#trust me I’d use anything else if I could | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

caelum-in-the-avatarverse · 7 months ago

Text

Fandom can do a little gatekeeping. As a treat.

So I finally decided to archive-lock my fics on AO3 last night. I’ve been considering it since the AI scrape last year, but the tipping point was this whole lore.fm debacle, coupled with some thoughts I’ve been thinking regarding Fandom These Days in general and Fandom As A Community in particular. So I wanna explain why I waited so long, why I locked my stuff up now, and why I’ve come to the conclusion that I’m a-okay with making it harder for people to see my stories.

Lurkers really are great, tho

I’m a chronic lurker, and have been since I started hanging out on the internet as a teen in the 00s. These days it’s just cuz I don’t feel a need to socialize very often, but back then it was because I was shy and knew I was socially awkward. Even if I made an account, I’d spend months lurking on message boards or forums or Livejournals, watching other people interact and getting a feel for that particular community’s culture and etiquette before I finally started interacting myself. And y’know, that approach saved me a lot of embarrassment. Over the course of my lurking on any site, there was always some other person who’d clearly joined up five minutes after learning the place existed, barged in without a care for their behavior, and committed so many social faux pas that all the other users were immediately annoyed with them at best. I learned a lot observing those incidents. Lurk More is Rule 33 of the internet for very good reason.

Lurking isn’t bad or weird or creepy. It’s perfectly normal. I love lurking. It’s hard for me to not lurk - socializing takes a lot of energy out of me, even via text. (Heck it took 12 hours for me to write this post, I wish I was kidding--) Occasionally I’ll manage longer bouts of interaction - a few weeks posting here, almost a year chatting in a discord there - but I’m always gonna end up going radio silent for months at some point. I used to feel bad about it, but I’ve long since made peace with the fact that it’s just the way my brain works. I’m a chronic lurker, and in the long term nothing is going to change that.

The thing with being a chronic lurker is that you have to accept that you are not actually seen as part of the community you are lurking in. That’s not to say that lurkers are unimportant - lurkers actually are important, and they make up a large proportion of any online community - but it’s simple cause and effect. You may think of it as “your community”, but if you’ve never said a word, how is the community supposed to know you exist? If I lurked on someone’s LJ, and then that person suddenly friendslocked their blog, I knew that I had two choices: Either accept that I would never be able to read their posts again, or reach out to them and ask if I could be added to their friends list with the full understanding that I was a rando they might not decide to trust. I usually went with the first option, because my invisibility as a lurker was more important to me than talking to strangers on the internet.

Lurking is like sitting on a park bench, quietly people-watching and eavesdropping on the conversations other people are having around you. You’re in the park, but you’re not actively participating in anything happening there. You can see and hear things that you become very interested in! But if you don’t introduce yourself and become part of the conversation, you won’t be able to keep listening to it when those people walk away. When fandom migrated away from Livejournal, people moved to new platforms alongside their friends, but lurkers were often left behind. No one knew they existed, so they weren’t told where everyone else was going. To be seen as part of a fandom community, you need to submit to the mortifying ordeal of being known, etc. etc.

There’s nothing wrong with lurking. There can actually be benefits to lurking, both for the lurkers and the communities they lurk in. It’s just another way to be in a fandom. But if that is how you exist in fandom--and remember, I say this as someone who often does exist that way in fandom--you need to remember that you’re on the outside looking in, and the curtains can always close.

I’ve always been super sympathetic to lurkers, because I am one. I know there’s a lot of people like me who just don’t socialize often. I know there’s plenty of reasons why someone might not make an account on the internet - maybe they’re nervous, maybe they’re young and their parents don’t allow them to, maybe they’re in a bad situation where someone is monitoring their activity, maybe they can only access the internet from public computer terminals. Heck, I’ve never even logged into AO3 on my phone--if I’m away from my computer I just read what’s publicly available.

I know I have people lurking on my fics. I know my fics probably mean a lot to someone I don’t even know exists. I know this because there are plenty of fics I love whose writers don’t know I exist.

I love my commenters personally; I love my lurkers as an abstract concept. I know they’re there and I wish them well, and if they ever de-lurk I love them all the more.

So up until last year I never considered archive-locking my fic, because I get it. The AI scraping was upsetting, but I still hesitated because I was thinking of lurkers and guests and remembering what it felt like to be 15 and wondering if it’d be worth letting a stranger on the internet know I existed and asking to be added to their friends list just so I could reread a funny post they made once.

But the internet has changed a lot since the 00s, and fandom has changed with it. I’ve read some things and been doing some thinking about fandom-as-community over the last few years, and reading through the lore.fm drama made me decide that it’s time for me to set some boundaries.

I still love my lurkers, and I feel bad about leaving any guest commenters behind, especially if they’re in a situation where they can’t make an account for some reason. But from here on out, even my lurkers are going to have to do the bare minimum to read my fics--make an AO3 account.

Should we gatekeep fandom?

I’ve seen a few people ask this question, usually rhetorically, sometimes as a joke, always with a bit of seriousness. And I think…yeah, maybe we should. Except wait, no, not like that--

A decade ago, when people talked about fandom gatekeeping and why it was bad to do, it intersected with a lot of other things, mainly feminism and classism. The prevalent image of fandom gatekeeping was, like, a man learning that a woman likes Star Wars and haughtily demanding, “Oh, yeah? Well if you’re REALLY a fan, name ten EU novels” to belittle and dismiss her, expecting that a “real fan” would have the money and time to be familiar with the EU, and ignoring the fact that male movie-only fans were still considered fans. The thing being gatekept was the very definition of “being a fan” and people’s right to describe themselves as one.

That’s not what I mean when I say maybe fandom should gatekeep more. Anyone can call themselves a fan if they like something, that’s fine. But when it comes to the ability to enjoy the fanworks produced by the fandom community…that might be something worth gatekeeping.

See, back in the 00s, it was perfectly common for people to just…not go on the internet. Surfing the web was a thing, but it was just, like, a fun pastime. Not everyone did it. It wasn’t until the rise of social media that going online became a thing everyone and their grandmother did every day. Back then, going on the internet was just…a hobby.

So one of the first gates online fandom ever had was the simple fact that the entire world wasn’t here yet.

The entire world is here now. That gate has been demolished.

And it’s a lot easier to find us now. Even scattered across platforms, fandom is so centralized these days. It isn’t a network of dedicated webshrines and forums that you can only find via webrings anymore, it’s right there on all the big social media sites. AO3 didn’t set out to be the main fanfic website, but that’s definitely what it’s become. It’s easy for people to find us--and that includes people who don’t care about the community, and just want “content.”

Transformative fandom doesn’t like it when people see our fanworks as “content”. “Content” is a pretty broad term, but when fandom uses it we’re usually referring to creative works that are churned out by content creators to be consumed by an audience as quickly as possible as often as possible so that the content creator can generate revenue. This not-so-new normal has caused a massive shift in how people who are new to fandom view fanworks--instead of seeing fic or art as something a fellow fan made and shared with you, they see fanworks as products to be consumed.

Transformative fandom has, in general, always been a gift economy. We put time and effort into creating fanworks that we share with our fellow fans for free. We do this so we don’t get sued, but fandom as a whole actually gets a lot out of the gift economy. Offer your community a story, and in return you can get comments, build friendships, or inspire other people to write things that you might want to read. Readers are given the gift of free stories to read and enjoy, and while lurking is fine, they have the choice to engage with the writer and other readers by leaving comments or making reclists to help build the community.

And look, don’t get me wrong. People have never engaged with fanfic as much as fan writers wish they would. There has always been “no one comments anymore” wank. There have always been people who only comment to say “MORE!” or otherwise demand or guilt trip writers into posting the next chapter. But fandom has always agreed that those commenters are rude and annoying, and as those commenters navigate fandom they have the chance to learn proper community etiquette.

However, now it seems that a lot of the people who are consuming fanworks aren’t actually in the community.

I won’t say “they aren’t real fans” because that’s silly; there’s lots of ways to be a fan. But there seem to be a lot of fans now who have no interest in fandom as a community, or in adhering to community etiquette, or in respecting the gift economy. They consume our fics, but they don’t appreciate fan labor. They want our “content”, but they don’t respect our control over our creations.

And even worse--they see us as a resource. We share our work for free, as a gift, but all they see is an open-source content farm waiting to be tapped into. We shared it for free, so clearly they can do whatever they want with it. Why should we care if they feed our work into AI training datasets, or copy/paste our unfinished stories into ChatGPT to get an ending, or charge people for an unnecessary third-party AO3 app, or sell fanbindings on etsy for a profit without the author’s permission, or turn our stories into poor imitations of podfics to be posted on other platforms without giving us credit or asking our consent, while also using it to lure in people they can datascrape for their Forbes 30 Under 30 company?

And sure, people have been doing shady things with other people’s fanworks since forever. Art theft and reposting has always been a big problem. Fanfic is harder to flat-out repost, but I’ve heard of unauthorized fic translations getting posted without crediting the original author. Once in…I think the 2010s? I read a post by a woman who had gone to some sort of local bookselling event, only to find that the man selling “his” novel had actually self-published her fanfic. (Wish I could find that one again, I don’t even remember where I read it.)

But aside from that third example, the thing is…as awful as fanart/writing theft is, back in the day, the main thing a thief would gain from it was clout. Clout that should rightfully go to the creators who gifted their work in the first place, yeah, but still. Just clout. People will do a lot of hurtful things for clout, but fandom clout means nothing outside of fandom. Fandom clout is not enough to incentivize the sort of wide-scale pillaging we’re seeing from community outsiders today.

Money, on the other hand… Well, fandom’s just a giant, untapped content farm, isn’t it? Think of how much revenue all that content could generate.

Lurkers are a normal and even beneficial part of any online community. Maybe one day they’ll de-lurk and easily slide into place beside their fellow fans because they already know the etiquette. Maybe they’re active in another community, and they can spread information from the community they lurk in to the community they’re active in. At the very least, they silently observe, and even if they’re not active community members, they understand the community.

Fans who see fanworks as “content” don’t belong in the same category as lurkers. They’re tourists.

While reading through the initial Reddit thread on the lore.fm situation, I found this comment:

[ID: Reddit User Cabbitowo says: ... So in anime fandoms we have a word called tourist and essentially it means a fan of a few anime and doesn't care about anime tropes and actively criticizes them. This is kind of how fandoms on tiktok feel. They're touring fanfics and fanart and actively criticizes tropes that have been in the fandom since the 60s. They want to be in a fandom but they don't want to engage in fandom

OP totallymandy responds: Just entered back into Reddit after a long day to see this most recent reply. And as a fellow anime fan this making me laugh so much since it’s true! But it sorta hurts too when the reality sets in. Modern fandom is so entitled and bratty and you’d think it’s the minors only but that’s not even true, my age-mates and older seem to be like that. They want to eat their cake and complain all whilst bringing nothing to the potluck… :/ END ID]

“Tourist” is an apt name for this sort of fan. They don’t want to be part of our community, and they don’t have to be in order to come into our spaces and consume our work. Even if they don’t steal our work themselves, they feel so entitled to it that they’re fine with ignoring our wishes and letting other people take it to make AI “podfics” for them to listen to (there are a lot of comments on lore.fm’s shutdown announcement video from people telling them to just ignore the writers and do it anyway). They’ll use AI to generate an ending to an unfinished fic because they don’t care about seeing “the ending this writer would have given to the story they were telling”, they just want “an ending”. For these tourist fans, the ends justify the means, and their end goal is content for them to consume, with no care for the community that created it for them in the first place.

I don’t think this is confined to a specific age group. This isn’t “13-year-olds on Wattpad” or “Zoomers on TikTok” or whatever pointless generation war we’re in now. This is coming from people who are new to fandom, whose main experience with creative works on the internet is this new content culture and who don’t understand fandom as a community. That description can be true of someone from any age group.

It’s so easy to find fandom these days. It is, in fact, too easy. Newcomers face no hurdles or challenges that would encourage them to lurk and observe a bit before engaging, and it’s easy for people who would otherwise move on and leave us alone to start making trouble. From tourist fans to content entrepreneurs to random people who just want to gawk, it’s so easy for people who don’t care about the fandom community to reap all of its fruits.

So when I say maybe fandom should start gatekeeping a bit, I’m referring to the fact that we barely even have a gate anymore. Everyone is on the internet now; the entire world can find us, and they don’t need to bother learning community etiquette when they do. Before, we were protected by the fact that fandom was considered weird and most people didn’t look at it twice. Now, fandom is pretty mainstream. People who never would’ve bothered with it before are now comfortable strolling in like they own the place. They have no regard for the fandom community, they don’t understand it, and they don’t want to. They want to treat it just like the rest of the content they consume online.

And then they’re surprised when those of us who understand fandom culture get upset. Fanworks have existed far longer than the algorithmic internet’s content. Fanworks existed long before the internet. We’ve lived like this for ages and we like it.

So if someone can’t be bothered to respect fandom as a community, I don’t see why I should give them easy access to my fics.

Think of it like a garden gate

When I interact with commenters on my fic, I have this sense of hospitality.

The comment section is my front porch. The fic is my garden. I created my garden because I really wanted to, and I’m proud of it, and I’m happy to share it with other people.

Lots of people enjoy looking at my garden. Many walk through without saying anything. Some stop to leave kudos. Some recommend my garden to their friends. And some people take the time to stop by my front porch and let me know what a beautiful garden it is and how much they’ve enjoyed it.

Any fic writer can tell you that getting comments is an incredible feeling. I always try to answer all my comments. I don’t always manage it, but my fics’ comment sections are the one place that I manage to consistently socialize in fandom. When I respond to a comment, it feels like I’m pouring out a glass of lemonade to share with this lovely commenter on my front porch, a thank you for their thank you. We take a moment to admire my garden together, and then I see them out. The next time they drop by, I recognize them and am happy to pour another glass of lemonade.

My garden has always been open and easy to access. No fences, no walls. You just have to know where to find it. Fandom in general was once protected by its own obscurity, an out-of-the-way town that showed up on maps but was usually ignored.

But now there’s a highway that makes it easy to get to, and we have all these out-of-towner tourists coming in to gawk and steal our lawn ornaments and wonder if they can use the place to make themselves some money.

I don’t care to have those types trampling over my garden and eating all my vegetables and digging up my flowers to repot and sell, so I’ve put up a wall. It has a gate that visitors can get through if they just take the time to open it.

Admittedly, it’s a small obstacle. But when I share my fics, I share them as a gift with my fellow fans, the ones who understand that fandom is a community, even if they’re lurkers. As for tourist fans and entrepreneurs who see fic as content, who have no qualms ignoring the writer’s wishes, who refuse to respect or understand the fandom community…well, they’re not the people I mean to share my fic with, so I have no issues locking them out. If they want access to my stories, they’ll have to do the bare minimum to become a community member and join the AO3 invite queue.

And y’know, I’ve said a lot about fandom and community here, and I just want to say, I hope it’s not intimidating. When I was younger, talk about The Fandom Community made me feel insecure, and I didn’t think I’d ever manage to be active enough in fandom spaces to be counted as A Member Of The Community. But you don’t have to be a social butterfly to participate in fandom. I’ll always and forever be a chronic lurker, I reblog more than I post, I rarely manage to comment on fic, and I go radio silent for months at a time--but I write and post fanfiction. That’s my contribution.

Do you write, draw, vid, gif, or otherwise create? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you leave comments? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you curate reclists? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you maintain a fandom blog or fuckyeah blog? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you provide a space for other fans to convene in? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you regularly send asks (off anon so people know who you are)? Congrats, you're a community member.

Do you have fandom friends who you interact with? Congrats, you're a community member.

