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soulwillower · 3 years ago

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housesitting • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: no

had this in my drafts and figured i’d finish it and post it, sorry for being away, but idk if i’ll keep writing! hope you enjoy, i’ll prob still come back and update/post fics on this account on occasion. love u guys lots and i hope you’re all doing okay <3333

warnings: drinking, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), light deepthroating/face fucking, praise kink, degradation, use of the words slut, whore, etc, suuuper unedited

(losers + reader are 21+.)

4.7k words

♡

the moment you stepped back into your flat, dropping your bag heavily on the ground with a sigh, you finally felt like you could breathe.

today and yesterday had been a nightmare - you and your roommate bill had gone home, planning to stay for a week with family and friends back home.

you'd spent the first night out with old friends at the bar enjoying yourselves and you'd even gone home with a handsome boy you'd had a crush on in high school. but just as he was about to go down on you, after you'd gone down on him despite how terrible his b.o. was, he said he wouldn’t because it was 'gross.'

you hate to admit but you were slightly tipsy and horny, so you still stayed for ten minutes of awful, boring missionary before he fell asleep. then when you'd left in the uber, a voice message from your boss threatened to fire you if you didn't come in and finish a project - so you had to scramble for a flight home, leaving bill back with your friends in maine for a few days, and now you're just ready for a shower, a nicely packed bowl, and a large dinner.

because good god, that was an awful trip.

"hello?" you call, rubbing your eyes as you walk towards your kitchen, wondering if your roommate's best friend was still here - he was supposed to stay and take care of the apartment while you were away.

but instead, your eyes landed on a complete mess in the kitchen; solo cups everywhere, trash, empty chip bags, furniture moved and counters sticky from spilt beer.

"what the fuck?" you project, eyes landing on the figure who walks into the kitchen, towel hanging low on his hips as water drips from wet, shaggy curls of hair. you meet the bright eyes of richie tozier, your roommate’s best friend.

he looks like a deer in headlights, his glasses slightly fogged as he blinks his eyes owlishly and you swear his eye lashes tangle together as he blinks. "oh, hey y/n, why are you here?"

and honestly, richie has always made your fingers tingle and your abdomen clench when he so much as looks at you, despite bill’s groaning and glaring when you refer to him as ‘hot friend number one.’ (he had a lot of hot friends).

but you’re wound up, stressed, frustrated, and exhausted so all you can do is look from the boy to the mess and then back, stunned, "this is my apartment."

he chuckles, wiping a drip of water off of his chest. you have to fight to look away, feeling burning from irritation and also something else as your chest heaves. you're just so tired, and this boy who you don't know very well has trashed your place and maybe even had a party and you just want to smoke and go to bed and-

"say, what are you doing back so soon, toots? thought i had the place to myself for the next five days." he says too casually, grinning like he's catching up with an old friend. his hand runs through his wet hair, droplets rolling down his bare skin and causing you to fight the urge to keep your eyes on his face.

you shake your head. "richie, why does my kitchen look like a scene from dexter?" you say, trying to keep yourself calm.

he tilts his head in an irksome, handsome way that makes you want to scream, "pretty sure dexter was....murdering murderers, not slamming smirnoff at three am." "clean it up! what gives you the nerve to have a party in someone else's fucking apartment? while they're gone?!" you yell, throwing your hands in the air. richie shrugs uncomfortably and you're briefly in shock at how much faith richie is putting in the small tuck he's made with the towel, barely keeping up on in his waist. he laughs somewhat nervously, "sheesh, doll, it would've been cleaned by sunday, you just surprised me and almost gave me a heart attack while i was in the shower. bill told me we could throw at your place as long as we were responsible." he sounds pretty genuine, but you're just so tightly wound and frustrated.

"well this," you gesture to your place, "is not responsible." you glare, "i'm going to shower. i've had a long fucking day, and when i get out the place better be fucking spotless and you better be gone. i'm not asking." you snap.

he grins as you push past him, turning to watch you storm towards the bathroom with an apologetic grimace on his face.

you took as long as you could in the shower, savoring every warm drop until you stepped out of your bathroom, expecting to see an empty apartment.

"what are you staring at?" the boy with the curls mutters as he fixes the wine glass he'd placed on the counter. you're pretty speechless as you look around, wondering how richie had managed to get your place more clean and inviting than how you'd left it. dishes are all clean, put away, the counters spotless; the oven is set with a timer for two hours, and the smell of lasagna invites your nose with a rumble of your stomach. two glasses of wine are poured, sitting at the counter as richie chews on his lip anxiously, hair glinting in the dark mood lighting from the lamp near the window.

"i felt bad. you seem like you had a long day and i didn't mean to make it worse." he admits.

you step forward, suddenly feeling hot as you watch him, his jaw clenched slightly and sharper than you remember it. he's actually really fucking beautiful, you realize.

"you didn't have to do all this." you say, biting your lip as you take the wine glass from his hand.

"i know." he says with a cocky smirk. your face feels hot as you watch him slide out the stools by your breakfast bar, sitting down and sipping on his own wine.

with a smile, you sit next to him. he was always the friend of bills that made you the most flustered - he's a tall, loud, garish bartender who spends most his time doing stand up at the clubs on the weekends even though he studied applied mathematics in school. he's the kind of boy that everybody has a crush on, because he's got that dorky yet beautiful sculpt; dark, curly locks, pale skin with a splattering of bright freckles. his eyes pierce yours whenever you're in the same room and his grin makes your stomach flip on it's head.

"so, why'd you come back early?" richie asks as he takes a sip, eyes staring at you brightly from behind the rim of the glass. you huff a small bitter laugh, "my boss told me i had to come back because we're understaffed. told me the extra hours are 'building charater' or something. but i was having a shitty trip anyways, so i may as well just volunteer my time."

he laughs, muttering, "good girl. doin' the lords work." you almost laugh but his words have heat sent straight between your legs and you can't tind words, suddenly in a state of shock. oh, god, this wine is getting to you.

richie's always been so hot, you're not surprised that one casual phrase had you so frantic like this. you blink, richie muttering, "y/n?" gently.

you shake your head, snapping to look at him, "y-yeah? sorry, i just- what did you say?" you're embarrassed. you're embarrassed because richie didn't even mean it like that and you didn't expect to like being called that by him and you're embarrassed because he knows now, god look at his smirk, you're done for.

"i asked why your trip was shit." he says simply, smirk on his face causing your face to heat up even more. you sigh, eyeing him, "i tried to enjoy myself and then i have the worst hookup experience of my life. then i came back to a messy apartment." you admit, shaking your head as richie pours you both another glass of wine, "the worst? that's a shame. what'd he do, throw up on you?"

you laugh, "no, nothing like that. he was a minute man, and he refused to..." you shake your head, wondering why you're admitting this to a guy you barely know. you've never hung out one-on-one before with him. "-he made me do all the work. and then he fell asleep. the worst part is, i've liked him since high school." you admit, dropping your face into your hands as richie lets out a chuckle.

richie's shaking his head, "see, those types are the ones who just shouldn't be allowed in the gene pool. lazy. missin' out on all the fun, especially with a gal like you." he says with a wink. you laugh, face feeling hot. "i'm no fun." you say bashfully.

richie raises his brows with a grin, his smile making you melt, heat pooling in between your legs from the way he runs his fingers across the rim of his glass. "i highly doubt that, doll."

his eyes dip down in a not-so-subtle way as he takes in your body, biting his lip and making you clear your throat with a heated face. "sorry you had to put up with a guy who couldn't fuck you the right way. and that your boss also fucked you. and that i ruined your night."

you shake your head, "i just had so much pent up stress from the last few days." he's eyeing you, and you wonder if he wants to fuck you as bad as you want to be fucked right now. would bill kill you? yeah, he would, but richie is so damn fine and you were left so high and dry last night that you’re just about ready to jump onto his lap.

as if reading your mind, richie hums, "bill's still in maine, yeah?" he asks casually, eyes fluttering to the timer on the oven that ready an hour.

you nod, "yeah, he's actually hanging out with the guy i hooked up with tonight." you say with a light huff. richie groans a laugh, "no fuckin' way. i promise, not all of bill's friends are bad at sex." richie says with a grin, and you laugh. "you sure about that?"

he hums, eyeing you but not responding.

“guess i’ll just have to find out.” you say boldly, butterflies fluttering in your chest when richie shoots you a deep look, slicking his lips through a smile. he hums, "so i don't get it, what was so bad about it?"

you sigh, "he wouldn't go down on me. said he was 'too tired' and ‘too much work’ then he wanted to lay down so i rode him for, like, five minutes and then he fell asleep."

richie's laughing, and you swat his arm as your face burns, "it's not funny! it's humiliating, richie."

he snorts, standing up to place your empty glasses in the sink, recycling the empty bottle. "sorry, doll. that's just shit. he should've at least had the decency to make you cum."

you almost choke on your spit at his bluntness, face blossoming and thighs tingling. "y-yeah."

"anyways, i can get going, if you'd like. guess i’m done being the house sitter. the lasagna will be done in an hour or so." he says with a nod, eyes staring at yours fiercely. you hum, standing up as richie walks closer. "or you could stay." you say, looking up at him from where he stands in front of you.

"you lonely or somethin', doll?" he rumbles lowly, lifting a brow. biting your lip, you swallow, "something like that." you say, lifting a challenging brow.

“so if it was stan here, or mike...” he starts, walking towards you until he’s close enough that you’re afraid he can hear your heart thump, “you’d want them to stay?”

you swallow dryly, “if bill lived with someone else, would you want to stay?” his smirk makes you clench your thighs. his long fingers raise and curl around your jaw, tilting your head back before tucking hair behind your ear. you swallow roughly, his hands are so big. his rings that he wears are thick and ice cold and feel so good against your warm face.

your heart pounds as he smirks, eyes challenging you. the waiting is killing you.

"you've got a pretty mouth." he whispers, sending shocks all around your body. "y-you've got a pretty everything." you stutter out, feeling extremely flustered and suddenly shy. "thanks, honey." he says with a laugh, making you feel even more bashful.

"y'know..." he drawls, hand settled on your neck, caressing your jaw, "i've wanted you since i first saw you."

you can't help the whimper as it falls from your lips. it's a small, shy noise of need and it makes richie beam a beautiful, sexy grin that has your knees weak. "please..." you whimper, eyes staring at his, the suspense making you anxious with need.

"please what?" he asks quietly, clearly loving the tense air. you almost roll your eyes, "kiss me." you say, rushed.

he pulls away slightly, giving you a stern look. “please.” he says, smirk creeping onto his face. you burn in slight humiliation because he knows what he’s doing.

“please kiss me, richie.” you finally say, swallowing.

"good girl." he says with a smirk and you feel like you're burning up under his gaze. but then he’s leaning in and his lips are on yours and wow, richie is a good kisser. he’s pulling you towards him tightly, hungrily; his teeth bite gently at your lower lip as his tongue swipes your own, pulling you into him. he was needy in the way he kissed you, a dominance in him that you're not surprised to find. you craved it, you craved him; and then he's pushing you back, up onto the stool as he moves between your legs.

his mouth is then marking your neck, claiming you, and you love it, the feeling of his teeth against your warm skin, the sweetness of his smile against you.

his hands brush up your thighs and past the hem of your shorts, legs spread so he’s pressed flush against you, his bulge so close to where you want him. "richie," you let out a mangled whimper, hair knotting in his soft curls. he laughs, lips finding your ear, "always wondered how you'd sound when i had you like this," he says quietly, "can't wait to hear what pretty noises you make when i'm inside you."

his fingers find the damp seat of your panties, dancing across it and making your legs shake with anticipation and neediness. you’re already a soaked, mewling mess as you grasp for him, hungry and needy and you want him closer, closer.

he pulls you off the stool, then, and you both stare at each other for a moment. he almost dies at the state of you; already fucked-out, hair mussed up and still wet, your eyes lidded and your lips kiss-swollen.

you can’t believe your eyes, richie’s curly hair fluffy from being freshly washed, the taste of wine on his lips, the freckles, the collarbone peeking from his collar, the smirk that could melt black ice. he looks like he could tear you apart. you hope he will.

“you’re hot.” you blurt.

he rushes at you again, melding your lips together with a searing hot kiss as he shoves you backwards towards the bedrooms.

"bill told me to stay away from you," richie says as he walks you down the hall, your feet nearly stumbling and shaky as you walk backwards, lips seeking his every moment, "he said i'd ruin you." he adds.

you lift a brow, too flustered to say anything as you stare up at richie, inhaling sharply as his hand trails down to cup your ass lightly, still walking backwards. "he knows how pretty i think you are. how hot, how... perfect." he whispers into the skin of your neck, raising goosebumps. "but i want to fuck you so well you forget your name. i don't care about what bill wants."

you look at him, desperate and needy. "i don't give a fuck what bill says. i want you, please." you say, pawing richie and kissing him needily. richie’s leaving dark love bites on the column of your neck and you know it's wrong, and you shouldn't, but you let him kick open the door into bill's room, guiding you to bill’s bed instead of yours. “please, wan’ you so bad,” you pant, the needy throbbing getting unbearable, desperate for some release.

“how bad, pretty girl?” he asks, smoothing down your hair. biting your lip, you sit on the bed, eyes level with the zipper of his pants. the sight of you staring up at him from below his hard, clothed cock makes his pants feel even tighter and he hums, "you sure?"

you nod enthusiastically, "wanna make you feel good, please." he lets out a soft noise as your hands go to pull down his fly, “filthy girl." he says lowly, making heat drip from your core. you shift, trying to relieve some pressure. you feel hot when you realize you want him to degrade you, that you love it. “god, say that again.” you moan, mouthing around his bulge. his hands come to caress your face, watching you,

"you like being my little whore, huh? so good just for me. bet you’ve thought of my cock in your mouth before, haven’t you?"

you nod, biting your lip. he grins and you’re moving to pull him out of his pants, trying to conceal your shocked face as you take in his size. your cheeks heat up, hand grazing his length and meeting his own hand as he pumps himself a few times, lining his tip up to your lips.

“open.” he says simply and you comply willingly, laying your tongue out. he’s teasing his cock on your tongue and you’re whining, desperate to feel him in your mouth, to make him feel good.

“just wait until i say so, baby.” he says, slapping your tongue lightly with his cock and making you shift on your legs, dripping wet.

he groans, one hand coming to hold your head softly, making you tingle. you watch as he stares at you, lips parted and eyes blown wide. his cock is glistening with precum as it lays on your tongue. “suck my cock pretty girl.” he mutters, caressing your cheek. so you close your lips, slowly sucking on his tip before taking a bit more, moving your head slowly.

you lick a stripe up the base of his cock and up to his tip, swirling your tongue. he groans in relief and pleasure as you take as much of him into your mouth as possible slowly, bobbing your head and taking as much in as you can. he’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, and the need to feel him inside you and to make him fall apart has you taking him as deep as you can.

you take him deeper, your eyes clouding with tears as you try not to gag and he hums, hands pulling your hair from your eyes - you can tell he’s straining not to buck his hips as you bob up and down on him.

“god, you feel so good, y/n.” he groans. you pull back, sucking on his tip as you swirl your tongue, catching your breath. his hands fall to your head and he gently, slowly thrusts his hips slightly. you gag, mouth wet as he pulls out of your mouth and wipes the trails of spit from your lips. “do it again, please.” you gasp, and he grins. “such a slut.”

he guides your face back to him, “tap me three times if it’s too much.” you take him in again, holding as long as you can and loving the way he’s thrusting into your mouth. he groans, both hands on your head, his chest rising and falling shakily.

"god, that’s so perfect. my good little toy.” he rumbles and your chest flutters. you feel him twitch and you sense he may be close, so you start to bob your head again.

he stops you, "no, pretty girl. i'm going to cum inside of you, okay?" you swallow, mouth dry, "okay." please.

he sinks to his knees, gently pushing you so you're laying down on the bed again, pulling your legs so they hang off the side of the mattress. he's pulling your shorts off, your underwear following as he spreads your legs wider, kissing your thighs. “look at that pretty pussy. soaked, all for me.”

you're breathing shakily as one finger rises to gently rub your slit, making you moan softly. his touch is feathery-light, teasing you and making you whine, moving your hips. "shhh." he says softly, bringing his tongue to lick up your slit. you moan out, relieved to have some sort of satisfaction. richie's hand moves up to push up your top, thumbing your nipples as he starts to suck your clit. he pins your hips down, "be a good slut and stay still for me." he says, burying his face as your toes start to curl in pleasure, the burning sensation of pleasure increasing.

he rubs circles into your hips with one hand as he slides two fingers into your heat, making you whimper, his fingers start to pick up pace as he continues to circle your clit with his tongue. his long fingers curl up inside of you, still pushing into you fast and rough, hitting your g-spot. you moan, “richie, harder, please.”

he hums, lifting his head as you gasp for breath, "since you asked so nicely, doin' everything i say." his fingers are moving again, faster than before. his tongue runs over your clit, practically moaning into your heat, fingers moving faster. you moan unabashedly, feeling yourself clench and knowing you're about to cum. your legs wrap around his shoulders as your hips move slightly,

“cum on my tongue like a good little slut, okay baby?” he says gently. you moan, eyes shutting as you see stars. you're hitting your high and then richie's watching you, praising you as you fall apart, letting out soft whimpers.

then you're sitting up as he rises from his knees, licking his lips. pulling him into a searing kiss, he crawls on top of you, rutting into you a few times before pulling back.

he's pulling himself out of his pants and you swallow around your words, resisting the shocked face that threatens to creep on to you when you see how big he is. you moan as you watch him pump himself, pulling off his shirt as you pull off your own.

he grins as he looks at you, "so good for me, my little slut. you want me to fuck you now?" he asks and you eagerly pull yourself up to your elbows, "yes, please, rich, fuck me."

he hums, pushing his cock against your slit, the tip rubbing your sensitive clit and making you moan sharply. he continues to tease you, one hand on his cock and the other holding your waist. "use me, please." you whisper in his ear, hand holding him to you from the back of his neck.

he lets out a sharp breath, hand snaking to your neck and pushing you back onto the mattress. "you want me to use you?" he asks, thrusting against you slowly, teasing your slit. "like my little plaything?"

"yes, god, richie, please-" but then he's sliding into you all at once, his large cock stretching you as he moves his hips, sheathing into you. you feel so full that all you can do is gasp, richie kissing your forehead as his hand rests on your throat. "gonna fuck you on bill's bed, okay? and you're gonna be good for me, right? my good little cockslut."

you nod yes, "so good for you." you say, and he smiles. he starts to pull out, easing back in and starting a shallow rhythm, getting you used to his size. you're euphoric as he starts to languidly pump into you, one hand on your neck and the other on your chest, palming your tit.

he starts thrusting into you, picking up speed - rough and fast. his hips buck up against you, pulling back fully before filling you up. his thumb gently grazes your sensitive clit and you grip his bare back, raking your nails down in pleasure. "do you walk around thinking of how it'd feel to get fucked by me, baby?" he whispers in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. you moan, "yes, r-rich, i've wanted you for s-so long," you trail off into a moan. "feels so good." you mutter, panting, words babbling from your mouth incoherently.

you barely have a warning before you cum a second time, clenching so hard that richie's hips sstutter, his moan ringing with your own. he looks down at you, thumb trailing into your open mouth, you eagerly sucking on it like a lollipop. "god, you're so tight, doll. such a good little whore for me. i bet you'd let me do anything to you, anywhere."

your legs are shaking as he keeps thrusting you through your orgasm, feeling sensitive and euphoric. he smirks, "yeah? bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, just my little fuck toy. so perfect for me."

you nod, kissing him needily, tears from oversensitivity pricking your eyes. "want you filling me up richie, feels so good."

"anywhere?" he asks, eyebrows knit in pleasure as he fucks into you. he's so possesive, it makes your face warm. you nod, "anywhere."

he's smirking, and you know he's thinking about how shocked bill would be if he found out. it makes it that much hotter as you turn and see the picture of bill and richie on the wall near the door.

then richie pulls out of you and you're being flipped onto your knees, richie's large hand pushing your face towards the soft sheets. you can't help the moans that escape you as he spits onto your dripping cunt, fingers playing with your used pussy as you moan, sensitive and still desperate. "pretty baby, all fucked out. can you take one more?" he asks, hands roaming your ass. you nod, yelping gently when a hand smacks down on your ass.

"can you take one more?" he asks. "yes!" you moan into the mattress with need. he mutters, "good girl." as he pushes into you, the new angle making you moan loudly. with every thrust, he pushes you down on the mattress, making you grip against the edge of it with pleasure. one of his hands drops down to rub your clit, and you buck needily against his touch. after only a few minutes, the combination of the snap of his hips, the few slaps on your ass, and his hands on your clit push you over the edge, clenching around his cock as you whimper. your legs barely stay up after you cum, and his arm wraps around you to hold you as he pounds into you, chasing his own high.

"yes, my pretty girl, so good." he praises again, hips speeding up. you think he's close because his breathing is faster, hands gripping your hips hard as he kisses down your spine, "take it." he whispers onto your back as he finally cums, pulling out and finishing on your ass and lower back, moaning lightly.

you can't believe what just happened as richie disappears, returning at the speed of light with a damp washcloth to clean you off. you blush at how sweet the gesture is before he falls next to you on the bed, sighing. "i'll be honest, i didn't expect that."

you laugh, "neither did i. i thought i was coming home to an empty apartment and some microwave ramen."

he's staring at you, a smirk on his face, “i'd apologize again but holy fuck, you look so pretty when you cum.” you don't know what to say, feeling hot as you roll your eyes with a grin. he laughs and kisses you, “you’re cute, you know.”

"says you." you mutter against his lips. you thank god bill won't be back soon as you watch his best friend rise, naked, from beside you and grab a spare hoodie and gym shorts from bill's closet, throwing them on before handing you his own shirt to wear.

