#way like. I want the weight to stay off so i should play stupid games but omg going over my limits makes me anxious

[neonbodyache]

“a metab day should be 2k cal” i hear you and i understand you. However. what the hell are you saying to me

[kingkat12]

seven minutes in hell (roman godfrey x reader)

WARNINGS: 18+, public sex(??), voyeurism, emotional extortion (Roman is such an ass omg), groping, foul language, smoking, angst, mentions of sex

summary: after you made out with Roman during a game of seven minutes in heaven, he insists that you owe him for not telling Letha about it-- how can someone so beautiful be so evil?

word count: 8,192 (yes I know lol)

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9

a/n: after having my inbox flooded w sweethearts asking for a part two, here you go!! I do advise new readers to read the first one before this, because idk how much sense this is going to make without it lol, but enjoy!!<33

Paranoia. That was the only word that could describe the week that followed the party where Roman and I had kissed.

I had spent every waking moment wondering when Roman would show up to cash in his debt or prick me with a goddamn needle. His words lingered in my mind, haunting me; "Fine, I'll be nice. But you owe me," The reminder of those words sent a shiver down my spine, and I couldn't help but wonder how I could've been so stupid as to rope myself into something like this.

Roman knew I liked him. In fact, he knew it very well. I couldn't even mask my feelings with hatred anymore, and everything about that made me want to throw myself off a cliff-- that would probably be more merciful than whatever it was that I had in store. 

After we had made out during seven minutes of heaven, I had to tell my best friend, Letha, that nothing had happened. If she found out that I had made out with her cousin, I doubt she'd want to have me hanging around any longer. And quite frankly, Letha was my favourite person in the whole world, so it was detrimental that she stayed close. She was like a ray of sunshine peeking out through heaps of stormy skies; there was no way in hell I'd lose her without a fight.

Which is why I needed to keep Roman in check, along with my body un-pierced by any incoming needles. 

The first time I saw him after the party, was a few days later in the cafeteria at school. I had stopped in my tracks, completely turning to stone as I watched him with his friends. It was almost as though I was afraid he'd see me if I moved, and to my shock, that's exactly what happened-- as I shifted my weight from one foot to another, harshly gripping my tray of food, his eyes landed on me with a quickness that immediately threw me into a state of panic. I bolted with speed I didn't know I had, not stopping until I reached the other end of the school, panting. 

The second time had been at the library. I had been looking for a specific book that was quite old, meaning I had to do a lot of searching-- the librarian had been of no help, of course. As I scoured the shelves of endless books, crouching down to get a look at the lower sections, I suddenly felt a pair of eyes on me from above.

I looked up to find Roman's green eyes staring at me from the other aisle; his height made it ridiculously easy to lean over, having no visual obstruction of my side of the shelf. Something about the smirk playing across his lips made me freeze up-- it felt like I was prey, about to be eaten whole. I let out a squeak of horror as I grabbed the first book I saw, not letting him get a word in before I dashed towards the exit without a second thought.

The third time was the absolute worst; I had been walking down the stairs with Letha, on our way to our shared history class, as we suddenly encountered Roman on his way up. I felt my heart beat against the books I now pressed tightly against my chest, holding my breath as he neared us with a conniving look on his face-- I was quite sure I had lost all the blood in mine.

As Roman and Letha had a conversation about some sort of family dinner later, I did my best to make myself as small as possible; I wondered whether I should slip away into the crowd or just throw myself down the stairs. 

I was quite sure that it was clear to Roman why I was avoiding him, and I was even more sure that it also was amusing to him. It was rather obvious, with the way he obnoxiously eyed me up with a growing grin. "You okay?" he asked, nudging me. "You look spooked."

Asshole. Just the slightest touch was enough to make me flinch, and my words came out in a breathy mumble; "I'm fine," 

Roman nodded, exchanging a look with Letha. He grew taller when he took a step up, inching closer as he leaned over to check which books I had pressed up against my chest. His long, slender fingers reached forward to tug at one of the books to get a better look, and I would've missed the note he slipped down along the front of my history book if I had blinked. As Roman pulled away, dragging his fingers through his hair as though nothing had happened, I held my books as tight to my chest as I possibly could to not let the note slide down to the floor. 

My heart was beating harder than ever as Roman made his way past me, his familiar cologne lingering in my system as Letha and I made it to class five minutes early. As she left to use the bathroom, I could finally put away my things, inhaling a shaky breath as I checked the note;

meet me behind school in an hour, or I tell Letha everything

I couldn't help the groan that escaped me, ripping the piece of paper to shreds. This was not going to end well.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Somehow, I had managed to pry myself away from Letha for long enough to make it in time for my meeting with Roman. I was tugging at the sleeves of my jumper, anxiously ripping at the fabric. Wondering whether I should've worn protective gear to shield myself from any needle-kinks he might impose on me, I trembled with fear-- I didn't want to see him. 

Despite my wishes, Roman eventually came around the corner, a rather mischievous smirk spread across his soft, pink lips as he neared me. His hands were tucked into his pockets as he leaned against the wall next to me, his green eyes etching themselves into my skull. His usual cardigan was draped around his shoulders and over his white shirt, tied in the front, as he crossed his long legs in the classic Roman Godfrey stance. "I'm glad to see you came,"

"As if I had a choice," I mumbled, glancing at our surroundings, not wanting to be caught alone with him here. I had to do everything in my power not to look at the casual swoop of his hair, not wanting to think about how handsome he looked right now. "What do you want?"

Roman blinked twice, almost as though he had expected me to say something else. "Isn't it obvious?"

I was afraid my heart was pounding audibly in my chest. "No," My gaze darted down to my shoes, kicking away a nearby rock. "Can't we just forget any of it ever happened?"

"Well, that was sort of the draft of the original plan," Roman said, shrugging. "But you've clearly not been able to forget it, with the way you've been avoiding me for a week now... So it seems we have to resolve this, somehow."

Did this mean that I had only made things worse for myself? I wanted to hit my head against the wall and bleed out-- that would probably feel better than what I was feeling on the inside right now. "The actual kiss hasn't been on my mind much... Mostly just the needles,"

Roman let out a huff-- was it a laugh? "I'm not going to fucking poke you, could you calm down about that?"

"I can't be sure when it comes to you, Roman!--"

"So you haven't thought about it?" He cut me off, eyes sparkling with the need to know. "The kiss?"

If I'd had something to throw at him, I would've done so in a heartbeat. Why was he so keen on knowing that? "Not much,"

"Only at night?"

I couldn't even hold back my grimace, listening to him snickering like a proud toddler. "Definitely not," I grumbled, now kicking at another rock. "Why does it matter to you?"

Roman shrugged; "I don't think you understand how intriguing it was to find out you've liked me all this time," He watched as I continued to tug at the sleeve of my sweater, looking like a nervous wreck. The image before him made his grin widen. "You've been the biggest bitch ever, do you know that? I was dead sure you hated my guts until you begged me to fucking kiss you!"

"I didn't beg!" I exclaimed, protesting. "In your fucking dreams, Roman!"

He rolled his eyes, taking a step towards me. Feeling his presence inching closer, I stopped kicking the scattered rocks around me, looking up to meet his gaze.

Roman leaned down, matching himself on the level of my widening eyes. He studied me as I froze to my spot like an icicle, holding my breath to not get swept up in thoughts of how good he smelled and how soft his lips looked up close. "You're still running your mouth," he mumbled,  and I felt his eyes fall on my lips as well. "I thought you might get a little nicer if I complied with your little kiss."

His way of thinking had me furrowing my brows, confused. Was that why he kissed me? A tiny piece of my heart broke, the hope I had buried deep in my gut dissolving. Why had I ever hoped that his reasons for kissing me the way he did had been different? "I'll be nice if you agree that I don't owe you anything anymore. It's been driving me nuts,"

With this, Roman broke out into a rather abrupt laugh; "Are you kidding? There's no way in hell I'd absolve you of that, anymore,"

The laugh felt so damning, I couldn't help but shudder. I was two seconds away from kicking him instead of the rocks. "What do you want, then?"

Roman straightened up, the look on his face giving away that he was debating what to choose. "It's probably not something as bad as you expected it to be," he said, nodding to himself as he no longer met my hard gaze. "I'd just like it if you told me why you like me."

What? I stared up at him in disbelief, lips parting in shock. Had I avoided him like the plague over a simple question? Sure, it wasn't the most comfortable one to answer, but my mind had already concluded that he would stick me with needles like a voodoo doll and leave me for dead on a road somewhere.  "Uh... Could I ask why?"

"Nope,"

I nodded; "Okay...?" Clearing my throat, I pondered where to start. I hadn't actually thought about this question, and I had to scour my brain for the answer. "I don't know," I eventually mumbled. "I guess I just think you're handsome." Saying it out loud physically pained me, but I knew I had to get this over with.

Roman blinked twice, meeting my gaze with a rather empty look about him. "That's it?"

"I don't know? I think so," I shrugged, searching through my mind for more. "You're my type, I suppose. Tall, brown hair, green eyes... And unattainable. I guess that a part of me likes that you'll never like me back." Saying this out loud, however, was even worse. I hadn't thought about it like that up until this moment.

Roman seemed even more confused than I did. "So it was nothing that I did?"

Something told me he was searching for something more meaningful, but I had always known that my crush was superficial. "I don't think so..."

What followed would haunt me for days on end; Roman broke out into a rather maniacal laugh, running his hands through his hair in clear denial. "So it's just the same, then," he said in between hiccups of laughter. "It's not about me at all!"

I could only watch as he went into some sort of a mental storm, biting down on his lower lip to suppress the noise. "I don't think you quite understand how it is for no one to like you for you," Roman continued, now pacing back and forth as his trail of words sped up; "You've probably never had that problem, right? Guys probably like you because you're nice to them, I've seen that multiple times. Or that one guy that just hasn't left you alone since you sat together during assembly that one time-- what the fuck was his name?"

I held my breath; what on earth was I witnessing? "Roman, I think you're spiraling, let's just breathe--"

"Daniel, wasn't it?" Roman finally looked back at me, a cramped smile on display along his lips. "He definitely likes you for you, right? Not just because you're cute? That must be fucking nice." 

I had never imagined that I would pity someone for only being liked for their looks. Somehow, I found myself wanting to comfort him, and I had to fight that instinct. "It would probably be easier for you to find something real if you weren't such a prick," I mumbled. "If you didn't tug people's hair, throw stuff at them, or stab them with needles?"

That seemed to be enough for Roman to take a step back from his weird state, his pacing coming to a halt. Something seemed to be dawning on him, a crushing realization that should've come about ten years ago, but instead of taking it like an adult, he retaliated; "Well, you're not exactly doing any better than me! You've liked me for God knows how long, and you've treated me like utter crap!"

"Because you did the same to me!" I said, feeling my voice raise with my emotions. "You've had no interest in me, along with all the bullshit you've pulled all year! Don't you think it would probably be easier for me to like you for who you are if you had been a pleasant person to be around?"

Groaning, Roman turned his back to me, ready to walk away. After taking a few steps, he turned on his heel, facing me once more. Fury was burning in his green, green eyes, fists balling up as he spoke; "This is not over. You tell anyone just a tiny fraction of this conversation, I'll tell Letha I fucked you raw," 

My jaw fell in complete and utter shock as he walked away, cursing myself to the heavens and beyond. How had I managed to make this an even bigger mess than it was before I came? As I went back to kicking rocks, trying to catch my breath, bits of the conversation suddenly came back to me; did he just say that I was cute? That he had seen me with Daniel during assembly, and that he had spotted me talking to my previous flings?

This only made everything furthermore confusing; it was obvious that he didn't like me, either. But what on earth was going on in that brain of his?

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

The next time I saw Roman was a few days later in the hallway during rush hour. I had spent several nights tossing and turning, trying to decrypt the conversation that continued to haunt me. The conclusion I arrived at, was that he might be lashing out with the needles and the childish behaviour because he didn't know how else to express interest. 

But then again, that would mean that he was very interested in me. I was sure something was wrong with that conclusion, but I couldn't pinpoint any other possible theory at this moment. I also couldn't shake how upset he looked when he found out my crush was purely superficial; was his need to be seen for who he was so overpowering?

So when I finally flagged him down, Roman was in a rush, and this was rather unfortunate; my legs were much shorter than his, and I had to go into a jog to not lose sight of him. Eventually, I caught up to him, grabbing his wrist and tugging at the sleeve of his shirt to get his attention.

Roman seemed rather confused, glancing down at me with a wild look in his eyes which quickly died out when he saw who it was. "What are you doing?--"

"You smiled at me in class," I confessed, feeling my cheeks redden. "The sun was hitting your eyes in a way that made them extra green, and you smiled at me and handed me a pencil. That's when I knew I liked you." Slowly, I pried my fingers away from his wrist, letting out the breath I didn't know I had been holding. It felt like an enormous weight had lifted off my shoulders, like the anxiety that clung to me had been washed away in a calm stream of water in the mountains.

Why did I feel such strong a need to tell him my crush wasn't purely superficial? That it had stemmed from the simplest act of kindness? I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Did I pity him that much? 

Roman's pupils expanded, and he stood as if glued to his spot. People kept passing us by, but it was as though all the surrounding sound died out. It was clear that his mind was racing, his brows drawing together in confusion-- or was it disgust? I couldn't be sure. Either way, my heart was thumping so hard in my chest that it hurt. 

I cleared my throat; "Have... a nice day," Before he could answer or make fun of me, I turned on my heel and bolted down the hall, knowing my heart wouldn't be able to take it if he shut me down once more. 

I couldn't take any more of this. Clutching my heart as I made it to my locker, I knew I had to get ready for class and that I didn't have time for the crushing feeling taking over my chest. 

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

A big part of me had hoped that our last interaction would be the end of it all. That I wouldn't have to owe Roman anything anymore, that he wouldn't be threatening to tell Letha that we kissed or fucked or whatever-- I should've known that was an unattainable reality. 

I was practically falling asleep at the end of a long day of school. Exhausted, I allowed myself to close my eyes as I leaned my head against my palm, elbow at my table, waiting for class to start. A worrying thought popped into my head as I realized that chemistry was the only class I shared with Roman, which meant that he would probably be showing any time soon. 

With a yawn, I blinked several times, hoping to wake up as I sat back in my chair. I was about to do some stretches, but as I turned to my right, I let out a yelp, nearly falling off my seat.

And I would've fallen right down to the floor if Roman hadn't grabbed the edge of my chair, holding me back with one hand as though it was nothing. "Careful, there," 

That's exactly what he had said when we were in that damn closet playing seven minutes in heaven. I shivered, getting a severe case of deja vu as I looked back at him in disbelief. "When on earth did you show up?"

"Right around the time you nodded off," Roman's books were already on the table-- had I genuinely slept for a minute or two? How could I have missed this? He let go of my seat with a snicker, shaking his head; "You're quite the case, aren't you?"

I didn't like the sound of that. "What do you want? Why are you sitting here?"

"Could you relax?" Roman rolled his eyes, his mood worsening by the second. "Look around, Sherlock, there's nowhere else to sit."

It pained me to realize he was right. With a huff, I fought the urge to kick him under the table. As the teacher finally entered the classroom, excusing himself for being a few minutes late, I let out a sigh of relief; I hoped to avoid talking to Roman as much as possible from now on. After I had confessed to him and gotten nothing in return again, I was dead tired of seeing his gorgeous face-- it was physically painful, at this point.

As class started, I reached into my bag to find a pencil. A good minute passed by as I rummaged around, which eventually garnered Roman's attention; he immediately knew what I was looking for. He turned to me with a spare pencil which he had lying about on his table, holding it out in front of me.

Someone up there was definitely playing pranks on me-- I was sure of it now. With an embarrassed smile, I watched as the sun hit the green of his eyes, illuminating them further as I reached for the pencil. The tips of our fingers touched, just for a few seconds, but it felt like I had almost burned myself with how my nerves reacted to the nudge of his hand against mine. 

Roman seemed to understand the irony of the situation, the corners of his mouth tugging upwards into a dizzying look of kindness. 

There it was. The root of all my problems-- the simplest act of warmth along with the most beautiful smile I had ever seen. The bullshit that started it all. 

I hummed to myself as I broke eye contact, crouching over my table to start taking notes, desperate to distract myself. Every fibre of my being felt like it was buzzing with electricity, unable to calm down. 

It didn't take long before Roman shoved a small note onto my part of the table. I gave him a look before I opened it, sighing.

we need to talk. meet me by my car after school

Turning to Roman, I couldn't help but glare; this again? But his smirk melted me in more ways than one, and I knew that it could have consequences if I didn't go. 

Fuck.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I waited until there were almost no cars in the parking lot in front of the school, hiding away in the library in the meantime. I didn't exactly want to be seen talking to him. As I finally walked out past the front entrance, I held my breath as I spotted Roman leaning against his red jaguar, typing away on his phone. I wondered who he was texting-- was it Brooke from the cheerleading team? No, it couldn't be; unless she still wanted to be with him after he pricked her with the legendary needle.

It didn't take long for Roman to put away his phone, watching me as I neared him. Something about the way his hair lay in waves over his forehead made him look like even more of a heartbreaker than he already was. "Long time no see, hm?"

I didn't even want to fake being entertained by that-- we both knew that we'd seen each other in class less than twenty minutes ago. "What do you want?"

Roman rolled his eyes; "Can't you at least act like you like me? We both know you do,"

Something about being called out like that didn't sit right with me, but I swallowed my curses. I had to be on his good side, after all, so that he wouldn't turn around and tell Letha what had happened between us. "Did you want me to come skipping down the stairs and run to you?" I asked, getting a good look at him. "Or maybe a blowjob before I bake you a pie?"

A humoured smirk spread across his lips, giving in to a chuckle. "You could at least start by standing a little closer?" Roman put his hands up in the air as though he was surrendering; "Look ma, no needles!"

I huffed, complying. I took a few steps forward, watching the last car leave in my peripheral view. It was definitely not a good idea to be alone with him like this-- I should've known better. 

This didn't seem to be enough for Roman, who proceeded to tap the spot next to him on the hood of his car. 

I groaned; "Roman, come on--"

In a swift motion, he hooked his fingers inside my front pockets, dragging me forward as I yelped. Roman grabbed my hips, forcing me down on the car with a soft thud. With wide eyes, I turned to him, watching his hands disappear back into his pockets. 

"You're infuriating," Roman mumbled under his breath, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from his right pocket. He held it out in front of me; "Want one?"

Honestly, I had only smoked once. It had resulted in me coughing up what felt like half a lung. "No, thanks," 

He shrugged, lighting up a cigarette as he hummed. This little dance around why he had told me to come made me further nervous, once again reaching for the sleeve of my sweater, tugging at the seams that had come loose. The smell of nicotine infiltrated my nose, and I turned to him just in time to watch him exhale a few rings of smoke, eyes transfixed on them as they evaporated into thin air. 

Finally, Roman spoke up; "I'm calling for a truce,"

What? My eyes widened, scanning him for lies. "... What's the catch?"

Roman turned to me, a slight smile splayed across his lips. "You know me too well," he said, chuckling as a light breeze passed us. "I want us to play a game, and then all is forgotten."

