrow, not moving an inch. Cissie was examining her nails. Anita’s eyes promised hell.

He sighed, turned around, caught the second coming punch, and used the hand under his palm to force the dudebro to his knees. A knee to the face and then he turned to the other two. 

Next time, Slobo was walking with them.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Flip side:  the attic room had its own bathroom. Significantly smaller than the ones on the other two floors, but hey, no sharing. 

The downside: apparently, the bathroom vents all connected with one another, and because of their aligning schedules, he often took showers at the same time Miguel did.

Flip side: Miguel had the singing voice of an angel, and the acoustic was fantastic. Showers were rarely boring now.

Downside again: Tim often forgot himself and sang along, but his voice… wasn’t as pretty.

Flip side again: at least, judging by Miguel’s smile, he found it adorable rather than pathetic.

Downside number three: Greta and Cissie’s room, by some unsolved mystery, also had connecting vents to the bathroom, and the archer girl was… less charitable about Tim’s inability to sing.

Flip side: Greta liked him better than most of their house mates, and she had more than enough dirt on Cissie to keep her from sharing the secret of Tim’s awful voice. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

-Hey, baby bird. Sorry I’m calling just now, it’s been a while.

-Hey Jay. Don’t worry, you’re busy grading papers.

-How do you know?

-Bart was crying in the tub this morning. Completely clothed and eating nachos with whipped cream, I might add.

-What is that boy even studying? I know he has Chem classes, Roy is his TA, and Kory saw him in the designer’s building. 

-That is an unsolved mystery for the ages. 

-Hey, speaking of your housemates, how’s it going?

Tim stopped on his way out of the kitchen, eyes growing fond as he examined the group on the living room. They were fighting over that night’s movie choice. He didn’t know why they tried, Greta was gonna win. Nobody could resist her and Miguel’s puppy eyes. 

-It’s… it’s been great, actually.

-Uh huh.

-But don’t tell Dick. He’ll be unbearably smug.

-Of course I won’t. You still have that time I crashed B’s favorite car on me.

-Oh, Oh fuck! -came Slobo’s voice- TIM, BRING THE FIRE EXTINGUISHER!

A loud crash. Tim winced, eyes leaving his friend in favor of the wall. If he didn’t see it, it wasn’t happening.

-TIM, BUD, WE NEED SOME HELP HERE!

-...what was that, Timbo?

-Nothing.

-TIM, TIM, THE TV IS ON FIRE!!! COME QUICKLY BEFORE IT REACHES THE XBOX OR SO HELP ME GOD I’M MURDERING EVERYONE IN THIS ROOM!

-...Tim?

-Don’t tell B.

-Gotcha. Going to save their lives?

-More like hiding in my room until they sort themselves out or die. Good luck on those papers.

-Good luck on surviving.

[amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines]

FP//never a night alone, anywhere you wanna go

Request: Can I request a FP/Reader where reader used to tease FP about being a jock during high school and how he went from a gang member to the sheriff is like the opposite of what happened in school, FP points out the same thing happened to reader and they joke about swapping places, sorta fluffy, lighthearted-ness

hey! title comes from 5sos’ new song Old Me (go listen to it!) I though the title of the song fit with the theme of the request! I hope you like it! also, the reader is around about the same age as fp, but well, it doesn’t really matter that much. 

The bell above the door rings, alerting FP that someone has entered the diner. The slightly paranoid version of himself makes his head lift instantly, just to make sure its nobody dangerous, despite being on his first break in a 12 hour shift, but he soon feels himself relax when he realizes its just you.

You stop by the door and look around, lowering the hood of your coat and shaking the rain of yourself. Your eyes scan the menu and FP watches as you make your mind up, your lips mumbling slightly as you read. He doesn’t really know why you read the menu each time you come in. One, because you’ve had the whole thing memorized since you were about 10. And two, because you get the same thing every time. But despite that, FP’s smile doesn’t fade, and he watches you order before calling your name.

As soon as you hear him shout your name your heart skips a beat and soft smile appears on your face. You’ve known FP since you were both in high school and despite everything, he hasn’t really changed that much, and if he has, its for the better.

“Are you ditching class?” You tease and sit opposite him.

“Ha. Ha.” He deadpans. “I’m on my break if you must know.”

“Thats what you used to say during 4th period science.”

“Yeah, but you were also there. So who’s really in the wrong?” He quirks an eyebrow and you cross your arms.

“Ohhh, is that how its going to be?”

“Umm.” He pretends to think for a few seconds, a cocky smirk on his face before he looks you in the eye, his smirk growing. “Yeah.” He nods. “That is how its going to be.”

“Wow.” You shake your head, despite the fact that your heart is going a million beats a second just at the sight of his smirk. “You know, if I was you. I wouldn’t get too comfy on that pedestal you’ve put yourself on.”

“Oooo.” He teases. “Is that a threat?”

“No.” You shake your head and look around nonchalantly. “Its just a gentle reminder that at one point you used to be badass, and now look at you.” You look him up and down and he shifts, sitting up properly to stare at you.

“And whats that supposed to mean?”

“Think about it. You went from jock, to gang leader, to sheriff.”

“And?”

“And you’re old. Do you want help getting off your high horse, I wouldn’t want you to break a hip.” You tease, a smirk now resting on your lips as he looks at you annoyed, despite the hit of amusement in his eyes. “You’ve done the complete opposite to what you did in high school. You stopped being popular to be a ‘bad boy’. And then you stopped that to go back to being popular.”

“I wouldn’t say sheriff is a ‘popular’ job.” He rolls his eyes. “But I get your point.” He adds and you smile triumphantly, stealing one of his fries and it feels like the two of you are 16 again.

Both of you hiding in Pop’s until its safe for him to go home. Outside seemed like such a scary place to you, filled with mean people, both familiar and not. As well as all the pressures you had to face, whether it was school or friends or what you thought was love. But inside the diner with the red neon light, you were safe, even if it was just for a few hours. You were happy, laughing and joking with each other as you stole food off the other’s plate and split a milkshake. And even if it didn’t seem like it then...even if you didn’t realize it. You were really in love. Something that you both seemed to have carried well into your adult life, despite marriage and kids (something that only happened to one of you). But right now, you’re just as blind as you were when you were 16.  

“However. I wouldn’t be so quick to judge.” He adds and you freeze before looking up at him.

“And why’s that?” You try to sound as normal as possible, but he knows you’re slightly nervous about what he’s about to say.

“Y/n. You’ve always been so quick to judge.” He starts and leans towards you, pushing his food to the side so he can put his hands on the table . “Like when me and that Vixen, Lily, fooled around in the backseat of my car.”

“I only judged, because I was in the front.”

“Thats not the point.” He waves his hand dismissively causing you to huff. “The point is, the same thing happened to you.”

“I’m not a police officer, let alone the sheriff. And I don’t know if you remember, but I was never a Vixen, sooooo.”

“I know.” He nods solemnly. “And that fact made me miserable every single day of school.” 

“Gross.” Your face scrunches is disgust and he laughs loudly.

“You may not have been a vixen, but you were a straight-A student. And then what happened? Oh yeah, you also joined the serpents, around about the same time I did, wasn’t it?”

“I only joined to support you. I know you didn’t want to and I didn’t want you to feel alone.” You argue and his eyes soften as he grabs your hand.

“I know.” The tone of his voice changes from playful to serious within seconds and your expression matches his. “And I appreciated it...I still do.”

“Well, what are friends for?” You blush under the weight of his stare and you’re not entirely how much longer you’re going to be able to form coherent thoughts if he doesn’t stop. “Continue.”

“Yeah, so you joined the serpents. And now look at you. You have a fancy ass apartment in the most expensive part of Riverdale, you run a business that you came up with and you have a ton of money. You haven’t done so bad for yourself Y/l/n.”

“Wow, a real genuine compliment from FP Jones?”

“I compliment you every single day.” He huffs.

“You know, telling me you wished I was a cheerleader when we were both 17 isn’t a compliment.”