"so, lasagna?" he asks, glasses askew slightly. you laugh as you stand on shaky legs, "it's the least you could do." you joke.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #losers club smut #losers x reader

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yandere-wishes · 4 years ago

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Yandere Charcter Encyclopedia

A list of some requested charcters and the types of yandere’s they would be. I might open requests for a part two later idk yet.

💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔💔

Twisted Wonderland

Vil Schoenheit is controlling and possessive.

You need to be the BEST!

It's more so this lovesick notion that Vil seems to be "in love with" rather than you as a person. No one knows exactly why Vil chose you as his dearly significant other and Vil has never given any inkling as to why he favors you above everybody else. It's a paradox, an unsolvable mystery. But the truth is Vil fell in love with you, not for your looks, nor your personality, heck you didn't even really do some outstanding gesture that pulled at his heartstrings, no, instead you did nothing. Confusing, I know but let me explain, you were a nobody. No breathtaking looks, no fantastic personality, no influential family. There was NOTHING special about you! This means you had the potential to be something special, something extraordinary and the only person in the universe who could raise you to such levels was nonother than the head of Pomfiore, Vil Schoenheit!

Every day he spends hours making sure you look perfect, a face painted in just the right ways to make others believe you had the features of an angel sent from above. Posture so straight, shoulders pulled back to make others think you were the long lost heiress to some fallen family. Never once did you speak out of place or with a tone harboring too many emotions, every word that left your mouth was so well thought out and prepared that others could only suspect you were some sort of genius.

You were nothing, that's what made Vil notice you in the first place, that's what made him mold you into the perfect someone. Whatever you are now is only thanks to your darling, caring lover...never forget that.

Rook Hunt is delusional.

Rook's brain is an incredibly messed up place and it only gets worst the longer he's around you. You are a little rabbit, nimble and sweet and he is the hunter that wants to stick a bow right through your beating heart, a lovely pair you two make, wouldn't you agree? But the more he stalks you, following you around like a second shadow. The more he realizes that he doesn't want you simply for the thrill of a small chase...oh no, he wants to keep you. Put you in a golden cage and throw away the key. You're not some rare catch like le roi des lions or a breathtaking sight like le roi des poisons. No instead you're simple, you aren't a game of nither wit nor strength, you are simply a game of love. Because you love him already don't you? You know he's been following you and doesn't do anything about it because you want him to catch you, right? You want the greatest hunter to hit you with his cupid's arrow so you can fall into his awaiting arms, right where you belong!

Azul is manipulative (were you guys seriously expecting something else?)

Azul is all calculations and deals, all wit and talk. He's got guts to go up against just about anyone he meets and he’s smart enough to turn them into a fish out of water. So maybe it was his confidence that let’s you slip away with lax deals, bending the rules for a helpless little angelfish such as yourself. He doesn't notice that he has feelings for you, not until you stroll into the VIP room of the Mostro Lounge looking for your "dearest friend Azul", all to simply ask him for a contract to make the lousy excuse of an Ignyhide dorm leader fall in love with you. It's then and there that Azul decides it's time to toughen up the rules, tighten the noose around your pretty little neck. You don't even notice until you're rejected by Idia and some strang red string is dragging you into Azul's waiting embrace.

Kalim is delusional and obsessive.

To Kalim, this is just another heart-filled game. You belong to him and he belongs to you, it's simple! The two of you are so in love...it's just you're a little shy when it comes to admitting it! That's okay, Kalim knows a few drinks from the land of hot sands that will loosen your tongue and if that fails there's always Jamil's hypnosis magic that can make you confess! Look, no matter how you go about it, Kalim is just all so convinced that you love him that it doesn't matter what you really think!

Ruggie is manipulative (Lord have mercy on you people the day I finally muster up the courage to write Savancalw yandere headcanons)

Oh sure, male hyenas are passive when it comes to females everyone knows that! But whilst Ruggie does follow -albeit loosely- the reserved yet desperate routines of hyena courtship, he leans more towards suffocating his chosen mate with his presence rather than showing a desperate side of himself. He's always circling his chosen darling, stalking them down the halls, trailing after them all over campus, he never leaves them alone. Any confrontations from his darling will lead to an immediate sob story. Something about how he could smell food in your bag and didn't have any money to buy his own meal or maybe about how he never met a girl as cute as you in slums so he had no idea how to approach you properly. Of course, this is all a hoax, he just needs you to drop your guard, to look him in the eyes with your sad, heart-throbbing orbs, then it's game over, you're all his. "Hey, what's with the dull face? come on, laugh with me skskksks~".

Jack is a protective.

It's only natural really, wolves are overprotective when it comes to their pack members and sure maybe you aren't really a part of his pack per se. But that doesn't mean he's just going to leave you to fend for yourself. You're all so small and frail, you could never hold your own against anyone! Let alone all the mages in NRC. But Jack can, he can protect you and defend himself, it's not a problem. He's very likely torn on whether or not to actually kidnap his darling. On one hand, he doesn't want you to hate him for stealing you away from your friends, he wouldn't want to play the role of the big bad wolf in your story. But on the other hand, poor Jack just isn't lucid enough to fully understand that whisking you away is wrong. In the end, you probably just wind up in his room locked away, or better yet, protected from all the horrors of the outside world.

Deuce is an obsessive

He just wants to be around you all the time. It's mostly some deep routed paranoia that at any fleeting moment you'll somehow abandon him finding refuge with either Cater or Ace. Maybe you find their lazy stupid mannerisms amusing, is that it? If you want lazy, he can be lazy too! Or maybe you want to be with Riddle? Do you like guys who are mean spirited and quick to anger? He can yell! He can yell so much better than Riddle can! Deuce will do anything, anything at all to get you to stay with him. Even if some of his tactics are a little more painful and involve some broken bones.

Hypnosis Mic

Jakurai is possessive and protective

He's overbearing to put it simply, constantly hovering around you, ghosting his fingers over your flesh, or leaving lingering kisses on any patch of exposed skin. First and foremost Jakurai is a doctor, so it's his nature to be nurturing, sure you can accept that much. But what he does to you isn't nurturing in any way shape or form! Juakurai isn't above using sedatives and other forms of medications to keep you compliant, that's not what a good doctor should do, you're both lucid enough to know that. But to Ill-Doc you leave him no other choice, you're constantly disobeying him, trying to find some underhanded way to leave him. So what else can the poor man do! He needs to keep his only escape from the tedious loneliness he's been cursed with, safe!

kamigami no asobi

Balder is possessive and obsessive

He can't help it, there's just something so radiant and sparkling inside of you, something that he can't let get tainted by the darkness that rests within others. You're always walking on thin ice around him, chewing every single word before conversing, calculating every single step before daring to make the slightest move. One wrong look or miscalculated word could get him to spiral into a fit madness, and this time there won't be anyone to save you. But that's only if you do the wrong thing! Just keep playing the role of the loving, adoring girlfriend and there won't be any further...complications. If you simply show him how much you love him, Balder can become all so sickly sweet. A perfect doting boyfriend, constantly sharing his precious meat with you and dressing you up in prettiest lavish gowns from Asgard.

Obey me

Asmodeus is sneaky

The avatar of lust is used to swift meaningless relationships, too caught up in the passion and pleasure to really care about the other person. But with his darling things are different. Oh sure, the lust and sexual tension is still there, always hovering around the air like a thick unbreakable fog. Accept this time there's something else, a sort of jealous aroma blowing through the dense mist. It's intoxicating, making Asmoudaus crave only his little darling, he only wants to look at them, touch them, kiss only them! It's almost like he's addicted to every itty bitty detail about his newfound lover. Will Asmodeus get bored of the relationship over time? Absolutely! But will he ever actually leave his darling to their own devices? Hell no! Asmodeus may have the right to cheat on his darling but they can NEVER so much as think about another man other than him! HE.OWNS.THEM! Their body, mind, soul, it all belongs to him!

Black Butler

Snake is Jealous (I haven't written for black butler since, like, sixth grade)

Snake does love you, this is an evident fact, he never once leaves your side. It's suffocating sure, but it's only because the scaled boy is so paranoid that you might run away with someone else, someone normal. His snakes (mostly Emily) are always chaining the two of you together, constantly curling around your skin so you won't get any ideas to escape. Lord forbid you so much as look at another man, that'll make the white-haired snake charmer go into a fit of pure utter rage. normally Snake won't punish you, but when his jealousy gets too much to keep inside he'll let it out by screaming at you. Asking you if you find him repulsive if you wish to leave him for someone who looks normal. This will than lead to him crushing you in his arms, begging you not to leave him! Overall Snake is one of the tamer yandere of the Phantomhive residence, a real blessing in disguise.

mystic messenger

Saeyoung is obsessive

It's really all just a small accident, this was never really meant to happen, he wasn't meant to fall in love with you. Saeyoung probably just came across your profile whilst on the web, scrolling through some database or another. like I said, IT.WAS.AN.ACCIDENT...and yet all so many times accidents can lead to something...more. Saeyoung doesn't know what particular thing it was about you that caught his attention, maybe it was your cute face or some little odd, out of place detail in your bio. Either way, it has the red-haired hacker surfing through every site just to learn more about you. Picking the internet apart just to find out some small fragments of your personal life. It's become a sort of hobby -addiction- of his, stalking your every move through trackers and reverse cameras. One day he might even gather the courage to speak to you in person, but for now, he's content watching your pretty face from behind a screen.

Code Realize

Impey is Obessasive and clingy

It's your smile, right from the get-go, Impey was enthralled by your cheerful smile. It makes his heart skip a beat, his palms grow sweaty, and his breath hitches in his throat. He just adores that pearly white grin. He's constantly pestering you, poking your cheek, and asking you to smile for him just once more. "Just a small smile, please~". His clinginess is mostly due to the fear of losing you or more so having you stolen from him. That's why he never let's go of your hand and is constantly locking you in his room. "I'm the only one that deserves to see that smile" it's such a childish phrase, primarily when it's accompanied by his renowned pout. Of course, things start to go downhill when you outright refuse to smile. Choosing instead to cry and scream, begging someone to save you from this mad man. Impey is borderline delusional if he thinks you'll ever smile for him again, after the stunt he's pulled.

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luvspence · 4 years ago

Text

darling, you’re the one i want

spencer reid x reader

{im not quite sure this is how a song fic works but this is basically stolen from paper rings by taylor swift, i’m using the lyrics as like prompt one liner things?????? idk bare with me}

- 1,3,4 are mainly fluff but 2 is a lot of fighting and bickering

——-

i want to drive away with you

“do you ever feel”

you took a pause in the middle of your thought, spencer spun around in his chair to face you

“indeed, i do feel”

“shut up i’m thinking” you said as you laughed and slapped him on the arm

“do you ever feel like, trapped? like boxed in almost”

he chewed on the end of his pen

“i guess? elaborate”

“well, i love my life. i have no regrets. but sometimes i feel like just running into the streets and screaming and keep running and never stopping? just fleeing in a sense”

“yeah, i get that. sort of an intrusive liberating type thought”

“exactly” you said tapping your finger to yourself head, a few seconds of silence passed before you spoke again

“i want to drive away with you”

spencer looked at you in confusion

“you’re all i need, seriously. i love everything in our lives right now i do, but i could go without all of it, besides you”

he rolled his chair up next to your and caught your hand in his

“i’d get up right now, keys in the ignition, and i’d drive into nowhere with you y/n. you’re it for me”

——

i want your complications too

you chased spencer up the stair way

“spencer!”

he turned around

“listen to me would you? every time i open my mouth it seems that you turn off your ears”

“i’m all ears y/l/n” he said, giving you more attitude than necessary, but you were having a hard time getting through to him

“that was unbelievably stupid! you could’ve gotten yourself killed! spencer this isn’t the first time, let alone the second, let alone the 7th time you’ve put yourself in harms way! this is so dumb spencer you understand this shit but you still are reckless! and don’t give me that crap about calculated risks”

you were fuming at him

“so what i’m alive, so is our victim what more do you want?”

“why are you turning this on me? i don’t want shit from you spencer! it’s not what i want! it’s your life! my god i shouldn’t have to justify to my colleague, god to my friend why i care about them being alive!”

“well i am alive. so i don’t know why you’re so bothered y/n it’s like your my mother or something” he said as he continued walking up the stair case

“no, you don’t get to do that. you don’t get to put your life on the line and then treat me like i’m the irrational one. painting me as the villain when i only just care about you”

“why do you care so much?”

“because i’m your friend?! because i love you?!”

he ignored you and resumed walking up the stairs

“you know what spencer? it’s because i love you. it’s because i love you so much that it affects my sleep. so much that i always make you coffee when you come in. so much that no matter what i’m doing, where i’m doing or who i’m doing it with, you’re always on my mind. the problem is spencer, not that i love you, that i’m IN love with you. and even at that you can’t seem to let me in. so i don’t know what the fuck to do anymore”

a tear fell down your cheek as you slammed the door and left

spencer standing dead in his tracks on the stair case. honestly wanting to vomit

you spent the rest of your day scream crying. so many emotions that you couldn’t quite process anything

you were laying on your couch, radio head on your phone, dried tears on your cheeks when your heard the doorbell ring

you go and open it

spencer

“hi”

“hi?”

you stood in your doorway, looking at each other with swollen eyes

silence, 2 seemingly frozen bodies

until spencer opened his mouth

“look, i’m sorry.”

“yeah me too”

you were sick of him, sick of how he couldn’t communicate, of how blind he could be. but something about his face was so so good. you were about to shut the door in frustration before spencer started to speak again

“and with what you said, about the love thing...”

he took a big gulp

“i do too. i love you too. i mean i’m in love with you too”

what. the. fuck.

between the shock and the upset you were feeling, there was little part of your heart that warmed when he said those words. you opened your mouth to speak but spencer cut you off

“and i just wanted to say that because i uh i owe you the truth always. regardless. but anyway, i don’t think we should pursue that though”

you stood in your doorway in shock

you didn’t know if you wanted to fight him, cry, or vomit

probably all of the above

you were blank, nothing came to your mouth. you tried to speak, tried to scream , but the only thing that came out was

“what?”

“i’m no good for you, you deserve someone who can be perfect for you. you deserve that truly. and i can’t be that. so i’m sorry but that’s just how it is. i just want you to be happy. you don’t deserve a guy that you have to yell at in stairways, that makes you cry until your eyes swell shut, a guy that cant reconcile his emotions for crap or can’t communicate or anything that i am. so im sorry, but i think this is what’s best for you.” he stuck his hands in his pants

“so bye i guess”

you were paralyzed, a surplus of information hitting you all at once. you couldn’t quite process it but you knew you couldn’t just let him walk away

“you’re idiotic” you shouted as he was about to get on the elevator

“i’m what now?”

“idiotic. no ones buying the ‘i’m not a nice guy’ crap”

“it’s not crap, it’s true. i’m no good for you”

“oh please spencer you’re acting like this is your villian orgin story. first off, who do you think you even are? i’m an adult i don’t need a white man who doesn’t know how to brush his hair to tell me whats ‘good for me’”

“i’m just looking out for you”

“okay, thanks, but i’m a big girl spencer i know how to take care of myself. and even so i don’t even think thats what this is about. you know what i think? i think that you’re too scared to admit that you don’t feel the same way. which is fine by the way, but if you’re to scared to face the reality of whatever your feeling and youre covering it by turning it on me? by saying that ‘i’m too good for you’ thats fucked up and thats that spencer.”

you caught your breath and continued

“because spencer i know you’re pulling all this shit about not being good for me but is that even true? spencer reid we’re perfect for eachother. in every way. and if you’re blind to that than whatever, but i don’t want you to lie to try and tiptoe around my feelings”

“ever since you walked into the bau y/n ive loved you. every word you’ve ever said to me get played on repeat in my head. i love you i would want nearly nothing but to be with you y/n. i love you that much. that’s why i’m trying to our myself above what i want and above whatever so that you can be the happiest you can be. it’s just that i don’t want to hurt you. you don’t deserve that. i never want you to hurt ever. and i can only prevent that by taking myself out of the picture”

“spencer, when i said i love you. it means all of you. i want every side to spencer reid. i want your complications too. it’s all worth it spencer because you’re the one for me”

you two stood there for a couple minutes. it was the longest and shortest time of your life. spencer eventually took a deep sigh and stepped in a step closer to you, looking down at your face

red from the crying, left eye swollen shut, giving him a weak smile

“you’re the one for me”

——

i want your dreary mondays

“thursday”

“no?! the worst day of the week is monday obviously”

“monday is underrated in my opinion”

you were conversing with spencer while walking through the park after dinner

“monday is the worst, it’s so hard after the two perfect days of rest to return the mundane process of life”

“sure”

“so thursday? story behind that?”

“hey have you seen spence?” you asked around the office, only getting head shakes

it was the monday after a long weekend, and spencer has had a less than ideal day

just woke up on the wrong side of the bed, spilt hot coffee on his pants, forgot his satchel at hole

you searched around for him, when you realized

when spencer was overwhelmed or stressed or sad or anything like that, he retreated to the basement file room

no one ever went down there, and there was a closet with a couch in it that was good for taking mid day breaks

you ran down the stairs, opening the door to the closet and sure enough spencer was there

“hey”

“hi”

he wiped his hand across his face, presumably for a tear

“what’s up spence?”

you said scooting next to him on the closet couch

“having a monday”

“i’m sorry to hear that, what’s going on”

“well besides the coffee incident and satchel problem...” he began to rant about how his day was going less than ideal. when he stopped abruptly

“hey, you don’t need to listen to this”

“i dont have to, but i want to”

“are you sure? i’d hate to bore you with my bad day”

“come on spence, i want your dreary mondays something you gotta recognize, is that you’re such an incredible person, that your bad days are better than most people’s best.”

“yeah, perspective right. my worst days are someone’s best”

“yeah, but don’t ever feel invalidated abt your bad days, you always deserve to feel upset, and i’ll always be here to listen to it”

“god i love you”

��-

wrap your arms around me baby boy

spencer wasn’t a touchy person

germaphobe habits

but something about you, he was magnetic to you

no matter what it was, on the jet, in the office, while in line at the grocery store, anywhere and everywhere he always had you in a hug

coming up behind you while you were cooking, wrapping his arms around the back of your neck while you were working

he adored you, and you adored him

after a case, the team decided to hit the local bar, nearing the end of the night, they started to play slower stuff

slower jazzier beats, the dj came on and said

“okay you couples! get up there”

a few couples hand gone up, you were tugging on spencer’s arm to accompany you up there

“well if you don’t go you know morgan will”

derek raised an eyebrow at him, and before you knew it he was dragging you on stage.

poor spencer didn’t know how to dance correctly, he was standing so far from you. hands in each other’s hands like middle schoolers

“jeez spence, wrap your arms around me”

you grabbed his hands, positioning them on your waist, you wrapped your arms around his neck, and leaned into his chest

swaying back and forth, as the sinatra echoed the other the bar and the click of garcias camera could be heard

and in that moment, nothing felt better or more right, than dancing in spencer reids arms

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fluffy #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer x y/n #mgg #mgg fic #mgg x fem!reader #fem reader #sr #criminal minds fluffy #criminal minds fic #matthew gray gubler #mgg fluff

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your-daily-biaswrecking · 4 years ago

Text

Serva me, Servabo te

save me and I will save you

pairing: photographer!Taehyung x f.reader

genre: angst, smut, slight enemies to lovers

word count: 7.3k | reading time: 40 min

chapter summary: flash backs clear the mystery of their first encounter, they fight over it, and then things get a bit heavier

warnings: there’s finally some sexy stuff going on yall, alcohol usage, metions of cheating, some dirty talk ig, some not very fluffy smut, almost angry fucking, dubious I’d say, fingering f.receiving, oral f.receiving, kinda dom!Tae, name calling kink? idk

All chapters | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Chapter 5: Irresistible urges of the past

3 years, 2 months, and 14 days ago at 7:35 pm

The party was Yoonji's idea but you never complained. Well, okay, you complained a little bit. But that was only when you heard the approximate number of guests that had been invited so far and argued your small, shared apartment would probably collapse from the total weight in it. You offered to move the function over to the bar down the street, but apparently, that's not a house-warming party.

"How on earth are so many people coming, anyway? We have, like, five friends at most. And that is including the lunch lady."

Yoonji gave you those puppy eyes. "Well, actually, Jimin just made an Instagram story to get the word out, not thinking many would wanna come," she mumbled under her breath, almost like she was trying to avoid giving you the explanation. "But it turns out ever since that video he did, lots and lots of people wanna be his friend now."

You exhaled hard, making a pathetic sound. "You gave the guy you've only been seeing for a couple of weeks permission to invite people to our party?"

She pouted at you. "I thought you liked him. Plus, he offered to do this for us. We barely know people here, Amy, this party is going to be the best to see new faces."

You chewed your lip as you were setting the drinks on the table in a nice order and contemplated your roommate's words. "What do you need new people for?" you whined. "You already have a best friend and a hot boyfriend."

Yoonji bumped her shoulder on your arm playfully. "But you don't. Who knows, maybe you'll like one of Jimin's friends."

You rolled your eyes at her, but that didn't cover up the smile that had started to form. "Doubt it," you objected. "Models are not exactly my type."

You heard Yoonji laugh from the kitchen. "Jimin's not a model!" she shouted back. Then peeked her head around the doorway to raise an eyebrow at you. "I mean, you're not entirely wrong."

People that you had never even seen before started showing up at your place, and without fail, they all asked where Jimin and Taehyung were. Rude, you thought. That was not their party; something that could easily be deduced by how they weren't even there yet. Also, when had Jimin become so popular all of a sudden? And who the fuck was Taehyung?

At about an hour after the place was already packed and your roommate's boyfriend had finally made an appearance, Yoonji just so happened that she was constantly MIA, and the task of welcoming the people that kept and kept on coming, fell entirely on your shoulders. A task that briefly seemed not so bad when you opened the door and a brown-haired, pretty boy stood in front of you. You guessed models were indeed invited to that party, the only explanation you could come up with for why the most handsome man you had ever led your eyes upon was looking at you and smiling.