"Oh no," I blurted out. "What kind of game, Roman? Can't you take pity on me just once?--"

I immediately shut up as I felt his arm wrap around me, holding out his cigarette in front of my mouth between his fingers. I wasn't about to start fighting him in an empty parking lot, so I parted my lips, accepting the cigarette despite knowing I would cough up everything I had eaten for lunch if I inhaled properly. 

Roman's face was suddenly very close to mine; "Ever heard of this game... Wait, what was it called? Seven minutes in hell?"

For fuck's sake. I watched as he laughed, amused by his joke. Still, my eyes darted down to his bouncing leg, watching as he gave away a sliver of nervousness. I reached for the cigarette, getting it out of my mouth; "Sounds about right," Balancing it between my fingers, holding it out in front of his mouth just as he had done to me, Roman hummed as he wrapped his lips around the cigarette, taking a puff.

Before Roman could take it back into his hand, I pulled the cigarette away from him, putting it back into my mouth. Something about sharing the cigarette was making a familiar ache between my legs throb, which in turn made me cross my legs. I didn't inhale the smoke into my lungs, keeping it in my mouth before breathing it out, knowing it was hard to differentiate between that and the real thing. "Where would we play?" I eventually said, glancing at him.

Now that we were sitting like this, Roman's arm around me, I realized we hadn't been this close since that party where we had kissed. Something about his embrace was comforting, despite me knowing that he was doing it to take the piss out of me. However, my steadfast belief in his reasons became shaky as I met his eyes, watching how unusually big his pupils were as he looked down at me, a certain calmness about him. "My car?"

I couldn't help but giggle as I handed him the cigarette, our fingers meeting in the exchange. "I'm not making out with you in your car,"

"Why not?"

"Every single cheerleader slut at this school has been in the back of that thing," 

Roman shrugged; "Not everyone. Eleven out of fifteen,"

"Ew, you're not making it any better!--"

"Fine!" he huffed, giving me a squeeze with the arm he had around me. Roman put out his cigarette by throwing it to the ground, giving it a proper stomp before he turned to me, a mischievous smirk on display. "No one has been in the front, though."

It was hard to say no when he looked at me like this; how was it possible for someone so conniving to be so beautiful? I had to look away from Roman-- it was getting impossible to breathe. Tugging at my sleeves once more, I realized I had ripped out a new seam. "Look, I have to say I'm a little confused... You're not even into me, so I don't get why you'd want to kiss me again," I let go of my sweater, realizing I would probably manage to rip it all apart if I didn't calm down. "It really is a power thing for you, isn't it?"

Roman hummed, rubbing my arm in a soothing manner as he stared out at the parking lot with a rather hollow look in his eyes. "Yeah... That's definitely what it is,"

I didn't have time to wonder why he didn't sound so convinced. As I dared to look at him again, I watched him lost in thought, pondering something. I took that as my cue to get out of playing his game; "Making out would probably be fun and all, but don't you think it is more beneficial for you if we maybe got to... I don't know, know each other?"

Confused, Roman's gaze darted back to me. "Why?"

"You seemed to be a little upset that I didn't like you because of you, remember?" I gave him a playful nudge, drawing forth a smile. "Instead of imposing your weird dominance kink or whatever it is on me, wouldn't you want to prove that there's more to you?"

This seemed to strike a chord with Roman, who slowly started to nod in approval. "That... doesn't sound so bad,"

I damn right hoped so-- I let out a shaky breath, relieved to not become the twelfth girl to end up in Roman's car.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

I couldn't believe that I had managed to fix myself up with a date with the Roman Godfrey. He was practically known for never going out on dates with anyone, but here I was, running around my room trying to find something nice to wear.

However, there was one tiny hoop I had to get through-- Letha was on speaker phone as I rummaged through my drawers, and my heart was racing as I tried to avoid her questions."I still don't get why you can't hang out today!" Letha whined, clearly upset with me. "I thought you were going to help me pick out some shoes down at the sale!"

I grimaced, feeling like the biggest prick on the planet. "I'm sorry, Letha, I'm just not feeling too good..." With a heavy heart, I could hear her sulk on the other end as I finally found the perfect bag. 

"I've barely seen you this week... You've been so jumpy, I just feel like you're avoiding me. Did I do something?"

No, no! I was about to protest until I heard a sound coming from my driveway; I made my way to my window, glancing down at Roman's red car, watching as he parked. Clearing my throat, I rushed to my phone; "Letha, I'm so fucking nauseous, I think I need to throw up... I'm so sorry, could I call you back later?"

I heard her sigh; "Get better soon, okay?--"

As Roman started honking outside, clearly impatient, I had to leave the call without even saying goodbye. Groaning, I gathered my stuff, making my way down the stairs and outside with hurried steps. "Stop that!" I said, trying to steady my breathing as I approached the car. "My parents are inside!"

"So what?" Roman's cocky smirk was on display as always, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel. "Whatever dumb fuck told you I'm a patient man, is a dumb fuck." Roman got out of his car to open my door on the other side. It was nice to see that he had a gentleman bone in him-- it gave me hope that this date wouldn't crash and burn. 

And weirdly enough, it actually went quite well. I had been worried that he'd take me out shooting or whatever it was that he did in his free time, but Roman settled for something simple-- we were currently sat in my favourite café in the city, having the most normal conversation we'd ever had. 

"You're kidding me?" Roman said, putting down his coffee with a look of shock on his face. "You've never seen The Godfather?"

I couldn't help but huff-- this was a solid reminder that he still was a guy at the end of the day. "I haven't gotten to it, I guess,"

"Well, you have to!" He ran his fingers through his styled hair, shaking his head in disapproval. Roman was wearing a different shirt today that I hadn't seen before, and I was getting the feeling that he had actually dressed up a bit despite how casual this date was. "What else haven't you seen?" 

"Uh, I don't know?--"

"What else haven't you done, is probably a better question," Roman was grinning from ear to ear now, eyes sparkling in anticipation. "First kiss?"

"David Parker, eighth grade," I put down my milkshake with a smirk, happy to be sizing him up. "You?"

Roman seemed beyond amused; "Amanda Reiley, sixth," He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table, intrigued that I wasn't backing down from his intrusive questions. "First time?"

I had to suppress a cough, feeling as though I was choking on air. There was no way in hell I'd tell him I hadn't had sex yet. "... Some guy I met on vacation last year in Greece, don't remember his name,"

"Really, now?" Roman hummed, leaning back against his chair. "Not buying it. You squirm like a virgin every time I look at you."

My breath caught in my throat-- "Pardon?"

It seemed that my reaction only amused him, but he still spared me by brushing over it. "My first time was with Denise Campbell, ninth grade. Was really sweet, actually,"

I tried to shake off the fact that Roman had been right in his deductions. The story of his first time was unexpected, and he had been quite young-- concerningly young. "Roman Godfrey and sweet don't usually go together, in my book. Did you light candles or something?" I took a sip of my milkshake, watching him break out into a smile. 

"Honestly? I think she lit one," he said, a soft chuckle following.

 I had forgotten how beautiful his laugh was. Flustered, I put away my milkshake, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear as I met his gorgeous, green eyes. There was a calmness about him now, something I had trouble getting used to. It was a big contrast to the way he had looked at me while we played seven minutes in heaven, or the way he had been looking at me the whole week I had avoided him. The usual feeling of unease that crept up my system whenever he was around was long gone-- it was almost as though we were friends. 

Nervous about my next question, I started picking at my nails; "So where did it go wrong?"

"Pardon?"

I didn't meet his gaze anymore. "When did it become casual to you?"

"Sex?"

"Sex,"

Roman hummed, taking a rather long sip of coffee. I wondered whether I had gone too far with the question, but he didn't seem fazed. "Didn't get too far with being sweet, I suppose,"

This was definitely a chapter in Roman's life that I hadn't expected to hear about-- who had broken his heart? And why was it comforting to know that he'd had that experience? Something about it made him more human. "That's sad," I mumbled, forcing myself to leave my nails alone. "Sweet usually gets you quite far."

Something about that seemed to intrigue him; he moved to the edge of his chair, closer. "Don't you girls usually like the bad guys? That seems to work well, in my experience,"

I shrugged; "It can be fun for a week or two. Any longer than that, and your heart starts to tire,"

"Ah," was all Roman said, tapping his fingers against the table in an impatient manner. "Would you want to get ice cream? It's on me."

This conversation was starting to give me whiplash. "I'm sold," I eventually answered, shooting him a smile. It was nice to know that he wanted to continue the date despite my intrusive questions-- I couldn't lie; I was rather enjoying myself. And my ego was getting the biggest inflation it'd had in a while, remembering he didn't usually go out on dates at all.

About half an hour later, we were now walking down the street with our ice cream, once again debating why I hadn't watched The Godfather-- boys really love that movie, don't they? I took the liberty of looking up at him as he explained the plot to me in excessive detail, watching his hands flail around in excitement as he spoke, eyes round and green, and the way a single strand of hair lay in front of his eyes, straying from his stylings.

The man I had hated this whole year suddenly became a person to me. A person with interests, quirks, and feelings-- weirdly enough. Roman didn't come off as a spoiled brat right now, and I could barely remember a time when I would run away from him and his needles. Like this, I could imagine sweet moments with Roman, possibly even holding his hand as we walked down this street, doing normal stuff together. 

In another lifetime, I would have really liked just doing laundry and taxes with you.

However, I was quickly yanked out of my daydreams when I spotted a familiar figure leaving the shoe store across the street. With a panicked yelp, I grabbed Roman, dragging him down the nearest alleyway as I felt my blood run cold. 

Roman looked beyond confused; "What are you?--"

"Letha!" 

His mouth formed an 'o', watching me press myself up against the wall. "She doesn't know?"

I shook my head, letting out a shaky breath. This was definitely not what I needed right now. If she found out I was here with Roman and that I had lied to her, I was sure she'd have my head. Why couldn't I just melt into the wall and become immaterial? 

With ease and calm, Roman grabbed my finished ice cream, putting it down on the ground along with his own before nearing me. "We'll wait it out,"

What? "Thought you were ready to rat me out?" I leaned forward, glancing past the corner of the alley, making sure Letha hadn't seen us. 

"Well..." Roman put his hand on my shoulder, guiding my back to the wall once more. "I know she'd kill you, and you can't die before watching The Godfather."

Had I not been preoccupied with being quiet, I would've groaned right in his cocky face. The hand he had on my shoulder burned against my skin, and I was getting flashbacks to our time in the closet at the party where we had kissed. "I've repaid my debt to you now, anyway," I mumbled, warily glancing past the edge of the corner where we were standing, watching Letha from afar. 

Roman's hand on my shoulder quickly made its way into my hair, fingers twisting themselves into the nape of my neck, forcing me to face him. I let my breath escape me as my lips parted, watching him with big, wide eyes; what was happening? It was at this moment that I realized how close he was standing, how he was practically pressed up against me.

There was something sinister about the look on Roman's face-- it suddenly dawned on me that he was still the same person, even though he had buried this side of him for a few hours. He would always thrive when seeing someone in an anxious state, feel joy at any visible conflict or misery, and it dawned on me how bad of a situation this was when his next words came out in a dangerous whisper; "I could just call her over here, do you know that?" Roman's grip on my hair tightened, almost enough to make me wince. "You've made quite a mess of yourself, sneaking behind her back. I could ruin you in a second."

"You won't, though," Fucker.

Intrigued, Roman's green eyes sparkled; "And why are you so sure of that?"

My chest was heaving against him, hating every second, every minute of this encounter. When had he turned into such a sadist? Was it after Denise Campbell in ninth grade? I wanted to make sure I asked him that next time. "Because this gets you high," I hissed. "This feeling that you get from watching me get scared? You're addicted. You're a fucking junkie." 

I felt Roman breathe out against my lips, leaning closer, eyes burning into mine. I could see the flickering flames in them, and I knew that I had set them alight-- I was quite literally playing with fire at this point. "Well, this is who I am," he said through gritted teeth. "Do you get it now?"

"Get what?"

"Why no one likes me," Now, the fire died out, turning into an unintelligible emotion swimming in the green of his eyes. I didn't need to be a specialist to understand that he was baring his coping mechanism for me to see. "Why no one ever will. And why you will go back to hating me once we're done here."

It felt as though I had finally finished a puzzle with five thousand pieces. This was it. Had Roman made himself so unlovable to protect his feelings? Were all his stupid quirks just means to scare away girls so that they would stop liking him? I couldn't help but pity him-- beneath his harsh exterior, I could sense who he was beneath all of it. In a flash of emotions, I reached out to touch his face with a wary, gentle touch. 

Roman's eyes widened, confused, as I moved away the strand of hair that strayed from the rest.

"I know you said this wouldn't be easy," I said, voice soft. "Whatever would ensue between us. And I spent a lot of time thinking about that, actually, and I think the answer is that you just make it hard for yourself." Sighing, I let my hands rest against his shoulders, watching his every move and reaction. It was obvious that he was caught off guard. "I pity you, Roman. But I thank you for making me realize how much guts one must have to feel... Why are you so scared?"

Roman just stared at me, his breathing coming out in shallow breaths through his nose. He stood as if frozen to his spot, and his hand left my hair, falling to his side as his eyes never left mine. "I'm not scared," he eventually said.

"You're terrified,"

"No,"

"There's no point denying, it's really fucking obvious--"

"No, it isn't!" Roman snarled, grabbing my hands, and prying them off of him. "Maybe I just don't like you in that way, have you ever considered that?"

I shrugged; "I have. But it still doesn't change the fact that I can read the fear on your face like an open fucking book,"

Groaning, Roman let out an exasperated sigh. He let go of my hands, the fury apparent in his unsteady breathing. It was obvious that he had never confronted his issues head-on, and that he didn't like the process one bit. "You need to watch your mouth,"

"Or what?" It was as though my fear had escaped me, staring him down with challenge burning its way through my veins. "You're going to tell Letha we fucked or whatever? Go ahead, see what I care! Just know that I will be telling the whole school that your dick is smaller than my pinky if you do."

Roman's eye twitched as he let out a guttural growl, body tensing up as he balled his fists, one of them returning to my hair. It was clear that I had angered him; he grabbed a fistful, yanking my head upward with a force that made me wince, pulling me flush against him. It was at this moment that I felt something press up against my stomach-- my eyes widened with the realization that he was hard. "Do you still like me?" he asked, his breath tickling the underside of my nose. 

When I refused to answer, Roman took my silence as a yes. "You're going to hurt yourself if you continue to,"

"Wasn't it you who proclaimed me a masochist?" I answered, a smirk forming on my lips. Something told me that I had him cornered. 

And I was right-- it was Roman's turn to go silent, staring into my eyes as multiple emotions flashed before him. Standing like this with him was almost comforting; I had finally deciphered him. I knew that he had practically built himself a fortress of hate and fired the canons at any signs of intrusions. He was so desperately human right now-- it was making me dizzy. Or was that just his harsh grip on my hair? 

"Roman?"

A hum.

"You can kiss me now if you want to,"

The hand in my hair loosened its grip, and I watched as Roman inhaled a long breath, no longer conflicted.

And so our lips came together in the alley, a rather hungry kiss ensuing. My hands went up into Roman's hair, letting out soft gasps against him as he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer to him with a burning need. I could taste the remnants of the chocolate flavoured ice-cream on his tongue, the sweetness mixing in with the roughness of our kiss. I wondered whether he could taste the vanilla on mine-- chocolate and vanilla were my favourite mix, anyway.

I knew there was a possibility of Letha spotting us if she walked our way, but it only made me more desperate for Roman. I had missed him dearly, the memories of our last kiss having haunted me through every hour of every day. There was no doubt in it now-- he wanted me too. It gave me such an immense rush, along with the satisfaction of feeling how hard he was against me, the throbbing of his cock continuing against my stomach as he pressed me further into the wall behind me. Something felt wrong about him being aroused after our fight, especially now that we were practically in public, but I knew I didn't want to push him away just yet. 

I was completely breathless by the time Roman shifted, his thigh now pressing up against the apex of my own. Caught off guard, I whimpered as he grabbed my hips, moving my hips against him as the kiss deepened, growing further needy. I could feel it in my bones; not only did he want me, he needed me. This was just about the biggest high I had ever had. Roman Godfrey-- all mine in this moment.

The friction between my legs, feeling his cock continuously brush up against my stomach through our clothes, had me gripping his shoulder, disconnecting our kiss to catch my breath. My head rolled back against the wall behind me as I pondered how I had allowed this to happen, not used to pleasure caused by others. 

Roman's fingers wrapped around my throat, holding me in place as we rocked against each other, lips hovering above one another before they came crashing together once more, unable to keep away. I let out a broken whimper, my hands flying back up into his hair, pulling him closer as pleasure coursed through my veins in a way I hadn't ever felt before. I couldn't quite put my finger on what this was, but I had never been this certain that I liked it.

I let out a broken moan as my head rolled back once more, which in turn had Roman connecting our lips, muffling any sounds. This was where I was reminded that we were in public, wondering if I had gone absolutely mad-- I blamed it all on him. His beautiful eyes, his strong arms, and his addicting, soft lips. As Roman continued to grind me up against his thigh, pulling away to watch my lips part and my body squirm in pleasure, I gazed up at the way the corners of his mouth turned up into his signature smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing-- messing with me like this, practically in public. 

It took a lot of willpower for me to push him away, whimpering slightly at the loss of contact. "We-- We can't," I said, catching my breath. 

Like this, I could see how disheveled Roman's hair was, how his lips looked swollen with kisses, and it made my stomach flip-- how was it possible for someone to be so beautiful, even when completely unraveled? 

Roman shrugged, grinning from ear to ear. It was clear that he was scanning my look of arousal; "My car is right around the corner,"

"Okay...?"

Leaning forward, Roman captured my lips in a short kiss. "I can park it somewhere desolate," he said, nipping at my lower lip. 

I couldn't help but shiver-- that sounded really fucking nice at the moment, but I knew I had to control myself. And I wasn't about to lose my virginity in a car? "Another time," I mumbled, struggling to catch my breath. Who would've known that arousal could cloud the mind like this? 

Roman nodded, accepting my words as a promise. "I'll hold you to that,"

Oh no-- This again? Great.

Just great.

(a/n: here are the links to PART 1, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9!<33 thank you for reading!!)

[withahappyrefrain]

Pad See Ew and Parking Spots

The last thing you need while sick is the equivalent of a Hangnail over.....or is it?

Another entry to the Parking Spots Universe read part 1 and part 2!

Warnings: Banter, teasing, Jake being an absolute simp, no y/n but reader's nickname is Venus

Your head felt like someone had filled it with cotton and was pressing down. Stuffed and fuzzy, the pressure on your sinuses made turning your head a labor of work.

The constant pressure on your face made it impossible to enjoy the unexpected time off from work, as watching TV was too strenuous.

Instead, you put yourself on bed rest, trying to find a comfortable spot so you could close your eyes and nap.

Just when sleep was within reach, the loud vibrations of your phone ringing pulled you out of your moment of peace.