“Are you sure?” He teases and you shove him lightly.

“Seriously though Y/n. You’ve done good.”

“You too.” You smile softly. “You’ve definitely made younger you proud. You’ve made me proud too.”

“Younger you or you now?” He wonders.

“Both.” You nod and send him a warm smile. “So how long is your break?”

“I’ve got another 15-ish minutes. Unless something happens...which lets be honest, this is Riverdale. I’m genuinely surprised nothing has happened yet.” He replies and the two of you laugh.

“Here’s your food Y/n.” Pop smiles as he places your tray in front of you and you and FP smile brightly at him.  

“So, 15 minutes. What are you going to do with all that time?”

“Probably steal your food.” He shrugs and grabs a handful of fries.

“Hey!” You slap his hand away from you. “Get your own Jones!” You add and chuckles before stealing some more. “Dude!”

“You loooove me.” He teases, making a kissy face at you which makes you roll your eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. You keep telling yourself that.” You mutter. “I might pay someone to rob somewhere or something, just so you have to leave.”

“Ouch.” He feigns offense and you smile sarcastically at him. A comfortable silence takes over you both, and while you eat he checks his phone, occasionally stealing some of your food.

“Who was that?” You wonder.

“Jughead.” He replies.

“Oh, how is he settling in to that new school?” You wonder and the two of you share a gentle look. “The last time I asked you said he was struggling with his roommate. Is everything okay now?” 

“Yeah, he’s dealing with it...in his own way.” He chuckles. 

“What about Jellybean? Is she okay after Gladys?” 

“She’s still upset but thats understandable. She’ll get through it though.”

“I can talk to her if you want?” You ask and his face lights up. 

“That would be great yeah. She really likes you.” 

“Okay.” You nod. “I’ll stop by later on. I have to go into work for a few hours but then I’ll come by and I’ll bring food too.” You go back to eating but you can feel him staring at you, your skin burning under his gaze. “What?” You ask and look at him, there’s a soft smile on his face that flickers slightly once you look him in the eye, and he takes a deep breath before starting to speak. 

“Y/n?” 

“Yeah?” You reply, still looking at him confused.

“There’s been something I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while now.” 

“Right?” 

“And its totally fine if you don’t want to o-” 

“FP?” You interrupt. “Just ask me already.” 

“Would you maybe like to go on a date with me at some point in the near future when you’re not busy?” He rambles quickly and it takes you a few seconds to actually take in what he’s just said. 

“FP.” You start and he sighs, looking at the table. 

“I’ve screwed up haven’t I? Just ignore me.” 

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that.” 

“Just ignore me?” 

“No.” You shake your head. “Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.” 

“Oh-Ohhhh.” He smiles. “Okay. When are you free?” 

“Tomorrow?” 

“Yeah.” He nods. “That er, that works for me.” 

“I would tonight but I have to see a very cute guy and bring him and his family food.” 

“Who-ohhh. I’m sure he won’t mind if you explain you’re going on a date with the sheriff.” 

“Hmm, I dunno. Because he’s kind of a badass. I don’t want him to kick your ass.” You joke making him snort.

“I could definitely take him. I have a pretty dark past.” 

“You? I don’t believe it.” 

“Yeah, well. There’s a lot you don’t know about me Y/n.” He winks. 

“Is that a promise?” 

“Definitely.” He replies and steals another fry before standing up. He grabs his jacket and hat before looking at you again. “I’ll see you later Y/n.” 

“Do you want me to bring pizza tonight?” You ask and he places a hand over his heart. 

“Do you want to skip the date and go straight to sex, because you are the woman of my dreams.” 

“Wow.” You laugh. “Now that I think about it, you really haven’t changed since high school.” 

“I know.” He grins. “I remember asking you that in school too, only this time, you didn’t turn me down!” He cheers. 

“I’m starting to regret that decision.” You sing as he chuckles one last time before walking out. 

[hyperions-strap]

for the abo prompts?: rhys and jack have been trying for a baby for a while. nothing seems to be working until one morning jack wakes up with his scent different and sweeter, and as it turns out, rhys is prolly a little too into the pregnant jack smell.

✨💞 Done and posted over on AO3 💞✨

Feel free to send any more prompt ideas 💘

-

Jack lets his head hang like dead weight, trying to enjoy the feeling of Rhys' knot swollen inside him. His body is aching, only the sweet bliss of endorphins from his alpha knot relieves the pain. They've been having sex every available moment, it's only just starting to become tiresome and more of a chore than a pleasure. Jack always feels content afterwards, when Rhys is practically ready to pass out, and they just stay together, quiet, enjoying the release of their bonded pheromones wrapping around them both like a blanket. 

It's more enjoyable for Jack when he's laying on his back, of course, but they've tried that dozens of times, they wanted to test other positions. Admittedly, appreciating how thick Rhys' knot is works best when he's sat up straight, riding him. 

He rests his hands on Rhys shoulders, watching the younger man's chest slowly rise and fall with each steady breath. He doesn't even notice the touch of Rhys' flesh hand against his hip - not until there's an accompanied voice to match.

"Jack," his voice is barely even a whisper. It's wrecked from exhaustion, cracking under the weight of itself, but still manages to be  quintessentially Rhys' at its core. Jack lifts his eyes to look at the younger man. His heart flutters when he sees him smiling. "How you feeling?" 

There's a sorrowful silence for a mere second, before Jack exhales the heaviness cluttering his chest. "I'm fine, kiddo. How's your dick feeling?" He does his best to act normal, but the withering corners of his smile are more of a give away than he realises. Rhys extends a hand to stroke his cheek - the cold metal is surprisingly soothing against Jack's bare cheek, nice against the rough edges of his scar.

"It'll happen, Jack. These things just take time for some people."

Rhys' optimism is warming. It does surprisingly help Jack feel less broken, but it can't work miracles. They've been trying for months to get pregnant, but to no luck. They've seen doctors, fertility specialists, voodoo witches, and hippie love gurus claiming to know the secrets to a bountiful fertile bond, but nothing. There's nothing wrong with either of them, they're both perfectly fertile, everything is in working order, it's just a lack of lady luck, so to speak. Jack doesn't want to admit it, but having no success is beginning to weigh in his self worth more than he appreciates. He's never been a lovey dovey, family oriented, domestic omega, but something about starting a family with Rhys feels unexplainably right. He'd say it's destiny, but that's too cheesy for his liking.

Why couldn't they make a baby then? It seemed like child's play, any moron with a knot and an above average IQ could make it happen, but inexplicably Rhys and Jack couldn't. They'd synced their ruts and heats, they'd used fertility enhancements, they tried every old wives tale as far back as they went, but it seemed like fate had other plans. After a while, the frustration began to infuriate Jack. He wanted this so bad - to give Rhys the family he deserves. It's the one thing he can't threaten or bargain his way into getting! His status as an omega hasn't bothered him since he was a teenager, but now he can't help but resent himself. 

He's lucky to be bonded with the most level-headed, docile alpha known to man. Jack could easily put down any knucklehead that pushed him too much, it didn't matter if they were an alpha or not, but having someone with patience and understanding certainly helped Jack's blood pressure. Sure, stereotypes about alphas and omegas weren't inherently true - Jack and Rhys were proof of that - but Jack couldn't deny when his hormones and pheromones for their heaviest and clouded his judgement, he certainly appreciated the loving embrace of an alpha that adored him no matter what.

After a while, Rhys' knot begins to go down, and Jack, with about as much grace as an oversized gorilla, pops off his lap and flops down beside him on the bed. His eyes shut the second his back meets the mattress. A hand rests against his flat stomach, playing with the coarse hairs covering his skin. Jack peers down to see Rhys watching him, content to do so forever.

"I should probably elevate my hips or some shit, right?" Jack teases, lifting said area and holding himself in position with his hands propped against the small of his back. "Keeps the baby goo inside or whatever."

Rhys grimaces, shaking his head. "Don't call it 'baby goo', that's disgusting."

"True though."

"It's cum - just call it cum!"

