#vector x reader
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philistiniphagottini · 3 months ago
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can i please request vector from ygo with 🤧 from domestic bliss? im sick myself and ,, thought it'd be silly
Aww I'm sorry to hear that Anon. Thanks for the request and I hope you feel better soon <3
cw. fluff, sick fic, gender neutral reader
Domestic Bliss
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When you woke, your eyes were greeted to darkness swirling in your vision. A soft groan tumbled from your parted lips as you nestled yourself further into the comforting confines of your bed, nestling further beneath the layers of soft blankets piled on top of you. You sniffled loudly as an awkward cough tickled the back of your throat, your body aching as your head started to spin. You felt awful. You had caught some sort of terrible cold due to the shift in cooler weather these past couple of days. All you wanted to do was sleep all day, sapped of all your energy and head stuffed full of cotton as you medicated yourself on cough medicine and painkillers. You could do nothing other than to ride out the waves and wait until it passed in the next few days.
A loud knock on your bedroom door snapped you out of your stupor, eyelids struggling to stay open as sleep threatened to consume you once more. Your lips parted around a dry rasp as another terrible cough itched the back of your throat.
"Come in" you said through sputters.
Vector invited himself in, the paper bag he held in his hands rustling as he kicked the door closed behind him. A sigh of disdain breezed past his lips as you continued to stir under the covers of your blankets, pushing them down until your head poked out of the top.
"It’s so dark in here" Vector complained. 
Without warning, he flicked the light switch on, bathing your room in bright lights that made your eyes burn from the sudden onslaught. A soft hiss whistled through your teeth as you tucked your head back under the covers, your head pounding and ears pulsing with the sound of your heart beating frantically inside your chest.
"Vector" you whined. 
Vector rolled his eyes so hard they almost disappeared into the back of his head. "Quit your whinging."
He approached your bedside as he kicked off his shoes, the soles hitting the floor with a dull thud as the paper bag in his arms rustled once more. His violet eyes raked over your form, a frown tugging at his lips as he stared at your back. 
"I got your text" he said. "And I brought you some soup."
He carefully placed it on the small table nestled against your bed as you stirred again. With a soft groan and a loud noise of effort you slowly sat up, back resting against the pillows as you reached out to the paper bag. Vector’s frown only deepened at the sight of your sickly complexion, eyes heavy with weariness and flecks of dry skin clinging to the corners of your cracked lips. 
"You look like shit" Vector said, the metal piercing embedded in his tongue clicking against his teeth when he spoke.
"Feel like it too" you replied with a hoarse whisper.
A soft noise stirred in your throat as you inspected the contents of the bag, your gaze briefly flickering over to Vector before you started to rummage through it. There was a warm bowl of soup sitting at the bottom, along with utensils and a bottle of water. 
"Did you make this?" you asked, voice croaking and thick in your throat. 
A small smile tugged at Vector’s lips as his chest puffed up with pride. "And what if I told you I did?"
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the sound of pride etched into his tone. You pulled the bowl from the bag, your smile continuing to brighten as you noticed the little note attached to the top. 
"Ah, I see" you hummed. "So Kotori actually made it."
Your words made Vector visibly deflate as his shoulders sagged and an irritated sigh breezed past the seam of his lips. He flopped down onto the bed beside you, the mattress protesting from his sudden weight as your eyes scanned the lovely note your friend Kotori had left you, wishing for your health to improve soon. Vector idly curled a lock of his hair around his finger, twisting the wisps around his finger tips as he stared at you from the corner of his eye. 
"Yeah, she threw the one I made out" Vector explained. "Probably thought I was trying to poison you."
A soft snort blew out of your nose at the thought of Vector having enough patience to stand in the kitchen and actually attempt to cook. He saw the smile that tugged at your lips and a scowl settled onto his face. 
"What’s so funny?" Vector asked. "I tried my best."
You shook your head. "Nothing. It’s the thought that counts."
Vector grumbled some more as you placed Kotori’s note to the side, intent on also putting the soup back from where you got it from. You were stopped, however, when Vector caught your wrist and prevented you from putting it back. You blinked up at him owlishly, tilting your head to the side as you gave him a curious look. 
"Aren’t you going to eat it?" he asked.
You shook your head. "Not hungry."
Vector rolled his eyes with a haughty sigh. "Don’t give me that crap. You look like you haven’t eaten in days."
You opened your mouth to respond, but the cough itching at your throat decided to interrupt you as you choked on your own words. Luckily Vector was there to take the bowl of hot soup away from you before you accidentally tipped it over and let the contents come pouring out. With another weary sigh he dug into the paper bag and fetched the utensils, waiting until your coughing fit died down before he sat down next to you once more. You stared at him in mild disbelief as he took the plastic lid off the bowl and placed the spoon inside, stirring up the contents before scooping a generous amount out onto the spoon. He held it up in front of your mouth, expectantly waiting for you to take a bite. When you didn’t move immediately, he spoke. 
"Eat" he commanded, though his voice had lost its bite. 
"Not hungry" you repeated with a grumble. 
Vector’s eyebrow twitched. "Eat it or, so help me, I will force feed it to you."
A small pout tugged at your lips. You opened your mouth and let Vector spoon feed you, even if you felt a twinge of embarrassment curling in the pit of your stomach. The soup tasted delightful as it warmed your parched throat, quelling the terrible pinpricks that had been scratching like a persistent swarm of insects. Even if Kotori's cooking smelt and tasted wonderful, you still really weren’t that hungry. And that thought was conveyed when your nose scrunched up as Vector tried to offer you another spoonful of soup. He sighed softly. 
"One more bite and I’ll let you go back to bed."
You listened and allowed him to feed you another mouthful. Your complaining had all but died down as you swallowed the food, a smile tilting your lips as you looked up at Vector with a fond gaze. The look made him nervous. 
"What?" he questioned. 
"Thank you. For taking care of me."
Vector shook his head. "You can thank me after you get better, dumbass."
He stood from your bed as he put the soup and utensils back in the paper bag he brought with him. His lips brushed against your forehead as you settled back into bed with a heavy thud and tucked yourself in. Vector picked up the paper bag once more and flicked the light switch off on the way out, calling out to you over his shoulder as you drifted back off to sleep. 
"I’ll be in the other room if you need me."
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viktorappreciation · 1 year ago
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Chatting about foreplay with our ripper husband. That's all I heard anyway. 😘
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awkward-tension-art · 3 months ago
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Viral Vector Chp.1 (Echo X Reader)
Another addition to Caduceus. We've hit The Bad Batch now! This may be a bit of a brief series, but we'll see!
Enjoy!
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Chapter 2.
Galactic Empire
TW: Order 66, death, shooting, Jedi genocide, mention of blood and gore, reader insert, Reader is gender neutral, Reader a medical scientist, Echo x Reader, a bit of a slow-burn though
Minimally proofread and edited LOL
Minors DNI
DNA.
Deoxyribonucleic acid
Definition: a self-replicating material that is present in nearly all living organisms as the main constituent of chromosomes. It is the carrier of genetic information.
Living organisms. Humans. Pantorans. Twi’leks. Togrutas. Many more species in the wide Galaxy.
And clones.
Clones of Jango Fett. a Mandalorian bounty hunter with a strong paternal instinct and superior fighting skills. 
Handsome too, but you try not to let anyone know. 
Kamino, your home and workplace as a medical scientist, did not see clones as living beings. Most of your colleagues viewed them as property. A notion that went against everything you knew with ethics and morals. 
Even if you weren’t technically a part of the cloning experiments, you still interacted with many of them daily. Afterall, along with your lab and research, Shaak Ti had put you and several others incharge of running a clinic for the clones. 
Your place was taken from a lower level Hospital on Coruscant and put all the way to Kamino at the Jedi’s request. Once the war had begun, they wanted several non-Kaminoan doctors overseeing the clones' health as they grew and trained. You, along with a few others, had volunteered to stay on the stormy planet. To you, this was an escape away from the dark, crime filled low levels of the Republic planet. 
Apparently the Jedi tried to stress ethics to the Kaminoans, only for their words to fall on deaf ears. So, the compromise was the clinic.
You mostly saw cadets with bruises from tussling with batchmates, training accidents and occasional sicknesses their rapidly developing immune systems couldn't handle. Rarely did you receive any true emergencies, but it was fine. Less emergencies meant more time for you to research. 
It was medicine. Created specifically to slow a clones ' accelerated aging.
It was a secret. One that you were careful not to tell anyone. 
Well…Except for Omega. 
The little girl was a helpful assistant. Nala Se didn’t like her going out of the lab, so you meeting her was entirely an accident. She hid in your office months ago during a surprise lockdown. Apparently a clone had triggered a false alarm, but no one knew that at the time. 
Ever since then, when Nala Se didn’t have her, she wanted to spend time with you.
Right now, she was with you and Rig Nema, a Jedi healer. The older woman had come to visit Kamino at the request of Shaak Ti. You weren’t entirely sure why, but she seemed interested in your clinic.
“How many patients do you see in a day?” The Jedi asked as she helped you tend to Rein, a Kamino guard who, unfortunately, was hit by the shrapnel of an exploded training droid. 
“It can vary,” You informed her with a smile, “depending on when specific batches train. Some are more prone to injuries than others.”
“Like Clone Force 99?” Omega chimed in from where she was organizing some medicine for you.
Rig tilted her head, silently asking you to explain. 
“Genetically different clones.” You explained quickly, “They had genetic mutations that gave them…advantageous traits.” They were your friends. Having developed a rather close relationship with them since they were often at Kamino. 
Especially Echo. The ARC trooper had always been polite and kind to you. He’d visit your clinic first whenever Force 99 had returned from a mission. You were already friendly with the other members of the squad when he officially joined them.  His addition was welcome, and you treated him with the same amount of respect as you did the rest of them. It helped him feel welcome, even normal after everything he went through on Skako Minor.
She nodded in understanding. The Jedi was about to speak before an alarm blared. The lights overhead turned red, bathing everywhere with crimson. In between the high pitched beeps, a gravelly, unfamiliar voice announced.
Execute Order 66. 
You looked around confused, stepping away from the clone on the medical bed. What the hell was Order 66? The beeping stopped just as quickly as it started, but the lights were still a deep red.
Beside you, Rig stumbled back, gripping her head. You were at her side, hands holding her arm firmly. She was weak all of a sudden, and worry washed over you.
“Ms. Rig?” Omega approached, looking concerned. She had abandoned her task, and approached the two of you. 
“I got her.” You informed the blonde child, “Omega, go to the back of the room and hide behind the scanner. Can you do that?”
She nodded and rushed back, getting out of sight quickly.
You weren’t sure what was happening, but you’d be damned if anything happened to Omega.
“The Force…” The woman in your arms was trembling, “It's…It's weeping.” 
Your hands squeezed her arm, “Stay with me, Jedi.” You lead her to the bed across from Rein, who was already standing. He seemed ready, tense and prepared to fight if needed.
It was a relief, having a trained guard. Once he was up, you turned to see him holding a laser scalpel. Your brow furrowed and you spoke, “Rein…What are you-”
“Good soldiers follow orders.” He mumbled coldly, twirling the medical instrument in his hand, “The Jedi have committed treason against the Republic. Step aside or you will be executed.” His steps were slow and deliberate.
“Rein, what…?” Your confusion was palpable. You tried to get between him and the Jedi healer behind you, “Slow down, whats-”
The clone guard grabbed your shoulder and shoved you out of the way. He used enough force to cause you to stumble, hands and knees hitting the sterile white tiles. You looked up as soon as you heard the Rig and Rein scuffle.
“Get back!” Rig shouted. She raised a hand, lifting him with the Force. Her free hand activated her bright green lightsaber, “Why are you doing this!?”
“Good soldiers follow orders.” Rein repeated, raising a shaky hand to make a weak attempt at a stab. She, however, raised him higher before throwing him into the wall.
You heard a crack and Omega yelp from her hiding spot.
Before you could speak, the healer panicked. She ran out of your clinic, lightsaber ready. However before the door fully closed, you saw Kamino guards with their blasters aimed, as if waiting for her.
The sound of multiple rifles firing pierced your ears through the door. After the barrage of noise, there was the thump of a body hitting the metal floor of the hall. Then silence.
“What…” You scrambled to your feet and shot to the door. It slid open and you nearly tripped over Rig’s smoking corpse. She had been riddled with blaster bolt holes. Her eyes were still wide with terror, and her lightsaber was tight in her palm. Blood began to surround her, staining the once white floors.
All around you were clones. Those you recognized. Those you treated. But they looked…empty. Their helmets were on. Their blasters were steady. 
“Doctor,” Captain Silvo lowered his gun, “Did this traitor harm you?” 
“What…What is going on?” Even the Captain sounded unlike himself. It seemed like every clone had their personality stripped away, leaving only husks. 
What the fuck was going on!?
“The Jedi have committed treason against the Republic.” He answered, repeating Rein’s words. He motioned for the others to lower their own weapons, “We were given orders to execute them.” 
“The Jedi…as in…All of them?” 
“Yes, Doctor.”
It felt like the floor beneath you collapsed. The Jedi. Peacekeepers. Were ordered to be executed?
Omega had crawled from her hiding spot, and you turned, raising a hand to her, “Stay back. Close your eyes and stay right there.” You didn’t want her to see…Rig.
Kamino suddenly felt…cold. Empty. Everyone around you, your former friends, were now strangers. 
“I..I see Captain.” You swallowed. Your instincts were screaming at you to run. But Omega was behind you. She could be in danger if you acted out, “Well…I…I’m glad none of you were…hurt by the…traitor.” 
The word barely managed to leave your mouth. You swallowed thickly.
“There is still more out there. But they will be brought to justice.” He answered your statement with coldness. 
Your nod was stiff, “Thank you, Captain.” 
“Return to your duties, Doctor.” He turned swiftly before commanding his men, “Spread out, there are more Jedi on Kamino. Find them and execute on sight. You three, get this body covered and out of the way.” 
You were shaking when you turned back into your clinic. the door closed behind you, and there was silence. The light switched back and you blinked, adjusting your eyes to the sudden lack of crimson.
Omega stared at you, wringing her hands and looking so small. Wordlessly, you knelt and she ran into your arms for a hug.
You waited as you held her. Until you didn’t hear the plastoid boots outside. Until you didn’t hear the shuffling of Rig’s body being taken. Until you were certain the chaos had passed.
You waited until Nala Se walked into the clinic, “There you are.” She sounded as steady and emotionless as ever, “Come. There is still work to do.” 
Behind her were two clones, both wearing the identifiable Coruscant red. 
Shock troopers.
“Nala Se…?” You looked at the Kaminoan, “What…happened?” 
“The Jedi have betrayed the Republic.” She stated, repeating things you already knew, “They are being hunted and executed.” 
None of this made sense…
You squeezed Omega before letting her go to follow your boss. She gave you a sad look but remained silent as she stepped behind Nala Se. Wordlessly, you watched as the two of them walked out of your clinic. Once they were gone, you grabbed your holo, attempting to get a hold of your other colleagues. 
Silence. The others, those you came to Kamino with, didn’t answer. 
Assuming the worst, you tried to seek them out. Your assumptions were half-correct. Some of them were killed, either by interfering or cut down by panicked Jedi. Others you managed to catch in the hangar before they left to go back home. 
“The war is over, we’re leaving before Nala Se fires us officially.” Doctor Ulluk stated, stepping on the transport. You debated on going with them. Leaving the cloning facility behind, but before you could move, another ship touched down. 
The Marauder. Clone Force 99. 
You stepped back, watching your colleagues and friends leave Kamino.
The troopers, Guard, Shiny and Shock, shuffled and moved around. They resembled droids, emotionless and empty as they walked in line. Announcements rang out from the intercom system, directing them. No one bid you any mind.
Level five lockdown remains in effect. Security teams report to the command center.
You walked towards the ship slowly, waiting until the clone force stepped off. Once they did, you approached.
Hunter stepped down first, brown eyes scanning the area. He was alert, guarded yet calm. He gave a questioning look to you when he was on the Kaminoan floors. Wrecker was the same, but more curious than tense, he gave a friendly wave. Tech was beside him, unsurprisingly tapping a datapad. Crosshair looked uninterested, bored even, at the state of Kamino.
Once Echo Stepped down, he saw you and got to your side first, “You look spooked.” He was concerned, looking your form over for any injuries, “What happened?”
“Doctor, do you know what's going on?” Hunter got beside the ARC trooper, “This…isn't a drill.”
“Oh, man. What did we miss now?” Wrecker huffed, crossing his arms. 
A shock trooper, one with a datapad, stopped and answered, “The end of the war.”
The sergeant turned to him, “Say again, trooper?”
He answered, voice flat and emotionless, “General Grievous was defeated on Utapau. The Separatist leadership has collapsed. The war is over.” Behind him, two other clones were pushing a wheeled autopsy table. Draped over it was a white sheet, covering the body underneath.
Your eyes widened, watching as it passed. You were frozen, hyper focused on who was on the table.
“Just like I said.” Tech barely looked up from his datapad. His eyes roamed the screen, uninterested in the world around him.
Wrecker gasped, “It is like you said!”
Crosshair and Tech both rolled their eyes.
A lightsaber rolled from the autopsy table and hit the floor with a clatter. A hand, Rig’s hand, slipped out, confirming it was her under the sheet. 
Your throat tightened as the Shock trooper knelt and picked up the Jedi weapon, “Is there a problem?”
Hunter answered first, “No problem.” He looked to his squad before continuing, “We'll just head to our barracks then.”
The trooper nodded, continuing to walk, “Best hurry. There's a mandatory general assembly at 1500.”
Echo put a gloved hand to your shoulder, “Doc?” 
“That was Rig,” You whispered, “I watched them…they just…”
“Stay calm.” Hunter’s harsh, hushed tone snapped you out of your state, “Explain everything once we have some privacy.”
With a nod, you followed them to their barracks. Echo was at your right, and Crosshair was at your left. Occasionally Hunter would cast a glance back to you, as if making sure you were still present. Wrecker and Tech were behind you. The squad encircled you, as if intending to protect you. 
“Are you ok?” The ARC trooper leaned closer to whisper, “did anyone hurt you?” He was protective. Ever since you met him he’s always tried to keep you safe. 
Really all the clones had the drive to protect. To fight and defend. But after….after order 66….
That instinct was gone now. From all of them.
You shook your head and were about to speak when a shock trooper snapped, “Where do you think you're going, doctor?” He wore the standard painted red armor. There was a rifle in his hands as he spoke to you. 
You froze and damn near jumped out of your skin when he demanded an answer. Echo stopped beside you, as did the others of his squad. 
“I…They..” Your voice was lost, and after a quick clearing of your throat, you gave a proper answer, “Examining Clone Force 99. They’ve just returned from their mission and…”
“There is a Level Five Lockdown in effect.” The trooper stepped towards you, “All nonessential personnel are to go to their quarters and remain until the all clear is given.” 
You hated pulling rank, but in the hierarchy of Kamino, you stood above most clones, “Excuse me,” your tone became stern, hiding your shock from earlier. With a quick movement, you had your I.D out and nearly shoved in the clone's helmet, “I head the clinic in medical wing B. I am essential personnel. If it's such an issue for me to be out, you can take it directly to Nala Se.”
After a second, the Coruscant Guard stepped back, “My apologies Doctor. Continue on your way.”
Echo shared a look with you, “Are…you allowed to be with us?”
“No.” you admitted once the guard was out of earshot, “But I…I’m scared. I don’t want to be alone.” It felt like you were in the ocean, surrounded by predators. All they needed was a single drop of blood before they attacked.
Would they gun you down like they did the Jedi? Or would they opt to throw you in a cell? Would they try to mind-wipe you the same way many of their brothers had been? 
Your pace was hurried once you got to their barracks. The door slid open, and Crosshair damn near shoved you inside. Hunter caught you and gave the sniper a harsh look. 
Their barracks were messy but homey. There were posters and used targets on the walls. There were scribbles and doodles carved into the once shiny metal. Tables had droid pieces, tools and other projects that Tech most likely worked on. 
It was…personalized. Very Un-Kaminoan.
Hunter was about to speak when his comrade cut him off.
Wrecker walked past you, letting out a small cheer, “Ah! Good to be back!” He stretched his large arms above his head, entirely missing your state, “Well, I'll get the board. Eleven more successful missions.”
“Kaller wasn’t a win,” Hunter softly chastised his brother. He wanted to hear what you had to say, but Wrecker chimed in again to argue.
“Says who?” The larger clone turned, facing the team leader, “We completed our objective.”
“Not every objective.” It was Crosshair that spoke, not allowing you to talk, “Hunter let that Jedi kid escape.” His arms were crossed, glaring at the long haired sergeant, “Or do you want to keep lying to us?”
“E-even the padawans?” Your throat tightened. Horror washed over you all over again. Nausea slammed into your stomach, and you nearly dry heaved. You slapped your hand over your mouth and bent slightly. 
Children were executed too?
Echo’s arms were around you, “Everyone, shut up!” He snapped, “None of this makes sense!” His angry gaze was trained on the sniper, clearly not happy he wanted a padawan dead, “Those clones served alongside General Billaba for years. How could they have turned on her like that?”
“Because of the regs programming,” Tech finally spoke up, hands tinkering with a small robotic project.
Programming…
You looked up at the intellectual clone, realization dawning on you. 
Months before this, Kamino was put on lockdown. A clone and a Coruscant doctor had infiltrated the labs and went through genetic files searching for something. To your knowledge they were trying to cure another clone from a disease of some type. 
The trooper had died anyway. And according to the news from Coruscant, once the ARC trooper and doctor left, the clone had gone insane and killed the doctor before trying to assassinate the Chancellor. 
It was shared with the medical team that every clone had a bio-mechanical chip in their brains. You were told that the chip was planted to help the clones deal with the stresses of war. What caused the ARC trooper to go insane was a breakdown of said chip. In his insanity, he killed the doctor.
But now it was clear, you had been lied to. 
“It's been well documented that the Kaminoans inhibited the cognitive functions of clones to engineer them to follow orders without question,” Tech continued, “The good doctor here can confirm.” His eyes were on the small trinket he was working on.
You nodded, “I…I think…Yes. But I’d need to confirm. Check some records…” You straightened, still feeling sick to a degree, “All the clones were programmed to kill Jedi after being given an order.”
Wrecker furrowed his brow, “If that's the case, why weren’t we affected?” 
“Obviously, we are different,” The intellectual clone picked up a small screwdriver and continued to tighten something in his project, “They manipulated preexisting aberrations in our DNA, resulting in your brute strength, Crosshair's sharpshooting skills, Hunter's enhanced senses and my exceptional mind.”
“Those differences make you immune.” You looked at Echo. He still kept a hand on your shoulder, something you appreciated, “And Echo, most likely what happened to you on Skako Minor…it might have affected the chip. So the order didn’t affect you either.” 
He sighed and looked down, “Lucky me…” However, his eyes met yours again, “All the Jedi executed, even…”
“Most likely General Skywalker too. I’m sorry, Echo.” You raised a hand to squeeze his shoulder before pulling him into a comforting hug. 
He told you stories of Skywalker. How he was a good, if adventurous general. How he cared for his men deeply enough to risk everything for them. 
And now…the Jedi general was most likely dead too. Shot in the back by the very troopers he fought alongside.
You hoped, for Echo’s sake, he was alive and in hiding. 
The former ARC trooper accepted the embrace before he pulled away, turning to look out the window. You could see the storm of emotions in his soft brown eyes. Hunter was about to speak, most likely offer words of sympathy, but he had been cut off by an announcement over the PA system.
All personnel report to the staging area for a briefing on the state of the Republic.
You shared a confused look with Wrecker. That was sudden…
“This is one meeting I don't want to miss,” Hunter shrugged and began to walk out of the barracks. 
“First time for everything.” Crosshair snarked, following the sergeant. 
You followed the others before bidding farewell and going to your designated place. Your thoughts overwhelmed your mind and you nearly walked right into Nala Se’s back when you met up with her and Omega.
The young girl greeted you happily and grabbed your hand. She smiled up at you, “Good to see you, doctor!” 
Your smile was small but you were relieved to know that she seemed to handle the rapid change well enough, “Glad to see you, Omega. Are you alright?” 
She nodded, but remained silent when Lama Su joined you three.
You were behind the heads Kamino. The scientists and leaders you reported to walked steadily to the observation deck. None of them seem bothered from the chaos just hours before. No one seemed to care that Shaak Ti was gone…
Was she dead? Did Commander Colt shoot her down? Or did she escape and survive? 
You were so deep in thought you missed the entirety of the beginning of the briefing. In fact, you didn’t even register that it was Chancellor Palpetine announcing the news. By the time you snapped into focus, he was already giving a speech. 
“and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated.” The holo echoed around the large staging area. “The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed. But I assure you. My resolve has never been stronger!”
Troopers stood in line. You could easily spot clone force 99. Their black and red armor was stark against the white plastoid of the other soldiers. 
“In order to ensure the security and continuing stability the Republic will be reorganized,” Palpetine continued, and you perked up. 
“into the first Galactic Empire!”
Immediately troopers began to cheer. Many raised their fists in celebration, however, some of them looked around as if confused, entirely shocked by the news.
Your head spun, no longer hearing the speech. 
Galactic…Empire…?
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yanderegrizzsworld · 2 years ago
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Yandere Platonic Team Chaotix, Yandere Platonic Shadow the hedgehog and Yandere Platonic Knuckles with an obsession that stopped spending time with them because of dating or having problems in their personal life.
Imagine: Platonic Yandere Team Chaotix, Shadow the Hedgehog & Knuckles the Echidna where the reader stops spending time with them
TW: Implied stalking/murder
Team Chaotix:
Their work relies heavily on their client & when no call is made or Amy in need for the resistance, they're given a vast amount of free time.
Espio would be the first to make note of how your time with them lessens, but it's only when Charmy laments on your distance with the team that Espio speaks on his regards. Vector attempts to mostly calm the bee with the excuse of you being busy while Espio takes the opportunity & locates you & observe you without you detecting.
No matter the reason of your shift, Vector reasons that they shouldn't meddle with your life outside of them, resulting with a pouty Charmy who complies nonetheless. Only for the little bee to find you & strive to lift your spirit, not answering when you question how he knew of your absence of quality time with the team.
Shadow the Hedgehog:
Though living with a tight schedule & nobody really knowing where he is half the time, he seemingly always makes time for you even if it's short. The hedgehog finds serenity with you & finds himself missing it the moment he isn't with you anymore.