Pushing away the used tissues and weighted blankets, you found your phone, the name of the caller lighting up.

Human Hangover.

Of course. It's like he had a sixth sense, always able to annoy you at the worst possible time.

You put the phone back in the midst of pillows, allowing it to continue to ring. Sure, you could text him, but why should you?

You were getting too close anyways.

During the last parking lesson, you actually smiled at the Men's Health poster child.

It wasn't even something you noticed yourself doing. He just looked so fucking ridiculous, blasting 'Venus' by the Bananarama in his dumb Jeep as he waited for you to walk up.

You had half a mind to turn around and shut the door. He was ridiculous, bobbing his head up and down to the music, giving you an exaggerated wink.

Had he not said anything, you wouldn't have gone the whole night not realizing what you had done.

But he was obnoxious, so naturally he had to let out a breathless wow as he leaned his head against the steering wheel with stars in those sea green eyes.

"What?" You asked, rolling your eyes as you got into the passenger seat.

"Your smile."

The worst thing was that you couldn't even muster up a sneer, an eye roll, a snarky remark.

Instead, a warm flush had overtaken your cheeks due to his statement. His stupid, corny words were having an effect on you, one that didn't give you an immediate migraine.

As fun as it was to get free dinners, have picnics on the beach, and take jabs at him, it had gone too far. You found yourself that night looking at his lips much longer than you ever intended.

So getting sick was actually perfect. You would ignore him, giving him that final push to go talk to the long list of other girls who were waiting for him. Girls that would let him into their beds, let him treat them as a hump and dump.

Sure, his patience was admirable-you truly thought after the third date-parking lesson- he would finally get the hiny. But he was just playing a long game. As soon as you'd let him in, he'd leave. Therefore, you should leave first. It was perfect.

You downed some NyQuil and put your phone on silent. A pang of guilt flared up in your chest when you saw the several missed calls.

It was for the best. The last thing you wanted, nay, the last thing you needed, was another person to remind you that you're only good enough for a fuck, not a relationship.

So you swallowed the guilt and closed your eyes, finally able to drift off to sleep.

Whether minutes or hours had gone by, you couldn't say. The loud banging on your door not only woke you up, but caused your heart rate to skyrocket and your blood to run cold.

Who the fuck…..

You had half a mind to pull the covers over your head. But something in the back of your head told you that the pounding wouldn't cease.

Using all your strength, you willed yourself out of bed, pushing away the covers and used tissues, grabbing your glasses to clear your vision. Slowly but surely, you made your way through your apartment to the entrance door.

Upon opening it, you immediately wished you had stayed in bed.

“Oh my god, you’re ok-wow, you look rough. Are you okay? Are you sick?”

“I can see why the navy kept you, your observation skills are astounding,” you deadpanned. Your reflexes were too slow, bogged down by the cold you had, allowing Hangover to prevent the door from closing on him.

“Why are you out of bed, you should be sleeping!” He said, sounding closer to your mother than his usual obnoxious self.

“I was doing that until you came,” you gritted out between your teeth.

Jake stopped dead in his tracks, “You wear glasses.”

Fuck.

Jake didn't think it was possible to find you more attractive. But you wear glasses apparently. Why don't you wear them more often?

"Yes, I also have exactly one head if you didn't know by now," you rolled your eyes, "Officer Hangover-"

"Lieutenant."

"Lieutenant Hangover, is there anything I can help you with? Because right now my priority is getting better-"

You stopped as you felt one of his hands gently press against your forehead. When did his eyes get so bright and intense? You had to look away from his stare.

"You're burning up," he murmured, his voice low and deep. God, you hated his voice. How it was smooth like whiskey, topped off with that slight drawl.

His stupidly large fingers gently grasped your chin, the cool metal of his class ring grazing your skin. Before you could comment, he titled your jaw up, forcing you to look at him and his ridiculous eyes.

"We gotta get you to bed V."

"That's what I was trying to do before you- hey!" Embarrassment flooded you as he picked you up like it was nothing. Within seconds, he was carrying you bridal style

"Put me down Seresin!" Jake couldn't help but smile at your words. Seresin. It was his last name, but you were calling him by one of his names.

Progress.

"Y-you're gonna get sick, put me down!"

"I'm in the military. I've had every vaccine known to man and then some."

You tried to jerk away from the circles his fingers were drawing on your back. Instead, your face landed right into his chest, the smell of cedar wood so strong, you could smell it faintly through your stuffed nostrils.

You pretended to gag, needing something to distract you from the fact he just picked you up so damn easily and was able to maneuver your body like it weighed nothing.

"Y'know how I can tell that you worked at Hollister? You douse yourself in that damn cologne." You mumbled against his broad chest.

Jake shrugged, "You don't complain."

He had a point, and that was the worst part.

"I-I need to sleep," you mumbled, something Jake found adorable.

"That's what I'm doing." Suddenly your back was touching your mattress. The hand Jake had on the back of your skull (when did that happen) gently guided your head to your pillow. His hands moved to your glasses, gently taking them off and placing them on your nightstand.

"How….how did you even find my bedroom? Are you stalking me?" Your weighted blanket was pulled over your chest, bringing warmth to your shivering body.

Jake chuckled, "You live in a one bedroom apartment. I'd be worried if I couldn't find your bedroom."

You knew you were ill because Crimson Chin was making sense. He needed to leave and you clearly needed more NyQuil.

A snarky comment was about to leave your lips when it was silenced by his hand gently tracing the skin on your cheek. Fuck, why was he so touchy? It was weird and you hated it, given the fluttering your stomach was currently experiencing.

"Just sleep, okay? I got ya Venus."

No, he most certainly did not. You two weren't anything, he was just some weirdo who couldn't park for shit and looked at you like he was seeing the wide open starry sky for the first time.

You were adorable sleeping. The way your lips were slightly parted, a cute little snore escaping from your mouth.

Jake could stare at you sleeping all day. He was quite tempted to, but he had other things he needed to do.

—----------------------------------------

"Hey, Venus. Wake up." When did you fall asleep? How long had it been?

Given that the sun was now setting, it couldn't have been too long, right?

Regret filled your entire being when you opened your eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" The human persona of regret and annoyance was in your fucking bedroom.

"How much NyQuil did you take?" He asked, quirking an eyebrow.

"Clearly not enough, as it didn't keep me from waking up to a nightmare."

He let out that low chuckle that made you so angry, your face heated up, "A nightmare? Most folks usually refer to me as their savior."

"It's been made pretty well known that the United States government doesn't have the greatest judgment, so I don't know why you're counting them."

Jake shrugged as he sat at the edge of your bed. It was then you noticed that he had one hand behind his back.

You reached for glasses, putting them back on. It took everything in Jake to stick to his plan and not tell you how absolutely stunning you looked.

He definitely needed to come up with a plan regarding getting you to wear your glasses more often.

"Well, I think this will change your mind," He grinned as he revealed what he was hiding behind his broad, well-defined back.

Your brows knit together in confusion as you stared at his hand. You look up at his face, then back down.

A container of Pad See Ew.

The question why forms on your tongue. It dies before it can even leave your lips, as memories of your first parking lesson flood back to you.

How could he…..better yet, why would he? Why remember such a minute detail, especially one that was a rare situation?

"I'm not going to sleep with you." Tension fills your body as you shift away from him. The air in your lungs feels constricted, almost as if part of you felt regret over your words.

It was the part of you that you had tried to squash so many times; the part that still had hopeless, naive dreams about being wanted. The part of you that always led to heartbreak whenever you followed it.

"Is that all you think I want?" His voice is soft.

Jake's not angry. If anything, he's fucking concerned because he thought that within the past month, he's made it pretty dog-gone clear he was crazy about you. That he thought the world of you.

Maybe Javy was wrong and he should have shown her the list of potential baby names he had saved on his phone. Perhaps that would have convinced you-

"Why else would you remember such a stupid detail?" You wanted to believe your anger was directed at him. But deep down, you knew it was also directed at all the jerks before him, the ones who made it impossible for you to enjoy a nice gesture.

Because it was never just to be nice.

"Because it's important and I enjoy listening to you?" It comes out as a question, though Jake's more so questioning why you find it so hard to believe that he wouldn't pay attention to you.

"I-I always remember what you say-the jokes and the non-jokes," He's trying to reassure you, but all you do is move away from him.

"You're wasting your time, Hagman. Just cut your losses now and go talk to the other girls who are dying to let you into your pants."

Your words are sour, much like the cold medicine you had taken hours ago.

"Why do you think that's all I want from you?" The tone he's using is new to you; it's not just soft, but there's a sadness that hangs around his words.

You shrug, your eyes now focused on your nails, "It's all anyone wants from me."

Jake's mind is now filled with the potential scenarios that would have led you to say such a thing, to believe such a ridiculous thing about yourself.

He has to remind himself to put down the container of food so he doesn't crush it out of anger or worse, spill it on your comforter.

"Who told you that?" You ignore his words, your brain too busy scolding you.

Why did you ever say yes to him? Why did you think you could control yourself? Stupid, stupid, stupid! You get yourself hurt every damn time.

"Hey," his hand on your shoulder breaks you out of the trance, "Who the fuck told you that?"

You jerk away at his touch. Why was he making this so damn difficult?

"No one had to tell me, I was able to figure it out pretty quickly when every attempt I've made at a relationship ends with the other person leaving me after they get bored."

Your eyes refuse to look at him; you can't. Not when memories of goodbyes over text messages and it's just not working, sorry are replaying in your head, mixed with flashbacks of nights where the loneliness was so overpowering, you cried yourself to sleep, desperate for something, anyone, to make the heartache just stop.

It was why not feeling was easier.

"Just stop wasting your time and leave me alone." There's a bitterness lacing your words as you spit them out. Your knees are brought to your chest, forcing your back to straighten.

Of course you're bitter. You dreamed about love, how great it would be to find someone to spend the rest of your life with. As a child, you didn't imagine your wedding but rather being married.

The world was cruel in the "lessons" it taught you. Not that you took them to heed, as now you were using all your willpower to not cry in front of the latest mistake.

It's an attempt to make yourself look stronger, tougher, not fragile. Jake knows it because it's what he's done so many times for God knows how long.

The front you put up is like staring at his own reflection. Deflect, make a snarky comment, and then push everyone away. No one can see that you're imperfect if no one is around.

Anger fills his body. Not at you, but at the fact he wasn't able to meet you before all those idiots filled your head with the idea that you weren't good enough. Angry that he couldn't go and beat those assholes up for making you think you weren't worthy of anyone's time.

So instead, he scoots his hand closer to you; not on your skin, but close enough to feel his presence.

"Look, I recognize I can't go and beat those assholes up for being the biggest idiots I've never even met," maybe if your thoughts hadn't consumed you, you would have chuckled at his words.

Maybe.

Jake Seresin isn't the best with words. Or emotions. Always was told they were bad (thanks Dad).

But like hell if he's going to just sit there and let you think that he doesn't think the world of you.

So, he swallows all the doubt trying to creep into his mind and is honest.

"But, I can tell ya this. I like you. A lot. Everyone on base is telling me I need to go get my head checked, but I know it's just because being with you on the ground is the closest I've felt to flying."

"And yes," he sees the way you look at him, question forming on your tongue, "I did compare being with you like flying. It's my life and I don't know…..I always thought it would just be my life and then I met you in that parking lot and you're bright and passionate and always say what's on your mind and I don't know I just....I want to do shit with you. Like take you to dinner and watch movies and bake cookies."

"You can bake?" No, that wasn't what you took away from his declaration (something you thought only was a thing in movies). But you needed more time to process what he had just said.

"Every year my mom puts on a Christmas Eve dinner and goes balls to the walls with cookies. My siblings and I always got roped into helping her, so we learned all her recipes. Of course, since I was the youngest, I mainly watched and stole spoonfuls of the dough until I was sixteen. But I can make her famous snickerdoodle cookies with my eyes closed."

It was then you noticed that when he smiled, the corners of his eyes creased.

It was endearing. Absolutely, completely endearing. His smile was comforting, like a warm fire on a winter night.

"Earl gray and lavender."

His brow knitted together in confusion; was it at your statement or that there was a small sliver of a smile when you finally looked at him?

"That's my specialty cookie," you explained as you reached for a tissue to wipe your nose, "I'll show you some time. Preferably when I'm not full of mucus and snot."

Some time. As in, you wanted to see him in the future. Show him a part of you.

"I'd like that a lot," he passed you the box of tissues.

The silence isn't uncomfortable. It's nice, serene even.

The small meow of your cat, Rugleach's way of alerting you that she was about to jump on your bed broke the quietness.

"Hey girl," Jake said to her, leaning down to scratch her chin. Your eyes widened at the sight of your cat, who hated all men, who was now purring and straining her neck to receive more pets from Jake.

Well, if that wasn't a sign.

Fuck.

"So this is the girl with more kills than me?" Jake asked, a cheeky grin adorning his handsome face.

"Yup, that's Rugleach. My protector from mice and birds," You smiled, leaning over to scratch her head, her purring being heard over your sniffles.

"You know," Jake paused, "I do have a security clearance so if you were to give me the names of those asshats , I could-"

"What, do you get a free stalking pass from the NSA?" You snorted.

"Yeah, it's part of my benefits," Jake responds, not missing a beat.

The corners of your mouth turn fully upwards and the most amazing sound comes out.

A laugh.

It's beautiful and melodic, just like you. The corners of your mouth are fully turned upwards, revealing a smile so bright and big, the corners of your eyes crease and your nose scrunches up.

Jake is thankful he's sitting down, but if he wasn't, he would have gotten on one knee and asked you to marry him right then and there.

So instead, he settles for leaning over to gently adjust your glasses that had been crooked.

"With a smile like that, why on earth would anyone let you go?"

His words combined with the tender action left you speechless, realization hitting you like a freight train.

Fuck, he was being sincere.

He was sincere the whole damn time. Ever since you first yelled at him in the parking lot.

A crumbled, used tissue hit his chest.

"Sap," you said, eyeing him with a teasing grin.

"This sap just brought you your favorite sick food. Besides," He leaned in, breath hot on your ear, "You don't seem to be complaining."

"I would never complain about Pad See Ew, Jake" you turned, hoping he couldn't feel how warm your skin was from his proximity.

It's the first time you said his name correctly. He loves it, loves the way you say it, how it rolls off your tongue so naturally. How sweet it sounds coming from your lips. How it’s your way of not just acknowledging what he said, but also how you felt about it.

He’d do anything and everything to hear you say it again.

He handed you the container, along with a pair of chopsticks. In return, you handed him the remote.

"If you put on some American military propaganda film, I'm kicking you out," You told him before taking a bite out of the dish, the noodles and sauce comforting on your throat.

Jake laughed, his hand squeezing your knee, which was a little annoying because it sent more heat through your body, "I mean, I just get really hard when Apocalypse Now comes on, can ya blame me?"

Your eyes couldn't roll back any harder, "That's a movie I've never seen and I know I'm not missing out."

"Wait, you've never seen it?" Jake's emerald eyes narrowed, concern filling them, "it's actually a great movie-not that it's my favorite, I mean, I thoroughly enjoy it but I don't get hard while watching it-"

He was rambling. Gone was the cocky pilot and instead was a guy who looked downright nervous.

You loved it.

"If I weren't so sick, I'd kiss you right now," his lips parted, though no words came out, "You should ramble more often Hangover, it's a good look on you," no attempt was made to hide your smirk at his reddening cheeks.

Jake sees this and it was ridiculously hot but also somehow totally adorable, probably due to the way the tip of your nose was so red from blowing into tissues and he just couldn't help himself.

A hand cradled half of your jaw, tilting your head up, making your lips in the perfect position for Jake Hangover Hangnail Hangman Seresin to kiss you.

You moved your lips against his, as best as you could when holding chopsticks and a plastic container.

His lips were like electricity, coursing through your veins. Your body was frozen, but not due to panic (which was the usual reason).

With anyone else, you would have been pissed that they thought kissing you while you were sick was a good idea. But with Jake….you didn't just expect it, you didn't mind it?

Yeah, you….didn't mind it at all.

Unfortunately, having a stuffy nose made breathing quite difficult, which is why you had to break away.

"You taste like Pad See Ew and NyQuil," Jake commented before pressing his lips against your right cheek. It would have to suffice while air returned to your lungs.

A laugh escaped your lips, "What did you expect? Again, you really should look into suing the government for all the brain cells you lost while in-what's it called? Grid lock?"

"So you do listen to me!"

"Can you not remind me of my mistakes? Thanks," you deadpanned, not minding the chuckle he let out. His lips pressed against your forehead, bringing a small smile to your face.

"Also, if you get sick, you can't blame me. Nor will I feel as inclined to bring you Mac and Cheese," you added before taking another bite of your food.

"I don't ever get sick," He scoffed, making you roll your eyes as you adjusted your glasses.

"That is exactly what someone says before they get deathly ill. I'm not going to figure out parking in a government military base. We're not there yet."

"So what you're saying," he leaned in, his breath once again on your ear and God, he needed to stop doing that or else you will kiss him again and will double his chances of falling ill, "We will get there?"

"You still need to learn how to park, Romeo," you paused, "speaking of which, you parked in the visitor lot, right?"

"No, that's too far away from your building. I just parked in front and hung up my work tag," Jake explained, as if that was the most sensible thing in the world.

"Jake….you can't….you have to park in the visitor's lot or else your car gets towed."

"V, they're not gonna tow someone who clearly works for the military."

"How much ya wanna bet?"

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

@abibliophobiaa @maxmayfield @rae-gar-targaryen @sebsxphia @hangmanapologist @mygyn @sovereign-lights @cherrycola27 @k-k0129 @princessphilly @mxgyver @misshoneypaper @topgunruinedme @loveless-simp @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @readerthatreadsss @fandomxpreferences @teenwolf01 @toastedside @fictionwhores @awesomebooklover17 @helluvapimp @itllbefineeeeee @whatislovevavy @phantomxoxo @ouralcohol @untoldshortsofthefandoms @dreamsofouterspace @chavivaelisheva @the-untamed-soul @afuckingshituniverse @dogbarkbark4445 @krmy2386 @callsign-scully @avaleineandafryingpan @dissonannce @sometimesicryintheshower @potato-girl99981 @princessofglitterland @wildbornsiren @mrsjaderogers

[joelsmochi]

Playing Dangerous

SUMMARY: female Reader, who works for the Cartel, received instructions to burn down a house for her boss. Javier went to arrest her, but once she realized he wouldn't play the same games as her, she knew she needed to offer up something else as her ticket to freedom... WARNINGS: 18+, no use of Y/N, power play, prostitution & bribery if you look close, unspoken degradation, handcuffs, unprotected piv sex, creampie, lots of good girl bombs, car sex (one day i’ll write good smut in a bed…one day) WC: 4.9k - It is finally here. The second story in my LDR series. So sorry for the long wait, but I hope you enjoy ♡

masterlist

You just can’t stay out of trouble, can you?

You were standing on your small porch with an admirably handsome DEA agent questioning you about a fire. You knew you had the upper hand here when you noticed his eyes casting over your half-naked body that glistened with a light layer of sweat.