Jack laughs. He lets the lower half of his body fall back down, bouncing slightly against the springs. Rhys goes back to mindlessly playing with his belly hair, twirling it, sweeping it one way, enjoying how it feels. Jack tries to ignore the pestering voices crawling out of their hiding holes, telling him he's worthless, that all his accomplishments have been for nothing if he can't have a baby with Rhys. They tell him he deserves this, for all the bad he's done, for being a dictator, for being so selfish most of his adult life.

Rhys can see the wheels turning in Jack's head. The older man thinks he's subtle, but he's as easy to read as a kid's book. He rolls on to his front and crawls up to rest on Jack's chest, pouting playfully, walking his fingers up his biceps. Jack smiles softly.

"It'll happen." He says quietly, but it does little to reassure Jack. Rather, it makes him frown.

"What if it doesn't, huh? Will you be okay without a brat to take care off?"

"You're really convincing me you want this to begin with when you call it a brat." He laughs, but Jack rolls his eyes and turns away. It's harder on him, Rhys knows - it's always the way with omegas, but when your partner is hell-bent on denying old fashioned stereotypes associated with his status, it likely will result in deep seated repression, only to finally show itself in abrupt murderous rampages. Getting Jack to admit he even wanted kids to begin with had been a tedious trial, and it hurts him to know he opened a wound he can't heal.

Rhys takes Jack's face in both his hands and kisses him tenderly, drawing out the passion so it sinks in deep with Jack. He loves him more than words could ever begin to convey, even on his worst days, and he hates to know he can't immediately make things better with the flip of a switch. 

"It," he kisses him again, "will," and again, "happen. I know it will." Rhys says on the end of a heavy breath, kissing him one more time for longer. Jack moans softly, his hand looping round to hold Rhys' waist.

"Will you be okay if it doesn't?" Jack sounds so fragile, maybe even a little scared. Rhys looks at him shocked before kissing his forehead.

"If we've still got each other, that's all that matters, okay?"

Jack accepts it for now, just so he can settle in for the night and get some sleep. It won't keep him happy forever. The inevitable self loathing will come back, stronger, but all he can do is keep going. He doesn't think Rhys is lying either - he probably will be okay with just Jack if they never have kids, but it's still scary to imagine a world where Jack's better half leaves him because he was some kind of detective omega. He puts his arms around Rhys and does his best to think of good things. Against all his instincts, he even says a soft prayer to himself, hoping for good news.

-

A few weeks go by with no change. They still fuck like rabbits and research any new fertility treatments available, but it's boring routine at that point. Eventually Jack suggests they think realistically about giving up, which Rhys fights him on and insists they just need to stay positive, but the older man gets serious fast. It's easy to assume Jack's just being his usual aggressive self, dominating the conversation, belittling Rhys to feel like a tough guy, but the truth is he can't handle feeling like a failure much longer. Waking up, taking tests, seeing no change, it's starting to seriously break his heart. 

One morning however, when Rhys had to spend an all nighter at the office, Jack wakes up with what feels like a groggy hangover. Everything is just slightly discombobulated, his limbs feeling heavier than usual, and his eyes take a lot longer to adjust before he can confidently sit up without getting dizzy. He's not sure why he feels so peculiar - he hasn't been drunk in God knows how many months - but he's too tired to really ponder it. He rubs his eyes tirelessly with the balls of his palm, followed by stretching his arms out wide above his head until he hears a distinct crack from his back. 

He thinks about getting himself breakfast, but the comforting heat of his bed is too intoxicating. He wants to snuggle down again, bury himself under his duvet and sleep away his day without a care in the world. Thankfully, just as his stomach begins to rumble, he hears the front door echo, and Rhys' tired voice call up to him. 

"Before you collapse in bed, do me a favour and make some French toast, will ya, pumpkin?" Jack yells out. He grins victoriously when he hears Rhys groan in response. The sound of cutlery clinking together is like music to Jack's ears. 

When Rhys looks shattered when he walks into the bedroom with Jack's food. His tie hangs loosely around his neck, along with his shirt untucked and left scruffy after popping a few buttons, and his eyes struggle to keep themselves open. When the plate is in Jack's hands, he haphazardly clambers out of his suit pants and collapses with a thud into the bed beside Jack, face first in the pillows.

Jack eats his toast, staring at Rhys, amused by the sight of his wonderful alpha disheveled. It takes a few minutes before Rhys moves again, lazily sitting up and running a hand through his hair. The only sound between them is Jack's crunching.

Then Rhys frowns. He turns sharply to face the older man, staring at him quizzically. When Jack catches him he pauses mid bite.

"Wha-?" He mumbles past the toast in his mouth before taking a bite and swallowing. Rhys flares his nostrils and sniffs the air loudly, to Jack's dismay. "What's the deal, cupcake? You're being a freakin' weirdo!"

"Something smells good…" Is all Rhys can say before he's feverishly sniffing the air again. Jack rolls his eyes.

"I'm eating French toast, it's probably that."

Rhys shakes his head. "No, this is different...it's kind of sweet."

"French toast can be sweet--"

"It's not French toast, Jack!" Rhys snatches the plate from his hands to put in the bedside table. Without warning he grabs Jack possessively and sticks his nose flat against the crook of Jack's neck, scenting along their bonding point. It causes the older man to shudder, a sudden spike of heat rushing through his veins and lighting every muscle he has aflame. Rhys inhales deeply up and down his neck repeatedly. It's really sweet - almost sickenly so, but not so much Rhys would want to pull away. It's like a familiar smell, homely, that makes him want more and more so he can unlock a treasured secret. He inhales more, as if even possible.

Jack starts to feel wavy. Rhys' own alpha pheromones begin to fill the air, possessing Jack, gently rocking him into a tranquil trance. He's fully aware of what's happening, but his body is lighter than he remembers it being. It's a safe feeling, an uncontrollable peace that happens when Rhys is blissfully possessive. He moves his arm to touch Rhys' face, wanting to stroke his cheek and maybe try persuade him into a kiss if he's coherent enough to do so. He gets as far as Rhys shoulder before the younger man takes his hand in his own.

Then Rhys licks Jack's sensitive skin, and moans like he's experienced food for the first time after being starved. He licks again, then nips him softly, stopping when Jack starts purring a little too sensually. It takes a lot to pull himself away, but when he does he immediately knows the answers to all his questions. He takes Jack's face in his hands and kisses him excitedly, knocking Jack out of his state.

"You're pregnant!" Rhys cheerfully yells, bombarding Jack with congratulatory kisses. The older man mumbles in confusion, eventually able to detain Rhys from his wild excitement to actually understand what's happening. He stares at Rhys, his eyes wide like dinner bowls.

"Run that by me again, kitten?" He asks urgently, and Rhys obliges, taking his hands in his own.

"Your smell, Jack, it's different! It's us, it's a mix, and it's the most amazing smell I've ever smelled in my entire life!"

Jack is still visibly confused though, baffled by the frantic happiness his partner displays. He lets the words sink in for a moment, then moves to get out of bed, pacing the spot. He thinks about the impossibility, how it's a cruel prank, or a trick, or maybe even a dream. Is there a smell? The French toast still smells pretty good, he doesn't want to say it's him in case it's just his own gluttony tricking him.

Then Rhys pounces out of bed and nuzzles into his neck again, sniffing in short bursts before inhaling deeply again. Jack's legs go tingly, and he has to catch himself against the wall before he falls in a slump. He can feel Rhys' cock tenting his boxers, pushing up against him eagerly. 

"Kid, slow your roll," Jack manages to get out, pushing Rhys off him so he can see his face, still lit up like a Christmas tree. "I'm still catching up. What's that nose of yours trying to tell me?"

Rhys composes himself best he can. He takes Jack's hands in his own and pulls them to his chest. His heart is beating like a jackhammer, fearing it might burst any second. Jack can't fault him, his is about the same if Rhys is really about to confirm what he thinks he is.

"It worked, Jack. You're pregnant."