There’s lots of ways to be a fan. Just make sure to respect and appreciate your fellow fans and the work they put in for you to enjoy and the gift economy fandom culture that keeps this community going.

#ao3 #lore.fm #fanfiction #fandom history #gift economy #caelum rambles

6K notes · View notes

ponderingmoonlight · 6 months ago

Text

Sanemi Shinazugawa falling hard for his polar opposite but is too subborn to confess until he does

Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader

Word Count: 1,9k

Synopsis: Sanemi was never the type of guy who falls for something stupid as love. Especially not when it comes to his polar opposite, especially not with such a kind and gentle girl like you... Right?

Warnings: this is pure fluff y'all, reader and Sanemi being innocent babies, a tiny bit enemies to lovers

Thank you soo much for that cute request @blunderland, I just knew I had to write that asap hehe. Let me know what you think <3

There you stand with your stupid perfect face and smile so gentle that you could tame a demon with it. With worried expression, you bend over the little demon girl and inspect her wounds carefully.

“Don’t worry, you’ll feel better soon”, you speak out while caressing her dark hair.

What a poor girl she is. And her brother…Your eyes drift towards the boy with the beat-up face. What he had to endure is truly unfair, too much to bear for a single person. He really lost his whole family apart from that one sister who got turned into a demon.

And now he’s fighting for the demon slayer corps.

“I admire you.”

Tanjiro Kamado’s eyes widen in utter surprise.

“There’s no need to admire me. Actually, I’m the one who’s looking up to you. You’re the first person who didn’t judge my sister because she’s a demon.”

“Demons were once humans too”, you explain briefly while gracefully getting up.

“And I refuse to see them as anything else until they prove the opposite.”

“What kind of fuckery is this, (y/n)?”, an oh so familiar voice barks at you from behind.

Sanemi Shinazugawa really seems like a man with a heart made out of solid ice with his hateful orbs gleaming at Tanjiro and his sister.

“Don’t you think they proved themselves more than enough, Sanemi? If Kagaya-sama agreed on allowing Nezuko Kamado to live and her brother to continue fighting for the demon slayer corps, there is nothing to question for us hashira.”

“Don’t touch that demon brat so casually”, he hisses through gritted teeth while grabbing your wrist tightly.

Your heart skips a beat when his bare skin touches yours. How ridiculous it is that you developed feelings for him. Out of all the other hashira, it was always Sanemi Shinazugawa before everyone else. Those rare moments of tenderness he shows from time to time, the way he worries about his comrades without expressing his true feelings to the world. His closed like a treasure, so gorgeous that you can’t take your eyes off him.

“That isn’t a very nice way to talk to our guests, Sanemi”, you reply softly.

Urgh. He can’t fucking stand you with that scolding expression on your face, how your other hand still rests on top of the head of that demon brat. Why do you have to be so sickening kind to everyone you meet? Why are you even a part of the demon slayer corps with that strange attitude of yours?

“Guests? Are you talking about those intruders? If it was for me, I’d rip both of your heads off without blinking-“

“Sanemi.”

Before he’s able to react any further, he finds his own face framed by your much smaller hands and eyes focused onto his so intensely that he feels his cheeks heat up in an instant.

Why…Why is he suddenly feeling so hot? He should slap your hands away, should show you your place-

“Trust me, I understand your anger. But they are innocent until they prove themselves guilty.”

Those calm eyes who never lose their composure, the eyes he threatened to get lost in countless times already. Why do you have to be so damn gorgeous?

Gorgeous? He furrows his eyebrows, body yanking away from yours instantly. There’s nothing gorgeous about someone like you.

“If you really think that you’re a fool”, he bites back before turning on his heels and storming away.

What the hell was he even thinking? You, gorgeous…Just because your eyes seem to sparkle in the sunlight or the way your hair looks like liquid silk when a ray of light hits it perfectly. Or maybe because of the way your uniform hugs you so well, because of your strength. Or is it the way you look at him?

Sanemi shakes his head vehemently. That’s absolutely ridiculous. You’re the complete opposite of him. How could he ever like you?

“I think Shinazugawa-san likes you, (y/n)!”, Mitsuri babbles out while making her way back with you.

“Really? It definitely didn’t look that way”, you reply with low voice.

Oh, how much you’d hope that someday, the wind hashira actually likes you back. Even though both of you are polar opposites, even though you might never be on same terms. You still somehow managed to fall hard for him.

“Don’t give up hope, (y/n)! I definitely caught the way he looked at you earlier!”

You smile at the girl next to you gently, how she starts analyzing every minor detail of your confrontation earlier on. Mitsuri always swore that there is chemistry between both of you.

“And I’m never wrong when it comes to love, you can trust me (y/n)!”

“You’re a fool for treating (y/n) like trash, Shinazugawa”, Obanai comments dryly while letting his feet dangle from the tree he’s resting on.

“What are you even talking about, huh? It’s none of your business how I’m talking to her anyway.”

“(y/n) truly has a tender and kind soul. What a shame it is you hurt her like that”, Gyomei adds, tears streaming down his face in waterfalls again.

“Are you too dumb to realize she has feelings for you?”, Obanai continues.

You? Feelings for him? He huffs out loud. Absolutely ridiculous, maybe even impossible. Why would someone like you fall for someone like him? Not that he’d care for you like that anyway…

“I don’t give a shit”, Sanemi finally mutters through gritted teeth.

“Shinazugawa, it seems like you have a type”, Gyomei declares all of the sudden.

Something inside Sanemi snaps.

“Are y’all actually too dumb to realize that (y/n)’d never want me? I’m actually so far away from being her type I might be on a whole other planet! It’s like everything I am is exactly what she doesn’t want”, he finally blurts out.

Sanemi’s heavy pants hang in the air while the eyes of Obanai, Giyu and even Gyomei are set on him.

“You should really start working on your self-esteem, Shinazugawa.”

“JUST LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE Y’ALL!”

No, he can’t stand their bullshit anymore. Without listening to another word, Sanemi stomps away in the direction of his estate.

“(y/n) being in love with me? That I don’t laugh, why would I even care about that girl?”, he mumbles under his breath.

-a few days later-

Sanemi swallows heavy, orbs wandering up and down your body. You’re not wearing your usual black uniform and blooming haori. No, you look like a fucking goddess in that kimono and with those flowers braided into your hair.

“Do you think I look like too much?”, you question quietly, your own eyes wandering down your body in distress.

Maybe it was a mistake wearing that kimono for your meeting with Mitsuri. Of course, you knew she’d ask Obanai and Sanemi to accompany you. After all, it’s no secret that she adores the serpent hashira and knows too well about the feelings you hold for Sanemi. But now that you stand in front of him in something apart from your usual uniform, your confidence is blown away by the wind.

“You have to be kidding me. You look gorgeous”, Sanemi blurts out before thinking twice.

Fuck, did he really say that? You definitely think he’s a creep now. Maybe he should get going before it gets uncomfortable-

Your heart skips a beat, cheeks heating up in an instant. Did Sanemi Shinazugawa just call you gorgeous when he’s standing in front of you in that dark green kimono? How is it possible you’re never seen Sanemi in something apart from his usual uniform, that you never went out with each other?

“You look very handsome yourself. Dark green really suits you well”, you reply shyly.

Is it possible that maybe, just maybe, he might feel the same about you? No, that would be absolutely ridiculous, right?

“(y/n), actually there’s something I wanted to say you for quite some time now…” What the hell is he blabbering about? There’s absolutely nothing he has to tell you apart from how fucking annoying you are. You and your gentle voice, you and your captivating smile. You, the polar opposite of him-

“Oh, I actually wanted to tell you something as well!”, you reply a little too fast.

For a moment, you fear your knees might give in. Is this really the time to tell him about your true feelings? “Sometimes you have to be brave, (y/n), especially when it comes to true love! Confess to him!”

Mitsuri is the love hashira. She should know best, right? But what if you’ll make your relationship only worse by making him uncomfortable? What if he doesn’t even like you?

“Sanemi, I…I actually…I-“

“I love you, (y/n)”, Sanemi finally blurts out.

Oh.

There you stand with your opened mouth and blank mind. Did he really just say that? Maybe he didn’t mean it that what. But what if…What if he actually means it?

“You…love me?”, you breathe out.

“I know I’m your polar opposite and that I treated you like shit and I really don’t expect you to actually like me back. I just…wanted to let you know…”, the white-haired man opposite of you mutters while scratching the back of his head.

“But I actually do like you back…”

Sanemi’s eyes dart towards you immediately, his very own cheeks discolored bright pink.

“You…what?”

“I guess I was just never brave enough to let you know since I was sure you hate me…”, you mutter in response.

“Me, hating you?”

All of the sudden, you find his strong arms wrapped around your waist and his face only inches away from yours. You fail to breathe, your whole body refusing to function properly. That force of a man who never really seemed to care about you while your feelings for him were all over the place…He holds you so tight that your wobbly legs don’t have to carry your weight anymore, his usual so distressed orbs now looking down at you so passionately that your heart skips a beat.

“Do I look like I hate you?”, he challenges while pulling you even closer.

You expected a lot of things that could have happened today. Sanemi Shinazugawa declining Mitsuri’s invitation in the first place. Sanemi Shinazugawa keeping his safe distance to you. Sanemi Shinazugawa barking at you for being a blowhard. Sanemi Shinazugawa criticizing each and every little thing you do. But Sanemi Shinazugawa admitting his love for you, Sanemi Shinazugawa holding you tightly in his arms?

Not in a million years.

“I love you too”, you finally speak out.

“I actually did for quite some time. But I always thought you’d never like me back.“

“Well, here I am liking you back, idiot”, Sanemi mutters.

Is that a smile on his face? Why does it suddenly feel like his lips are moving closer? Oh, you thought about kissing that man countless times. Each and every night, you imagined what the privilege of feeling his soft lips pressed against yours might feel like. Is he rough, gentle? Did the wind hashira already share a kiss or two? Out of instinct, you close your eyes, allow yourself to get lost in his arms.

“Look what we have here. Seems like the two of you finally managed to admit your feelings”, Obanai’s dry voice jeers at you from behind.

Your eyes dart open immediately.

“No Iguro-san! You’re interrupting them!”, Mitsuri hisses.

“Are you too dumb to see we’re in the middle of something? Get lost, you fools!”

“I KNEW IT (Y/N)! I KNEW HE LOVED YOU!”

Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld

@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake

@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345

@komelrebi-san @kentocalls (your fic will be next) @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp

@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine

1K notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 1 year ago

Note

I wish I had a smitten Bucky. Just sees me and wants me. 🥺

I know the feeling, nonnie.

Check Yes or No

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky instantly falls for you, but waits to ask you out.

Word Count: Over 2.1k

Warnings: Fluff, could be seen as instalove on Bucky's side, attraction, slight insecurities, minor time jump, Alpine being the best, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: I can't send Bucky your way, lovelies, so I hope you enjoy this short, surprise fic! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky wasn't looking for love the day he met you, but it found him anyway.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve greeted from his seat when he walked into the conference rooms and nodded to the spot beside him that you occupied. “I’d like you to meet our newest transfer. She’s also moving into the Tower.”

He was a changed man the moment your eyes met. Breathtaking was a word to describe you given how he had forgotten to breathe. He had witnessed many sunrises and sunsets in his life, a kaleidoscope of colors painted in the sky to both soothe and awaken the soul. They paled in comparison to the beauty before him.

One glance and he belonged to you completely.

“Hi, Bucky. It’s nice to meet you.”

While he wasn't sure if Heaven existed, you speaking his name was like hearing the voice of an angel.

“I’m Bucky.”

Of all the things he could've said, reiterating his name was what his mouth went with.

Instead of giving him a weird look or brushing him off when he scowled at himself, you smiled. “I look forward to us working together.”

Bucky couldn't tell you what the meeting was about that day, but he remembered the details about you. The way you leaned forward in your seat to pay extra attention when someone else spoke, also giving him an ample view of your chest before he reminded himself not to stare. The slight crease in your forehead when you jotted down an important note. And the soft giggle you let out when Steve cracked a joke.

He suddenly wished he was funnier.

“Have a good rest of the day, Bucky,” you said when the meeting ended.

Bucky didn't have to try to smile with you. It just came naturally. When you smiled back, it was easy to imagine what it would be like if you were his girl.

“You, too,” he replied, giving himself a mental victory for not screwing up his words this time. ��Wait!”

You paused and looked at him expectantly. “Yeah?”

Bucky realized he had no reason to keep you from leaving. He just didn't want you to go. “Do you need help moving your stuff in?”

“I actually got my things moved in late last night, but thanks for the offer,” you replied, checking the time with wide eyes. “I'm so sorry. I have to go. I’m in 2L if you need anything!”

“Bye,” he called after you, turning in his chair to watch you go.

How did he miss you already?

Though Steve had a knowing look in his eyes, he graciously kept his mouth shut as he left the room. He reminded him an hour later that he wouldn't break any bylaws by asking you out. The punk somehow knew that you weren't seeing anyone.

Which made him happy.

While he appreciated Steve looking out for happiness, he still had to get his head on straight.

“Once I completely trust my own mind, maybe I will,” Bucky said, even though the stuff was already out of his head. He owed it to himself to take his time. And you.

Imagine his surprise when he found a note from you on his door the next day.

Hey, Bucky! Lunch on me today? Check YES or NO.

The lopsided grin on his face wouldn't go away when he read it again. You must've been interested in him enough to ask about him. How else did you know his apartment number? Why else would you ask him to lunch?

He nearly shouted “YES” in the hall before he came to his senses and simply checked the option before he returned the note to your apartment door.

When he met up with you later, he told himself it wasn't a date. It couldn't be, right? It didn't keep his heart from stopping when you answered your door. Dressed down and casual, you looked like an angel went to Earth just for him.

“Hey, Bucky,” you smiled. “Ready to go?”

He hadn't said much on the way to the cafe since he was too busy hanging on to your every word, but it was like he had known you for ages as you carried on the conversation. Your questions weren't invasive and you didn't seem to mind the occasional short answers. It was also the shortest meal of his life, over too soon for his liking, and he also refused to let you pay for his meal.

He wanted to show you that gentlemen still existed.

“Lunch again next week?” You offered.

“Sure,” he answered, his head spinning from giddiness.

But it wasn't a date.

It was time to change that.

Today was the day. Six months from the day he met you. Six months of chatting with you between missions and slowly getting to know you over weekly lunches. Six months of falling for you more and more each day and he finally worked up the courage to ask you out.

But falling was the easy part. Confessing was an entirely different story. He would either crash to the ground and hope his wounds would later heal or you’d catch him as he fell. No matter what, he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Just like we practiced, okay?” Bucky asked.

“Meow.”

Alpine nuzzled her head against Bucky’s with a gentle purr when he huffed. She was his little partner-in-crime through and through. Like you, even though you didn't realize it, the little white ball of fur helped save him. He was fairly certain he wasn't supposed to bring her to this floor, but any reprimand would be worth it.

Besides, the Tower, office, anywhere they operated should allow them to have their pets with them, especially for emotional support.

“I'm counting on you,” he teased, placing the folded up piece of paper in her mouth. “Go.”

He peeked around the corner when he set Alpine down. The sun illuminated you from where you sat in the lounge, curled up in your normal spot on the sofa. You liked to relax there occasionally to read. He wondered what book you had with you today.

Thankfully, no one was around to disturb you.

Except for him.

“Alpine, is that you?” You asked when you looked up, closing the book as the cat approached you. While the feline was cautious of some, she warmed up to you immediately when you met and solidified that you were the one for him. “Whatcha got there? Where’s Bucky?”

His name spilling from your lips was still one of his favorite sounds.

He held his breath when Alpine jumped up beside you, opened her mouth, and dropped the paper in your lap. He immediately began to second guess himself when you unfolded it with a furrowed brow. Why did he think this was a good idea? Why didn't he just ask you like a normal guy?