"Is this Yoonji's and... Amy's party?" he asked and you were taken aback by his deep, raspy voice that countered his charming face.

"Yes," you said, letting him in. "And are you on the bride's or the groom's side?" You hated the joke the moment it left your lips, a moment too late to take it back. Five full seconds spent with a cute boy and you were already acting weird.

But the boy laughed, and the sound quite literally lifted your spirits. "I am with Jimin if that's what you're asking."

"Of course you are. Jacket?" You offered your hands up for him.

"Oh, right, where can I leave this?" he asked as he slid the piece of garment off his shoulders. You opened the door right behind you, a door that normally led to a small storage space, but you had turned into a temporary closet with all the jackets and purses you had shoved in there. The boy leaned next to you as he tried to find somewhere to leave his outerwear without just dropping it on the pile on the floor.

"Let me," you offered, taking a random jacket that hung from the ironing board, abandoning it on the ground, and replacing it with the pretty boy's one. That's pretty privilege for you.

He chuckled. "Whose was that? Is that okay?"

"Who cares, it's my house."

"Oh," he exclaimed, watching you more closely as you closed the door again and turned to him with your lips awkwardly pressed into a thin line. You pinned your body on the wall, waiting for him to move or say something. "You're Amy?" You nodded, and the boy burst out a big smirk. "Well, well, well..." he rasped. "I'm gonna kick Jimin's ass so hard. He didn't tell me Yoonji had such a cute roommate."

The way your entire face felt like it had caught on fire in a split second almost scared you. It definitely made your eyes widen and your head go into a defense mode; you had never flustered before, of course your brain would think it was under attack. And of course you would reply with something stupid again, like snorting and saying: "Right. And you are?"

"Kim Taehyung, freshly graduated and aspiring big photographer," he proudly introduced himself. It all suddenly seemed to click and you barely held yourself from gasping right in his face. He extended a hand to you, and you took it, ready to shake it. Instead, he surprised you by bringing it to his lips and planting a soft kiss right between your knuckles. "Enchanté," he whispered with his dark eyes piercing yours.

The stupid fire all over your face got worse. So worse all you could do was quickly pull away and scoff at him, but also laugh. "That was too much!"

"Sorry," he chuckled and gave you a big, boxy grin. "I was trying to make you swoon."

You couldn't help but mimic his energy. "Does that ever work on anyone?" Well, what a liar you are. It had literally turned your stomach into a knot.

And Taehyung, almost as if he knew that, smirked at you. "You'd be surprised."

Okay, so you may have overreacted a tiny bit when you took off running away from Taehyung. There could possibly have been other ways to go about it, like gently pushing him off and telling him this was a mistake, trying to talk, or even staying silent. Your head was spinning so hard as you stumbled down that path wishing you don't get lost in the foggy state your mind had dipped in due to the haste. And it had almost cleared, you had almost stopped to think about this rationally and wait for the photographer so that you could walk home together, but the longer you thought about it more clearly, the faster you ran. You didn't even know if it was fear or shame that was powering your flight, but it had to be one of those.

The further you stayed locked in your room, the later emotion became more and more prominent. You saw Taehyung emerge from the trees sometime later and get in the house, you heard him on the downstairs floor, you saw the lights turn on and off... He was everywhere, and you were hiding away, terrified and ashamed. How could you ever meet his eyes again? But most importantly, how would you face yourself in the mirror? You knew that was the worst part of the whole situation; you let your own self down.

3 years, 2 months, and 14 days ago at 1:23 am

You returned on the corner that Taehyung and you had been occupying all night long with a drink in your hands, swaying around and trying to survive the mob of drunk college students that were doing what you were sure they thought was dancing in the middle of the living room. Some of the drink spilled on the way and you're not sure if it was because of all the bumping on people or the way you had started seeing everything double and losing your balance pretty easily.

"What the hell happened to my chair?" you whined as you found the photographer sitting there alone when you had specifically asked him to save you the seat.

He shrugged. "I couldn't defend it, sorry." Then he spread his legs wide and pat his thigh, looking up at you with a smirk. "Just sit here."

You didn't think twice; sat down on his offered position, swinging your legs to the side to completely lie on his lap and an arm around his neck for balance. Your face was inches away from his, so much so you could smell the alcohol in his breath, his hands instantly on your waist and hips to pull you close. But it felt so comfortable. Since the moment you met, you hadn't left each other's side, and you hadn't stopped touching. Touching as in holding hands while talking or pushing him while laughing, playing with your clothes or stroking each other's hair. It seemed like there was always an excuse, or, better yet, constantly a need to touch.

"Ugh!" he gagged when he took one sip of the drink you had brought right to his lips. "What is this shit?"

You giggled. "Tequila."

"Is it just tequila?"

You kept giggling. "Actually, we ran out of soft drinks so I mixed it with water."

His mouth dropped open and he started laughing, too. "Of course! Why wouldn't you!" His hands around your body squeezed you tighter and you had to squirm around, still a need to get even closer.

"It's not that bad," you proclaimed, then took a sip from the same straw and had your entire face scrunch up. "See?"

Taehyung had gotten serious, staring at you intensely, as he slowly brought the straw right on his tongue yet again. He took a generous gulp, then offered the drink to you, his eyes fixed on your lips and the way they wrapped around right where his had just been. His stare gave you goosebumps, and you pressed yourself even closer, your hip flushed right against his lower abdomen.

"You know I don't drink," he said in a whisper. He didn't need to speak louder, you were right there. "I'm only doing this for you."

"Well," you mumbled as your fingers ran through the back of his hair. "That makes two of us doing something we don't usually do tonight." And you meant it. You never did this; whatever this was. Sitting on a cute boy's lap that you had only met a couple of hours ago, ready to devour him with the first chance you got. And boy, would you devour him.

"We haven't done anything yet," Taehyung noted, his hand dipping between your legs to pinch your thing.

"Yet," you murmured, pressing even closer to him, feeling his erection grow against your hip.

Your eyes alone could communicate. And all they conveyed was the urgency to get out of there. The need to be alone. Your entire body burned with that need, or maybe it was the alcohol. With no words spoken, you both got up, holding hands not to get lost in the crowd, and searched in the apartment for an empty room. The bathroom was locked, the kitchen busy, one bedroom filled with boys playing video games and the other with smokers. Taehyung pulled you towards the exit; he wasn't about to let the moment escape him. He would get you in his car or even back to his place if he had to, just to get his hands properly on you.

But you didn't have time for that. You needed him right away. So you opened up that makeshift closet and shoved him inside. Space was limited and your bodies were naturally pressed together. The moment the door closed behind you, you realized how dark it was; the light switch being outside, forgotten. You felt his hands ran up your body, trying to blindly find your face with haste like he was being chased.

His lips found yours. And you indeed devoured each other. He had you pinned against the door and his fingers through your hair as he kissed you like a starved man. You know how first kisses almost always suck? How it takes a while to find the right rhythm, to lean into it just enough to match the other's technic? That was nothing like that. It was the best kiss you had ever had, it was so perfect and so right. The way his lips moved over your own and his tongue stroked you, it was like you had done this a million times already, or simply like you were made for each other.

Nothing could stop you now. Not even your common sense that would advise you against fucking just anyone in that tiny space, when everyone was still outside. But common sense had left you long ago. Your body was being controlled by an innate, animalistic hunger. And you moaned his name as you straddled his waist and let him suck hickeys into your neck. And you thought about how this is the best thing that had happened to you as you started taking off his belt.

You heard it again; a thump in the room. This time it was certainly not just in your head. You looked around -let's be honest- scared out of your mind because the last thing you needed right now was for something to be hidden in there with you.

"Tae?" you asked in a low voice, just in case he was playing a stupid prank on you. But you were met with silence.

Until it happened again, a louder tap, and this time you determined it was coming from the window. Slowly, while keeping your body as far away as you could, you got closer. You stared at the glass, trying to figure out why it was making that sound. Then you saw it; a small pebble clashing on the pane and disappearing just as fast. You opened it immediately and leaned outside.

"What the hell?" you shouted when you noticed the shadow-covered man standing in the garden under your room. "What are you doing down there?"

Taehyung tossed away the stones he had in his palms, straining his neck to look up at you. "I wanted to talk to you."

"And you thought -instead of just coming to my room- it'd be easier to walk downstairs, get outside and throw rocks at my window?"

"I thought you wouldn't let me in if I just knocked on your door," he explained.

You groaned. He wasn't wrong; you would have probably continued to hide away and avoid him. But he didn't have to be so dramatic about it. Well, not that you are one to talk. "Ugh, just- get your ass in here," you shouted back.

"You're gonna talk to me?"

"Yes."

"Promise?"

You groaned again. "Yes!"

You saw Taehyung run inside as if he was afraid you would change your mind in the meantime. Perhaps you would. You really didn't want to talk to him. What would you even say? You had no excuse to give him, or no excuse you wanted him to know, anyway. All you wanted was to pretend he wasn't even there until morning came; then you could drive back home and go back to pretending you didn't even know each other.

"He is crazy," you mumbled to yourself as you decided you couldn't evade this anymore. "No, that man is certified insane!" you kept on complaining to no one as you opened your door and dashed away.

You ran into him in the middle of the staircase. Stood there, just a step away from him, with your arms folded over your chest, keeping your eyes anywhere but on him.

"So?" you spat.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said in a whisper, a tone that sounded like he was guilty of something.

"Yes, I got that. You can talk now."

He looked down at your feet. "Here?"

You scoffed and moved past him, jogging down the stairs and taking a turn towards the kitchen. The boy followed you diligently. When you reached the room, you immediately grabbed a glass and filled it with water, chugging it down in one go and going for a second turn. You really wished this was something stronger, looking around to see if you could spot a bottle of some kind of liquor. You would need it if you were to have the conversation you thought you would.

"I have a confession to make," Taehyung announced after he decided the silence was enough.

You froze, the glass of water still against your lips, and you looked at him from the corner of your eyes. "Oh, please," you groaned but still couldn't move. "No more confessions from you."

He sighed, walking until he got right in front of you so that he could look you in the eyes for this. "I remember your party."

See, this is exactly what you feared the most. This...This conversation was what was making this place truly haunted for you.

"What?" you weakly breathed.

"Your... welcoming party? With Yoonji?" he continued. As if you didn't know what party he was talking about. "I remember everything about it."

"But-"

"I wasn't that drunk."

The glass hit the counter with such force, for a second you thought you had broken it in your grip. But it had just provided a loud noise as you gaped at the boy in front of you. What were you supposed to say, now? Where to start?

"You didn't even remember meeting me!" you called out.

"Yeah I- I lied."

The worst part wasn't that he was pretending he didn't know who you were. No, that was low-key genius and you would have done the exact same thing if you were quick enough to think of it when you found yourself in that sitting room, across the person you least wanted to see. The worst part was that you had believed it. You felt like such an idiot. You had believed it and thought it meant you could have a clean start.

3 years, 2 months, and 14 days ago at 1:44 am

You didn't want to stop, but you still did, when Taehyung's phone went off. When he pulled away, gasping for air and apologizing. You thought you were having a moment there, you know, a moment where no matter who was calling, it wasn't important enough to pick up. But he apparently didn't see it that way. He took one look at his screen and asked you to be quiet.

Maybe your eyes accidentally caught the pet name on his contact for a split second, or maybe it was the girly voice that came muffled from the speaker, but your head started spinning without warning. And the space was suddenly too small, and it was choking you. You found the knob before he realized what you were doing, and with your body weight on the door, you were launched outside; into the light that burned your eyes. A girl was standing on the other side of the hallway, looking at you with judgement in her eyes and her phone in her hands, then immediately averting her pretentious gaze. A hand tried to hold onto your shirt to keep you back, but you escaped.

You stumbled through the place, not sure where you were trying to go or who you were trying to find, solely trying to keep yourself up and not barf on the new carpet. You wanted to get away, but where could you go? You lived there. You heard Yoonji's laugh before you even saw her, sighing in relief when you spotted her in the kitchen and letting your body fall on hers.

"Baby, baby, everything alright?" your roommate called for you, but you just held onto her without a word. She tried to bear your weight as best as she could, holding onto the counter so that you wouldn't both plummet onto the floor.

Another hand rubbed your back. "Did you drink a little too much, Ames?" It was Jimin's sweet voice. You whined into your friend's neck before you pulled back to look at her boyfriend.

"Jimin, is Kim Taehyung your friend?" you asked him.

He frowned, a little confused as to how the conversation got there. "Ye- yeah. He's my best friend. You met him, right?"

"Yeah," Yoonji responded for you. "I saw them talking earlier."

You took a deep breath; everything seemed to be against you at that moment, even the air itself, and you were trying so hard to not crumble. "Does he have a girlfriend?" you dared ask, even though you thought you might vomit if you heard the answer.

"Who? Tae?" Yoonji mumbled. You nodded, and she gave you a smirk right away. "Ohh... Why do you ask, baby? You interested?"

You rolled your eyes as both of them started teasing you. "No," you tried to tell them.

"Why, was he flirting with you?"

"How does he get every girl like that?"

"No, guys-"

"I don't blame her. He's so hot."

"Hey! I'm right here!"

"Just answer the damn question!" you yelled at them, and they finally stopped. Jimin looked at you with the same frown again.

"He does," he said and everything that was spinning in the room stopped abruptly. "Sorry, love. I promise you'll be the first to know when they break up."

Everything was foggy, and you felt numb. So numb, there was absolutely no thought in your head. You barely noticed the couple turn their heads to the door, barely realized who it was they were looking at.

"No, thanks," you whispered to Jimin then and pulled Yoonji away. "Bathroom," you simply stated and she carefully took you there, avoiding successfully the boy that was the topic of your conversation. For the first time of the many, many more that followed. All those times you stayed clear of gatherings you knew he would be at. All those times you changed your way, left a coffee shop, stayed silently in a corner in places there was nowhere else to go. You never told Yoonji exactly why you didn't want to be in the same room with him again, but she was very supportive no matter what.

You weren't sure why, either. Whether it was your hurt ego, your high standards for the people surrounding you, or the shame you felt every time you met his eyes, you couldn't tell. One thing you knew for sure was how you vowed to never fall for that again. Not from Taehyung, and not from anyone else. No more hooking up with random fuck boys at parties. No more associating yourself with people you don't even value enough. Kim Taehyung was an asshole, and you didn't care what he did or who he did it with, but you would rather be caught dead than be caught with him ever again.

Yet there you were. With him.

You cleared your throat. "And you're telling me this now because...?"

The photographer frowned, mostly at himself, clenching his jaw and looking at the ground. "Well, because you kissed me and ran away as if your life depended on it. Thought it might have something to do with that."

"Right." You bit the inside of your cheek, nodding slightly as you tried to think of what to say. Truly, what could you say? There have been so many things torturing your mind, but you didn't know which of those would be worth saying aloud. "Okay," you simply mumbled. "Are we done then?"

You tried walking past him but he held you back. "Wait, wait, hold on. You promised we would talk."

You just looked at him with your eyes wide. "You said you had a confession to make. You made it. There’s nothing more to say about that."

"Yes, there is."

"Like what?"

Taehyung snorted, finally letting you go. "Like what your problem with me is!"

You released a bitter laugh. "I thought you said you remember everything about that night."

He licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. "It's been three years-"

"And you stay lying to me." He looked at you intensely but you didn't back down. You might not have wanted to have this conversation, but now that it was happening, you wouldn't cower one bit.

"Look," he started, taking a step closer. "What I did was wrong. Both to you and to my girlfriend. I understand, it was very shitty and I don't have any excuses. I'm not here to give you any excuses."

"Yeah, 'cause there is no excuse for such a thing," you bit back.

Taehyung sighed at your attitude, somewhat losing his patience, but continued. "Right," he mumbled through his teeth. "I told her what I did and we broke up. Actually, she forgave me and wanted to stay with me but I insisted on breaking up because I didn't want her to be in a relationship where I made such a mistake, I wanted her to find someone better."

You shrugged, folding your arms over your chest yet again and tapping your foot on the floor. "Alright. Good for her. What do you want, a cookie?"

"No-"

"You really did less than the minimum, there, buddy. I don't know what you want from me right now."

"I- nothing!"

"Then why are you telling me this?"

He paused, opening and closing his mouth again, clearly not knowing how to reply. Maybe he expected a different reaction, or maybe he was nervous and it all translated into a type of irritation, but he was starting to look angry. "Because!" he said in a louder tone. "Because you keep treating me like that, you're acting like I'm this huge asshole, and I get it- first impressions are hard to change, but I'm not! I'm not that asshole you've made me out to be and quite frankly it's starting to get pretty annoying."

You chuckled. What else were you supposed to do? You couldn't believe what you were hearing. "Excuse me, but I have the right to believe anything I want about you. If I have a certain idea of who you are and it's not affecting you in any way, then what's the problem?" You saw Taehyung roll his eyes and turn away, his hands on his hips as he shook his head and sighed. "If I think what you did is bad enough for me to never change my mind about you, then that's my opinion."

He was mumbling his words out, not being able to form a sentence long enough for it to make sense. "But that's- you-" He kept grunting and shaking his head at you until he finally spoke up. "Three years!" he announced. "It's been three years, Amy, and you're still punishing me for this. Alright, it's your opinion to determine the gravity of it, but don't tell me it doesn't affect me. Not when you've been avoiding me for three years."

"I haven't-" you tried to lie.

But he knew better than that. "Yes, you have. Every time I wanted to come along with my friends, something always came up and you'd bail. You didn't even show up at Jimin's birthday for crying aloud! Because you knew I'd be there. And I wanted to talk to you, apologize to you. I liked you and wanted to make this right and you never gave me the chance." He took a deep breath after having given his monologue in a haste, almost like he was scared his words would bail, too, if he wasn't quick enough. "And then you're wondering why I pretended I didn't remember you?" You blinked at him when you realized he was waiting for an answer. You had none to give him. "What was I supposed to do, huh? What could I have done that wouldn't have resulted in you getting back in that car and driving away?"

You stayed silent, looking at him through your lashes, then averting your gaze again. You sniffed your nose a couple of times as you were trying to get your thoughts straight. Kicked the floor once or twice as you felt your body squirm under his stare; he wouldn't relieve you from the scrutiny. "I..." you finally mumbled. "I'm not interested in reconciling with you." You gulped but noticed his stance and expression didn't change at all. Like he expected those words. "I'm sorry if that's what you wanted to do, and that I prevented you from even trying. But I won't change my mind about this."

He licked his lips, looking at you with a serious frown, then simply said: "Why?"

Why was he even asking? Was it not obvious? "Look, I simply don't like people who do things like these. I don't want them as boyfriends, or friends, or anything. Nothing personal."

"But that's what I'm trying to say!" he insisted. "I'm not like that." He came close, so close his face was hovering above yours merely inches away, staring into your eyes with a sort of urgency. An urgency for you to understand him. "I'm not normally like that. That night... I don't know. That night was an exception. I really don't want to give you cliché excuses, but I thought you knew. I thought you felt it, too. I'm not crazy, right? There was something there that you felt, too?"

You gulped again, looking him up and down with fire all over your face. Because you knew instantly what he meant. But it had to take a few moments for it to actually sink in. That it wasn't just you. And that he, too, was unable to keep his hands from you that night. It certainly didn't justify his actions or lessen your disdain for him. But at least it felt a tiny bit good to know that you weren't just a naive little girl who had fallen for the pretty boy's trick, just like dozens of others.

"That still doesn't explain..." you started saying, keeping your opinion openly still the same, yet not denying his words.

"I know it doesn't!" he was quick to say. His eyes traveled all over your face, the tone of his voice having calmed a bit. "It was very douchy of me and I don't expect to be forgiven for it. Which is why I didn't stay with that girl." You jumped slightly when you felt his hands land on your arms. But you didn't pull away. "But I don't understand why you have to be so harsh on me. It's been three years, and this is still obviously bothering you. You haven't let it go even a little bit."

You looked away, taking a step back, but he quickly made up for it. "It doesn't bother me," you said, tongue in cheek.

"Well, it clearly does," he insisted. "When you are cold to me one moment, kissing me the next, and then running away like I hurt you."

"You did hurt me."

The words left your mouth before you could stop them. Before you even knew what you were saying yourself. He hurt you. You had never admitted that before. Always blaming your anger and aversion to him on your morals or whatever. Yet that was the true reason you didn’t want to see him, and you didn’t want to talk to him, and definitely not kiss him again.

Taehyung paused, taking a deep breath. He leaned nearer as he looked down at your lips as whispered. “I know,” he said in a sweet voice as if to reassure you. “I know.” That meant you weren’t crazy. “But why is it still hurting you now?” You tensed up at his question. “Why do you care -about me- so much that this is, to this day, an open wound?”

You scoffed. But you couldn't say anything. You tried pushing him away, and for a moment he let you, but then he was right in front of you again. Even closer, perhaps. “What are you…?” you murmured, looking quite lost. Especially with the close proximity that was driving your mind into a frenzy.

“Do you still like me?” he asked, straightforward.

“No!” you called immediately. But he didn’t seem convinced, raising an eyebrow at you. "I’m not still hurt. I just… I told you. I simply don't want anything to do with someone like you. So it's fine when you keep your distance, but it's not fine when you kiss me. I said I don't want- ."

"Yeah, yeah, you don't want a boyfriend nor a friend like me," he interrupted you to finish your sentence. "Not that I ever offered to be either of those."

Your cheeks flushed and you looked away immediately so as not to get caught. "I- I didn't say I wanted you to."

Taehyung chuckled. The sound almost scared you more than when he was shouting earlier. Because you knew a casual, flirty Taehyung was always more dangerous. "You know, you kissed me!" he reminded you.

Your mouth dropped in a dramatic way. "You seduced me into kissing you!" you complained.