Shadow doesn't ask questions when you wish to be alone, simply assuming you wish for solitude. He's quick to catch on how little time he has spent with you, which leads to him off to locate you, asking if anyone has seen you if he's somehow unable to find you by himself.
While the ultimate life form understands that being confrontational can frighten many, he reasons with himself that it is necessary in this "predicament" your both in. Shadow doesn't delight in putting himself in others business, yet he asks what he can do to ease your issue or, better yet, to eliminate all together.
.
Knuckles the Echidna:
Knuckles is not garrulous, both by nature & under the circumstance of guarding the Master Emerald alone for most of his life. While not the most efficient in social events or casual conversation, he always makes it an effort to strive for the conversation to be at most adequate.
The echidna doesn't pick up on your absence until he asks himself when was the last time he saw you. While he prefers to search for you alone, he requests that Sonic, Tails &/or Amy aid him on your whereabouts, asking of where they've seen you last & when.
The echidna is all about honor & when hearing your reasoning of why you haven't spent time with him, he chastises himself & immediately offers a hand. Whether he accept or not is a choice he respects, though be prepared for him to continuously ask afterwards while also following you around.
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agnesandhilda · 6 months ago
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taste is subjective etc but I truly do not understand what anyone could find sexually attractive about ego jinpachi
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dust-sans-simp · 12 days ago
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Tutor!Espio x Reader Headcanons (Highschool AU)
Can be read as platonic or romantic, leans more toward platonic. Though, I had romantic in mind. Fluff, full on fluff.
Content Warnings: None (If you see one let me know)
I heard that the Sonic ages got retconned, I don't know if that's true (I live under a rock) but I'm going to go off the original ages
Espio: 16
Vector: 20
Charmy: 6
Reader: 14-16
I imagine it’s for a language class. 
He speaks sixteen languages, I highly doubt there’s a school that offers one he doesn’t already know. 
He didn’t even want to take one for this reason
But he needs it to graduate 
So here we are
He notices you’re struggling fairly quickly, he’s very perceptive
But he didn’t know how bad it was
Until Vector saw you had an F on your report card
He’s not a stickler for grades, as long as you’re passing, he’s fine with it
But you weren’t passing
So Espio offered to help you
He’ll try to figure out why you’re struggling, especially if you’re an A/B average student
 Bad teacher? Disruptive class? You need a different method to learn things?
He figures getting to the root of problem will help you more in the long run
But he doesn’t really know what he’s doing, he’s never taught anyone before
He gets the hang of it rather quickly though
He’s incredibly patient with you, willing to redo things as many times as you need
He’ll make sure you take breaks, so you don’t get overwhelmed
If you do, he’ll do his best to help you calm down
But comfort is way out of his alley, so he’s very awkward about it
He’ll be so proud of you when you eventually get your grade up
But don’t expect any praise when Charmy and Vector are around
Let me know if you want me to write a one-shot based on this!
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weenwrites · 2 years ago
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Could you write headcanons for Cybertron Vector prime, Cybertron Optimus, and Cybertron Jetfire being friends with a teenage reader who acts like a mixture of a chaos gremlin and an ADHD furet? (Totally not reflecting here)
Vector Prime can draw many similarities between you and the Minicons, so he's used to having someone like you around. He'd think that you're pleasant company to have around—albeit a bit too much for him to handle at times—but still nice nonetheless. The energetic and vibrant atmosphere around you is a nice difference to the quiet, solemn feeling he used to live in when he was watching over time.
Whenever the two of you talk, he's more often than not the listener, and it's not that he minds. He may not understand a majority of topics you're interested in (depending on what they are) but he's willing to try and understand them. He'll definitely ask a couple questions though. But if you show interest in any of the topics he has to talk about, he'll be a bit more talkative.
Basically he's like a grandpa. And he'd most definitely enjoy taking long walks through the forest with you (if that's something you'd enjoy doing.)
Optimus—similar to Vector Prime—is rather quiet and reserved in comparison to you, but he still enjoys your company, like he does the rest of his team. He tries his best to keep you out of any trouble that you might find yourself in. Sometimes he succeeds, sometimes you slip through his hands (literally).
He'd always ask about your day and anything you've told him about whenever he gets the chance to. And if he happens to be free at the time, you'll get to hitch a free ride on his shoulder and tell him the story at the same time!
Jetfire honestly finds your chaotic energy amusing and pretty funny at times, but then again he finds himself regretting his words whenever you get yourself in a pickle. But still he considers you to be a pretty good friend! From time to time he'll tell you to be more careful, and while it may get annoying, he just wants you to be safe.
He has a pretty good understanding of human culture, so he'll understand a majority of whatever you talk to him about. But then again there do come times where he doesn't get it, and a little explanation would be appreciated.
If you enjoy going out on rides, then he wouldn't mind taking you with him to go out on flights. He enjoys just going out and flying around. And depending on whether this is before or after the humans know about the Autobots' existence, he may or may not perform a couple aerial tricks in the sky just for fun. A little heads up though, you might get real airsick.
When he takes charge of Cybertron at the end, he's unfortunately become quite busy with all these new tasks he has to manage, so the two of you don't get to hang out as much anymore. He still tries to carve out as much time as he can to just relax and hang out with you though.
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enola6 · 11 months ago
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An Interesting Mind
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(Vector Hyllus/Reader)
Alderaan was not full of blitheness, nor was it serene.
It was elegant.
It was lush.
At the same time, however, it seemed hollow and lifeless to her. Under the guise of riches and luxury, Lady Thul was miserable. And though she was miserable and bored, she became entertained by an offworlder. Having captivated the attention of a Coruscanti journalist assigned to the task of covering politics off-world. And though she had once believed Coruscant to be the epitome of corruption and grief, she was certainly proven wrong by the Alderaanians—at least by the Thuls.
They were a people paranoid of their enemies. Even Urtel Moren, Lady Thul’s usually stoic bodyguard, illuminated an aura of fear when Jedi and politics were mentioned. The journalist followed him outside, notepad in hand.
"Miss (y/n)," he turned around while being followed in the palace gardens. "May I assist you in anything?"
The Coruscanti took note of the naturalness of Alderaan. Hills that never seemed to stop growing, rills that held water that would never stop flowing. A sky so clear you could see the stars at night and the shapes of clouds during the day...
It was everything Coruscant was not, and yet she yearned for her home.
"I have finished my report on House Thul." She stated, standing straight as if the Sith intimidated her. He waited for her to continue, confused as to why she was speaking to him. Being from offworld, she was only permitted to speak to her host family, not to anyone else, in fear of slander regarding the imperials on Alderaan.
"So you will be leaving us soon?" He inquired.
"No," Her answer startled him, yet he was not surprised. "I wish to explore this planet’s wildlife. Remember that man who visited the house when I first arrived? His eyes the colour of cinders, and he spoke using the word ‘WE’ instead of ‘I’".
"Yes, I remember the Joiner."
She found his tone welcoming and stepped closer to him, showing him the notes she had taken in her notebook. Scribbles as well as random words observed by the journalist graced her singular page dedicated to the man. She was quite embarrassed, to say the least, but the man and his talk of killiks intrigued her.
"I wish to research his condition... I want to venture onto Killik grounds."
“Lady Thul will not permit such an endeavor from someone she is hosting. Your safety will be at risk, Miss (y/n).”
“I know, my Lord. That is the beauty of it.” Thrantas flew above them, creating a gust of wind to close the pages of her book. She placed her book on the latch of her belt where it had always hung, sometimes hitting her legs. “On Coruscant I was given menial work, nothing of importance and seldomly allowed to investigate topics off-world. Now that I have the chance to investigate this… anomaly…”
He sensed her curiosity and recognized it as something dangerous. Journalists have the power to spread news of the war, they also hold the power to change it.
“If you do not offer me directions to their hives, then I will tell the lady of the house about your reports.”
She knew it was wrong, and her heart sank while she spoke to the sith. The enormous derelict camps on Taris reminded her of the jedi. She remembered a child, cradled in his mother’s arms, slowly transform into a rakghoul. She remembered returning to the camp, and her droid detected no human. There was the Barsen'thor, in the capital and when she begged she did not investigate.
Taris was no longer the planet of great civilization , and she blamed the jedi and sith and their stupid war.She however, also knew about his mission. That child was born with knowledge of sith legends , something the bodyguard was ordered to retrieve by the emperor .
“Do not fool me.”
His body softened and the clench he held in his fists was loosened. The redness of his robes created a soft breeze upon her skin as he turned around and began walking down the concrete , white path. From his steps, she thought she saw his footsteps illuminate red, but then again she shook her head and it was gone.
“Tomorrow morning before the sun rises , you will meet me here.” He turned his head around and spoke to her through telepathy, a skill she hated from the sith. “You will bring the coordinates but if you are lying then I will find you and strike you down. Don’t think Republic-ridden Coruscant will save you.”
Bright stars in the sky kept the curious journalist awake as she leaned on the pillows on her temporary bed. A bed she would know no longer.
It was bright and early, too early for (y/n) to comprehend her thoughts in the cold breeze of the mountains. Stupidly , She had not dressed for the cold, believing the weather to be warm and soothing, the perfect temperature for an adventure . A cold nip bit her cheeks , making her cheeks rosy and puffy. Ice stuck to her boots and she almost sprained her ankle on a rock which stood in her way. Urtel Moren took large strides , it was hard for (y/n) to keep up.
“My Lord” She called out while trying to keep his pace “my Lord!”
“Slow down, my Lord!”
He stopped in his tracks and didn’t bother turning , for he sensed her struggle behind him and let her fall on her face.
“There is no need.” He spoke calmly .
“This is … “
“Yes, miss (y/n), this is Killik territory . Feared by many , except the simple.”
She noticed his eyes darken.
Darken as they would around jedi.
Darken as they would around enemies of House Thul.
It was all too soon, he reached for his lightsaber and all she saw was the gleam of red haunt her vision with its overpowering force. Thoughtlessly, she instinctively stepped back, retreating from the looming danger of the sith. In her haste, she stumbled and fell into a hole, a refuge of desperation. Her heart raced as she landed, and her back collided with a jagged rock. Pain surged through her body, and the impact was enough to force her into unconsciousness. Once again , she hit a rock , forcing her to become unconscious as she heard the eerie sound of the kiliks. The world around her grew distant as darkness enveloped her, leaving her fate uncertain in the face of the menacing threat.
Her senses slowly abandoned her,as she was no longer aware of the looming threat of the red lightsaber or the haunting figure who wielded it. Instead, her unconscious form lay still in the darkness of the hole…
The killiks' delicate antennae brushed against her motionless body, as they communicated silently with one another in their distinct language . In their intricate and collective way, they assessed the intruder, unaware of her purpose . The unconscious woman remained at the mercy of these enigmatic creatures, her fate uncertain as they probed and examined her in the cold, unforgiving darkness.
They gently lifted her from the cold, rocky ground, their coordinated efforts carrying her with surprising care and precision. In their collective intelligence, they recognized her as something of interest, a puzzle they wished to solve.
Their joiner would know more about the strange woman.
Slowly and silently, they made their way through the intricate tunnels, guided by an unseen force—their hive mind working together to transport their newfound discovery. As they navigated the labyrinthine passages, (y/n) ‘s unconscious form was brought closer to their destination.
Finally, they arrived at the nest where Vector Hyllus, the joiner, awaited. He was standing, surrounded by a soft, bioluminescent glow emanating from the Kilik nests. The Kiliks approached, their intricate chittering signaling their discovery to the human. He understood them and studied the unknown woman with interest.
A Killik stepped forward and handed Vector her belt. The belt seemed small in the insectoid creature's grasp, but the creature recognized it as useful and important.
With a mixture of curiosity and gratitude, he unzipped the pouch attached to the belt carefully and found the journal inside. The journal was filled with meticulous research notes and observations about Joiners and the enigmatic Kilik species. Vector's own history as a Joiner, someone bonded with the Kiliks, made this discovery even more intriguing.
“(y/n) (l/n)...” he whispered as he traced his finger over the title page of the journal.
He looked upon her once more and came to the realization that she was a woman he recognized from house Thul. He remembered her pheromones of curiosity and the way her eyes never left him.
As he flipped through the pages, his eyes widened with understanding and interest. (y/n) had dedicated significant time and effort to studying the connection between Joiners and Kiliks. Her research could hold valuable insights into the intricate relationship between the two and potentially reveal new aspects of their unique bond.
“Take her to a private area. She means no harm, just curiosity.”
In the darkness of his own private room, Vector’s black eyes examined the journal with such delicate ease, afraid to damage any pages from the thoughtfully crafted journal. As he examined the woman's journal and the intricate research she had compiled, his senses picked up on an unusual scent, a subtle and intoxicating fragrance that was carried in the air.
These were not ordinary scents, but rather pheromones, biological signals that held a profound and instinctual significance to the Kilik species. Pheromones were a powerful form of communication and connection for the insectoid creatures, and they conveyed a range of emotions and intentions.
Vector's unique bond with the Kiliks heightened his awareness of these chemical signals. As he inhaled the subtle, alluring scent emanating from the unconscious woman, a surge of instinctual emotions and thoughts flowed through him. He was aware that this was not just an ordinary human response, but a deep and primal connection to the Kilik hive mind, intensified by the woman's presence.
In that moment, a complex and unconventional bond began to form in Vector's mind, a connection that went beyond mere curiosity. He recognized the woman's pheromones as an invitation, an offer of unity with the Kiliks in a way that was both intriguing and unsettling. However, Vector was still a diplomatic and open-minded individual. A part of him was still human.
With these thoughts in mind, Vector Hyllus closed the journal, his mind filled with a mixture of fascination and uncertainty. The discovery of the woman's research and the presence of her pheromones had opened a new and uncharted chapter in the complex relationship between Joiners, Kiliks, and (y/n).
When she awoke some time later, her hair amess and out of the many braids she had twisted them in. She reached for her belt, she had packed a silver blade before she had ventured , not trusting the sith in his full capacity. However, when she reached down she felt nothing but empty belt loops that held no leather, and no notebook.
(y/n’s) senses slowly returned, and she found herself in the presence of Vector Hyllus and the Killiks. Confusion clouded her thoughts as she attempted to make sense of the situation. It was what she wanted , and for the first time she wished to be back at her office on Coruscant.
That was when the Joiner entered the room, causing (y/n) to turn around.
She said nothing as she made eye contact with the joiner. Her gaze shifted, and she suddenly noticed something unusual. His striking, pitch-black eyes met hers, and the sight sent a shock of surprise through her.
“You’re…” she began to stutter.
“We are Vector Hyllus ,” the joiner began to speak “Dawn Herald of the Oroboro nest. Pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss (y/n).”
“How do you know my name?” (y/n) moved hair from her eyes, looking fully at the man before her.
“We examined your journal. Just a precaution to see if you could be trusted.” His voice was deep and soothing , but one could hear the eusocialness radiate from his voice. (Y/N) didn’t have time to think of accents or tone. Instead, she jolted back when killiks entered the room with their menacing height and fangs.
“What frightens you?” he integrated.
“I cannot speak,” the woman began to compose, “For I am fearful of the creatures that stand in the shadows behind you.”
And though she was tired , (y/n) managed to stand and point at what was behind Vector with her ring catching his eye. It shined in the minimal light that was present in the cave. The only light seemed to be the gleaming light that radiated from the unfriendly aura of the killiks.
“These are the killiks, but you seem to be already knowledgeable about their unique anatomy and character. We have lived with them, worked with them and became them. So , Miss (y/n), what do you wish from us?”
Knowledge , research , the permission to record the hive. She would have answered that only hours ago .
“ forgive me, sir,” she began to speak “But I admit I am frightened by the eyes of black that you proudly bear. You have read my journal and know what I know…” she took a recorder from her jacket and pressed the bright red button on the top of the lip , “so tell me what the world does not for your kind is so interesting that I yearn to enlighten the world about your condition.”
They sat down and he began to speak.
For days she slept on the bed kindly offered by Mister Vector Hyllus and wrote her report, refusing to return to Coruscant without it.
But another thing made her stay. Sometimes, she would peek behind the tall walls of the cave and stare at him with complete fascination.
He would look back.
And she would blush.
Vector observed the blushing, skittish woman with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. Her dedication to understanding the Kiliks and her unyielding determination to learn more about their bond fascinates him. He admired her. Her courage , her intellect and her beauty.
He one day caught her packing her bag. She had discussed with him the night before on her departure , how she would leave him and never see him again. That is what he feared.
“(y/n)” He called to her.
“Vector!” She loosened her shoulders and moved some hair from her face. “I haven't seen you all day. Where have you been?” she stepped closer to him, her pheromones becoming more and more present , almost intoxicating him with her unknowing spell. In the midst of the cave, a flower had bloomed from its hidden petals and became the only jewel in the room.
“(y/n) there is something we must discuss with you. We do not want you to leave.”
“Vector … I do not understand”.
“We have felt something since you’ve arrived . A sweet sensation that does not leave. It is strange we have never felt such…”
“Mister Hyllus,” She noticed his red cheeks in the darkness of the cave. “I believe you are trying to say that you like me… romantically .” she then thought of ways to convey her message to his hive mind , “in the way mates do.”
He looked down almost shamefully . No, that was the wrong word, for the feeling he felt held no shame.
“We believe so , (y/n)”
“Well , Vector,” she let her bag drop and walked closer to him. She twiddled her fingers and tried looking anywhere but him. The flustered state that they both shared seemed to be oh so contagious. “I don’t want to leave either.”
And that was her way of letting him know that she had also grown feelings for him.
“Leave the hive, just for a moment.” She whispered into his ear. The black of his eyes disappeared and a human was in front of her. A man.
“Let us enjoy ourselves…”
(y/n) did not leave for Coruscant that night.
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designershop · 11 months ago
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CROCODILE COLLECTION🐊❤️
Check my redbubble⤵️❤️
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awkward-tension-art · 11 days ago
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Viral Vector Chp.3 (Echo x Reader)
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Chapter 2. Chapter 4.
Data
TW: Tarkin being an ass, Omega being cute, Galactic Empire, Swearing, mentions of a fight, reader insert, mentions of medical procedures, Reader is gender neutral, Reader a medical scientist, Echo x Reader, a bit of a slow-burn though
You were in a rush. 
Live rounds. LIVE ROUNDS!? IN A TEST!?
What game was Tarkin playing?
You had been resting, finally closing your eyes to sleep when Echo commed you. They had been tested rather than punished. But that test had turned potentially dangerous when the training droids started using live rounds. 
Wrecker had been hurt, a bolt hitting him square in the shoulder. 
You gathered some bandages and bacta and made your way to the squad's barracks. However, your steps finally slowed. Down the hall was Nala Se, Lama Su and Tarkin, behind the former was Omega. She kept pace, following closely behind them.
You followed, keeping your head down. There was an intense drive to keep that little girl safe. 
And she wouldn't be safe anywhere near Tarkin.
The three of them had turned, entering one of the Cloning wings. Before the doors closed, you slipped inside, pretending to do work. Your datapad was up to your face, and you acted as though you were inspecting some of the developing clones in their tubes. 
“Extraordinary, aren't they?” The Kaminoan scientist spoke, voice flat and calm. 
“That remains to be seen,” Tarkin responded, looking directly at a developing fetus in its tube. He then turned, facing those behind him, “Tell me about Clone Force 99.” His admiral kept his hands behind his back. 
Nala Se answered him, “They are medically defective clones whose cellular mutations enhanced traits desirable in a soldier.”
Your eyes were on Omega, she was technically a clone. How far that mutation went, you didn’t know. So far, the only difference is that she was a little girl. 
But sometimes, when she turned, or spoke, or moved, you saw the cadets in her. When she grew up, she’d be capable, just like them. 
There was a sense of pride in your chest.
Tarkin’s cold eyes went to Omega, “How many of these enhanced clones do you possess?”
Nala Se answered again, “Five are all that remain.”
Now, there was fierce protectiveness in your heart. Stay away from her, you hydro-snake. You thought bitterly. 
Lama Su stepped forward, now deciding to speak, “They could be an asset to your new Empire.”
Tarkin didn’t seem convinced, his stare was now on the Prime Minister, “Yet reports indicate they exhibit a concerning level of disobedience and disregard for orders.”
“A side effect of their mutation.” Nala Se cut in, trying to reason with him. 
Omega looked between the scientist and Admiral. She seemed so out of place among them. 
“Yet one that has never hindered the completion of their missions.” Lama Su stepped forward as he explained. 
“Then they executed Order 66?”
Rig. 
Your lungs tightened. 
“Since both the Jedi General and Padawan on Kaller were eliminated, one would assume.” The Prime Minister seemed nervous. Clearly he was anxious about the idea of Kamino being unneeded by the new Empire. 
“Assume nothing. Only the general's death is confirmed.” Tarkin interrupted him, “A counter-report, filed by one of their own, says the Padawan escaped.” He turned back to the tube containing the growing clone, “Let us see where the loyalty of these clones truly lies.”
Omega looked nervous. And so were you. You had to warn them. Silently, you slipped from the Cloning Facility. Once you were in the hall, you rushed to their barracks. 
“Live rounds? They used live rounds! On us!” 
You heard Wreckers voice through the door. He was angry, clearly. There was a bang, sounding like he slammed his fists on the table.
“We were there, Wrecker. We know.” Tech chimed in.
Echo spoke next, “I tried to warn you about Tarkin.”
Your hand hit the button and it opened, revealing all of them looking worse for wear. 
“Who's that Imperial snake think he is?” Wrecker huffed, pausing when you approached with your bag of medical supplies. 
Crosshair rolled his eyes as you began to check the larger clone over, “Stow it, already. You got shot. It happens all the time.”
“There's a fundamental difference between taking fire in battle and being used for target practice.” Tech interrupted, facing the sniper.
Hunter finally spoke, “Are you alright, Doctor?”
Your eyes must’ve given something away. You shook your head as you secured a bacta patch to Wreckers shoulder, “Something…is wrong. Seriously wrong.” You responded, “Tarkin is trying to do something with all the clones. But I don’t know what.”
“What do you mean?” Echo asked, taking a step closer to you. 
“He wants clone medical files. And now he’s talking about a test of loyalty.” Your words were shaky, “I..I don’t know what's going on.”
Why couldn’t you calm down?! Ever since the clone troopers turned and shot Rig, your body has been on fight or flight. 
The ARC trooper put a careful hand to your back, “Do you think we’re in danger?” 
You nodded, looking at your trembling hands, “I think he’s targeting you all…I don’t know why.” 
Echo moved his hand from your back to hold your hand. His grip was strong, yet kind and reassuring. You looked up, and his pale brown eyes held concern, “That explains the live rounds during the test.” He mumbled.
“Let it go.” Crosshair practically groaned in annoyance. 
“Hey! We aren’t dummy droids.” Wrecker snapped.
“That much we agree on,” Tarkin’s voice caused your heart to drop. 
Echo swiftly let go of your hand and stood at attention like the rest of his squad. 
You scrambled back, staying out of the way. Luckily, the Admiral didn’t seem to pay you any mind. 
“That was quite an impressive display.” Tarkin stated flatly, walking down the small steps into the barracks. 
Hunter watched him carefully, “Didn’t have much choice.” 
“Our new empire may have methods which seem a bit unorthodox, but so does this squadron.” The older man inspected each of the clones, “Both certainly have their merits.” He turned to nod to Hunter before carefully looking over Wrecker, “Nala Se speaks quite highly of her five enhanced clones. She claims you're more capable than an army.”
Understatement. You thought to yourself silently. 
The squad’s leader did well to pick up Tarkin’s intentions, “You have a mission for us, sir?”
“Indeed,” The slimy Admiral turned around to speak to him, “We have tracked a group of insurgents to the Onderon sector. They must be dealt with.”
Echo perked up, “What sort of insurgents?” Already he was mentally preparing for the mission. 
“Separatist forces intent on keeping the galaxy at war.” Tarkin explained bluntly, “If you neutralize this grave threat, you will be looked upon most favorably as I assess the needs of the Imperial Army.” He stated, rather coldly in your opinion. He didn’t even bother to bid the squad farewell before stepping up the stairs and walking out to the hallway. 
Once he was out of sight you visibly deflated. 
“We need to gear up,” Hunter nodded to you, “Try and find out what you can.”
“But keep yourself safe.” Echo chimed in, “We can talk when we get back.” He put his hand on your shoulder in comfort.
You missed how Tech perked up, noticing the ARC troopers change in attitude with you. He remained silent however, not finding the benefit of saying anything.
“Just…be careful,” You looked up at him, “Please…”
“We can handle it.” Hunter put a hand on his hip, “Whatever gets thrown at us.” he motioned for his team to follow. The squad couldn’t waste anymore time. They had to gear up and go on this mission the Admiral wanted. 
You bid them good luck and returned to your clinic. Once you were at your desk, you furrowed your brow. Your gut was telling you this was wrong. 
Everything is so….wrong. 
Tarkin wanted clone health files…
Why? What could he need them for? Assessing the clones' health? Their genetic data? See how useful they could be to this new Empire? What if he found their health lacking? Would the clones be decommissioned? Reconditioned? 
…you refused to give them to him.
Your hand opened a drawer and wrapped around a datachip. You had plenty of them, you were a scientist after all.
There were nearly countless health files on the clone troopers. Beyond millions. You’d need more than just the one chip in your hand. Not to mention the couple years of your own research into anti-aging medicine. 
You got to work. The first set of files you saved was everything involved in your clinic. Those would be the easiest to get afterall. That was your system. They were your patients. Everything was yours.
Next was your research. You’d be damned if Tarkin got his slimy hands on your work. 
Your clinic doors opened, causing you to jump. 
Omega approached, “What…are you doing?” Her brown eyes were on you, wide and curious.
You looked at her. She was so innocent. So naive. But could she feel the danger? The anxiety? 
“I’m saving all the data I can.” You stepped away from your desk, kneeling to her eye level, “I don’t trust Tarkin. I don’t trust Nala Se…So I’m saving all the data I can on these datachips.” Your palm opened, revealing the pieces of pure data and files, “Omega…Go to Clone Force 99…warn them. ask to go with them. Tell them I sent you. Get off of Kamino.”
They’d think you're paranoid. But you couldn’t risk this little girl. Every cell in your body told you there was danger around.
She nodded, “Ok…But what are you going to do?”
“Whatever I can.” You responded, “Now go.” 
Once she was out of your clinic and you were alone, you returned to your desk. There were still some files you needed to save. Halfway through the download, it hit you.
How far were you going to help the clones?
If you stole this data, you’d be arrested.
You weren’t one of them. You treated them, yes. They were your patients. But you were a scientist. You weren’t a member of the GAR. You would always be an outsider to them. 