“Do you know anything about that, ma’am?” He asked you softly; you knew he knew it was you, but what proof did he have?

You just smirked and shifted your weight from one foot to the other. “No, sir,” you cooed while pursing your lips.

He cleared his throat hastily and his eyes narrowed. “Really? Because witnesses say you’re the one responsible.”

Apparently, he had enough proof.

You shrugged, maintaining eye contact with him. “Everybody knows that I’m a good girl, officer.”

His body tensed at your voice’s softness but he maintained his composure for the most part. A breeze passing by gave your skin goosebumps and made your nipples perk up; he briefly daydreamed about his tongue twirling around it, feeling annoyed that he was thinking about something like that during a stressful time for him.

“It’s Agent,” he corrected.

Your eyebrows raised and you gave him a fake apologetic look. “Oh, my apologies.”

“So… It wasn’t you?”

“No, I wouldn’t do a thing like that.”

And it was mostly true. You preferred a less obvious way of taking out enemies and outposts, but your boss’s boss wanted everyone to know who was still in charge here. You disagreed with the approach but didn’t argue. After all, they do pay your bills.

“Are you sure?” He edged, sensing how you wanted to play games with him. He was over it, and to be frank, your short and thin nightgown had his head full of inappropriate thoughts that made him want to hurry up and get home to fuck his fist.

He hated how pretty you were in the moonlight with your makeup from the day still on, but his wandering eyes saw how fresh your lipstick was. He perceived it as your way of trying to seduce him, or whatever officer came by, and being turned on by it pissed him off even more.

“I heard from the neighbors that the house was already on fire,” you said simply with a swift shrug, but his warm and inviting eyes suddenly turn shallow and cold; you were thrown off of your game of lies so you attempted to change the subject. “Gosh, I’m all exposed here in my nightgown… Do you mind if I go and cover up? You’re more than welcome to come inside.”

Yeah. Right. Javier may be attracted to you, but he’s not stupid. You could take this as an opportunity to shoot him or kidnap him.

As harmless as you look, you were still one of Escobar’s employees and they typically did whatever they needed to survive with confidence. This just wasn’t a chance Javier could take.

“Nice try. Come on, hands on your head,” he said contemptuously while unveiling his handcuffs.

You frowned feeling confused at the sudden shift of his energy, stuttering over your own words as you defiantly obliged.

His eyes avoided yours as he readied the cuffs and stepped closer to you to make the arrest official. He didn’t care to be gentle with you either — why should he?

After all, you did almost kill someone tonight.

His slender fingers jabbed at your ribcage as his hand forced your body to turn around; you felt a few knuckles crack uncomfortably from how hard he pulled your hands from above your head to the small of your back.

“Do you really have to put those tight handcuffs on me?” You asked when he clicked the cuffs a little too far. He didn't respond.

He tried to keep his eyes off of how plump your ass looked beneath the thin gown, but it was hard when the force of his hands moving your body as he cuffed you made your ass jiggle effortlessly.

But still, he maintained composure.

You accepted your fate, but you still wanted to try to earn your freedom. Something you’d never done before but weren’t ashamed to do. Not when a man this handsome wears his heart — or rather, his cock on his sleeve.

He pulled at your arm roughly and began walking you to his car. The lack of communication from him only prompted you to speak even more.

“Please, I’ll do anything,” you said.

Still nothing.

“Please, officer, I will do anything.”

Fuck… How he would give almost anything to bend you over and—no.

He knew that you were just trying to get off scot-free, and he couldn’t—wouldn’t let that happen.

“Anything you like, sir,” you cooed oh so sweetly it nearly gave him a toothache.

He stopped you right in front of the car to glare at you. At least he tried to. Your smile was smug yet innocent, and your eyes expressed an eagerness foreign to him.

You weren’t a prostitute, and he knew that from your record. You weren’t the type to sell your body, so… Why do it now? He wondered if you were trying to be let go or maybe…? No, no, it can’t be that…

He realized he’d been in thought too long when he looked back into your eyes, and that eagerness hadn’t left. Was it possible you really just wanted to have sex with him?

The light in your eyes gleamed different than most of the women he’d been with — he just couldn’t put his finger on the particular emotion.

“Nobody has to know if that’s what you’re worried about,” you whispered as your eyes faltered to his partially exposed chest.

Oh.

The excitement and eagerness and anticipation he was picking up from you? It was rebellion. You didn’t want to have sex with Javier. What you wanted was to lay in bed with the enemy. It all made sense.

And it made him undeniably weak in the knees. His stomach flipped just thinking about it.

“Sounds like that’s what you’re worried about,” he retorted.

A flicker of vulnerability highlights your eyes that wasn't unnoticed by him. He didn’t understand why his body was under so much hesitation by your damsel in distress act.

Maybe it was how you called yourself a good girl even though everything about you screamed otherwise. Your short gown and your evilly beautiful smile… Your cockiness and playful personality…

Or maybe Javier had just gone too long without any.

“Let’s get in the back of your cop car, officer,” you keenly propose; though the repetition of officer had him gritting his teeth, he no longer wanted to hold off your fantasy of betrayal. “You can ask me anything you want.”

“Anything?”

You simpered at the way his eyebrows raised and nodded. “Anything.”

He didn’t hesitate with your negotiation, using his broody arm to swiftly pull you to the side of the Jeep before he opened the door for you.

He shouldn’t be doing this. No, Steve is gonna kill him. What kind of person takes sex from an arsonist as a bribe? Had his standards for morality really dropped that low? But he caught a glimpse of the still-burning fire in the distance and decided: what the hell?

He climbed in after you and shut the door, thankful you live in a more than secluded area. He could have been a gentleman and taken you to your bedroom. He just didn’t want to.

He studied you like any of Escobar’s other men — and you surprised him tonight. You were notorious for being hardheaded (that had only been proven correct tonight), but you also had the reputation of making men your bitch.

So he couldn’t help but wonder… What made him so different that you’d degrade yourself for an arrest that probably wouldn’t have even held up anyways?

Were you that desperate? Didn’t matter. He was going to find out.

“Do you have a girl?”

Your question threw him off. “Hmm?” He raised a questioning eyebrow.

“I don’t see a ring on your finger,” you said instead of repeating yourself.

“Uh, no,” he said though he wasn’t entirely sure what the truth was at this exact moment. “No Misses… Is that seriously where you draw the line?”

You grinned and giggled loudly, shifting to find comfort within your current restraint. “No, but that does make this a little less fun.”

He couldn’t ignore how his cock antagonized his jeans, enthusiastically twitching against his zipper. He cleared his throat and spread his thighs to try and give his member some room to breathe, to no avail.

His tone was mean and cold as he spoke. “Is that what this is? Fun?”

Your smile faltered almost entirely, replacing itself with a much more shy one. No man who was only minutes away from fucking you had ever spoken like that. You couldn’t deny the insecurity that suddenly rose inside of you.

“It doesn’t have to be,” you said bashfully, unintentionally batting your eyes at him and cowering your head down. As embarrassed as you were, you almost enjoyed it: the shame and the submission eradicated any impulsiveness within you. 

This was no longer an escape plan but a mere effort to make him remember you.

“…I can ask you anything?” He asked after squinting at you. He tried his best not to smile when he realized he was getting to you.

“Anything you want,” you said just barely above a whisper.

He watched you look at him through your eyelashes with admiration glowing in your pretty eyes. He took your chin between his thumb and index finger to tilt your head up a little; he gave you a crooked smile before asking, “Are you a good girl?”

Your heart leaped inside your warm chest. You wanted to stoop to his level and be mean and taunting right back, but you just fucking couldn’t.

God, he was handsome. So dark yet so bright. With a mysterious charisma that no other man could possess, he had you wrapping yourself around his finger. So… You try to appease him.

“That’s what I said, isn't it?”

You didn’t hear how harsh it came out, so it was a surprise when his gentle fingers wrapped tightly around your jaw below your chin. You whimpered and leaned your chest to his forearm, giving him goose skin.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed out. “I didn’t mean to—“

“Shh,” he whispered, “I know.” He teasingly moved your head around and half-smiled again. “Did you set the house on fire?”

“I—“

His grip tightened, resulting in your cheeks and lips being squished up a little. “I’ll know if you’re lying.”

“Y—yes. I did.”

“C’mere.” His hand remained clamped around your jaw while he managed to guide you atop his lap; he used his free hand to undo the button and zipper on his jeans and then reached beneath your nightgown and rubbed your panty line. “Good girl… Right?” You could only nod at his question, untrusting of your voice. His grip loosened so that he could trace his thumb over your tinted cheeks. “S’this what you really want?”

You gave him a daunting smile and nodded once more. “Yes.”

His hands disappeared below your gown; his right arm wrapped around your hips to lift you slightly while his left hand reached for his semi-hard length, pulling it out with a hard tug.

He kept his pouted brown eyes on yours the entire time, wanting to see every movement your face made. He pulled your panties to the side and let his swelling head meet your entrance.

Javier admired your patience — even dragging the head of his cock back and forth along your pussy lips for a minute wouldn’t make you act out of line. You wanted to prove to him how good you were so that he could forget all of the bad things you did.

He carefully placed his cock head at your entrance and slowly let go of your hips so that you could take your time to adjust to him.

A contentious sigh fell from his lips when he felt how tight you were compared to his girth. He took the liberty of undoing the rest of his shirt while you tried to gather enough stability to fully sink onto him, but with the lack of foreplay, a pain-filled hiss was heard by you.

“Take it slow,” he instructed confidently. “Take what you can.”

A sense of relief washed over you, and for the time being, you only took a couple of inches inside your needy cunt. You exhaled softly as you raised your hips kindly and slid back down.

Javier watched with attentive eyes, finding the little frown forming on your face adorable. Your eyes were shut with focus as you tried to maintain balance and a slow but consistent pace.

“Fuck,” you whispered, feeling the slight burning sensation of him stretching you out slowly dissipate into pure pleasure as your slick walls relaxed around him, allowing you to take more of his length in.

Even though his eyes were on your face, all his focus was on how tightly your sopping pussy squeezed around him. He loved how your pussy clenched around him to adapt to his girth. If your pussy felt this good now, he couldn’t wait to know how much better it’ll get when you come.

“Why’d you set the house on fire?” He asked randomly.

“What?” Your movements faltered, and you frowned at him. Is that seriously what’s on his mind right now?

“Did I say you could stop?” He said darkly.

You hesitated, stuttering out a, “N—no.”

But you were too lost in his stern eye contact to start riding him again.

So with one brief movement, he forced your hips down so that his cock filled you. A cry of pain left your lips, and you unintentionally tightened your knees against his thighs, which he didn’t seem to mind.

You were sure to not waste another moment, so you lifted your hips and took everything in again, but he filled you to your brim.

The bulbous head of his dick grazing against the peak of your cervix became more comfortable within a few more movements, and you finally gained enough composure to answer his question.

“I do everything the boss tells me to. Mnh…” You breathed heavily and settled at a steady pace, feeling your arms beginning to lock up behind you. “I don’t question it. I just do it.”

He surprised you by thrusting into you once as you were lifted, but he was careful not to go too deep. “Okay… I believe you.”

You grinned and sank onto him completely. “What’s your real name?” You asked him, leaning your face closer to his.

He stared plainly at your eyes and held his breath for a moment. “Javier.”

You rewarded him by going up…then down again. You watched how his body responded to the slow but forceful movement. “What a pretty name,” you complimented. “Do you prefer Javier… Or something else?”

“I’d prefer it if you stopped teasing me,” he groaned through clenched teeth. You felt his body tense up despite the lack of physical contact.

Your eyes battered back and forth in brief ponder. You wanted to tease him a little longer, make him beg for it even, but you had to remind yourself that he was in charge whether you liked it or not.

“Can you hold onto me for a second?” You asked, which he seemed happy to do.

Something about feeling up the smooth fabric that clad your body sent shivers down his spine and straight to his dick.

His long fingers found their way around your waist, and you trusted his grip enough to shift onto your feet so that you were squatting on him.

“Okay,  now I need you to put your arms under my thighs,” you instructed, praising him when he listened. “Just hold me steady, okay?”

You didn’t give him much time to respond before raising your body until his cock was almost entirely out of you, then you slammed your hips back down so that he filled you again.

He couldn’t prevent the pathetic and loud whimper that escaped his throat. The slight change in the position provided more than enough pleasure to make his entire body jerk. His hands instinctively grabbed the cuff of your ass as you repeated the motion at a relentless pace with an intense force every time you squatted.

At this angle, your walls gripped around him so much he grew afraid he would come too soon, but he couldn’t stop — he didn’t fucking want to.

Everything felt too good. You were so wet for him, and he felt your hot precum leak out of you and coat his balls. Your ass was warm but still covered in goosebumps from how his cock stretched you out so sweetly — nothing was painful anymore. Not even your handcuffed wrists.

Seeing the pure bliss spread across his face was motivating you to continue. His eyes were shut, and his eyebrows were raised with concern. You watched as his tongue flicked across his bottom lip between the helpless moans he let out.

When he noticed how quiet you were, he looked at you worriedly, but you were just focused on being good for him. He saw how heavy your eyes were and how you were almost biting back your moans.

“That feel good?” You asked when you saw him look.

His eyebrows stitched together as he profusely nodded and gripped even more of your ass. “Yes, fuck yes, keep going,” he encouraged.

The strap to your gown slipped down your shoulder enough to reveal part of your nipple. Javier was inclined to fully unveil your breast, but something about almost seeing all of you was more invigorating, at least for the time being.

All these feelings were too much: he had to come, but he didn’t want to stop. But your velvety walls only felt like they were getting tighter and tighter.

You felt him getting close with how his body kept twitching, flinching, and tensing up with every squat. His moans grew breathy and hitched rather than full of bass. He wouldn’t be able to hold off any longer.

He let you get him as close as possible. So fucking close. His body was on fire, and his head fell back against the seat again.

His cock was tortured by the slickness of your walls that dared him to empty himself inside of you, but when an inch of his orgasm had begun, he was quick to push your hips up and slip himself out of you.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he shouted. You chuckled, shifting back to your knees for comfort, then leaned forward to kiss him. He looked up at you again and gave you an embarrassed smile. “Fuck, sorry,” he laughed against your lips. His laugh was so sweet and gentle.

You loved the way he talked and how hollow his voice sounded. His words were bitter, but his voice tasted so sweet.

He gave you another kiss while lifting you off his lap; he guided your body so that you were on your knees facing the window before pulling your panties aside again to slip back into your glistening pussy.

You gasped at the newfound depth and rested your head on the seat, smiling when you felt him tug at the link connecting the handcuffs.

This was wrong.

The lack of respect you had for your colleagues and bosses got you here. Fucking ‘the enemy’. It felt so good to decide on your own, to betray them. It was like Javier took a lighter and ignited every flame inside of you again.

He pleased parts of you that he wasn’t aware of, and you couldn’t be bothered to let it end so soon. Not when rebellion tasted so sweet and fucked you so good.

Javier noticed you biting your lip again to quiet yourself — yet another habit you picked up on from previous partners — and hated it. He loved having vocal partners, even if words weren’t being said. He felt a little insecure, wondering if he wasn’t doing a good job, but your trembling body told him otherwise.

“Com’ere,” he said, lifting your upper half from the seat. His clad chest pressed against your back with the cool metal of the handcuffs hovering over your ass, and he kissed your jawbone before trailing a lick up your ear. “Don’t hold back for me, baby. Let me hear you,” he pleaded weakly.

Shivers trickled down your body, and you shuddered at the feeling. He smelled of expensive cigarettes, a light layer of musky cologne, and sweat. His scent was so intoxicating and made you even more needy for his touch. His calloused hands grazing over your ass beneath your pajamas tickled your skin and made you exhale loudly.

You felt his hand snake between your bodies before he lined his dick up with your entrance. He pushed it in at an achingly slow pace, making you whine and pout.

“That’s it, that’s my good girl,” he said in a way that sounded like he was laughing at you. His hand palmed your hip as he began thrusting inside you, filling you up nicely each time. “That feel good?”

You nodded and held your breath, making him punish you by reaching around your hip to land firm a smack against your clit. You yelped and flinched, yet found the pain to be a turn-on.

“Yes,” you said, not wanting to be scolded by him any further. “Yes! It feels good.”

He chuckled wryly and began pounding into you at a relentless speed. His thighs slapped against yours, and his grip on your hip tightened.

You let out noises you didn’t even know you could make. Squeaks, yelps, falsettos — all this for Javier, and oh my God, did it bring him close to the edge again.

He wanted you to feel him, touch him. No. He needed you to. He needed your hands to undress him. To tug at his hair and claw at his back. He needed you to hold his face in your soft and clammy palms. He wanted to watch your pretty fingers work patterns on your clit while he bent your legs to your head and fucked into your stomach.

Then, suddenly he began uncuffing your wrists. You were thankful for the relief but tried to contain your excitement. He held the handcuffs in front of your face, then whispered, “You misbehave, and they go right back on. You understand?”

You nodded, shouting out, “Yes,” before gripping his hand on your hips as he still pounded your squelching pussy.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he began hitting your favorite spot at a new angle, fulfilling your need for pleasure in the deepest parts of your heart.

He moved his hand to grip your jaw and pulled your head back so your forehead pressed against his chin. Your back was in discomfort from the arched position, but his cock made up for it.

“Look at you…” He grunted. Your mouth was agape, and your eyes were clenched shut as your raspy moans filled his ears. “So fucking helpless,” he whispered, leaving soft pecks against your forehead. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby girl. Oh.”

You cried out his name as he continued to speak sweet nothings to you. Your nails clawed at his hand at the rise of tension building inside of your stomach.

“You treat me so well, Javier,” you breathlessly spoke. “That feels so good.”

“Yeah?” He kept his momentum up as best he could when he felt your walls flutter around his shaft. It made his head feel dizzy, and his cock ached from wanting to release inside you.

The pressure began to release itself, and you weren’t sure how much longer it’d be before you came. “Can I—fuck! Can I cum? Can I please cum?”

His plump lips neared your ear as he said, “Yes, yes, yes, you can cum for me, pretty girl. You’re such a good girl for me.”

You screamed embarrassingly loud as your pussy flexed and contracted against him at his words, amplifying the orgasm peacocking throughout your body. He released your neck and ran his hands over your shoulder blades as you bent over and fucked him back to ride out your orgasm.

He looked down where you two were connected and saw a thick, white ring of cum wrapped around the base of his cock. He listened to your lowering volume carefully, waiting until you were finished as he didn’t want to overwhelm you.

At least not yet.

“Good…” He paused to land a firm smack on your ass cheek. “…Girl.” Another smack.

You flinched both times, making you both lazily giggle. He nibbled at your earlobe and kissed your neck before directing you to lie down.

You made sure to slouch down a little so that your back was against the seat and your legs up in the air; he rid you of your panties before cupping the back of your knees. He kept your legs pushed back and spread wide open for him as he slowly dipped his cock inside you without assistance.