The words carry such weight to them, Jack's embarrassed to say he actually tears up. It's a surprise to Rhys, he hadn't expected the older man to shed a tear for just about anything, but there he is, waterfalls falling down his cheeks despite his best efforts to stop. Jack frowns despite them, says it's Rhys' fault for inducing some omega hormone in him, but it doesn't ruin the moment. Rhys pulls him in for a long, loving hug and squeezes tight. He takes joy in nuzzling his nose into his neck again, scenting what he's now sure is their offspring, snug and protected inside Jack. It's the sweetest smell he'll ever know, he's sure. 

They book a doctor's appointment to make sure it's all true, and sure enough it's confirmed. Jack gets a scan and they see their pea sized baby on a blurry black and white monitor. It's almost surreal, Jack's convinced he's still dreaming hours after the appointment. It doesn't fully register until he's back home standing in the kitchen, and Rhys has his arms wrapped around his middle. His hands are placed gently over where their child will grow. It makes both their hearts flutter to think about.

When Jack feels an airy fuzziness coming over himself again, he groans, trying to knock Rhys off. "Stop scenting me, for God's sake, or I won't be able to stand the next 9 freakin' months!"

Rhys chuckles. He kisses their bonding spot softly and leans over his shoulder slightly. "It's a really good smell though, Jack."

"Well what do you expect, it's me you're talking about. I produce only the best."

"Yeah," Rhys spins Jack around so they're facing one another and holds him in his arms. He can't help the huge, dopey grin lifting the entirety of his face. "You really do."

[meet-me-in-the-kitchen]

Blurb: No Glove, No Love

prompt from this list

In which Harry and Y/N’s roommates are fucking, and so they must spend time with each other at two in the morning. fratboy!harry

“We both got kicked out because our roommates are having sex so now we’re playing scrabble”

—

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Y/N hissed as she rolled her eyes, pressing her ear against the door to her dormitory, face crumpling in disgust when breathy moans, animalistic grunts, and the distinct slapping of flesh could be heard through the barrier.

“You, too, Juliet?”

She had to stop herself from rolling her eyes physically into the back of her head, once she heard the familiar deep, teasing voice and irritating nickname. Auditioning for that stupid play had never been the plan, but their English Lit professor had thought it would be a splendid idea for the first years to do ‘Romeo and Juliet’ for seniors planning to be freshmen next year who were touring their university. He had begged for Y/N to take the role of Juliet, and once he’d offered extra credit and given her that hopeful, ‘I see potential in you, you’re my best student’ glance, she had reluctantly obliged.

“Don’t call me that, Styles,” she warned, sighing a bit in exasperation at a particularly loud moan. Daddy. “What do you mean by ‘you, too’?”

She faces him, unable to stop herself from glancing over him. He’s wearing a jersey with his ‘STYLES’ written in bold ink on the back, stripes on his face stretching from his cheeks to where curls frame it to show team spirit, courtesy of the football game today. And, of course, he’s wearing his signature smug smirk, one dimple poking out of his slightly tanned face, jawline sharp and green eyes brighter with dilated pupils from what she guesses was drinking alcohol during the post-game victory frat party. His intoxicated eyes were trained intently on her, also swooping over in a way which left her slightly dizzy for reasons she didn’t understand.

“M’ roommate’s fuckin’ someone as well,” he nods, y/n trying not to flinch from how brass the thickly accented curse words sound coming out of his mouth. Everything sounds sharper and more meaningful out of his mouth. It bothers her.

“But Layla’s doing it with Zayn...”

“Niall and some girl from the party,” he explained, her nodding brisquely in understanding. They both leaned against the wall, on opposite sides from each other in silence for a few moments.

“Speaking of, why weren’t you at the party?”

It sounds careless coming out of his mouth, as if he’s speaking just for the sake of speaking, but Y/N can’t help but think of how he had noticed she wasn’t there.

“Didn’t feel like it,” she confessed. “It was loud and crowded. Not really my scene, today. Didn’t feel like having someone slip something in my drink.”

“I wouldn’t let that happen to you,” he frowned, eyebrows pinching together. She shrugged.

“I watched the football game, because my friends dragged me, but that’s it.”

He recalls looking for her in the stands, and smiles teasingly.

“Very strong school spirit, Juliet. One day, you’ll be wearing my jersey in the stands and screaming my name.”

She ignores the second half of the comment.

“I like to go to the games, just wasn’t feeling it today. I have to tutor some students tomorrow, and needed to save my energy.”

“Well, I wish you were there,” he said, a sincere look in his drunken eyes, wincing as Zayn started screaming Layla’s name for the fifth time. She scoffed, and he snapped his gaze back to her defensively.

“What?”

“I mean, you’d want me there for what? To set fire to my hair?”

“No,” he denied with conviction, emotions Y/N couldn’t quite decipher flashing in his darkening jade irises. “Why is it so fucking hard for you to believe that I want you there?”

Did she really think he did all of this, because he wanted to trick her into something or use her? He didn’t admit it often, but he cared for Y/N. He looked out for her during every party, read the books she read to understand her mental environment, and even if she didn’t want to be with him or share the future he’d dreamed of having with her, despite his dark playboy reputation, it would be okay if they were at least on speaking terms. She seemed to despise him. He’d grown fond of her wit and fiery nature, how she always blew strands of hair falling in her eyes as she was knees deep in some research papers or reading Nietzsche in the library. She was everything: smart, hilarious, very pretty, empathetic, and she managed to get his heart to skip a beat every time, without fail. When he’d refused to let her ever walk alone to her dorm after late hours, helped her with notes when she’d missed a class, brought her her favorite order from the local cafe when she was sick.. He’d thought she would have gotten the hint that he liked her. More than liked her. She would look down and keep walking away, thinking he was mocking her, and it hurt his heart more than he’d let on. He wanted to wake up and make her breakfast in the morning, kissing her after a game while she was in his jersey. His reputation kept that from happening, and it haunted him.

“What are you trying to say, Styles?” she asked tiredly.

“I’m saying that I want you there,” he said importantly, searching her eyes. She was confused. Why was he being so intense? “I need you to know that. I’m not mocking you. I don’t know why... I just want you there. I don’t hate you.”

“Okay...” she trailed off, unsure of where this conversation was going. As the groaning from inside her dormitory grew more frequent. “Oh, God.”

Harry’s eyes widened dramatically, and she had to laugh a bit, because of how comical it all was.

“Why’s your face like that?”

“Do you think..” he paused. “They’re using a condom?”

“Of course, they are,” she exclaimed. “They both know better.”

“Yeah, but maybe they’re drunk.”

She nervously laughed.

“Nah, it’s fine.”

“You’re right.”

A few seconds passed. Y/N groaned.

“You’re stressing me out,” she pointed an accusative finger at him, to which he raised his arms in defence. “What if they aren’t? The world can’t handle another Layla.”

“Should I go in there?”

“Gross, Harry!”

“I wouldn’t look,” he snapped. “I’d just give them a condom and leave.”

“Fine,” she bit her lip, him getting up to go and fetch a condom from his dormitory. “Wait!”

He turned after halting his light jog, glancing at her quizzically. She reached under the elastic band of her skirt, and pulled out a condom. His jaw dropped. Harry gaped at her, and she felt a light blush coming onto her warm cheeks.

“Why do you have that?” He asked, narrowing his eyes at her, a scary blend of jealousy and betrayal and hate for his fate concocting in his chest. She rolled her eyes.

“Just go!”

He huffed a bit, grabbing the plastic wrapper and then took a deep breath. He twisted the door handle and she watched him, grimacing. He opened the door, closed his eyes, and threw the condom where Layla and Zayn connected.

“AH, WHAT THE FUCK?”

“NO GLOVE, NO LOVE.”

“We had a condom, asshole!” Layla shrieked.

After a few moments of her trying to hold in laughter and Harry cradling his face in his hands, regret and faint nausea visible on his face, she spoke up.

“So... Scrabble?”

MASTERLIST | Requests are open!