…Echo never looked at you like an outsider.
Oh…Echo.
You liked him. Cared for him deeply. There was affection for him you didn’t have for the others. A feeling in your heart whenever he looked at you. A certain happiness whenever you saw him smile.
Download complete. 
You paused before grabbing the datachip. 
How far would you be willing to go for Echo?
Your hand wrapped around the chips and you put them in your pocket.
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distantdarlings · 1 year ago
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HABITUAL // t. nott
RATING: PG-13 / 4.3K WORDS
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Theodore Nott x Fem Reader Insert (Requested)
+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this (changed slightly)* Annoyed that Theo won't seem to make a move, despite your growing feelings for each other, you ask a friend of the both of you to help make him jealous.
+ WARNINGS - Language, brief sensuality, kissing, two time skips, making Theo jealous, brief fake-dating
+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -
Ribs - Lorde
---
Professor Trelawney’s voice droned on as your quill lazily scratched across your notebook. You were between listening to what she was saying and sleeping, and your brain slowly tilted toward the second. She was rambling on about the properties of a crystal ball above all other vectors for sight-seeing. Something about its curvature made the answers come to you clearer…
Your quill tip ran dry and made a slightly louder scratch against the parchment, sending a nasty shudder down your spine. Your eyes darted over to your inkwell and noticed that it was practically empty. A deep sigh ran through your body, depressing your shoulders. Why was it you always ran out of something when you needed it most? Maybe grabbing a replacement would wake you up a bit. You raised your hand and waited for the long-winded professor to catch sight of it.
“Oh, yes, what is it?” she stared at you through her hugely magnified glasses, tilting her head back slightly to catch that sweet spot in them. 
“I’ve run out of ink. I was just wondering if I could—” A tap on your shoulder interrupted your question. You turned towards the owner of the hand and spotted Theodore. A small smile spread across your lips as a small backup inkwell was displayed in his hand. You nodded your thanks and grabbed it from him, intending to let the professor continue her lecture.  
“Never mind that, Professor Trelawney!” you said, flashing a brief smile at the eccentric woman. She nodded and continued as if she’d never stopped. You wondered when she’d take her next breath.
“You’re welcome, gorgeous,” a small whisper said next to your ear. You smiled at Theo’s flirtatious nature, knowing he’d use this little favor to ask for something in return later. He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek before backing up. You rolled your eyes, promising to get him back for that.
By the end of class, your stomach was growling, and your mind was exhausted. It was a good thing you didn’t have divinity again until Wednesday because you didn’t think you’d make it if you didn’t get a small break from her each week. And thank Merlin, your next class wasn’t until after lunch. 
You gathered your things and let them slide into your bag. The boys behind you had begun to do the same as you headed towards the door. They were always behind you for whatever reason. You weren’t sure. Maybe it was just a boy thing. 
“Hey!” Theo’s voice came from behind you. You turned to catch him jogging toward you with his hands tightened around his bag straps. You stopped and flashed a smile, watching as his eyes briefly flashed down to your lips. You withheld any physical reaction so as not to embarrass him. “Are you still eating with us?”
“Of course, I am,” you say, “I always do. It wouldn’t be a good day without having lunch with my favorite boy.” You gently touched your thumb and forefinger to his chin, teasing him just a bit. You saw his lips part as soon as your skin came into contact with his—just as it always did. 
“I’m your favorite boy?” he chuckled, letting a smirk fall over his lips. He readjusted his bag over his shoulders. Your fingers came up to separate your collar from your neck, allowing just a breath of skin to flash over his eyes. You watched as he glanced down at every inch of you that was revealed to him, and his throat slid up nervously. You could play him like a piano, and it was addicting. 
“Am I interrupting something?” Mattheo asked, coming up behind the two of you. His voice sliced the tension between the two of you in half. 
“Nope, we were just getting ready to head down to the Great Hall,” you replied. “Are you eating with us?”
“Duh, who else am I going to eat with?” Mattheo asked. You rolled your eyes at him and looped your arm through Theo’s, allowing him to lead the way to the dining hall. Enzo quickly jogged up beside the group, falling in step with the rest of them. Your big brother had a habit of always being the latest to the party. It was one of his many endearing qualities. 
Your group appeared before the vast doors of the Great Hall, allowing them to quickly swallow you all up as you realized that everyone else was just as starving as you were. You selected your usual seats at the far end of the long Slytherin table and dug in. Soon enough, yours and everyone else’s plates were piled high with the many options laid out before you.
“Merlin, help us all….if that wasn’t the most boring class yet,” Mattheo sighed into his food. The rest of you laughed at his confession, all nodding in agreement. Trelawney’s class was rarely exciting, but when it was boring, it was really boring. 
“The only bit of excitement was you asking for some new ink,” Theo nodded toward you, a bit of a roll pressed between his teeth. You smiled and shook your head.
“And, of course, you were there, right to the rescue,” you laughed. “I was hoping I could leave the class and grab a replacement from my dorm to wake myself up a little.”
“My bad, I thought I was helping.”
“You were…unfortunately,” you replied. The four of you laughed in response, knowing well enough that they all had done something to try and get out of the squirrely professor’s class. A comfortable silence ensued soon after as the group finished up their meals and let the large meal settle sweetly on their stomachs.
“I’m really tired now,” you groaned, laying your head down against the table. You felt a hand reach over and gently brush its fingers along your hair. You assumed it was Theo, as he habitually absentmindedly touched you somehow. You figured you were a sort of stress ball to him. A small laugh touched your chest at the thought. 
“Teddy, can I sit on your lap?” you asked, already knowing his answer.
“Of course, love, come here,” he responded. The three boys had begun to discuss some kind of new broom headed towards the Quidditch market, and, to be entirely honest, you couldn’t care less about it. All the more reason for you to doze off just a bit in Theo’s lap. You pulled yourself up and stepped over your side of the bench. You walked around the edge of the table, sleepily approaching Theo. Though his attention remained on his friends, his legs slid open and his arm pushed out, allowing you to be able to slip onto his lap. 
You gently grabbed his shoulder and stepped between his legs, settling yourself on his lap. Once you were seated, his arm slid firmly around your waist, sliding his fingers comfortably beneath the waistband of your skirt. You set your head on his shoulder, pressing your face close to his neck, letting your lips brush his skin every once in a while. If he could avoid any romantic feelings from this, he either genuinely disliked you or was utterly numb to all physical affection. 
Your goal for the last few weeks was to muster up every bit of courage the universe had blessed you with and completely take it out on Theo. The feelings and the tension sustained between the two of you were too obvious for it to mean nothing. He had feelings for you, you’d bet your final grade on it.
Just as your lips brushed his skin a third time, you noticed a trail of chills travel down the back of his neck. He shuddered slightly. You suppressed a smile. Just a little bit more…
“Teddy,” you whispered in his ear. He all but jumped and turned to look at you.
“What is it, darling?” he asked, sucking his bottom lip roughly between his teeth. Your eyes watched the motion for a few seconds before popping back up to his eyes.
“I was just wondering if you wanted me to rub your back a bit?” you asked, smiling innocently. “I know how sore it gets after Quidditch practice.” 
His eyes glanced between your lips and your eyes, savoring every detail of your face. The front of his pants tightened a bit, pushing a small adjustment out of him. He grabbed your waist, lifted you gently, slid his legs forward and farther apart, then set you back down. Heat pooled in your lower stomach at his ability to pick you up like it was nothing. Damn it, you had a raging crush on him.
“Uh, no, darling,” he breathed, eyes fully pulling away from you now. “I’m alright, maybe another time…and, actually, I think I’ll just…” he trails off, gently sliding you off his leg and onto the seat next to him. Disappointment and rejection swirl in your chest with every aching breath. He’d never done anything but be affectionate with you, but for some reason, he was acting off today. 
He got to his feet, completely avoiding all eye contact, and headed off from the table with another word. Your lips parted in surprise as you watched him walk off towards the exit. The boys behind you had stopped talking, and you turned to catch their attention.
“What is his problem?” Mattheo asked.
“I have no idea,” you respond slowly, glancing back toward the double doors as if he might walk in again. 
xxx
Later that evening, after all of your classes for the day had ended and dinner was revving up in the Great Hall, you sat on your bed, torn between a couple of things. For one, you were starved and wanted to grab some dinner; two, you were too scared you’d bump into Theo while you were down there and add a second painfully awkward interaction to the day; and three, your stomach was churning so violently with nerves and nausea, you were sure you’d puke if you ate anything or had one more thought about Theodore Nott. 
Every time lunch popped into your head again, you nearly hurled. That was easily one of the most embarrassing things that had ever happened to you, and you’d fallen off your broom during Quidditch while the whole school was watching. 
Maybe he’d lost feelings for you. That would explain the strange distance between the two of you today. But it didn’t make sense why it was so sudden. Had you upset him or made him uncomfortable today? You weren’t sure. Your brain ached from all of the contemplating and speed runs of scenarios you’d been doing the past hour. 
You could ask Enzo or Mattheo to see if they had any insight into their friend’s brain, but you figured that might be a little rude. You didn’t want Theo to think you were a coward or were trying to talk about him behind his back. Fuck.
Then, as if he was summoned by the force of your mind, Mattheo Riddle gave a brief knock and presented himself in the doorway. A smile pulled its way across your face at the appearance of the dark boy. You waved him over and gave a small pat to the space beside you.
“Hey,” he said, sliding himself beside you.  
“What’s up?” He kicks his shoes off and props his feet onto the bed, one resting comfortably over the other.
“Nothing much. I was just coming to see if you knew what was up with Theo today?” he asked, crossing his hands over his stomach.
“Actually, I was just thinking of coming to ask you or Enzo that,” you admit. “I have no idea what happened today. We didn’t talk the rest of the day.”
“Weird…” Mattheo trailed off. There were a few moments of empty silence as the two of you rested against your headboard, basking in each other’s company. After a while, his arm came up to slide around your shoulders. You slid closer to him and rested a head on his shoulder, the collar of his shirt gently tickling your nose. 
If you could remain like this for the rest of forever, you would. Mattheo had always been like another brother to you. Another overprotective Enzo to watch over you in everything you did, and, as annoying as that sounded (and sometimes was), you really did appreciate having them around you. You enjoyed Theo in that way, as well, though you admit that you wish something more would bloom between the two of you. A thought pops into your head.
“Matty,” you breathe, your eyes widening significantly. His eyes follow yours to see if he could catch what had shocked you so much.
“What?” He quirked an eyebrow.
“If I ask you for the hugest favor on earth, would you do it?”
“Well, that is kind of vague,” he points out, “what is the favor?” He watches you for a few moments as you struggle with what to say. A million details are running through your head, with possibilities and worst-case scenarios flashing around, making everything seem like one big, jumbled mess in your brain. But, despite the cacophony of opportunities flying around in your head, one thesis stood clear.
“Would you help me make Theo jealous?” you ask. Mattheo choked on his spit. The face he gives you makes you laugh out loud.
“I’m sorry?” he asks.
“I want you to help me make Theo jealous, like, you know, pretend to date me for a few days.” 
“Are you joking? Theo would kill me. I’m not risking that!” he exclaims, removing his arm from behind you to cross them. 
“Please, Matty, I’d never ask you for another favor again!”
“No! He already likes you. Why don’t you just ask him out?” he asks. You knew that Theo had feelings for you, just as he knew you had feelings for him, but hearing Mattheo confirm that aloud had you blushing. You supposed there was always the possibility you were wrong about Theo liking you and the two of you were just friends, but friends didn’t look at each other like the two of you did with eyes full of longing and hot lust. 
“Because I’m too nervous. I want him to make the first move,” you explain. He pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. A deep sigh pushed through his nose as he appeared to be contemplating. You waited in silence for a few moments, allowing him to weigh his options, though you knew what his answer would be. He never told you no.
“Alright—” 
“Yes! Oh, thank you, thank you! I promise I’ll make it up to you!” You threw yourself onto him, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck. He groaned at the sudden weight flung over him and reluctantly held you back. You could practically hear him rolling his eyes but, no matter how close he got to Theo, he’d always had a soft spot for you. You smiled and pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“Okay, okay, back up,” he sighed. “How do we do it?” 
“So, this was my plan…” 
You went over every detail of the well-thought-out plan you’d devised over the last few hours, making sure to leave nothing out. Every few moments, Mattheo’s eyebrows would raise, or he would start to protest, but he never backed out. And if he tried to, you’d just beg him some more.
So once you’d gone over everything successfully, you had Mattheo lead you downstairs with your fingers intertwined together. This had to work. 
The two of you stalked into the Great Hall, your stomach churning with anxiety and Mattheo’s preparing himself to run if needed. Your fingers squeezed his every so often, trying to wring the nerves out but failing miserably. Your eyes landed on the group sitting at your table and you made your way over.
“Hey, guys…” Enzo started and trailed off as his eyes traced the two of you, falling to where the two of you met in the middle. At Enzo’s sudden silence, Theo turned to look at the two of you. Your intertwined fingers clenched tightly, Mattheo’s thumb lightly tracing yours. 
“Hey,” you said, smiling sweetly. You avoided all eye contact as the two of you sat down beside Enzo, with you directly across from Theo. Mattheo’s arm wrapped around your shoulders and you leaned into him. Still, you refused to look at Theo, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see his eyes widened and lips slightly parted. 
“Friendly tonight, are we?” Enzo asked, stabbing a bit of potato with his fork. He seemed to be hiding a smile. You shot him a knowing glance.
“Shut up,” you joke. “We’ve just…”
“Gotten a bit closer?” Mattheo pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead, and you giggled in response. Damn, this acting deserved an award. You glanced at Theo's fist tightening, joints cracking slightly.
“Since when?” he asked, his voice baring through gritted teeth. Your eyes found him finally and your smile dropped a bit.
“Since he asked me out earlier today,” you retorted, the attitude laid on just a bit. His lips snapped shut and his eyes glanced away. He seemed less confident now, because—you hoped—he’d figured out your irritation with his refusal to move forward with your relationship.
“So, are you guys a thing now?” Enzo asked, not bothered in the slightest.
“You could call us that,” you giggled, fake-teasing Mattheo. Nerves broiled in your stomach as you discreetly pinched his hip. That had been the code the two of you had come up with to signal when you were going to do your kiss. This was going to be the big sale and it had to be realistic.
He leaned down and gently cupped your bottom lip with his, sending a wave of butterflies to your stomach. Damn, he was a good kisser. You pressed your lips back into him, admiring the feel of him. In all reality, the kiss only lasted about five seconds, but under the heat of the eyes before you, it felt like hours. When he pulled away, you flashed him a small smile.
Theo rose quickly and headed to the door, never once looking back. This has been the second time in one day he’d stormed off and you felt a bit embarrassed, to be honest. Maybe this wasn’t going to have the desired effect. You groaned and set your head against the table.
“Not working out for you?” Enzo chuckled.
“Shut up!” you shouted into your arms, the sound muffled. 
“You know…” Mattheo was right at your ear. You glanced up at him, tilting your head to the side. “You’re a pretty good kisser.” A smirk spread across his lips. You blushed
“Ugh, stop, Matty…you’re a good kisser too.” The three of you burst out laughing, reveling in the appreciation of each other’s company, before remembering why you were here. You really didn’t want to continue with this, it made you feel guilty, and there was always the chance this wouldn’t work. You sighed. You would have to go big or go home, and you weren’t a quitter.
xxx 
The next morning was a Saturday and Mattheo and you had planned a fake picnic date by the Whomping Willow. The plan was to enjoy a meal right within sight of where Theo was going to toss a Quaffle around with a couple of his friends. This had to work or you risked ruining your relationship with Theo. You prayed that this would give him the confidence to approach you. 
The two of you set the blanket and snacks out, settling in and beginning to eat. Enzo said that he had overheard that Theo was going to head out around eleven. It was currently fifteen ‘till, so you figured it wouldn’t be too long. Or you hoped that, anyway.
“So, what if this doesn’t work?” Mattheo breaks the silence, nursing a small bottle of pumpkin juice. 
“I was just thinking about that,” you laughed nervously, “I don’t actually know. I’m hoping he won’t hate me, but I’m more concerned he will hate you too.”
“I’m not too concerned about that. It’s alright. I’m just happy to help.” 
“Are you sure you don’t want anything in return?” you ask, peeling the crust off your sandwich. 
“I’ll just hang onto the favor for a rainy day,” he smirks. You roll your eyes and laugh gently. 
Above the two of you, a group of four players on brooms soar over you. You gasp and scoot closer to Mattheo, getting into position. He wrapped his arm around you and started to pretend to joke about something with you. You glanced Theo watching the two of you every so often. He would look for only a few seconds before turning his head away when his friends called his name. If he wasn’t careful, he was going to get hit in the head with the Quaffle (in which case, you’d laugh, but now wasn’t the time for that). 
“You know,” Mattheo started, “this is nice. We should do this more often.”
“What, have picnics?” you laugh, popping a grape into your mouth. 
“Sure, if you want,” he chuckled. “I just meant the hanging out part. I feel like I only see you whenever your brother’s around.”
“Yeah, it’s almost like he’s my brother and I love him,” you laughed. He shook his head in an attempt to hide his smile, but soon enough, the both of you were laughing. His head was thrown back as it racked his body, and your hand gripped his shirt sleeve to steady yourself.
“Hey, I need to talk to you—” The two of you snapped out of your moment of comedy at the sound of a voice. Your eyes squinted against the sun slightly before making contact with Theo. Mattheo glanced over at you and shrugged his shoulders, urging you on with his hand. Theo reached down and offered you his hand, which you took and allowed him to pull you to your feet. He marched the two of you over to the nearest courtyard, never letting go of your hand. Your stomach flushed.
“Theo, what is—?” He pulled you to a stop behind one of the courtyard’s stone pillars. Your eyes found his; the only sound was the slight breeze and the gurgle of the fountain behind him. He glanced down to your lips, his breaths exiting in heavy pants. Merlin, you wanted to kiss him.
“I have to ask you one question,” he said. You started to speak, but his thumb pressed gently against your bottom lip. “No, just wait one minute.”
His eyes fell to the ground between the two of you. It appeared that he was trying to figure out precisely what he wanted to say. His lips parted several times, the words of confession dancing along the edges of them. The frustration in his eyes set off an ache in your chest that you couldn’t suppress. You wanted to kiss him so bad, so bad, so bad. 
“One question…and then I’ll leave you alone,” he said. You nodded slowly. “Do you really like Mattheo? Is that why the two of you are together?”
Your eyes widened in surprise. That was definitely different from what you thought he was going to ask. You stuttered a few times before shutting your mouth. You didn’t know what to say. His eyes refused to leave yours, beckoning every inch of the truth out of you. He wanted to know if your feelings toward him were the same as his towards you. He fought the urge to reach out and press his lips against yours. Just one word, and he would. You sighed.
“No,” you confessed, “I don’t.” His stomach flipped. Yours did, too. You wanted to explain yourself, run through every detail of the plan devised between Mattheo and you but you were too ashamed. Luckily, he didn’t care why you were with Mattheo, other than you didn’t care for the boy as he previously thought you’d done. His hands slid easily along your cheeks, carefully tracing the soft skin there. He was testing the waters, wanting so badly to touch you and anticipating the possibility of a slap. 
“Can I ask one more question?” he whispered against your lips, the salty taste of his sweat dabbing against the tip of your tongue. You nodded breathlessly.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his eyes never leaving your parted lips. You didn’t answer. You pressed your lips roughly to his, hearing the sharp intake of breath he took as his hands tightened around your head. He held you in place, pressing you against the stone pillar behind you. Your hands came up to wrap around his waist, clenching the material of his shirt beneath your fingers. His hands dropped to the front of you, pushing you tightly against the pillar, fingers curving against your hipbones. Fuck. You were such a coward; you should have done this ages ago. 
When the two of you finally parted, reluctantly choosing air over each other, you did nothing but stare at the other. Heavy pants left the two of you; your hands clutched the other’s bodies, leaving little space between the two of you. Neither of you had words. All he could think to do was fold you into a tight hug. His arms wrapped around you with a hold like a vice. Your head turned and tucked itself into his shoulder where it had rested so many times before. And through your contentedly parted eyes, you could distantly see Mattheo, on the picnic blanket, smugly raising his pumpkin juice bottle to the two of you.
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orchidyoonkook · 1 year ago
Text
The Devil Wears Valentino | MYG
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Title: The Devil Wears Valentino  
Pairing: Devil!Min Yoongi x (F)!Reader
Rating//Genre: (M) | One Shot, Spooky AU, Supernatural Creatures AU, Not Quite Friends to Lovers, Age Gap, Technically Slice of Life, Angst, Smut and Fluff
Summary: Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty.
Warnings: language, violence, tae is a menance, drinking and alcohol, Min Yoongi as the Devil -> Lucifer Morningstar? we dont know him, mentions of murder, mentions of torture, mentions of rape -> Sal's an ass and he deserved what he got, somewhat graphic gore/horror (yoon tries her best but she's not very good at spooky), slight POV switches, one (1) mention of reader having hair, fluffy in parts,
Explicit warnings under the cut.
Word Count: 10,488
Release Date: October 31, 2023, 12:00PM
A/N 1: Ahhhh! Welcome to my very first halloween special!!! I wanted to do something for my favourite holiday this year, and I've had this title written down without a plot for maybe just over a year? So I'm really excited to finally use it!!
A/N 1.5: Thank you to my absolute darling @katykatmeow for beta'ing this for me so late in the night. I adore you so much
A/N 2: The whiskey glass and whiskey are hand drawn vectors because I'm a glutton for punishment. Why do I keep doing this to myself.
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Explicit Warnings: ahaha uhhh, unprotected sex (dont be stupid) kissing, breast play, fingering, oral (f rec), groping, pet names (sickening amount), dirty talk, praise, slight degredation, hair pulling (m rec), spitting, handjob, body worship, cowgirl, from the back, missionary, a lil bit of crying, spanking, size kink, voice kink, hand kink (look, he's a lot okay, don't blame reader), sl*t/wh*re mentions, multiple orgasms, creampie, I think thats it? Yoon went a little bananas with this one.....
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Slow jazz floats through the air of the club, wading around the modestly-sized venue. You’d say it was almost cozy, but with the expensive feel of the place, cozy just didn’t seem like the right word. 
Intimate. That would be a better choice. 
From behind the bar where you stand, to the velvet couches in the back covered by decently dressed lesser demons, piano plays alongside gentle drums. Dark navy cushions soak in their conversation of effective torture methods, discussed like stock market trends, they dissect the best way to decapitate someone so you can instill the most pain and suffering. 
The answer is always with a dull knife and from the back, blindly. Never knowing when the next cut will be is half the agony. 
You try not to pay attention to that though, because the only thing you need to know is that they drink Vodka Tonics and lesser demon number four’s glass is looking to be on the emptier side.
He’ll be back for another soon.
While you wait for his arrival, the rhythmic notes continue on, gliding along shiny, black floor tiles. They pass the burgundy leather booths that face the stage, full of vampires trying to relive long lost youth in the old melodies played. They turn to stone just a little bit more with every passing minute they’re forced to live, keeping no company besides the pleasant burn down their throats and ever present melancholy. 
Banshees listen in from the mezzanine, only ever soft spoken when they’re here. Covered by velvet draped ceilings that dampen sounds to the outside world, the women of three distinct ages sit at tall tables. The young in heels and short dresses, proudly showing off their youth, while the elders choose more elegant wares, content as they can be in their skin, considering their blood soaked pasts. 
Banshees tend to discuss privately amongst themselves, ordering walk up service so as to never mingle with the men on the floor. You can’t blame them, especially knowing how they all got here in the first place, but they’re polite when they enter, greeting you kindly despite what you are to them. The trays you bring up for them never waver from their drink of choice, The Irish Sour.
And then there are the Djinn, who come in mostly just to pass the time. Sitting by themselves at the bar, or in no more than groups of two at a far table, they never interact with anyone other than the bartender or themselves. Djinn are increasingly solitary creatures of the night, with the fear of their kind lessening in mortals, you’re starting to see less and less of them as the days pass, and you’re almost sad to see them go. 
Djinn are your favourites. They come in, order, keep to themselves, and then leave. It’s a nice change from the usual light conversation you’re forced to keep with patrons. Plus their orders are always easiest, as they only drink virgin. It’s a bit of a blow to the bar aspect of the establishment, but they come for the atmosphere, grateful to have a place they can exist with like minded folk—even if they don’t interact. There’s a comfort in familiarity, you guess.
Occasionally some other creatures of the night mix into the masses; fae, chimera, leprechauns, goblins, et cetera. All dressed in their nicest clothes to accommodate your work's dress code, all here for peace from their day jobs, to drown their sorrows, or somewhere in between. 
Some come for an hour, others come for the night, but it’s mostly just your regulars who tend to remain, as do their drink orders. It’s a relatively easy job, and you don’t mind the company. 
Most of the time.
You’ve just finished serving the lesser demon from earlier when your coworker bugs you for the hundredth time tonight. 
“I don’t get why you're so hellbent on this, Y/N. If you’re closing, he’s coming. Because he always comes when you're closing. It’s simple math.”
“No he doesn't,” you dismiss Taehyung, a cocky but rather beautiful incubi, annoyedly. Taehyung is the type that knows he’s pretty and uses it to his every advantage, including being able to say whatever he wants and get away with it. And it would piss you off except it works on you too.
Fucking incubi demons…
You were one of only two mortal bartenders, the other being Lia, a cute blond who only works here for the tips. The boss likes to keep a couple humans on staff in case any wanderers stupid enough to come inside a den of nocturnal, evil creatures didn’t catch the vibe and immediately fuck off. 
You’d be surprised at how shitty some people's self preservation instincts are.
You asked your boss once—a very large, very well built, very well connected vampire—why he bothered having a layer of protection for them. His only response was: “Business is business.”
Plus he knows he can’t have a trail of bodies that lead directly to his club's front steps, so he keeps a couple of mortals around just in case. This way, with you two here, there was always someone who knew all the drinks the humans could have, and someone to keep all the greedy eyes around the venue in check, as you have banning and kicking out privileges. 
Because where you saw Kin, your regulars saw food, a hunt, or a job. They saw something to be taken advantage of or killed. They saw poor, weak, pathetic little mortals that should’ve been eradicated centuries ago had their ancestors been smarter. 
They are the superior beings in their eyes, your race is just a bug to be squashed under their proverbial boot. 
It makes you worry what they think of you. Is the only thing that stops them from devouring you whole the fact that you make their drinks just the way they like it, that you have a use in serving them? Or do they respect you enough now that you understand how to act around them and know what they’re like? What they are. 