You watched in awe as he stretched you out again, humming when he filled you and yelping when he pulled out. You laughed when he repeated the action a few times: fill you up, leave you empty…

He loved watching your muscles twitch due to his movements, such as your clit throbbing and your entrance clinging to him.

Finally, he went as deep as he could reach and watched the peak of your belly rise a little. He looked into your eyes and gave you a reassuring smile.

“You okay?” He asked quickly.

“Yeah,” you assured, “that feels good.”

His smile turned to a smirk, and he rocked his hips slowly. “Yeah?” He laughed.

You reached out to hold his face in your hands while biting your lip. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes. He allowed himself to fall into the euphoric feeling of you.

His mind wanted to remember how all this felt: your walls were so warm with soft edges, but your hands were so smooth against the grain of his beard. Your moans were intoxicating and addictive.

It was all he wanted to hear at this point in time. Who you were before didn’t matter anymore. Fuck no. You were Javier’s newly founded favorite priority, and he’d do anything to feel this good with you again.

He felt he was also rebelling against his morals and nature. How could he resist you, though? Standing there in your cute little nightgown and fresh lipstick on… So naughty and daunting yet so beautiful and obedient.

He reopened his lust-filled eyes and watched you moan and cry for him and for more. Your eyes were narrow, and your lip was swollen from where you were biting. You looked so pathetic beneath him, and it stroked his ego a little too much.

“Look at you.” He leaned his chest down to yours and gave you a sloppy kiss. “Look at you taking my cock like a good girl, hmm?” He laughed bullyingly and smacked the back of your thigh while he rose again. “Play with your pussy, baby girl,” he told you; you obeyed without a second thought and gave yourself the added pleasure. “That’s it, good job… Yeah, keep doing that. Oh-ho, you look so pretty like that.”

You rubbed your clit like you do any other time you touch yourself, but your nerves were already so overwhelmed that you went in a little more rough than usual.

You twisted, pinched, smacked, and rubbed relentlessly at your innocent clit, almost like you were punishing yourself. Javier saw how needy you were to come again and couldn’t hold out much longer.

He was preparing himself to ask you where you wanted him to finish, but he felt you gather some of your cum up from around him before you shoved your slicked fingers into your mouth while maintaining eye contact with him.

He couldn’t control nor stop it.

He was a whimpering and moaning pathetic mess above you.

He collapsed on top of you and finished his orgasm with lazy thrusts, feeling overstimulated sooner than he would have liked to admit.

He lifted his head shamefully and rolled his eyes when he saw your arrogant ass smile.

“Shut up,” he said though you hadn’t said anything. He felt guilty for not giving you a second orgasm, but you were already reaching for your panties and slipping them back on. He sat beside you and tucked his faltering erection in his jeans before zipping them up halfway.

“Gonna keep you inside of me as long as possible,” you whispered seductively in his ear after he lit his cigarette. He rolled his eyes more playfully this time and simpered bashfully. “You still gonna arrest me, Javier?” You chirped after facing him and sitting on your knees.

He breathed out the smoke from his lungs and looked at you while rubbing your half-exposed thigh. “I thought everybody said you were a good girl?”

You grinned, a blush spreading rapidly over your cheekbones. You responded to him by subtly nodding.

“Come ‘ere.” You two shared a kiss that was full of post-sex love and excitement. “If I have to put these handcuffs on you again, I won't be so nice."

[eveandtheturtles]

Hi! I saw that request are open, would it be okay to request Bayverse Raph with a reader he has a deep crush on, being insecure about their body? Thank you so much, I hope you have a good day!

Here you go! Hope you enjoy this Nonnie. I wasn't sure if it was supposed to be a scenario or drabble lol. So I went with this.

Requests are open!

@m1dnyt3-w0lf @scholastic-dragon @madammuffins @turtle-babe83 @leosgirl82 @thelaundrybitch @dilucsflame33 @pheradream-15 @sharpwindow

"You guys know that Donnie gonna win this right?" You sipped your drink watching Mikey holding a game of Twister over his head.

It was game night with April, Casey and you joining the brothers for some shennanigans. You weren't exactly sure how Twister got selected though.

"I do have a superior physique for this, yes," Donnie agreed pushing his glasses up with his knuckle.

"Not if I steal his glasses , he won't," Mikey retorted sticking his tongue out at his tallest brother.

"You should play with us," April suggested.

"Nah, thanks, I'm good." You shake your head. The thought of getting in there with everyone made you deeply uncomfortable. "Plus Leo and Raph aren't playing either."

"That's because Leo's got stick up his butt and Raph ain't as nimble as I am," Mikey leaned in next to you, wiggling his brow ridges.

You snorted and pushed his face away. "I don't think you need a doughball like me in there then," you joked.

A loud sound of glass breaking got everyone's attention.

"Sorry, slippery hands," Raph replied, badly hiding the death glare he briefly send Mikey's way.

"Are you alright?" You asked, immediately getting off of your bar stool and joining him to help clean up.

"It's fine," he grumbled getting broom and a dustpan.

"Let me help," you offered. At the same time you reached your hand and took the duspan out of his hand, brushing your palm over his fingers.

Raph froze a little. "You don't have to, I've got it."

"I know, but it will be faster with help!" You replied cheerfully.

"You should join the others," he told you as he started sweeping the glass shards. Gosh that thing really broke almost to dust.

"Nah, I think they have full house without me there," you brushed that off with a smile. Looking over your arm you saw Mikey dragging Leo to be the one to spin the colour wheel.

Truth was everyone there was just so... fit and attractive, especially April. Meanwhile you... you were just not. With your body rolls, stretchmarks and body hair growing where , according to magazines, it shouldn't. Yeah, it's best to stay out of it.

The red clad turtle humphed something under his breath as he finished sweeping. You threw out the glass. He stomped away irritated for some reason, leaving you a little confused.

You looked at the party going on. Casey was the first to fail. You followed after Raph.

You found him in the gym, angrily starting to pick up the dumbbells.

"Hey, uh..." You hovered by the entrance. "Did I make you angry somehow?"

He paused.

"You've been a bit weird the past couple days and..." You almost jumped out of your skin when he tossed the weights away.

He huffed, inhaling through his nose loudly, then exhale. His jaw was moving as he was clearly working something out. He started to pace.

"Raph?"

"You're being stupid!" He suddenly fired.

"What?"

"You're being stupid," he repeated, "and it's pissing me off! Cause I know what you're doing!"

"What am I doing?" You were getting annoyed and ready to fight him.

"You're thinking!"

"Excuse me?!" Your voice raised.

"No, shit, what I mean is- you- you keep thinking those thoughts! That you're ugly or something," he tried to explain. "That's bullshit you know? You're- you're gorgeous and strong! And- and pretty and you smile so wide and you give best hugs and you don't make me feel like a freak..." He paused staring right at you. "And I want to beat up every single person who made you hate yourself."

Tears swelled in your eyes, so your tried blinking quickly. That took you so completely off guard.

"You are funny and-," he suddenly was in front of you. "I think I might like you." He said that last part quietly. He raised his hand up to your cheek but then quickly dropped it and cleared his throat. "Anyway-"

You cut him off, hugging him tightly. "Thank you."

His arms closed around you tightly. "Yeah, don't mention it."

"Hey, Raphie?" You said after a moment.

"Myeah?"

"I like you too..."

[alldevilsarehere90]

hiii just saw your prompt list, would love some fluff for daryl with 19 and 13 xx

Title: Good enough

Pairing: Daryl x fem reader

Summary: A confrontation in the woods, after you make a almost fatal mistake on a run, doesn’t have the outcome you were expecting.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: mentions of walkers, descriptions of disposing of walkers

A/N: Thank you so much for sending me this request, I'm so grateful. Prompts: "Are you always this infuriating?" and "I'll kiss that smile right off your face, just say when." This one got a little angsty, but i kept the ending fluffy. Please enjoy!

This was the third time you'd been out this week, the third time trying to find medical supplies for everyone staying at the prison and meaning, the third time being outside the walls with Daryl.

While the two of you worked incredibly well as a team; being two of the best fighters in your group, your personalities however, seem to clash more and more frequently nowadays. 

With the increased runs meant increased awkward silences, snide comments followed by harsh jabs. 

If you were honest, you didn't know why he angered you so much but something about him really rubbed you up the wrong way but no matter how much time you spent together you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. Equally you had no idea what you’d done to annoy Daryl, your mere presence seemed to irritate him in ways that you could only describe as irrational.

“We’re losing light, we should camp here?” His voice rasped into the silence, pulling you out of your manic thoughts, that were overcoming you more than you’d care to admit.

Glancing around the wooded area, you noted you had a lot of cover, it was as good a place as any but the idea of being this out in the open had your heart spiking. It had been a while since you had slept outside at night without the prison walls and fences surrounding you. You hadn’t expected to get used to that so quickly and yet here you are, panicking about sleeping in the woods, something you had all done more than enough of. You felt pathetic and irritated at yourself, so naturally you aimed that at the closest person to you, which more often than not was him.

“Here? Really?” your arms folded across your chest as you leaned your weight more on one leg and your hip jutting out with attitude, you knew he hated it and yet you couldn't stop yourself.

“Wha’s wrong with it?” He growled, starting on the defensive already. 

“You don’t even want to try and find somewhere…sheltered?”

He stared at you, face unwavering and emotionless. “Na.” And with that he put down his backpack and began setting up camp.

Sucking in a deep breath, willing yourself not to throw a rock at the back of his head, you grumbled, “Fine.” joining him by pulling out your sleeping bag and unravelling it more aggressively than was necessary. 

You helped with the tent as much as you could without feeling like you were a hindrance to him, attempting to ignore his side eye and impatient grunts and once everything was set up, night had truly arrived. 

The darkness swallowed your landscape into a gaping black abyss. You could no longer see most of the surrounding tree’s and the thick black beyond them was suffocating. Possible eyes hiding in those shadows made your chest feel tight and put your nerves on edge.

Daryl started a small fire and with the small amount of light and warmth it brang it eased your fear somewhat, even with it maybe enticing nearby walkers it was a risk you were willing to take. It was not the dead monsters that had fear churning your stomach, it was the living ones.

The silence was as thick as the darkness, that was until Daryl said, “Yer wanna take first watch or yer want me to?”

You didn’t like the idea of either, you knew sleep would elude you but you were worried sitting and staring into the night your mind would play tricks on you, only increasing your fear. And fear made people stupid. You needed to get your head in the game, for your own sake and Daryl’s. A mistake out here could cost you both dearly.

“I’ll do the second shift if you don’t mind.”

He nodded, eyeing you warily. “A’ight.” When he didn’t look away, you shifted uncomfortably on the ground, a twig snapping underneath you making you jump. 

“Listen, what happened back there–”

“We don’t need to do this.” You cut him off, your face flushing from the memory of your earlier raid in the store. Proving your point that a mistake can cost you dearly and today, you not checking thoroughly, you almost paid the price.

He continued staring at you. “I think you should stay home on the next run.”

Instant fury and embarrassment riled up in your chest, burning as it rose, your skin feeling hot all the way up your throat to your hairline. “What?”

“I’ll take Glenn, s’fine. Yer clearly need a break.” he spoke so casually, picking food out of his teeth with a pocket knife.

Your hands shook at your sides, trying to keep some semblance of control you clenched them into fists. “I’m fine, I don’t need a break.” you spoke slowly through gritted teeth.

“Ya do. It ain’t me that almost got bit by a walker today.” He shot at you, his voice low, words suddenly so full of anger, you almost reeled back before your hackles raised in retaliation. 

“That’s fucking life now Daryl, it’s almost everyday we have to deal with that shit, so don’t act like it’s not a regular occurance.” Your voice quivered from trying to contain your red hot outrage, threatening to erupt.

He scoffed, only infuriating you more, “I ain’t ever seen ya come that close to being one of ‘em, so don’t gimme tha shit. If I weren’t there, woulda been it for ya.”

Before you could even process the movement, your legs were lifting you and closing the distance between the two of you. Your fists still balled at your sides, knuckles white from your grip you were unable to release. He was immediately on his feet, eyes fixed on yours.

“Yes, Daryl, I’m aware of that. You’ve saved my life more times than I can count but let’s not forget, it goes both ways.”

“I ain’t ever been as stupid as you were today.”

You flinched, reeling, the sting of his words felt as real as if he had physically slapped you in the face. “Are you always this infuriating? What the fuck is your problem?”

“You dun get it, do ya? If somethin' happens to ya, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Your body froze at his sudden honesty, knowing how it sounded but refusing to let yourself believe that was the meaning behind those words. Your muscles relaxed slightly, confusion sating some of the anger that had your body trembling. “You aren’t responsible for me Daryl, no-one’s going to blame you if something happens to me.”

He rubbed his face with the palm of his hand, turning his back on you before spinning right back your way. “I dun give a shit bout what anyone thinks. What am I supposed to do if ya ain’t here no more?” he yelled, eyes still on you but now faltering in their confidence slightly.

You feel yourself gulp, trying to moisten the desert dry throat you have suddenly.

“What the fuck are you on about Daryl? You’d be fine, you don’t need me.” Your hands hung limply at your sides, all anger distinguished, now too distracted at the turn this fight seems to have taken.

“The hell I don’t.” His voice was quiet now as his eyes dropped to the ground, his face a slightly pinker shade than usual. Was he blushing?

You were silent, for the first time ever in a heated exchange with him and for once you had no idea how to respond. No comeback, no smart remark; nothing. You were completely taken aback. Not to mention the insanely loud pounding of your heart in your ears made it hard to concentrate. You wiped your hands on your jeans, realising how clammy they suddenly were.

“Forget it,” he storms off into the tent, leaving you standing alone with nothing but your wild thoughts and frozen limbs. That only lasts a minute before your irritation reared its ugly head again, your feet on autopilot following him in.

“Na-ah, you can’t leave it there.” you said pushing into the tent. "Tell me what the hell you mean."

"Na, nuthin’." He'd sat himself down on his sleeping bag, knees resting in the crooks of his arms.

“No, why the fuck do you care so much, when half the time you can’t stand being around me anyway.” you sat down opposite him, running a hand roughly through your hair, exhausted from today’s earlier events and now this.

He glanced up at you through his messy fringe. “I like being around yer.” he voice was just above a whisper, quite the difference to a few minutes ago. His mood swings were giving you whiplash.

“You could have fooled me.” you stare him down, trying to get a read on him. “Why do you act like you hate me most of the time?”

You watched as he chewed the inside of his mouth nervously, avoiding your eyes again and just shrugged.

You shook your head, “Daryl Dixon, that’s not good enough. I deserve an explanation.”

“That’s just it, yer deserve better, I ain’t good enough to feel the way I do about yer.” He growled.

Realisation hits you like a plank of wood right the face, but disbelief still clouded your judgement. You needed clarity. “And how do you feel, exactly?”

He stood abruptly and so did you in response, his calm mood now vanished. “Yer know how I feel!”

“Actually I don’t, Daryl. I'm good at many things but reading minds is not one of them.”

He turns his back on you, in the small space between you, shoulders slumped defeated. “I dun’ hate ya, never have. M’sorry you thought that.”

You wanted to reach out and touch his shoulder, comfort him, ease his troubled mind but your feet and arms were rooted to the spot, afraid if you moved then this entire conversation would cease to be real. You needed it to be real. You needed to hear what he had to say.

“I’m an idiot for feeling the way I do ‘bout yer, I know that. I’m not good enough for someone like yer. I’ve tried to stop, m’sorry,  I just can’t.”

Your heart felt broken, how can this man see himself this way. It didn’t make a damn bit of sense to you. And right now, in this moment, you realised exactly why he infuriated you so much. 

You had been doing the same thing he had; snapping, arguing every chance you got, disagreeing for the sake of it because you also didn’t feel like you deserved him.

“I don’t want you to stop.” You whispered.

His head slowly lifted, turning towards you, eyes guarded and yet more open than you’d ever seen them. His stare was still cautious, searching your gaze for something. You couldn’t help smiling shyly at him, biting your lower lip with your own nerves. 

He straightened up, steeling his arms by his side and said, “I’ll kiss that smile right off ya face, just say when.”

There was something so vulnerable about the way he said it; with a shaky confidence–that much was obvious–his fingers constantly moving against each other, still chewing the inside of his lip but his feet were planted firmly in front of you, unwavering, even though he probably felt like running as far away from you as he could.

A crack of a twig outside caught both your attention, heads snapping towards the sound. He pulled out his knife and edged towards the opening of the tent, arm across protectively in front of you, keeping you behind him. 

You both recognised the familiar groans of the dead, Daryl’s tense posture relaxed slightly as he stepped outside and lunged forward. You followed quickly behind him, hearing his knife slam into the skull of the closest walker, you lunged at one setting sights for him before it could turn to you, driving your knife into his head and watching his body slump to the floor by your feet. 

Another turned and came for you. Kicking it in the chest, watching it stumble back slamming into the ground before you were on top of it and slamming your knife into his forehead. 

The stench perspiring from them was putrid, a smell that has by now been ingrained in your memory. You blew a big breath out as an attempt to rid your nostrils of it as you stood up heading back towards Daryl who cleared the last two walkers.

He stood with his back to you, surveying the woods, listening in the darkness, the way he held his knife, ready for anything. You watched him and when you were sure there were no more walkers nearby, here he was, clothes covered in walker blood, hair stuck to his face and yet, never looked more perfect. 

You couldn't help the smile that stretched your mouth.

He turned to you and frowned when he saw your face, "yer ok?" 

"When." You replied. 

He frowned for a moment before realising exactly what you meant and what you wanted, he couldn’t look away from you as he took tentative steps in your direction. 

He sheathed his knife and you did the same, when he stopped in front of you, looking down, he hesitantly asked, "Yer sure?”

"When." You enunciated the word slowly, making the corner of his mouth pull up in a one sided smile. He raised a shaky hand to your face, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ears and you instinctively leant into the warmth of his touch as he brought both hands up to cup your face.

Your heart hammered wildly in your chest, forgetting everything, your fear, the walkers, the prison, everything. 

You'd never been this close to him before and you couldn't tear your gaze away from his piercing blue eyes, so scared and unsure, completely opposite to the tough exterior he portrays.

His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he slowly leaned in and met your mouth with his. 

A timid and gentle kiss that you soon melted into. 

Your legs felt weak beneath you, feeling as if you were floating away from this god forsaken world with nothing but him. 

Your hands found solace in his hair, grounding you, using it to pull him closer and deepen the kiss. 

His confidence grew then, exploring your mouth with his, an arm snaking around your waist and bringing you closer, body moulded to his.

You had no idea how long you stayed that way, tender caresses between you, but you knew it wasn't long enough. But you were both sucking in much needed air and grinning somewhat awkwardly at each other.

"So…" you started now your breathing had slowed to a normal pace. "What now?"

"We'll get some rest tonight and as soon as the sun comes up we'll head back with the supplies." He replied quietly.

You couldn't help the amused huff of breath that escaped you. Good to know his confession hadn’t made him any less infuriating.

"Wha?" He questioned, his cheeks darkening in the firelight.

"I meant, what now…for us?"

His eyes darted from you to the fire and back again, suddenly seeming so unsure, "what do you want?"