And the boy laughed even harder. "Seduced? Is that your way of saying you couldn't resist me?"

You tried to fight back at his remarks that clearly only served the role of firing you up -whether that was with anger or something else, you weren't sure. And then he had the audacity to wonder why you still didn't like him? But your voice cracked, as you backed until your body hit the kitchen counter and your hands held the edge tight. "Is not!" you managed to get out.

Taehyung’s arms trapped you in that counter, his hands holding onto it on either side of your body until you were caged between them, as he leaned even closer, standing one breath away and staring at you with a smirk on his lips. It was clear then, he wasn’t trying to talk anymore.

“C’mon,” he rasped, a voice so low that it vibrated in frequencies hard to hear. “I know you can’t resist me. You couldn’t do it three years ago and you can’t do it now.”

Your palms hit his chest, trying to push him away from you as you breathed heavily, hearing your own heartbeat in your head and feeling your control slipping through your fingers. But you still couldn’t form any words. Your brain had shut down when it came to that. Just spinning around as Taehyung kept getting closer. What the hell was he trying to do?

"I'm just saying… There is no one here to judge you for it. No one will know you went against your morals," he purred, a hand leaving your side briefly to swipe your hair off your shoulder and caress your neck in the process. The contact made your palms clench into fists, his shirt pooling under your grip. And there were two ways you could go about this; either push or pull him.

“Tae…”

“Go on then,” he said in a teasing tone. “Show me how much you hate me, princess. How you despise me and everything I stand for. Resist me.”

You did hate him. And you hated being proven wrong. So, those two together should result in you pushing him away and going to your room. Right? You should resist that man, it couldn’t be so hard, anyway. So tell me why the way he was looking at you made your knees buck? Why his words filled your stomach with butterflies, his scent numbed your brain like a hallucinogen? Why you couldn’t resist him.

Tell me why you pulled him in by the shirt.

He didn’t hesitate to wrap his lips around yours. Didn’t waste any time to hold you by the waist and press his body on yours. This was the third chance he was given for this and he was about to make it work. And he seemed to have been waiting for it. He already knew what to do, how to hold you, how to kiss you in order to make you moan in his mouth. It was the party scene all over again; as in, you were devouring each other in a sort of urgency, bumping your lips together like you were drunk and had just found the person you were feeling the craziest chemistry with, grinding on each other as if you were trying to merge together.

And maybe he was right; you could never resist him.

Your fingers dipped into his soft locks and he moaned your name. He snaked his arms under your thighs to push you up, letting you sit at the edge of the counter. He immediately filled in the gap between your legs, hands rubbing up and down your back, while you started kissing down his neck, making sure to mark him as if he was yours. He hissed and growled every time you bit him, riding your shirt up to get a feel of your skin underneath. Then finding your hands, intertwining your fingers together, and pushing them past your body, almost like he was trying to confine them away from him. And you hated not being able to touch him, hated how he pushed your body back to have you almost lay on the counter completely, and you couldn’t move. Because you wanted more.

And maybe he was right; no one would ever know about this. So perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to do this. This mistake. Taehyung.

“Princess, if you plan on regretting this and running away again, you better tell me now,” he rasped while kissing your collarbone. “I might not stop later.”

He was giving you an out. And normally you would have taken it. But at that moment the only thing busying your mind was that implied promise of what was to come.

“You better not,” you mumbled, more to yourself, but heard him chuckle when he heard it, too.

His hands clenched harder around yours before he released you in favor of grabbing your ass and your thighs. He squeezed you close, pulling you until your crotch was rubbing against his clear erection under his pants, and all you could do was whimper. Still kissing his neck, that sweet spot under his ear, biting his lob, and hearing him grunt at the way you were making him feel. Your hands, free now, could run up his toned arms and enjoy his body like you wanted to for a while.

He pulled his head slightly back to look into your eyes. His seemed so unfocused, so dark, like he had gotten high from you. “You want me to make you feel good?” he asked with a smirk. You weren’t sure if he was asking for permission or just building the anticipation.

“Can you?” No, you weren’t making a plea. You were questioning his skills. And he picked it up from your tone immediately.

“Can I?” he snorted, his eyes turning to the ceiling before he let his fingers slowly and very slightly brush your naked belly, moving further down. Your entire body squirmed with the rhythm of his fingertips. “You shiver every time I touch you. So, yeah, I think I can do anything I want to you.”

You immediately punched his chest, pushing him away. “God, I hate you.”

But his smug smirk wouldn’t back down. And he wouldn’t let go of you. “We have already established that,” he murmured, as he lowered his head down- and farther down- until it was right in front of the fly of your pants. And your stomach was sucked in the entire time, your whole body, actually, as if you were trying to take up less space. As if you were trying to pull away from him, even though at the same time you could feel your lower half burning from want, and your lips were already missing his.

But then he looked up at you too, as he was bent down there in front of your crotch, to stare into your eyes through his lashes with a hotshot grin and his tongue between his teeth; and you forgot how to breathe. And then he unbuttoned you with his mouth, biting the zipper and pulling it down slow enough for you to feel every vibration on your body, without ever breaking eye contact; and you thought your soul left your body.

He was back at his normal height, pushing your pants down while licking his lips and examining your face. “Alright, princess,” he spoke in a low tone. “I will give you my best, on one condition.” The pants were completely off and he was working on your unimpressive underwear next. “Every time I do make you feel good, you have to say my name.”

He had gotten you all naked from your waist down, yet he still hadn’t even glanced there; kept his eyes stubbornly on yours. But when you tried to press your legs together, feeling shy and exposed, he was holding them tight. “That’s your condition?” you wondered, not seeming too hard to do. You were probably going to do it anyway.

He leaned down, keeping his lips close enough to rub on yours when he spoke. “Yes. Every time. I want you to keep reminding yourself who it is that is making you feel this way.” When he kissed you, it worked almost as a distraction to how one hand crept in between your thighs and pressed around your folds, yet avoiding the place you needed him to touch.

His lips moved at the same rhythm as his fingers, his tongue slipping in your mouth right as he finally moved them closer, getting them all dirty with your wetness. Index and middle finger rubbing up and down, brushing against your clit and over your opening but never giving into either. You hummed in frustration as you bit down on his bottom lip, your hips trying to move forward, trying to get more.

“What did I tell you?” he whispered, increasing his pressure on your clit just for a moment, a moment long enough to make you gasp with your mouth open over his.

“Tae…” you breathed.

“Say it,” he insisted.

“Taehyung,” you moaned, closing your eyes as he started moving his fingers in circles over the sensitive bud like a reward.

“You’re so wet, already,” he observed, something quite obvious from the sounds the simple movement was creating. “Is that all for me?” He pulled his head back to watch your reaction better, smiling when he saw you nodding. “Good girl,” he purred, rewarding you yet again with sliding one finger easily inside.

"Oh,” you moaned, your body immediately arching towards his. You still needed more. The better it all felt, the more you wanted from him.

The photographer inhaled sharply through his teeth, stilling his actions. “Amy, what did we say?”

“Taehyung,” you immediately obeyed. And you didn’t need to be told twice. “Taehyung,” you moaned, again and again, as he worked his magic into you. As he kissed you in that way no one had ever been able to replicate. “Taehyung,” as he pushed a second finger in to stretch you out. “Taehyung,” as he found your g-spot and massaged it softly as if he was working with something fragile. “Taehyung, Taehyung,” as he made you come, once, twice, thrice. With his fingers inside you, on your clit, his mouth french-kissing your pussy, his tongue dipping in and out as he lapped at your juices.

All while you had to make yourself think of who exactly was fucking you like that. Who was making your legs shake, your head spin, your sight and hearing unclear. Whose hair you were pulling, whose teeth you had marks of on your thighs, whose name you were screaming.

Kim Taehyung.

Next Chapter

#kim taehyung #taehyung fanfic #bts #bangtan #v #fanfiction #multichapter #enemies to lover #taehyung x reade #taehyung x oc #slow burn #smut #angst #bts x reader #taehyung photographer au #victorian manor #serva me servabo te #save me and i will save you #chapter 5

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tigerseye46 · 4 years ago

Note

idk if ur still taking prompts but since youve been reblogging a lot of zhuhou, how about prompt 72 and 116?

My time has come. You have no idea how much I love this ship. I made this cute.

72. “I like the way your hand fits in mine.” 116. “Somebody’s cranky.” “Somebody needs to shut up.”

------------------ Wukong curses as light peeks through the window, hitting his eyes. He reaches to the right of him, his eyes snap open when he realizes he’s grabbing at nothing and all there is is lingering warmth. He mutters another curse under his breath, where is Bajie? He wants cuddles.

He buries his face in his pillow, tossing and turning, not comfortable without another body pressed up against his. It continues like that until Bajie walks into the room with a basket of peaches. He grabs a peach and bites into it, juice spilling over his lips. The pig presses a kiss on his partner’s back, the monkey whines when a part of his fur feels sticky. “Where have you been?” Wukong asks, his voice a deep whisper.

“By one of your peach trees, picking fruit and eating,” he replies, taking another bite.

He scoffs, “What else is new?”

Bajie rolls his eyes and sits down. Wukong wraps his arms around his waist, he nuzzles his chest. The pig runs a hand through his fur so soft and gentle that the king’s lips curl up into a smile until his partner’s loud chewing rings in his ears, he grumbles. “Somebody’s cranky.”

“Somebody needs to shut up. Your chewing is too loud.”

“You’re rude. My chewing is just fine. Want a peach?”

“I’m okay.”

He lets out a mock gasp. “The handsome monkey king not wanting peaches. What kind of world is this?”

“Shush. Not hungry. Just want cuddles.” If he wasn’t so cranky and needy then it might have taken him longer to admit that he wanted cuddle time but he would set his pride to take in Bajie’s warmth.

The pig smirks at him. “Don’t you have stuff to do?”

“Later. Ma and Liu will call me if something pops up. Now lay down.”

His partner places the basket and half eaten peach on their bedside table. He lays down and rests his head against the monkey’s. The monkey kisses him, tasting the peach juice left on his spouse’s lips, their cheeks are tinted with pink.

Bajie shuts his eyes while Wukong massages his cheek. He observes him intently, taking in his beauty. He ponders how he got to this point with Bajie of all people, married and in complete bliss. Just a few centuries ago, they were at each other’s throats and bickering like crazy. He remembers their fight where the pig fared against him better than others he had faced. It wasn't easy traveling with him at first, the pig was difficult (as if he wasn't the same) and determined to get away from the journey but eventually he had proven his worth and along the way, Wukong fell for him.

He spent time denying it, questioning how he could love him yet the pig carried a certain appeal, he had a soft side to him and when Wukong needed him, he was there, especially with the Red Boy incident where Wujing thought him dead while Bajie figured out what to do in a snap.

Wukong squeezes his hand, he intertwines their fingers together, he rests his chin on his other hand, his elbow on the pillow. Bajie grumbles when he feels staring, he sees his husband looking at him in complete adoration, he blushes. “What are you staring at?”

“You. Obviously.”

“Why? Didn’t you want to cuddle?”

“I can’t cuddle you while staring?”

“Tch. Guess you can.”

Wukong presses a kiss against his head, the monkey runs a thumb over the back of his husband’s hand. “I like the way your hand fits in mine,” he mentions.

He snorts. “Shouldn't I be saying that? Your hands are small.”

His husband smacks him lightly in the chest in response. “I am not small at all! Take that back!”

The pig chuckles, smooching his cheek. “I just said your hands were small. Someone insecure about their height now, love?”

“Shush. Go back to sleep, you giant.”

“I take that as a compliment.”

“Hmph.” Wukong smooches him three times then plants his face on his chest. “I love you,” he whispers.

“Love you too.” They stay there, legs and arms wrapped around each other until they fell asleep. Later they would wake up with smiles on their faces, messing with each other about how that was the worst cuddle session they’ve ever had and how the other should really get better at it then they would hold hands as they went about their day, little kisses and words of love exchanged. To them, that was bliss.

#jttw #journey to the west #zhu bajie #sun wukong #zhuhou #I like giving them soft moments #request this ship more please because I need an excuse to write it #I'm getting a new prompt list after I finish the other ones #my fic

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red-writing-on-asylum-walls · 3 years ago

Text

Like Everyone Who Was Dragged There First (Again)

A rewrite of the original fic. I’m...not sure if this one is actually better? Or just longer. I think I cleared some things up and filled in some plot holes buutttt idk. Lemme know what you guys think.

Warnings for: torture, blood, violence, child endangerment, strangulation, implied child abuse, implied past torture, force feeding, implied psychotic break, this is not how mental health works

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“Heya, Jake. Long time, no see.”

The bowl slipped out of Jake’s numb fingers and clattered to the floor, spilling popcorn all over the carpet. The air felt frigid and thick, the world slippery against the cold clamminess of his skin. His lungs didn’t seem to want to work right, he couldn’t breathe, his brain short circuiting as it desperately tried to reconcile what it was seeing.

Aaron Pierly was sitting casually on the couch next to Milo. There was a ratty backpack on the floor between his feet and an all to familiar smirk on his face.

Jake was already on the brink of panic, thoughts tumbling over one another as Milo stared at him in confusion. Dan wasn’t home. Jake’s cellphone was upstairs and out of reach. Aaron was sitting too close to Milo. Dan wasn’t home and he wouldn’t be for several hours. Dan wasn’t home and they were in very real danger.

“Aaron.” His voice was tight, squeezed out of his throat in a reluctant gasp of stale air. It tasted like old, dusty fears being pulled from the attic of his mind.

“Dad?” Said Milo and Aaron’s eyes flickered with something wicked and gleeful.

“Wwhhhaattt? This is your kid? Aw, Jake, how could you be so cruel? Why didn’t you tell your own brother that you had a son?” Aaron’s voice was teasing, could almost have been friendly if not for the sour, mocking edge to it. And the look in his eyes that said something else entirely.

“I have an uncle?” Milo perked up excitedly and Jake wanted to scream and pull him away from the monster he sat next to.

“You didn’t even tell your kid about me? Ouch, big brother, that hurts my feelings.” The words were acid as Aaron hissed them through the grin in his teeth. His arm coiled around Milo’s shoulder, a python trapping its prey, his fingers curling into the soft fabric of the shark hoodie, “How about we talk in the kitchen? Make another bowl of popcorn. See what kind of fun we can have.”

It was not a suggestion.

Aaron pulled Milo off the couch, arm still around his shoulders, pinning the boy to his side as he steered them past Jake and back into the kitchen. Jake had to follow them. Dan wasn’t here so Jake was going to do everything he could to protect Milo, no matter what it took. He forced himself to follow and tried to keep the fear off his face, for Milo’s sake, tried not to wince when Aaron pressed his hand into Milo’s shoulder and forced him to sit down in a kitchen chair. Jake stood in the doorway, trying to take steady breaths, his palms sweating and his heart thudding. Aaron was humming tunelessly as he lifted the backpack up and set it on the table.

“I brought some of our old toys we used to play with together,” The devil in his brother’s skin said cheerily, “For nostalgia, ya know.” The zipper on the backpack sounded like cracking bones in the heavy quiet of the house, “Remember this stuff?” Aaron turned the bag over and dumped its contents onto the table.

A scream swelled in Jake’s throat and then wouldn’t come out. He forgot how to breathe, choking on icy panic as he tripped backwards and nearly fell out of the kitchen. The world felt muffled, drowned by a roaring in his ears and the painful thudding of his own heart pounding fists against the prison bars of his ribcage. The edges of his vision went dark and fuzzy, static clinging to his mind, old blood in his nose, long healed aches flaring deep in his bones. All he could see were the old instruments of torture spilling across the kitchen table, so bright and vivid and full of memories he wished he didn’t have.

“Dad?” Milo’s voice from somewhere far away, miles away and underwater, a thread in the maze of panic leading him to the exit, “Jake? Dad? W-what’s going on? Dad!?”

A chair scrape on the tile floor.

A thud.

“You stay in your seat, brat. Unless you want to play too…”

“Don’t touch him!” Jake didn’t remember moving but as the world snapped back into clear focus, he found he had put himself between Milo and Aaron. His hand was gripping Aaron’s wrist in a shaking grip, having wrenched it off of Milo’s shoulder.

Aaron looked far too pleased, “I won’t touch him if you play with me, Jake. I’ve missed out time together. It’s no fun without around.” There was such darkness in his voice, such loathing, that Jake pulled his hand away from Aaron as if he could feel it burning through his skin.

“I…” Jake choked. Aaron was much too close, filling his vision, blotting out the light.

Aaron grinned, showed his nicotine stained teeth. And, faster than Jake could react, Aaron snatched up Jake’s wrist and bent his arm back. Jake cried out as his shoulder was pulled harshly, trying to twist away, but Aaron just followed the movement, using it to steer Jake over to the table and pushing him down. Jake scrambled, gasping in fear and pain, as he was bent over the tabletop, one arm behind his back and the other pinned beneath his chest. Jake could feel his own pressing against his arm.

“Dad!” Milo’s desperately scared voice, that sound of the chair against the floor again.

“I said stay in your seat!” Aaron barked, the first time he’d raised his voice, cracking it against the walls of the kitchen. Jake heard Milo thump back into the chair, the squeak of felt pads on shiny tile.

“Now Jake,” Fingers fisted in Jake’s blond hair, yanked hair head back at a painfully sharp angle to expose the curve of his neck and making Jake let out a small, choked cry. Aaron forced Jake to look at Milo sitting petrified in his seat, making their eyes meet, their terror an echo chamber between them. Then Aaron shoved Jake’s face back into the table, grinding it against the polished wood for a moment before releasing his hair, “We’re going to have a nice little chat. And your kid is going to sit there and watch while we go on a nice little stroll down memory lane. And I can remind you about what a piece of utter shit you are.”

“Aaron, p-please…” Jake whimpered, “Milo…h-he doesn’t need to see…”

“Oh, I think he does,” Aaron hissed back, “Someone’s got to show him how the world works and you’re too much of a pussy to do it. So let’s start with the basics. Family,” Aaron said matter-of-factly, “Will always ruin your life. Because people are selfish and stupid and older brothers are the worst! Right Jake?”

Jake knew better than to answer.

But he still made a frightened little noise when a pair of scissors flashed in front of his face. He felt the blades snag on the shoulder of his button up, the snip-click of them slicing into the fabric making him shudder. Aaron cut the sleeve off and then wrenched Jake’s arm out straight, making Jake wince, gritting his teeth. The side of scissors ghost over old and faded scars, raising goosebumps as they went, until their sharp tip pressed against some of the ropey tissue that had never healed quite right in the crook of Jake’s elbow.

“It was right here, I think,” Aaron said in a sickly sweet voice, leaning over Jake and crushing him against the table, “You didn’t want to share that stupid CD player. So I had to teach you a lesson in manners. It was a knife, right? I wasn’t very good with that at first. Wasn’t good about not leaving marks…”

Jake watched the horror dawning on Milo’s face, wished with all his damaged hear that Milo had never seen this part of his life, would have given anything to be alone in the house when Aaron had found him. Now Milo was going to have what innocence he had left shattered while Aaron inevitably did the same with Jake’s fragile sanity.

“A-Aaron, just—just let him…he doesn’t need to be h-here…” Jake tried to plead again, only to choke when Aaron pressed a hand down hard on the back of Jake’s neck.

“He’s staying, Jake,” His brother snarled, “And if either of you scream or try to call for help, first I’ll break your legs. And then I’ll show your fucking mouth shut.”

Milo’s mouth opened—to protest or curse or spew whatever teenage rebellion was still on fire inside him. Jake caught his eye and silently pleaded for him to stay silent, to just go along with it, please Milo, please don’t do anything. Milo searched Jake’s face, then shut his mouth, chewing on his lower lip as he eased back into the chair. Jake swallowed the sigh of relief that wanted to escape him, felt his neck flex against Aaron’s hand, and prayed that whatever happened, it would only leave Jake with more scars and Milo unblemished.

He was jarred from his prayers when he was dragged backwards off the table and thrown into a nearby dining chair. Jake looked up in time to see Aaron uncoiling a faded rope from the pile of tools on the table. He caught Jake’s frightened stare and sneered, snapping it taunt and making Jake flinch.

“Here’s the deal, Jacob,” Aaron growled, walking over to Milo who shrank away from him, “We’re going to play for a while, and your kid’s going to watch so he can learn exactly what kind of dumb, disobedient, horrible, lying person you are. Then I’m going to pack up my stuff and leave and you’re not going to tell anyone what happened because you know you deserve it.”

Aaron approached Milo with the rope and Milo kicked out at him instinctively. But Aaron just sidestepped it and swung the bundle of rope hard against Milo’s face, knocking him to the side. Milo was too dazed to struggle as Aaron wrapped the rope tight around Milo’s chest and the back of the chair, pinning the teenager’s arms to his sides. His movement were deft and practiced, an efficiency created from repeated use of the skill. The rope pinned Milo’s ankles to the legs of the chair and made a complicated series of loops beneath and behind. Milo flinched as the rope draped against his neck and rubbed against his bare skin, tugging against his windpipe as Aaron tied it off behind him. He stepped back to admire his handiwork, grinning nastily when Milo turned fearful but angry eyes on him,

“Haha, look at that. Still a rebellious little shit, huh? Yyeeaahhh, Jakey used to fight back too until I figured out this knot. See, the real beauty of this thing is, the more you struggle, the tighter it pulls. So, if you move around and try to wriggle free then…” Aaron reached around behind Milo and jerked on one of the lines woven into the binding. The rope around Milo’s throat instantly tightened, pressing hard into his neck and cutting his air supply down to the barest wheeze of breath. Milo’s eyes bulged and Aaron laughed as the teenager bucked in instinctual panic. Of course, it was just as Aaron had said—the more Milo struggled, the tighter the noose became.