To be fair, he hadn't been normal for some time.

“Will you go out with me? Check YES or NO. Love, Bucky,” you read out loud with a huge smile, which was enough to make his heart race. You giggled a moment later when Alpine bumped your hand, the soft noise making his stomach do a funny sort of flip. “Okay, okay. Let me get my pen out of my bag.”

Bucky exhaled a little as he moved to stand in the doorway. You didn't toss the paper away, so that had to be a good sign. He carefully kept himself from showing any outward emotion when you met his gaze, but his knees nearly gave out. His palms also began to sweat when you gave him a half smile.

Just when he thought you couldn't look more beautiful than you had the day before, you proved him wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair and hoped he looked halfway decent since he hadn't brushed it. But you commented a few weeks back that you liked it long when you saw an old photo, so he wanted to grow it out. He lost count of how many times he imagined your fingers in his hair

Maybe one day.

Watching you grab your pen, it was like he was drowning. The tide pulled him under as you made a mark on the sheet. His lungs burned when you handed it back to Alpine. He couldn't come up for air. He couldn't breathe.

Until you smiled again.

“Thanks, Alpine,” you said.

His cat gracefully walked back to Bucky and he swore he caught you trying not to giggle as she climbed up his leg. His heart hammered in his chest when he took the slip of paper from her mouth. Meeting your tender gaze, he couldn't bring himself to open it though.

After he told himself he wouldn't let his nerves get the better of him.

“Not going to see what my answer is?” You asked as he carried Alpine into the lounge.

“I want to,” he replied, sighing as he took a seat beside you. His cat was perfectly content to lay in his lap. “But I’m questioning if I did this the right way.”

The note you gave him for a simple lunch request may have been a small gesture in your eyes, but it meant the world to him. He thought by asking you out this way that he could give you something meaningful in return. Something that only the two of you shared.

That was all he wanted.

You turned toward him, your knee touching his. The small touch sent heat down his spine. “Open it and you’ll find out.”

He nodded, thankful that his vibranium hand didn't shake as he lifted the sheet. “Wait, let me say something before I do.”

The corner of your lip tugged as you tried not to smile. “Bucky-”

“I like you. I really like you. I have since the day we met. And I'm going to like you tomorrow. And the day after that and the day after that,” he admitted in a rush, catching your sharp inhale as he looked into your eyes. “But I know my past isn't easy to deal with. If you just want to be a teammate or colleague, that’s okay. Just. Being a part of your life in some way is more than enough.”

Alpine lifted her head and looked between the two of you, as if she was waiting with baited breath to see what would happen next.

Bucky felt a crack in his heart when you didn't speak or react, his body slumping slightly into the couch. It was okay. He took a chance and told you how he felt. He wouldn't force you to reciprocate.

“Bucky?” You asked above a whisper, reaching over to help him unfold the paper. He gasped when he saw the checkmark beside “YES”, blinking rapidly to make sure you picked that box. “I really like you, too.”

“You do?” He exhaled, grasping your hand with renewed joy. He was careful not to squeeze too hard. Hurting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do.

“Yeah. Pretty much since the day I met you,” you admitted, glancing in your lap before you met his gaze again. He saw stars in your eyes. “And your past isn't your fault, Bucky. You aren't something to ‘deal with’, okay? You’re a good man. I can give you a whole list of reasons if you need it.”

Physically, Bucky’s body was in peak condition. Your confession, however, caused all of the air to leave his lungs and made him weak in the best possible way. A familiar warmth moved through Bucky’s veins as he breathed again and it dawned on him at that moment that he hadn't felt cold since you walked into his life.

Not once.

Your faith in him gave him strength. Your mere existence gave him the courage to try. And he didn't have to go it alone.

“Wow,” he breathed, relieved and elated as he gave you a small smile. “How about tomorrow night?”

“It’s a date,” you smiled.

“Great,” he smiled back. A date. He couldn't wait to see the look on Steve's face when he told him that he finally asked you out.

“And I think the note was purrfect,” you teased at Alpine before you scrunched up your face. “I ruined the moment, didn't I?”

Bucky brought your hand to his mouth, kissing it as gently as he possibly could. He could hear your heart race. So was his. “Not at all.”

He knew it was too soon to say he loved you and it was likely too soon for you to feel that way about him, but he felt hope in your smile that you would one day.

For now, he had a date to plan all because you checked “yes”.

We know it'll be the best date ever, right? Love and thanks for reading! 💙

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

4K notes · View notes

luveline · 3 months ago

Note

Hii i love the way you write!!! Could you write something about bad ass reader X Spencer? I miss them soo much.... Maybe something about her saying I love you for the first time and she's nervous and he's confused bc he's not understanding why she's nervous and what she's trying to say ❤️❤️❤️

some light spencer fluff ! love u. fem

Spencer has hair like silk. Brown, shiny curls in the milky moonlight of a September sky. The cold air nips his nose and cheeks, leaving ruddy blush like cherry stains that bring out the endless brown of his eyes. His hand is callused beneath yours, evidence of hour upon hour of stooped writing, pen ink on his fingertips, dark black smudges that stretch as they squeeze. He tips his head back to look at the bruising sky and the stars are like pin pricks, close and very, very far as he again squeezes your hand. You’re surprised you can see the stars, but this part of the country is quiet.

“Wow, look at all of those,” he says, like he’s begging you to see them too; worried you’ll miss out on such a heart-rending sight.

You let your side weigh on his and look up, feeling the cold of each star above you like a sudden breeze. Your nose is ice, your lips chapping despite a little lip balm you’d rushed on before you left the cottage. It’s a small, beautiful place, decorated by its patches, ivy and cobbled roofing, window panes replaced in different shades of pink and orange and green. You can see it from where you’re standing, a light forgotten in the bathroom.

Let’s go on a walk, Spencer‘d said, before it gets too cold.

It’s too cold already. You shiver, forcing more of your weight into Spencer’s side, only slightly abashed as he wraps his arm around you and presses the soft of his cheek to your head. “See that one?” he asks, smiling, “I think that’s the North Star. Brightest one.”

You close your eyes.

“It’s really cold, isn’t it?” he asks.

“It’s freezing.”

Spencer noses your cheek. Your stomach flips, a zapping, sickening electricity bending and aching inside you from his innocuous touch. Intimacy with Spencer has become casual, but not less exciting. You feel him like a contusion, sometimes. Right in the pit of your stomach. It borders on unpleasant, though it never quite gets there. You want him to do this to you for the rest of your life, you think, opening your eyes to catch a last look at the dark sky and its rich field of stars like white strawberry seeds.

Spencer’s watching you when you drop your chin. You’d scowl if he were anyone else, reluctant to be caught relaxed, but it’s him.

“You okay?”

“Shouldn’t I be?” you ask. You’ve given little clue of nerves. You’re as rigid as ever, the softest part of you your hand where he’s petting your index finger.

“I know when you’re… not fully you,” he says.

“I’m still me. Just worried.”

“About what?”

There’s a layer of gutted to his voice you don’t like. You shouldn’t be worried about anything. You and your colleagues at the BAU recently received a pay rise at work, as well as a small bonus, which you and Spencer then cashed to vacation here. It might not be the best time of year, but anywhere with Spencer can be perfect. So far it has been. Waking up with him in a space that isn’t his apartment or yours feels new, startlingly good, it makes you think of the future in ways you hadn’t considered in depth previously. The aching puddle of your stomach yawns again.

“I have something– something I–” You wince through it as Spencer’s brows rise. “I need to tell you something, Spencer. Before it jumps out of me.”

“Okay.” His breath is like mist in front of him. His cheeks continue in their reddening.

“I’m worried I won’t say it the right way.”

Spencer shakes his head. You’d like to rub some warmth into his skin, but you don’t trust your hands to stay steady. “You’re making me nervous.”

“I’m really happy we’re here. I can’t… there isn’t any other way I’d like to spend the weekend. This is really– Spencer, this is perfect, and it’s because of you. Us.“ Spencer’s overlooked and under appreciated everywhere he goes. Just once, you want him to feel seen for the gem he is. “I really,” —your breath leaves you like it’s been yanked from your chest— “love you.”

Spencer brings your hand to his chest. “You love me?” he asks, kissing your fingers.

You dip your chin to your chest. “Yeah.”

“I love you.“ What an odd emphasis, and somehow the right one.

You nod. That’s good. It’s good to be loved. You’d known he loved you, of course, but it’s good to have it said aloud.

“You aren’t surprised?” he asks. “But, why were you worried?”

Hard to explain. You give in to temptation, cradling the cold stretch of his cheek to rub a thumb over his bottom lip. Your lip balm has left it soft. “I told you, I didn’t think I’d say it right.”

“You don’t usually say anything wrong.”

Spencer wraps his arm around you and tugs you in for a hug. You stumble back at the force of him and he sways you from one side to the other, keeping you up with him, frosting grass crunching under your shoes. The night is quiet here, coloured only by the shush of the wind and the stirring leaves of the woodlands. Spencer’s breath is by far the loudest sound, a huffing, happy thing that betrays his excitement. “I love you,” he says on a laugh. “It was nice to see you struggling to talk, for once, but you don’t need to be nervous with me. I love you.” Two admissions at once. You find yourself renewed.

“It was a one time thing, I assure you.”

“Consider me assured,” he says, ferrying your face up for a warm kiss.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

699 notes · View notes

skulla-rxcks · 1 month ago

Text

Was that message for me?

Paring: friend!bang chan x afab reader

Rating: explicit

Genre: smut

Warnings: PIV, mutual msturbation, friends trope, chan thinks the message wasn’t for him, slight daddy kink, oral, fingèring

Asking best friend!Chan for help orgasming.. but he thinks the message wasn’t for him

Taglist: @f3lix00 @channiesgoodgirl @mal-lunar-28 @bangchans-gf5 @fun-fanfics @iwannabangchan @linosluver

Please dm me or use my inbox if you’d like to be added to the taglist ^^

!THIS IS PURE FICTION, NOTHING IN THIS IS REAL ITS JUST A STORY!

“Heyy can you come over? I need help :(”

“Why? You okay? What do you need help with?”

“I can’t seem to cum. Every time I try to orgasm I just seem to can’t, it’s like I’m stopped.”

“Were you meant to say that to me?” Chan asks typing his fingers across his phone, clearly confused. This message wasn’t meant for him.. right?

“Wdym?”

“You asked for help with.. you know.. uh things. That wasn’t meant for me right?”

He looks at his phone, his brows furrowing in confusing as he reads over the explicit question asked.

“Chris just come over please. It’s easier to talk in person”

I sigh my mood changing to regret as I can already see the confusion in his face even though I can’t physically see him through my phone. I end up receiving a thumbs up in response ‘thank god I didn’t just mess up our friendship completely’ I sigh in relief; and about twenty or so minutes later I hear the door bell ring; getting up from my bed and exiting my room I go and answer it, opening the door to Chan, clearly questioning what the fuck just happened not too long ago.

“So im guessing it was for me if you asked me to come over..? You did use my name after all.” He steps inside, making his way to my living room and taking a seat on the couch, I sit down next to him, both of us completely flustered.

“I’m really sorry for bringing this up I know it’s probably a bit uncomfortable talking about something like this but-” Chan cuts me off, looking at me with concern.

“No no don’t worry it’s fine! I uh, get like that sometimes I understand.. do you not own toys or anything that could.. give you a hand?” I shake my head, looking embarrassed for bringing this ‘issue’ up to someone who I’d probably consider my guy best friend.

“No.. I mean, I use the handle of my hair brush sometimes but I’ve never had this issue before.” I blush, why am I asking him about something like this? I feel like I’m going to cry out from embarrassment.

He sighs, noticing how uncomfortable I am and how much I trust him to even bring up an issue like this.

“Have you tried anything else? Pillow humping?.. uhh… maybe use more fingers if you.. never mind I’m so sorry I sound really perverted giving suggestions haha.” He laughs, trying to lighten the mood and get some of the tension out of the air that’s filling the room.

“No! Don’t worry Chan it’s fine.. I’m finding it helpful to talk about this stuff..” I mumble under my breath.

“Okay well.. are you stressed? Maybe that’s the reason I’ve heard that stress can stop people from orgasming sometimes?” He suggests, trying to get to the bottom of whatever’s happening. “I’m not sure. Can you give me a hand and see if that’s the problem maybe? I uh, maybe if someone helps me I’ll be able to..”

Chan nods slowly looking into my eyes for permission before reassuring himself with his words. “So you want me to.. help you cum? Like you want me to touch you or..” He scrunches his face, a hint of lust glazing over his features, his soft lips puckering with his expressions, a mix of frowns and smiles cover them.

I Look away, fiddling with my own hands. “If that’s okay.. hopefully it doesn’t ruin our relationship or anything.” I blush, fluttering my eyelashes at him, silently pleading for more. “Of course if that’s what you need to make you feel better then I’m happy to oblige, especially if I’m the one who can make you cum.” He chuckles, the top of his ears turning red.

I smile, beginning to take off my sweat pants along with my panties, watching as he strips himself of his bottom half as well.

“So what now..?” I ask. “Maybe we should start with mutual masturbation.. don’t wanna rush things, you know?” He smiles politely. What a gentle man he is, not rushing into anything fast, even though I’d be happy for whatever he wants to do first with me. “Okay” I nod, picking up our pants and bringing him to my bedroom and sitting down with him. “You know how to do this right?”

“We just.. masturbate side by side?” I look at him. Receiving a nod. I look at him as he starts to wrap his fist around his cock, pumping it slowly before picking up speed, the site of his dick making my insides ache and my cunt twitch with need. Watching him, I slowly thrust two fingers inside of my hole, curling them up to hit my g spot, my eyes however, are hooked onto his dick, watching him like he’s some sort of drug to me, drawing me in more and more with every stroke.

“You’re staring quite a bit, you okay?” He giggles, rubbing his spare hand on my thigh reassuringly. “Yeah yeah it’s just.. wow, I never expected to do something like this with you.. I mean, you’re probably one of my best friends after all” I shuffle closer to him, my pussy twitching around my fingers as I think about how his dick would feel inside of me; raw or protected I don’t care, I wonder how good he’d feel inside of me with his thick length, if he’d let me cum immediately or if he’d dominate me and use me to his liking; controlling whether or not I’m allowed to cum as I squirm under him.

I finally decide to let my horny thoughts get a hold of me. “I want you.. but I still can’t seem to..”

“You have me, princess. What’s on your mind?” He says, looking into my eyes with concern, noticing how needy I’m getting. He probably noticed how I was twitching around my fingers and lost in my thoughts. “I’m wondering how.. how your..” I try to get my words out but they’re tied back against my throat. “How my what?” He teases, clearly enjoying this side of me. “Tell me or I won’t give it to you, yeah?”

I nod, “I’m wondering how your dick would feel inside of me.. e-every inch and the thickness of it stretching me open.. how you’d treat me differently while I’m under you or on top.” I look away after finally spilling my words out, feeling my cheeks get hot. There’s so much more I want to say but it would take hours.

“Do you wanna stop wondering and try it out? Id be lying if I said I wasn’t wondering similar things about your pretty little pussy.. wonder how tight you are and how your face contorts as you make a pretty mess all over my dick.” He teases, reaching over into my lap to stroke his fingers over my clitoris, making me squirm with need.

“Please Chan.. Please Chris..” I beg him, using both of his names. “Good girl. Protection or no protection?” He asks, wanting to know my preference or if I want him to fill me up with his hot seed or not.

“As much as I want to risk it.. I don’t wanna accidentally you know, get impregnated and regret it once I’m not extremely fucking horny.”