You worry, but you’ll never know the truth because you aren’t stupid enough to ask and show weakness. They can smell that shit from a mile away, and all it does is paint a 30 foot wide target on your back. 
“Yes he does. I bet you tonight's tips he’ll be here in the next two hours,” Taehyung presses. 
And ooohh, a night’s worth of tips, bragging rights, and winning a bet against Tae all sound way too good damn to pass up. 
“You’re delusional,” you say, holding out a hand. Tae grabs and shakes, as you agree to his terms. “And you’re on, don’t come crying when you lose.” 
There’s no way he’ll show up. It’s Friday night, the night of sin, he’s going to be up to his eyeballs with work…stuff.
“Easiest money I’ve ever made,” Taehyung grins, and with the confidence in which he does, you begin to second guess your own.
It’s not that you did or didn’t want him to show up, it’s just that your relationship with him is…complicated at best. You never really knew how to navigate a conversation with him outside of surface level banter and jokes, but it’s always been like that with you two.
Having known him for years—from a small mistake on your behalf, and a favour on his—you’re one of the only people he seems to be able to put up with for company. Certainly the only one he’s half-way decent with. But what’s more surprising to you is that despite his name, reputation, and the fact he’s always joked he’d have killed anyone else by this point, is that he’s never once tried to cause you harm. 
Actually, he’s almost…protective of you. In his own weird way.
And obnoxiously flirty. 
But you could never. Not with who and what you are, and who and what he is. 
Regardless of how you fight the heat down in your cheeks every time you see him, and how your heart flutters against your will in multiple places in your body at even the thought of being near him.
Regardless of the fact that you shut him down every time he suggests anything more than an over the bar conversation, and the way your panties seem to always dampen in his presenc–fuck. 
It’s happening again. Stop thinking about it, stop, stop st–wait. You turn, seeing the violet ichor in Tae’s eyes and you know the bitch is using his power on you. You flip the asshole off and he chuckles.
He’s been trying to get you to change your mind ever since the first time he saw you deny yourself. 
“You know I can tell when you’re hot and bothered right? Incubus, remember? It’s literally part of who I am.” 
To which you think again, fucking incubi…
Your most infamous regular is, to quote your favourite tv show, ‘the bane of your existence and the object of all your desires,’ and you will never, ever entertain his annoying, disgustingly hot ass more than you already do. Not after everything you went through the first—and last—time with a creature of the night. 
You learned your lesson.
So instead, you try to think of him more like an old friend. The kind that’s actually really old already, but looks amazing for his age. The kind that makes shivers run up your spine when he talks to you in the deepest, most gravel turning voice you’ve ever heard, that you also ignore out of pure self preservation. He’s the kind that you shove out of your thoughts at night when your alone and in desperate need of relie—Fucking Taehyung! 
You whip your head around to search for the violet eyed incubus, only to see him across the bar helping some stocky vampire. And you’re about a hair's breadth away from ripping him a new one in front of said vampire when the idle hum of chatter in the bar ceases and the band’s calming music falters into missed notes and a cymbal crash that's too hard; awkward, painful silence remaining.
From behind you, you can hear the front door close, followed by light footsteps that grow louder and louder. Only once the seat directly behind you creaks with the sound of being occupied, does the chatter and music resume.
Which can only mean one fucking thing. 
You just lost all your tips for the night. 
Tae’s shit eating grin as he looks over your shoulder confirms it. 
Fuck. 
“Excuse me,” the bottom of the ocean floor speaks and you make a conscious effort not to react.
“Ardbeg Single Malt, neat?” You throw over your shoulder, not bothering to look just yet. 
You know precisely where he sits. And he knows you know. 
“Sounds perfect,” he responds, and you focus on ‘looking for the bottle.’ 
You know exactly where it is.
No one else will touch it. 
Taehyung busies himself with bringing an order of Bloody Mary’s down to a booth on the floor, knowing he’ll be burned alive if he so much as looks at a whiskey glass. 
No one serves him but you. 
But more importantly, nobody disrespects you in front of him. A lesson your ex–see: dead–coworker, Sal, learned the hard way. His burn mark is still seared onto the floor behind you. 
You’d almost felt bad that day, but he was a lust demon who touched you without your permission, hit on you every five minutes, and when you said no, treated you like shit.
You’d been close to dousing him with vodka and lighting him up yourself, but the man tapping his fingers on the bar behind you beat you to it 15 seconds after sitting down one night last year. 
After shoving Sal off you for the fourth time that night, he was pissed. Whispering obscenities to himself loud enough so you would hear,
“Fucking stupid mortal bitch, maybe next time I’ll just drag you into an alley do whatever the fuck I want. Nobody here’s going to stop me. And maybe then you’ll learn to shut up with this dick in your cunt and my fingers down your throat, huh? Leave you to rot with the garbage where you belong after you’re all used up.”
He didn’t take another breath. 
A single burst of blistering flame had Sal reduced to ashes in seconds. You’d felt the heat from it, but your skin remained burn free, safe from its dangerous blaze. The lust demon from then on only existed as a smudge on the ground to be walked over.  
“Thanks,” You’d said.
“It’s where he belongs,”  he responded. 
Grateful for his kindness, you entertained him more than usual that night. Engaged in an actual conversation, about your birthday of all things. You had no idea why he wanted to know, but you considered the information his reward for helping you, and he seemed pleased with it.
But he was more than pleased. 
After years, you’d revealed something to him. Something personal.
He took it as a sign that he might be able to get you to change your mind one day, if he did everything just right. Having played the long game before, this was no different. The only thing different this time, was you. 
Maybe it was the way you walked with such confidence, or the way you never cowered in fear around him. Not the day you met nor any day after. Or maybe you were sent by his father just to mess with his head. He didn’t care. All he knew was what he wanted, and that he was more than willing to wait as long as was needed to get it. 
A nursery rhyme from your childhood plays in your head every time you see him. It never wavers, just like the eyes you can feel on the back of your neck, watching your experienced hands make his drink. 
Quietly, you recite it to yourself while you grab the bottle;
‘One for sorrow,
Two for joy,
Three for a girl,
Four for a boy,
Five for silver,
Six for gold,
Seven for a secret never to be told.’
You pour, steady hand making it last as long as you possibly can to gain a few more seconds to compose yourself. 
‘Eight for a wish,
Nine for a kiss,
Ten a surprise you should be careful not to miss,
Eleven for health,
Twelve for wealth,’
You put the bottle down and cork it before returning it to its place on the shelf. Taking a deep breath, you turn to finally face him, and change the wording of the last line to fit your situation better.
“One Ardbeg Single Malt neat, for the Devil himself.” 
He snickers, “I always liked that nursery rhyme. It’s cute. Like you, Angel.” 
You roll your eyes. To anyone else that would sound like a compliment. But coming from the Devil it’s more of an insult. One you know is meant in a playful way after all these years, crass in his humour, just like you. And you know he can take a little heat back.
“Wow, that’s a classic,” you grab a glass to polish, keeping your hands busy so they don’t do something stupid while you’re distracted. “Got one of those for you too, ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’” 
He chokes on a laugh before straightening on the barstool and putting on a face. “I don’t think that joke’s appropriate.” 
“Oh come on Yoongi, you come at me with ‘It’s cute, like you, Angel’ and I can’t poke back?” You ask, knowing full well his uncomfortable look is all an act. “I thought you didn’t have any feelings besides rage, lust and currently; insufferable flirting.”
You know the entire club listens in to your conversation. 
No one calls the Devil by his first name. 
Nobody speaks to the Devil unless spoken to. 
And no one makes jokes at the Devil’s expense and lives. 
No one except you. 
What a funny little exception you are.
Yoongi drops the act, a sly smirk that sends bubbles to your brain, replacing it. “So you admit my flirting isn’t always bad. Must be doing something right then.”
You force yourself not to slam a palm into your forehead. Of course that’s what he got out of your sentence.
You aren’t going to make his ego any bigger than it already is. 
“It isn’t working,”—fuck, yes it is—“if that’s what you’re asking. Can’t say I’m surprised though, I hear you’ve been out of the game for a couple millenia,” he quirks a brow at that. 
Ooo, that means you’re nearing thin ice, haven't been there in a while…Let’s see if you can slide around a bit more without falling in. 
“I mean, I’m sure you’ll get there eventually. If you stay consistent at your current rate of progress you could hit me up in,” you suck air in through your teeth and look at the ceiling, before checking a watch you don’t wear, pretending to think, “a thousand years?” You tease, a lilt in your tone. Because if Yoongi was going to make your shift this fucking difficult just by breathing near you, then you sure as Hell can do the same for his night. 
He chuckles like the coals of a fire and you cross your legs behind the bar. Motherfucker… 
“Someones got a mouth on them tonight,” he says, looking directly into your eyes as he takes his first sip, savouring the taste before swallowing. His tongue dips to his bottom lip for any remnants and you gulp, vision dropping for a millisecond—oh for the love of—and you finally notice what he’s wearing.
Much to your dismay and dwindling willpower, he looks fucking good. With only a white scarf to accent, the all black Valentino suit fits in perfectly with the bar’s dress code, as well as the long slicked back hair he’s only recently started to grow out. Just seeing it like this makes you want to run your hands through and mess it up. 
You’ve always had a thing for men with long hair, ever since you were young.
Jack Sparrow, Madmartigan, even The Winter Soldier. And come to think of it, none of them were exactly the good guys in their respective universes either…
Nope! No. You can’t. You can’t.
You can’t for so many reasons, so many good and bad and everything in between reasons. You’re nothing more than a flimsy human while he’s the Great Immortal Evil. The person people whisper the name of for fear of incurring his wrath. 
The King of Hell. 
He’s the person that walks into a room and everyone balks under his gaze, terrified of what he may do. He’s killed millions with no mercy. Doesn’t so much as think twice to horrifically burn someone where they stand to ash in hellfire for breathing the wrong way near him. He lavishes in the screams of sinners, punished in their own blood and bones, beaten into a shell of who they were in the nine circles of Hell. Left gaping, broken and sobbing in agony for their suffering to end. 
Yoongi is walking nightmares and visceral terror. He is merciless violence and brutality abandon. 
Yoongi is living, breathing, unyielding death wrapped up in deceivingly beautiful packaging. 
He is the epitome of someone you should not like, should not go near, and definitely should not want in the way the thrumming in your bones is telling you, you want him.
You have to stay away from him. 
But that doesn’t mean you can’t flirt back a little.
As salaciously as you can muster, you whisper low, “But it’s nothing you can’t handle,” and you swear you see a hint of surprise in Yoongi’s eyes, followed by something so much deeper that you have to look away under the guise of checking for any newcomers. 
It’s a dangerous game you’re playing. One you need to move the pieces of very, very carefully. 
There’s a handful of people waiting to be served, but none disturb Yoongi’s service. So you’re forced and relieved to cut the interaction short. For both the waiting patrons, and your sanity. 
“Enjoy the whiskey, Yoongi.”
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Yoongi doesn’t bother you for the rest of the night, instead he watches you help the other patrons and make drinks. No one dares sit within three seats of him on either side, so the booths and tables fill more than the bar does, forcing you to do more tray work than you like. And you think you can feel those eyes on the back of your neck travel elsewhere.
Soon after he takes his last sip, Yoongi leaves far too much cash on the table to cover a single drink, and you know Tae won’t include it in tonight's bet. He rather enjoys being alive. 
The first time he did this you tried to give it back, insisting it was too much. But one threat to Tae’s life had you accepting the outrageous amount he left you every time. Despite how much he gets on your nerves, you rather enjoy Taehyung's company on your shifts. And you didn’t want to risk having a new coworker like Sal again. 
Thank you, Yoongi. You silently think to yourself every time he does. His tips are one of the only reasons you’re able to take care of yourself so well. 
You live in an apartment you should not be able to afford on a bartender's wage. Eat well, buy all the brand name products for the skin care routine you could only dream of having as a teenager, and you’re able to get yourself a little treat every once in a while. 
All thanks to the one man the world claimed was the purest entity of evil there was. 
And maybe he is. 
But not to you. 
The rest of your night, and closing go smoothly. The journey home passes by in a flash and soon you’re flopping into your bed, asleep before you hit the pillow. 
You dream of Yoongi and Hellfire and things only your subconscious will let you. The thoughts that you force away every time you see him. 
The burn of his hands on your skin and his lips on your neck. The warmth that spreads over your entire body at the mere mention of your name from his lips. His tongue in places you wouldn’t dare allow him to even think about in the waking world. 
And you wake from an orgasm he wasn't in the waking world to give you. 
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It’s the last Saturday in October, which means it’s also your birthday.
You found it rather funny that the one person the Devil could stand to conversate with was born on his night. Maybe that’s coincidence or maybe that’s fate, either way you didn’t care, because you had it booked off work and you were going to a bar and dancing with your friends, dressed up in the sluttiest costumes you could find. 
Your recent visit with your birthday's namesake inspired your costume this year. Wearing the shortest, blood red leather dress you could find, the slits up the sides ran almost to your hips, and a corseted waist that made you feel sexy and fierce. You’d paired it with some velvet horns, a tail, pitchfork, crimson lace stockings and your most recent edition; red bottomed strappy stilettos. 
They’d been your birthday present to yourself, courtesy of Yoongi’s most recent tip. And needless to say, you felt hot as shit. No one could tear you down tonight.
All your friends met at your house before ridesharing down to a club. It’s loud, hazy, and filled with other Devil’s Night party goers as you arrive, smoke lingering in the air and you can feel the wave of dancing coming from further inside. 
Someone buys you your first round within a minute of being let in, lemon drop filling your taste buds as you knock back the shot. Another is ordered immediately after the first, it runs smoother and tastes like chocolate as you make your way to the dance floor. 
Aside from you, your friends are dressed up as a wild mix of characters. Rey is dressed as Daphne from Scooby Doo, Yaejin is Nezuko from Demon Slayer, Bryce is a gender bent Legolas from Lord of the Rings, Declan is Donatello from the Ninja Turtles, Cam is a ghost, and Trin is a character from a book you’ve never read. Something about dragons and magic and vermin—or was it venin? Whatever. But they were in all black and had used silver hair spray on the tips of their hair.
You let the alcohol make its way through your veins as you dance, loosening up. The DJ mixes songs together in a way that never has the crowd thinning out and you laugh as you move with your friends, swaying and rocking and grinding. 
You needed this.
A night out just to let go, have fun, forget everything and hopefully get lucky by the end of it. It’s been a while since you’ve taken anyone to bed, and birthday sex sounds amazing the more the lemon drop, and what you finally learned was a tootsie roll shot, settle into your system. 
You aren’t drunk by any means, but you are buzzed and having a blast. An orgasm sounds like the only thing that could possibly make this night any better. So you make your way around the dance floor, keeping one eye open for any potentials, but mostly just dancing with Rey and Cam. The others either grabbing another drink back at the bar or resting their legs in a booth. 
“Babe,” Rey says, hands around your neck with Cam behind you, hands on your hips. You all sway to the beat of the admittedly sensual song playing. 
“Yeah?” You ask, opening your eyes to meet hers and she leans in closer. 
You can hear the smile on her lips, “Major tall, dark and handsome at 9 o'clock has been eyeing you for at least a half hour. I say you ditch me and Cam and go enthrall the man with your company for a little while. We’ll be fine on our own.” 
Heating at her words you’re excited to see who’s gone and done half your job for you tonight when your eyes stop dead on target. 
In a private booth in the VIP section, blending in far too well with the mortals around him, he wears a button down black satin top and dress pants. Thick silver links adorn his neck, complimenting the hoops in his lobes as well as the mouth watering rings on his fingers and you’re quite sure the bottoms of his black leather shoes match the red of your own. 
Yoongi. 
God he looks good. Unfairly so. And he carries that knowledge with him in his movement. His confidence never wavering like a mortal’s would.
Aside from two twisting black horns you’ve never seen before protruding from his deliciously tousled hair—hair you still want to pull on until he’s making sounds no ones ever heard come out of his mouth before, now moreso than ever—Yoongi is a darker version of yourself. 
Except for him, it isn’t a costume, it’s real, real, real. 
And he looks like sin incarnate. 
Fitting. 
Fuck, you’re so screwed. What were all those reasons it could never work again? The ones that explain why you shouldn’t take the Devil home and let him fuck you into next Sunday?
Suddenly, you can’t remember any of them. Not when Yoongi’s eyes never leave your red-clad form as he sips on what you know to be subpar whiskey. Your core melts into lava at the way he looks up and down, taking all of you in like you’re the one thing on this planet he needs to survive, and he’ll stop at nothing and spare absolutely no one until he gets you. 
Rey gives Cam a look and their hands drop, allowing you to almost float over to where Yoongi lounges, maneuvering between bodies undulating to music that’s being deafened by the heartbeat in your ears.
When you reach him, you leave a somewhat respectable distance between you two, a step down from the dias the booth sits on. 
Seeing him so much clearer now, you almost whine. How does he look even better up close? You want to sit on his lap, his face, have him bend you over the table then flip you over and feast like a man starved. 
Fuck! No, you can’t. And you also can’t blame Tae for those thoughts either, he isn’t here.
They were all you. 
Maybe his plan was working after all…
“What are you doing here?” You manage, grateful that you hadn’t had more to drink, but even more grateful for the ones you did. You needed a little liquid courage right now, even if it turned your thoughts into gutter sewage.
What he doesn’t know can’t hurt you…right? You just have to keep a lid on it. The one that’s loosening the more you look at him.
“It’s your birthday,” he says, producing a small black box wrapped with a bow. “I have a gift.”
He…he got you a present? He’s never done that before. But then again, before last year, he never knew when it was.
“You remem—I—you didn’t have to get me anything,” you stutter ungracefully, mouth trying to keep up with your racing thoughts. “I already got these shoes with the tip you left me last time,” you say, extending your leg to show off your newest purchase. The action reveals more leg than you meant it too and he catches the garter you have pulled around your thigh.
A fire ignites in his eyes at the sight, and you can feel their sparks everywhere he looks. Starting at your toes and moving all the way up back to your pretty irises. 
“I’m flattered by the way,” he says. “In your costume choice.”
Huh? You look down and heat rises to your cheeks in a way it never has before. Oh fuck, oh fuck. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit!
Here you stand, before the actual Devil—horns out in all their glory—dressed as him on his namesake night. 
Of course this would happen to you, of course it would. This is what you get for fucking around. You found out. And you don’t know whether to be mortified, beg for forgiveness, or laugh yourself hoarse. 
Going with none of the above, you choose to play it off instead, the way you always do when he manages to fluster you. “Consider me inspired by how recently I last saw you,” you say, taking the single step up the dias and twirling for him. 
You show every angle of your costume you can, letting the booze in your system do its job of making you more confident than you currently are.
“What do you think?”  
Yoongi stands, taking the two strides needed to be face to face with you, his voice is quiet and even, so only you can hear.
“May I touch?”
You don’t hesitate. 
“Yes.” 
Yoongi reaches behind you and pulls the fake tail from the back of your dress, then the pitchfork from your grasp and throws them into the booth, not caring where they land.
“Mmm,” he hums, placing his hands on your hips and spinning you once more. Lightning strikes every single nerve ending where his fingertips meet your body. 
This time when he speaks, his voice is touched with the bit of demon that’s inside of him, dragging its claws along the floor of the 9th circle of Hell as he growls, “You’re perfect.” 
Your heart does backflips and cartwheels and nose dives all at once. You’ve never heard him sound like that before, and if your panties weren’t wet before, they definitely are now. 
Tugging gently, he guides you to the booth, sitting first before dragging you over his lap, knees meeting his hips. One of his hands rests on your thigh while the other reaches for something you can’t be bothered to figure out because oh my god, oh my god, you’re straddling him. Your straddling the Devil, dressed as the devil and probably already looking semi-fucked out while you do. This is probably a bad idea—no. This is definitely a bad idea. But you also have absolutely zero plans to stop literally anything that’s happening. 
The gift box makes a reappearance, and he hands it over to you. 
“Thank you,” you say automatically, trying and failing to ignore the fact that both of his hands now rest on your thighs. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…..
Undoing the little black bow, you open it, revealing a delicately simple necklace. Its light weight chain holding a small pink stone pendant. 
Beautiful. 
“Pink Tourmaline,” Yoongi says. 
“My birthstone,” you reply.
“Your birthstone.”
You stare at the little crystal, cut and polished to perfection. Not a single flaw.
“Yoongi I—I don’t know what to say. It’s incredible…Thank you,” you take it out of the box, profoundly grateful you decided not to wear a necklace tonight. “Could you help me put it on?”
“Of course, Angel,” he agrees. But this time when he says your nickname, it’s different. Like an unholy vow made only to you. 
Makes you wonder what he promised.
Regretfully removing yourself from his lap, you turn around, only to be dragged back down by strong fingers. 
Your ass is now flush against his dick, and it’s taking everything in you not to tease. Whether you’d be teasing him or yourself, you don't know, nor do you care. All you know is that friction can be a good thing if you want it to be. And you're starting to want it to be.
Lifting your hair for him, Yoongi fastens the necklace around your column, and to your complete and utter doom, places a gentle kiss at your nape. The simple contact makes you quietly moan, and you feel a twitch under you. 
Ohhh, this is bad, this is so bad. But you can’t bring yourself to stop him. Not when his hands roam up and down your back, your sides, your hips. Exploring, feeling, learning. You dissolve into the touch, welcoming every whisper of pleasure they bring. 
What is he doing to you?
“Angel,” Yoongi purrs in your ear. 
“Mmm?”
“Would you like to dance?”
Fuck would you ever, but wait— 
“Are you asking me if I’d like to Dance with the Devil?” you muse. 
Yoongi chuckles lowly, understanding the meaning behind your ask.
“Is that something you’d be interested in?” 
“Yes.”
You feel more than hear the dark rumble coming from his chest before he gently taps on your thigh. And you get up quickly. 
“That’s a good girl,” he says, and fuck could you ever get used to him saying that to you.
Fingers laced in his, he lets you guide him to the dance floor.
Both of you ignore what the DJ plays, instead moving to the rhythm you feel like. Slow, sensual, a hand on his neck while you grind into him. Fast and heated, bodies touching any and every place you can get contact. You’re putting on quite the show for anyone brave enough to watch. And you know at least a handful of the eyes you feel on you are your friends’. 
They don’t know about Yoongi.
They don’t know about the nature of the clientele at your job either, like every other human. They don’t know you're dancing with the most dangerous and volatile man in the room. And it’s better that way, because if they did, your ass would’ve been hauled out of the club and in a rideshare the second anyone saw him. 
You’ve never been more thankful for the figurative wall between worlds. And the fact that you stand on both sides. 
You brush up against his hardening dick and fuck, that’s it. 
You’ve decided. 
To hell with your reasons. To hell with the constant flirting and overuse of will power. 
To hell with letting your anxieties and your moral compass and your conscience get in the way of the one thing you’ve been denying yourself for years. 
You spin in Yoongi’s hold, looking straight into the darkened eyes of the most forbidden man you could ever want for yourself, only to see pure desire staring right back. It’s all you need before you’re crashing your lips to his, taking anything and everything you can get before one of you comes to your senses and pulls back. 
But his grip on you tightens like a vice, pulling you closer, bodies flush amidst the dancing crowd. He’s magnetic in his want, lifting a hand to the back of your neck and tracing the seam of your lips with his tongue.
You let him in without hesitation and he nearly swallows you whole with how he invades your mouth, claiming it for himself. It makes you moan and he lets up, if only to let you breathe for a moment, and you take this reprieve to whisper in his ear, finally giving in to what you crave more than anything.
“Let’s go to yours.”
“We should go to yours, Angel, mine’s a bit harder to get to.”
Because his is on another plane of existence. Not exactly a taxi ride away. At least not one you can get at the curb of the club. 
“Riiight.” A small dose of water washes over the fire in your core, and it’s like he can sense it because immediately, he’s pulling you back in. Nothing but teeth and lips and tongue, animalistic in the passion you’re displaying for everyone to see, the flames increasing tenfold.
Fuck, you don’t want to wait. 
And apparently neither does Yoongi. 
“Do you trust me?” He asks.
“Yes, but what does tha–”
“Close your eyes for me, Love.”
Any and all arguments fade on your tongue at the new pet name. So much warmer than Angel, so much more affectionate. 
So you close your eyes for him, no questions asked. Because you trust him. You trust the Devil. 
You trust Yoongi. 
“That's a good girl.” 
One hand goes to the back of your neck, the other your lower back as he kisses you gently. So gently you think it means something more, but the sounds of the club are fading away, and he’s leaning you down like he’s going to dip you before your back meets something soft. 
Are you closer to a booth than you thought? Is he really going to take you here in front of all those people? 
But when you open your eyes and your bedroom at your apartment fills your vision, you stiffen immediately.
What?
“I—but we were just—and now we’re he—and you—,” you stutter, amazed and unable to get the thoughts out fast enough before another takes its place. You manage a, “How?” and he catches on. 
Not halting his actions, “Consider it a job perk,” he explains, nipping at your neck. You let out a groan as he continues his way down your column towards your chest and you relax into his touch.
“Teleportation, in simple terms, but it’s a bit more complicated than that.”
Despite his mouth on your skin, you somehow find the clearness of mind to ask, “Did anyone see?” Thinking about your friends and the potential hundreds of onlookers.
Yoongi’s hands rest at top of the zipper that goes the entire length of your dress, allowing for both easy putting on and quick removal. Fingers tug gently on the slider, eyes meeting yours for consent. You nod, and he answers your question as he drags it down your body torturously slow, savouring every moment he’s worked so hard to get. 
He’s going to earn this privilege you’ve given him, if it's the last thing he does.
“No. And your friends won’t worry either.”
You don’t care how he knows that, not when he’s pulling off hot leather and devouring your curves with coal burning pupils. The cool air of your room causes goosebumps to rise everywhere, and your arms fly to your head, covering your eyes as you’re reminded you’d forgone a bra tonight. 
There was no room for one without it squishing your tits too much and ruining the look. So with your dress gone, Yoongi has a front row seat to your nearly nude form, a blood red lace thong the only thing keeping you semi-decent. 
Years of pining and denial have led up to this moment and Yoongi almost doesn’t know where to start now that he finally has you exactly where he wants you. That feeling doesn’t last long though.
Wasting no more time, he takes a breast into his palm, squeezing and massaging while he lowers himself to the other, lapping the nipple of the one neglected. His tongue swirls over the pert bud, sucking it into his mouth fully and you arch into his touch, reveling in the warmth he spreads across your chest. Hands reaching for the sheets above your head for something to ground you.