“Aaron, stop it! You’re here for me! Let him go! Just stop!” Jake was out of his chair, shoving brother out of the way as he fumbled with the knots constructing Milo’s bonds. His fingers slipped off of them, confused by Aaron’s complicated work, and he turned his attention instead to the teenager gagging helplessly in the chair. He cupped Milo’s face in his shaking hands, hushing him, voice hitching as he tried to help,

“Milo, you need to stop struggling. I—I know it’s hard but you need to just—Milo, listen, please listen to me, okay, you need to sit still and don’t move.” He brushed the pads of his thumbs across freckled cheeks, wiping away hot tears, smiling thinly as Milo’s breathing came back under control and his struggling ceased, “That’s it, okay, just—just deep breaths, all right, little shark. It’ll be okay. Just don’t move anymore, okay? Milo? N-no matter what you see, no matter wh-what happens, don’t move. I’ll be fine, I promise, just don’t—“

Aaron yanked Jake away by a fistful of his hair, throwing him to the floor with a growl, “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Jake. Get back in your fucking chair.”

Jake scrambled across the floor, barely dodging the kick Aaron had aimed at him as he crawled onto he kitchen chair. Aaron followed after him, sneering, pulling a roll of extension cord off the table and knocking several other tools to the floor as he did so. Jake couldn’t stop the whimper that slipped out of him as he pressed himself against the back of the chair, desperate to get away but too worried about what would happen to Milo if he ran. His chest rose and fell with sharp, panicked breaths that scraped his dry throat, his heart was beginning to ache as it thudded harder and faster than it had in a long time. His head spun with an ice cold terror he hadn’t experience since he was a child.

Aaron towered over him, the grin on his face nasty and eager, “Sshhhh, big brother, deep breaths. Wouldn’t want you passing out just yet. We haven’t even gotten started…”

The extension cord wrapped around Jake like an old friend, pinching his skin in familiar places and alarmingly tight across his chest. Aaron heaved on the cord, yanking Jake’s legs off the floor by his ankles and forcing him to bend his knees so that his heels were almost touching the seat of the chair. It made his thighs shake, muscles spasming uncomfortably tight as Aaron finished his work. It seemed he’d learned some new tricks over the years. Jake shivered to think who he might have used as a practice dummy.

“Let’s have a conversation,” Aaron said in the same tone of voice one might have used to discuss the weather. He crossed back to the table and sorted through the objects until he found what he was looking for. When he turned back to face Jake, he was holding an old, wooden baseball bat, tiny and child sized, scraped and scratched from years of use.

“Do you wanna know,” Aaron spun the little bat in one hand as he approached, his grin twisted with rage, “What the house was like after you left? Do you know what happened you weren’t around anymore? Do you know how angry mom was?”

Jake cringed back in the chair, pure terror written in every shaking line of his body, “Aaron, n-no, I didn’t mean—I didn’t think she would—you were—she wouldn’t—“

“But she did!” The bat arced through the air and smashed into the side of Jake’s face, jerking his head violently to the side and smashing the inside of his cheek against his teeth. Iron welled into his mouth and he swallowed it back with a grimace. Aaron brought the baseball bat around again and cracked it into Jake’s head, splitting open the skin of his temple. Blood bubbled from the head wound and slid freely down his already swelling cheek as he blinked dazedly, trying to refocus. Aaron didn’t let him; he swung again and struck Jake hard in the stomach, knocking the wind out of his brother. Jake doubled over with a wet wheeze, drool and blood smearing across his lap from his gasping mouth as he struggled for breath. But Aaron brought another heavy blow down on Jake’s shoulder with a loud, crunching pop. Jake thrashed in the chair, a strangled, gasping scream of pain rattling up his throat, eyes wide and face pale. His shoulder was lumpy and awkward, numb and throbbing and awful—probably dislocated.

“Mom was so pissed when you left,” Aaron snarled, looming over his brother as Jake choked on a sob, breath gasping as he fought for breath, tried to sort through the pain chewing him up from the inside out, “She was so angry. I’d never seen her so mad. And then you didn’t even have the decency to leave us a number? An address!? So fucking disrespectful, Jacob!” Aaron swung again, hit Jake hard in the stomach with the bat. Jake wretched and coughed, spitting up an acrid mixture of stomach acid, blood, and coffee. Aaron dropped the baseball bat with a sneer of disgust, backing away as Jake choked and gagged,

“Pathetic. She raised us. Put a roof over our heads. Gave us food and clothes. And you spat on that. Ran away and didn’t even tell your little brother where you were going!”

Jake looked up, tears and blood and bile still oozing down his face, dropping with the sweat from his chin, staining his shirt and jeans. His breathing was labored and he trembled violently. But his eyes were hard and resolute.

He would not be broken.

That only seemed to stoke the fires of Aaron’s temper.

He spun away to untangle another tool from his collection, shoving things around as he tried to find what he wanted.

Chest heaving, blood and sick and sweat and tears smeared across his front, Jake looked up through hazy eyes and met Milo’s gaze.

The kid was mortified.

Milo’s eyes were wide, bloodshot whites surrounding watery irises. His face was so pale it made his freckles stand out like bullet wounds, his body shaking against the rope binding him to the chair. His throat was already scraped red from the noose dangling threateningly around it. Milo had never witnessed brutality like this before, not outside of television where he was fully aware of how fake it was. Jake wanted to apologize, but his voice was gone, lost under years of conditioned silence because he knew a single word from him would only make things worse.

Aaron turning towards him again made Jake look away. It killed him to do it but the longer he kept Aaron’s attention, the safer Milo would be.

“So scrawny,” Aaron muttered through gritted teeth, wearing something that was akin to a grimace of triumph, “Bet you’re not eating right, huh big brother? You never did. I should be a better sibling…should help you with that.” Jake shook his head and Aaron’s eyes narrowed, “Open your mouth.”

Jake’s throat clicked as he swallowed dryly, clenching his jaw when he caught sight of the plastic tubing and funnel rigged together in Aaron’s hands. The funnel was attached at one end of the tube and the other end was patched awkwardly into some kind of series of straps. Jake could guess what it was for and it was enough to make his stomach turn.

“Open. Your. Mouth.” Aaron’s voice was a stinging lance that made Jake flinch. But, trembling and avoiding his brother’s eye, Jake’s lips parted and he slowly opened his mouth.

Not fast enough for Aaron.

A fist coiled into Jake’s hair, yanking his head back and baring his throat. Jake let out a cry of surprise and pain that was quickly muffled by the foul plastic tubing being wedged into his jaw, pressing against his tongue and shoved almost to the back of his mouth, making him gag. He shook his head, trying to dislodge it, trying to pull away. Aaron snarled and swore, fighting back and shoving Jake against the chair to connect the straps holding the tube in place. Jake let out a muffled scream into the tube, glaring at Aaron as he brother stepped back, pushing greasy black hair from his face with a satisfied smirk.

“Like it? I made it myself,” Aaron patted the side of Jake’s face and Jake cringed away, “Now let’s see what I can feed my poor, starving brother…” Aaron shuffled away to start pulling open cabinets and drawers, inspecting the food in the kitchen, humming and muttering to himself.

Jake struggled, trying to free his uninjured arm, wriggling it against the extension cord even when it pinched and rubbed his skin raw. He glanced up at Milo, trying to apologize, trying to reassure, trying to be there for Milo even though nothing good would ever come of this. Milo was sniffling and crying, trying to keep it in, trying to be strong when he shouldn’t have to be. Jake ached to think of the scars this would leave.

He’d never wanted to be the reason for Milo to cry.

“Oooohh, this’ll work!” Aaron stepped back from the fridge, kicking the door closed with a gleeful little chuckle. He held a jug of milk and a couple of cans of Milo’s favorite energy drinks, all of which he dumped on the table while he scrounged around for something to mix them all in. Jake whimpered and Aaron laughed, dropping a bowl and a container of chicken stock beside the milk and drinks, “Don’t worry, Jakey, let your little brother take care of dinner for you!”

Aaron whistled as he poured both energy drinks into the bowl and then mixed in the milk and chicken stock. The concoction smelled atrocious and looked worse; a pale, hazy snot green that looked slightly greasy. Jake shook his head frantically as Aaron approached with the bowl, trying to dislodge the tube from his mouth, thrashing with all his might against the restraints. Behind Aaron, he could see Milo’s chest heaving, eyes wide and horrified, helpless.

“Bottom’s up, Jake!” Aaron sing-songed. He picked up the funnel and slowly started tipping his horrid mixture in, watching it sluice down the tube into Jake’s mouth.

The second it touched his tongue, Jake wretched, dry heaving and trying to spit it up. But Aaron just kept pouring it and he either had to choke or swallow it down. It felt slick in his throat, burning and disgusting, sitting in his stomach like a lead weight, the aftertaste as caustic as the stuff itself. Another horrible laugh came from Aaron as he dropped the empty bowl and wrenched the straps from Jake’s head, jerking him forward, strings of saliva clinging to the tube as it fell out of Jake’s mouth. Jake coughed, gagged, coughed again, eyes watering, stomach churning, wishing desperately he could throw up. But, god, if he did, Aaron might try to feed him something worse.

“And for dessert…” He heard Aaron say from the end of a long tunnel. He raised his head, watching through blurry eyes as his younger brother picked up a knife from the pile on the table. Aaron slid it from its sheath, inspected it in the light, and grinned at Jake.

Jake just stared at him, wheezing with every shallow inhale, sagging in his bonds.

Aaron scoffed, “Yeah, you’re right…I don’t think I’ve tenderized the meat enough.” He put the knife back into its sheath and grabbed a thick metal pipe instead, rusted and slightly bent out of shape but still dangerous enough to do its job. He hefted it in his hand as he approached Jake.

“STOP IT!”

The voice was like a lance that made the room freeze.

Jake held absolutely still, heart pounding painfully hard in his chest, palms sweating, praying he had only imagined the shout.

“Stop it!” Milo repeated to Aaron’s hunched back and Jake wished he wouldn’t, “Stop hurting my dad! He never did anything to you! So stop it!”

Ice settled in Jake’s chest as Aaron turned to face the teenager. Jake frantically shook his head behind Aaron’s back, trying to tell Milo to just be quiet, to just let this happen because it was inevitable, it had to happen, it was his place in the universe to let it happen. Jake would always run, Aaron would always find him, and Jake would always be punished for being the bad son. No one else needed to be involved, no one else needed to be hurt. If Milo would just stay quiet then things would go back to normal, they would be okay. Jake would eventually walk off the bruises and cuts and the memories would fade into nightmares and be forgotten for what they really were and Milo wouldn’t have anything to worry about. Jake didn’t care how many scars he had to carry if it meant that Milo would never have to experience any at all.

“I told you to BE! QUIET!” Aaron stomped across the room, rearing back with the pipe as he neared Milo.

Milo jerked back, forgetting his predicament and tightening the noose on his own neck. He gagged, his cries choked by the rope cutting off his air supply, feet scrabbling to try and back away from the man approaching him. Jake’s fear escalated to a point where it felt like his heart was tearing itself into pieces. And he would let it, he would gladly let his heart explode if it meant Milo would be spared.

Years of conditioning wrenched his mind in twenty different direction, his eyes burning and his throat closing as he struggled to speak. If he said something he could get Aaron’s attention away from Milo. But if he spoke, then Aaron would make things worse, he always made things worse if Jake said anything, even if it was just a wordless cry of pain, Aaron wouldn’t stand for it. Jake swallowed hard, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to force his voice out despite the way it made his mouth taste like ash and made his tongue feel heavy with fear.

But before he could make a sound, someone else spoke up.

“Milo? Were you eating dinner? I tried texting but y—“

Cody stood frozen in the threshold to the kitchen, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open as he processed what he was seeing.

For a long minute, there was silence as everyone stared at each other.

Then Jake pushed the words out past the vice in his chest, “CODY! RUN!!”

Cody bolted and Aaron launched himself after the teenager with a scream of rage.

He took a swipe with the pipe and managed to bash it into the side of Cody’s legs, tangling them and sending them both crashing to the floor. Aaron grabbed onto Cody’s ankle and tried to pull him closer but Cody kicked out with his free leg, the heel of his sneaker smashing into Aaron’s face with a crunch of snapping cartilage. Aaron howled in a combination of rage and pain, letting go of Cody in order to clutch at his face. Cody backed away, fumbling his phone out of his pocket, his fingers shaking on the touch screen as he dialed for help.

“H-hello! Th-there’s a man—he tied up my friend—he—he’s trying to hurt me—!”

The sound that came out of Aaron’s mouth was one of inhuman fury. His face was smeared in blood from his broken nose, madness glowing in his eyes as he heaved himself off the floor. A red handprint plastered over the white kitchen tile, the pipe scraping like a furious banshee as he dragged it up beside him. Cody screamed, bolting in the other direction, running around to put the table between himself and Aaron.

Jake was trying to wriggle free of his restraints again, pulling and pressing his good arm as much as he could, ignoring the way the extension cord bit into his sides and made his legs ache. He managed to wrestle his hand free and he twisted, frantically feeling for where he knew the knot was and picking at it, fingers bruised and numb and sore as he tried to undo the rubber cord.

Cody was playing chicken around the dining room table with Aaron. Dodging one way when Aaron went the other. Aaron was getting furious, banging his pipe on the table whenever Cody tried to snag a weapon of his own or got too close. Milo was shouting, shaking in his chair, desperate to wriggle free but knowing what moving would cost him. It was a stalemate; Cody couldn’t get past Aaron but Aaron couldn’t pin Cody, nor could Aaron get Milo to shut up without taking his attention off of Cody.

What Aaron had forgotten, it seemed, was that Jake was very used to escaping from Aaron. He knew all of Aaron’s little tricks.

The knot in the extension cord came loose and then, free. Jake rattled back and forth in the chair, wrenching his dislocated arm, kicking numb legs that didn’t want to cooperate, clawing his way out of the clinging cord. He saw Aaron glance back at him and then do a double take when he realized Jake was freeing himself. He screamed in rage and threw himself at Jake instead, swinging wildly with the pipe. Jake screamed, throwing himself backwards and tipping the entire chair over so he slammed into the floor. The pipe connected with his shin in a savage blow that shattered inside him, drawing out another scream of pain. But his other foot swung up and kicked Aaron’s hand, knocking the pipe free and sending it clattering across the floor.

Aaron was blinded by rage, launching himself at Jake with his bare hands. Jake skittered out of the chair and out of the way just in time, gasping as Aaron went head over heels over the seat of the chair and crashed into the cabinets.

“GET MILO OUT!” Jake shouted to Cody, trying to scramble to his feet, trying to reach for something on the table, anything to give him an advantage against Aaron, “GO! JUST GO! I’LL—“

His voice cut off as hands closed tight around his throat, thumbs pressing into his windpipe, fingers digging into the back of his neck. A heavy body pinned him to the floor, the back of his head knocking against the tile, spine grinding into the grout.

“You’ll what, Jake,” Aaron hissed, spitting blood and rage as he leered over his brother, strangling him with all his strength, ignoring Jake’s weak kicks and flailing hand, “Fight me? Me? You can’t stop me! You never could! You couldn’t stop me when we were kids! You couldn’t stop mom from hurting us! Instead you ran away! You ran away and there was no one to stop her from hurting me! This is your fault! This is all your fucking fault!”

“GET THE FUCK OFF OF MY DAD!”

A whirlwind of red and blue collided with Aaron, knocking him over, and Jake gasped as air rushed back into his straining lungs. He tried to yell at Milo, tried to tell him to run, but he could only cough, clutching at his chest, trying to breathe. The pain beneath his ribs was an inferno of burning acid, flaring in stuttering bursts, his limbs weak and shaky and refusing to obey him.

He heard Aaron scream in rage and pain and then the distinct thud of a fist hitting flesh.

Cody’s voice shouting, “Leave him alone!” And then another collision, more shouting and scrambling.

Distantly, Jake thought he heard the front door opening.

Or maybe he was just hoping that someone was coming to save them.

Shaking and wheezing, eyes fuzzing in and out of focus, chest flaring with agony that drowned everything else out, Jake heaved himself onto his side. He could barely make out the blurry, writhing shape that was Cody and Milo wrestling with Aaron.

Two teenage boys could not fight a full grown man.

“S-sto—stop—“ Jake tried to call to them but his throat didn’t work right and it hurt to breathe.

Someone screamed in pain. It did not sound like Aaron.

Anger and a fierce protectiveness flared to life in Jake, momentarily surging over the pain and exhaustion trying to drag him down. He hauled himself to his feet, lurching over to where Aaron was trying to pin down Cody, Milo on Aaron’s back, pulling at that greasy hair and trying to beat him with fists that seemed too tiny and ineffective. Fury like Jake hadn’t felt since his younger days had him drawing back his leg and kicking Aaron square in the ribs.

Aaron dropped back from Cody with a grunt, spilling Milo from his shoulders, and before he could recover, Jake kicked him again. Then he fell atop Aaron and beat his fist into his younger bother as hard as he could. Someone was shouting, screaming a hoarse voice to stay away from his family. There was red, hot and sticky on Jake’s fist, scratches on his arms.

Someone was pulling at him, dragging him off of Aaron, jostling his broken leg and making him cry out.

He didn’t know where Cody and Milo were.

There were strangers in the house.

Voices were overwhelming him.

His chest was on fire and his lungs weren’t working.

Jake fell unconscious.

———

He woke up in a hospital.

Because of course he did.

Everything ached, a dull throb through his entire body, an even wave of dull pain washing over him with everything shallow breath he took. Jake decided it wasn’t worth the energy to try and stay awake, and so he passed out again.

———

He woke up.

The room was dark. The steady beat of the heart monitor a familiar drone in the background. Someone’s soft breathing came from his bedside.

He was safe.

He fell asleep.

———

He woke up.

Someone’s hand was on his, big and warm and a little calloused.

It took a hundred years for Jake to turn his head and a hundred more for his tired eyes to focus.

Dan was slumped in a chair next to the hospital bed, looking pale and exhausted, his hand lightly resting over Jake’s. He looked like he’d been sitting there for decades.

Jake tried to say something but all that came out was a little gasp of air.

Dan’s head jerked up and their eyes met. Jake tried to smile but his face felt sore. Tears welled up in Dan’s eyes and he clutched at Jake’s hand with both of his, turning towards the door to shout something that was too muffled and far away for Jake to focus on.

He fell asleep.

———

He woke up.

The scent of flowers, a little dry, very faint against the chemicals of the hospital.

No hand on his this time.

The scratch of a pen on paper.

Jake pried his eyes open enough to look around.

A nurse was copying down the information from the monitors hooked to him. She glanced at him and jumped when she saw he was awake.

Suddenly there were doctors and nurses everywhere, shining lights in his eyes, asking him questions he struggled to answer with a tongue made a sandpaper and a throat as dry as the desert.

At some point, it was just too much.

He fell asleep.

———

He woke up.

Something warm was pressed against his side.

It didn’t take as long for him to move this time, though his head still felt like a bowling ball packed with concrete while he did it.

A familiar mop of messy red hair and a soft hoodie.

Milo had tucked himself under Jake’s arm and was curled against him, asleep with his head on Jake’s chest, one hand lightly fisted in Jake’s hospital gown and his brow scrunched up in his sleep. Jake watched him dazedly for a moment and then, very slowly, moved a hand to brush it through Milo’s hair, gently and softly petting his head. The crease between Milo’s eyebrows eased, smoothed out, and he seemed to relax a little, snuggling closer to Jake’s side. Jake winced a little at the pressure, but smiled thinly at the warmth.

At least he knew Milo was okay.

Milo was safe.

Milo was alive.

Jake fell asleep.

———

He woke up far more coherent than he had been before.

When Jake looked around, he saw the slightly wilted flowers in the vase on his bedside table surrounded by a handful of get well soon cards and a well loved shark plush watching over him. With a tremendous effort, he reached out and slid the shark plushie off the table and onto the bed, dragging it closer so he could pet its soft fur.

It was one of Milo’s favorites.

The door opened.

Jake barely had time to register that it was Dan who had come in before Dan was across the room, cupping Jake’s face in his hands and crying.

“You idiot!” Dan babbled, holding Jake like fragile china but still holding him as close as he dared, “You’re so stupid, Jake! You could have died! You idiot! Stupid!”

Jake weakly patted Dan, murmuring quiet reassurances no louder than a whisper, tears on his own face that he didn’t bother hiding. Dan was warm, comforting, strong, familiar. Dan was family. He smoothed Jake’s hair back, sniffing and checking him over, muttering about how happy he was that Jake was okay, that Jake was alive.

“Wh’ happen’d…?” Jake managed to ask. His throat still felt raw and his chest was sore, but it was a fair sight better than it had been.

Dan mellowed at the question, easing down into a chair and holding onto Jake’s hand. Jake’s other hand was still awkwardly stroking the soft shark plush.

“Dom…Dom said he heard police sirens,” Dan said quietly, staring at Jake’s thin and pale fingers against his own broad, dark ones, “Came out to see what was happening. He saw the cars at the other end of the street, coming towards him. Then he heard screaming from inside the house. So he came running in and—“ Dan swallowed hard, squeezing Jake’s hand, “And you were punching Aaron in the face, screaming at him not to touch the kids. You were really beat up, Jake. But it took Dom and three other police officers to pull you off of Aaron. And the second they did, you passed out and threw up. In…in that order…”

Jake grimaced; he could only imagine what that must have looked like, “A-are the kids…?”

“Milo and Cody are both okay,” Dan assured him with a sad smile that said there would probably be plenty of therapy bills in their future, “No permanent damage, just a lot of bruising. Milo wouldn’t stop talking about how cool you looked…”

Jake chuckled, coughed a little, and sagged back against the bed with a tired sigh. He stared at the ceiling for a long time before whispering,

“And Aaron?”

Silence. Jake turned his head enough to look at Dan. There was an expression on Dan’s face like he wasn’t sure about the contents of a questionable container of food found at the back of a fridge. Jake frowned.

“Dan…what h-happened to Aaron?”