“Mm that’s okay.. hopefully one day you’ll let me pump that cunt of yours up full of my cum, hm?” Chan smirks, enjoying making me into a soaking wet needy mess with his words.

He lifts his shirt over his head exposing his bare muscular body as he climbs on top of me. “Be a good girl and take your bra off for me, let me see those tits..” “yes da-“ I pause, realising what almost came out of my mouth. “Daddy huh? Fuck that made me so turned on.” He groans, reaching into his bag and finding a condom before rolling it onto his dick. While he does that I obey his order and unclip my bra, my breasts now being on display.

He licks his lips at the site of me now laying under him completely naked and vulnerable, dripping and ready for his cock. Chan positions himself at my entrance and pushes in, making me let out a moan of pleasure.

“Chris oh my god..!” I cry out, savouring the feeling of how his cock fills up my dripping needy cunt perfectly, slowly calming the urges inside of me but slowly making me want more. “Shh you’re okay.. just focus on how good I feel inside this pretty pussy, okay?”

“M-mhm..” a whimper leaves my mouth before feeling Chan press his lips against mine, his tongue parting my lips and our tongues now dancing and tangling together as his hands slowly creep their way down to my breasts massaging and playing with them making me squirm under him with even more need pulsing through my body as a result of his actions. “So fucking tight just for me..” he murmurs Into the kiss, beginning to plunge his dick in and out of my hole harder and faster. “Y-yes only for you daddy… I’m all yours ” I moan, parting away from the kiss to look into his eyes, my brain studying every scrunch and frown of pleasure lurking upon his face.

Fuck, I imagine how he must feel pounding and ruining me raw, without protection; every vein and every pulse as more blood runs to his dick making him grow and twitch inside of me. God, how I want him to fill me up and impregnate me with his children so Fucking badly. It’s definitely not right for our first time being intimate though.

“Whatcha thinking about now baby girl?” He teases again, pumping his length deeper into my pussy, I can’t even get a solid response out of my mouth it feels so fucking good. “So loud.. you gonna cum? You gonna make a mess all around my dick?”

“A-ah.. yes.. yes.. soon!” I cry, feeling myself tighten around him as I creep up the road to reach my peak. “So loud..” he chuckles, connecting his lips to my breast sucking gently on my nipple as I let loose a soft scream that turns into a loud moan as I feel him pound his length deeper Into me.

My back arching slightly from the pressure, tears starting to well up in my eyes as a loud string of moans leave my lips.

“Come for me baby~ Come for daddy~”

And so I did, screaming and crying louder than I ever had before, clenching him tighter, cumming around his cock. HARD.

Not long after I feel Chan reach his too, filling up the condom, making me feel a little bubble inside of me before pulling out, tying it up and properly disposing of it. “You sound so pretty when you cum baby? May I eat you out? Show you I can make you cum in more ways than one?” He chuckles, clearly amused with himself at the mess he’s created

“Please..” I pout, the thought of his plush soft lips against my clit and his tongue thrusting in and out of my needy little hole making me go feral.

“Only for you.” he smirks. I shivering as he slowly makes his way down to my cunt, licking and trailing his tongue down from my breasts until he reaches his desired destination. He grips his hands around my thighs, gently prying them open before attaching his lips to my now swollen clitoris flicking it with his tongue as his beady brown eyes look up at me and watch while I throw my head back in pleasure. “C-Chris..! Ah..”

“You taste just as good as you look..” Chan groans into my pussy, making me whimper even more this time due to the vibrations of his voice flowing through me and my pussy. “Fuck! You’re ruining me..!~” I sob out in pleasure, my hand reaching down to push his face deeper into my folds, needing more of his mouth, which only causes him to start moving his tongue and lips faster.

“Chris!! Don’t do that ill-“ I try to warn him but it’s too late, I’ve already made a mess of myself all over his face.

“Well at least you’re not complaining are you?” God, even his way of words makes me so horny.

I shake my head. “Good girl. My good girl.” He grins, moving his head up from my crotch to my face, forcing his lips on mine making me taste myself. “Mmph!?-“ I gasp against his lips as he pushes two fingers inside of me, bending them and moving them back and forth against that sweet spot inside of me.

“You like that baby girl? Tell me what you like about my hands.. since you stare at them so often you must have some naughty thoughts about them, yeah?” Chan pulls away from the kiss, a string of saliva still connecting our lips as he waits for my response.

“Y-yes.. I.. i Imagine your fingers in me as I touch myself, but f-fuck they’re so much better and faster than mine.” I connect my lips back to his, our tongues beginning to swirl and twirl again. “Get on your knees for me.” He demands me, I let out a whine of disappointment as he pulls his fingers out of my pussy. “Mhm..” I smile, getting down on my knees and looking up at him. “I ate your pretty little pussy so now it’s time for you to wrap that mouth around me.,”

“Yes”

“Yes what?”

“Yes daddy.”

“Such a good girl you are, already knowing your place” he praises. I wrap my mouth around his already dripping cock and start taking him Into my mouth, sucking him. The flavour of his precum hitting my taste buds making me feel special, making me feel that I’m maybe definitely more than a friend to him.

“You wanna take me deeper? Think you can do it?” I nod, my mouth filled with his dick, I take him deeper and deeper, slowly beginning to deep throat him. Accidentally gaging around his length in the process.

“Your throats so tight baby. Im Gonna cum soon fucking swallow every drop of me.” I look up at him, he’s biting his lip as he spills his seed down my throat, I swallow it all, hungry for every bit of his cock, I whine slightly as he pulls out of my mouth, a tiny bit of his semen still dripping down my chin, I lick it up greedily.

“Good girl. Did you get what you wanted? Happy you could finally cum?”

I nod, now laying down with him and snuggling my head against his chest like a lost kitten.

“If you ever need help again don’t hesitate to call me baby girl.”

“Same for you Chris.”

#~skulla rxcks #stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #bang chan smut #bangchan smut #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #skz hard thoughts

571 notes · View notes

minimujina · 26 days ago

Text

“i was just reflecting on the notion of dying for love. i’d love to give it a try, if i ever got the chance.”

- lighter in a hangout event after you choose to watch a romantic movie where the two leads die for each other

“i’d like to give it a try too,” is a dialogue option.

then he says:

“…don’t say that, i might actually believe you. but let’s wait until we’re both tired of living first.”

. . .

this man quite literally just insinuated that should he ever fall in love with someone—should he ever fall in love with YOU—he would lay his life down for that person. he would lay his life down for YOU. we already could have guessed that, it’s surely not surprising, but this interaction basically told us that should you both choose it, YOU would be the person he falls in love with. perhaps you already are; perhaps he is already halfway there. perhaps lighter has already decided he would lay his life down for you, given the circumstance calls for it—actually, i am certain he has. i’m certain that whether he loves us romantically or not, he would die to protect us, as he would for anyone he holds close.

he did not have to say that second part of the first line. he could have left it at the fact that he was ruminating over the themes of the movie. but he didn’t—and because he didn’t, his words imply so much to the player, if you decide you want to interpret it that way😭

“i was just reflecting on the notion of dying for love. i’d love to give it a try, if i ever got the chance.”

— i would die for you. i think i could fall in love with you.

“don’t say that, i might actually believe you. but let’s wait until we’re both tired of living first.”

— i want to believe you. i already believe you.

that last sentence—let’s wait—is more of a joke to me than anything else; like haha if we’re going to fall in love and die for each other in a romantic fashion, let’s wait until we’re tired of living👅. but the fact that he said it at all basically affirms the previous implication—that he could and would fall in love with the proxy, and perhaps he is eager to. he wouldn’t make a half-joke like that if he weren’t serious about its implications.

i just fucking loved this dialogue scene. when you choose to watch the romantic movie it even gives you a trust boost with him. he likes romantic shit. he’s a fucking sappy boy and a loser. i’m so in love with him i hate him so much

#lighter x reader #zzz x reader #it’s so over for me #they gave us what we wanted SO good #mujimumbled #lighter #zzz #zzz lighter #zenless zone zero #lighter x you #lighter zzz #zzzero

582 notes · View notes

can-youimagine · 4 months ago

Text

Mix Up (Spencer Reid x Reader)

Summary: Spencer sends the wrong note.

TW: adult themes, embarrassment

Word Count: 1499

Masterlist

Everyone in the BAU contributed something to make the team feel like a family. Rossi opened his house and cooked for the team. Morgan and Hotch were always quick to praise a member for their accomplishments. Penelope always made sure that she had treats for anyone who might be having a bad day. You left notes for everyone. After each case, someone got a note, telling them how much you appreciated them and their contributions.

Last week, Hotch got a note. He tucked it into his bag with a smile before making sure to thank you and tell you how much you are appreciated on the team.

Today, it was Spencer’s turn to receive a note. The two of you had roomed together for this case, and you saw how much of a toll it took on him. He shouldn’t say he is surprised to see a note on his desk, but he is.

Spencer,

I can’t imagine how difficult this case was for you. You don’t have to be brave all the time, y’know. It’s okay for you to be scared. You are human, even if you know more than a computer. I am so proud of the work you accomplished and more than grateful for it. Know that I am proud of you, always.

You are the person I can trust with anything. You are the only member of the team who I worry about, even when we’re not out on a case. Not because I think you can’t handle yourself but because I know you’re worrying about all of us. Please, don’t let me be the cause of any of your stress.

I wish I could keep writing, but I can barely keep my eyes open.

With love,

(Y/N).

He smiles widely at the note, tucking it into his bag before anyone else has a chance to see it. After all, you didn’t write it for anyone else. You wrote it for him. You thought of him outside the case, and you thought that you wanted to make him feel good. The more he thinks about it, the more light-headed he becomes. He heads to the kitchenette, eager to get a cup of coffee and hide his growing blush.

You’ve left him five notes in the last year. Even if he didn’t have an eidetic memory, he is certain he would have each word memorized. He’s memorized every interaction you’ve had with them. Though, he knows these memories aren’t quite perfect. Every time a memory is retrieved, it becomes altered, and he has replayed every memory more times than he can count. He’s replayed them, he’s altered them, he’s even added to them.

If he could bring you just a fraction of the joy that you bring him, he would be able to rest easy. The way his heart flips every time he gets a note from you gives him the perfect idea of how to please you.

When he gets home, he sits at his desk, trying to come up with something to say to you, but nothing feels right. How is he supposed to tell you how much you mean to him without telling you just how much you mean to him? Finally, he picks up his pen, deciding that if he writes a draft of what he wants to say first, he’ll be able to write what he should say.

(Y/N),

You are more appreciated than you know. I love you more than you know. Yes, this case was hard for me, but the biggest challenge was sharing a room with you. It’s always tough to sleep on cases, but how am I supposed to get any sleep when I’m only a few feet from you? When, if you’d let me, I’d be able to sleep in your arms? When I’d be able to touch you, kiss you, fuck you?

God, it’s all I could think about. I shouldn’t even tell you what I was thinking. It’s not even just what I was thinking when we were on the case. I think about you constantly. I think of how kind you are, how much praise you give. I can’t help but wonder if you would receive praise just as well. If, when I tell you that you were made for my cock, you would fall apart. If I could, I would give you all the praise in the world just to see you break, watch you come undone, on my cock, on my fingers, on my tongue.

I know you would taste incredible. What I wouldn’t give to get even a taste. Though, I know I wouldn’t be able to stop at just a taste. I’d have to be selfish, and I know you wouldn’t complain.

Spencer slides his chair away from his desk. He quickly folds the paper and sets it aside. Now that that’s done, he gets to work on his actual letter. A much tamer, much safer for work, much friendlier letter that lets you know that you are appreciated.

Again, he folds the note, writing your name on the outside, and sets it aside.

When he leaves in the morning, he grabs the note off his desk, tucking it into his bag. He frowns, noticing that your car is already in the garage. He had hoped that he could leave the note on your desk as a surprise, but there’s no doubt that you’re already working on your files. He decides that he’ll drop it on your desk as he walks by then hide in the breakroom while you read it.

It’s not that he’s embarrassed by what he said, and he meant every word. It just feels like an invasion of privacy to watch you, and he’s not sure how he would be able to carry on with the day if he saw even the hint of a frown on your face.

The elevator opens, and he sets his plan into motion. He unpacks his bag, sliding the note into his hand before walking past your desk.

“Spencer, you dropped something,” you call, but he keeps walking, and out of the corner of his eye, he watches you open the note. That’s when he realizes his mistake. Your name is nowhere on the back of the paper. He panics but keeps walking. What is he supposed to say? “Sorry, that actually isn’t meant for you, I mean it is, but you definitely should not be reading that, in a completely normal not creepy way.”?

He focuses on his coffee, He wishes the ground would open up and swallow him whole. If hwatching the sugar dissolve. He’s lucky, he’ll be able to hide in here all day and never have to look at you again.

Spencer Reid is very rarely at a loss for words. He can almost always come up with something to say. Now, as he walks back into the bullpen, he has no clue what he can say to you.

It appears that he doesn’t have to. You aren’t at your desk anymore, much to Spencer’s relief. He turns his focus to the papers in front of him. Files that normally wouldn’t take him more than ten minutes are taking almost an hour. He doesn’t look up until he hears a door open.

Hotch’s office door.

He closes his eyes, praying there isn’t a case already. He doesn’t hear Hotch. Instead, he hears footsteps walk down the stairs and into the bullpen. Hesitantly, he opens his eyes. You are getting settled at your desk.

No, no, no, no, no.

You did not go to Hotch after reading his note. You couldn’t have. You would have talked to him before you got him fired, right?

“What was that about?” Emily asks you. You turn to answer, and Spencer is trying to listen, but Morgan grabs his attention first.

“What’s with you?”

“What do you mean?”

Morgan rolls his eyes. “I’m finishing these files faster than you.”

Spencer shrugs. “I’m just distracted, that’s all.”

“Hey, you know we’re here for you, right?”

“I know,” he answers, looking back at the file.

The day continues without you talking to him, and he sure as hell isn’t going to talk to you. Since Hotch hasn’t come down to fire him, Spencer assumes that his job is safe.

You get up around noon, stretching as you do. You grab your bag, a piece of paper between your fingers. You let it fall as you walk passed his desk. Spencer quickly picks it up, unfolding it.

Spencer,

Buy me dinner, and I’ll make sure you get something sweet.

He rereads the sentence over and over again. He’s convinced it’s some sort of joke, but he holds onto the hope that it isn’t and that he actually hasn’t fucked this up beyond belief.

When you come back, you glance at him. If he wasn’t a profiler, he’s not sure he would’ve caught it, but you seem nervous. He smiles to himself.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader

656 notes · View notes

nadvs · 21 days ago

Text

the act of unravelling (part four)

pairing rafe cameron x pogue! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary you never expected you’d get tangled up with a kook, least of all, rafe cameron. one night, you make a life-altering decision to get revenge on someone you both despise. after you vow to keep what happened a secret, your relationship begins to twist into something more.

tags very dark! violence, homicide, drug and alcohol use, parental neglect, mental illness, s/a, trauma. no smut.

< prev

You sit in your manager’s office, facing the bay window that overlooks the vast golf course. Your fingers are interlaced in an effort to hide the way your hands are trembling.

When Detective Brading asked for the space as you meekly followed him into the office, your boss shot you an unsettled glance, then agreed and left the room.

It throws you into a chilling realization. Everyone will give you that same condemning look when they find out the truth. You can’t imagine why else a cop unexpectedly came to your workplace and dragged you away – he must know what you’ve done.

The confidence you had last night that you’d get away with this crumbles when the door slams shut, making you flinch. Detective Brading expels a deep sigh. Why doesn’t he just arrest you and get it over with?

“Every second in a missing person’s case is precious,” the detective tells you. He sits on the edge of the desk instead of in the chair behind it, staring down at you. If he’s trying to scare you, it’s working.