"I want you." You expressed bluntly. "No more games, no more pretending not to like each other. You and me."

His mouth twitched into a smile as he nodded and closed the small amount of distance between you, running his thumb over your bottom lip and lifting your face up to his with his knuckle under your chin.

"Then I'm yours."

[niragis-thot]

Lamb to the Slaughter

What if Niragi had been in the Seven of Hearts game?

Niragi X reader

Warnings: Rape, death, injury, this is definitely the most brutal I have ever written Niragi so if these themes are something that bothers you please do not read

It turned out that joining the Beach was the worst decision you had ever made. Not having to go to the games alone was the what drew you there, but once you had arrived you were pressured into playing the death games more often. If you didn’t then you would never get promoted high enough to have a chance at going home.

Now you were huddling up in a tree in the botanical gardens, holding your breath as if the rising and falling of your chest would be the thing that gave away your location. Not being seen was the only chance you had to survive. The only chance you had to get back to your old life. There was no way you would win a fight against him.

Under normal circumstances being around Niragi was something you avoided, but when he climbed into the drivers seat of the car that night you had breathed a sigh of relief. Having one of the militants in your group meant you were probably getting out alive. And he wasn’t just any Militant, he was one of the best. Your fear had temporarily melted away until the games rules had been given. There was only going to be one survivor, and only Niragi had a gun.

When you heard a gunshot, you knew the second lamb was dead. The noise made you jump, and you tried to reposition yourself on the branch. A twig snapped and leaves russled as you regained your balance. You cried at the thought that the noise might have given away your hiding space. There were only twelve minutes left in the game, you just had to stay hidden for that long. Why should you be the one to die? Out of everyone you knew at the beach, he was the one that deserved it. Everyone would be better off without him there. So why was he the one who made it back every night?

“Come out little wolf, the lambs just want to play,” from the sound of his voice you could tell he was getting closer to you.

Finally you heard the crunching of leaves below you and knew he was there. You clenched your eyes shut, trying to ignore the instinct to see where your pursuer was. If you looked into his eyes then the game would register that the roles had reversed. He would become the new wolf, and it would be game over for you.

“Don’t be stupid, if you don’t get down from the tree I can just shoot you.”

“If you shoot me then you’ll be stuck as a lamb when the game ends.”

You braced yourself for him to fire, but instead you heard him climbing the tree instead. You stood up on your branch and used the limb above you to balance. As he made it to where you were you tried to kick him, but you missed. You couldn’t see what you were doing or you would risk passing on the wolf role. As he climbed onto the same branch as you the only option you had left was to jump.

There was a sickening crack as you hit the ground. Your adrenaline was too high to feel just how bad the injury was until you tried to stand up and run. You immediately collapsed back down when your broken leg couldn’t support your weight. You tried to drag yourself along with your arms and one good leg, but he was on you.

You felt him straddling over you, and he rolled you onto your back. You tried to fight for your life, punching at him with your eyes closed. Then there was a sharp pain in the side of your head followed by a ringing in your ears. You knew it must be the rifle that he carried with him everywhere he went. “Open your eyes bitch.”

He grabbed you hair yanked back. “Open them now or you’ll regret it. With his free hand he placed a thumb on your eyelid and forced it to open.

“Player four is now the wolf.”

He then grabbed you and forced you over again, pushing your face into the dirt. This time he used his legs to pin your arms to your side. You felt a knife up against your throat, “don’t make me kill you. I only like lambs that fight back.”

He withdrew the knife and you heard ripping of fabric. Then you felt him tying his zebra print shirt around your face. You fought against it and bit his hand so hard you tasted blood, but he only laughed. “See what it does to me when you fight back.” He pressed himself into you back so you could feel how hard his cock was becoming.

The realization set in. You weren’t just about to die. Niragi was going to rape you up until your final moments.

“Why?” You cried out.

“The three of you were dead the moment we walked into this game. So it doesn’t really matter what happens to you up until then.”

You squirmed as he cut away your shorts and bikini with the knife. You tried to kick, but moving was making the throbbing pain in your leg get worse. As he rose up a little bit to take off his pants you tried to fight through the pain and crawl, but all the earned was more pain when he stabbed your arm. You cried knowing you had no way out.

Niragi positioned himself between your legs and thrust all the way into you. “You’re so tight,” he moaned. “It’s such a shame I won’t be able to rape you again later.” He held your arms down as he began to move faster. You could feel the tip of his cock move against your most sensitive places, and you hated how good it felt. His cock began to slide more easily as you became wet around him.

“See, this isn’t such a bad way to go. One last orgasm before you die.”

“No.” You screamed. “I don’t want this.”

The more you protested the harder he fucked you. Finally you lay your head down and went limp, trying to take all the enjoyment out for him. You tried to focus on the time. There were only six minutes left, then this all would be over and you would be dead.

Niragi reach a hand under you began to run a finger over your clit. Meanwhile he stayed deep inside as he thrust to ensure he kept hitting that perfect spot. You tried not to but your body responded automatically. Your breath hastened, your body twitched, and you felt the warmth growing in your lower body.

“You‘ll scream for me one way or another little lamb.”

You felt the pressure building while simultaneous longing for the release and wanting to tense up to prevent it. Once you were filled inside with nothing but white hot pleasure, he began to slam into you furiously. You bit your tongue to try not moan as every stroke took you higher.

Niragi expertly increased the pressure on your clit, and you felt the ecstasy spilling over you. Whimpers escaped through your gritted teeth. You pressed your hips back against him, in that moment you needed to take in more of him, needed to feel your body move against his. Then the shame set in after your climax passed.

You couldn’t see the smile on Niragi’s face as he realized what he had done to you. He grabbed your hips pulling you against him hard as he chased his own orgasm.

The last thing you felt was Niragi’s nails digging into to as he filled you up. The last thing you heard was his voice saying, “I really love these games.”

[thewinterwitcher]

[read on ao3] | [summary post] [next chapter]

The path up to the fortress was lined with flowers. 

I could see glimpses outside the curtains of the palanquin that carried me forward. People didn’t line the road, precisely, but they had stopped their work to watch us pass. 

Their faces weren’t close enough to see if they were laughing at me or not.  

Then there was the sound of boots on stone, and my attendants pulled me away from the curtain, fussing with my veil and jewelry. 

I was dressed in all the finery of a princess of Skelda: finely woven spiders’ silk draped around me; polished wooden and opal beads clacking together gently as I moved; the heavy perfume of a hundred flowers tucked into the intricate braids of my hair. It held me in place, the slightest movements like swimming through porridge with the weight pressing down. Sounds around me were just slightly muffled. Faces were too obscured to truly see. I was adrift. My punishment for failing to be the princess I was destined to live as was finally crashing down around me. 

I shouldn’t be here, I thought. I wished beyond anything that I could be living as Prince Ashley of Skelda, Star Nestled in the Night Sky, in my home, able to make my own choices. Instead, I was in this blasted dress, tens of thousands of paces from everyone I have ever known, about to be married off to the ruler of the country that everyone says wants to conquer our lands, slaughter our men, and enslave our women and children. 

Before I had been sent away, my mother had lectured me at length. I had knelt before her, hands flat under my knees as instructed. The pain cemented her words into my memory. 

“You won’t be able to play your stupid little game anymore, Alexandria. Goddess knows we’ve tried to control you, but those brutes should beat you into line now. And if you fail to please the barbarian king and he sends you back, I’ll slit your throat myself.”

Surely I would fail. I could see the disappointment on my father’s face as I walked out of the castle, the condemnation in my mother’s gaze as she watched me climb into the palanquin. The look in her eye as she stared me down, gleeful at the idea that she would finally be rid of me, one way or another. 

I was startled from my grim remembering by the gentle swaying motion I had felt for hours finally ceasing. We were slowly lowered to the ground. 

The women around me fluttered silently and began to disembark. No one said a word to me as they took my hands and pulled me to standing. My slippers rested on fine mosaics, and the hazy stone around me was bright and reflected the mid morning sun down onto us. I closed my eyes and felt the faint warmth on my face. 

Before I could truly begin to look around, I was again pulled forward. The enormous wooden doors of the keep slowly swung open, and incense wafted on the wind to me even through my veil. The attendant pulling me stopped before her feet crossed the threshold, and her hand moved from mine to my lower back, firmly guiding me in while she stayed outside the fortress. Her arm reached its full length, and I stopped, the tiles beneath my thin slippers oddly warm. 

The attendant’s footsteps pattered on the stone behind me, growing softer. The doors swung closed with a ‘clunk.’ Unceremoniously, I was alone in my new prison. 

“Princess Alexandria?” I jumped at the deep voice to my right. 

I grimaced under the veil at my accursed name, hoping my face was as obscured as the man speaking to me.  He was tall, much taller than I, dark-skinned and with the outline of someone wearing armor. 

Realizing my hesitation had let a moment pass, I nodded. 

“Welcome to the keep, your highness. My name is Leold. On this, the first of our meetings, let it be known that you may refer to me as ‘they’ or ‘them.’ I am here to escort you to the ceremony.”

I had been warned the Illurians had customs unlike those in Skelda, but I was not expecting to be unsure so soon. I had been barred from meeting any of the Illurians that came to the palace to negotiate, and my mother had mentioned “uncouth” members of the delegates had been sent away soon after discussions had began. I could now hazard a guess as to why. 

The person in front of me, for I must assume my initial assessment was wrong, held out their hand. 

“Would you do me the honor of allowing me to guide you, your highness?”

Their voice was warm, and their head was tilted slightly. Maybe they were smiling. 

My voice had left me, so I nodded again and reached for them. 

We walked slowly down the hallway, no one passing or approaching us that I could see. The light changed colors around us as we passed ornately stained windows, and incense burners must have been lit every hundred paces.

“We are approaching a short flight of shallow stairs, your highness.” Leold slowed to walk beside me, allowing me to rest more of my weight on their hand if I needed. As much as I hated being treated as frail, I was touched by their noticing my obscured vision. 

Unfortunately, the stairs led to another large set of doors, behind which I could hear the clamoring of many voices. 

Leold paused, letting my hand fall. I jumped when their warm palm gently alighted on my elbow. 

“Forgive my familiarity, Princess, but no one yet knows we have arrived. We can pause a moment. I know you strode many lengths to reach us.” 

I couldn’t help but turn my face to my guide, outline such that they were. “I would appreciate that, kind steward.” My voice left my lips in a whisper. 

They stepped away from me, facing the doors. I closed my eyes and tilted my head back, praying to the goddess that abandoned me years ago in some vain hope that a great bolt of lightning would strike me down before I reached the wedding shrine. 

I exhaled, trying to release my fear with everything in my lungs. It was a good thought, at least. My hands still shook. 

My voice was steadier than before as I spoke. “I am ready now, steward. Your kindness is a cool balm on a warm day. My thanks to you.”

Leold opened the great set of doors with a heave, warm air heavy with the smells of roasted meat and sweet incense washing over me. The boisterous chatter inside slowed to a sussuruss of whispers, then silence as I stepped forward. 

There was a long, long woven mat rolled out from where I entered to the shrine at the far end of the fortress’ grandest hall. A great crowd of people gathered on either side, sitting where they were close to my path and standing further away. Still I could not see details, but great fires burned behind the shrine, and I could see silhouettes at my destination. 

I couldn’t delay. I began to walk forward. 

I was reminded of the flowers that had lined the path we arrived on as a few children, giggling, ran out in front of me. They picked the petals off of flowers they held and threw them in the air, letting them fall as they ran back out of the aisle. I heard the embarrassed whispers of parents in the crowds off to the sides. I was scared, still, almost crying, but something about the exuberance of the children and their joy reached my heart. 

Each step down the hall was as slow as a nightmare, my heart pounding and jewelry weighing me down. The further down the path I moved, the more the hum of the crowd behind me turned to cheering. 

It did not feel like mocking laughter, but it surely was celebratory. Skelda had bent the knee to Illura, and sent its first-born princess as tribute. 

Or rather, they had sent me. 

I was too close to the shrine and those who awaited me there already. The bag tied to the delicately braided belt around my waist was secure, and I tried to gracefully retrieve the scroll contained within. 

When I reached the foot of the stairs up to the shrine, I knelt, presenting the letter. Predictably, I had not been struck down, and now my voice could not fail me. 

“Great rulers of Illura, I, Princess Alexandria of Skelda, She Who Wanders as a Comet, come bearing word of our acceptance of your offer of peace. Let it be known that I pledge myself to the land of Illura, that my union to your king and finest warrior may seal this friendship for generations. Please accept this scroll bearing the seal of He Who is the Avatar of the Sun Above, His Highness King Saulor of Skelda.” 

There was silence, enough I had a moment to fear that I had offended the Illurians greatly. 

Before I could beg forgiveness, a figure separated from the group around the shrine and stepped down to me. He stood above me, but still I could not see much of him.  “My name is Eoin, and Illura claims me as her finest warrior. I am honored to meet you, Princess Alexandria. As this is the first of our meetings, please know you may call me ‘he’ or ‘him.’ On behalf of our collective, I accept this letter, and…” All I could make out was that he looked behind himself then back down to me. “And I accept your hand in marriage.” 

King Eoin, for this was the man I was intended to wed, took the scroll from me with one hand, then held out his other for myself. I took it, gingerly, and found it warming my nervous fingers through as he led me up the stairs. 

Illurian marriage ceremonies had not been condoned within the borders of Skelda, and even with their purple flags now raised above our castle, I had not yet been privy to the specifics of what I would be promising my new husband. I could only hope the words I had never wished to speak to another Skeldari would be binding enough here.

There was one other person besides myself and Eoin at the summit. The priest, or druid perhaps, was tall and willowy with a melodious yet scratchy voice. She spoke first: “Blessed family and friends, welcome all, and let it be known this union between humble Skelda and gracious Illura will be secured not just through the binding of Princess Alexandria and mighty Eoin of the Direbears, but also with the quest to support our new kinsfolk. The delegation from Skelda has arrived with much that will ease our troubles, and they will return with our gifts in kind.” 

I knew the tithes asked of our people were great. The most delicate and gossamer spider silks from hours of toil; the finest preserved fruits in colorful and uniquely shaped glass bottles; even roasted coffee beans, a delicacy even among my own people; all sent north to warmer climes with my entourage. I had been told the gifts sent back were riches from the Illuran ports, oils and spices and salts to grace meals I’d never eat. 

I hoped it would all turn to ash in their mouths.

As for myself, I came with very little beyond a few sets of plain dresses and underthings, my wedding dress and jewelry, and what few books I could save tucked into the bottom of my small bag. I was not to be rewarded with finery my family could keep for themselves, nor was I to be sent to my punishment with the “foul tools that had lead me astray,” according to my mother. In other words, my shirts and breeches, practice sword and leather arm guards, most of my books of sword forms and fae tales… All my connections to the person that may have become Prince Ashley had been left behind. 

More specifically, if the towering funnel of smoke I saw as the palanquin lumbered away had been what I thought, they had been burned in the garden outside what had used to be my rooms. 

The king let go of my hand, breaking me from my memories. He reached towards me, and my veil was pulled up and over my head. I blinked. 

In another life I might have been happy to court Eoin. He quite honestly was gorgeous. I was close enough to see now that there were streaks of grey through his dark, curling hair. His beard had been trimmed to a point along a broad jaw, and his nose followed a graceful curve. He was dressed plainly, but richly, in a simply cut, deep blue tunic and yellow breeches. The deep ‘V’ of his tunic dipped just low enough to allow some curls of dark chest hair peppered with more grey to be seen. He wasn’t much taller than I, solidly built, thick muscles evident in the lines of his neck and forearms. 

Despite his beauty, I could not be even slightly assured of my safety after all that I had been warned of when dismissed to Illura. 

To distract myself, I looked behind the druid, who I could now see was a woman with a willowy frame, grey hair streaked with black and white strands, draped in loose purple fabric. She waved her arms as she spoke, the words missing my fearful ears.

Behind her, I could see four great hearths at the shrine, each built of a different type of stone. The leftmost fire burned in a plain marble bowl atop a matching, smooth column. The next blaze was nestled in a crumbling pile of smoky grey rocks. The third was caught in shells and coral, and the final flame was in a swirling sculpture carved of sandstone. The fires were arranged in a half-circle around a well with a very large, very ornamental spool unwound, its rope extended all the way down to the bottom. 

“…hear the vows of the bride, that the faces of the sea may look upon her kindly.” 

While I had been distracted, the druid had finished her speech and turned to me.

I looked at her, then back at Eoin for only a moment. My gaze dropped to his chest.

For what I said next I could not meet his eyes.

“Great gods and rulers of Illura, forgive my blind ignorance of your customs. My words can only reflect the great light of our terrible sun above. I give to you my life as any Skeldari bride must. Let my actions and rare words be guided by your wisdom and passion. On this altar I forsake my ties to Skelda as its princess and pledge my sunless life to you alone. I seek only your mercy.”

There was a brief silence from those both in front of and behind me. My heartbeat pulsed through my temples, the sound of blood rushing louder than the water churning at the bottom of the well. 

The druid looked down her nose at me, eyebrows furrowed. 

In contrast, Eoin’s eyes were wide, frowning lips parted like he had been about to speak. He shook his head, then gave me a half-smile.

“Alexandria,” he began. His voice was deep and warm, almost softening the blow of that name. “I understand the deep gravity of our circumstances. You come to us bearing the weight of a great sacrifice, one we all must thank you for endlessly.” His eyes were a deep umber, catching the light of the fires. “I swear to you that I will do all in my power to help you find what home you desire among the Illuran people, with the family and friends I have.” 

Eoin turned to look back at the druid at the shrine for a moment, maybe for reassurance, then back to myself. There was a care in the way he considered me that I was not expecting to see from a strange man I had just met, many seasons older than I. “Our customs are quite different from that of the Skeldari, especially because all we have must be for all that falls under our banner. Every Illuran is kith before we meet each other. It is my hope our people will one day be the same to you as well.” He smiled fully, almost sheepishly. “That one day we may be friends.” 

I could only stare, a mirror to how he had looked at me after my own vows. It was blunt, but not in the way I expected. He did not seem eager to place his hands on me, to own me as any Skeldari man would leer at his bride. His words were not couched in carefully constructed layers of hidden meaning, but bare. Bare, and maybe even honest. 

He hoped that we might one day be friends? Did that mean and no more than that?

There was movement beside me. The druid reached forward, taking our hands and gently laying Eoin’s atop my own. She smiled at Eoin and myself in turn. “Now. May all the faces of the sea, the joy and sorrow they bring in turn, smile upon the two of you.” 

She turned away from us to the well behind her.  We watched her slowly turn the handle of the pulley, until the rope had wound back around the spool. Carefully, she scooped water from the bucket she’d retrieved, and turned back to us. “Let these waters bless you both, washing away the individuals you used to be, and welcoming Alexandria into our fold.”

I looked at our clasped hands as the druid poured the water over our fingers. It was frigid, and smelled of brine. The water dripped onto the stone below us, spattering my skirts and the tips of my thin slippers. I shivered. 

If only I could wash away what I wanted to leave behind about myself. 

“One in the water,” the druid intoned solemnly. 