“Um…” Dan cupped Jake’s hand in both of his, looked like he was working up the courage to say something, “They, um. They think he—it looks like he had some kind of—of psychotic break. He—your mom is…gone. Then he came looking for you. He’s committed now. I don’t think he’s ever going to…get out…” His look was one of sympathy and pity and apologies he didn’t owe, “Jake, I…I’m really sorry…”

Jake turned away to look at the ceiling again and tried to figure out how he felt.

Aaron had killed their mother.

Aaron was probably going to kill him.

Aaron might have tried to kill Milo.

It felt like too much to deal with all at once. Jake closed his eyes and let out a heavy, wheezing sigh,

“When can I go home?”

He felt Dan’s smile rather than saw it, “Not for a few days yet, buddy. Want me to see if Milo can come by? You’ve been asleep every time he’s visited. Bet he’d like to see you.”

Jake thought about the little spitfire of energy that was Milo, the wide smile, the eager spark. The terror in his eyes. The rope biting into his neck. The righteous anger in his voice.

“Yeah,” He said, looking at the little shark beneath his hand, “I want to tell him thank you.”

#micoverse #my bloody art

5 notes · View notes

matth1w · 5 years ago

Note

Can I ask for a Lucifer Morningstar fic where the reader to pregnant, hasn’t told Lucifer yet and panics starting to lie to him and avoid him. They resolve it when he does some of his own detective work and he decides he wants you to know he likes the child. Bonus points of stuff like ‘well now I’ve trapped you and you’re mine...’ (like playfully) Thanks.

Detective Morningstar

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

Summary: You’re pregnant with Lucifer’s baby. Great, right? Wrong. You know how much he doesn’t like children. So being a responsible adult, you… lie and avoid him. Lucifer does some detective work and finds out, because of course he would.

Warnings: Unplanned pregnancy, angst, language, talk of period, talk of yeast infections (just wait)

Rating: Everyone

Word Count: 2,709 words

Note: Lots of internal dialogue in this one, with lotsa cursing. Indicated by italics. Also, part of what took so long - my first attempt at this was much less happy and required me to get into a certain mindset. The rewrite is much happier and lighter. And pregnancy fics just take more effort from me.

Note to Requestor: Thank you for requesting and your patience, nonnie! I hope you enjoy! 💕

Tags: @kittenlittle24

It was about four in the morning and you were thankful for your natural inability to hold your bladder through the night. Lucifer didn’t seem disturbed by your getting out.

Heavy sleeper and used to it, I guess.

You slowly closed the bathroom door with a soft click and opened the cabinet just as slow. Thankful you had fixed that squeaky hinge.

Your eyes fell on the bright box in front of you and you grabbed it with trepidation - hoping your period would start and wake you from this nightmare. You opened the box quietly, swearing internally at the foil wrapping.

Why did they make these things so loud??

It wasn’t necessary. All it did was make it perfectly clear to anyone within a mile’s radius that you were taking a pregnancy test.

You paused after finally pulling it out - so on edge and nervous of making any sound Lucifer would overhear.

Nothing came from the bedroom so you got down to business.

Yuck, of course you got a little on your fingers.

Okay. All done. Now just five minutes.

God it felt like an hour.

Any bleeding?

Nope.

You checked. Still had hope even if it was a week late. You had been practically begging for your period.

You made empty promises to never complain about your period again.

You checked your phone for the hundredth time in the five minutes.

Finally.

You didn’t even pause before looking at the test.

Shit.

Hold up, it could be a -

Nope. Definitely a +

+ means pregnant right??

Shit shit shit.

Wait.

Could be a false positive. Those happen all the time.

Yeah, sure, your brain aka reasonable Y/N thought.

You looked into the cabinet to get another one, a different brand.

As much as you were freaking out, you realized that wasn’t the best idea. You’d wait until tomorrow.

I’m sure I’ll get my period by then and it’ll be some weird false positive...

Yeah.

You pushed the feeling in your gut down. It could be wrong.

It had to be.

1 day and 1 more positive test later...

You sat on the couch, Netflix running but not earning your attention.

You were too busy thinking at break-neck speed.

... Well he came around to liking Trixie. Becoming like an uncle to her. Now when he called her monkey it was affectionate.

And he loved and was even affectionate to baby Charlie.

So maybe he wouldn’t be mad. Or upset? Or idk disappointed?

Oh God, that would be the worst.

Wait, God!

Hey! Dad in law! Can you help out here? Take little bugger out?

I mean you helped Mary so just like say the spell backwards.

Yikes.

Let’s hope He wasn’t listening. Pretty sure that sent you straight to Hell ten times over.

Speaking of Hell, this was his fault! He’s the one with the freaking sperm!

But.... you’re the one whose body betrayed you. Apparently your uterus had too many months of preparing for a baby just for it to get torn down.

Maybe it was a fake. False positive. People get those all the time.

Across two different brands?

Ugh, shut up, reasonable Y/N.

3 days and 3 more positive tests later...

Maze you whisper-yelled through your teeth and shook your hand to get her to come over once she looked up from her spot on the barstool.

“I’m fucked.”

“Why?”

Maze asked with a suspicious look.

“I’m... fucked”, you cursed.

“You can’t tell anyone. Especially you know who.”

Maze smiled and nodded, curiosity piqued. She loved secrets.

You sighed, the omnipresent string of curses running through your head before you spoke again, taking a deep breath and spilling it all out.

“I’m like 99.999 percent sure I’m pregnant.”

You sucked in air, having to breath after saying that all so hurried also because FUCK, you just said it out loud.

Your best friend/practical sister just started at you, chewing on your lip.

She shifted on her feet.

“Are you...” she was trying to gauge you and the situation. “Happy?”

You made faces as you tried to think.

Were you?

Petrified. Anxious. Happy? Okay a little. If you weren’t worried about Lucifer’s reaction maybe you would be.

You mean, it was kinda cool you were like making life.

“Uhhhh...”

Maze nodded slowly at that. Understanding nearly perfectly well what was going on.

“I see. And you’re worried about Lucifer?”

You nodded, scared of even saying his name.

“What if he doesn’t like me like that?”, you sighed, wanting to cry.

She just stared at you, but it was no use as you had dropped your head in your hands. She waited until you lifted your head back up before speaking.

“You’re literally married.”

Oh. Right.

“Yeah but...”

She flicked you in the forehead.

“Stop being an idiot, YN.”

“What are my two favorite ladies gossiping about?”

You jumped out of your skin. Neither of you had noticed your husband/ father of your child until he stood just a foot away.

Shit shit shit.

Say something!

You looked to Maze but she was giving you nothing.

Fuck. Okay uh...

“Uh... VAGINAL ITCHING!”

Lucifer stopped himself from putting his hand on your shoulder. His face was a hilarious mixture of confusion and strange acceptance.

No one said anything so you had to go again.

“Um... yeah. Maze,” you gulped at the daggers coming from her eyes.

“I mean, I.... uh, I think I got a yeast infection.”

Lucifer nodded furrowing his eyebrows. He just turned on his feet and walked away.

Once he was out of reach, Maze snorted.

“You’re a mess! Vaginal itching??”

You buried your head in your hands once more and groaned.

— — —

When you went to bed that night Lucifer was already there.

“What have you been up to darling?”

Reading articles about how to tell your husband you’re pregnant.

“Um. Uh.... Reorganizing the closet.”

You smiled and laughed a little too loud as you realized how utterly stupid that was considering he was in the bedroom. With full view of the closet.

You blushed and tried to laugh it off.

“Sorry, babe. I’m super tired. I’ve been out of it.”

He chuckled. “That yeast infection?”, he mused.

You nodded over enthusiastically. “Yeah the uh, yeast infection.... Itchy itch!”

You cringed.

Itchy itch? Who says that??

Lucifer pursed his lips, trying so hard not to laugh at you.

“Yes, itchy itch indeed. Let me know if you need me to run to the store and get you something for that. I was planning on going out tomorrow.”

You gulped. Fear and paranoia coursing through your veins.

He nudged your shoulder.

“CVS has those chocolates you like on sale so I thought I’d pick some up.”

You sighed. A little too eagerly. Then tried to cover it up.

You couldn’t trust your words so you smiled and leaned in to kiss Lucifer.

He held your lips for an extra moment and pulled away slowly.

“I love you, Y/N” he said. Certainty and firmness evident through his tone and eyes that held yours.

You closed your eyes.

“I love you too, my angel”

— — —

You stopped as you stepped out of Lux, taking a moment to appreciate the warm LA sun hitting your skin. You closed your eyes and held your head high.

Today was going to be a good day.

Someone cleared their throat next to you and you frowned.

Or not.

Opening your eyes you saw you sister in law, Remiel.

Ah, fuck.

“Remy!” you exclaimed, trying to be excited. Like you didn’t know what was going on or why she was here.

She looked at you unamused.

“Y/N. I thought you said you used protection.”

Your face fell and you slumped. Embarrassed as Remy brought up your old conversation.

When she came down to try to take Charlie to Heaven she made a comment about expecting Lucifer to be the one to create a nymphlim.

And you of course said that you two used protection and she wouldn’t have to worry about that.

Which wasn’t a lie, you had been! You just... kinda stopped.

You laughed awkwardly.

“Yeah…” You swallowed.

“Since you’re here... am I actually…?” your throat tightened. You couldn’t say it.

In an instant your sister in law eyes softened.

“Yes,”

You nodded, looking away as you bit your lip, trying to hold back the tears from spilling onto your cheeks.

Remy came closer to you and put her hand on your shoulder.

“Hey,” she began, her voice soft and almost unfamiliar from what you knew of the hunter.

You looked up at Remy and tried to smile.

“I guess,” you sniffled. “I kept thinking it wasn’t real. That all the tests were somehow wrong.”

You shuddered out a shaky laugh, meeting her eyes quickly.

“But I guess if you’re here and you can tell...”

Remy grunted in agreement. “I can smell it clearly.”

You chuckled and looked back at her, not surprised to see her serious face. But that left after a moment to a sly smirk.

You sighed and decided to go in for a hug. After a quick flinch, Remy brought her arms loosely around you.

“You’re not mad?” You sniffled against her shoulder.

She laughed under you as she pulled away, holding you at arms length.

“No. I learned my lesson with Amenadiel. I wanted to offer my help. The child of Lucifer will be highly sought out.”

You blanched. “Sought out? Like...”

She nodded seriously. Her mood instantly changing.

“Yes, Y/N. Many will try to get ahold of your child for their own benefit.”

You just nodded back, unable to handle the situation and desperately wanting to not think about it.

Remy seemed to notice your fatigue and tried to smile again.

“But there’s no need to worry about that now!”

You smiled back, trying to relax as well.

“Well... since you’re here...”

“Remy!”

Lucifer shouted from behind you.

Your husband walked up to you both and pulled his sister in for a tight hug.

“So lovely for you to stop down. What are you doing here?”

Remy went to say - the truth. So you spoke up first. Almost drowning her out.

“I invited her for pedicures!”

“Ooh pedicures?” Lucifer turned to you with excitement.

“Yeah. Uh, Girl family bonding. Like just girls! ... Sorry uh no boys allowed.”

Luci chuckled as Remy just looked on.

“Sounds lovely.” Luci couldn’t even try to hide the love in his heart seeing his wife and sister together.

You stepped in to give him a quick peck on the cheek then back to Remy and wrapped your arm in hers.

“Bye Luci!”

There was a glimmer in his eyes as he pulled out the corvette keys from his pocket and handed them to you.

“Have fun, darling”.

You smiled up at your husband, appreciative of the act.

He gave Remy one last look before he walked back inside.

It was quiet for almost a minute before Remy broke the silence.

“You haven’t told him yet?”

You sighed and hung your shoulders.

“I’ve been meaning to but I just... I’m so scared.”

“Of what?”

You looked at her. She really did want to help.

“Hey uh, if you’re not busy. A pedicure would be nice.”

She smiled. It truly was a nice sight.

“Sure.”

— — —

After you got home and said your goodbyes to your sister in law you hummed happily, trying to not be nervous.

Thankfully Lucifer wasn’t home so you relaxed in front of the tv with a snack.

When the elevator door dinged, you jumped up as Lucifer was quite cheery.

“What’s got you all smiley, Mr. Morningstar?”

He chuckled. “Well, Mrs. Morningstar, not only did they have your chocolates on sale. I also got a coupon!”

You giggled at him. Lucifer Morningstar. The Devil himself. Clipping coupons with such eagerness like a domestic housewife.

He walked over to you and held up the bags. You gawked.

“Luci, how much chocolate did you get??”

He gave you a sly smile.

“Oh I noticed we were running low on some items so I got them as well”

He held your eyes and in that moment you knew you were caught. But you tried to play dumb.

“What stuff?”

He tilted his head at you.

“You know, darling. Pregnancy tests. You’ve gone through quite a lot these past few days.”

You felt the color drain from your face.

“Luci...”

He held up his hand and walked over to sit beside you.

“Y/N. Whatever the reason, I want you to know you don’t need to lie anymore.”

You had to look away at the intensity of his look.

“I’m the Devil. Sensing truth and lies is my thing.”

He put two fingers under your chin to make you meet his eyes.

“And even if I wasn’t. You’re a bloody awful liar. Pedicures?”

He gave you a crooked cheeky smile and you couldn’t help the groan that escaped you.

“I know. But Luci...”

He wasn’t moving to speak so you took a breath and continued.

“I thought you would be upset. I mean, other than Trixie and Charlie, you don’t really like kids. And having a kid, it would tie us together forever. And I know we’re married but it’s different? And I just...”

Your voice trailed off when you looked back up at Lucifer and saw him shaking his head.

“Y/N, my darling wife. We were tied together forever the moment I first saw you. And a child? To be honest, seeing my brother with Charlie it sparked something in me.

“And when I saw you and Remy standing together today - I hoped she was here for the same reason you had taken almost every kind of pregnancy test. And didn’t use any tampons. And didn’t eat any of your period ice cream.”

You felt the blush grow on your cheeks and bumped your head into his shoulder - trying to desperately hide your embarrassment.

“You used your detective skills on me, Morningstar?”

He laughed wholeheartedly as he wrapped his arms around you.

“You aren’t that challenging of a case, love.”

You let yourself laugh.

It shouldn’t surprise you.

Wait.

He said hoped.

Hoped.

“Luci...” you stilled under him, “You said you hoped?”

“Yes,” he said simply.

“Really?”, you said softly, so surprised by his words.

He nodded then leaned in to kiss you, saying all he needed to say with the passion and love pouring from his lips to yours.

When he pulled away you took a breath, feeling like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Staring into the eyes of your husband, you knew his words to be true.

“You want this? A baby? Our baby?”

He smiled, lighting up at your words.

“Yes.” He shook you slightly.

“I want all the babies you’re willing to give me. Because it’s you, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help it.

Yep, time for the waterworks.

“Oh, Luci” you sobbed as you dove to hug him.

He held you tightly as he soothed your pain.

“It’s alright, love. Everything’s alright now.”

After a few minutes of crying and comfort, you sniffled and wiped your eyes. Unable to form words that could convey how you felt, you just looked at your husband, smiling softly, eyes glistening and showing relief, gratitude, and love.

He brought you back into his arms and hummed softly.

— — —

Later that night, when your limbs were intertwined between the sheets, the emotional toll of the day mixed with sleep to loosen your tongue.

“Luci... you don’t feel tied down to me??” Your voice was quiet - scared and hopeful.

“Darling.” Lucifer chuckled before he saw the seriousness on your face.

“We’re married.” He said as he stroked your cheek down to your shoulder.

“But a baby.” You nuzzled into him. “It I don’t know... it kinda ties you to someone forever.” The wetness of your eyes coming back again for what felt like the millionth time that day.

Lucifer shifted, pulling you closer to him and lifting your head so your eyes would meet his.

“Being tied to you for the rest of my life isn’t a prison, my darling - it’s a gift.”

968 notes · View notes

bts-ficrecs · 4 years ago

Text

Namjoon angst fic recs (no smut)

@ephyra16 asked:

Hey...! Your blog is of so much help to me, thank you for all the hard work you do... I wanted to ask if you know any long Namjoon oneshots or series which mostly have angst but no smut...? Namjoon centered fics are really hard to find. Thanks!!

yes hello for some reason tumblr hates me and idk why everything gets wonky when i try to answer asks so i’m making a new post <3

1) as a jin stan i feel u. is hard to find fics for our mans but that just means when we find one we devour it and cherish it 4 ever lol

2) jsdflajsd you might have more luck asking someone else for straight up angst cause i can barely stomach angst LOL. I tried my best to find some heart breaky fics for you! :”) A majority of these I have not yet read so we will both be riding the emo train together.

As you requested, most of the oneshots are long fics, over 5k but! There are several honorable mentions under 5k are also listed cause they’re great

Thank you for your patience and I’m glad you’re enjoying the fics I reblog! :D so many great stories out there. as always, if there’s a fic that any of you readers think should be on this list lmk!! 🧡🧡 Enjoy!~

A Little Bit Of Sugar by @lthyl

Summary: Namjoon is well aware that some, well actually most people could find his hobby not exactly common, yet he still considers himself to be a man of tasteful words and higher intellect - someone who managed to understand the true, deepest meaning of beauty itself. And so he doesn’t really care if his methods of collecting pretty things end up being darker that expected, once you peek under the surface.

Almost Love by @joonary

Summary: You think you’ve got your life all figured out—after all, you found your soulmate already, and you’re lucky enough to have found him in your childhood best friend. You suppose that maybe, now that you’re older, your luck has begun to run out.

Better To Have Loved by @rkivenamu

Summary: Love, Namjoon had found, wormed its way though people, consumed them whole until it left nothing of the people they had once been. It became a weapon to be used to wound the other. Love, it seemed, was the worst thing that had ever happened to him.

Bloom by @hobidreams

Summary: Family is who you kill for. Who you die for. In this society, you and your kin are shadows, clinging to the darkness to obey orders absolute. But when such orders command you to abandon what little honor remains for wealth and notoriety, you find yourself lost in lonely uncertainty about the only vocation you’ve ever known. That is, until you meet a man with gentle hands, a poet’s heart, and a love for coaxing the world into bloom.

Note: okay, this has smut (there are 2 smut scenes) but… it is too good for me to not add to this list

Breathless by @personawife

Summary: Jungkook was eleven when it had begun. At first, he didn’t realize what was happening to him when he had miraculously coughed up a flower petal. He thought that maybe it had accidentally blown into his mouth with the wind, but then he realized that there were no cherry blossom trees around his house.

Pairing: Namjoon x Jungkook

Catching Fire by @namjoonchronicles

Summary: “If you didn’t want to go, then you should have told me. I wouldn’t have taken you here.”

Cut by @chimchimsauce (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon always hated soulmates.

Chasing Perfection by @shuaffeine-rkive

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the only kid in AP Bio that is smarter than me, and I will make it a point to destroy his perfect record.

Emancipated by @imagniation

Summary: CEO!Namjoon is a hero time and time again when your father takes the villain role.

Five Times by @lordofassgard

Summary: Five times you wished you never met Namjoon.

Sequel (of sorts): Part 2 - Namjoon's POV

For All the Petals by @rosaetae (>5k)

Summary: A story in which you met him in the spring, fell in love with him in the summer, but he left you in autumn and how you missed him in the winter.

Forget Me Not by @fairyjeons

Summary: She fell apart that day. An all white day with crowds of adoring friends and family to see them make the most happiest decisions of their lives, to choose to be together. She chose yes. He chose different.

Ghost In The Machine by @jimlingss

Summary: Kim Namjoon is your android that’s modified to become the best serial killer in all of existence. But when he starts to learn about humanity, he begins to threaten your goals.

God of Destruction by @jimlingss

Summary: Everything he touches breaks; except for you.

Jealous by @btssmutgalore (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon remembered the day you left clearly.

Lit Me Up by @floralseokjin

Summary: You find yourself becoming captivated by a mysterious, handsome author, but you may have bitten off more than you can chew…

No Goodbye by @floralseokjin (>5k)

Summary: Even if you’re the one who ended things, you can still feel pain. Your heartbreak is valid. Your sadness for the past is a grieving process…

Noble Gain and Loss by @jaeminlore (>5k)

Summary: You are a person of nobility preparing with your tutor for your royal debut. The two of you fall into a forbidden love.

Not The One by @personawife (>5k)

Summary: Maybe you should’ve realized early on then, that something was bound to go wrong. Meeting your soulmate at sixteen and living happily ever after? No one’s that lucky. But you refused to believe anything else.

Paracosm by @jimlingss (>5k)

Summary: Namjoon’s always known he was your second choice. He was a substitute for someone who wasn’t there. So when you’re on your deathbed, he intends to reconstruct your memories and remove your regrets.

Press Play by @out-of-jams

Summary: You didn’t mean to. Didn’t intend to fall in love with a dying man.

Submerged by @myfeelsinink

Summary: Kim Namjoon is the man of your dreams; or rather, from your dreams.

Suspended Soul by @justimajin

Summary: A silver ring, a live long promise, and an eternity of happiness. All of which, he had managed to break.

The what Ifs by @ellieljade (>5k)

Summary: You would be able to handle the relationship between Namjoon and your best friend if it weren’t for all those damned “what ifs”

Wishf-oo-l by @sseudanym (>5k)

Summary: To fulfill a good man’s bad dream.

Worshipers of the Soul by @jimlingss

Summary: The King of the Underworld was denounced and exiled from Heaven as a god. But with your help, he may rise to power once more and claim his rightful throne.

You’ve Got That by @mikrksmos

Summary: After making a life-changing decision for your career, you’re unsure of how exactly to bring it up to your boyfriend after your relationship and communication has not really been in sync. Namjoon is ready to take this relationship to the next stage, and he is sure that what he needs to ask you will be the solution to all the problems you have been having. Both know this next move is the right idea, but are unaware of how parallel those ideas really are.