Missing. At least that means they haven’t found Porter’s body.

“I hate to disrupt you like this at work.” His words mismatch his tone. “But I think you can help us.”

“How?” you ask.

“You said you were with Rafe for a couple hours the night Porter went missing,” he says. “Do you know where he went after he dropped you off?”

“Home,” you answer quickly.

“And you’re sure about that?”

“I’m…” You can’t be too defensive. It’ll raise red flags. “Pretty sure.”

The detective sighs again, as if you’re disappointing him with every word you say.

You glance at the framed photos of your boss and his family on the wall. He lives such a comfortable, normal life. You lost your chance at normalcy the second you told Rafe to pull the trigger.

“I’m sure it’s hard to hear this about a friend of yours, but we think he played a role in Porter’s disappearance,” he says. “And we need to ask you to talk to him about that night.”

“Me?”

“Yes. We’d have you wearing a wire.”

“What?” you say, floored. “Why me? We haven’t been hanging out that long. I don’t think he’d trust me enough to tell me anything.”

You hope you didn’t just discredit yourself or Rafe. But if they try to get one of Rafe’s other friends to trick him into a confession, you know for a fact that he wouldn't admit a thing. But you? You’re the only person he’d openly talk to about what really happened.

Your body is tight with anxiety. Maybe that’s why they’re asking you to do it. They think you know something and Rafe slipping up in a conversation with you is their meticulous way of proving it.

“I shouldn’t share this, but his other friends don’t believe that he’s entirely innocent,” Brading says. “You’re the only one we spoke to who does. And I think Rafe knows that you’re in his corner. I can tell you’re a good kid. Do the right thing and help us find Porter.”

You don’t buy it. You can’t ignore the instinct telling you that Brading is suspicious of you, too. He’s manipulating you. And for once, it feels good to be underestimated.

If you refuse to help, it could work against you. But if you agree, and you find a way to warn Rafe that you’re being listened to, that’d help your case. And his.

“I’d have eyes on you the entire time,” the detective explains. “He’s out on the golf course now. He came alone. Act like it’s just another day at work. Strike up conversation. See if he can open up about what he did after he dropped you off that night.”

“You want me to do this now?” you stutter.

“Like I said, every second is precious,” he says. “I know you’re caught off guard, but he’ll be, too. It’ll work to our advantage. I’d be in your ear, telling you what to say. You can handle this.”

This is a trick. It has to be. He cornered you because he suspects you, and now, he’s trying to outsmart you.

You mentally run through the possibilities. You can’t contact Rafe to warn him. But you could type a note out on your phone and find a way to flash it to him inconspicuously.

You’ll figure it out. And if you can’t, you’ll back out and say you couldn’t handle the pressure.

“Okay,” you agree. “I can do it.”

“Good.”

“I just need a second. Can I go to the restroom?”

“Yes. I have to ask you to leave your phone. We can’t take any risks.”

He assumes you’ll give Rafe a head’s up. Now you’re sure you’re a suspect, too. You try to look understanding as you hand him your phone.

·········

You’re seconds away from a panic attack as you pace around the private restroom, trying to figure out how the hell you can tip Rafe off. Maybe you should just back out.

Then, it comes to you.

The logbook tucked in your backpocket. The one Rafe teased you about and called your diary just last week. It’s your way out.

You uncap the pen hooked onto the book, open to an empty page, and write: wearing a wire. act innocent.

·········

Rafe lines up his club behind the white ball, his shoulders tight. He can’t shake off what happened last night.

You’re afraid of him. You pulled him in and pressed your lips against his, but then you shoved him away when he tried to hold you. And after you promised you wouldn’t screw him over, you left abruptly and took away the warmth he’s spent his whole life craving.

You’re supposed to have each other’s backs. He owes you and he wants to protect you, but you act like he’s a wild animal you can’t trust won’t bite you. He doesn’t know how to prove that you don’t need to be scared of him.

And it’s not just you expecting the worst of him. The way his own friends have been acting around him, shifty and tense, is pissing him off. He is guilty, but the fact that they have no faith in him digs a hole into his already overwhelming loneliness.

He’s out here on his own because he desperately needs to clear his head. He desperately needs to see you.

You drive the cart over the paved pathway to where Brading told you Rafe is. Your heart is racing, terrified this will go terribly wrong.

“You can still hear me clearly?” Brading says in your ear.

“Yes,” you say quietly. The earpiece he gave you is tiny and unnoticeable. The logbook you placed beside you after you drove off is the only chance you have of warning Rafe.

“Remember, act natural. Bring up Porter when it feels right,” Brading says. “Looks like he spotted you.”

You pull up to Rafe as he places a club in the bag hanging off the back of his cart. You remind yourself over and over that you have to speak about Porter in the present tense.

You can’t believe you’re here. Life twisted and turned and things you never imagined possible are your reality now.

There’s a genuinity in Rafe’s smile when your eyes meet his, the complete opposite of the pompous smirk you’ve seen over the years you’ve known him. If your heart wasn’t already pounding from adrenaline, it would be from the way he’s looking at you.

“Finally,” he says. “I was getting thirsty.”

“Don’t tell me you want a beer this early in the morning,” you sigh tensely, staying seated as you look over your shoulder to the cooler packed in the back. Brading is yards away, parked in a cart and posing as a golfer taking a break. Your breath is shaky.

“I’m kidding,” Rafe says, a little softer. He steps forward, hand on the roof of your cart, leaning closer to you. His eyes search your face. You’ve been aching to see him again. You wonder if he feels the same. “You mad at me or something?”

“Ask him why he’s alone,” the detective instructs you, jerking you out of your small moment of joy.

“I’m always mad at you,” you joke. “How come you’re alone out here? You’re always with your friends.”

“They’ve been pissing me off lately,” he mutters.

“Why?” Brading says. You plead with your eyes that Rafe just look down at your note, but he speaks before you can repeat the detective’s word.

“Why’d you run out last night?” His gaze trails down to your lips, his voice low. “Thought we were having a good time.”

It’s embarrassing to know you’re being listened to. And nerve-wracking that now the detective knows you’re more than just friends. Anyone could tell from Rafe’s suggestive tone that something happened.

You did suddenly leave the closet you’d led him to last night. Kissing him got to be overwhelming. But you can see in his gaze that it wasn’t just an impulsive, passion-filled makeout at a party. It meant something to him. And it’s a relief, because it meant something to you, too.

The chemistry you felt with him was always returned. It was just contained. Watered down. And now, whatever this is could end before it even begins. He could say one thing and get you both into trouble.

You regret agreeing to this. You need to get Rafe’s attention on the open book beside you before it’s too late.

“We were. I had to get back to my friends,” you say. “Why are yours pissing you off?”

“You know,” he says, glancing to the side. “They’re always lookin’ at me like I’m guilty.”

You can hear your pulse. You keep your eyes on Rafe, discreetly tapping on the page. He doesn’t notice. He doesn't follow your silent instructions.

“Are you?” Brading says. You repeat the two words, your throat dry.

Rafe’s brows furrow in confusion. He looks at you again. A tense silence blankets you.

“I wouldn’t tell anyone,” you say. “Not even my diary.”

Your heart lifts in all-consuming relief when Rafe catches your meaning. He looks down at the logbook and realization washes over his face.

You’re safe. The man in your ear isn’t going to discover a thing.

“What, you agree with them?” Rafe asks. His tone is casual, but his Adam’s apple bobs with a nervous swallow. Your eyes are locked knowingly, enveloped in the comfort that he knows to play along now.

“Tell him no,” Brading says.

“No,” you half-laugh. “I’m just saying, if there is something about that night that you didn’t tell me, you can trust that it’ll stay between us.”

“I was with you.”

“Ask him what he did after,” Brading instructs.

“Not all night,” you reply, cocking your head. “Where’d you go after you dropped me off?”

“Home. You know that,” he replies. “Even you’re doubting me now? Come on.”

“No,” you repeat. You reach for his hand, eyes trained on him. “I’m sorry. I just meant to say… if something happened, I wouldn’t judge you for it. You trust me, right?”

Rafe’s body buzzes at your touch. He does. He completely trusts you and it’s such a new, comforting feeling and he wishes you felt it for him, too.

“I do,” he says.

“You’d tell me?”

“I would.”

You nod reassuringly.

“I don’t know where Porter is,” Rafe says. “And I wish people would stop looking at me like I did something to him. I’m so sick of everyone expecting the worst of me.”

You’re not sure where his lie ends and the truth begins, but his fixed gaze is heavy with sincerity.

“We’re not getting anywhere with him,” Brading mutters. “End the conversation and meet me back at the office.”

“I don’t expect the worst of you,” you tell him.

His shoulders relax and you can tell your words did something to him. You nod again, a small, relieved smile pulling on your lips.

“I should get back to work,” you say. “You sure you don’t want anything to drink?”

“You’re just fishing for a tip now,” Rafe replies, smirking.

“Guilty.”

You both share a soft chuckle, the twisted joke behind your word choice not lost on either of you.

·········

The detective is tense when you see him again, a minor crack in his confident demeanor. It’s clear he thought he was going to catch you – both of you – today.

You thought you’d clear your and Rafe’s name through the monitored conversation, but Brading just looks angry now.

“You didn’t mention your relationship is more than friendly,” he says, arms crossed as he stands across from you in your boss’s office. He didn’t even care to sit down this time.

“Sorry. I didn’t know you needed to know that.”

“I need to know everything. You were withholding information,” he tells you. “And there’s something else you’re not telling me.”

The facade he was putting on has faded. He’s on edge and direct about the fact that he doesn’t trust a word out of your mouth.

“There isn’t,” you reply.

“Listen,” Brading says, his voice heavy and terse. “Porter’s family brought me into this because I’ve had a long, successful career of putting away scumbags like your boyfriend. I know your type. I know you’re covering for him. And you’re just making it worse for yourself by not telling me what you know.”

You don’t respond, staring at him blankly, your heart drumming in fear.

“I could make things easier for you if you just admit it,” he says. “A judge is likely to be lenient when someone helps with an investigation. I’d vouch for you.”

He’s intimidating. But you won’t give in. You never will.

“I don’t know anything,” you state.

His lips close into a firm line as he steps past you.

“I’ll see you soon,” Brading threatens before he opens the door.

·········

The lip of the sun still clings onto the ocean horizon as Rafe drives south. He was relieved when you texted him to come over tonight. He needs to see you. And he needs to talk about what happened this morning.

You answer your front door and Rafe takes in your gentle gaze and he swears that the pull he always felt towards you is a thousand times stronger because for once, you actually seem glad to see him.

“We can go to my room,” you say. You’ve been anxious to meet with him. You can’t control your impulse and you don’t see any reason to.

You press your cheek against his chest and wrap your arms around him the moment your bedroom door shuts behind you. His heart is thudding against your ear, his body hard and warm.

Rafe hesitantly cups your arms, not sure if you’ll push him away like you did last night.

“He just showed up at my work,” you say in a nervous rush, “and I thought if he heard you say you didn’t do anything, he’d back off, but then he said he knows I’m hiding something. He’s onto us. I don’t think we should talk to him without a lawyer. I can’t afford one. You have to help me pay for one.”

Rafe realizes you’re trembling beneath him. He doesn’t give a fuck that the man who scared you like this is a cop; if he was in front of him right now, he’d punch him.

“I will,” he says. “That was smart. The note.”

“I was so worried you wouldn’t see it.” You pull back, craning your neck to meet his eyes. “I know it was risky. You did a good job.”

He nods, gazing down at you. He’s not used to people telling him he did something right.

It’s unreal to be here, standing in your bedroom, past the guard you’ve forced him to stay behind for so long. It’s intimate seeing where you live, where you sleep, where you exist.

“He told me a judge would go easy on me if I helped with the case,” you admit, “but I have your back. And I don’t expect the worst of you, okay? I know you have my back, too.”

“You trust me?” Rafe asks, a hint of surprise in his deep voice. His hands drag down your arms, stopping at your wrists.

You wriggle against him, a subconscious test that you’re not trapped. He immediately releases you.

It makes his chest ache to know you expect him to harm you.

“I won’t hurt you,” he says.

Your body betrays you. Tears surface, hot and fast. The fresh wound lodges against your heart.

“It’s not…” You step back, knees wobbling. Your legs are suddenly desperate to rest and can’t hold you up any longer. “It’s not personal.”

You step away, sitting at the edge of your bed, head in your hands. You’ve barely been keeping it together, trying to outrun the shadow of pain that’s been haunting you. There’s no limit to what you’d give to forget what happened.

You brush your hands off your face when you hear the floorboards creak. Rafe leans in front of you, crouched at your feet. You watch his hands ghost over your calves.

It throws you for a loop, seeing him on your floor like this. For so long, all you assumed about him was that he thought he was above you. Now, he’s on his knees for you.

“Hey.” He says it in the same way he did after the gun went off. He doesn’t have to tell you to look at him. You know that’s what he wants.

You meet his eyes, and when you see the genuine concern swimming in the deep blue, all the strings hardly keeping you together unravel.

“It wasn’t about money,” you utter tearfully.

“What?”

“It wasn’t ever about money. He didn’t rip me off.” Your sobs start to come out as gasps. “He hurt me.”

Rafe’s veins turn to ice. He frantically searches your face for an explanation because no, it can’t be what he’s thinking.

“I passed out while he…” You shake your head, tears rolling over your cheeks as you shut your eyes. “It’s like my mind couldn’t take what he was doing to my body and I passed out. And then you came in…”

His breaths grow shallow. That’s why you were as angry as you were. Why you cried as hard as you did. Why you tense up and shove him away when he holds you.

When Rafe pushed Porter in that room, he never would have expected you’d be there, bearing the pain of something that fractured you. He’s furious, disgusted, in disbelief.

He sees now that you meant when you said you don’t regret killing him. The empty look on your face was never guilt. It was fear. Trauma.

“I know I shouldn’t have gone upstairs alone,” you whisper, eyes still closed. “I didn’t think–”

“Stop,” he says softly. His hands rest on your face, palms gently cupping your wet cheeks. Of all the things you thought you knew about him, you would’ve never expected him to be so tender. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

It settles your coiled heart hearing him dismiss the nauseating, intrusive thoughts you’ve had blaming yourself for what happened. You finally open your eyes to look at him again.

His eyes are glossy. He knows now and he’s looking at you with so much sympathy that your chest stutters with your gasps, stomach somehow twisting in both pain and relief.

For once, Rafe doesn’t say the first thing that pops into his head – that if he knew what Porter had done, he would have made him suffer, he would have tortured him, instead of shooting a single, life-ending bullet. Because there’s no point. You saved his life that night and he wishes he could’ve saved yours, but all he can do right now is tell you what he will do instead of what he would have done.

“I’m never going to let anyone hurt you again,” he murmurs. “I swear on my life. You’ll always be safe with me.”

He’s hesitant to startle you with his touch, but thankfully, you lean over and wrap your arms atop his shoulders and it’s so gratifying to know you’re using him to ground yourself.

Rafe holds you like he can’t get close enough. Because he can’t. Nothing he does now can take back what happened to you but everything he does moving forward will be to make sure you never experience a horror like that again.

His life is no longer a cycle of numbing thrills. He has a real reason to keep going now.

You inhale the comforting smell of his neck, your cheek pressed against his. You curl into him as you shake through your sobs.

“Nobody else knows,” you admit, voice muffled against his skin. “I didn’t think I’d tell.”

Even after what you’d done together, a bond that didn’t exist between you before digs its roots into you both. He’s holding you with softness you didn’t know he was capable of, after making a promise so sincere that you felt it in your core.

“You’re safe,” he whispers. And for the first time since that terrifying night, you feel it.