Eoin grasped my hand, and repeated after her. I started when his voice was met with every other’s behind us, echoing in the vast chamber. “One in the water.”

A beat too late, I whispered the same. 

My fingers and toes felt numb, the cold seeping up my limbs. Before me, Eoin’s face wobbled and went watery. 

My knees were not yet so cold that they did not sting when I fell before my new husband and clasped my shaking hands together. There was a great susurrus of gasps behind me, and I winced. 

Pitching my voice down in the hopes it would not carry, I pleaded, “Great king of Illura, please hear the one request of your new bride. I know not if your kind words ring true, but I beg of you, please spare me the worst of your divine rage, that I may continue to serve you faithfully for many seasons.” My voice broke before I could say more, and I watched my skirts catch my tears. 

[duhragonball]

Dragon Ball GT 16

✨GT Stands for Giru’s Treason✨

We open with a genuinely cool shot of Pan at the controls, desperately trying to outmaneuver a fleet of enemy ships.  For a minute there, I was actually pleased, because it looked like she was actually learning how to fly the ship, and taking an active role in the mission.  I couldn’t remember this happening in the show, so I chalked it up to a training simulation that I must have forgotten about.  Still, it’s a pretty cool way to start an episode.  Trunks could turn on the lights and grade her progress, and then later on she could flex these skills in a real adventure and save the day.

  Then I noticed all the “enemy” ships look like Gil, and I remembered this stupid scene where they play video games and Pan can’t beat Gil no matter how many rematches he gives her.  Gil’s up 50-0, which... I mean, of course he’s undefeated, this game gives him a fleet of ships while Pan only has one.  Why don’t they switch controllers and see if she does better as the enemy fleet?

While this is going on, the ship flies by a particular planet, and Giru has an odd reaction to it.  He tells the others that this is his homeworld, and Pan pleads with Trunks to stop so Giru can visit it.  Trunks is worried about the Dragon Ball hunt, because they now know Dr. Mu is also searching for the Dragon Balls, and they have to stay ahead of the game.  But he ultimately caves in and agrees to a one-day visit. 

They land in a forested area outside of a city, but when Goku tries to eat an apple from one of the trees, he discovers its made of metal.  Is the whole tree metal?  There are some metallic trees near it, and some trees that are like half metal and half normal, but the apple looks normal, so I don’t know that the color means anything.

The city looks deserted until Goku calls out and then hundreds of robots emerge from the ground. They all look like Giru and address him by his serial number, and even congratulate him for being a hero, but Giru denies knowing anything about this.

Giru excuses himself and the GT crew stupidly think he’s going off to find a restaurant where they can eat.  Instead, he contacts General Rildo, whom we met in Episode 15.  Rildo works for Dr. Mu, and apparently Giru does as well, since Rildo congratulates him for luring the GT crew to this planet for capture.

Giru then leads the GT crew into an alley, where they are cornered by “Mega Cannon Sigma”, a team of Machine Mutant Warriors under Rildo’s command.  I like how the blue one cradles Giru like a baby. 

The big purple one-- Rivet, I think-- turns into a bunch of metal bearings, which fly down to the pavement like bullets, only to expand into long metal spikes that surround Goku and Trunks, then reform into Rivet’s body.  Then the Sigmas put them to sleep with knockout gas, because Dr. Mu wants them taken alive.

But Pan manages to avoid capture.  The Sigmas are prepared to go after her next, but Giru suggests that they hold off.  Sooner or later, he reasons, some security patrol will round up Pan.  Instead, the Sigma Force should return to Rildo with the prisoners they have, and get the Dragon Balls, since that’s what Dr. Mu was most interested in.  The Sigma Force agrees and they withdraw, leaving Pan to wonder what the hell just happened.

✨"Good” “Ideas”, Poorly Executed✨ 

So yeah, Giru was an evil Machine Mutant the whole time. 

This probably explains why Giru was the one to save the day in Episode 15.  The story structure demanded that Pan rise to the occasion, but the writers probably knew that this Giru arc was coming, and they knew it wouldn’t work because Pan never liked Giru in the first place, so his betrayal would carry less emotional weight.  So Giru helped everyone in Episode 15, only to betray them here.

And it almost works.  Giru seems conflicted about this, and when his countrymen call him a hero in front of the others, he acts ashamed.  Giru actually gets some dialogue that isn’t just “Danger”, “Pan”, and “Giru” repeated endlessly. 

So it’s an idea, at least.  But it’s a stupid idea.  Here’s why.

Okay, you’ve got Dr. Mu as the main antagonist of this part of the series.  Great.  He rules the Machine Mutants on Planet M2, and he was also running the Luud Cult, so he’s been a presence in the show as far back as Episode 8, when Bon Para stole the Dragon Ball on Planet Calvo. So why is Giru waiting until just now to betray the good guys? 

Remember, this whole episode hinges on Giru being in secret contact with General Rildo.  Rildo knew the GT ship was passing by, and he knew Giru had convinced them to alter course and land on the planet.  They had to be communicating with each other, so that Rildo could tell Giru what Dr. Mu wanted, and so that Giru could inform Rildo of his plan. 

So if Giru could contact M2 so easily, why didn’t he call home before this?  If he was truly loyal to their cause, shouldn’t he have contacted them as soon as he found out Dr. Mu was behind the Luudists? For that matter, shouldn’t Dr. Mu have noticed Giru working with the heroes on Planet Luud?  

I’m trying to be careful here, because I know there’s an episode coming up soon where Trunks reveals that he and Giru tricked the Machine Mutants into thinking Giru was on their side, but I can never remember if that deception started before or after the good guys arrived on the planet. I’m pretty sure it happened later, when Giru regrets his treachery and frees Trunks to turn against the villains.   I’m almost positive, because if I’m wrong, then that means Trunks and Giru were in cahoots from the start, and Trunks seems to be genuinely surprised by everything that happens here.

The point I’m getting at is that Giru’s been a functioning Dragon Radar since he first swallowed the original radar in Episode 5.  Once he found out Mu wants the Dragon Balls, he could have switched sides at any time and been hailed as a hero.   But he could have found out much sooner, simply by contacting his home planet and asking for instructions. 

What would help this idea out would be if Giru’s homeworld was kept separate from Dr. Mu and General Rildo.  That is, if Giru betrayed the gang to a different villainous leader, one familiar to Giru but not to the audience.  The Justice League cartoon did a good job with that in the episode “Starcrossed”.  Hawkgirl seemed loyal to the Justice League, but only because her true mission didn’t conflict with theirs, and when the Thanagarians arrived, no one knew anything about them. 

And it’s possible that Toei had originally planned for something like that with Giru.  A one-off story of Giru’s homecoming, which forces him to choose between his people and his new friends.  But they had to scrap a lot of episode plots once they decided to abandon the “Grand Tour” concept, and this might be how we ended up where we are.

  ✨Is This Episode Worse than “The Roaming Lake”?✨ 

At this point, it’s become a pretty standard complaint for me: Very little actually happens in any given episode.  Pan plays video games with Giru for like five minutes, and they spend at least that much time wandering around M2′s deserted streets wondering what’s going on.  The whole episode is devoted to building tension before the Sigma Force attacks, and then it’s over.  Giru’s betrayal is supposed to be the big twist, except they give it away in the title of the episode, and then Rildo pretty much spoils it well before it happens.

“The Roaming Lake” is a very simplistic story, and in many ways it’s too simplistic, but at least it doesn’t try to pretend its overly complicated.  Just blow up the dam and let us move on with our lives.

Also, at least Goku won a fight in that episode, even if his opponent was just a dam.  That dam has more charisma than the Sigma robots, who defeated Goku with almost zero effort.

Actually, wait, what was the point of Giru betraying Goku and the others?  He just led them into an ambush by the Sigma Force, but that could have been staged anywhere, even without Giru’s cooperation. 

✨Positivity Page✨

As much as I hate Giru, he’s pretty cute when a larger robot holds him like a baby.

✨The Blade Braxton Memorial Haiku*✨

When Pan’s game is more

Fun than the actual plot

You’ve really blown it.

[girlinastandstill]

It is so stupid of me to want a relationship this much and do fuck all about it.

Telling myself I should wait a little longer, putting up goals to push actually trying anything away "I'll do it after I can be confident about my appearence" Yeah? that's never going to happen the way things are now.

Like anyone will just come over, sweep me off my feet and kiss me in the cheek without me doing anything. That'd be nice wouldn't it?

Alas, I get nothing without putting the effort in, and God knows how bad I am at putting in an effort. "I was so good at threading water I never bothered to try to swim", and all of that.

I don't think putting 10 years worth of problems in a tumblr blog will solve them. I just hope this lifts any sort of weight from my shoulders.

This won't be organized. This won't be periodic. I'll come here whenever I have a breakdown again, which I hope isn't soon.

I put a wall around myself, and I didn't even realize. People I called friends soon faded into "acquaintances" and then at strangers, and after that, I couldn't get anyone in. I couldn't call people I met 'friends'. Once i don't have any classes with them anymore, that will be it. they will fade back like everyone else.

Of course, that's not to say I'm completely friendless. Some stayed. distant or not, uni or not, they are still here. But I don't feel like I can tell them things. Sure, I might talk about a game I played, a movie I watched, a song I listened to. But when it comes to something like this? It feels like I'm not allowed to.

It's not like I was told I can't. I probably placed that limitation on myself. Maybe they would listen. But no one else seems to share their pains, so I assume it's weird if I do it.

I'd much rather not know who is on the other side of my rants, though, and have them not know me either. You can't hurt me, push me away, but they can. And if I'm weird, they should.

And it's not like only relationships trouble me. Life isn't that gentle as to grant me only one thing to worry about. There's also my future, my career, uni, And that's not going well either.

Not like I'm failing. That degree is definetely going to be mine. But that means I'm out of uni, and by consequence, into the job market. The little experience I have with it tells me it's hell on earth. I'm not a genius. I'm not gifted. I need to put in actual effort to make myself stand out. and yet - can't get a single interview for an internship - an internship. No one wants me, even if it's serving coffee. Not a call back, not a single interview. just rejection emails. Can I be expected to make it when I'm not even allowed to take the first step?

There's also the issue of liking what I do. I don't. There are very few things in life I actually enjoy doing. I grow bored of them just as quickly as I take interest. It's like a curse. I'm never terrible at anything, just mediocre enough, but I never make any progress. I used to like martial arts, when I was a kid. That's gone. Movies. Gone. Books. Gone. Games. There's nothing I can just love doing. I've recently picked up visual novels. This past week, i read 6 of them. 6. Almost one for each day of the week. I loved them. Characters, stories, I really enjoyed them all the way through. But now, they're in the back of my mind. I can never experience them again. Those stories are over. And I have to move on like in those 10 hours of reading I didn't care more about those fictional characters more than anyone in my life. Amber, Marina, Miho, Asper, Juliet, Maddie, Abgail, People that were never real. And yet, there I was. So into them I could cry if anything bad happened.

I tell myself I just haven't met the right people yet. How long can that be true for?

[silentmemories]

My heart is heavy. Its weighing me down. You’ve made everyone around you make me think im this cold hearted monster. You’ve won, you won this game. You broke me down, you’ve made me feel like i’m not enough, you’ve ruined my confidence, and why? Because you couldn’t admit 3 years ago that all you wanted was to be friends with benefits. No you couldn’t admit that because it killed you to see me with anyone else, but yet the whole time she was there sending you nudes, playing with her pussy on camera for you while you’re at work. I’m so happy that I fought my fucking ass off for us to workout just to find out that I wasn’t even an option in the long game. 

You’ll never be honest with me, but I have so many questions that weight so heavy on my heart and mind. Do you truly regret our relationship? Do you still love me and you are using this new girl as a rebound? Or did you never really truly love me, you just loved my body and loved having me as yours but continued to entertain these other hoes. I feel so stupid. I feel like the dumbest bitch on earth and I know that makes you feel so god damn proud. 

I’m losing my mind because you out of nowhere have a new girlfriend. How did this happen? How did you switch up so fast like that? You have sex with her once and you love her? Is it really true? Or are you playing her to make sure you still have that crutch while melissa is gone? 

I really want to pick your brain apart to know what the fuck is going on. But I can’t. You won’t let me ask you any simple question anymore without immediately attacking me saying some absurd comment that is just trying to pull me out of my character. And every time you tell me anything it feels like just another fabrication in your long list in order to make me feel better about whatever is going on. I wish you could be honest with me. I’ve been nothing but honest with you and thats why you are able to make me look like such a monster, because every mistake I made I owned up to and you used them against me.  Im losing my mind in the shadows of your lies. I just want truth and I know I will never get it and that eats away at me even more. I cannot wait to escape this suffocating relationship where I had no real freedom. I cannot wait to express myself in any way I want and not have someone tell me I’m cheating or lying whenever I try to. I cannot wait to be able to go out with friends and not have someone blowing up my phone calling me a whore because I’m not answering. I cannot wait to live near my family and be able to spend time with them and not have someone constantly texting me and then crying about how im ifnoring them and quesitoning how many of my “hoes” i got in contact with while I wasn’t answering. 

I wish i wouldn’t have been so dumb. I wish I would’ve stayed away from your fast ass when the first night you met me you grabbed my ass and kissed me in the parking lot of meijer after my 2nd shift at the westnedge store. As soon as you told me you lived with your “best friend” that you cheated on your ex wife with and had a baby with, I should’ve ran. When your divorce was finalized and you ran off and fucked around with one of your ex wifes best friends and brought home herpes & chlamydia for me, I should’ve ran. When i paid for an entire trip for us to celebrate my birthday, every cent came out of my pocket, you were exchanging naked pictures with your “best friend”, I should have fucking RAN. There were so many moments in between with the sneaky texts and the sneaky calls and the way you would speak to me, the way you and her interact with each other (wildly inappropriate), even after seeing what she had as her phone contact photo for you. I stayed, and yet I am still coming out as the monster. I am baffled and amazed at the way your brain has twisted this. I don’t know if it was your upbringing or if Vicci truly fucked you up, but you need some god damn help or you’re going to end up hurting yourself or someone else. 

I’m just hurt... I don’t know what to do or say anymore. 

[chimielie]

bitter ain't sweet

summary: Suna x F!Reader. a college fairytale in reverse

word count: 2.8k

cw: angst to fluff, [kuroo voice] stupid young people, hypothetical discussion of throwing up towards the end

a/n: one night i was so so miserable bc i just know suna is out there falling stupid in love with girls who don’t care about him and this was born

"Aren't you tired?" You say, amused, as a twenty-one-year-old Suna Rintarō stretches out his legs over the arm of your couch, his head resting in your lap.

"Nah," he shakes his head, his eyelids dropping shut and his muscles going limp when you thread your fingers through his hair. "I'm staying on that grind."

"Oh, aren’t you," you snort. He reaches up to flick your face, eyes still closed, and settles for waving his hand vaguely around in search of your face about five inches below it.

"Vulgar," he says. "Who's teaching you these things?"

"You."

"Ah. You shouldn't let me do that."

"Do what?" You cease petting his hair, and he wriggles petulantly upward, searching for your hand. You give in too easily and resume.

"Corrupt you," he says, all too happily. "Anyway, like I was saying, I can't decide where I should take her out Saturday."

With the subject change, you let your mind wander away from the man at hand. You pull your hands away from him, the only contact between the two of you the weight of his head in your lap, pressing against your stomach. He doesn't notice, too engrossed in parsing out his latest romantic encounter with his latest romantic interest.

You sigh and tip your head back as far as it can go. Oh, Rintarō. You've been long since corrupted, ruined for all men by one who falls asleep in his classes and passes them all anyway, who has a beautiful singing voice only so long as he's wasted, who takes you to movies and taught you to wait in the bathroom to watch a second one for free, whose glowing eyes see everything but you.

Rintarō doesn't have a type.

Sometimes she's tall, sometimes she's short, always she's enamored by him. He never really gets to know her that well before it's over.

He likes—adventure, likes flirting and fucking around, likes it when she does something he doesn't expect. Eventually, though, something has to shift. It can't be late-night driving and hot tub hickeys forever, as much as he wishes he could stay steady in the stream of change.

Sometimes he ends things. Sometimes she does. He's never really that cut up about it.

And there's always another girl.

Rintarō doesn’t want to break hearts; he’s not playing the dating field like it’s some kind of game. It’s just never... quite... right.

You’re right (and he knows you know it). He’s tired. He wants a cinematic story with a happy ending, in his own way, without frills or saccharine sweetness. He wants someone he won’t get tired of, someone who doesn’t idolize him, someone to love. Hands cold and blood pooling in his cheeks, Rintarō just wants.

You’re Rintarō’s best friend, one of his favorite people in the world; you make everything easy. Of course he’s sitting next to you, shoving popcorn in his mouth and staring at his television, when he figures it out.

“Your friend,” he says suddenly, interrupting the sopping, dramatic monologue of the man onscreen. “Your, ah, roommate.”

“What?” You glare at him, the tension of the scene broken.

“Is she single?”

Your expression shutters off. He’s never not been able to read your thoughts on your face. It’s disturbing. He’s not sure what he did wrong—his words, interrupting the movie, discussing her—but he wants to take it back.

“Yeah, she is.” You cock your head, still inviting an explanation. Now that he’s started, he can’t stop his momentum.

“Would you—do you think, uh—”

“She does hate you,” you say, dry to his ears. She hates him because she’s the one who checks in on you while he’s out, who watches you insist over and over again that you’re over him, who lets you lean on her when it all inevitably happens again. To Rintarō’s knowledge, she’s just a little ornery, someone who will fight for what she wants, someone whose next move he’ll never guess. “That might be a problem.”

“I’ll figure it out,” he waves it away, infuriatingly confident in his own subtle magnetism. “But only with your permission.”

“My permission.” You echo, sounding faraway. He’s handing you a big, round, waxy red apple here; watching your turmoil with serpentine eyes. Rintarō leans forward, takes one of your hands between both of his. The movie is long forgotten.

“Yeah. You’re my friend, and she’s yours. I don’t want to move forward with anything if it’ll make things weird between us.”

“Why would it make things weird between us?” You say, and he doesn’t have an answer, just a gut feeling. “Do what you want, Rintarō, don’t bother with what I think.”

“But I care what you think,” he says. “You’re right. Fucking around isn’t enough for me, anymore, you were right when you said I go after women I don’t really like. But I like her,” he says your name, and your heart feels overworked and suddenly you’re just exhausted. “I really do. I think I always have.”

You jerk your hand out of his. He jumps at the moment, at the outright fury that breaks over your face. His hands feel cold, again.

“If you care so much about what I think, then don’t,” you say, more bitterly than you want to. “Don’t ask her out, don’t try to convince her she’s the one. Don’t jump ship from dating women you don’t like to dating women who don’t like you.” You let out a broken laugh, and he’s not sure exactly where this is going but he’s sure it’s too late to salvage. “For the love of—do something good for yourself, Rintarō.”

You storm out, the blood rushing in your ears deafening his pleading, his desperate questions. He catches your wrist, and you look back at him with something awful in your face. The line between love and hate is thin. Your last words hang in the air like thunder rolling behind your lightning, and the echo sounds a lot like stop being selfish, Rintarō.