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Retracted Claws | 04

BTS

Kim Taehyung/Reader [F]

Genre: Hybrid/Mafia AU, Violence, Angst, Dark Themes, Fluff - Tae is soft for Y/n

Warnings!: Implications of past abuse (Mental/Physical/Sexual), Implied Sex Service 

Words: 6.8k

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@hyunmintae  @lunaxmadel @jiminslye @taelzia @shimiory @sabri-na130 @ms-bookdragon @fuxk-feelxngs @btsstan4life @lil-meow-meow-goes-rawr @moniebuns @imaforeigner @agoddesswithablade @brother-lets-cry-cry @magsjv @chocolateandchagall @heckin-mood @vannilacake @that-barista@chaoticevilcappuccino @ethereal-ashes @anoushe01 @enthusiastt@minseoltanggi @houseofhecatetrilogy @want-to-say-hello

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It’s almost unnerving at how fast time can tick by after a tragic event.  It’s already been 2 months since you were attacked on the streets and it’s also been 2 months since Taehyung snapped at you.  True to his apology, he’s done everything in his power to control his temper, especially around you.  You understood that he had to be strict and hold a sense of power to keep his men in line and he couldn’t really run his mafia if he was soft on them.  You didn’t mind when he yelled and threw shit at someone who didn’t listen, but if you were with him, he would keep it short- promising punishment to them later. 

The guilt from that time still ate away at his stomach early morning and he’s woken up enough times panicking when the memory of your blood body haunts his dreams.  Taehyung had almost moved into your room by home much he was in there with you, sleeping in your bed at your side and even making sure you don’t slip in your own shower.  

While he’s become even more doting, you’ve started becoming more independent; albeit in baby steps.  You can wander around the manor on your own, you can stay in your room and shower on your own now without fear of some random man charging at you when your back was turned.  For lack of better terms, here in this manor where you had Taehyung and you had Jimin, you felt safe.  These walls of this grand manor were ones you could trust. 

You’ve also started trying to speak up more.  You were almost always limited to speaking to Jimin or to Taehyung.  Humans are vile and scary, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say two words if someone paid you (mostly because payment for you never turned out).  

Perhaps, that's why Taehyung had been a bit more relaxed when it came to you being indoors.  He would always be watching you in the corner of his eye, or he asks Jimin or a trusted member of his men to watch over you, but as opposed to the constant hovering he did before, he had grown less tense about it. 

Now, here you stand in the corner of Taehyung's meeting room.  Jimin sat at the table and Yoongi speaking over the phone.  Taehyung sat at the end of a long table and a stranger sat at the other end.  He was apparently a client of Taehyung's that has been shifted in his loyalty as of late.  He claims to have some dirt on some rival companies and drug lords, but he's not willing to talk easily.  No one was even sure if his claims of information were true, to begin with.  It was all one big assumption. 

So, here Taehyung sits, annoyed and impatient.  His legs were crossed under the table, one hand tapping on the wood and the other curled around his mouth as his eyes were lidded with annoyance.  The dark glimmer in them still sent shivers down your spine as your ears would unconsciously fold backward. 

Even after all this time beside him and being fully aware since day one, just who Taehyung is and what he does, it doesn't lessen the chill you get from him when he's engulfed in his work. 

"As I'm sure you're aware," Taehyung finally spoke.  Jimin looked at his friend in a blank expression- he was good at hiding what needed to be hidden in such dire and heavy atmospheres.  "I don't have all day and frankly, you're already wasting my time.  So, either start talking or get the hell out."

"Taehyung," Jimin warned, trying to reign in his temper before it would spiral out of hand.  Ever the professional when it comes to something business related.  Jimin had too many sides, more than a die would and you always wondered which was legitimate.

"I want my payment before I tell you what I know," he spoke with an almost too proud smile.  Taehyung's eyes narrowed. 

"Tell me one good reason why I should reverse the ways of a trade when it comes to you specifically?  I see nothing special about you compared to any other barber who comes my way."

"I won't tell you a thing otherwise.  Who knows, maybe I have some good intel."

"And perhaps you're a liar who is just trying to pry at what clearly doesn't belong to you by putting on a face of pride."  Taehyung dropped his hand from his mouth, joining it with his other than tapped on the table. Now clasped together they sit still.  "You could very well have something, sure.  However, you would just as easily be completely empty-handed when it comes to anything that could possibly be helpful to me."

It was tense as you stood.  Your ears flicked as you scanned the stranger's body.  His posture was slack like he didn't care how he presented himself in front of the man who is still technically his boss.  He bit back and a cocky smirk that fueled his equally cocky attitude. Sat without a care in the world. 

Then, his eyes flicked to you standing beside the door.  It wasn't really intended that you be here, but Taehyung hadn't minded you sitting in if you wanted to so he didn't chase you out as he had before.  If he were discussing proper mafia etiquette with his men and laying out blueprints of their next heist, then he'd tell you to go preoccupy yourself until he finished. 

When he lashed out at you and you ran off, getting injured, he wanted to keep as much cruelty away from you.  He didn't want what happened to you that night to happen again.  He knew he couldn't always avoid it and he knows that maybe one day it would happen and it wouldn't be his fault, but it still scared him.   If you so much as got a tiny papercut he felt like he could cry for hours. 

He's grown up like this, but the nightmarish stain of your blood painting his memory like candle wax that won't burn off.  Reminding him that this isn't the place you deserve to be, but the place he is selfishly keeping you for his sake. The sake of the small sliver of humanity in him,  you kept it grounded.  You were the anchor to his sinking ship.

"How about we do a half trade," Jimin spoke up as he flipped open a laptop he had laid out on the table in front of him.  Powering it up and gaining the two men's attention, he soon began typing and clicking around on his screen. You watched from the wall and saw him typing up some sort of document, all sorts of paragraphs and bullet points before he swung the laptop around so the screen faced away from him. "If you give up half of your information- that you claim to have- now, we can offer a proper payment and then you would then be obligated to reveal the remaining withheld information." 

Taehyung half negotiations.  He leaned back in his chair as he crossed his arms.  Uncrossing his legs as they sat apart under the table.  He bit at the inside of his cheek to keep from grimacing.  Half negotiations were always a floozy deal.  There are too many ways they could fall through or not work out.  Half the time they ended up with Taehyung having to track down the client and killing them for not sticking to contractual obligations.

In short, the odds were never really in Taehyung's favor- and Taehyung hates wasting time, energy and supplies on something that could've been avoided in the first place.

The man across the table seemed to roll the idea in his head, knowing that is Jimin is proposing it, there's a chance Taehyung won't decline it.  Jimin worked as Taehyung's eyes and ears, along with upholding his rationality.

"I suppose I'd be willing to work under the terms of a half," he said after some thought- a hard feat for such a dunce Taehyung was sure.  Taehyung glared when he caught the man eyeing you up again for the third time since he sat in his stupid chair.  He quickly lifted his leg, the toe of his boot harshing connecting to the bottom of the table.

The wood jostled and anything on top of it shook and rattled.  The man jumped as Jimin just withheld a sigh. You also jumped from the sudden sound as you soon breathed and eased your shoulders back down. He dropped his leg back onto the carpet when the man's eyes were back on his where they needed to stay.

"If you don't want to lose one of your eyes, you'd do best to keep them off Y/n," you looked at Taehyung as he growled at the man.  Jimin looked over his shoulder at you as you slightly shook his head. You saw him look at you before, but you didn't think much of it.  You often got odd looks because of you being a hybrid.  You've grown used to it.  Though, it was true that this man's eyes gave you the worst kind of chills.

The meeting continued and both parties decided on a half trade, much to Taehyung's disinterest.  The man gave up information about a small rebellious patch that seemed to be festering in a small portion of Taehyung's men.  Many were older gentlemen who were beyond disgusted at his decision to take in and hybrid and give her rank as high as him.

Jimin all the while was typing away every word that came out of the man's mouth.  The information was copied into the laptop word for word.  You were contemplating leaving, as the meeting seemed it would be easy enough to finish.  All that was left was to hear what the man wanted in terms of payment before the rest of the deal would be carried out. 