Confirm Or Deny by @dinoyoongi

Status: complete series (6/6)

Summary: You’re a member of the rising group FRNZEE. You’ve been dating Namjoon for years when Dispatch releases an article exposing your relationship. Your company confirms the relationship. Big Hit denies it.

Deeper than Ink by @whoajeon

Status: discontinued series (2/?)

Summary: Should you fall in love with someone, even in the slightest, your skin becomes marked with vibrant colors that depict the story of your emotions. A tattoo, per say. However, should they or you fall out of love, the bright hues dull to black and the feelings you once had for each other melt away. To many, it’s a blessing to not have to live with the pain of your past. But what’s the point when you have too many reminders–say 27?

His Deaf Stars by @jooneos

Status: discontinued series (1/?)

Summary: When Namjoon turned 20 he had been excited to finally find his soulmate. He hadn’t anticipated that finding them would prove to be such a long journey. Now, more than 500 years later Namjoon still hadn’t found them.

Note: ok, yes it’s discontinued and only 1 part is up but still… please read it. It’s an interesting read regardless!

Inked by @kookswife

Status: complete series (6/6)

Summary: The day Namjoon entered your life was the day you were a bit more than utterly fucked.

Monster by @wordycerty

Status: ongoing series (1/?)

Summary: Namjoon as a vampire and you’re locked in a basement with him. For you to escape, he first needs to feed.

Noble Heart by @agustkive

Status: ongoing series (1/?)

Summary: Unrequited love can destroy anyone, and in a society where it could literally do so, it made it difficult to want anything more. Being among the population with Hanahaki disease, you battled with doing what you loved without actually feeling it. That is, until a new florist by the name of Kim Namjoon came into your life to remind you of what it actually felt like.

Reality by @thoughtssilent

Status: ongoing series (11/12)

Summary: Namjoon can’t deal with himself anymore, and to make things worse, BTS is disbanding.

Pairing: Namjoon x OT7

Regrets by @nightbts

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: When his eyes met yours, you felt your heart squeeze in your chest at the familiar brown eyes that you once used to know at the back of your hand. The very ones you’d wake up to every morning. The very ones that would gaze at you with so much affection as the words I love you spilled past his mouth during the most random moments of your day. It was him, your ex-boyfriend, the very Kim Namjoon.

Solanacea by @softjeon

Status: complete series (10/10)

Summary: There was something between them that neither could deny. It was like this from the first day they had met.

Pairing: Namjoon x Jimin

The Heiress’ Son by @jimlingss

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: Love is never enough. It could never feed you, protect you, stop death from taking you. It chains you down. It compels forgiveness unconditionally. It is dangerous. While it is the most intense of feelings, love is not enough and it will never be. Love never helped anyone.

What If I Said by @thoughtssilent

Status: complete series (3/3)

Summary: If no one is there for him, Namjoon won't be there for them. Or, a collection of sad stories.

Pairing: Namjoon x OT7

#namjoon angst #namjoon fanfic #bts fic recs #rm angst #bts angst #ephyra16 #g recs #g replies #f:knj

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thewitchandtheassassin · 5 years ago

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Let’s Help Each Other (Wanda Maximoff x Reader)

Prompt: AU where the twins and the Avengers are on opposite sides. The Avengers track them down and run into them in their hometown, taking care of and entertaining the children there, Pietro by playing with them and Wanda by telling a story (idk who else but it’s a Wanda x ___… either Nat or Fem!reader works for me). Based on the song Soldier, Poet, King by the Oh, Hellos because I found it and it’s So Cute™

Words: 1918

Warnings: None?

A/N: Should I do a part 2?

-X-

“Wanda and Pietro Maximoff,” Steve introduced, pressing a button on the remote, bringing the screen to life and presenting pictures of the twins.

You tilted your head as you studied the photos that flashed across the screen. They were flickering, showing protests and showcasing the two Maximoffs screaming in the Sokovian crowds before the final picture appeared, leaving you stunned – and a bit in awe.

The woman, Wanda, was floating slightly in the air, an eerie red glow around her. It wasn’t menacing and she clearly was doing no harm; in fact, it actually looked like she was playing with the children surrounding her in the photo, warming your heart a little. You didn’t know why but it brought a smile to your face. You couldn’t understand why the others looked so serious.

“What’s wrong with them?” you inquired, brows furrowed thoughtfully. “They don’t seem like they’re doing any harm.”

Steve pursed his lips. “They’re former HYDRA experiments turned thieves. They’ve been stealing from major pharmaceuticals and other companies around Europe. Wanda uses her powers to manipulate the minds of the guards and the employees while her brother uses his speed to steal whatever they came for. They’re becoming real threats because no one knows what they’re using it all for. So, we’ve been called in to deal with them.”

Everyone nodded, yourself included, but this didn’t sit right in the pit of your stomach. Something felt off about this. They never hurt anyone in the buildings and only left with a handful of things. Why were they considered threatening enough that the Avengers were being called in?

You lingered in the room after everyone was gone staring at the photos in the dossier before you. Most of them were of Wanda with an occasional shot of her brother – though he was mostly a blur. Wanda, with her soft brunette locks and hauntingly green eyes.

Browsing through the folder, you pursed your lips.

You had a feeling this wasn’t going to go well. It was quite possible that this had less to do with them being “evil” or “criminals” and more to do with who they were stealing from. They clearly weren’t doing these things in the name of HYDRA or any other organizations, so what were their motives?

“Hey, you coming?” Natasha asked, peeking around the corner of the door.

Startled, you slammed the folder closed though a picture skirted out of the side. “Yeah, just give me a second.”

“Well, c’mon. Tony is getting impatient – and an impatient Tony is an annoying Tony,” the former assassin huffed, earning an uneasy smile from you.

“Tell Stark to get his panties out of a twist. I’ll be right there,” you replied, sparing the picture one final glance. Her eyes connected with yours and you exhaled deeply.

Yeah, you weren’t going to enjoy this.

-X-

The moment the quinjet touched down outside of Sokovia, everyone – except Bruce – filed out of the aircraft and started for the town. You were up front with Steve, your knives sheathed at your hips as you cautiously wandered into the heart of Sokovia. Tony was above you surveying the scene, hoping to catch sight of the twins, which wasn’t hard considering they weren’t hiding.

“They’re at the…orphanage?” Tony informed you, though it sounded like a question, as though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

The hand that had been hovering over your knife fell away and you straightened up. “They’re at the orphanage? Are you sure?”

“Would you like a picture, (Y/N)?” Tony sneered, peering down at you.

Rolling your eyes, you separated from the group and hurried toward the orphanage, leaving behind the other Avengers. You could hear Steve chiding you but you didn’t care. You wanted to see this before your teammates intervened.

Coming upon the rundown building, you slowed. You could see a blur of a human playing ball with multiple children, keeping up as each child threw balls at it. It was an amazing sight and you assumed the blur was Pietro, considering he was possibly the only person in the town capable of such a feat.

He must have noticed you, however, because the blur became whole in a split second.

He stared at you, eyes narrowed and lips twisted into a snarl. He crossed his arms, daring you to do something.

“What do you want?” Pietro demanded.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Steve saddling up beside you kept the words from escaping. In a flash, Pietro was gone, leaving you standing outside with a handful of terribly confused children while the doors of the orphanage swung violently, the only indication he’d ever been there.

“What do we do, Cap?” Sam asked, dropping to the ground beside Steve.

“We have to be careful,” you said, cutting off Steve, “These are innocent kids. If the Maximoffs don’t attack, we shouldn’t either.”

“We have to bring them in,” Tony said resolutely.

“Why? Because the Government told us they’re a threat?” you snorted, shaking your head. “They could say we all are but the truth is, we don’t know what the hell is going on. The files didn’t tell us what they stole, only that they stole it and that no one knows what they’re doing with it. Maybe we should try asking questions before we accidentally destroy a city,” you suggested snidely.

“I agree with (Y/N),” Natasha seconded before Tony could retort, “We don’t want to start trouble.”

Steve gazed upon the building for a moment before nodding. “Agreed. (Y/N), take point. I’m trusting your judgment on this.” He looked up at Tony, then at Sam. “Stay outside and make sure they don’t try and run.”

Chewing your lip, you strolled towards the orphanage’s doors and gently opened them. Herds of children were scattered about, each one eyeing you suspiciously as you stepped inside before disappearing into various rooms. The most popular room seemed to be the one at the top of the stairs and your curiosity piqued.

You wandered upstairs and cracked the door, peering inside. In the center of the room sat a gaggle of children, their backs to you as they stared wide-eyed at the beautiful woman sitting on a chair in front of them. You couldn’t blame them from being so enraptured (you were too).

Her voice was soft and sweet as she read to them, eyes alight with joy when they laughed or exclaimed something in their native language. Her smile was so enchanting and if it wasn’t for her brother clearing his throat from the corner of the room, you probably would have stood there forever.

Your eyes snapped over to him, meeting his icy blue glare.

Wanda closed the book and said something to the children, earning disappointed groans. They all stood and filed out of the room, pushing past you with glares on their little faces. One boy said something under his breath at you and Pietro laughed riotously. Your cheeks went red despite not knowing what he said and you stepped into the room, standing before the enhanced twins.

Natasha and Steve lingered at the door, preparing for the worst should things go south.

“Wanda Maximoff, I presume,” you said casually, refusing to tremble under her rigid glare.

Wanda stood, eyes glowing red as she took you in. Your mind began to swim a little and grow hazy as she probed your brain but you remained firm, meeting her gaze head on. Red slowly crept into your line of sight, taking over everything else. It was starting to freak you out but before you could do anything, it dissolved, leaving behind nothing but a tiny headache and a sense of unease.

“And you are (Y/N) (Y/L/N), an Avenger,” she replied, tilting her head.

“I am,” you answered, glancing over your shoulder at your bewildered teammates.

“Why are you here?” she wondered, inching closer to you despite her brother’s warning growl.

You shrugged. “I think we both know why we’re here,” you said knowingly.

“You’ve come for us,” she said without hesitation, crossing her arms as she studied you. “Because of HYDRA.”

Shaking your head, you copied her stance. “No, we’re here because you’ve been stealing from major companies around Europe. You do realize that’s a crime, right?”

Wanda’s gaze narrowed. “We only take what we need, never anything more.”

“What’s so important about the things you take?” you inquired, intrigued by such a reply.

The room was silent for a moment before Wanda’s defensive posture slackened a bit. “Sokovia is not a rich country. We need things. Things they have and refuse to give us. Our people are suffering – dying – and no one cares. They cannot do anything about it, but we can. So we did.”

You froze. Everything was starting to make sense. “Oh.”

“We do not wish to hurt anyone,” she continued, “We only want to help our people.”

“You do realize it’s still a crime, though,” Steve commented as he stepped into the room. You could practically see the walls fall upon Wanda’s face and you silently cursed the hero.

“What else were we to do?” she demanded.

“I…” Steve trailed off, unable to answer what should be a simple question.

You gripped Steve’s shoulder, taking over the conversation once more. “We understand why you’ve done what you’ve done but that doesn’t make it right. You can’t just go around stealing things, even if it is for a good reason.” Wanda bristled angrily, but you carried on. “However, I think we can help each other.”

“How?” She warily watched you, her heart fluttering a little at the sight of your patient smile.

“The Avengers care about all of Earth. We don’t want to see anyone suffering. So, you come with us – maybe join the Avengers, even – and together we can help Sokovia and anyone else who needs it. You’ve both got amazing powers that we could benefit from and we’ve got resources that your people could really use right now,” you replied, offering your hand to Wanda.

“And if we say no?” Pietro butted in.

Your smile turned apologetic. “Then we keep hunting you. SHIELD isn’t going to stop until they know you aren’t a threat anymore. At least if you do it this way, you keep your freedoms and you can still help your people.”

“This feels like blackmail,” Wanda smirked, accepting your hand. She shook it firmly, eyes boring into yours. “Do you promise that you will do your best to help Sokovia?”

Nodding, you returned the gesture. “I do. I don’t want to see anything happen to Sokovia, especially if it’s preventable.”

Wanda relaxed. She heard the sincerity in your voice and saw the honesty in your eyes. You truly wanted to help; she only hoped the other Avengers were half as nice as you.

Dropping Wanda’s hand, you stepped back and nudged Steve towards the door. “You can take a few minutes to say goodbye to the kids. We’ll be outside waiting.”

You could hear Tony yelling in your ear but you ignored him. This was the safest thing to do in your opinion and it meant you’d be gaining two new Avengers whose powers would be very useful while avoiding a fight that could potentially level a city. It was a win/win, honestly. He just needed to see that and move on.

“You’d better hope Fury accepts what you’ve offered them,” Natasha murmured as you slipped past her and into the hall.

Smiling, you patted her arm. “He will.”

#wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #reader insert #scarlet witch x reader #wanda imagine #wanda #reader #reader imagine #scarlet witch imagine #MCU fic #mcu imagine #Avengers #avengers imagine

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #362

(this is actually from yesterday but i never posted it and now i don’t feel like updating the answers, so yeah)

Have you ever been cheated on? No. Who’s car were you last in? My mom's. Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? It's been pierced multiple times, but each time the hole closed after my piercings had to be taken out at the psych hospital. The final time though, it closed because the damn stud fell out in my sleep for the billionth time, I couldn't find it, and I let it close out of annoyance. Have your parents ever smoked pot? My dad has. Do you tend to make relationships complicated? I mean, I don't think so. I hope not. Are you good at giving directions? NO. Like, I can't. I would accidentally lead you to the middle of the ocean. Would your mom care if she found condoms in your room? She'd be confused as fuck because I live with her so she knows for sure I'm not seeing anyone. Did you speak to your father today? No. Did you kiss someone before you were sixteen? No, it was actually a month after turning 16. Could you go a day without eating? Nooo. I've said before and I'll say it again, I don't deal with abdominal pain well, so yeah. Are your nails always painted? They never are. Have you ever met any bands/band members before? No. What color is your hair? Boring 'ole brown. .-. Your best friend needed somewhere to stay, could they live with you? She absolutely could. I know Mom would welcome her without hesitation. Have you danced in the rain? No. When you said something naughty when you were little, did your parents wash out your tongue with soap? No, but it was threatened. What do you think of spanking little children when they do something wrong? Okay or not? No, it is absolutely not okay. You do not teach children through fear, ever, nor do you show children that it is ever okay to hit people when you're upset. Who was the last male you hung out with? Uhhh, I think Girt? I haven't truly hung out with a guy in a long time. Who is your favorite person to text? Sara. Who did you last take a picture with? My sister. What’s your favorite brand of jeans? I don't have one. Which show is better: Spongebob or The Fairly Odd Parents? The latter. Both can be funny, but Cosmo cracks me up. Has anyone ever told you that you looked like someone else? I actually think the only time I was ever compared to someone else (make-believe, at that) was when I dressed up for Halloween one year and a friend told me I looked like Eileen Galvin from Silent Hill 4: The Room. Do you enjoy the sound of crickets at night and birds in the morning? Yesssss. Who is the most overrated singer? Idk, I don't even know who's "in" right now. What is your favourite planet? Saturn. Do you have any pets that you had since you were born? No. Do you own anything that you had when you were a baby? Yes, stored away. Do you enjoy Mario games? Mario Kart is fun, but otherwise I'm not a massive fan. What’s your favorite online game? World of Warcraft. Have you ever been hit with a ball in gym class? I think so. I was always terrified of the days we got to play dodgeball or whatever, like that shit hurts. Do you ever turn your cell phone off? No. Who was last to cook for you? My ma. Do you check your texts right away when you receive them? Usually. Who is your most trusted person? My mom, probably. How late did you stay up last night? God, I don't even know. Last night was my sleep study, and I was so uncomfortable in that bed that I slept maybe only an hour or two. Hell, or less. I also couldn't sleep on my stomach, which really didn't help because that's always how I sleep. I'm exhausted now and have such a headache. When/where are you most likely to sing? In the car, I guess. I very rarely sing anywhere. Would you ever wish to explore a cave? FUCK YES. You see the person you fell hardest for. What do you do? Panic like a motherfucker internally, avoid eye contact, and try to evade him (not like he'd actually pursue me) without being too obvious. Have you been/are you depressed? Both. Are your pop-ups blocked on your computer? Yes. Have you ever ridden in a car with someone who was high? Yes, because I was afraid to tell her I didn't want. Thank fuck we got home safe. I was absolutely, positively terrified we'd be pulled over. Who is the best hugger you know? Ha, actually the person I just mentioned. Have you ever had to be put to sleep for an operation? Yes. Does anybody have any proof of stupid things you have done? Oh, Facebook comments... Why did you text the last person in your inbox? I was replying to my mom. Have you ever been able to do a split? No. Did you ever date the last person you kissed? Yes. Are you intimidated by the last person you know talked badly about you? She doesn't "intimidate" me, no. She just gets on my last goddamn nerve every time she opens her mouth. Have you ever cried in school? Yes. Last person of the opposite sex you screamed at? I've never screamed at a guy because I'm afraid of them. I've sobbed at Jason, so like my voice was raised, but it definitely wasn't screaming. Do you have any weird sleep habits? Well, speaking of screaming, my nightmares have me shrieking in the middle of most nights. I also talk in my sleep like, a lot. Do you consider yourself an emotional person? Very. When was the last time you had a headache? This morning, I'm sure because of how shitty I slept. When was the last time you encountered a puppy? Prepare for a rant... We have one right now, even though our landlord told us specifically no puppies because of all the housetraining they require. My mom has been wanting a dog, and Tobey finally agreed to it, and she's been looking for a while. So my sister Ashley randomly shows up with a stray puppy a friend was keeping, terrified and LOADED with ticks, and she's reminding Mom and I why we DON'T WANT A PUPPY. She's peeing everywhere BUT outside (specifically on a stupid fucking expensive carpet that Tobey will have a cow over just ONE stain), is terrorizing my cat, and has an overwhelming amount of energy. Ashley specifically told me that if Mom doesn't let Ash know, I needed to tell her if the puppy was stressing Mom out, "because this isn't supposed to be a stressful experience for her." Well, she's been sobbing again and again and I literally just came back mid-question from comforting her because she broke down so hard she could barely breathe because now she had diarrhea on the fucking carpet. Ashley's all bitchy now about it for no apparent or even remotely valid reason, and by God do I want to cuss her the fuck out over this bull she brought on. Safe to say we're not keeping the dog, but not quickly enough. When Mom hurts, I hurt, and I am so goddamn furious. Is there anything that happened a long time ago that you still laugh about? Yeah, a number of things. Do you ever try to interpret your dreams? No, given I don't believe most have any meaning. It's brain word vomit, lol. What was the last thing you bought impulsively? I don't have the income for impulse purchases. When I get money, what I'm after is well-planned. How do you feel about singing songs out loud in front of other people? I don't, usually. I'm very self-conscious about it. When was the last time you were feeling really, really nervous? That nervous, I'm unsure. I've been nervous, sure, but I haven't had a massive anxiety episode in a while. If you’re no longer in school, what is something you miss about it? If you’re still in school, what’s something you think you’re going to miss about it? I miss feeling productive and like I was going at least somewhere. Do you use your turn signals when you’re driving? Yes; I hate when people don't. How exactly are you feeling right now? Mad at my sister. Have you ever had to board up your windows because of a hurricane? No. Do you tell anyone to chew with their mouths closed? No, to avoid "confrontation" that is too negligible to even quality as conflict. I'm just a lil bitch when it comes to stuff like this. Have you ever ordered pizza and sent it to someone else’s house? No. What was the first thing you drank when you woke up this morning? My nurse or whatever her position is (I don't mean that dismissively, I genuinely don't know her title) brought me some orange juice. Do you think stretch marks from having a baby are ugly or badges of honor? Oh my god, fuck off. Anyone who can carry a child for nine months and then endure what I assume is the worst pain (usually) survivable has every ounce of my goddamn respect. The natural result of making room for a like 6+ lb. human being is not "ugly." It's a part of life and to me shows an incredible amount of bravery and love to be willing to go through something I could absolutely never. Ever done a keg stand? Haha, no. My dizzy ass will pass. Who is the last person you lent money to? My mom. Do you share clothing with anyone? Mom and I will share bras or pants sometimes. Have you ever visited anyone in a rehab? No. Was the last thing you drank a Coke or Pepsi product? No, I have lemonade right now. Honestly, do you think that you’re going to be an overprotective parent? IF I wanted to be a parent, I feel like I definitely would be. Not like... overbearing, but still extremely protective in cases I think it's called for. What was the last kind of chips you ate? Veggie chips yesterday, actually. They're honestly not that good, but it's a doable snack with salsa. What is one thing that you really wish you could understand, but don’t? Economics. I dread taking care of my own money because idk what the fuck to do with taxes and such. What is the last thing you charged? My phone. Have you ever held a snake? I've held plenty of snakes, I love them.

#survey #surveys #questions

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neurodivergent-loverboy · 5 years ago

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A while ago I said "Barry Bluejeans autistic" and then never followed up but I'm going to now!!