·········

It’s been five days since Brading accosted you at work. Even though he hasn’t bothered you since, and there haven’t been any public updates on the investigation, you’re on edge knowing that you and Rafe are suspects.

Since then, when you’re not working or hanging out with your friends, you’re with Rafe.

You still haven’t told the guys. You don’t know how you could possibly prove to them how good of a man Rafe actually is when you can’t tell them a single detail of what’s happened between you. You’d rather not have to explain yourself to them. Not yet.

Rafe doesn’t pester you about being your secret. As long as he’s something to you.

It’s dusk and you’re sitting on the quiet beach with him, cocooned in comfort and curled up on the sand, the setting sun playing across his handsome face.

Since your conversation in your bedroom, you haven’t spoken about the night that tied you two together.

But you have been speaking to each other like never before, holding onto the playfulness that always existed beneath your banter, allowing yourselves to talk and joke and kiss with no inhibitions. Except he doesn’t dare hold you without asking if he can first.

Tonight, as you sit side-by-side in the clouded orange and pink glow, Rafe feels a smile on his face, a real one, after not smiling for so many years. Being with you is the first time in a long time that he feels vaguely normal.

“It’s too bad,” you say, gazing at his dimples.

“What is?” Rafe rasps.

“That you’ve been keeping this smile from me for so long,” you say with a glint in your eyes. “Why were you so dedicated to hating me?”

“You hated me,” he scoffs with a smirk.

“You started it. All that Pogue/Kook crap.” You meant it as a joke, but Rafe’s smile fades. He looks ahead at the crashing waves. You hit a nerve.

“What?” you ask softly.

Rafe is consumed by his own emotions. He’s a victim to how demanding and overwhelming they can be. He’s been like that for most of his life.

Being with you has cleared some of the fog in his head. He knows now that he was desperate for some form of connection and that’s why he bought into the idea that being part of a group meant something.

If he had nothing of substance to him, nothing lovable, at least he had wealth in common with a social circle he always felt disjointed from. It was a ridiculous substitute for a sense of belonging.

“I was jealous,” he finally admits.

“Jealous?” you echo.

His jaw tenses. He can’t look at you.

“You’ve seen it yourself,” Rafe mutters. “When shit hit the fan, nobody backed me up. Nobody checks up on me. Nobody gives a damn. I don’t have any real friends. And you called your friends family. I don’t have that. I don’t have anybody. It’s why I sell coke. It’s pathetic, but at least I have something worth…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. The man who you thought had everything never did. He was in pain, lonely, selling drugs because at least it gave people something to like about him.

“Rafe,” you say quietly. He meets your gaze. You wish you could unsee the hurt in his eyes. “You have me. I care about you so much.”

You look at him in all the ways he’d always secretly hoped you would. The years of longing for you – the girl who always has a retort, who always keeps him on his toes, who always looks so frustratingly beautiful – all those daydreams don’t come close to how it actually feels to have you like this.

He wonders if you have any idea of all the ways you can break him.

“Yeah?” is all he can mumble, his throat tight.

You nod, finding his hand and pulling it to your chest. He’s not sure if you meant to press him up against where he can feel your pulse, but he feels the rhythmic thudding coming from beneath your skin, and God, is it insane that he feels like he lives for your heartbeat?

He thought he was fine living an empty life. But he’s gotten a taste of being wrapped up in you and he doesn’t want to lose it. Ever.

“You keep me safe,” you say softly. “Let me do the same for you in my own way, alright?”

He nods, blinking away tears. Your heart breaks and you lean forward, losing yourself in his kiss. His lips are soft and gentle, pushing against yours with a soft fragility.

“Are you okay?” you whisper against his cheek. He hasn’t been okay in so long. But this is the closest to it he’s ever gotten. He doesn’t want to hide you. He wants everyone to see you chose him.

“Do you want to go to that bonfire tonight?” he asks.

There’s a party at the beach you spoke at a couple of weeks ago, back when Rafe stopped you after you bought a joint from Porter.

“Together?” you ask. He nods, uncertainty pinching his face. You can tell he’s expecting you to say no. As if you’re ashamed of him.

You’re almost sure your friends won’t be there. They asked you to hang out at Pope’s tonight and you declined and said you’d stay home. They probably won’t be at the bonfire.

Either way, you’re willing to take the risk. Rafe is worth it.

·········

Gossip spreads like weeds. You can tell by how people stare at you when you arrive with Rafe that his name has been in everyone’s mouths, whispering conspiracies about what he did to Porter. You know your name will start to come up in those conversations, too.

“So, it’s true,” one of his buddies says when he sees you cupping Rafe’s bicep as you join the group, the bonfire crackling. “You’re really messing with a Pogue.”

“That’ll be the last time you call her that, got it?” Rafe says sharply. His friend scoffs a laugh, putting his hands up in feigned surrender, his beer bottle sloshing.

Rafe leans to mumble in your ear, “Do you want a drink?”

“Yeah,” you say, eager to take the edge off.

You swallow the bitterness of the drink Rafe picks up for you, staring ahead at the ocean, thinking about how somewhere in the vast expanse, Porter’s body is lying at the bottom.

“Man, it’s weird just… continuing to live life, isn’t it?”

You look up to see a man standing beside you. He’s a friend of the person you killed. You recognize him from the day at the club when Porter called you over. You still get shivers remembering his smile.

“What do you mean?” you mumble.

“Porter. He’s just gone,” he continues. There’s a slur in his words. He’s drunk. “He’s gotta be… you know. There’s no other explanation.”

You tighten your grip on Rafe’s arm, but he doesn’t notice, lost in conversation with one of his buddies.

“Yeah,” you offer. “It’s sad.”

“He told me he liked you,” he says with a raised brow. “He had a huge crush on you.”

You can taste bile on your tongue. You look up at Rafe, whose attention is on your conversation now. His stare is hard, his nostrils flared in anger.

“I didn’t know,” you say simply.

“Really?” he laughs. “He said you were playing hard to get.”

His vile words make your breath hitch.

The flame in Rafe rises so fast that within two seconds, he swings a punch. And suddenly, he’s leaning over, knuckles ramming into the idiot’s face as he lies on the sand, unleashing the rage of what happened to you and the urge to take your pain away.

He could kill him.

Rafe feels hands at the crooks of his shoulders pulling him back. He struggles to get on his feet, his friends’ words overlapping as they try to calm him down. He’s breathless, looking up to meet your eyes, taking in how completely lost and anguished you look.

He roughly pushes his friends off as he stumbles towards you, his shaking hands resting on your shoulders.

“Let’s go,” he says to you, looking at you like you’re the only one here.

“You’re such an asshole!” the guy on the ground shouts.

Rafe ignores him, his hand on the small of your back as he leads you away from the crowd. You’re trembling, thrown back to that night, thrown back to being called a tease, thrown back to being held down.

You reach the parking lot, not nearly far enough from the loud crowd, still hearing the crackling of the fire, when your knees buckle.

Your heart is pounding so hard that you’re afraid it’s going to give out. But Rafe holds you up as you stand between parked cars, looking at you with desperation.

“Baby, it’s okay,” he whispers. “You’re okay.”

You find strength as you pull your arms up around his shoulders. He holds you tightly, firm and still against your shaking body.

You’re slowly finding peace.

Then you hear JJ’s voice mutter, “What the hell?”

You pull back, spotting him a few feet away with Pope and John B getting out of the car, looking at you with an expression you can only describe as appalled. You don’t have words. You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

Blistering sirens reverberate through you. They get so loud so fast that you don’t realize you’ve lost contact with Rafe until a police car jolts to a stop a few feet away from you.

This has to be a nightmare.

Detective Brading swings open the door, followed by another cop, rushing towards you and Rafe. He’s carrying handcuffs. You might lose consciousness.

“Knew this day was coming, didn’t you?” Brading says before he grips Rafe’s wrist, pushing him up against the nearest car.

Rafe struggles, but Brading slams him against the hood of the car so hard that you hear the thud of his skull against the metal.

“Stop! You can’t hurt him like that!” you cry. The other police officer steps in front of you, pushing you back. You expect him to handcuff you, too. He doesn’t.

You look around you in terrified desperation as if someone can help. The crowd has quickly come closer, watching in awe, as if you and Rafe’s lives aren’t being pulled apart for everyone to see.

You meet Rafe’s frightened gaze as the side of his face presses against the car. Brading flatly recites his rights, handcuffing him, ignoring you as you beg that he tell you why he’s being arrested, that he stop hurting him.

Rafe doesn’t say a word until you whimper in pain and plead to the officer keeping you back to stop holding so tight. He tries to charge forward, demanding he take his hands off of you, earning him another rough push against the car.

Brading hauls him away and you try to follow, but the other officer keeps you back, gripping you so hard that it reminds you of Porter all over again.

“You want to get arrested, too?” he mutters. Your muscles give in, losing tension. You still don’t understand why Rafe’s being arrested and you’re not.

“No. Sorry. I’ll stop,” you say weakly. “Where’s he being taken?”

The officer doesn’t believe you at first, but eventually, he loosens his grip.

“The county jail,” he says, looking past your shoulder as the car door shuts.

Then, they leave, and you’re in front of the crowd, in front of your friends, frozen and speechless.

·········

Your mouth is dry as you wait in the lobby of the quiet jail. They won’t give you any information. Nothing about what the charge is, how long Rafe will be here, if he’ll be given bail. It’s been an hour.

You hold JJ’s car keys in your shaking hands. You were frantic when you begged him to lend you his car, promising you’d take care of it.

He confusedly agreed and you left immediately, not exchanging any other words, following the police car just in case the officer lied to you about where they were going.

Your phone is dead and your connection to the outside world is dead with it.

Your stomach drops when you spot Brading exit through a door behind the processing desk.

“What’s happening?” you ask. “Where is he? Is he okay?”

He stiffly cuts through the lobby, pushing open the front door, letting it swing behind him. You grunt as the door hits your palms.

“I suggest you go home,” Brading mutters as you trail him into the dark parking lot. “I can charge you for assault against a police officer if you don’t stop harassing me.”

“Please. I just want to know,” you plead. “Nobody will tell me anything.”

You’re sure he’s getting a power trip out of this. You didn’t tell him what he wanted to know. Now, he won’t tell you.

“Please,” you repeat, feeling utterly powerless. The detective stops abruptly, facing you, his face in a scowl.

“I’m ordering you to go home,” he says sharply.

“Brading?” someone calls behind him.

Within a matter of seconds, you hear something you never thought you’d hear again. The single and unmistakable blow of a gunshot.

·········

You’re in disbelief, staring ahead at the stranger sitting in your living room as her gaze travels between you and your parents. The woman introduced herself as an agent, flashing a shiny badge before she came inside.

Last night, you gave the cops a statement about what had happened in the parking lot. A man was out there, agitated and waiting for Brading. He shot him and looked you dead in the eyes before another man shouted for him to get down on the ground.

He drove away, tires screeching, as the officer who’d rushed out of the jail shot at the car. You remember dropping to the cold concrete, being interrogated by a detective, and eventually being ordered to go home and not tell a soul what you’d seen.

You’re still terrified, unable to accept what your life has become and how the domino effect you’ve been thrust into could be so vicious.

“Detective Brading is in critical condition,” the woman says, “but he was able to identify the man who shot him.”

“What about Rafe?” you ask. “Is he okay?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know who that is.”

You sniffle your tears, shaking your head in disbelief. You still haven’t been given any updates on him.

“I’m here because the man from last night,” she continues, “is part of a family that has dangerous affiliations. Brading has a history of putting away high-profile criminals, and he arrested the shooter’s brother. His brother recently passed away in prison and… he tracked Brading down to make him pay. He’s still at large. According to your statement, he saw you, is that right?”

You nod anxiously, waiting for her to get to her point. By now, you have enough trauma to last you ten lifetimes.

Then, she tells you that for you and your parents’ safety, you’ll need to be put into witness protection and that you’ll be relocated and given new identities immediately.

When you ask what you’re supposed to say to the people you’re leaving behind, she’s eerily calm as she tells you, “Nothing. I’m sorry, but there’s no way you can contact anyone you know. Everyone will be under the impression that you’ve died.”

·········

You consumed Rafe’s thoughts as he sat in the county jail cell. He didn’t focus on how suffocating the room was, or how badly his wrists burned from the handcuffs, or what his future was going to look like.

He thought about you, how completely and deliberately you were in his corner, how all the embarrassment of being arrested in front of all those people was erased when you yelled in his defense.

The only voice in the crowd standing up for him, while everyone else watched, was yours. He has never cared about someone more than himself. You changed that.

That’s why when he receives the news that you passed away in an accident, he snaps.

next >

note sorry for the drama… now i can finally share that this inspired this part of the story 🤭

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and reader #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic

440 notes · View notes

thelastsequence · 2 months ago

Text

My helpful sister

Sub M!Reader x tripleS Xinyu

Tags: Incest (oops), Pegging (oops), Fluff? (I tried my best)

3k words

“Noona… can I come in? I hope you’re not busy or anything.” I waited outside my older sister’s room, nervously pacing about. Without warning, the door opened and my sister’s tall frame came into view.

“What’s the matter? Xinyu-noona is here to help!” She placed a hand on my shoulder, her slender fingers gently gripping me.

“Noona, it’s kinda… embarrassing. I don’t want anyone else to hear, so…”

“Ah, come in then. I wonder what troubles my baby brother is facing this time.” She giggled which made me smile sheepishly. Xinyu was three years older than me and it showed, as she was taller than me too. As our parents were usually overseas for work, she was the one who had taken care of me during our teenage years and our bond was closer than that of other siblings.

“Before I say anything, promise me you won’t laugh okay? I’m serious…”

“Yah, when have I ever laughed at you when you needed my help? Do you really think I’d do that to you?” She pouted her lips and pretended to act hurt, which made me chuckle a little.

“C’mon noona, I know you won’t but… it’s really REALLY embarrassing, and I don’t know who else to ask.”

She sat on her bed and motioned for me to sit next to her, which I obliged. She put her shoulder around me and turned to face me.

“You know you can tell me anything right? Spill the beans!”

“Here goes nothing… Noona, you know me and my girlfriend have been dating for a while now and… we’re starting to do stuff in the bedroom…”

“WOAHHH! My baby brother is getting laid?!”

I playfully shoved her, feeling my face getting hotter as a result of having to tell my sister about my sex life.

“Shut up! We’ve… done the normal stuff so far… but the other day she asked me if I wanted to try… pegging.”

“Pegging?! Damn, your girlfriend sure is freaky.”

“The thing is, she seems really into it, but obviously, I don’t have any experience with this kinda stuff, so… I was wondering if you could, y’know, help me out here.”

Xinyu’s eyes widened in shock. “Huh?!”

“Look, I don’t trust the internet with this because it’s really subjective for everyone, and I also don’t wanna get caught researching on how to get pegged y’know. And besides… I thought that you understand me the best, so… you’d be able to help me out.”

My sister stared at me with a smirk, gears spinning in her head. I wouldn’t know it yet, but she was forming a plan in her head.

“Noona, I don’t wanna disappoint my girlfriend, okay? I don’t wanna look like a fool in front of her. Can you help me, pleaseee?” Even though it was super cringey, I put on my Puss in Boots face which was my secret weapon and my sister’s weakness. I could see her gaze soften and her grip on my shoulder loosened a little.

“Okay, okay, of course I’ll help my baby brother. So… what do you know about pegging?”

“I don’t really understand what this article is saying…” I showed her an article about pegging on my phone.

She shook her head in mock disappointment. “Tsk tsk, that’s not how you wanna do it. How about… some hands-on experience?”

I looked at her quizzically, not sure what she meant. She got up and walked over to her white bedside table, and from a drawer she pulled out something I had never seen before: a long, pink plastic dildo with a harness and a small transparent bottle of what I assumed was lube.