You moved towards Taehyung, walking to his side to tell him that you would be going.  Jimin was talking to the man for a moment, so you took the chance to tell him.  He looked at you walking up to him and almost released the tension in his shoulders.  You look down at him.

"I'm going to go back to my room if that's alright?" You softly spoke.  He almost smiled as he nodded. 

"It's a decision for you, kitten.  If you wish to leave, then you may at any time." You nodded at him as you turned to leave, but the man across the table's eyes stopped you.  They caught yours again as you shivered.  They were dark and reminded you too much of the past.  Taehyung noticed how you stalled and reached to place a hand on your forearm.  You flinched, stuck in your head when he touched you. "I'm sorry," he whispered when you calmed.

You shook your head as the man across the table started chuckling.  Taehyung moved to hardened his eyes into a glare at the man as he sat confining his chuckled behind his hand.

"You know, with all due respect sir, it may not be the brightest idea to parade off an animal," he chided.  Taehyung's grip on your arm almost tightened unconsciously.  He watched Jimin look at the man with distaste as you were somehow brought into the conversation. "She's not exactly fitting into the mold you created for everyone else.  A rarity is sought after in this line of work."

"I don't remember asking your opinion on who I decided to let in or out of my work," he snarled back.  He was annoyed that the man referred to you like some animal, to begin with. Now his accusation seemed to hold a second meaning.  Taehyung wasn't stupid. 

"The contract states that whatever I request in payment is to be delivered since I held up my first half of the bargain," he grotesque smile formed on his greasy face.  Taehyung stood from his chair, knocking it back with the force of his standing.  He tugging your arm as you moved behind him as he pulled his gun tucked in its snug holster on his belt and pointed it at the man.

"I'll shoot you right here and now if you so much as open your fucking mouth again."  You could feel Taehyung's hand shaking around your arm as he breathed through his nose harshly.  He gripped his gu so hard his hand shook as his veins bulged in anger up his neck.  His shoulder square and he was absolutely serious when he said he'd shoot him.  You had no doubt.

Jimin could already understand where this is going as he stood up.  He looked down and across at the man who remained seated, almost unbothered. 

"Although a trade like this is usually open game, we aren't into selling people for their bodies for something like this.  We have other ways of gathering information.  Your request would be denied." Jimin voice was stone, as he was far better at controlling his anger than Taehyung.

Your eyes widened when you realized what the man was going to ask for.  Why he'd been staring, why Taehyung was on edge and why he was suddenly now pointing a gun at him.  he was going to ask to spend the night with you.  You gasped lightly when you feared your old life coming back for you.  Clawing at your ankles and ensnaring you like a bear trap.  You were truly still chained to your past after all. 

You looked at Jimin's calm rage and then looked at the back of Taehyung's head.  He was so angry, and he cared about you so the point he's willing to kill clients and terminated contracts if you were so much to be involved.  You took a breath, steeling yourself for a decision.

You vowed to get stronger, to grow and help Taehyung.  Help him understand and love himself.  To pull him out of his self-hate.  You vowed to understand and work with him, alongside him as a person, not his hybrid.  If you had to be brought in to finalize a deal with someone with possibly valuable information that could be a line between something dangerous aimed at the man you've grown so fond of, so be it.

You pulled your arm from Taehyung's hand as you moved to wrap your arms around his waist from behind him.  You pushed your forehead into his back as you turned your head and rested your cheek between his shoulder blades.  Resting easy, he leaned back into you slightly. 

"Y/n?" He whispered as he moved to look behind him.

"Just, trust me," you told him as you let go of him and walked around to his side and moving to stand slightly in front of him.  Facing the man sitting at the table head on.  "I'm willing to work with you," you told him as Jimin whipped around from the man to look at you with wide eyes.  Taehyung behind you dropped his arm with his gun as he stared at the back of your head. 

Your ears were standing on your head, not back in gear or anxiety.  Your frame was firm, straight as you stared this man down.  The man you were willing to revert to your past to if it would benefit Taehyung even the tiniest bit.   Taehyung's gun slipped from his hand as you and the man kept eye contact. 

"Is that so?  You're willing to conduct yourself to my whim without complaint?" You nodded. 

"I'm more than capable of doing so, rest assured." 

He laughed.  "What a stupidly obedient pet."  He waved before digging into his pocket and throwing a key at you which you swiped out of the air.  Some might say you had some cat-like reflexes.  "So long as you show up, I'll go and tell your little owner whatever he wants to know.  Location is on that key, sweetheart."  You nodded as you tucked the key away in your pants pocket. 

You bowed lowly to the man before you turned and left the room without a word to Jimin or Taehyung.  Jimin watched you go with astonishment as Taehyung couldn't move.  Even moving his eyes felt taxing. 

Too much.  This was too much.  What just happened?  Taehyung shook his head slowly in small swivels before he was marching out of the room, swinging the door open with enough force to rip it clean off the hinges before he was chasing you down. 

Rushing into the halls, catching a glimpse of you before you rounded a corner.  He sprinted down the hall before catching your arm.  “Y/n, wait,” he told you.  It was hard to face him, so you didn’t.  You never moved to acknowledge him at all. Taehyung’s breath was labored. He looked to his left then right.  Just a few doors down was a vacant storage room. Not too much held inside it if memory served.  He let go of your arm and moved to grab your hand instead before pulling you in tow to the room.  Going inside and locking the door behind both of you. 

Flipping on the dim storage light, it shadowed your face to look almost grim.  

“What in the hell are you thinking” His voice held a wave of calm anger. He was determined not to raise his voice or chase you away.  The memory of him doing so in the past still burned into his head.  “Are you crazy? You can’t just butt into deals like that.” 

“You were able to follow through with a business partnership though, right?” Your voice was low.  Quiet and timid as your head hung low.  

“That’s not what’s important.  I prioritize you over my work and you should know that.” Taehyung watched as your curled hand shook like a vibrating machine.  Hold it, he gently uncurled your fingers to reveal the key that man gave you.  Red skin and indentions in your palm from gripping it so tightly.  When Taehyung went to grab it, your fist closed around the metal again.  “Y/n, let me have it.” 

You shook your head.  Taehyung moved you to sit on a spare crate.  Kneeling in front of you and softly holding your hand that kept the key hostage.  

“Y/n, you don’t need to do this.  Just hand me the key and I can take care of everything.”  He took a breath, calming himself when you shook your head again. “Please, “ he pleaded.  “Don’t go through with something that scares you.  Let me handle it.”  

“I want to be of use to you,” you told him.  Taehyung remained silent as he knelt before you, listening.  “I know work is important to you and you’ve done so much for me.”  You swallowed a lump in your throat as your nose was becoming stuffy.  Ears flat against the top of your head.  “So, please,” your voice cracked, “please just let me do one thing in return.” 

Taehyug’s eyes softened as his thumb ran over the skin of your hands.  He sighed. 

“There’s nothing at all I can say- or do- to make you back out?” 

“No, you answered quietly. Taehyung gently tugged on your hand, ushering you onto the floor with him.  He sat himself down as he soon tugged you beside him.  Looping his arm around your shoulder, he leaned his head against yours. “Taehyung?” 

“Promise me that you’ll come directly to me afterward.  Immediately, no matter what.” You nodded as you both sat silently. Taehyung hating the decision of allowing you to do the last thing he was sure you wanted to. His grip on your shoulders tightening. 

XXX

That night you were going through your closet looking for something that would reminisce about your past life.  Your past jobs that happened when the moon was as high as the men who would coop you in room after room with strangers from men to women. You hated trying to piece together something that the man you would be visiting might find pleasing enough.  Your past hasn’t left, and right now at this moment, you doubt it would be going anywhere anytime soon. 

Taehyung stood outside your door.  Arms crossed, and body rigid.  He tapped on his arm with his finger as he stared- rather glared- across the hall at the empty wall.  This whole thing has him beyond angry, so much he debated knocking you out and dealing with the scumbag himself.  However, he knew this was your decision and even if he hated, he couldn’t take that away from you.  