“Shit,” you can already feel your pulse in your ears, thundering behind your sternum, and booming lower. He’s barely touched you and you’re already so gone.
He switches his hand and mouth, soothing the other breast with the sinful muscle he’s teased you with after all these years drinking whiskey. And by god if you don’t immediately think what it could do in other places. He’s had thousands of years to practice and the gush you feel in your panties lets you know exactly how you feel about the idea. 
Using his free hand, Yoongi traces down your back, rounding your ass and squeezing hard enough to make you hiss in pleasure before settling on the back of your thigh. 
You can barely stand having his hands so close to your molten heat without having any contact, and it leaves you begging, “Please…Please…”
You feel the curve of his lip quirk as teeth gently scrape the sensitive bud, gasping when he pulls off. 
“Please what, Love?”
“More,” you pant. “Please. Anything. Everything. Please just touch me.”
“Mmm,” he’s back at your neck, inhaling your scent, one hand still on your thigh while the other holds him up by your ear. “Pretty Girl has manners after all, huh?” 
“Oh fuck you.” you bristle, but it seems to be the reaction he’s looking for. A deeper, sluttier part of you awakening at the words you want to prove both wrong and right.
“There she is.”
Diving back into your neck, Yoongi trails wet, open mouthed kisses down, down, down. And even though you’ve never been so wet, so in the moment, and so unbelievably turned on before, the human part of you wins for a second, as you try to close your legs. 
They’re pulled back open in an instant, his eyes never wavering from yours as he says, “Don’t you dare get shy on me now,” a kiss to your inner thigh. And then the other as he kneels before you. 
Yoongi places each foot on either of his shoulders and you’re surprised he’s kept on your garter, stockings and red bottoms, their heels digging into his flesh. You wonder if that hurts at all, but by the way his eyes flutter and almost roll into the back of his head at the pressure they place on his frame, you think he actually likes their sting.
“You’re the most exquisite creature I have ever seen. Absolutely no part of you could ever be undesirable to me.” 
His earnest tone makes you believe him, convinces you, and you’re once again pliant in his hold, opening up for him.
“Look at me,” he says, and you do. You stare directly at the Devil between your thighs. The King knelt before your lowly mortal form. “You are the most powerful person in this room, understand?”
You nod, but that’s not good enough for him. 
“I need to hear it.”
“I understand.”
“Understand what?” He pushes.
“I’m the most powerful person in this room,” and it feels bold to say in front of him. But watching the way Yoongi’s expression fills with pride makes it also feel good. He wants you to feel like you’re the one in charge. 
“Remember that,” he says, before ripping your underwear off and throwing them on the floor, feasting his now wholly black eyes on the sight of your dripping pussy.
The more he loses himself in you, the more of his true form reveals itself.
“Fuuuckk,” he whispers more to himself than anything. “So wet…”
Your core is tormented and throbbing at the back and forth between the cold night air and Yoongi’s hot breath and you whine, “I just bought those!”
He spares you one completely unsympathetic look. 
“Don’t care. I’ll buy you more,” a deliciously ringed finger slides along your drenched folds and you’re gasping. “I’ll buy you the entire fucking store if it means I get to see you like this.”
Your voice is airy as you give in, any and all outrage gone. “Oka—ohhh!”
His mouth is on your cunt before you can breathe in the oxygen you so desperately need. He’s not holding back and your movements are not your own as you squirm. An arm rounds your pelvis holds you down, keeping you there as he devours you whole and shows you no mercy.
“Fuck, fuck, oh my god Yoongi,” you cry out, having never felt anything like this before. His tongue circles your clit as he sucks, then glides down, penetrating your opening with thrusts that make you lightheaded. 
Your hands fly to his locks, pulling and pushing him down further until you're pretty sure you’re drowning him in you. Your fingertips graze his horns and it’s just a reminder that this man is definitely not human. Definitely not someone you should be letting suck your soul out through your pussy. And that makes this whole situation that much hotter. 
If he minds where you touch, he doesn’t say anything about it, only groaning as he repeats his motions to get you near your peak, again and again and again until you're quaking against your will and your body is vibrating with every throb from your core.
Every single nerve ending you have is awake and being put to good use, he’s making sure of it. The dam that holds your release is starting to crumble and you don’t know how much longer you can last like this before you’re screaming bloody murder under his grip. 
“Yoon…Yoongi—fuck,” you stutter, staggered breaths from your trembling chest loose as you try to verbalize, “C-close. S-so close.”
He hums, and teases a finger around your entrance, circling a few times before pressing in and up to your g-spot. The simple action undoes you and you're coming with a force you can’t even begin to describe. The waves crash down, over and over and you're moaning and cursing his name at the same time, knowing it’s going to be the only one you’ll think of in this situation from now until forever.
He guides you through the last shockwaves as you come down, and when you’re too sensitive for him to continue, you drag him up to your lips, tasting his efforts on your tongue. 
“Need you now,” you rush out between kisses.
“Not yet, Love,” he says, pulling back just enough to reach a hand between the two of you.
He slips two fingers inside and swallows the resulting moan from your lips as he goes so deep enough you can feel his rings proding your opening.
“Gotta stretch you out for me first.” 
Your hands are back in his hair, nails scratching the nape of his neck as he begins to scissor you open expertly. He growls into your neck at the sensation and that confirms your suspicions of him liking a little pain with his pleasure. So you scratch further down his neck, onto his shoulders and back and you dig a heel into his thigh.
“Fuck, Angel,” fingers stuttering for a second. “Don’t do that unless you want me to come right now.”
“And if I do?” 
“Not yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because the first time I come, it’ll be with you around my cock, soaking the sheets with your own.”
Head rolling back, his words going straight to your clit. “Fuck, okay.”
“Now give me another one, Pretty Girl,” he says, picking up speed with his digits. “I know you can, pretty little slut takes my fingers so well.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
You can feel it coming this time, building and building. He uses his thumb to rub over your sensitive nub and it has you unraveling under him, screaming out and almost sobbing at the convulsions your body makes. He takes your mouth with his again, consuming your pleasure in every form he can get. 
And once you come down, you’ve had it. If you don’t have him inside you within the next 2 minutes you’re going to lose it. 
Ripping at his shirt, you're fumbling with the buttons. “Fuck, take this off, and those,” you say, abandoning his shirt for his belt. 
Yoongi chuckles, low and sinful, “Bossy,” but gets up, and begins removing the outfit that got you into this situation in the first place. You take off the remnants of your costume as he spares you no peace of mind, the way you did him, taking off his pants and boxers in one go, freeing his mouth watering bulge from its earthy confines. 
“Oh fuck me,” you say at his size. He’s big, girthy and you’ve never wanted someone inside you so badly before. 
Yoongi smirks as he crawls over you, but you stop him with a hand. “Wait,” you throw a leg over his hip, and flip the two of you so you’re on top. “Let me do this.”
“Whatever you want, Angel.”
Picking up his cock, it sits heavy in your hand as you give him a couple strokes. He hisses at the contact and it only spurs you on, gathering as much saliva as you can, you open your mouth to spit, rubbing it all over his shaft and head, mixing it with the precum dribbling out of the tip. 
“Fuck—”
Your 2 minutes are up. Lifting your ass, you guide yourself onto him. 
“Oh my fuck, oh fuck,” you say as you slide down slowly, the stretch still very much there as he bottoms out. “Big—ohh, shit—so big.”
Yoongi’s not faring much better, eyebrows pressed together, but eyes devouring the spot where your bodies meet. His breathing is so laboured you’d think he just ran a marathon.
“So tight, Love...Fuck, look at you.”
The delicious sting subsides and you start to move, slow but purposeful thrusts that have him kissing your cervix every time. Fuck he’s so deep, deeper than anyone else has ever been. And once you get a rhythm going there’s no stopping you. You become a force of nature as you bounce on his cock without abandon, taking this for yourself. You don’t know why, but you feel like you have a point to prove and by god you’re going to make it. 
Because if the Devil chose you, you’re going to make damn sure he doesn’t regret it. 
“Fuck, fuck you’re doing so good,” he rasps, throwing his head back into the pillows, eyes shut in pure bliss, murmuring. “Feels so good.” 
His praise pushes you farther, riding harder, grinding your clit against his pelvis, owning both your pleasures. 
You’re the most powerful person here. 
You are the one in control despite being on top of arguably the most powerful man on the planet. It makes you feel safe and strong and invincible. 
And you want to continue, you really do, but your legs are starting to give, so you let him know. 
“Ass up for me then,” he says, and you listen, climbing off of him and wincing at the feeling of him slipping out. He gets behind you, lining himself up again and this time it’s much easier as he sinks in, both of you groaning at the contact. 
Yoongi hands go to your hips, gripping and squeezing and molding the globes of your ass as you anchor your cheek to the bedsheets. 
“That’s it, Pretty Girl, all the way down for me.”
His first thrust has you seeing stars. You're nothing and everything as he continues, but you need more. You need to not be able to speak. To walk. You need to have every thought fucked out of your head. You need him so deep you’ll feel it for a week afterwards.
“Faster,” you beg. “Harder, please.”
“There are those manners I was looking for,” he says and picks up his pace. 
You’re incoherent, saying things you’ve never dared to utter out loud before, making admissions you swore to take to your grave and Yoongi is eating up every single last one of them. 
Because this is about you. This is about proving years of your denial’s fruitless. This is about him and how you make him lose every ounce of self control he has when he’s around you and how badly he’s wanted you since the day you met. This is about ruining every other man for you, making sure you know what true pleasure feels like, know how you deserve to be treated, and hearing his name on your lips when you come. When your cunt clenches so hard he has to fight tooth and nail to milk every ounce of bliss from it.
This is about him wanting to hear him make you feel good. Needing to hear him make you feel good.
This is about you. 
And he can feel you starting to clamp up again, can feel you getting close. So he wraps an arm around your waist, fingers going straight for your pussy.
You shriek, body consumed by the even strokes he delivers as well as the smooth circles around your most sensitive spot, and he revels in it. This is what he’s been dreaming of, what he’s desired over everything else. 
You, underneath him in so much pleasure you’re almost non-verbal. 
Perfect in every single way. 
“Taking me so well, dirty girl. Love the feeling of my cock splitting you open?” he hears a muffled cry and you nod your head. “Knew you would, knew you could take me.”
He delivers a smack to your ass and he feels you clench, so he soothes the battered area before handing out another, soothing that one out too. 
“You’re so good for me, pretty little whore so greedy, sucking me in. Why’d you make me think you didn’t want me all these years, hmm? Was I not good enough for you?”
You bury your face in your sheets. Well that certainly won’t do. So he slows his fingers as he reiterates. “Was I not good enough for you then, Angel? Am I good enough for you now?”
“Yes,” you mutter, barely loud enough to hear.
“What was that?” he slows again to a near burningly slow pace, soaking in the feel of you around his fingers and dick. It feels like a place he once called home.
“Yes!” you bellow. “So good…so good to me…more than enough.”
The praise fuels him, and he picks up the speed of everything, cock pounding you into the mattress, fingers rubbing an achingly mind-blowing pattern on your clit. It pushes you over the edge for the third time tonight, your fluttering cunt around his dick almost has him losing it. Almost has him coming undone with you, but he manages to hold it back. 
Not yet. 
You're silent in your screams this time, overwhelmed with the feelings, fingers nearly ripping your sheets in half at how hard it hit you. How hard you contract around him.
Oh he’s never going to get sick of this feeling. 
Ever.  
And instead of guiding you down this time, he removes himself quickly, flips you over on your back and inserts himself once more. 
He needs that feeling again. Needs you again. You claimed him for yourself whether you knew it or not all those years ago, he was simply following orders. He was yours the second your eyes met for the first time and he’s never looked back since. No one was ever good enough from that moment on, not a single creature on any plane of existence. 
There was only you. 
Yoongi’s never felt anything so pure and so sinful and so right as you pulsing around him does. He exists only for this feeling. Only for you. It took a couple thousand years, but at least now he knows. 
And so he doesn’t slow down, pushing you through your oversensitivity.
It’s time for him to finally claim you back.
“I can’t,” you beg, “it hurts.”
“Not for long, Pretty Girl” he says in his lowest registar. “You can take it, I know you can. Give me one more, I know you have it in you.”
Yoongi’s noticed his words have almost the same effect on you as his motions, so he uses them to their full potential. And as he can sense your fourth orgasm about to land, you surprise him by whispering directly into his ear and raking your nails down his back as hard as you can.
“Only for you, Yoongi.”
His thrusts stutter.
“Fuck!”
He’s coming. 
He’s coming hard. With you, with your name on his lips. It's violent and visceral and vicious and vibrant. It’s beautiful. You’re combined divine deliverance. 
It’s the first time he’s said your name.
And it’s something he’s going to keep locked away in his memory for millenia to come as he covers your inner walls in the most sickeningly sweet shade of white. 
You’re relentless, milking him over and over and over for all he’s worth, not letting up until your body is ready too, ruthless in your quest for ultimate euphoria and he takes it.
Whatever you want. Whatever you need. 
It’s yours. 
He’ll make it so.
At whatever cost to him, you'll get it. There isn't a doubt in his mind as you finally come down, body lighter, eyes glazed over, devastating smile on your lips.
He’s the first to move, going to the bathroom and grabbing a warm, wet cloth to clean you up. You’re blissfully spent, unable to get up even if you wanted to, limbs like jelly, still in a brain fogged haze. 
You got exactly what you wanted.
He cleans his release from your form, naked save for the pink stone he gave you around your neck. Then tosses the cloth in your hamper and lies back down, covering you both with sheets. You cuddle up to him, tossing a leg around his torso, and lying your head on his chest. Contented. 
And he’s silent until he can’t stand it any longer. He has to know.
“What changed?” 
“Hmm?”
“What about tonight made you change your mind?”
You take a deep breath through your nose. “I…stopped fighting it. The feeling like we would never work, the feeling that I would never be good enough, that we were too different,” he listens intently as your fingers trace patterns on his chest, explaining. “And I was sick of denying myself. It’s my birthday. Shouldn't I get whatever I want on my birthday?” 
That seductive smirk makes an appearance.
“Yes.”
“Plus you looked to damn fine in that outfit. A girl only has so much willpower, you know? It’s easier at work when there’s a bar and my job between us, but there was none of that tonight. Just the shots in my system and my unwavering desire to ride your face.”
Yoongi laughs, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen something as beautiful as his smile before. 
“Next time,” he says. A promise.
You fall back into a comfortable silence that has you thinking. 
“What about you?” you ask.
“What about me?”
“Why am I the only one you like? The only one you put up with.”
He ponders for a moment, thinking about how to phrase what he wants to say. 
“I think about the time we met often. There was something about you that was different that day, and I’ve never been able to pinpoint exactly what, but when I saw you I knew I would never think of you the same way I do everyone else. There was something special about your gaze in mine, your company, your soul.” 
“My soul?”
“Mhm.”
“You’ve never asked for mine before.”
“Never needed it.”
At that, you joke, “Is there something you’d sell your soul for?”
“You.” 
Before you can say all the nothing in your head at his answer, he takes a deep breath that has you rising and falling with it. Something about what he’s going to say next is going to have heavy importance to him. 
You just know it. 
“You… made me—make me…want to be better. Do better.”
You’re speechless. Not the kind you were moments before. No, you’re truly and genuinely speechless. 
You never expected anything like that. 
You knew your presence in his life carried a different weight than others, a different air. It’s why you could speak so casually, insult him, and exist near him without fearing for your life. It was something no one had seen from him in thousands of years. 
Kindness. Patience.
The man who’s job it is to run the universes torture capital, punishing those who deserve it without an ounce of mercy for eternity and killing those who looked at him the wrong way. The physical entity of the word evil, wanted to be better. 
Because of you.  
“I don't know what to say.”
“You don't need to say anything,” he kisses the top of your head, tender. “Having you with me is more than enough.”
You can do that. 
“Okay,” you say, craning your neck to kiss him. It’s long, languid, and full of emotions you don't want to acknowledge right now, there’s too many of them to sort through in your post four orgasms brain to be able to process properly. 
Tomorrow you can start. Right now you just want to bask in the afterglow of the most amazing birthday you've ever had.
“So this wasn’t a one time thing?” Yoongi clarifies.
“It definitely wasn't a one time thing,” not a chance in Hell. 
He was yours now. 
The Devil was yours.
King of the Underworld, god among men, catastrophe breathing evil was yours. And it brings the biggest smile to your face.  
“Oh thank fuck.”
“Not thank God?” you tease.
Yoongi groans. “Do not bring my father into this.”
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A/N 3: As always, thanks for reading, loves. Xoxo, - Yoon <3
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quintinh43 · 8 months ago
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All My Heart | Quinn Hughes
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Summary: Quinn has been off the ice for two weeks, and he isn't dealing with it well.
Pairings: Quinn Hughes x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Anxiety/panic (attack?), general questioning of existence. Feelings, Angst, the whole roster basically.
Notes: yall please be careful reading this one! I did not mean for it to go the way it did but here we are. Please please please keep the warnings in mind, and if ever you need to stop reading please do. Take care of yourselves first loves. More notes at the end!
Wc: 1.6 k
---
Quinn felt like he was going insane. He'd been off the ice for two weeks due to an upper body injury, and it felt as if the restlessness had buried itself beneath his bones. He currently lay in bed, staring at the ceiling with tired eyes and a mind that wouldn't relax.
His foot shook incessantly beneath the blanket as he tried to fall asleep, but the thoughts kept whirling. He had been having trouble sleeping since he'd been benched. The constant string of anxious thoughts preventing his mind from quieting down enough for him to slip into a blissful sleep.
"Quinn." You grumble, voice laced with sleepiness. His constant foot shaking had been pulling you in and out of sleep since the two of you had settled down for the night. But you had kept quiet in the hopes that he would be able to fall asleep eventually.
"I'm sorry," Quinn whispers sheepishly, his fingers start drawing soothing circles into your waist, from where his arm is wrapped around you. "I didn't mean to wake you," he murmers, pressing his lips against your hair in a gentle kiss.
"It's alright, love. But can you please please stop shaking your foot?" You mutter, still half asleep.
"Yeah, sorry baby," he murmers sheepishly. He stills his foot, and somehow, the thoughts become ten times more intense. He's going on a full week with a total of maybe four hours of sleep. It's fucking hell. He's been getting snappy during the day. Although you mostly leave it be, because he usually apologizes right after, and you know he doesn't mean when he says it, and it's just his anxiety about not being able to play.
Deciding that there is no use in trying to sleep, he waits until your breathing evens out into a quiet snore before untangling himself from you and slipping out of the bedroom quietly. Quinn finds himself in the kitchen, with no plan on what to do. It's nearly three in the morning.
He settles onto the floor in favour of stretching. Hoping that it will help calm him at least enough so that he's no longer obscenely jittery. Unfortunately, it does nothing useful for him. His next idea is to watch a movie. Maybe something stupid and mind-numbing will put him to sleep.
He makes himself a cup of chamomile tea and sinks into the couch, turning on the first Despicable Me movie. It's perfectly stupid enough to get him no longer thinking about hockey. Except, then there's a freeze-ray. And then Vector's in-house shark aquarium is reminding him of the Canucks.
He pauses the movie and puts down his empty mug on the coffee table with such a deep sigh. It feels as though his bones are rattling. He presses his palms to his eyes in desperation, wishing oh so terribly that he could be skating and playing hockey. He feels chained, having not been allowed on the ice for so long.
His second home, his freedom. Where it feels like he's flying. Where he feels invincible, like he can do anything. Quinn springs up from the couch, and he's pacing. He paces around the living room with such fervor that he might wear a hole into the floor.
He needs to get on the ice. Now. Or he's going to rip his hair out. And then, on top of being injured, he'll also be bald. Which would be the second worst thing to ever happen to him. The first being the fact that he hasn't been allowed on the ice for two full weeks.
With no coherent plan, he creeps around the apartment, throwing his skating equipment in a spare duffle bag. He's grabbing his car keys and slipping on his shoes when the bedroom door opens with a creek.
"Quinn?" Your voice is tired and confused. You're hugging your arms around your body to protect yourself from the chill of the apartment.
Quinn looks like a deer caught in headlights. His hair is sticking up in every which direction, his eyes are red from exhaustion, and his eyebags are so so dark. He's wearing two different shoes, and for fucks sake he's not even wearing a shirt.
You amble over to him cautiously, gently tugging the duffle bag from his hand. You can see the blades of his skates sticking out of the bag. "Baby, what are you doing?" Your eyes dart over to the time on the microwave. It's 3:47 am.
"Y/n" he breathes, it's desperate and pleading, and all you want to do is wrap him in your arms and take away all his pain and worries. "I need to go- I need to get out. I'm going insane." He whispers. There's a tremor in his hands as he runs them through his hair.
"Ok, my love, we're gonna go. Let's go put on some proper clothes first." You say lacing your fingers with his and tugging him towards the bedroom. He sighs, squeezing your hand tightly. Like he needs the physical reminder that you're with him. Otherwise, you'll disappear.
You successfully coax him into a hoodie and a touqe and pull a pair of sweatpants and one of Quinn's hoodies over your (his) t-shirt. Making sure Quinn is wearing the correct set of shoes, you grab the keys off the hook, sling his duffle bag over your shoulder, and grab his hand. As soon as your hands are linked again, his grip is tight. And you wouldn't have it any other way.
You throw his bag in the back seat and slide into the driver's side while Quinn slips into the passenger seat. As soon as he can, he grabs your hand again. You hold your intertwined hands tucked under your chin while you drive.
"Talk to me, Quinn," you murmur softly, stroking your thumb over the back of his knuckles.
Quinn sighs shakily. He wants to talk to you. He really does. But he's so used to burying everything down, to not be a burden. He's the oldest. He's supposed to be the leader, the strong one. He knows in his heart that if there's anyone he can talk to, it's you. You don't push. You know he'll talk when he's ready.
His leg is bouncing, and he's running his hand through his hair nervously as he formulates his thoughts into coherent sentences. "I feel like i'm going insane," he mutters. "i need - i need to get on the ice. It's my freedom. I feel chained to existence because I haven't been able to skate for so long."
Your heart breaks for him as you squeeze his hand, letting him know that you're listening.
"I'm sorry, that doesn't make any sense," he sighs.
"No baby, it does, I get what you're saying," you say softly.
"It's like, I'm being punished for something. Am I a bad person?" His voice is cracking, and if you thought it impossible for your heart to break further, you were just proven wrong.
"No, Quinn, you aren't a bad person. Injuries are inevitable. You didn't do anything to deserve this. I promise you, my love." You kiss the back of his hand, hoping that your lips can pour all your love and reassurance into him.
"Where are we going?" Quinn asks, squinting curiously at the rapidly passing treeline. You had exited onto the highway a little bit ago, with no plan or intention.
You shrug your shoulders, "No idea, I'm just driving."
Guilt washes over Quinn like a tidal wave. He tugs his hand from yours and covers his face, with embarrassment and exasperation at himself. He sighs into his hands, and all of a sudden, the emotions are too much again.
"Quinn?" You glance at him with concern. He's breathing deeply, trying to keep the anxiety from spiking again.
"I'm so sorry, I woke you up and dragged out at such an ungodly hour. And fuck- you have work in the morning. Baby, I'm sorry, I'm sorry -" he sounds like he's on the verge of hyperventilating.
"Quinn, baby, look at me." Your voice is so gentle as you wrap your hand around his wrist and tug it away from his face, "You are the most important thing to me. Forever and always, especially especially right now. Please, please, please, don't beat yourself up about it. I would drop everything for you in a heartbeat, my love."
His breathing is still shallow. You rest his hand on your chest and take deep, slow breaths. "Copy my breathing, Quinn."
It takes a minute for his breathing to match yours, "Good job Honey" you smile, keeping his hand pressed against your chest.
"Can we go home?" He whispers, intertwining his fingers with yours.
"Of course, baby, whatever you want." You take the next exit and head in the direction of your shared apartment. The drive is mostly silent, only the sounds of deep breathing and the occasional shuddering sigh fill the car.
As soon as you're back in the apartment, Quinn is pulling off his hoodie and toque, "I need you to lay on top of me," Quinn all but begs.
"Alright, lay down wherever you want." You say, stripping if your own hoodie and sweats. He lays on the floor. The bed is too soft. He can't handle the sinking feeling. You lay directly on top of him, and he let's out a relieved sigh, his arms tightening around your waist.
"Love you so much, Y/n," he murmers into your cheek.
"I love you too, Quinn, with all my heart," you say gently, stroking his hair soothingly. He falls asleep within half an hour, and you pass out right after him.
And when the two of you wake up, if you take him skating. Well, that's no one's business but your own.
---
I know I said I probably wasn't gonna post for like a week and a half cause of school, but the inspiration hit, and I wrote this in like... an hour. So if it's really bad, well...
And just cause I haven't said it before, everything I write is purely fictional! I don't know how the hughes act in real life! I am simply writing them as characters.
I might end up taking this one down, so...
Anyways. Please take care of yourselves, yall. Leave comments! And as always, Love Soph.
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amarauder · 6 months ago
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peter johnson and the flying wine bottles ♆ percy jackson x reader
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PAIRING; Percy Jackson x Neighbor! Reader
REQUEST; N/A
GODLY PARENT: Demeter
DATE; May 1st, 2024
WORD COUNT; 2440
WARNING; Illegal activities, aka buying alcohol illegally
A/N: IM BACK MOTHERFUCKERS. tehehe I know its been years oops. Not my best work but its here and thats all that matters to me at this point.
TRAILER; In which Percy Jackson meets his neighbor by accidentally almost killing himself and her multiple times.
REQUESTED BY: N/A
--
Percy locks up his flat, double then triple checks everything is secure. He knows it’s a little over the top to be this careful with his security system, especially since his apartment complex is in the heart of New Rome. But after everything he has been through it gives him a little peace of mind knowing he is coming back to a hopefully monster-free apartment.
Things have been weird for Percy since Annabeth left. He hasn’t exactly hit the devastated stage that everyone, including him thought would be his reaction. Instead, it’s been like he has been going through the motions. Nothing has been that bad or great, just kind of there.
Piper has concluded that he is in shock. He suspects that she’s right. It’s almost like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop. Like Annabeth’s on a quest and he hasn’t heard from her for a few weeks and he’s a bit concerned for her well-being. But it’s been a little over two months now and Percy hasn’t felt any different.
 The only difference that Percy has felt is annoyance towards Piper. She won’t stop badgering him about meeting this girl. It’s constant, nonstop talking about how they would be perfect for each other and how Percy just needs to get back out there.