“Noona, is that…”

She nodded with a smile on her face and tossed the items over to me.

“This is gonna be so fun, baby brother.” She closed the distance between us, towering over me as I sat on her bed with my tail between my legs.

“Noona, what do you mean?”

“You know what I mean, don’t play dumb.” She playfully poked my shoulder. I looked at her confused, not knowing where she was headed with this.

“I’m gonna peg you, baby brother.”

Huh?!

All sorts of thoughts raced through my head. My own sister wanted to peg me?! No way I had heard that correctly, Xinyu would never say something like that to me… right?

“W-what? Are you crazy?” I protested incredulously.

“Look, hear me out,” she sat next to me on her bed. “It’s better for me to show you how it really is, rather than just some articles or videos. After all, some practical experience is definitely better right?” Her hand reached onto my thigh, fingers tracing circles near my crotch. My mind told me to get up and run away, that this was all sorts of wrong, that I shouldn’t be doing this with my own older sister. But the growing hardness in my pants convinced me otherwise, egged on by Xinyu’s fingers creeping closer and closer towards it.

“Noona, a-are you sure? This seems kinda wrong… We’re siblings after all.”

Hearing that, her other hand gently caressed my cheek and she turned my head to face her. There was a glint of lust in her eyes masked by the usual caring demeanour that she carried around me.

“Baby boy… don’t worry, don’t you trust your noona? I’m gonna take good care of you, okay? And besides, we’re not having real sex, so it’s not anything weird.”

Without me realising, her hand had inched its way onto my cock, rubbing my tip at an agonising pace. My breath quickened and I leaned into her, my face meeting her collarbone. Her scent intoxicated me, the whole situation driving me wild.

“Noona, are you sure?” I looked up at her, not knowing what to do.

Her piercing grey eyes met my wavering gaze and she nodded assuringly. She leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

“Baby boy… Noona loves you so much. I wouldn’t let you get hurt, okay?”

I nodded and hesitantly wrapped my arms around her, softly whispering, “O-okay, let’s do it noona. I… I love you too.”

She ruffled my hair lovingly, with her other hand still gently palming my cock. “Good boy… I’ll need you to listen to noona, okay?”

I nodded shyly, placing all my trust in her. My mind was racing as the boundaries between my sister and I started to disappear.

“Pull down your pants for me.”

Turning red, I obediently reached down and unbuttoned my cargo pants, pulling them down. My stiff erection was now straining against the waistband of my Calvin Klein boxers. I looked up to see Xinyu staring hungrily at my crotch which only made me more embarrassed.

“Holy fuck, I didn’t know my baby brother was packing a monster. Your girlfriend’s so lucky.”

I blushed at her praise, feeling a twisted sense of happiness that my sister was complimenting my cock. Her fingers crept into my boxers, slowly pulling the waistband down and freeing my raging boner.

“Fuck!” she exclaimed at the sight of my cock standing proudly for her. She immediately latched onto it and started to stroke me gently.

“Noona… that feels so good…”

She smiled at me while quickening her pace, her fingers deftly working my cock. Unable to hold it in any longer, I let out a soft moan and rested my head on her collarbone again.

“Mmm, someone’s getting worked up. Time for the real deal…” Her fingers left my crotch and instead went to the toys that were sitting on her bed.

“So, the first thing is to make sure that you use a lot of lube, otherwise it’s gonna hurt.” Her long, deft fingers unscrewed the bottlecap and slathered the pink toy with lube. I gawked at her actions, feeling the heat rise inside my body. Xinyu’s fingers expertly coated the dildo with the lube until it was glistening.

“Next, you need to relax and take deep breaths. If you don’t relax, it’s not gonna feel good, understand?” She moved closer towards me and placed a hand on my chest, feeling my quickening heartbeat. Relax, she whispered, and I felt a strange feeling bubbling inside me.

“Noona, I can’t… I’m nervous…”

“It’s okay, noona will take care of you. Just breathe in, breathe out… that’s it…”

Xinyu leaned forward and gave me a sudden peck on my cheek in an attempt to soothe me. How was I supposed to calm down now?

I nodded, my cheeks a faint shade of red, and tried my best to calm down for her. I trusted my sister to take care of me throughout this whole process, just like she’d done for basically my entire life.

“Here comes the fun part. I want you to get on all fours for noona.” She said with a devious smirk.

My body was now moving on its own; I felt like I was an outsider watching from above. Obediently, I lay down on Xinyu’s bed, waiting with bated breath. She got up behind me, her gentle hands holding my waist firmly.

“Fuck, I never knew you had such a cute ass.” She said with a giggle. Even though she couldn’t see it, I blushed hard and muttered out a solitary thanks.

“Now just relax. Noona’s in control now.”

I gulped hearing that, but I knew Xinyu would be gentle with me. Deep down, I also knew our relationship as brother and sister would never be the same again. There was no going back now.

She pulled my boxers all the way down and poured more lube on my now-exposed hole, which me made gasp in shock. The cold liquid combined with her finger probing at my sensitive spot was a completely new sensation. I could hear her breaths grow quicker in anticipation.

“Here it comes, baby brother.”

I felt the pressure of the toy at my entrance, straining against it. I gasped at this new feeling, pleasurable but also slightly uncomfortable. Xinyu’s hand gripped my waist harder. Her soft lips brushed against my cheek, a comforting gesture from the sister that I loved dearly.

The dildo strained a little more against me, before the head pushed into my hole. My mind went blank with both pain and pleasure and I moaned out loud. My sister patted my head as she pushed further into me, the plastic toy carving its way into my butt causing all sorts of new sensations. I moaned louder again, all thoughts escaping from my head except that of my sister and how she was completely in control of me right now.

“Good boy… You took it so well.”

I could only let out a timid mmph, the fullness of her strap turning my brain to mush. She remained in the same position, hands on my back and waist, her strap still lodged snugly inside me.

“I’m gonna leave it in you for a bit, let you get used to it, okay?”

It felt like an eternity, with Xinyu buried inside me, but in reality only about twenty seconds had passed.

“Gonna pull out now…”

Her nails dug into my skin and I whimpered, as she slowly pulled herself out of me. My knees buckled with the intensity of this new sensation and I couldn’t control my moans again. With a pop, Xinyu pulled the toy out and gave my butt a light spank.

“Good boy… that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“N-no, noona…” I muttered weakly. I felt the coldness of more lube on my now-loosened hole, my sister’s warm hands holding me in place. Once again, her strap probed my entrance before sliding in, this time with less resistance than before.

I let out a guttural moan as Xinyu penetrated me again. My knees grew weak and my body sank to the bed, with my hands clinging onto her bedsheet for dear life.

“Noonaaaa… nghhh…”

It felt as if Xinyu’s strap was rearranging my insides with every thrust of her hips. Her hands tightened their grip on my waist, holding me steady as she started to gain a rhythm.

“Mmm, you look so cute on all fours for noona.”

I gasped as she picked up the pace, thrusting back and forth with more speed and less grace. Her room was filled with the slap-slap sounds of skin-on-skin and my needy, uncontrollable moans.

I started feeling lightheaded and overwhelmed with the pleasure my sister was giving me, even drooling a bit onto her pillow. A sudden harsh spank jolted me back to life as Xinyu pounded me with greater intensity.

“Your girlfriend’s so lucky to have you, you know that? I’m so jealous of her, if only I could have you all for myself…” My lust-filled fuzzy mind struggled to comprehend that last sentence, although it made me do a double take at my sister’s words.

“Noona… I… I’m close…” I moaned out weakly.

“Don’t touch yourself okay, just let it come naturally. Good boy…”

Hearing that I was reaching my climax, Xinyu picked up the pace and started pounding me faster and faster, driving me to the edge of my orgasm. I could feel her nails dig into my skin and I knew it was gonna leave a mark later. Not that I minded, of course.

It was a weird feeling, my first time that I would cum hands-free. I didn’t even know if I could do it, but as Xinyu repeatedly found my prostate, I knew it was inevitable.

“Noona… I’m gonna… gonna…” I couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Yes, cum for me, baby… show noona how much you love her…” Xinyu whispered sultrily in my ear.

A sharp spank sent me over the edge, and I shot streak after streak of cum onto her bedsheet. My knees slumped forward, all my energy spent. I could hear Xinyu gasp, followed by a cute giggle and another sudden spank.

“Oh my god… noona… that was so good.”

She gently ruffled my hair and slowly pulled her strap out of my ass, which sent me squirming once again. I turned around around to face her, panting, before leaning in for a hug. She wrapped me in her warm, loving embrace; it was as if we hadn’t just engaged in borderline incest.

“I know, baby brother, noona loved it too.” she said with a giggle. “Let’s do it again sometime.”

I blushed as this was just supposed to be “practice” for me with my girlfriend, but a part of me wanted this to be a more regular thing.

I shyly nodded in agreement, hugging her tighter in a mixture of embarrassment and forbidden desire.

Her fingers lifted my chin up and I met her piercing gaze. She spoke in a low tone, “Baby brother, can you promise noona one thing? If you wanna do this more, you’ve gotta…”

I gulped nervously, not knowing what rule or condition she was going to make.

“You’ve gotta break up with your girlfriend.”

My jaw dropped in shock. Why would my loving sister want me to break up with my girlfriend, just for this? My mind was a blur of emotions, I struggled to form a cohesive thought.

“Noona… why? I lo-” I was about to say “love”, but I realised deep down that my feelings for my girlfriend were nothing compared to what I felt for Xinyu.

“Look, which girl is going to want a guy that fucks his sister? And besides…” she traced my thigh with a solitary finger, “You’re mine now. You’re noona’s baby boy forever, and no girl is gonna take you away from me. I love you more than any other girl will, do you understand that?”

She gently stroked my cheek with her other hand, now speaking in a softer tone. “Noona loves you so much. I wanna take care of you forever. Please?”

My heart was overwhelmed with emotions, but my instinct told me to say yes, to give in to my sister that had loved me tenderly her whole life. No matter how wrong or forbidden it was, it was right to the two of us. I reached up to grasp her hand, nodding with a tentative smile on my face.

“O-okay, I’ll break up with her noona. I… I only want you too.”

Time seemed to slow down as Xinyu’s angelic face moved closer towards me. Leaning in for a kiss. My breath caught in my throat as I didn’t know what to do. I just closed my eyes, letting my body react on its own. Her soft lips met mine, hitting me with the taste of strawberry lip gloss. Her tongue made its way into my mouth, dominating mine as our tongues slid over each others’. I moaned softly as she continued to kiss me passionately, and I submitted to her. I sunk down into her bed and relaxed, as I let her take charge of the kiss. She gave my lower lip a gentle nibble, the sensation of it making me want her even more.

After a while, Xinyu backed away from the kiss, a wide smile on her lips. Seeing how happy she was, I couldn’t help but feel the same way.

“So… baby brother, ready for round 2?”

----

Hi everyone! So sorry for disappearing, my work has taken up almost all of my time for the past few months. I really appreciate everyone who’s enjoyed my first two fics (part three will come soon, I promise). It still feels surreal that there are people out there who are looking forward to my work, I won’t disappoint you all! I really hope you enjoyed this piece :3 see you around!!

#thelastsequence #kpop smut #kpop girl group smut #kpop male reader smut #triples smut #xinyu smut

425 notes · View notes

athenamikaelson · 3 months ago

Text

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 17

Word Count- 4.3k

Warnings-swearing, pain

a/n- idk if i like this one

“Say something please, Theo,” I beg my little brother as he stares emotionlessly at his hands.

When I began telling my brother about how his father wasn’t my father I expected my loud and obnoxious little brother to make snarky comments or even yell at me. But I didn’t realize just how much worse him not saying anything would be.

“What do you want me to say, Y/n? What could I possibly say in this situation,” Theo looks about to me with tears building in his dark eyes and I have to swallow the sob that is building in my throat.

Theo stands up and I mimic his actions. I watch wordlessly as my brother runs a hand roughly through his hair and over his face in exasperation.

“Three months! Really Y/n? You knew this for three months and you didn’t tell me. Why,” Theo whips around to me and he shakes his head, “I know I’m kind of a dick but I thought you trusted me.”

I quickly shake my hands and try to step closer to him but he instantly backs away. Memories of the night my mother told me this news flash in my mind as I realize Theo is reacting practically the same way I did.

I stop walking, “Theo of course I trust you.”

Theo shakes his head as if he doesn’t believe me, “Then why keep this from me!? Did you think I couldn’t handle it or,” His voice cracks and tears fall down my cheeks, “Did you think I wouldn’t love you the same? Do you really think that low of me?”

I stare at my brother wordlessly and sit back down at the kitchen table. I press my head into my hands and let out a sigh.

“Is that what it is? Did you really think that, what? I’d hate you or something?”

“I don’t know, Theo. Okay. I don’t…I just…I don’t know.”

My answer doesn’t seem to be enough for my brother because he lets out a sound of annoyance.

“Fine. If you don’t have an answer for me then I’ll just leave you alone,” I hear his retreating footsteps and I quickly pick up my head.

“I was scared you’d throw me away just like he did,” My voice comes out shaky and I see Theo stop and his back straighten, “I thought that…if the man that raised me couldn’t love me why should anyone else? I love you, Theo. I just didn’t want to lose you too.”

My blurry vision focuses slightly as I see Theo's figure turn around and make his way over to me. Within a second my brother is grabbing me and pulling me into him.

“You could never lose me, you idiot. I mean, you’re the one who has called me a roach on multiple occasions,” Theo pulls back and his teary eyes meet mine, “I could never hate you either. When Dad left… it wasn’t Mom who stepped up and took his place, it was you. When Mom was always away at work, who was the one who would make sure I got to practice on time, did my homework, and made sure I was always fed? You, Y/n. It was you. When Mom and Dad didn’t want to raise me, you did. I’m who I am because you raised me this way. I owe everything to you.”

I finally let out my sob as I pulled my brother back into me.

“And besides,” My brother pats my head like a dog as he hugs me, “Every Batman needs their Robin,” Theo pulls back and then raises an eyebrow at me, “Just so we’re on the same page, I’m Batman. You Robin.”

I let out a shaky laugh as I nod, “I can live with that.”

—-

3rd Person POV

“Okay, so we all know the plan now,” Damon looks to Elena, Stefan, and Rebekah as they all nod.

“We dagger Mikael to get Klaus into town, and then Mikael kills Klaus,” Elena reminds everyone.

Rebekah frowns deeply at the plan but nods nevertheless.

“Wait, where’s the other half of you,” Damon points to Elena who rolls her eyes.

“Y/n’s with her brother doing some sibling bonding time. And besides I don’t want her involved in this.”

Damon frowns, “Why the hell not?”

“Because whenever Y/N gets involved in supernatural business it gets her hurt. And with Klaus already terrorizing her I don’t want him using her as leverage. Thankfully enough Y/n already said she’s not going to the dance.”

“Fine. Whatever,” Damon huffs as he downs his drink.

“Fine by me,” Stefan says, “Fewer people to screw this up.”

—

“Ho! Why haven’t you been answering my calls and texts.”

I sigh into my phone as Caroline Forbes bites my head off over the phone, “Hello to you too, Care. How can I help you on this splendid Saturday?”

I hear Caroline yell at some people around her and I laugh to myself.

“Elena’s getting ready with Bonnie’s help, so I thought I’d let you know you and I are getting ready together at your place.”

I freeze up at Caroline’s words and my brother who is glaring at me for pausing the video game we are currently playing raises an eyebrow in question, “Getting ready for what?”

I hear the line go silent for a moment and wonder if the blonde vampire is having a stroke, “The homecoming dance! Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n don’t you dare tell me you’re not going tonight.”

“I’m not going tonight.”

“I’m not accepting that as an answer!”