He pushed off the wall the moment he heard your door handle move and soon you were stepping out of your room. Taehyung’s brow twitched.  For the first time since he did it, Taehyung almost regrets buying you new clothes.  Taehyung’s jaw clenched as his hand twitched to grab his gun and march his ass to shoot the man himself. 

You looked at him as you stood in the most revealing outside you could muster.  A tube top that had a zipper running down the center of your breasts down to your belly.  Shoulders, collarbones, and arms exposed.  A pair of garter shorts that clung to your legs and waist at the garters strapped into your thighs.  You forewent shoes, not even putting on socks as you walked barefoot. Hair down as it fell in small teases. 

Taehyung just stared at you as you crossed your arms over your chest.  You never felt subconscious like this before, it was too normal for you. Wearing something like this was everyday attire back then, but standing in front of Taehyung had your stomach churning.  This was what you used to be and this is something someone like him could easily toss away like trash.  Your face darkened as you began to panic. Would he throw you out if you really did this?  Would he push you away again? Would he give you up to a shelter or make Jimin take you someone out of his sight? 

You flinched when he took a step towards you, clamping your eyes shut.  You didn’t mean to, but you soon relaxed and almost burst into tears when he stood in the hallway outside your room holding you.  He held your head in his neck as he rubbed up and down your shoulder, calming you down.  He knew you were nervous and didn’t really want to do this, but you were forcing yourself.  He didn’t understand why, and frankly, he didn’t think you knew either.  It was just something you felt you had to do- and that was that.

“I’ll walk you to your car, okay?” Taehyung whispered to you as you both rocked ever so slightly back and forth.  You nodded against him as he soon was pulling away from you and walking down the hall, his hand holding yours.  When you came to a stop at the car waiting to take you to the location the man had given to Jimin earlier, you looked up and were shocked to see your driver would be Jimin himself. 

He smiled at you gently as he pets your head, scratching behind your ears as you purred the slightest bit.  He chuckled as he opened the backdoor of the car. Taehyung pulled your hand to tell you something, whispering in your ear. 

“Don’t forget your promise,” he told you.  Your face reddened at his breath pushing against your cheek.  You nodded.  You wouldn’t forget it would be repeating in your mind all nights so that you wouldn’t forget.  It would get you through the nightmare you were going to put yourself though.  Taehyung would be your blissful dream after all the hell.   “Please be safe,” he muttered once more before you were sitting in the backseat, Jimin shutting the door after you. 

Jimin went to his friend’s side, patting his shoulder as he saw so much distress on Taehyung’s face. 

“Thank you for going with her, Chim.” 

Jimin shook his head as he looked over his shoulder at you in the back seat.  He could tell you were fiddling with your fingers, picking and pulling at them.  A nervous tick you developed that Taehyung is trying to get you to stop. Your claws weren’t something you needed to be picking at, they can bleed too easily. 

“I’m glad to go, I’m sure she’ll feel better if she knows I’m just right outside.”  

“I wish she wouldn’t go,” Taehyung declared with a soft voice and clenched fists. 

“I know.” Soon enough, Taehyung was standing at his front manor door, watching as the car, Jimin and you drive off.  Leaving the property and not returning nearly as soon as he wished. 

XXX

You sat nervously in the backseat at Jimin drove you to your location, the GPS ticking down the miles left until arrival.  He kept glancing back at you through the rearview mirror, each time seeing the grim atmosphere around you thicken and darken in your eyes.  Your eyes hadn’t moved from their flat position on your head since you got in. 

You would move your attention to the seat in front of you, to your nails again and outside.  Watching the city blitz by as Jimin drove and took in the sights, signs, and people when he was stopped at a light.  You were glad the windows were tinted because if someone happened to see you- a hybrid- in such a car like this with only Jimin driving.  Well, they would surely shoot you the dirtiest of looks and you were certain you’d break down into a fit of sobs if something were to push you any further right now. 

Soon, Jimin was tightly gripping his steering wheel as he begrudgingly put the car into park on the side of the road.  He parked in front of a love hotel, one made for a couple looking to hook up discreetly or for newlyweds to try out their wedding night games.  Or maybe just for a long time pair to spice things up again. Point being, this was no place for you.  Jimin didn’t nearly feel as sick to his stomach as he knew Taehyung did, but you were someone precious to him too.  Like a younger sibling, he hadn’t met before, and if he did have a younger sister he sure as hell wouldn’t want her here. 

Jimin got out of the front seat, yanking his keys out of the ignition with annoyance as he walked around to your door.  Opening it he watched you take your seatbelt off slowly as you hesitantly stepped out.  Your bare feet hitting the cool concrete of the city and stepping on the property of the sex-site. Jimin had half a mind to give you hit boots or even a jacket, but he knew you’d refuse them. 

“Y/n,” he called as you turned to him.  “You can still turn back, you don’t have to go in.” You shook your head as you smiled small.  Jimin’s face fell, knowing what he said didn’t matter because if Taehyung couldn’t get you to change your mind, he certainly wouldn’t do it either. 

“Thank you,” you told him before you walked inside, the plush red carpet meeting your bare toes in a blissful softness.  The only thing you can say for sure you would enjoy in this place.  Yes, the carpet was nice as you make your way to the room the key had inscribed on it and knocked as you stood before it.  Greeted with a sick grin and yanked into a room, locked inside for a night. 

5 hours passed by as Jimin sat in his car outside the hotel waiting.  Taking near back to back calls every hour from Taehyung as well as receiving copious amounts of texts about you.  Jimin knew as much as he did, a whopping plate of nothing. 

Jimin was reclined in his seat, listening to some CD a friend had lent hi not too long ago.  Jimin wasn’t a smoker like Taehyung was (even if Tae was trying to stop) but this wait almost made him start smoking.  The tension was too high and he was too restless. He bounced his leg, tapping, hummed, and even beat on the ceiling of the car a few times to try and release some pent up energy. 

He held his phone above his reclined face, one arm behind his head as he read yet another incoming message from his friend.  He was tapping another ‘I don’t know’ when he saw the doors to the hotel slide open. You came rushing out.  Holding your tube top at your chest.  Jimin jumped up and ran to your side after bursting out of the car. He ran to you before he focused on the car to open the door for you to get inside of it.  Inside to the safety you had been lacking for hours now. 

He held you by the shoulders but retracted his hands almost instantly as you flinched at the contact.  “Y/n!” He called your name as you didn’t once look up to meet his eyes.  He just shook his head, foregoing any other words he may want to say, and just moved to open the car door and usher you gently inside.  You slid into the seat and instantly slumped to lay across it instead.  Jimin shut the door as you lay in the back, getting up front and driving off. Back to the manor- breaking a few traffic laws along the way. 

XXX

When he got the message that Jimin was on his way back with you, Taehyng flew from his bed.  He hadn’t slept, he refused to lay down, he was just pacing back and forth in his room.  Taking breaks from his worries to work but soon back on his worry parade.  He ran his fingers through his hair, held his face in his hands, kicked his trash bin at his desk and almost ripping a framed photo off his wall in frustration.  

He had been or uneasy that he grew too hot to even stay completely dressed.  Old, worn sweats hanging off his hips and that was all he could muster.  He nearly flung his door across the hall when he busted it open to run down the halls, descended the stairs and skidded to a halt at the front door.  He stood outside on the steps of his home waiting for that car to pull in his driveway. 

Half an hour later and he hopped up the stair-step he sat on when he heard the revving of the car as it pulled around the gates and stopped at the bottom of his stairs to see Jimin get out of the front.  Rounding the car to your side as Taehyung sped down the stairs, skipping steps as he went. Jimin helped your sit up as you slowly raised yourself out.  

Tubetop still on, but zipper busted as you held it together at your chest.  Shorts on, but wrinkled and hair a tangled, unkempt mess.  You wouldn’t raise your head and Taehyung couldn’t see you.  You were so dazed that you didn’t even hear, let alone recognized Taehyung’s scent as he came closer.  You only looked up when you saw the slippers he wore outside when he didn't want to bother with shoes.  