The only thing Percy needs is a break. A break from all the sympathetic stares, the hopeful girls, and gods forbid Piper. He knows that she has his best interest at heart. He appreciates it, he really does. It makes him feel all warm and fuzzy inside whenever his friends want to do something nice for him, but this just isn’t what Percy needs or wants right now.
What Percy needs is some time with his friends and maybe some free food which is exactly why he is heading over to Leo’s for a BBQ with the gang.
Stuffing his keys into his pocket, he heads over to the elevator then promptly almost dies tripping over air. It’s then that Percy realizes that he actually hadn’t fallen over air, he tripped over what looked like either a really long root or a vine? What the Hades? How did that get there?
He goes to pick it up when he realizes there’s a girl standing there waiting for the elevator. She’s holding a wine bottle, and what looks like the biggest plant Percy has ever seen. It would explain where the weird vine-root thing came from.
“Hey,” he starts, only to be interrupted by a scream and a face full of soil.
“Oh my God!” Screeches the plant. It takes Percy a second to realize that it is in fact the girl screaming and not the plant. To be fair, Percy has seen too many outer-worldly oddities in his life, he wouldn’t be surprised if it was the plant talking. “I am so sorry!”
Percy laughs and rubs dirt off his face, “Don’t be. I shouldn’t have scared you.” When he finally gets all the dirt off, Percy realizes she put the plant down. She’s pretty. Like really pretty actually. It takes Percy’s brain a second to catch up to all this new information.
She waves his apology away, “I scare way too easily. You should see me during October.”
“Halloween can get pretty spooky around here.” She tilts her head to the side in a way that remind him of a cute puppy. “Cause all the ghosts, ya know?”
Her eyes widen, “There are ghosts here?”
“Yeah, you haven’t seen them?” She shakes her head, “There’s one named Vector. He’s my favorite.”
“Why am I even surprised? My Mom is a Greek god. Of course there would be ghosts! What’s next? Flying monkeys?”
Percy’s lips quirked, “Don’t give them that idea.”
She laughed and Percy’s chest tightened. “What’s your name?”
“Percy. Yours?”
“Y/N.”
“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before. Did you move in recently?” Percy knows he would have noticed or remembered her.
She puts her finger next to her lips. Percy is momentarily entranced. “I think around a month ago. I just started at New Rome University.” As she was chattering on about college Percy noticed the wine bottle slowly starting to slip out of her grip. Thanks to his demigod reflexes, Percy caught the bottle just in time.
“Oh!” She said in surprise. “Thanks! I didn’t even know it was falling.”
“No worries. I got it.” The elevator dings and they both head in. College? They were about a quarter into the fall semester. “What are you studying?”
“Agriculture.”
Percy’s eyebrows rise. That was not what he was expecting.  “Cool, my best friend from home is really into plants and stuff.”
Y/N’s lips quirked, “Plants and stuff?”
Percy smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck. Thankfully, he was saved from answering by the elevator. Even though he was glad he didn’t have to answer to his stupidity, Percy still felt a pang in his chest. He really didn’t want to part from her but didn’t know how to tell her that without sounding creepy. She gives him good vibes. Percy’s always loved people like that.
“Where are you headed off too?” He eventually asks after sneaking what he hopes is casual glances at her as they exit the building.
She bounces on her toes a bit, “This girl I just met invited me to their friend’s place. I’m a bit nervous to be honest. I don’t know anyone besides her.”
“I’m sure you’ll be fine. I’ve loved talking to you and we’ve only just met.” Percy’s face went beet red. That was not how it was supposed to come out. “I-I mean you’ve been fun to talk to.”
They both laugh for a second, falling quiet quickly enough to make Percy feel awkward. He wishes he had more to say, if only to keep Y/N around him a little longer.
Y/N beams, “Thanks, Percy. I’m glad that I finally met someone in this apartment complex. Everyone here seems like busy bodies and never wants to talk.”
Percy shrugs. He’s noticed that too but never felt too bothered by it. Though, he isn’t the one who moved away from friends. “You get used to it. Here’s your wine bottle.” He hands her the wine bottle and Percy swears he gets déjà vu from a few minutes ago. Just as the wine bottle leaves his fingertips its soaring to the floor and crashes all over both of them. Fortunately, Percy isn’t hurt but he’s more concerned about Y/N to care.
“Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” Y/N puffs out she looks more shocked than anything. Percy feels like a giant idiot. First, he scares her, and Y/N’s plant almost goes flying everywhere. Then, he distracts her enough to almost drop the bottle. Now, after all of that mess he literally just fucks it all up. What are the odds?
It seems Y/N read his mind because she starts to giggle, “I think the Gods just don’t want me to bring wine today.”
As soon as they clean up the mess they head out. Percy had almost cut himself on the glass once or twice but he couldn’t complain much. He had been through worse things than a cut. Both of them had mumbled to each other the entire time about Why the Gods had decided the third time was the charm but decided against mentioning anything else as Y/N still had her plant to carry the rest of the way.
Percy only wishes that Mr. D was here to witness this. He could practically hear the “Peter Johnson!” from New Rome.
“Where are you headed too?” Y/N questions as they both come to a complete stop outside the building.
“To buy you a new wine bottle.” Percy says gesturing with his head towards town. He knows he’ll be late to Leo’s thing, but he can’t really bring himself to care. Percy also knows that Leo, out of all people, will be understanding especially if he mentions a girl.
“What?” Y/N says and grabs his arm, effectively stopping him. “No way. I am not allowing you to buy me a new wine bottle. I was the one who dropped it.”
Percy will admit that it was mostly her fault. It had been in her hands when the accident occurred. But Percy was first and foremost Sally Jackson’s son and if Sally taught him anything it was how to be polite to a pretty girl. “I was the one handing it to you.”
Y/N crosses her arms and shakes her head stubbornly. “No way, Percy! I am not allowing you to buy me one. I’ll buy my own and be on my way.”
“Fine but at least let me walk you to the wine store.” Y/N seems to consider this as her eyebrows scrunch a little less but she still doesn’t uncross her arms. She seems to agree nonverbally since she starts to walk with him.
“So, Do you know Mr.D?”
“Who?”
“Mr.D,” Percy confirms, “Dionysus? Camp Half-Blood’s camp director?”
“Oh,” Y/N murmurs, “I’ve heard of him from my friend, but I’ve never been to Camp Half-Blood.”
“Did you go to Camp Jupiter then?”
She shakes her head. Percy is officially confused. Where did she grow up then? How did she stay away from monsters? “I’m lost. Were you at home then?”
“For some reason, I never really got into trouble with monsters. Sure, weird stuff would happen to me throughout the years but my teachers would just put it off as overactive imagination. It wasn’t until my high school graduation that a monster came after me and my Dad finally brought me here. Next thing I know I’m enrolled at New Rome with my own apartment. What about you?” She questions innocently.
Percy huffs out a laugh. Oh, where to start. He settles on a simple, “I grew up at Camp Half-Blood.”
Y/N nods mutely. It gets a little awkward for a second and Percy wishes he paid a little more attention to his Mom’s rom-com movies. He’s never met a girl like this before. The only other girl he had ever been interested in was Annabeth and they had been friends forever before they even started dating. He was treading new waters.
Fortunately, they turned the corner and the wine store was a few steps away. “There it is,” Percy said and pointed. He was starting to feel nervous and he didn’t know why. Y/N went to open the door, but Percy beat her to it.
She turns around with a teasing smile on her face, “Thanks, Percy. So, want to tell me if your legal or not?”
It takes Percy a second to realize what she is talking about. Oh, buying alcohol. “Yeah, I’m 21. How old are you?”
“19.”
Oh. Oh. Percy shrugs, he’s certainly not one to shy away from illegal adventures. (A/N: DO NOT DRINK ILLEGALLY KIDDOS. NOT COOL AT ALL.) That would just be hypocritical.
Y/N heads over to the wine section and Percy follows after her like a lame, lost puppy. He needs to start acting a little cooler.
“White or red?” Percy asks.
“Champagne.” She answers immediately, with no hesitation. Alright, champagne it is. That’s a little too fancy for Percy’s taste. He’s more of a red Josh man but to each their own. He likes his six-dollar wine, thank you very much. Judgement is not tolerated within this household.
“Perfect” she says and grabs the champagne before making a beeline to the counter. Percy races after her digging for his wallet. He was not about to let her pay. He finally fishes it out of his pocket and waits for the man to check her out.
While Percy is waiting, he can’t help but admire her. She chatters away to the man as he looks over what Percy is assuming her fake ID. Making small talk in a way Percy never could.
The man gives it back to her and rings her up, “19 dollars and 75 cents, ma’am.”
Percy is quick to give his card to the dude. The cash register guy sighs and Y/N looks appalled. “No way. I am paying for it, Percy!”
He gently nudges her out of the away and hands the card over to him. He rolls his eyes, “I don’t care which one of you is going to sugar-mama the other. But whoever pays I have to see some ID.”
Percy digs in his pocket for his identification and hands it over. The man’s eyes widen, he looks at the picture then back to Percy. “You’re Percy Jack-“
“Yup,” Percy interrupts. He isn’t self-centered enough to think that Y/N has heard of him before but just in case, Percy wants to keep that information to himself for now.
The man’s demeanor instantly changes now that he knows who he is cashing out. “Have a good rest of your day!” He yells cheerily after him. When they head out, Percy can hear him whisper-yelling to his coworker about who he just checked out.
Y/N looks a little alarmed at the situation, especially probably the way Percy rushed her out. “What was that about?”
“Nothing” Percy waves her away. “That guy was just” He hesitates, “Weird.”
She makes a face, “Yeah, he really was. I can’t believe we did it though! I have never used my fake before.”
Percy takes a step back, “What? How did you get the wine from earlier then?”
“Oh, my Dad bought that for me.” Percy scoffs, Sally would be disappointed to find out that he was anywhere near alcohol. The thought fills him with a little guilt. She smiles and Percy’s chest hurts a little. This is where they say goodbye he realizes. “Well, it was really nice to meet you, Percy. I’m glad the Gods made our paths cross.”
He grins, “Me too, Y/N. I’ll see you around.”
“Bye, Percy.”
As Percy heads over to Leo’s place, he realizes how fast his heart is pounding and he can’t stop smiling. Somehow, he knows it’s not from their illegal adventure.
380 notes · View notes
ihavethedreamies · 8 months ago
Text
Heat | Wonwoo
Jeon Wonwoo - Seventeen
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~8.7k
Pairing: Wonwoo x AFAB!Reader
Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Acquaintances-to-Lovers, This One Actually Has Plot
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Minor Background Character Gets Shot (Wow! Plot), Pet Names (Pretty, Pretty Girl, Princess, etc.), Daddy Kink (oops), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Wall Sex, Marking/Biting, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom!)
Author's Note: This one has way more actual story than Hoshi's and Woozi's. Wonwoo tends to need time to warm up to people, so I didn't feel like I should do a quick one-night stand deal with him. So, I wrote in some story so he and the reader weren't total strangers.
-> Series Hub <-
-> Hoshi's <-
-> Woozi's <-
-> S.Coup's <-
I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!
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"You have GOT to be kidding me…" You grumbled, huffing a few harsh breaths, and trying again. There was something stuck under the sand, and you really wanted to see if it was worth anything. However, every time you got close to brushing enough sand from the surface to see the logo, a gust of wind would cover it back up again. Adjusting your head covering over your mouth again so you got no sand in your mouth, you also brushed off your goggles of the fine particles sticking to it. You were starting to work up a sweat, the blowing dust and sand mixed with the perspiration and was coating you in a horribly scratchy paste. Whatever was under the sand was big, and that was what you were looking for. However, you really needed to determine the make and model of the crashed ship to determine if it was worth reporting for salvage.
"Finally!" You groaned, getting the metal brushed clean. You quickly snapped a photo with your holo-tracker, the blue paint still relatively solid, enough to identify. The device spun, trying to connect to the extranet and you clicked your tongue as it took for seemingly forever.
"What?!" You swore multiple times when the device flashed, 'no results found'. Maybe you could show it to someone at the Assembly office that would know something. You already had a few pictures and coordinates of a few smaller wrecks you could report, but they probably wouldn't grant very many credits. This thing was huge though, so at least the scrap metal would be worth something. Another blast of wind nearly knocked you over as you stood back up, trying to climb out of the small crater to get back to your rover. The crappy thing about wrecks on Sierra-Vector-Tango, since the entire planet was a desert, is that they were quickly covered by sand; even if they created massive craters when they fell to the surface. However, that meant more money for finding salvage than some other planets. Bad thing? Sand worms. Their saliva got into the particles and could make it acidic, which made digging through the sand more dangerous. This, once again, caused the number of credits to be higher.
"Let’s go back for now." You jerked back with your whole body weight as you pulled the handle for the door of your rover. It finally opened and you huffed, throwing the end of your head scarf aggressively to wrap it around your neck better. Crawling up and into your rover, you rested back in the seat, trying to catch your breath.  Pressing the button to start the vehicle it roared to life and the air conditioning flared to life and you just sat in the cooling air for a few minutes.
"Water!" You gasped dramatically, grabbing your canteen from the passenger seat, and drinking so aggressively the liquid spilled out of your mouth some.
"For fuck's sake…" You groaned hard, the water mixing with the layer of sand on your skin, thickening it.
"I need a real shower, with water." Shifting the gear of the rover, you started to drive back to the main road so you could start heading to the nearest Assembly office. It would be about an hour to Drent, and a little under two for Jaron, but you really didn't like going to Drent. Not only did it have the name of some dude-bro fuck boy, but it was also full of them too. Drent had one of the biggest…adult establishments in that quadrant. Not only did they have sexy blue alien ladies dancing on tables, but it also allowed you to sleep with them. Last time you went you nearly got mugged, and the guy just wanted your underwear. No thank you. Jaron was farther away, but a much nicer place and had a very old-style diner reminiscent of Terra from the 1950s. It was cool to go somewhere that was reminiscent of a time over two-hundred years in the past. Plus, they had a hotel with real water showers instead of the air-blasting kind that was more common. It would be more expensive, but worth it.
"This time I wanna rock with you~" You sang along to the song playing over the speakers, drumming your hands on the steering wheel of your rover as you got back to the main road. Turning right to go north toward Jaron, you set the auto-pilot on and plugged in the town, sitting back to watch the view as your rover drove itself. When you could start to see the sign for the town, you shut the auto-drive off and took control again. Large vehicles like yours weren't allowed in the city proper, so when you reached the entry checkpoint, you pulled off to the side and got out. The sun was setting, nearly below the horizon, stars starting to twinkle in the night sky. Getting out of the rover, you slammed the door as hard as you could to get it to shut and went around to the back. Grabbing your big pack and smaller bag, you also had a make-shift safe that you kept smaller salvage pieces in. You let it fall to the sandy ground with a thud and jumped back out. Keying in the code on the side, the rover beeped as it locked, and you headed to the entry booth.
"How old is your rover?" The kid at the booth was at the most eighteen, and his condescending tone was completely unnecessary.
"Doesn't matter." You tried not to steer, slapping your credit chit on the counter and he slotted it into the console. He really had no room to talk, his setup was just as old if not more so than you rover. Sliding the chit back out, he grabbed a small holo-disc and let the machine stamp it with the time and date.
"Thank you." You emphasized with fake kindness, and he rolled his eyes as he let you into the town. You let the parking disc fall into your bag along with your credit chit and started to head down the road. Your 'safe' was basically a suitcase that you made more secure and added a few locks to, so you could roll it behind you. The wheels thunked over the creases of the pavement and you wondered why the town was so dead. At that time, most people would be milling about after supper and going to bars and such. As you passed a store, you saw a sign blinking on the glass advertising some kind of political rally, must be where everyone was at. At least the hotel was still being manned, though you weren't sure the old man behind the counter was even still alive.
"Hello, dearie." He smiled up at you, wrinkles so prominent his eyes nearly disappeared.
"Hello, sir. Can I get a single room for…" You thought, sucking air through the side of your mouth in thought, "how much is four nights?"
"At 250 credits a night, that would be about a thousand…If you stay one more night, I will keep it that price?"
"Sweet! Thanks!" You smiled back, digging through your bag to look for the chit once again. It was a bit pricier than you normally liked, but it was worth it to get a shower with water.
"A single bed, yes?"
"Yes, sir."
"I think we only have two-bed rooms…this one is two singles, does that work?"
"Sure!"
"Water shower?"
"Please~" You groaned, and he chuckled.
"It is quite slow today for the rally, so I do not think any restaurants are delivering…" The old man worked faster than you thought he would and when he slid the chit back to you, he included the room key. It looked like a glass playing card and had the room 24H-13 on it.
"It will be the second floor, take a right to the fourth hall, then its room thirteen." The old man smiled, and you thanked him, heading for the elevator, the wheels whirling on the tile floor. Once you got to the room and inside, you put everything in the room hastily before dashing into the bathroom. After relieving yourself, you shed the extremely sandy clothes and you noticed what looked like an old-style clothes dryer in the corner. It only had two settings, one of which was covered with a piece of tape and the handwritten words, ‘FOR SAND,' on it.
"Perfect." You shrugged and shoved all of your clothes in the drum, shutting the door, and letting it spin and get rid of the dust and grit.
"Oh~" You hummed in delight when you saw the water heating panel on the wall. You plugged in the best temperature and the water immediately came out perfect. Standing under the spray, you stood for nearly ten minutes just letting the water flow over your tired body. Glancing up at the shower head, you clicked your tongue in annoyance, it was fixed on the wall without a hose…
"Need to find a guy…" you grumbled and then proceeded to actually wash up. The soaps and cleansers all smelled of Terra fruits and you wondered what they might taste like. Getting out of the shower nearly an hour later, you wrapped a towel around yourself and your hair, heading back to the main room of the hotel. Flopping onto the bed, your stomach rumbled loudly, and you sighed dramatically. No delivery…The only place that was probably open was the diner and luckily it was right next door to the Assembly office in the strip mall. It was always open since the employees of the Assembly would eat there most of the time, but they never delivered anyway. When your skin finally no longer felt wet or sticky, you put on your set of spare clothes and grabbed your smaller bag.
"Sandy." you mumbled, going back to the bathroom, taking your now sand-free clothes out. Taking everything out of your bag and setting it on top of the machine, you put your bag in to get the sand off and while you waited, put your boots back on. As it continued, you brushed your hair out and braided it again. Looking at your face, you had a slight tan line from your goggles, but it was nearly unnoticeable thanks to your head scarf covering most of the rest of your face. The machine dinged and you retrieved the satchel, putting everything back and making sure you had your chit and keycard, you left the hotel room to go get supper. Waving to the old man at the desk, you dashed out to the street and jogged down the sidewalk. The rally was still going, you could hear the shouting and cheers in the distance. Must have been a more local election or campaign because you didn't recognize the politician on the flyer. Most of the store fronts were closed, even as you turned the corner to get to the main street. In the distance, you saw the light pouring out of the windows of the Assembly office and the diner, shining like a beacon among the darkened stores surrounding it. Like a good child, you looked both ways before you crossed the road, despite there not being anything or anyone nearby. The doors slid open when you approached the office and the guy behind the counter looked up lazily from where he was counting something at the desk.
"Can I help you?" He sounded very tired. You dug in your bag once again and pulled out your credit chit as well as your ID so he could see you were a legit scavenger, but also a freelancer. Freelancers actually tended to get more money than their own employees because they didn't have to pay benefits and all that other stuff.
"I'll let the Salvage Officer know you're here." The guy handed you your stuff back and you went to sit in the empty waiting area. Tapping your toe on the floor, you could look into the entrance of the diner through the windows and door inside the office. There was only one or two customers inside and just one waitress. There was a guy sitting in the back corner, thin glasses perched on the end of his nose as he read. A paper book? Who had physical books anymore?
"(Y/N)." Your name was called by a familiar voice, and you smiled at the owner.
"Junmyeon!" He motioned with his head, and you followed him into his personal office.
"Didn't know you were working here now." You sat in front of his desk, and he chuckled, relaxing back into his office chair.
"I just transferred. What have you found?" He took the holo-tracker from you when you handed it over and plugged it into his console.
"Most of them are small…" You dimpled the corner of your mouth, looking at the monitor the best you could from your angle. He shifted the screen so you could see better, and you pointed to different marks and gave more details.
"What one is this?" He was looking at the blue logo and you shrugged.
"I have no idea; it was huge though. Looked like a Meteor-class size ship, maybe bigger. It was totally covered and left a huge crater." You emphasized with hand motions, and he panned the picture out to get the measurements before he tapped the logo so the computer could analyze it. As it spun you dug through your bag, looking to see if you had lip balm or something. You didn't notice your business friend simply watching you, more like staring. His eyes flashed to your lips as you painted the balm on your lips with your ring finger. When the console dinged, it brought both of your attention back to the machine.
"Oh, wow." He leaned in to read the information.
"I need to make some calls, can you come back in a few hours?" He looked at you and you nodded, standing.
"I can grab something to eat in the meantime!" You waved goodbye and didn't even notice when he tried to call after you. Heading back to the front of the office, you went to the door leading to the diner and the door slid open with a ding.
"Just you, girlie?" The older waitress called from behind the counter, and you nodded, going to sit at said counter.
"What can I get for you?" she asked, sassily chewing her gum. You looked over the menu and made your choice, pulling out your holo-tracker to play a game as you waited for your food. You glanced over to the back corner over your shoulder, looking at the guy reading.
"Who is that?" you asked the waitress when she came back with your drink.
"He's been hanging around here for a few days. I'm not sure what he's doing, but I know he's waiting for something. The secretary in the office might know." She nodded back to where you had been, and you told her you would be right back. Leaving your bag on your stool to save your spot, you jogged back into the office and the guy at the desk cast you a tired glance.
"Who is that guy?" You pointed toward the back corner, leaning your elbows on the ledge of the front desk.
"He's a bounty hunter of some sort I believe. He is looking for someone for some reason, is waiting there for leads. He's offering money for any information." He shrugged and you nodded in acknowledgement and headed back to the eatery. Your food was ready by the time you got back, and the waitress chuckled at how fast you shoveled it in. When you were done, you handed her your chit and meandered on over to the guy.
"I heard you're looking for someone?" You started casually and he looked up at you over his glasses and your eyes widened. He was freaking gorgeous. His left eye was highlighted red, it seemed he had some kind of hologram-like contact in it or something. His black hair was styled half up, his bangs resting over his brow. He had a few ear piercings, his left nostril had a simple loop ring, and a matching one in the middle of his bottom lip. A chain hung around his neck with a pendant on the end that was some kind of upside-down triangle design. He simply hummed in response and put a slip of paper in his book and shut it, taking his glasses off. You sat on the end of the booth, a big gap between the two of you since he was sitting in the corner of the circular seat. He slid his holo-tracker across the table showing you a blurry image from some kind of security feed. It was a person, that was about all you could tell, and they had a hood up over their head and only the bottom part of their face was visible.
"This it?" You looked back at him, and he was sitting there stiffly, just looking at you. He was really hot, actually. He had on a tan, old-style button up with the top few buttons undone. His pants were a brown leather of some kind, and he had a belt on with an attached thigh-holster that held a pistol blaster.
"They stole some schematics. I need them back more than to find the person." He tapped the screen as he looked at it upside down and it showed a second image. The person had a cylinder with a strap hung over their back.
"It’s a set of old maps, they were stolen from the archives at the museum in the Capital." he explained and you slid your finger over the full image, zooming out to see the area.
"You a bounty hunter?" You slid the holo-tracker back to him and he put it back in his pocket.
"Not really. I'm a Ranger."
"You're a Ranger!?" You perked up and he seemed taken aback by your sudden excitement. Rangers were a small and elite group, they were essentially vigilantes, freelancers. They tended to do more things like rescues or arrests, or other odd jobs. They had a pretty strict rule of not killing.
"So, you want the maps but don't need the thief?"
"Yes. I would be nice to get both, though."
"Hm. I'll ask around and see, I travel quite a bit-"
"Scavenger?"
"Y-yeah." You chuckled nervously under his intense gaze.
"Be careful out there, if you get a lead, message me." He got his tracker back out and you scanned his with yours to save his ID.
"What's your name?" you asked.
"Wonwoo…"
"(Y/N)." You smiled and got up from the booth, going to retrieve your chit.
"I'll let you know!" You grinned and waved goodbye, heading back in. Your timing was perfect because Junmyeon was finished and he told you the first wrecks weren't worth a whole lot, but the last one was.
"Two million credits?!" You balked at the number.
"Yeah. Seems it was some kind of cargo vessel, and they think it might still have all of the packages on it still. You could get even more depending on what's inside." He smiled at your gawk, and you finally shut your mouth.
"Woah."
"I can get you the two million now-"
"Really!?"
"Yes." He chuckled and you dug your chit back out and he slid it into the console so he could transfer the credits.
"Shit…" you whispered, your hand shaking a bit as you took the chit back.
"Are…you staying in a hotel tonight?" Junmyeon asked as you scrolled on your holo-tracker, admiring the giant number registered in your account.
"Yeah! I might upgrade my room~" You giggled, and he took a breath, trying to psych himself up, but no words came out before you stood to leave.
"Thanks, Myeon! I'll make sure to come here when I can, kay?" You waved goodbye and he sighed as you dashed out of his office. As you left to head back to your hotel, you saw that Wonwoo had left his booth and you wondered why. Getting outside, you realized the rally had gotten out, floods of people now walking the streets, a big crowd heading toward the diner.
"Ew." You sneered at the globs of people and dashed back to the hotel. When you got in the lobby, you skipped up to the front counter, ready to ding the bell and call the nice old man out for assistance.
"Oh?" Someone was sitting in the lobby, a book in his hand.
"Ran away from all the people?" You spoke a bit louder so he could hear you and he glanced up over his glasses again. His face wasn't quite so cold as before, but he wasn't smiling either.
"Yes." His tone was also lighter.
"There's about to be a bunch more. The campaign team is staying here and will be back soon." The old man had come out of the office, and you sneered as he laughed.
"Are you staying here too?" you asked Wonwoo who had put his book away and was taking his glasses off.
"I hadn't checked in yet."
"We do not have any more rooms available, sir. We just had an influx of online reservations since the rally got out so late…" The old man sighed, and you hummed.
"I have a second single bed in my room…?" You suggested, not meeting his eye as he came to stand by you. He had a small duffle over his shoulder. His eyes finally met yours, and he seemed a little nervous, but you could only see it in his eyes, past that red glowing contact.
"Is that alright with you?"
"Yes? I wouldn't have offered otherwise…" You huffed and the old man hummed.