“Well, I’m sorry Caroline but I’m putting my foot down. I’m not going, Theo and I are sibling bonding.”

“Forget Theo! What about Caroline and Y/n bonding time?!”

I laugh at her dramatics, “We can bond tomorrow.”

“Y/n I can’t-’’

“I think you’re cutting out,” I gesture to Theo and he makes static noises with his mouth, “Oh would you look at that! Well bye! Have a fun time!”

I quickly hang up the phone before my blonde friend can harass me more and I look over to my brother who is laughing his ass off.

“Thanks for the help,” I put my fist up and he bumps it with his own.

“Happy to help. Now can we please play so I can kick your ass,” Theo says as he gestures to his Xbox.

I roll my eyes at him and grab my remote, “The only one getting their ass kicked here is you, dumbass.”

“Ya, whatever you say nerd.”

—

“You’re going to hate me,” I turn around at my brother’s comment and see him standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a sheepish look.

I put the piece of pizza I’m currently eating down on my plate and let out a deep sigh, “What did you do?”

“Well you know how I’ve been getting Tyler to warm up to me so that he’ll put me on Varisty,” Theo says in a hopeful but also weary tone.

“I recall…”

“Well, Tyler just called me and said he’d talk to the coach and get me that varsity jacket on one condition.”

I look at my brother and narrow my eyes, “What did you do?”

“He kinda told me to make sure you come to the homecoming dance tonight to appease Caroline and I told him you’d go,” Theo quickly spits out his sentence and we stare blankly at each other for a moment.

I grab my pizza again and take a slow bite as Theo stares at me with wide eyes wondering what I’m going to do.

“Looks like you aren’t making varsity,” I simply say as I grab my plate and walk around my brother and towards the living room.

I hear my brother’s footsteps behind me, “Come on Y/n! Please do this for your favorite brother.”

“You’re my only brother,” I respond back blankly.

“I mean technically we don’t really know that,” He says out loud and I turn around and glare at him.

` He raises his hands quickly and mumbles a sorry.

“Please Y/n! You know how hard I’ve been working for this. Just show up and then we can leave after Caroline sees you!’’

“You know most people get their varsity spots because they show good athleticism. Not because they like to sweet talk the captain,” I stop as Theo runs in front of me.

“You know a pretty face like mine can’t work too hard!”

I roll my eyes at his comment and move around him. He doesn’t say anything and for a second I think he’s dropped it.

“I just,” My brother’s shaky voice makes me turn around. And I roll my eyes as I see him wiping a fake tear off his face, “I just really wanted this you know,” His fake sad voice is making a migraine start to form, “After finding out my sister isn’t my father’s child I just needed some good news.”

Well played, Theodore.

“I hate you,” I growl at my brother and his “sad” face instantly brightens.

“So you’ll go?!”

I close my eyes and sigh, “We go in, find Caroline, say hi, and then leave,” I point at him, “Got it?”

Theo practically starts hopping in excitement, “Got it!”

My brother quickly walks past me and I try to fight back a laugh as he starts talking to himself about what color tie he’s going to match to his eyes.

I hear Theo’s door shut and slowly make my way to my room. I throw myself on my bed and then finish my slice of pizza. Eyeing my closet the entire time. What the actual hell am I going to wear?

I stand up and quickly eye the bags upon bags of designer clothing that Alastair had gotten me for my birthday. Ever since I found out about his betrayal I haven’t touched anything he had got for me. I’ve tried to give them back to him on the many occasions in which he just “accidentally” bumps into me. But he always refuses and says they’re mine to keep. Asshole. Scratch that, Rich asshole.

I rummage through the clothes I have in my closet and frown when all I come across are, in Theo’s words, “clothes that not even a dead nerd would be seen in.” I pick up the dress I wore to the tea party in which Elijah threatened Damon but quickly put it back when I realize Theo’s words were right. I do dress like a nerd.

I’m about to throw in the towel and tell Theo to suck it up when something on my top shelf catches my eye. I reach up and grab the clothing box and instantly blush when I remember what’s inside. The dress Caroline bought for me. The very tiny dress Caroline bought for me. I hold the box in my hands and eye it for a moment.

“Am I really going to do this?”

I close my eyes and rip off the ribbon and open the box, “Fuck it.”

—

“Shit,” Theo swears from his position in the passenger seat of my car.

“What? What happened,” I look over at him worried, as the traffic light in front of us flashes red.

“The gym flooded,” Theo says and I instantly smile.

“So no dance? How sad,” I fake a pout.

I watch Theo’s frown turn into a smirk as he reads another text on his phone, “Nope, My Captain came in clutch.”

—

“What the hell,” I say out loud as my ears are assaulted by the rock music being played by a live band in Tyler Lockwood’s backyard. A backyard that is somehow beautifully decorated with streaming lights, a dance floor, and filled with hundreds of people. Some who I don’t even look like teenagers.

“This is awesome!”

My brother stands next to me with a beaming smile on his face as he looks at everything like a child on Christmas morning.

“Something feels off,” I tell him and he doesn’t seem to hear me.

Some people pass me and I grow self-conscious of the dress I’m wearing. It’s a beautiful dress but with the hem that ends mid-thigh and the extremely low v-neck that seems to put my chest on full display for anyone who wants to oggle it, it makes me feel highly uncomfortable.

“Let’s just find Caroline and then leave,” I yell to my brother over the loud music and he nods to me.

We start walking through the crowds but a wave of people comes past us and I lose sight of my brother.

“Theo! Theo!”

I try to call out but all I receive is a few looks from people walking past me. I groan when I realize I’m going to have to go find my dumbass brother in this hoard of dumbass people.

I push through the hoards of drunk teenagers and wonder just how the hell no cops have been called and also where the hell is the Mayor? I personally feel like having a bunch of underage teenagers drinking on my property would interfere with any future campaigns.

I move around a couple as they dance to the end of the song and sigh as everyone around me blocks me in as they clap for the band. I decide to just push past them to get to the front but the sound of a British voice halts me in my tracks.

“Good evening, everyone!”

Oh, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

I look away from the people around me and up to the stage where the devil himself stands smiling down at everyone.

“I want to thank you all for being here with me to celebrate. It’s been a long time coming,” Klaus addresses the cheering crowd and I feel my heart drop to my ass as his eyes scan the crowd. My shaky breathing is covered by the claps of the crowd.

I watch as Klaus seems to lock eyes with someone in the crowd and it gives me time to really look at the hybrid.

Klaus is the devil. No doubt about it. But I would have to be blind to not think he’s beautiful. The dark suit and the polished hair he’s sporting tonight only seem to make him more heart-wrenchingly stunning.

Fucking Mikaelsons and their God-like gene pool.

I watch wearily as Klaus descends the stage and I hear the band start up again. The people around me start shoving me with their dancing and I let out a painful hiss as one of them jabs my left shoulder with their elbow.

I quickly push through the crowd to the side where a table of cups is set up. I clench my eyes together to try to block out the searing pain in my shoulder.

“Y/n?! What happened?”

I open my eyes when I feel a soft hand grabbing my right shoulder.

“Not you too,” I groan out as my eyes meet Alastair’s.

“Is it your shoulder? Tell me how to help,” I lean away as Alastair comes closer to me trying to help me.

“You can help me by leaving me the fuck alone,” I bite out and watch Alastair watch me for a moment, and then his attention shifts to the table of drinks. I watch cautiously as he leans down to the cooler on the ground and grabs a handful of ice. He then takes out the handkerchief in his suit pocket and wraps the ice in it.

“Here,” He reaches out the ice to me, “Take this it’ll help.”

I shake my head defiantly, “I don’t want anything from you.”

Alastair lets out a low huff and then pushes the ice into my right hand, “Just for once, let someone help you.”

I look at the ice in my hand and then practically growl in annoyance as I softly place it on my scar. A scar that is sadly on clear display, thanks to the tiny straps of my dress.

“See, was that so hard,” Alastair tries to joke but I just glare at him.

“Are you glad your boss is back in town?”

Alastair’s smile instantly drops and he glances over his shoulder momentarily. I follow his eye-line and see Klaus walking with Stefan. As if he heard us talking about him, which he probably did, Klaus turns his head and looks over to Alastair. He stares at him for only a moment before his eyes lock with mine. I inhale deeply as Klaus’ blue eyes devour my own. I feel like I can’t breathe as his eyes move from my face to my shoulder. I watch curiously though as his eyebrows slightly furrow.

He looks cute when he’s confused.

I know I did NOT just think that.

Klaus’ confused look drops when his eyes move from my shoulder to the rest of my body, more exactly, my dress. His eyes narrow for a moment before they seem to lose their brightness and then darken. It’s my turn to be confused as I watch his features turn into ones of anger as his jaw clenches and he practically glares at me. I can’t stand to look at him so I quickly turn back to Alastair who is now drinking a beer.

“Your boss really hates me doesn’t he?”

I quickly step back as Alastair chokes and spits out his beer.

“Dude what the hell?!”

“Sorry,” Alastair coughs out loudly and he quickly wipes his face with his sleeve.

“Your first time drinking or what,” I ask him and he looks up at me and sighs deeply.

“You two stress me out so fucking much.”

I fight back the urge to hit this bitch, “Really! You’re the one stalking me, and yet I stress you out?!”

Alastair stands to his full height and then pinches the bridge of his nose, “You’re blind and he’s stubborn!”

“I’m not blind!”

“Yes, you are!”

“Alright, asshat! Blind about what?!”

Alastair begins to open his mouth.

“Alastair,” A short dark-skinned woman in a black dress yells to him as she approaches us. She glances at me wearily for a moment before looking back to the vampire, “Klaus wants you inside…now.”

I turn and look back over to where Klaus and Stefan were once standing but they’re gone. I look back to Alastair and he gives a bitch face to the girl and then turns back to me.

“I’ll see you later,” Alastair turns around to follow the girl but then stops and looks over his shoulder at me, “You look beautiful by the way.”

—

“Y/n?”

I whip around and let out a sigh of relief when I see Bonnie standing by a keg holding a red solo cup. My relief is instantly gone though when I see the scared look on her face.

“Bonnie, what’s wrong,” I walk up to her and she quickly grabs my hand. She eyes the icepack that I’m holding to my shoulder for a moment but shakes her head.

“What are you doing here?! You’re supposed to be at home!”

I frown at my friend’s anxious tone, “Theo made me come. Tyler texted him saying Caroline needed me to come so badly.”

Bonnie’s frown somehow deepens even more, “What are you talking about? When did this happen?”

I shake my head, “Uhh, I’m not sure maybe like 2 hours ago.”

Bonnie stares at me for a moment, “Caroline didn’t ask you to come, Y/n.”

“What the hell are you talking about Bonnie? Tyler said she did.”

Bonnie’s worried expression makes my hands start to shake.

“What’s going on Bonnie? You’re starting to freak me out.”

Bonnie walks closer to me and leans in, “Caroline wouldn’t have told Tyler to have you come. I told her 3 hours ago that you needed to stay as far away from here tonight as you possibly could.”

My eyes narrow at Bonnie’s quiet words, “Why Bonnie? What’s going on? Klaus is here I know that. Does it have something to do with him?”

“There’s no time to explain. You said Theo is here as well?”

I nod.

“Where?”

I shake my head, “That’s what I’m trying to find out.”

Bonnie sighs and pinches the bridge of her nose. I’m really just stressing everyone out tonight, aren’t I?

“You need to find him and leave, now!”

Before I have a chance to ask any more questions Bonnie quickly leaves and I groan in annoyance.

—

I’ve been searching for my brother all over this stupid mansion and have come up with nothing. I passed some of his friends who told me Theo was trying to find me so somehow we just keep missing each other.

A cold liquid drips down my chest and I shiver. The culprit is the makeshift ice pack that is now completely melted and dripping down my chest. Fantastic.

I make my way through the living room of the Lockwoods and walk through the hall trying to find the kitchen. As I turn the corner, I let out a huff as I’m knocked into someone.

“I’m so sorry! I didn’t-”

Blue eyes narrow into mine.

“Of course, it’s you,” I growl out at the Hybrid.

“Pleasure to see you again as well, Princess,” Klaus’ snarky words make me bite back a growl as we glare at each other.

With a roll of my eyes, I go to move around him but a hand on my arm sends shocks through me. I look down and see Klaus’ hand grabbing my upper arm, Klaus’ who seems to have realized what he just did brings his hand back down to his side quickly.

“What,” I snarl at the man who stands only a few inches away from me. Making it hard not to breathe in his woodsy scent.

Klaus stares at me for a moment as if he’s trying to think of what to say and for a moment I think he’s just going to walk away. Or kill me. He could kill me as well.

“Your shoulder…what happened?”

I’m taken aback, not just by his question, but by his tone. Where I’m usually met with his usual snark, this time he sounds almost, not mean???

“Why? Want to push a finger into my scar to make me hurt some more,” I jab back and the man rolls his eyes.

“You may not believe this but I don’t take pleasure in seeing you in any pain.”

Klaus looks down at me and then at my scar and for a moment I think he might actually mean it.

“I got shot,” I say and look away from him and to my nails, “Not that it’s any of your business.”

I can see Klaus narrow his eyes from my peripheral, “You got shot?”

I turn and deadpan him, “Is that not what I said? Anyway, I’m fine now. Doc says I’m the fastest healer he’s ever seen.”

I don’t know why I told him that last part. But as I stare at the man I feel a bit of confusion when something unreadable flashes in his eyes.

“Is that so?”

I nod to his odd tone. Klaus just eyes me and I try to ignore the weird feeling that builds in my stomach as we stand there watching one another.

“Mister Klaus?”

A low growl leaving Klaus’ mouth startles me. He turns and glares at the short woman who interrupted Alastair and I before.

“What,” Klaus practically snarls at the woman and I feel bad for her as she starts to shake.

“Someone named Mikael is here to see you,” The girl pretty much whimpers and I let in a deep breath at the mention of the asshole Original.

My eyes go wide in fear as I look at Klaus waiting for his reaction. I expect to see fear on his face, but instead, he almost seems excited.

“Great. Wouldn’t want to leave him waiting then. Would we?”

The woman walks away and Klaus buttons up his suit jacket.

“Mikael’s here?”

My question quickly gains Klaus’ attention as he looks at me oddly.

“Isn’t this what you and your little friends planned?”

At his accusation, I glare at him, “You don’t know this about me Klaus, or actually anything about me, but let me make one thing clear. I will never and have never taken part in helping some abusive asshole. So I don’t know what you think my friends are planning, but I had no part in any of it.”

Klaus’ gaze softens for a moment and changes into an unreadable expression. Certainly, one I’ve never seen on him before. I find myself freezing when he reaches his hand up. I hold in a breath waiting for him to rip off my head for bitching at him but frown when all he does is grab a stray hair of mine and place it behind my ear. His touch lingers on my hair for a moment before he practically jumps away from me.

“I believe you,” He says to me and I raise an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t care if you believe me or not.”

Klaus just lets out a sigh and turns away down the hall. He doesn’t get far because he turns around and his eyes go back to my dress.

“Did I tell you how you look tonight?”

I raise an eyebrow and place a hand on my hip, “I’m excited to hear whatever insult you have for me.”

Klaus just smirks, “Damning. You look damning Y/n Y/l/n.”

I stand there speechless as Klaus gives me one last look before he exits the hallway.

“Nerd! There you are,” Theo jumps into my view, shocking me. He narrows his eyes at me.

“Are you having an allergic reaction?”

I frown and shake my head, “No? Why would you ask that?”

Theo raises his hand and then puts it in my face, “Cause your entire face is like REALLY fucking red.”

My eyes widen and I clear my throat, “I’m fine.’’

Theo thankfully just shrugs his shoulders and smiles, “Great! Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

526 notes · View notes