Slowly raise your head up, Taehyung saw the red coating around your eyes like a sickness.  The puffy cheeks of yours as the red, button nose that glowed in the dark night around you.  You shivered slightly as you took shaking breaths.  His angry spiked when he saw something around your neck, a thick line that seemed raw.  He pulled his fingers into a fist as his nails dug into his palm enough to cause himself the slightest bit of pain.  That bastard put you in a fucking collar.  Not to mention, his blood boiled at the mark- the bruise of purple just below the collar mark. He put you in a collar and sucked a mark into your skin. 

That man put something, two somethings, on you.  You who belonged to Taehyung- with Taehyung.  Taehyung kicked off his slippers, making your step into them instead. He moved to grab your hand as he started away.  

You followed behind mindlessly as Taehyung took you inside, up the stairs, down the halls you knew so well and into his room. It had been a while since you were truly in here.  Taehyung shut the door behind your back, flicking it shut as he moved to hold you.  

Tucking you into him as he held you so tight you couldn’t breathe.  He hung his head as it rested against the side of yours; his shaking breathing hitting your ears.  He tightened his hand that was on your back as he held you in place, not letting you move away from him an inch. You stood against his warmth, relaxing.  

His scent was calming and his skin warm. You dropped your hand from holding up your tube top as you wrapped your arms around his naked waist back. Your nose pushing into his neck as you finally wept.  He stood holding you- crying and shaking you- as you wailed out your misery.  Tears sprung into Taehyung’s eyes as well. 

When you calmed down, Taehyung held your cheeks as he looked at your red face.  “I am so sorry,” he told you.  You sniffed at your eyes twitched.  He pushed his forehead against yours as he kissed the tip of your nose.  “Let’s get you cleaned up and to bed, okay?” You nodded.  

A bath, set of Taehyung’s clothes covering you and being tucked into his bed later, he sat beside your sleeping body, scratching your ears.  You purred in your sleep as you watched you.  His hair is still damp from his bath with you as it dripped occasionally.  His eyes still stung as he pulled the comforter you had pulled up your chin back.  

Leaning down, he placed a small, gentle kiss on your neck. Covering that mark that seemed to be fading from the collar and glaring at the bite that man gave you.  Putting one more kiss on your neck, he tucks you back in as he left his room.

Taehyung found Jiin in his living room on his laptop, the two made eye contact and seemed to already be on the page thought process of what needs to happen ASAP. 

“I’ve already got camera captures of where he went when he left and where he is.  Wanna see?” Jimin asked him. 

“Just give me a location, I’ll deal with the rest.”  Jimin nodded as he pulled a gun from under the coffee table, tossing it to Taehyung. 

“It’s not yours, but it can shoot and I took the initiative to load it, full chamber my friend.”  Taehyung smiled at the gun, holding it at his hip before his phone went off with a location from Jimin.  Taehyung was driving off with two men in 10 minutes before he was on the road. 

Driving to a small home just outside the city, Taehyung started laughing at the location.  This man had a secluded country home, making his job that much easier.  It was laughable as Taehyung flicked the safety off and cocked it back.  The car that had to two men up front stopped as the man who was responsible for the other half of the deal was outside smoking.  He stood up ready to tell off the car that just parked in his driveway but stopped when he saw Taehyung step out.  

Still only in his sweats, he marched up to the man who dropped the cigarette from his mouth from keeping it agape.  Taehyung raised his gun, pushing the barrel up against the bottom of the man’s chin, shutting his mouth with a clack of his teeth.  

“We don’t want you swallowing a fly, so shut that mouth of yours,” he cooed in fake sincerity.  He moved the gun to tap against his cheek, the cool metal of it striking fear with each skin tap.  The man’s skin raising in gooseflesh.  “Let’s have a discussion of men, yeah?”  Then Taehyung was dragging him inside, to men following him as the front door shut. 

XXX

Taehyung had dragged the man into his bathroom as he threw him onto the tiled floor. Banging his head off the toilet bowl’s edge.  The man squirmed on the floor as Taehyung put his gun on the sink as he knelt and picked the man up by his collar.  “Talk, you piece of whoreshit,” Taehyung growled. The look in his eyes made the man below him shiver.  He was rendered speechless as Taehyung pushed him back on the floor as he stood up towering over the man.  Lifting his barefoot, he began pushing his foot onto the man’s neck cutting off his air.  

The man on the floor squirmed as he pulled trying to get Taehyung off him, the mafia leader only stepping down harder.  He released a moment later, not wanting the piece of trash to die- not yet.  He moved to stomp his heel into the man’s gut.  

Moving away, Taehyung opened the bathroom door, left and came back with what looked like fishing line. The man had moved to sit up against the side of the standing metal shower door. Taehyung began unwinding the line.  He looked at the man, eyes narrowed and cold.  Calling the two of his men inside the bathroom, the two were soon holding the man on his feet, holding his hands above him as Taehyung began winding and winding and winding the fishing line around his wrists and tying them to the metal frame of the shower door. 

His hands turned red as the line cut into his skin to make small beads of blood.  Taehyung smiled at the blood.  “Who knew, even a monster like you has red blood,” he chuckled out. Taehyung told his men to leave, as he remained alone with the man.  Tapping his gun against his thigh as he got closer to him.  He pushed his gun into the man’s side as he got closer still.  “I want every piece of information you have,” he said as he pulled his trigger.  

A single bullet grazing his side as the bullet shot and shattered the glass door behind him.  Glass falling into the shower and onto the floor, above Taehyung’s bare feet.  He couldn’t be bothered as the man hissed and breathed in labored breaths from the bullet graze.  

“Another thing,” he told him as his eyes hardened again.  “I want you to tell me what the fuck you did to Y/n and for each lie you tell me, I’ll break each one of your fingers until you only have toes left.  Then I’ll break those until I get to start to crack your ribs one by one, motherfucker.”  The man froze in his tied up imprisonment.  Taehyung smiled, holding the information that whatever he did do to you wouldn’t just have his fingers broke, no.  Taehyung would be getting the dullest blade from the kitchen and cutting his fingers off completely.  

When he was done of the night, he walked out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him as he muffled the cries and whimpers inside.  “His screaming is so annoying” he muttered as he wiped his bloody hands.  Looking at the bloodstained sweats, he grimaced. “I liked these too,” he sighed.  He turned to one of his men outside the door. “Find something to gag him with a sock, a shirt, underwear I don’t care.  I’ll send reinforcements in the morning.  Don’t let him out of this room,” he chuckled.  “Not that he’s going anywhere.” 

“Yes, sir!” One man told him as he moved to go search for something to gag the man.  Taehyung left the house as he walked the perimeter.  He scoffed, a pathetic area, but it doesn’t matter. It’s his now.  He pulled his phone from his pocket, his red dried fingers calling Jimin.  

“Send me 3 cars, 6 men each.  This area is under my jurisdiction now.” 

“He’s not dead, is he?”  Jimin questioned hoping he didn’t jump the gun and just kill the fucker.  

“No, he’s not.  Calm down.  I just roughed him up a bit, had a little chat,” Taehyung laughed through the line.  Jimin didn’t question further.  “I’ll need a change of clothes too. I don’t want Y/n seeing me like this right now.” 

The line cut after that.  Taehyung sat on the hood of his car as he sighed, looking at the night sky that was teasing the light of dawn. Digging inside his car and popping open the glove compartment, he pulled a pack of cigarettes.  “Y/n is going to be mad if she finds out I smoked,” he said to himself.  “Guess, I’ll just take the bullet,” he chuckled at his own chuckled as he lit it and blew the addicting smoke into the air.  “It’s quiet this morning.” 

The humming of cars and clacking of guns not too far off in the distance.  

-Pt. 5?-

a/n: this is the shortest and possibly worst chapters of this series so far (I’m not v happy with it kinda), but I fiugred since I had it written here you go! Still on hiatus lmao