"Here, I will get you a key as well." You both waited and when Wonwoo received the clear keycard, you both scurried to elevator, people starting to enter the lobby. Neither of you said anything till you had shut the door to the hotel room.
"Are you sure this is okay?" you asked him, he was even stiffer than before.
"Y-yes." He cleared his throat, and he went further into the room, taking the bed near the window since your stuff was on the other one. He told you he was going to shower, and you nodded as he dashed past you. Sighing, you shook away some very impure thoughts, and went to your safe, rolling it over to the bench under the clothing rack and hauling it up onto it with a grunt. It took two physical keys as well as two padlocks and a dial lock. It clicked each one open and then you were able to open it. The air seal 'shunked' as you opened it, and you carefully rested the lid on the wall so it wouldn't scratch it. Looking over your objects, you had some small crystal-like artifacts that you worried were just fakes from some kind of gift shop. You also had some intact parts for ship consoles and even jewelry. There had been just a random case you found washed up on the shore of an oasis once that had gold and silver necklaces and rings inside. It was never reported missing, so you just kept them. Other bits and pieces were inside as well, and your mind went back to the image Wonwoo had showed you. The hood was what caught your eye. The person was experienced, knowing how to hide their face from all angles, so they were probably an experienced thief. Who would want ancient maps though? Especially from Terra.
"What is all that?" His deep voice startled you; you hadn't even heard the bathroom door open. Glancing up, you swallowed hard at the sight. He had put most of his clothes back on, but his shirt was still unbuttoned, allowing you to see his toned torso. He had flopped a towel onto his head to dry his hair and was putting his glasses back on. Trying to ignore how freaking sexy he was, you cleared your throat and started to point things out. When you got to the crystals, you let him put up the one that was shaped like a pyramid.
"I don’t know if they are worth anything, they might be fakes.”
"Have you shone light through them?" he asked, and you hadn't even thought of it.
"No?" He handed it back and you dug through your bag and found your flashlight, holding it to the crystal.
"Woah!" You gasped as a map of the stars shone on the ceiling as the light passed through the crystal.
"Is it worth anything?" you asked him. It was cool but could still theoretically be from a gift shop.
"The fakes have a button to turn on the light, that's the real deal. Where did you find them?" He was buttoning his shirt up, unfortunately, picking up the three other crystals and coming to sit on his bead across from you. There was a sphere, one that looked like a big diamond and an obelisk. You handed him the flashlight and he shined it through the other ones. The sphere showed a projection of a globe, but it wasn't S.V.T or even Terra.
"Mars." he muttered, and you looked closer, recognizing the small dots over the surface as the towers that held the barrier around the planet. The diamond one lit up a bright aqua blue, but that seemed to be all it did. The obelisk projected the time and date, but it seemed to be from Mars as well.
"I found them in some cave. How the heck did they get all the way out here?"
"Were these the only things in the cave?"
"Yeah…So even though they are legit, are they worth anything?
"Hm. Maybe to a collector. I can take them to the museum when I go back-" he halted, "If you're okay with it, I'll pay you back." If he wasn't a Ranger, you would be more hesitant to allow it, because he could just pocket the money. You didn't think he would though, not with the reputation of his group at stake otherwise.
"Sure." You shrugged and he took them and put them in his own pack, and you went back to your safe and locked it up.
"Thank you for letting me stay here." He called suddenly as you tried to figure out how the holo-screen worked and what channels there were.
"Sure. I'm not a fan of big groups of people and this is the best hotel in town." You smiled at him, going to hand him the remote.
"Oh, no, you can choose. I'll just read." You nodded and didn't press to continue the conversation. While it was quiet between you two, it was companionable and before you knew it, you had drifted off the sleep, listening to some show and the flipping of his book pages. When you awoke, he was gone, but it was like ten in the morning, and there was an unread message on your holo-tracker.
Sorry I left without saying goodbye. Thank you for letting me stay in your room for the night. I am heading back to the capital for now and will get your crystal projectors estimated. Please let me know if you get any leads on the map thief.  -Wonwoo
You sighed, a little disappointed he just left, but he seemed quite shy and closed off. Whatever. For the rest of the day and the next few you lazed about and did some fun things to spoil yourself after your big payout, enjoying your little vacation. Over the week afterwards you were having trouble finding anything significant and had stopped at a small tavern set up near a small oasis. You sat at the bar, laying on it dramatically. The bartender had moved the fan closer to you so it could blow straight on you as you lazily sipped from the straw in your fruity drink. You glanced casually at the entrance when another person entered, and you zeroed in on their face. They had a hood on, but that didn't mean it was for sure the person Wonwoo had been looking for. After he had gotten the money from the crystals, more than you thought but not a huge amount, he had sent you more information. It was a woman, presumably, and she was pretty tall and even always wore heeled boots. Your gaze shifted to their feet but couldn't see for sure and you couldn't even tell it was a woman. You and Wonwoo had actually been messaging some even past leads on the thief. You didn't have many friends and while he had the other rangers, he said it was nice to talk to someone new. As you sat at the bar, you watched her, pretending you weren't. You casually took out your holo-tracker and took a picture of the person as discreetly as you could, then headed out. You continued to wait and watch in your rover, ready to take a  picture of their vehicle when they left. You thought you knew which one it was, but didn't know for sure, so you waited till they came back out. They got in the one you had been eyeing, and so once they headed off, you sent the two pictures and a few more details to Wonwoo. He thanked you for the update, then asked where you were. He then told you to meet him in the next town of Falko, and since you were headed there anyway…
The town was much smaller than Jaron, so there was only one small motel, so it was easy to find where he was and get to his room. He was on the first floor in room three. You knocked and barely waited before he opened it. He was…smiling. You didn't know he could do that. You forgot how gorgeous he was.
"T-thanks." You smiled bashfully and followed him inside. It seemed he had been there awhile based on everything spread out across the room. There were a few consoles set up as well as tablets and other tech.
"What's going on in here?" You motioned around the room.
"While I'm looking for the map thief, I'm also trying to get the Ranger's new communication array set up. I'm making the program myself so it can't be hacked by outside sources." Wonwoo shrugged, moving various tablets from one of the beds so you could sit down. He sat at the small desk and turned to face you. He asked a few questions about the person you saw, and you gave him more details from the pictures. It wasn't a whole lot to go on, but if it was them, then he now had their vehicle information. Before you could talk past leads on the thief, his holo-tracker went off and he read the message. He sighed.
"What's wrong?"
"My partner is coming back. It might be better if you leave." He stood to lead you out and you grimaced.
"I-It's not…I just don't want him to meet you…" He mumbled and you wanted to press the issue. His cheeks were slightly red, and he flashed another genuine smile as you left the motel room.
"I'll let you know if the lead pans out." You nodded and before you could turn and leave, he had held something out for you.
"What's this?" You took the little holo-card.
"Um…it's my address. If you are ever in Ratalla…I won't be back home for a few more days, but I should be working from there after…" Wonwoo rubbed his hands on his pants, then shoved his hands in his pockets when you noticed.
"Thanks." You gave him your own smile, then left giddily.
Nearly another month passed before you saw him in person again, but you messaged back and forth quite a lot. There was once you were near his hometown, but he wasn't there, so you missed the chance of seeing him again.
You had been meeting with a repair man in a city called Guro; your rover hadn’t been driving straight. It seemed he would need it for a few days to even determine the issue, let alone what to do after. At least you were in a place with lots of activities. You had actually gotten another half a million credits from the giant wreck you found and had more funds than you knew what to do with. As you left the shop, looking up on the extranet for the nicest hotel, someone caught your eye. Despite the heat of the desert and the midday sun, there was someone slinking around with a hood on. You watched them, eyes glancing at their feet. Heeled boots. It was also a woman, and her height matched the parameters. There was even a cylinder vessel hung over her shoulder. It was her. The area had most warehouses, and she might have been meeting a buyer, so you decided to follow her. You sent Wonwoo a message with your coordinates to see if he could send someone by as well, or better yet, call some Guards. You trotted behind her, trying to stay out of sight and remain quiet. Hiding quickly around the corner, you watched her go into an unmarked warehouse after looking around for followers. Not well enough. The thief had gone in through a large open garage door, so it made it easy for you to follow. Crouching against the wall right near the edge of the door you peered around the corner and saw she was alone, probably waiting for someone. She glanced at her holo-tracker, then went further in, toward the garage door on the opposite side that opened to a scrap yard. Looking for another hiding place, you dashed forward and hid behind a column. When you peered around though, she was gone.
"Why are you following me?" A voice called from behind you, and you spun to see the thief, holding a pistol blaster aimed at you. Your heart fell and sweat broke out on your brow. Those maps must be really valuable if this person was willing to shoot you to prevent the interruption of the hand-off.
"I-I was just trying to figure out who-" The woman pulled back the hammer on the weapon and your stomach dropped.
"Shit!" You scrambled up and tried to at least get around the column when you saw her finger going to the trigger.
"Fuck!" You slammed your back against the column, seeing a smoking scorch mark on the ground.
"(Y/N)!" a familiar voice shouted, and you were shocked by Wonwoo's presence, distracting you.
"Stupid bitch!" The thief was back behind you, and you spun to see the gun nearly at your head. You yelped when something yanked you back and you fell into a hard body. Leaning into him, you watched in terror as the woman fell back onto the ground, a hole in her head. Then you noticed not only were you breathing hard, but so was he. He spun you around to look over you, his hands on your shoulders, one going to your jaw to adjust your head so he could look you over.
"Are you okay?" He was nearly frantic, his face and tone filled with panic.
"Y-yes." You weren't sure to be more surprised by his sudden appearance or the clear worry he had for you. It made your heart thud but for a much different reason. When he had finished looking over you and determined himself you were okay, Wonwoo pulled you into a hug. You returned the embrace, more trying to comfort him than anything.
"Fuck, I was worried." He sighed right in your ear, his deep voice rumbling through you.
"You were?" He pulled back enough so he could meet your eye and huffed.
"Of course. You didn't reply when I messaged you to stay away…" His hand went back to your jaw, his thumb brushing over the skin of your cheek, which was rapidly getting warm and red. When you met his eyes again your widened, he got close again and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.
"Are you okay?" You chuckled a bit, kind of worried. He had never shown this level of emotion before.
"Yeah." Wonwoo pulled way, petting your hair then went to the body of the woman. You tried to avoid looking at her as he took the map holder from her and soon the Guard showed up. It was another good hour or maybe two before you both were finally allowed to leave after giving statements and answering questions.
"Do you have a place to stay tonight?" he asked you as you left the warehouse district.
"Not yet. I was just about to find a hotel when I saw her…" You drifted off, pointing with your thumb in the general direction of where you just were.
"I got a crap ton of money from a wreck I found so I was going to go somewhere fancy." You smiled wide and he gave you a smaller one. Wonwoo took a step closer, looking a bit nervous, his voice had a slight waver when he spoke.
"Wanna get a room together?"
From everything after he asked that question, till your back hit the door of your hotel room, it was a blur. As soon as the door closed, he had you pressed against it, his lips swallowing yours. His big hand was at the back of your head, making sure it didn't hit the wood of the door. You had gotten one of the deluxe suites of the nice hotel, so the bedroom was separate from the living area, and there was a small kitchen even. When your lungs started to burn for more air, he finally pulled his mouth from yours. As you caught your breath, just looking at each other, Wonwoo leaned into whisper in your ear, "I'm going to fuck you on every surface in this place." He promised. Your head swam at the statement and whined.
"Please~" As soon as he got permission, he grabbed turned you around, your front pressed to the door and his nose nuzzled behind your ear. You let him do as he wished, running his hands under your thin top, starting to suck on the skin in the crook of your neck. You were a bit worried about him having to stoop over so far since he was so much taller, but if he wasn't complaining, neither would you. You could tell he was marking your skin as he licked, sucked, and nibbled over your neck and shoulders. His hands quickly got your shirt off and as his hands danced over the skin of your stomach, you toed your boots off, shoving them to the side. Before he completely removed it, Wonwoo slipped his hands under your breast band, palming the flesh, making you shiver. Undoing the latch, he took the wrap off and it fell to the floor as well. Not turning around to see for sure, you heard more fabric rustling and assumed he was removing his own top. You sighed when his arms wrapped around you, holding your back to his bare chest, the right hand cupping your left breast, and his other hand skating over your stomach. He smiled at the whining moan you let out when his hand finally went into your pants, long fingers stroking the wet patch on your panties.
"So wet, pretty girl." He kissed behind your ear, fingers tweaking your nipple.
"Wonwoo~" You whimpered when his bare fingers finally met your folds and he groaned.
"Let's see how tight you are." Every time he rumbled words in your ear, it made your whole body shiver. Sighing when his finger slid inside, he huffed, his hips twitching as your gummy walls sucked his finger in. You could feel his hardening cock through his pants, pressing into your back side. When Wonwoo added a second finger, crooking them up and pressing hard into your back wall, your legs buckled, and the only reason you didn't fall was his arms around you.
"Need to get your pussy ready for me, pretty." He smiled against your neck when your groan faded into a whine.
"Fuck~" You practically cried as his palm dug into your clit and you were already close.
"No!" You gasped when his fingers left right as you were getting to the edge.
"Wonwoo?" He had pulled away entirely, you only knew he was still behind you because his hands were on the waist band of your pants. He pulled them along with your underwear down and kneeled behind you, helping you get them off without falling over.
"Hold on, pretty girl." While you weren’t sure what he was about to do, your fingers dug futilely into the wood of the door. Your breath escaped you when he, without real warning, shoved his tongue into your cunt, his thumb flicking your clit. Your legs immediately began to shake, a mewl escaping with each rapid breath. You were done for when his lips sealed around your clit, barely flicking with his tongue, and your nails dug into the wood as you released on his tongue. He chuckled, your cunt dripping release onto the floor.
"Gonna have to clean this place good…" You joked, breathless and he laughed harder. Wonwoo hummed, standing back up. There was more shuffling as you rested against the door panting. You sighed when his arms came back to you, pulling you back into his now completely naked body. His cock was wedged in the crook of your ass, and you swore under your breath, why was he so freaking big? He was tall and his shoulders were broad, and apparently had to have a fat cock as well.
"Fuck!" You groaned when the head of his cock went to the entrance of your core. One of his arms wrapped around your ribs, the hand resting under your breast, and the other was at your hip.
"Ready?" His tone had shifted, it was playful and cocky, a slight laugh accompanied the word.
"Please!" You gasped as he started to push in, your legs shook as his dick stretched you open. You hadn't been fucked in a long time, and longer still fucked good. You panted out little whines as he kept filling you, and it seemed like he was going to end up in your throat. Your whole body was trembling when he finally bottomed out, his strong hips pressed against your ass.
"God, your cunt feels so good, princess." His groan rumbled through both of you. You couldn't see, but his head was thrown back, adam's apple bobbing as he tried to get used to how tight you were. When he realized you were on your tip toes trying to compensate for the height difference, he shifted to ease the strain. He backed up so you could lean forward more, and he angled his hips down. Your feet were no longer burning, and his new angle seemed to get him even deeper somehow. Your cunt was burning too, trying to accommodate his size, slick walls fluttering from the stimulation. He had still barely moved, letting you adjust, but you were growing close again.
"Move…" Your request was so quiet. You were trying not to moan like a bitch in heat even though that was exactly how you felt.
"Slow? Fast?"
"Fuck- Wonwoo, just-" He pulled out about halfway and thrust back in, the head of his cock kissing your cervix. You both moaned, his hands left their original positions to grip the flesh of your ass and he chuckled when you nearly sobbed as he started. Only pulling out part of the way, he would fuck back into you hard, grinding his pubic bone into you each time.
"Fucking hell, Wonwoo~" You ended up back on your toes just from the pleasure and you hoped they wouldn't fine you too bad for the scratches your nails were carving into the wood. All your breath got fucked out of you when he finally gave a full thrust, your orgasm slamming into you.
"Shit-" Wonwoo grunted when your already tight cunt squeezed him even more, he had to slow down just to keep himself from cumming as well. He smirked, watching your fingers twitch as you clawed the door, your head flopped forward between your shoulders.
"No, no, no!" You babbled as he pulled out all the way, huffing in amusement at your whining.
"Come here, pretty." Wonwoo easily lifted you, somewhere between like a sack of potatoes and a princess. Your head was still swimming from your orgasm, so the move to the next location was a bit blurry. You shivered and mewled when he set you on the counter that was in the mini kitchen of the suite, the marble very cold on your bare thighs and pussy. He laughed at your yelp when he pulled you, so your butt was right at the end of the counter, and didn't hesitate to bury himself back into you. The thrust was harsher and faster than the first and your hands flew to his shoulders to steady yourself as he restarted the brutal rhythm that he was fucking you against the door with. The man groaned when your nails dug into his skin instead of the wood, so he decided to mark you himself.
"Wonwoo~" Your voice wavered, eyes starting to tear up at the feeling of him fucking your brains out. His mouth went to your own shoulder, at the base of your neck. He started with open mouth kisses, then sucked the skin before lightly sinking his teeth in. He could feel your whimper against your throat, and you felt his responding hum from his lips. Wonwoo tightened his grip as well, wanting to leave bruises shaped like his hands on your skin. He was struggling to hold you upright enough, so you didn't bang your head against the counter, and his knees kept knocking into the cabinet.
"Hold on…" He grunted, and you squeaked when, without withdrawing, picked you up, holding your legs around his waist. Not going far, one hand held your butt and the other went to hitch your leg over his elbow as he pinned you to the wall. Luckily the paint on the wall wasn't textured, your back rubbing over the surface as you bounced on his cock. Wonwoo looked even more gorgeous than normal like that, naked, sweat covering his brow, pupils blown wide. The red, dancing hologram of his eye contact contracted and spun, and you wondered what it did, if anything. With hazy thoughts, you glanced down at his body, whining at the sight of his abs, clenched to work his hips and hold you up.
"Fuck, pretty girl-" He exhaled harshly, his thrusts getting less regular as he grew closer to his orgasm.
"Inside, please, fuck!" You pleaded and he had no desire to argue. His forehead landed on your shoulder, and he moaned higher than you thought he could go as he pumped his cum into you. In the silence, cutting through both of your panting breaths, your combined release dripped onto the tile floor. Your head was so empty you nearly didn't realize you had came again as well. You tried hard not to slump like a rag doll since he was completely holding you up, but you had nearly no strength.
"Let's get to the bed." Wonwoo stood up straight, staying inside, his cock still rock-hard and he carried you to the separate bedroom of the suite. While he meant to set you down on the bed gently, you flopped onto it, letting yourself finally go boneless, your muscles and mind were mush. You weren't sure if you could go any longer, but despite a bit of sweat on him, he was unaffected.
"I've been waiting to fuck you since you came to my motel room in Falko." He admitted, shifting you higher on the bed, following suit, his hard cock covered in both of yours cum resting between the folds of your cunt. You barely registered the confession before your back arched, his cock finding its home inside of you again. It was hard to fully catch your breath, he was battering his cock into your dripping cunt without any mercy. As he rolled his hips just right to hit every single good spot inside of you, his hands gripped your thighs, maneuvering your weakly shaking thighs so they were pressed to your chest, knees at your ears.
"D-daddy, go slower!" You keened and his hips immediately stopped. You were too far gone to feel anything but a bit of respite, head flopping so your cheek rested on the pillow.
"Fucking hell, princess." Somehow his voice had gotten deeper, and he started the brutal pace back up, snapping his hips even harder than before. If you had the strength to scream you would, but your throat was hoarse, so you just mewled and squeaked, drool pooling from the corners of your mouth, tears down your cheeks.
"You love daddy's cock ruining your sweet little cunt, huh?" He huffed when your glassy eyes met his. The red hologram spun and danced, and while you couldn't see, through the lens he had a much different view. Little numbers and labels shown in the air around your body, telling him how and where your brain was firing, your heart rate, body temperature, blood pressure. He could even highlight where blood pooled to the bruises his hands had made.
"Yes~!" You gasped as his thrusts slowed down, but just as hard, he barely pulled out before grinding down into you. Different sensors from his lens flashed on and he could tell you were getting close already. Even without it, he could feel your walls pulsing, more of your wet dripping from where your bodies met.
"You wanna cum, pretty?" You nodded rapidly, whimpering positively.
"Cum for daddy, then." And with one more thrust you fell over the edge. Not just from his words, but also the rough friction of his pelvic bone meeting your clit. Wonwoo chuckled as he felt your pussy spasm, more of your cum squirting from your quivering folds, coating his skin as well. He had a feeling you were spent even though he knew he could keep going. He had stilled inside of you, so he didn't overstimulate you too much, and he wasn't for sure you were still conscious. Your eyes were closed, arms resting on the bed up by your head. He smiled warmly, cooing at your fucked out state, letting your legs go so they could rest onto the bed as well. When he pulled out you shuddered, a long shaky keen floating from your parted lips. He was shocked at the globs of thick, white cum that dripped out of your swollen cunt and he was still unfortunately still very hard. After feeling your core milk him dry, he wasn't sure even a cold shower would calm him down. Though, seeing you laying there, he felt a little bad he had caused you to become so worn out and didn't want to be selfish.
"Oh, princess." Wonwoo leaned back over you, kissing your cheek, the corner of your mouth, then softly pressed his lips to yours. You sighed and it made him grin, you were at least conscious.
"You're still hard." Your voice was quiet, higher than normal, almost whiny.
"It's okay, pretty, you're tired." Wonwoo nuzzled the side of your neck under your ear, lightly sucking on your ear lobe. If he wasn't careful, he would not be able to resist sliding back inside you. With the little strength you had return to you, you pushed him back just enough that you could flop over onto your stomach.
"(Y/N), we don't-" You didn't let him finish, grabbing a pillow to shove under your hips, lifting your butt a bit higher.
"Please, daddy~" You looked at him with shining eyes over your shoulder, and who was he to resist?
"Oh, fuck, princess. If you insist…"
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Master-Master List
Seventeen Master List
Taglist: @gaslysainz
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celiastjamesoscar · 1 year ago
Text
Would That I
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Pairings: Sam Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: You accidentally ran into someone at a frat party, and she quickly became your best friend. But you fell for her sister, who wouldn’t even give you the time of the day (this is a shitty description)
Warnings: swearing, mentions of weed, alcohol consumption, small joke of role playing sex, jokes about getting salmonella and dying, slight angst. Let me know if I missed any!
My Masterlist
AN: Came from this request here!
Word Count: 6.8K
You could smell the alcohol and weed in the air before approaching the house. It was Halloween night, and you were going to a frat party with your friends, even though you had zero intention of staying longer than ten minutes. You were just here to ‘shake babies and kiss hands,’ as your friend Miles would say.
He was the one hosting this frat party, so of course, you had to show your support for your friend, even though you hated parties and drinking. He was one of the biggest recruiters for his frat house and very well known across the campus for his promiscuous activities, but he wasn’t your typical frat guy. Yes, he loved to drink, party, and sleep around, but he was a nerd. He had been his high school’s team captain of Scholar Bowl his junior and senior year, and led them to a state championship win. And he was also extremely socially awkward; it pained you to watch him interact with people.
“What the actual fuck are you wearing?” Anika questioned as you walked up the stairs to the house. She and Mindy were patiently waiting outside for you, and they both laughed at your outfit. “What? This is a vintage Gucci,” you stated as you did a twirl for the girls.
You were dressed up as Alan Garner from the hangout, and Anika hated to admit it, but you pulled off the cheap fake beard and wig. You also had a fake baby strapped to your chest with cheap sunglasses covering your eyes.
“You are really asking me that, Mr. Worldwide?” You jabbed as you eyed Anika up and down. The girl wore a god-awful bald cap, a black suit, and a white shirt with a shitty penciled-on goatee. “Haters gonna hate,” Anika replied as she pulled a pair of sunglasses out from her jacket pocket and put them on.
You scoffed at the girl before looking at Mindy, “I don’t even know what to say to you.”
“I’m going to have a BF if you insult me,” Mindy scolded as she stared you down. She wore a jean skirt with white pantyhose topped off with a jean jacket and a pink shirt that said ‘Dude, where’s my couture’ in red letters.
“Was this your idea?” You asked with an eyebrow raised.
Mindy scoffed at your words, “Of course not! I wanted to go as Vector but Chad wanted to match,” she said as she rolled her eyes, “So now, I’m from White Chicks instead of Despicable Me.”
“I think you would have made a very sexy Vector,” you admitted with a smile.
“Thank you. At least someone,” Mindy sent Anika a glare, “thinks it would have been sexy.”
Anika rolled her eyes at Mindy, “I told you I’m not having sex with you while you are dressed up like Vector!”
“Okayyyy, this just got weird,” you interrupted as you walked past the fighting couple but stopped just before the door, “you two coming?”
The two quickly stood up and followed you into the house. The smell of alcohol and weed was enough to turn your stomach as you opened the door. You saw partygoers dressed in all different kinds of costumes as you pushed through the crowd and made your way into the kitchen. “I shall have a bottle of Smirnoff, and what will my lady have?” Mindy asked as she dug around the cooler full of alcohol. “I shall have the same, my lord,” Anika replied, and you almost gagged at their conversation.
You politely pushed past Mindy and fished around for a bottle of water, and you quietly rejoiced when you pulled up the last bottle. “Seriously? Water?” Mindy questioned as she glared at you. “Yes, seriously. This is a frat party, and I only know three people here!” You exclaimed while holding your water.
Mindy muttered a quiet ‘whatever,’ and you were going to retort when you felt someone throw their arm around you and pull you into a hug. “How’s my favorite homo doing?” Miles questioned while ruffling your hair. “I’m fine, Miles. Thanks for asking,” Mindy butted in with a slight smile.
Miles let out a small laugh as he left your hair alone and gave Mindy a fist-bump, “I’ve missed you too, Mindy, and you as well, Anika.” Anika smiled at the man as she also fist-bumped him. “Well, me and Y/N here are going to go hunt for some Latinas to hit on, you two gay-bo’s have fun,” Miles said while pulling you off into another room.
“Really? We are going to ‘hunt for some Latinas?’” You questioned as you followed Miles into the living room. People were elbow to elbow, and you had to shout over the loud music to converse with the man. “Obviously! I know your three main things you look for in women, and I bet we can find someone here who is all three,” Miles replied as she slung his arm over your shoulder while scanning the room for a potential hookup for you.
You scoffed at your best friend’s words, “I do not have three things I look for in a woman. I only care about her personality and her thoughts on Dr. Pepper.”