- This isn't exclusive to autism but it is a common comorbidity and I think we can all agree that Barry has anxiety right? Like Griffin just straight-up said that he's always nervous (with a small measure of hyperbole, but still)

- Anyway despite having a lot of anxiety and general social awkwardness I think he's definitely an extrovert! It's just that for him being around other people doesn't necessarily mean being the center of attention or the life of the party. I think he's a lot more comfortable with small groups that he knows very well (so basically the Starblaster fam)

- When people first meet Barry they think he's shy because he's quiet bordering on silent, but when he gets to know someone? He's very talkative. Catch him infodumping about magiscience for an hour

- Ooh about talking? His spooky scary lich speeches were definitely pre-scripted, which is why they flow so well. Usually in the moment he's a lot more rambly. I could see him really taking comfort in the idea of putting on a role to deal with the strange, upsetting situation he found himself in

- ALSO about talking (and again, this isn't just an autism thing but it's definitely common) @umbraastaff writes Barry with a stammer and I fell in love with that concept immediately, so. That's part of this headcanon web now too

- I could see him having a hard time verbalizing emotions?? Idk why it just makes sense to me. He tries to talk about how he's feeling and the words won't happen, or they don't make much sense. His family members usually get it though cause they've had lots of practice interpreting his stumbling explanations

- You know what, tbh I think his trouble with identifying emotions is at the point of alexithymia

- His volume control is Shit!! Occasionally he'll get loud without realizing it when he's excited/upset but more often, he's too quiet and has to be reminded to speak up. It's not an expression of sadness, it's just hard for him to intentionally project (it's also partially a sensory thing, he feels like he's shouting when he speaks at a normal volume)

- The exception to the above, of course, is when he's Acting Like A Lich because you always have to project in theatre and you know exactly how loud you need to be, generally speaking

- Oh btw Barry Bluejeans? Hyperlexic. He learned to read when he was like three but no one knew for a while because he wouldn't talk until he was four, at which point he started just speaking in full sentences unprompted

- He also speaks a lot of languages and I think that was one of his earlier special interests, before he got super into magiscience

- Why Does He Wear Bluejeans All the Time? onlookers wonder. I Just Think They're Neat, Barry responds elusively, which really means "tight pants are the worst sensory-wise, so baggy jeans became the default - also wearing the same kind of clothes every day is a very comforting routine"

- He likes swimming in a cold lake on a hot day because the intense temperature change feels good and stimmy!! He also chews ice because nice and cold and crunchy

- When it gets to be fall he stomps on all of the crunchy leaves they sound and feel so nice ! But he hates squishy noises a lot, crunch is where it's at

- He spins/paces in circles and also clicks his tongue a lot when he's thinking (He also does the thinking out loud thing, because what the fuck is a consistent internal monologue? Tbh his voice-recording coin was helpful to Future Barry but also to Present Barry who's trying to process thoughts and tasks and such)

- One of his calm-down stims for things that are mildly upsetting is snapping his fingers next to his ears. When he's very upset by something snapping doesn't quite cut it so he slowly shakes his head/rocks instead

- He likes to be upside down (he probably also likes fantasy roller coasters a lot)! It just feels good! Just the right amount of disorienting!

- While he can get tossed around like a sack of potatoes and not be the slightest bit nauseated, a single bite of food that's the wrong texture has him gagging

- He eats mostly crunchy food because fuck slimy and mushy food, and he also tends to eat very bland food because he's quite sensitive to flavor

- When he's nervous he bites his nails, chews on his fingers, and/or cracks his knuckles a lot

- Shbsjsbjdndjd this is kind of dark but what if... ajabsibsisbdidbdif what if he made the Animus Bell a bell because he has a thing for bells, he likes to collect them and ring them because it's stimmy. Not after Wonderland!! Sorry Bluejeans, ruined that one for you lmao

- Can we get some more happy stims up in here? Yes? Sticking with the vestibular stimming, I think when he's happy or excited he likes to spin fast!! Or he'll shake his head back and forth really fast!

- When he's really comfortable with someone and knows he doesn't have to worry about social expectations around them, he does happy squeaks !!!!

Aaaaaaah this got so long I just love talking about characters being ND skbsksks

#barry bluejeans #taz #taz balance #the adventure zone #please take these *shoves my autistic headcanons at everyone who passes*

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unfortunatelysirius · 5 years ago

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The Runaway Bride // Robb Stark [Part I of II]

「 ❁ 」PROMPT 「 ❁ 」

Y/N is the niece of Roose Bolton, and when he requests to arrange a marriage between her and his bastard son Ramsay, she does the only thing she knows how. She runs.

「 ❁ 」AUTHOR’S NOTE 「 ❁ 」

This idea was stuck in my head so here I am writing it idk. I HOPE IT’S NOT TERRIBLE???? Tell if you all would like more Game of Thrones imagines! :)

「 ❁ 」WARNINGS 「 ❁ 」 Angst, violence, swearing

「 ❁ 」WORD COUNT 「 ❁ 」 3900+

IT WAS LIKE ANY OTHER DAY AT THE DREADFORT.

Y/N Bolton had been readying for a bath, the water boiling as she carefully undressed, when there came a knock at the door. It was frantic, like the person behind the door was in a hurry. Y/N buttoned up the front of her dress once more, skirts rustling beneath her bare feet as she shuffled to greet the visitor.

She unlatched the door, pulling it open just a smidgen. Behind the wood was a young girl—perhaps just a few years younger than Y/N—with skin like paste and eyes bluer than the sea. “Lord Bolton has asked for you in the dining hall, Lady Bolton,” she said.

Y/N nodded, trying—and failing—to hide her distaste. “Thank you,” she said, a polite dismissal. Only when the girl took her leave and the corridor silenced did Y/N think herself safe enough to breathe a sigh.

Her lord uncle had been pestering her for more than a fortnight, asking her to consider his offer. Or so he called it; what it truly felt like was a threat and a demand. She was to marry his bastard son Ramsay, on the first moon after his legitimization. Lord Bolton was unmarried and heirless, an aging man desperate to solidify his claim to the Dreadfort, before another family could usurp it. Y/N’s mother and father had died more than a decade ago, during a time when illness plagued the land. Her father was Lord Bolton’s brother, her mother from a lowborn Northern family. When they were on their deathbeds, their final wish was for Roose to take Y/N in and raise her as his own.

Y/N was raised right alongside Ramsay. They bathed together and played together. It was wrong for her lord uncle to have them wed, when all she had ever known Ramsay as was a cousin. A bastard cousin, but a cousin, nonetheless. Though, Y/N knew Ramsay thought differently.

A sick feeling in her heart, Y/N put on her slippers and took her leave from her sleeping chamber. She walked to the dining hall, where she knew Lord Bolton to be.

Lord Bolton was a formidable man—not near as formidable as any of the Umbers, but still a great danger to anyone who crossed him. He was grey-haired and grey-eyed, with a body both tall and muscled. His eyes bore a certain coolness to them, a void look that promised unspeakable cruelty. He was known for it.

It was what made Y/N the most afraid. The thought that he would hurt her, if she did not grant him his demands.

“Dear niece,” said Lord Bolton, unsmiling, as he caught her entrance. Those cruel grey eyes watched her every move. “Have you thought any more about my offer?”

Offer. It was not an offer. It was a threat. Y/N swallowed thickly, failing to disguise her fear as deliberation. “Yes, uncle,” she said. “When would our wedding day be?”

“I plan to ask that Eddard Stark legitimize him as my heir,” said the man, watching her carefully. “You know Eddard Stark, I assume.”

“Lord Stark,” murmured Y/N. She had met him on a few occasions, but only with her father when she was very, very young. They had never been formally introduced, nor her to his wife and children, not while her uncle kept her confined within the Dreadfort walls. “When would he be legitimized?” How much time do I have left?

“Soon,” Lord Bolton said. It was a simple answer. One that was meant to make her frantic, as she contemplated how many moons she had before her wedding night.

“Soon,” Y/N repeated.

“Preferably before winter,” said Lord Bolton. And it was a cruel, cruel joke, meant to snipe at the Starks and their house words.

His smile was that of a king, of a man condemning someone he cared very little for to a terrible fate. It showed Y/N how alone she was.

In a land where daughters were little more than cattle, Y/N Bolton had to be her own hero, lest she be left in the fall to wither.

It was decided, on the night before her uncle went off to a meeting with the Karstarks, that she would not marry Ramsay Snow. Even if he were legitimized, he was still a sadistic monster, one who continued the banned practice of flaying men alive and found pleasure in methods of torture. He could have defeated his bastard name and made himself a man of honor, but instead he chose a path of destruction—one that Y/N did not want any part of, whether that be watching it unfold or following in his footsteps.

As a child, Y/N dreamed of marriage, of knights and rescues from ivory towers. Her mother and father had a love only found in fairytales, and in the books Y/N was read at night, that same love was found. A love that made men victims of the heart, and women into senseless dolts. Her uncle ridiculed it, and her Dreadfort friends did not believe in it. But into youthhood, Y/N continued to dream of it, wishing she could find what her parents once had. It was only when Y/N had her first moon’s blood, when her uncle began to arrange plans for marriage, when she became aware of the ogling stares, that she felt her hopes diminished.

Y/N L/N was much less naïve. She knew what awaited her into adulthood. Even so, a bastard whose only passion was found in destroying pretty things was not a fate Y/N wanted. He would take great pleasure in breaking her, that much was certain. Y/N, though young and inexperienced, was not stupid. She knew what kind of man he was.

Y/N was going to run away.

A foolish plan. One that could go wrong in so many ways. If she were to be caught, punishment was sure to follow. Y/N was terrified of what consequences awaited her. But the worst fate she could face was a marriage to Ramsey Snow.

That thought was all that kept her from reconsideration.

On a night where her lord uncle was sure to be unconscious and her bastard cousin under the same effects, Y/N gathered her things. Her greatest obstacle came in the form of finances, as she had only a little bit of loose change; a handful of coppers, at the most. It would buy her a night at an inn, and maybe a couple meals to accompany it.

But she wouldn’t last.

She wore her warmest dress, with a fur-lined cloak encapsulating residual heat. In her bag was the barest necessities. A few dresses, with matching slippers. Food she’d stolen from the kitchens. A canteen filled to the brim with water. Her purse of coppers. And a knife. The knife had been taken from Dreadfort’s blacksmith’s shop. Y/N hoped she would have no use for it. However, she knew that the North was full of Ramsay Snows. She would not run far before encountering one.

Y/N snuck down to the stables, where she woke her horse, Axel. He startled, neighing softly, only for Y/N to shush him. She petted down the back of his head like she would the nape of a newborn. To soothe and to comfort. “You’re coming with me, boy,” she whispered.

She saddled him quickly, fingers shaky and mind abundant with worries. She didn’t know where she was going, or what she would do. Maybe this was all for naught, and she would face consequences much sooner than she’d intended. Lord Bolton could have saw through her façade easily, and through her intents even quicker—it was only a matter of waiting and seeing.

Y/N fled the castle through a series of snow-covered paths, ones unseen by the stationed guards. Fallen flakes fell along her cloak, some in her hair—and the crisp air gave her the impression she was in a snowstorm. She knew it was merely an illusion of the ride, caused by the speed in which her horse ran, but that did not change the feeling.

She was out of the Dreadfort before she could counter the thought with another. Only when she made it to a neighboring town did she allow herself to feel relieved.

I made it, she thought foolishly.

Y/N stayed a night in the inn, and broke her fast with her water canteen and a loaf of bread she’d brought from her Dreadfort thievery. It was contenting, to know she was safe and fed for at least until the sun set. Only when she was sat and watching strangers go about dillydallying did she realize; she didn’t know where she was.

“Where am I?” she asked the innkeeper.

“Moleskin,” the innkeeper told her.

Y/N felt stupid. “Where exactly is that?”

The innkeeper’s eyes narrowed. “West of the Dreadfort. Are you lost, kid?”

“No,” said Y/N. She wasn’t a very good liar. When the innkeeper continued his scrutinizing stare, Y/N finally broke. “I want to find the Kingsroad, but I don’t know what direction it would be.”

The innkeeper jumped from his seat behind the counter, and beckoned for Y/N to follow him. She did so reluctantly. They left the inn, going out into the busy atmosphere of Moleskin. The innkeeper grabbed Y/N by the shoulder, then pointed out north of them. They were at the westmost part of town, and the point of the innkeeper’s finger led straight toward the end of town, where open grassland was in sight. “That’s the west. West is where you’ll find the Kingsroad.”

“How long a walk?” asked Y/N.

“Five, six days,” he said.

Y/N chewed her lip. She had enough money, food, and water for a three, maybe four-day trip—but five was cutting it close. Six was not imaginable. “Thank you,” she told the innkeeper. She put the hood of her cloak over her head, gave the man a farewell, got Axel from the stables, and began the final step of her journey.

The first day was easy. The second day was less so, but still simple. On her third day, Y/N begin to feel weary. It was not because of her resources running low, or because she got little sleep from laying on hollow dirt, against the leg of her horse. No, it was because of something much, much worse.

She was walking alongside Axel on a forest path just as the sun was coming up, when she heard sudden voices. One was familiar. Very familiar. Heart ablaze with worry, Y/N hid, hid herself in the shrubbery. She hit Axel in the rear to make him manic and watched as he ran away at breakneck speed, knowing she was silly to think things would ever be easy. She lay herself flat and shut her eyes tight. Foolishly, she sent a prayer up to the Old Gods and the New that she would not be found.

The men grew closer and closer, until she could hear them breathe. The man with the familiar voice was closest, and now that he was in breathing distance, she found why he was so familiar.

It was Ramsay.

“My darling wife-to-be is close,” he said, to his company. Y/N knew by the sounds of their rustling armor and serious voices that it was a scouting group. Bolton men. “She could not have gotten far.”

“How can you tell?” said one of the scouts, in a skeptical voice.

Ramsay laughed. His laugh was repulsive, like a cross between a witch’s cackle and a pig’s snort. “I’ve been tracking her,” he said. “She must have heard us, jumped on her horse and ran. The only tracks are that of her horse now.”

Y/N’s heart stopped. He does not know that I am here, she thought, chest burning with the realization. She could only hope they were foolish, and did not stop to think she might have parted with her horse.

Her hopes were answered.

“She’ll be heading for the Kingsroad. We’ll stop her before she makes it there,” said Ramsay. His voice was fierce, like there was never any doubt that he wouldn’t find her. The group of men went on, their footsteps echoing as they went.

Y/N fell into the mud and wept from relief in their absence.

The Kingsroad was found on the fifth day, when Y/N had run out of food and coppers as well as all her energy. She had but a tiny bit of water left in her canteen, but she would not last as long as necessary without nutrients. There was not a soul in sight as she got onto the Kingsroad.

Until she had stopped to sit and rest. Until she was dozing under the dying sun, and a hand grabbed her by the collar of her cloak. She went up screaming.

“Lookie here, men—a little bird,” crooned the stranger. Y/N’s terrified gaze snapped from the ground, to the trees, to his face, growing more and more scared at the ghastly sight that awaited her. He was scruffy and dirty, oozing with a putrid odor that foretold of many moons without a bath, with a scratch across one eye. He was balding and skinny from malnutrition, teeth more yellow than ivory. Now, those teeth gleamed, tucked inside a smile too wide to be friendly. “What are you doing out here all alone, little bird?”

The man’s hand was unwanted as it touched her, as it went further to grope at unadorned skin. “Get the fuck off me!” screamed Y/N, as it finally became too much. With the pressure on her neck, she could barely think, and all she could assume was that she was alone, weaponless, afraid. “Bastard—fucking bastard—”

“My, my—what words from a lady’s mouth,” he teased her. The fucker teased her. He pulled her up to her knees, where she became conscious of the other men there. One man, two man, three man—four. There were four of them. More than Y/N could fight at once. The man put his hand over Y/N’s mouth, as though afraid she’d try to alert any passersby of her predicament. In response, she bit him. “Ow! The bitch bit me!”

Y/N took the chance to shake from his grip. He had taken away his hand to look at it and to feel where she’d bit him. One of his lackeys yelled, “She’s getting away!”

Y/N originally was planning to take out her knife and kill the man who’d laid a hand on her, but now that he’d mentioned it, she knew this was her only chance. Taking up her skirts, damning the men to Hell, to Hell and back, Y/N tucked tail and ran.

The men shouted and cursed her, all before footsteps sounded from behind. Y/N ignored it, caught in the desperation to slip away. She ran into the nearest path, a forest path, where the open air became trees.

There wasn’t a chance to absorb and admire the scenery. She knew there was green and white, a contrast of snow and trees, and though Y/N was fast and healthy where the man behind her was clumsy-footed and malnourished, that did not change that distraction could have her trip, distraction could get her killed.

The stranger continued to yell insults at her. “Come back here, you little cunt! I’ll cut you right open!”

Oh, how Y/N wished she were at the Dreadfort. At least her uncle and bastard cousin had the human decency not to flay their own family alive.

She was so caught in her thoughts and her desperation to get away that Y/N did not realize her and the man were not the only ones in the forest. She ran right into the chest of another stranger, this one taller, broader, and a lot stronger.

Y/N yelped, and flailed backwards—only for the stranger to catch her and pull her back into his chest. He smelled of woods, of fresh leather and pine. Oh gods, what am I thinking? She quickly ducked under his arm, and hid behind him. She was not fool enough to be at the front, for when the man who’d given her chase came into the vicinity. She would use this man as a shield from the monster who’d tried to take advantage of her.

And he did come. Y/N peaked out from behind her savior, who had twisted his head back to stare at her, and watched with a pounding heart as the man came from around the trees. He was heaving and cursing, in his hands a dagger, one he bore as a token of his rage against Y/N.

“Stupid bitch—” he’d been saying, but whatever threat was going to come from his mouth died when he saw the stranger. Instead, his eyes turned wide, and he dropped into a bow of the head. The knife went behind his back, hidden from sight. “M’lord.”

“Why were you chasing this girl?” said the stranger. He’d turned his head back the moment he’d heard the man’s voice and he sounded angry, of all things, when he spoke. He had a heavenly voice of his own; it was both deep and manly, signifying a maturity Y/N had not heard in a long, long time. “She looks terrified.”

“I’m so sorry, m’lord!” the man rushed to say. “She was—she just—”

“She what?” The stranger was unimpressed. Y/N craned her neck a little to see his face—and gods, that face. He was handsome. That handsome face was cinched into a frown so deep it could leave wrinkles. “What did you plan to do with her, when you caught her?”

“She—stole from me, m’lord.” The man’s face was frantic, as were his eyes and mouth. Nothing sat still in his expression, all moving too fast to count. “Thieves shouldn’t go unpunished. I woulda…” He went quiet.

“Stole what?”

“I…” The man closed his mouth, then lowered his head. He was caught in his own lie.

The stranger took a quick glance at Y/N as she hid behind him, then looked back at the man who’d threatened and chased her. “What’s your name?”

“Er, Erik, m’lord.” He kept his head bowed.

“This girl is under my protection now,” said the stranger, and he pulled Y/N into his side. The warmth of his leather was both a comfort and a discomfort; her face flushed with blood at the company of his hand on her shoulder. “If I see you near—if I see you touch her—I’ll take three fingers. Next, it’ll be your head. Do we have an understanding?”

Erik nodded his head frantically. “Yes, m’lord.”

“Go,” demanded the stranger. He and Y/N watched, one solemnly and one anxiously, as the man stumbled back from which he came from. And his legs were like that of a chicken’s—awkward and ungainly.

“Thank you,” said Y/N, once she was sure he was gone from both sight and ear. Her chest burned, as did her throat. When she said her thanks, she felt her voice catch. It left an itching sensation where her vocal fold met her esophagus.

“Did you steal from him, truly?” The stranger had removed his arm from around her shoulder, and he turned to face her. There was amusement in his face, as well as his mouth, which tilted up into a smile.

Y/N did not have the energy to return it. Though she may have made a quip another day, today was a day of lost wits and fatal battle scars. “No. He came upon me when I was resting, and took me up by the scruff,” said Y/N.

The stranger’s brow furrowed. “I should have brought him before my father,” he murmured to himself, before growing serious. “What is your name?”

“Y/N,” she said. She did not want to say her surname, in fear that he would take her before her lord uncle. She had no knowledge of the lords around these parts, nor their affiliation to House Bolton. “Yours?”

“You must not be from Winter Town,” said the stranger. “I am Robb, Robb Stark.”

Stark… Robb Stark… “Eddard Stark’s son?” Y/N was surprised. And more than surprised, she was scared. Her lord uncle was one of Eddard Stark’s bannermen. If he truly were as honorable as Westerosi travelers claimed, then by knowing Lord Bolton’s niece were in his midst, he would have a raven sent to him immediately… he would let the man take her, regardless of what caused her to run in the first place.

She would have her freedom stripped away, before she even had a chance to taste it in pure.

“Yes, I’m his eldest,” said Robb, seemingly oblivious of her growing panic. “Are you lost? You cannot be from Winter Town, if you did not know me by my face or name.” He seemed amused, yet also worried. He probably realized she was alone and homeless, with barely a possession to call her own.

Y/N toed the ground. “I am useless with directions,” she admitted, in a sheepish voice.

He appeared to look closer at her—at the top of her cloak. It was only too late that she realized—her house emblem adorned it as a pin. She took it off for every town she visited, but left it on when alone, or walking abandoned paths. It was the last gift she had from her father, a dainty metal thing rusted from years of continued use. She had not thought to remove in while in the presence of a lord’s son.

Stupid, she thought in a panic, but it was already too late.

“I thought Lord Bolton did not have any children,” said Robb, cluelessly. Where he’d once seen her as a lowborn peasant girl, he now had a closer scrutiny; he saw her as important, rather than a harmless trifle. He was smart, though she couldn’t expect any less from a lord’s son. He was raised up on knowing Westerosi houses, of knowing their house words, of knowing their flag depictions, of knowing their lords and their heirs. Whether they were extinct, or facing extinction. It would have been a great pity if he did not realize the extent of her privilege, by the emblem on her cloak.

“I—” Y/N began to panic. “He… he doesn’t.”

Robb saw the look in her eye. The look of a deer caught in sights by a wolf. “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you,” he soothed—well, attempted to soothe was more like it. “You have to be highborn, with an emblem of that making and stitching that fine. Why are you near Winterfell?”

It all suddenly became too much. The way he stared at her, the way her legs trembled under the weight of her exhaustion, the way her world had begun to crumble down—it was too much.

Y/N’s eyes began to flutter, and her legs fell underneath her. As Robb swooped to catch her, as he called for her, as he showered her in useless apologies, she found very little in herself to care.

The darkness swept her into its current, and all awareness of the world, of Robb Stark and his questions, was lost.

She only prayed that Lord Bolton would not be there to damn her in her wake.

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