A sound of fake gagging caused you to send a death glare at Miles. “I forgot you're a Dr. Pepper whore,” your friend joked as he started listing your three interests on his fingers. “Number one: you love Latinas, same here. Number two: you love emo chicks; same here again. And finally, number three, you love a woman older than you, and guess what? Same here too!”
“I hate that we are basically the same person in different fonts,” you mumbled under your breath as you shoved yourself off Miles, causing you to bump into a stranger accidentally.
“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” you quickly apologized as you faced the woman. She was close to a foot shorter than you, but had a beautiful smile and seemed like she had a charming personality. “No, it’s okay,” the girl replied slurredly. You could tell this girl was hammered out of her mind, and you had seen the eyes of preying men on her.
Not knowing what to do, you asked her, “Hey, I know we just met, but would you want to go outside with me?” The question was an innocent one; you didn’t want to leave an intoxicated girl who was pushing five feet nothing to fend off men like Frankie. “Sure,” the girl replied with a smile as she grabbed your hand and pulled you outside. You sent Miles a scared smile as the man responded with a comical smile and a thumbs up.
You followed the girl out to a small wooden swing and sat down next to her. “So, what’s your name?” You quietly asked. You had no intentions on hitting on this girl even though she was your type; you were just in need of some new friends, and you thought she could be a good addition.
Not that Anika and Miles were bad friends, you just needed someone else to hang out occasionally.
The girl reached her hand over to you while saying, “I’m Tara; it’s nice to meet you.” You gently shook her hand and sent her a grin, “I’m Y/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
The further the night went along, the more you talked with Tara. You two quickly discovered that you both shared a love for art and elevated horror, and you even exchanged numbers with the girl.
“Oh shit,” Tara quietly mumbled as she stood up from the bench. You gave her a puzzled look before standing up as well, “is everything alright?”
“Yeah, it’s just my sister is freaking out about me right now,” Tara replied as she texted someone back, presumably the sister in question. “You aren’t in any trouble, are you? Because I can try and help to get you out,” you offered, causing Tara to chuckle at your words.
“Thank you, Y/N, but I think Sam would kill you if she ever met you,” Tara joked while looking up at you before returning to typing.
A minute passed before Tara sighed and closed her phone. “Well, I better get back home,” Tara said as she moved in to hug you, but your fake baby got in the way.
You gave Tara an awkward smile as you pulled the girl into a side hug and whispered in her ear, “Babies, am I right?”
“Why do you even have that thing?” Tara asked while flicking its head.
You quickly wrapped your arms around the baby’s head and shielded it from Tara. “Hey! Do not hurt my baby Carlos!” You exclaimed.
“Carlos? Are you serious?”
“Yes, I am serious. Do not hate on his name.”
“Why did you pick such an outlandish name?” Tara asked with a smile as she crossed her arms.
You scoffed at the girl’s words, “‘Carlos’ is not an outlandish name, Tara. And besides, it’s from the movie The Hangover.”
Tara chuckled at your words, “Oh my god, my sister loves that movie; she watches it all the time.”
“Is your sister single?” You asked with a playful smirk.
“Ha! Yeah, right. Good luck with that. Sam is pretty reserved,” Tara stated as she slowly started to walk toward the road.
“How come? If you don’t mind me asking,” you asked while following Tara and stopping on the sidewalk beside her.
The girl shrugged while pulling out her phone and texting someone. “Her last relationship ended badly. And ever since then, she’s just been closed off to everyone except me and always stalking me,” Tara admitted while putting her phone away, “but you’ll get a chance to meet her; she’s on her way to pick us up.”
“Us?”
“Yeah, only if you want to come over. I know we just met, but I feel like we could be friends,” Tara admitted with a smile as a black car pulled, parked, and the driver got out.
Tara continued talking to you, but as soon as you saw the driver, you couldn’t hear anything else. She was, to put it lightly, the most attractive woman you have ever seen. She had dark eyes that captivated you and a stern look as she approached you and Tara.
“Who’s this?” The alluring woman asked, and you could only think, ‘You’re future girlfriend’ with a giant smile.
The younger sister beamed at her sister’s question and placed a hand on your back, gently pushing you toward the woman. “Sam, this is Y/N. She’s my friend,” Tara stated.
“Hi,” you breathlessly replied with an awkward smile as you stuck out your hand toward Sam. The woman looked you up and down before scoffing and slapping your hand away. “How come you’ve never mentioned her before?” Sam questioned while crossing her arms.
“Because, Sam, we just met tonight.”
At that, Sam’s eyes instantly widened as she stared at her sister. “Are you serious?! You don’t even know this stranger, yet you came outside to be alone with her?” Sam exclaimed as she checked her sister over for any injuries.
“I’m fine, Sam. And besides, Y/N isn’t that bad,” Tara laughed as she felt Sam’s hands check out of her body.
Sam stopped her movements and looked Tara in the eyes, “And how do you know that?”
Tara huffed at Sam’s question and turned to face you, “You aren’t going to murder me, Y/N, are you?”
“Yes, I am,” you joked with a playful smile, but Sam didn’t find it funny.
“Well, at least I get a heads up this time,” Tara chuckled, completely ignoring Sam’s bewildering expression.
Sam took in her sister’s words before shaking her head, shocked, “No, absolutely not. Come on, Tara, we are leaving,” Sam said as she walked to the driver’s side.
“Can Y/N come over at least?” Tara asked with puppy dog eyes and a small frown. Sam hated it when Tara did this, and her younger sister knew it always worked. Of course, Sam knew that Tara was only doing this to get her way, and Sam never denied her sister.
With a quiet ‘goddamnit,’ Sam allowed you to come with them.
“Thank you,” you said once you got into the back of the car and buckled up. You only got a small grunt in response, but you took it as a win.
The car ride was filled with low music and the occasional conversation between the sisters as you admired Sam. You were sitting behind the passenger seat, allowing you the perfect side view to look at Sam. Unbeknownst to you, Sam had caught you staring at her in the rearview mirror but made no verbal comment. ‘Fucking weirdo,’ she thought to herself as she quickly glanced at your love-sick eyes in the mirror.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Arriving at the Carpenters' apartment, Tara gave you a quick tour of the place and introduced you to their roommate Quinn, who naturally took a liking to you.
While you were on the couch talking with Tara, Quinn walked into the kitchen and found Sam glaring at you.
“She’s certainly something, isn’t she?” Quinn questioned while twirling her hair around her finger. You had taken off the fake beard, wig, and sunglasses and left your baby and baby carrier next to the door, and Sam had to admit, now that she saw your entire face, you were undeniably attractive.
Sam side-eyes Quinn before looking back at you and then back to the redhead. “I thought you were strictly men?”
Quinn chuckled at Sam’s response, “How can I thoroughly enjoy sex if I’ve never been with a woman? They know the female body better than anyone else.”
Not being able to form an argument against Quinn’s words, Sam nodded her head in agreement.
“Wish me luck,” Quinn said as she gently slapped Sam’s back before entering the living room, sitting right next to you.
And for some unknown reason, Sam felt a tinge of jealousy shoot throughout her body, making her hate you all the more.
You and Tara stayed up watching movies while Quinn occasionally hit on you. And when it came time for people to start turning in, Quinn gave it one last shot.
“Well, I’m going to bed,” Quinn said as she rubbed her hands on her thighs before standing up, “you can always come sleep with me, Y/N,” she finished with a wink before walking into her room.
Once she was gone, Tara apologized, “I’m sorry about her. She’s like that with everyone.”
“Eh, I don’t mind the boost of confidence,” you replied with a smirk. Tara laughed at your words, and her eyes darted to Sam’s door as it opened.
Sam walked into the living room and glared at you before looking at Tara. “Alright, Tara, I think it’s time for Y/N to go home,” Sam stated as she crossed her arms.
Tara let out a small groan as she threw her head back before standing up. “Alright, Alan, let’s go,” Tara replied as she pulled you off the couch and walked toward the door with you.
“What are you doing?” Sam questioned while watching you, and Tara put on your shoes. “I’m taking Y/N home?” Tara replied with a puzzled look.
“Nuh-uh, nope,” Sam responded as she walked over to the door and stood before it, “you are not leaving here this late at night with her.”
With a scoff, Tara looked between you and her sister, “Well, what do you want her to do then? Walk home?”
“Yes,” Sam immediately replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“So it’s not safe enough for me to walk with her, but she can go alone?”
Sam took a few seconds to think about it before responding, “That is correct.”
Tara sighed; she knew there was no point in arguing with Sam, but she got a bright idea. “Well, since you won’t let me take her home, you can,” Tara suggested as she removed her shoes.
“No!” You and Sam exclaimed at the same time but for different reasons. Sam didn’t want to take you home because she did not like you at all. While you, on the other hand, didn’t want to be left alone with the woman because you knew for a fact you would be a blushing mess and wouldn’t be able to form a sentence.
“I’ll take her home,” a voice called from behind you, and you turned to see Quinn leaning against her door frame. The redhead wore a sheer white blouse, and you could see her red lingerie bra.
“I’m fine with that,” you replied too quickly with a smile on your face.
But Sam scoffed at your words before moving to grab her keys. “Absolutely not. Come on, Y/N. I’ll take you,” Sam stated as she pushed past you to open the door. You gave Quinn a small wave and told Tara you would text her as you gathered up Carlos, your fake beard and wig, along with your sunglasses, before following Sam out to her car.
“Thank you for taking me home. I appreciate it, Sam,” you commented as you buckled up. Sam huffed in response as she started her car.
“How do I get to your house?” Sam asked after a few moments of driving down a random street. You told the woman your address, and Sam wanted to scream when she realized it would take almost thirty minutes to get to your house due to traffic.
The car was filled with the heavenly voice of Lana Del Rey as you leaned your head back against the headrest and looked over at Sam. You couldn’t explain it, but Sam was exactly what you would imagine a Lana Del Rey song would look like.
“Stop staring at me; you’re creepy as shit,” Sam said once she felt your eyes on her.
You awkwardly cleared your throat as you uncomfortably shifted in your seat while staring at the floor. “So, Tara told me your favorite movie is The Hangover?” You questioned while fidgeting with your fingers.
A few seconds passed before dryly said, “Yes.” And even more, seconds passed before she added, “I hope Carlos had a fun night.”
You lightly chuckled at the woman’s words as you messed with Carlos’ plastic hands, “Yeah, he had a blast tonight.”
Sam responded with a small ‘mhm’ as she continued driving, enjoying the awkward silence that filled the air.
When Sam arrived at your apartment, she realized that you lived in the nicer part of New York, and she loathed you for it. Not only were you a nuisance, you were more than likely a spoiled rich brat, and Sam could not wait to get rid of you.
“This is me,” you quietly mumbled while getting out of the vehicle with your items in hand as Sam rolled down the window to talk to you, “Thank you for the ride, Sam. I appreciate it,” you said as you pulled out your wallet and handed the woman a ten dollar through the window.
She looked between you and the money before staring into your eyes, “I’m not having sex with you for money.”
You furrowed your eyebrows and shook your head. “What? No. No! That’s not what I was implying,” you quickly defended before looking at Sam, “Why would you think?”
The woman shrugged her shoulders before speaking, “Because all you’ve done tonight is stare at me, so you either want sex or want to kill me,” Sam suggested.
“Why would I want to kill you?”
“Because you’re being creepy as shit! And you told Tara you were going to murder her.”
“Okay, fair enough. But I was completely joking about the whole murder thing,” you replied with a small laugh that Sam clearly didn’t find funny. You didn’t know about the past traumas the sisters have gone through together, and Sam knew that you didn’t know, but it didn’t make her feel any better toward you.
“Whatever,” Sam replied as she took your money before driving off.
“Goodnight, Sam!” You exclaimed while the car pulled away, and you sighed before heading to your apartment. Sam might not be the biggest fan of you right now, but you vowed you would win over the woman’s heart, no matter what it took.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Winning over Sam was much more challenging than you initially thought it would be. Every time you visited Tara at her place, Sam wouldn’t even acknowledge you, and anytime you would try to talk to her, she would quickly dismiss you. But you were ever the persistent type, and you knew you would eventually wiggle your way into her heart.
It had been exactly four months since you met Tara, and the girl was planning a memorable evening for you two to celebrate the milestone in your friendship.
You approached her apartment door and knocked thrice. Within a few seconds, the door slowly opened and revealed a grumpy Sam. “What do you want?” The woman questioned while looking up and down, her eyes moving to your right hand, “Why do you have flowers?”
“These are for you, actually,” you replied with a smile as you handed Sam her flowers. Sam studied you before reaching out and accepting the flowers, “Thanks, I guess.”
Now, Sam would never admit this even if someone held a gun to her head, but the way she felt knowing that you had gotten her real flowers and not some cheap fake ones from the Dollar Store, it was different. No one had ever brought her flowers before, and especially not in a romantic way, if that’s the game you were playing at.
The Latina studied the flowers and couldn’t help but chuckle at them: lavenders and violets; how subtle you were.
“So,” you said with a cheesy smile, “I’m here to hang out with Tara.”
“Tara! Your weird friend is here!” Sam shouted into the apartment before walking into the living room, with you a few steps behind her.
‘Sweet, that’s exactly how I like to be announced,’ you thought while moving to sit on the couch. You silently watched as Sam walked into the kitchen and threw away the flowers, and it pained you to see the beautiful blooms go to waste.
A few seconds passed when an overly excited Tara came into the living room and jumped onto the couch right next to you.
“Alright, here’s the plan: we order pizza, watch a movie and make some cookies, and then drink wine and paint. Deal?” Tara asked with eagerness and a giant smile on her face. “Sounds like a deal,” you replied while matching her grin. “Good,” Tara exclaimed while jumping off the couch and hunting for her phone to call in the pizza.
When the pizza arrived, you and Tara ate at the kitchen table along with Sam and Quinn. Naturally, the dinner was a bit awkward, as Quinn kept on hitting on you, and Sam would glare at you. You weren’t going to lie; you enjoyed the redhead's attention and were more than eager to answer her questions about your hometown and what you were majoring in.
Once you four had finished the pizza off, Tara set up a movie in the living room while Quinn left to go meet up with one of her many gentlemen callers, leaving just you and Sam in the kitchen.
The Latina watched as you pulled out some cookie dough and began preparing. “You know, you could always help,” you said while turning on the oven and pulling out a baking pan, and cleaning it off.
“I’m good,” Sam dryly replied as she crossed her arms and continued watching you work. You felt uncomfortable with her eyes burning into the back of your skull, “Stop staring; you’re creepy as shit.”
Sam huffed at your words before letting out a sound that sounded like a slight chuckle. “You’re one to talk,” the woman retorted while watching you eat a raw cookie dough bite, “you know you can get salmonella and die from that, right?”
You lightly chuckled at Sam’s as you finished eating the cookie dough, “Then I will be the first person in the history of the world to die from salmonella.”
You ignored the quiet ‘thank god,’ Sam muttered under her breath as Tara entered the room. “How are the cookies coming?” The girl questioned while eating a raw piece of cookie dough as well. “There wouldn't be any if you two keep on eating them,” Sam stated as she pushed you away from the pan and set the pieces of cookie dough on it.
“Why did you do that? I am perfectly capable of setting them out myself,” you said while watching Sam finish placing the cookie dough on the pan. “Because you and Tara would just eat it all,” the older woman replied as she put the pan in the oven and closed the door.
“If you say so,” you retorted as you entered the living room with Tara. You sat on the couch first and allowed Tara to cuddle up next to you as she pressed play on the movie.
You two enjoyed the peaceful comfort that had fallen over you when Sam called out, “Cookies are done,” while walking into the living room. “Seriously, you two? Shrek?” Sam asked while she watched the screen. “Yes, Sam. Shrek is amazing,” Tara retorted as she pushed off you and practically flew into the kitchen.
You gave Sam a tight-lipped smile as you walked past her and ate some cookies with Tara. And soon enough, Sam joined you two in the kitchen.
The woman stared at you as you finished your cookie and walked toward you. “You have something on your lip,” Sam said as she reached out and gently wiped away a piece of chocolate from the corner of your lips. You felt your heart explode at the contact and your knees weaken; you thought you would surely die if Sam kept this up.
She let her thumb linger on your lips before gently swiping it across your bottom lip with a smirk on her own lips before walking off to her room. She didn’t know why she did it, but it stirred something in her as she watched your shocked expression and lustful eyes dance across her face.
“What the fuck was that?” Tara asked as she shoved you once Sam was out of earshot.
“Huh uh,” you replied with a love sock grin as you stared at the hallway Sam disappeared into. The more petite girl gave you a look of disgust before pulling you into the living room to drink and paint, but your mind kept on drifting back to the beautiful woman who hated you as you worked. And before you knew it, you had accidentally painted a picture of Sam. In the painting, she was leaning against a doorframe wearing a skin-tight gray long-sleeve shirt that highlighted her muscles with jeans. A casual outfit you had seen Sam wear numerous times, but she still looked breathtaking.
Her eyes amused you the most in the picture; even though it wasn’t a close-up painting, her dark eyes still seemed to pull you in, and you could faintly see the monster she hid behind them.
You fell head over heels for Sam Carpenter that night.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once every month, you would go over to Tara’s apartment for wine and painting, and it was probably the one night you looked forward to every month.
Not because you got an excuse to drink and stare lustfully at Tara’s controversial hot sister, but because you enjoyed creating the most horrific art pieces with the girl that no one should ever see.
“What the hell is that?” Tara drunkenly laughed one night after a few too many glasses of wine.
“I don’t know!” You said while watching Tara’s tone. You had created what was supposed to be your version of Sully from Monsters Inc but had made a giant blurb of blue and purple with the slightest resemblance to Ed Sheeran.
“Will you two keep it down?” Sam asked as she walked into the living room, wearing nothing but a bra and shorts.
You choked on your spit when you saw the woman and nearly fainted when a single drop of water ran down her defined abs.
“Sorry about that, Sam,” Tara replied with a drunken smile before returning to her painting, entirely ignorant of your lustful state.
One moment you were sitting next to Tara, and the next, you were in the kitchen next to Sam.
“Hey,” you husked out with a flirtatious smile and a nod as you leaned against the doorframe, trying your best to act sober and calm simultaneously.
“Hi,” Sam suspiciously replied as her eyes racked over your body and took in your drunken state.
“How you doin’?” You asked, and Sam couldn’t help but laugh at your shitty attempt to flirt with her.
“What do you want, Y/N?” Sam asked while getting out a bottle of water and facing you. You shrugged your shoulders as you pushed off the doorframe, “Would you like to come paint with us?”
At the mention of her sister joining in on the activity, Tara yelled from the living room, “Sam! Sammy! You have to come and paint with us!”
Sam sighed at her sister’s words before walking into her room, throwing on a random shirt and grudgingly sauntering into the living room and picking up a blank canvas as she sat beside you.
You three worked in silence as the soft sounds of Hozier filled the air. Sam would occasionally sneak a peek at your work, but you would always hide it. And when she finally got a good look at it, she wished she hadn’t seen it.
“Y/N. Why the fuck did you paint a naked lady?” Sam demanded as she stared at your artwork.
It was a sloppy picture of a woman wearing a white dress with one boob hanging out, and Sam had to admit, those had to be the biggest boobs she’s ever seen. The lady in the painting wore a faint black hat, and somehow, she looked familiar to Sam.
“Do not hate on my lovely wife, Samantha Carpenter. I shall have you know that Lady Dimitrescu is one of the finest women I have ever seen!” You defended while looking over at Sam’s artwork, “And what did you come up with?”
When you leaned over and saw what Sam had made, you couldn’t hide your disappointment. A frown pulled at your lips as you looked at a shitty painting of Sam stabbing you with a knife.
“It was a joke,” Sam whispered as her heart broke at your saddened expression. When she first started it, she felt good about it, and it made her happy. But now that she looked at your hallowed eyes and frowning lips, she wished she hadn't made it.
“No, it’s okay,” you replied as you cleared your throat and stood up, “Well, this has been fun, but I’m going to bed,” you finished as you walked off to Tara’s room and shut the door. You ignored the feeling of Sam’s eyes burning into your back.
“Way to go, Sam,” Tara scoffed as she stood up from the couch and went to her room to check on you. She knew of your feelings for Sam, and Tara tried her best to get her sister to warm up to you, but no matter how hard she worked, Sam refused to bridge.
But Tara didn’t know that Sam went to bed that night with regret plaguing her heart and mind as she went to sleep with the thought of you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After that awkward night, you stopped coming to the Carpenter’s apartment as much. At first, you would say that you would have homework to catch up on, which was true, but then after a while, you completely stopped coming over at all.
Of course, you would talk to Tara every day, but when she invited you over, you would miraculously have something else to do that prevented you from coming.
“It’s because of Sam, isn’t it?” Tara asked you. The two of you were back at another frat party for Miles, and you were enjoying a peaceful conversation outside when Tara finally asked the question that had been plaguing her mind for weeks. “Pshh, no,” you replied with a shrug.
“Y/N, stop lying to me; I know it’s because of that picture she made,” Tara stated as she stared up at you, “Sam didn’t mean it.”
You scoffed at your best friend’s words while rolling your eyes. “The fuck do you mean she didn’t mean it, Tara!” You exclaimed.
“I mean, she felt bad afterward.”
“Yeah, right. You’re just lying because you want me to come back over.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Tara replied with a smile.
You two continued your conversation while occasionally people-watching until it was time to leave. Sam had slowly started to loosen up with Tara, so she was letting her sister go out more as long as she was there to pick up the girl. “Alright, Sam is on her way,” Tara commented when she read a text. You nodded at the girl’s words and tried to hide that you didn’t want to see Sam.
You hadn’t talked to the woman since that night, and you didn’t want to. Even though you were hopelessly devoted to Sam, you were hurt by how she treated you. You had been nice to her, and she would reject all of it, and weirdly, it hurt you to see Sam push you away.
Tara picked up on your pondering thoughts and reached a hand out, and rubbed it up and down your bicep. “Y/N, Sam is a grumpy asshole who is overprotective; don’t take it personally,” Tara said while reaching up to pinch your cheek with a smile.
“I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Sam said as she approached you two. You quickly slapped Tara’s hand away from your face before looking at Sam. You had missed the dark-eyed woman and were glad to see her again, but you were still upset with the woman.
“No, you’re good,” Tara replied as she started following Sam to her car with you beside her.
The walk back to the vehicle was peaceful and filled with small banter between you and Tara, while Sam kept quiet until you ran into a group of drunken girls.
You could tell that they meant trouble before you were anywhere near them. The group was small, only consisting of three girls, but you could tell they were trouble as they stared down Sam when they walked past.
Sam pulled Tara into her side as the group walked by, and the woman said nothing when one of the girls shoulder-checked her.
“Come on,” Sam whispered while pulling Tara closer to her. You sent the group of girls a glance while walking, and you noticed how they stopped and turned around, and began walking behind you and the sisters.
“Hey!” One of the girls called, and Sam didn’t have time to react when she turned to face the girl and had a red slushie thrown on her.
The girls called Sam anything from a murderer to a liar, even to a whore, but Sam continued walking with tears in her eyes. She could handle all of the conspiracy theorist nuts, but she couldn’t handle having Tara see how she was treated.
So, when one girl called Sam a murderer again, you turned around and threw a punch. The sound of bone crunching rang throughout the air when your fist made contact with the girl's nose and was followed up by the girl's cries.
“You need to get your psycho girlfriend in check, you fucking murderer,” another girl cried out as she checked on her friend. You chuckled at the girl’s words and were getting ready to retort when you received a punch from the third girl.
You stumbled backward into Sam, and to your surprise, she caught you and whispered a quiet “I got you,” while you steadied your feet. “Come on,” Tara said as she dragged you and Sam away from the group.
The three of you walked briskly to Sam’s car as blood poured from your nose. When you reached the car, Sam opened her glove box and handed you some tissues, which you graciously accepted. You sat in the back seat while Sam drove, and Tara tried to talk to you.
“Tara, I love you so much, but I am in so much pain right now,” you choked out as you pressed the tissues to your bloody nose. Tara didn’t want to be the one to tell you this, but your nose was definitely broken, and she was not going to be the one to put it back in place.
“How are you doing back there?” Sam asked while quickly glancing back at you. “My nose is in my brain!” You exaggerated while holding your nose, and Sam chuckled at your response as she continued driving.
When you got to the Carpenter apartment, the blood had stopped pouring out, and you were thanking the gods as it had completely covered the tissues in crimson blood along with your chin. “Sit on the couch; I’ll be right back,” Tara said as she pushed you and Sam onto the couch.
Tara disappeared into the bathroom and grabbed a first-aid kit before returning to the living room, and she laughed at the sight of you and her sister. The slushie on Sam’s shirt matched the blood that had dried on the tissues and stained your chin, and you both looked like you had gone through hell.
Tara moved the coffee table closer to you and started to work on cleaning it up when Sam stopped her. “I got her, Tara. Go to bed,” Sam softly spoke as she moved the first-aid kit closer to her. Tara gave her sister a questionable look before muttering, “Okay,” and walking off to her room.
You watched as Sam pulled out some alcohol wipes and gently cleaned up your nose, and you let out a slight hiss as the alcohol seeped into a cut on the bridge of your nose. “I’m sorry,” Sam apologized as she finished cleaning your nose, “It’s broken.”
“I know,” you groaned, and Sam lightly laughed at your response. “I can pop it back into place for you,” Sam offered.
“Hell no,” you replied, laughing, “I would need lidocaine with epinephrine injected into my nose and then lidocaine sprayed into my nose! Then you would need a device to basically reach my brain and put a shit ton of pressure on my nose with it and your fingers to fix it!”
“Well, I’ll take you to the ER tomorrow so we can get it fixed,” Sam asked as she got up from the couch and saw the backpack you had left over before you went to the frat party with Tara.
“Y/N, what’s this?” Sam asked as she moved your bag and pulled out a painting. You whipped your head around at the woman’s words and instantly stood up from the couch and moved to her side. “That’s nothing,” you quickly said as you tried to prevent Sam from looking at it, but it was too late.
When Sam picked up the painting, she felt her stomach do involuntary flips, and her breath hitched in her throat; it was a painting of her and not just a normal one. She noticed imperfections about her that you saw as perfect through the gentle brush strokes, and she felt herself fall for you.
“I’m not one of your French girls,” Sam joked as she set the painting back down, but you noticed the smile that threatened to appear and how her eyes bravely traveled to your lips before returning to your eyes. “Goodnight, Y/N,” Sam added as she gently placed a small kiss on your cheek before going to her room.
You had no idea how you did it, but you somehow managed to make Sam Carpenter fall for you and you could not wait to see where it would take you.
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