The door catches before it shuts, and Rintarō can’t bring himself to close it, ‘cause maybe you’ll come back. He sits down next to the opening and scrubs his hands over his face, through the strands of his hair. His head hurts. He feels sick. He fucked up.

You’re Rintarō’s literal girl next door, or you were, his freshman year in the dorms. Your assigned roommate was never home, and his was always kicking him out. He found a comfortable spot as the shade to your sunny disposition, spending countless afternoons dragging you outside to laze around on the green or pulling you out of the library to stock up on more poisonous energy drinks.

He’s selfish; he’s not stupid.

He's spent too many days almost lying across your dining table while you don an apron over your hoodie and shorts, whipping together incredible concoctions from a cookbook. He can't cook worth shit, but he loves to watch you do it, phone lifted in front of his face but eyes trained on you. He heckles you as you go. What do stiff peaks mean? That's dirty. I'm not eating this if the souffle comes out flat. How many syllables are in ratatouille, honey?

Every time, he says it's his favorite food in the world, right around the time you slide him a portion, because he knows he's an ass and he's sorry about it. And because you're amazing.

He knew that, too.

You have standards too high to ever want anything to do with him like that, know him too well to imagine that he could treat you like you deserve to be. At his bravest moments, he imagines that if he could prove to himself he could do it with another girl, one not as important as you, he could convince himself he could touch you without breaking.

At his most cowardly, he asks for favors you can't give.

Your laugh, that raw sound filled with anything but mirth, plays over in his mind and it feels like it’s sanding him down, tearing him into pieces. If Rintarō has nothing else going for him, he can make you laugh; he can bring the light into his sunshine girl’s face. It feels like he’s ruined that, too.

The ring of your doorbell is like a death knell. Once upon a time, when boys like Rintarō fucked over princesses like you, they would have been executed for their dishonor. Maybe he’ll go back to Hyōgo and ask Kita to bring back the old days.

There’s a scuffle behind the door; muffled words that he can’t understand.

“You shouldn’t!” He can hear your roommate say, frustrated and protective, and it hurts to think that she’s protecting you from him. He curls in on himself (further), wonders what he looks like in the fish-eye view of your door’s peephole. The stems of the flowers he’s holding crinkle in his grip.

Shit shit fuck you fucker, he thinks at himself.

The door opens a crack, and your eyes appear above the lock.

“What do you want,” calls your roommate, and his view of you disappears.

“Can you let me—” the sentence is aborted, but Rintarō can imagine your combination of hand gestures and mouthed words.

“Okay, okay,” she calls, and he’s more than a little relieved that she seems to be getting further away. He almost feels bad for it, too.

Mostly, though, all of his energy is focused towards feeling guilty about you. You pop the door open, leaning on it, and there’s not a smile on your face when you face him, just shadowy eyes and chapped lips.

“Hi,” you open the door for him, flannel pajama pants dragging on the floor, and he watches, eyes wide. “You wanna come in?”

He passes you the flowers, stammers through an explanation for them that doesn’t make any sense to his brain no matter how many words he adds on. You don’t say a word to help him, don’t complete his sentence to parse out his meaning, nothing. You just let him flail.

Eventually, he trails into defeated silence, and wishes he could be grateful that his own voice is no longer grating on his ears. It’s embittered by the way you take the flowers, expression unchanging, and turn, pretending to fluff them up and rearrange them.

He stares at your back, left open and vulnerable. You don’t have a reason to guard against him, he guesses, he left all his swords behind when he stabbed them through you today.

“I’m sorry,” you say, and glance halfway over your shoulder. Rintarō freezes.

“You should be free to date who you want. Or ask, anyway. Especially if that’s how you—how you feel.”

“No,” he says, and his tongue feels thick and gluey and stupid.

“Yes,” you argue. “I’m sorry I reacted—um. I let my f-f—” You can’t seem to finish the sentence, a long-held horror icing over your veins. Years of pining, collapsed into this one awful moment.

You drop your chin to your chest, stare down at the flowers. There’s an aphid crawling in one of the roses, descending into the heart of the bloom.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and it’s like a full-body sigh to finally say it right. You turn, and he’s right there, and it’s so easy to lean your head on his chest and let his heartbeat calm you.

Except his pulse is hammering in allegro, faster even than yours, and you have to wonder why unflappable Rintarō seems on the verge of panic.

“I’m sorry,” he says again. “I lied.”

“About what?” You lift your head, and his eyes are softer than you’ve ever seen them, his mouth barely turned down.

“Not your roommate,” he mutters, and you nudge him.

“Can’t hear you.”

“I—shut up, this is hard, okay?” His voice has no anger in it, though, and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your face, even as you brace yourself for god-knows-what. “I made a lot of mistakes. That were especially. Unfair. To you.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you say plainly. “Please, what the fuck?”

“I’m in love with you,” he says it like a curse, scrubbing his hands through his hair, eyes squeezed shut. You stand up, ramrod-straight, and he sways a little, practically unnoticeably, at the loss of your touch.

“You are not.” Your voice is firm but your eyes are watering. You want him out, you want him to go away. You want him not to use this, your most precious secret, against you. You want him to be better.

“I am,” he says. “And I’m sorry.”

“That is,” you struggle for words, and that distorted laugh escapes you again. “That is cruel. That’s not funny.”

“I’m serious,” Rintarō says, desperate, hands out and palms up. “I love you."

"I'm going to be sick," and you might be joking, but your hands are clutched over your stomach like maybe you mean it.

"Please don't," he says, and the familiar warmth of his touch is a balm on your clammy cheek. "I made mistakes because I was scared. That you were too good for me, that I'd fuck you over, just like I ended up doing. You're right, I think, I knew I was dating girls I didn't like or who didn't like me and I thought I couldn't face that with you. I know it sounds stupid, really stupid, but it's true, Y/N, please."

Wiry strands of Rintarō's hair are sticking to his forehead, his lashes clumping together, his mouth wobbling. You hate how many minutes you've spent staring at that mouth, the shape memorized through quick, platonic swipes of your thumb across it to clear smeared crumbs, through taking advantage of his love of side-eyeing other people and leaving you free to stare. That's your undoing—the stupid tremble of his barely pink, bitten lips, the ones you've always wanted to kiss until all of his snarky nonchalance has melted right off him, the way you know Rintarō couldn't fake that expression if he wanted to.

"And my roommate?"

"I'm an asshole," he says, with none of the usual wryness he uses when he's being charmingly self-aware. "I couldn't face my feelings for the only girl I couldn't have so I asked for the closest thing to it."

Maybe he could have survived like that, chasing a forever that could have existed if he weren't heartstoppingly, achingly, crazy in love with you. He could have watched from a safe distance as you fell in love with someone else, could have distracted himself while the girl he wanted found someone who was better for her.

"You could have me, though," you say, frustrated. He shakes his head.

"Nobody should have you. Nobody deserves you. Should just feel lucky you let them hang out with you." You huff out a laugh, but he sounds dead serious. You remember, early on, you'd gone on a couple dates, and Rintarō had always been there, sprawled over your couch, yawning, tawny eyes narrowed. Don't drop your standards for these losers.

"You know this kind of thing doesn't foster trust," your hands cover his, and there's a hopeful glimmer in those eyes that makes his breath pick up. "Kind of an ominous start to a relationship."

"I'm not romantic." He's a little afraid of the effect the words will have, but he needs to be honest with you, with himself. Even when it's ugly. Example: "You threatened to puke on me when I told you I love you."

You turn your nose up in the air, joy leaking through your expression, and the rub of your thumb over the back of his hands feels like forgiveness. His teeth tug on his lower lip, exposing the scar where he'd once had a lip ring that had driven you into a fever for all the months he'd worn it. You know then: you have history with the fucking mouth he has on him, and you're not done with it. "It was deserved."

"The worst part is that I wouldn't mind." He'd just worry that it got in your hair, that you weren't feeling good. God, he loves you so much it's grossing him out. "Are we...okay?"

"We will be," you say, and kiss him, because you've been wanting to since he first hid in your room from the chaos of your floor's common area. And then you kiss him again because he's really good at it. And then one more time, to bite his lip and hear him pretend he didn't whine when you pulled away. "You shouldn't call yourself an asshole, you know. I don't like it when people shit talk the people I love."

"Mm, it was deserved," he grins. "But if you really want it—you should make me."

[randynova]

Poor Petal, she must have had a panic attack when she found out she was pregnant for the first time.

She was downright terrified.

She broke down crying, screaming into her pillow, refusing to let Doma hold or console her. Surprisingly, he left her alone, letting her deal with her emotions on her own.

The only words he left her was, "Oh, [Name], I'm so happy. Soon, we're going to be parents, my sweet pretty petal!"

[Name] just couldn't understand how this happened. She was careful, so diligent in taking the tea every night. She began racking her mind, trying to make sense of it all, and search for a possibility why this small mistake occurred.

Until she recalled two months prior, where Doma's insatiable hunger for his wife consumed him. Like an animal in heat, he forced himself on her, ignoring her pleas to stop, releasing his fertile seed deep into her womb. Over and over again, he made sure every night she was filled with his cum, having the sole mission to make her bear his children.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Doma had to travel southward for demon duties and he felt this was the perfect opportunity for you both to get closer. A whole week together, all alone while he was free from his duties, a chance to finally have some quality bonding time without his cult. It was a dream come true.

However, this place was in the middle of nowhere, hardly any villages, let alone stores, around. All the sources you used to protect yourself from Doma were gone, the foods and teas you consumed to prevent a pregnancy out of reach.

The only people around were fellow upper moons, who stayed far away from your husband, especially you.

Thus, you were forced to endure his doting behavior, forced to play his dangerous games, and forced to let him breed you.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

"Pretty petal. So pretty, so beautiful. You're taking me so well, hah," Doma laughs, snapping his hips harshly, thick balls slapping against your skin. You bounced with every thrust, mewling and whimpering, begging him to slow down. It only stirred him on to go faster. "No, no, no, this is the best way to ensure maximum success with fertilizing you. I have to make sure my seed is as deep as possible inside you, my petal!"

The aching between your legs grew, arching your back as an orgasm washes over you once again. Your juices release over his thick cock, eyes rolling to the back of your head as your velvet walls constrict around him. "Ah! Ah, D-Doma!"

"Mm, hngh! P-petal! Petal! Petal! " Doma whines out, biting his bottom lip, grinning like a madman as the sweet relief of climax fast approaches him. His thrusts turn sloppy and his hips stutter. Quickly, he pulls out and leaves you feeling empty for a few seconds. He grabs your legs, hooking his arms around your knees, and pushes your thighs to your chest, claws digging into your plush skin as he starts to hammer into you. "So-so good! Such a good girl! You'll be such a good mother, sweet petal! Just you wait! I'll make you a mommy, ok? Just- fuck!"

He releases long, thick ropes of cum, painting your womb white with his fertile seed once more. He thrusts weakly, head falling back as he gasps. "Mm, ah-ah, [N-Name]...!" You squeeze your eyes shut, looking to the side, swallowing bitterly as he fills you to the brim, cum leaking out as he slides in and out. It drips onto the bed, staining the pristine, red cotton sheets.

"Oh, petal, please don't look away. I want to see you," Doma croons, pulling out with a shaky breath and looking down at the mess between your legs with a grin. White painted the sheets below like a puddle. He pulls out with a groan. Seeing the way your pussy gushes out his cum, flexing around nothing, it makes him want to take you all over again. He slides two fingers up across your folds, gathering his seed, and pushing it back into your sopping hole with his fingertips. He hums whilsts you whine, rocking your hips at the weird sensation. "Such a pretty sight, you took me so well, petal. I'm so proud of you!"

He's met with silence. Though, it doesn't bother him as he already fulfilled his task for the night. After five long rounds, he believes its enough for the day and he'll repeat the process tomorrow. For now, both of you need rest, we'll, mainly you if you're going to stay awake during the whole ordeal.

You were in a daze as Doma cleaned both you and himself up, changing the sheets into soft clean ones, and covering your body with the blankets, tucking it in.

"Good night, my pretty wife," Doma whispers, taking his spot beside you, his arms slithering around your frame and pulling you close. His chest pressed against your nude back, his legs tangling in yours, and he buried his face in your hair, taking a deep breath of your sweet aroma. "I love you..."

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Immediately after coming back from your journey, Doma became busy, his schedule packed to the brim with orders from his master. It irritated him, saddened him even, that he would be apart from you for a while.

As much as he loved ravishing your body every night, he had to focus on completing every task with precise accuracy. He doesn't want to disappoint his master after all.

But before he left you alone the first night back, he replaced your assigned follower with a different one. One that reported back to him and carried out his orders, their loyalty to the demon overriding their morals to protect you.

He wasn't stupid. It didn't take long for him to figure out the tea you drank prevented you from becoming pregnant, a huge change to the tea he got to make you fertile. The news did upset him, but he hid the discovery and played along with your little antics. It made him try to come up with a solution, where he disguised the tea you drank to better fit his wishes.

Like an unsuspecting mouse, you walked right into the cat's claws.

Anyone who tried helping you was either eaten by Doma or killed by him in another manner. If the actions of a stupid, disloyal follower was keeping him away from his dream of having a family, the demon won't hesitate to get rid of them. They should know better.

Doma's dreams are his followers' orders.

If he says he dreamt of eating a hundred virgins, his followers should offer him the bountiful feast of meat from a hundred virgins.

If he says he dreamt of growing his cult, his followers should go out and recruit people to join them.

Now, if he says he dreams of a child with his wife, his followers should offer their help and make sure he gets his child.

By god, did they live up to his expectations for once. Everyone - from the ones who prepared your meals to the new members who brought you gifts - made sure every small action built up to the final wish of their leader's plan.

Every food and drink you consumed had been carefully chosen to help make you plump and help the baby grow. Every bath had been filled with excotic herbs to soothe your changing body. Every offering had slowly been gearing towards a human smaller than you. Yet, you never really paid attention to the small differences.

Doma noticed how tired you seem lately, how you complained to the follower assigned to you about the tenderness of your breast and the pain of your abdominal and pelvis area, and even how different you looked, almost glowing.

At first, he didn't put the pieces together. Surely all women were like this, right? Yet, that wasn't the case.

He found himself always wondering why your emotions were easily more unhinged, why you ate the foods he hand-fed you more easily, or why you were napping in the afternoon. Yes, he liked these changes and welcomed them eagerly, believing you were finally warming up to him. But why?

After nearly six weeks, you were worried why your period didn't come. You speculated the stress could have been a prominent factor in causing your late cycle, sometimes occurring in your youth. You seem bloated lately as well, you note, or it could've been weight gain due to the food you have been eating lately. Thus you brushed it off.

It'll come soon, you just know it. Afterall, you're still a human and change is a part of life.

In another area of the temple, a different situation was unfolding. When the trusted follower reported to Doma about your very late menstrual cycle, he clapped with joy like a child being entertained. Of course! How slow can he be?! You finally are carrying his child! The hormonal changes affected how you behaved with him and the sudden weight gain explained it all.

Oh, he just couldn't wait for the day to come!

However...

He had to make sure you did nothing irresponsible to push back his dream.

Doma became more strict and possessive with you. He didn't let you go anywhere alone. Even if you were in the privacy of your room, someone had to be there.

The days where you spent waiting for him in your bedroom were now spent at his side. He forced you to sit on his lap like before, feeding you more than you're used to. Any question concerning his increase of doting behavior was met with a laugh and a kiss to your cheek. "I just love you so much, I want you to be healthy!"

Doma isn't stupid. He knew the moment he mentioned, or even insinuated, you were pregnant, you would break down and possibly affect the baby negatively. He didn't know if you were capable of taking drastic measures of getting rid of it this far along, but he didn't want to find out.

With careful, watchful eyes, Doma made sure everyday you were fed well, that you were always protected, and made sure nothing upset you. He went the extra mile to find medicine and herbs incase you ever fell ill. The demon made sure your attention was always occupied to keep from noticing your changing body.

To say it worked was an understatement.

By the fifth month, you realized despite your growing stomach, you weren't gaining weight anywhere else. Most of your clothes fit like a glove except around your abdomen.

Your heart began to race as you wracked your mind of the events for the past few months.

When was the last time you had gotten your period?

You don't recall changing your sheets every month because you stained it, nor do you recall dealing with the hassle of keeping yourself clean. Come to think of it, you felt at ease these past few months, the usual cramps and cravings you felt no longer bothering you like before.

Ridding yourself of your clothes, slipping your kimono off until you're left in your undergarments of hadajyuban and susuyoke. You undid your sash and revealed your stomach. You're met with the sight of your bulging tummy and tender breasts. Pressing a finger pad to the skin of your stomach, it seemed firm instead of soft and plush. With a shaky breath, you pressed your palms against your stomach and...

Kick. Kick.

You removed your hands immediately, face falling. No...

No. No! No! No!

How didn't you notice it before!?

Your chest fell and rose quickly with every breath you took, hyperventilating as the situation dawned on you. You were pregnant. Actually pregnant with that damn demon's child. A bellowing scream ripped from your throat, the high-pitch intensity resonating like shattering glass throughout the temple.

Doma raced to your bedroom, fearing the worse as he heard his wife scream. He ran into the bedroom, only to be met with your form bawling on the floor, hunched over as sobs wracked your body. Followers tried to console you, yet you ignored them.

Doma approached you carefully and crouched down, but the moment he put a hand on your back, you whipped your head and cracked your hand across his face like a whip. He fell back, catching himself, shock etched into his features. You... You hit him? He paid no mind to the followers who raced to his side, asking him if he was okay. He was more surprised you dared slap him.

The stinging of his cheek didn't hurt , but it caught him off guard. He looked up and leered at you with wide eyes. Yet he clashed with the burning, sorrowful gaze you held.

"Fuck you! Goddamnit, leave me alone, you monster! I hate you! I hate you! I hate you!!" You screech, standing up and burying your face in your hands. Tears slipped through your fingers and dripped to the floor.

Doma smiled, finally understanding why you were reacting the way you were. He began chuckling, then giggling, and then he broke into a fit of laughter. He stood up and held a hand to his face, looking at you with a crazed, delighted expression on his face. Gleefully, he spoke, "Oh, petal! You finally caught on!"

You shake your head and begin crying louder, turning your back to the demon. "No, no, no...," you whimper.

"We're going to be parents...," Doma croons, taking small, quiet steps towards you. Like before, he tries pulling you close but you brush him off.

"Please... Please, just leave me alone...!"

"Oh, [Name], you'll see. Once our baby is here, you'll love being a mommy. Just like I'll love being a papa...!"

"No... I didn't want this...."

"But I did! I told you for so long...," Doma whispers, uncomfortably close to you. He lets out a breathy laugh. "And now that you're finally with child, I'm going to make sure I see my baby no matter what."

You could only stand in horror, listening to his voice. The panic crawled up your throat, fear taking hold of you as you froze up. With bated breath, you wait for him to leave. But his next words made your heart drop and blood run cold.

"I'm willing to do anything for our child, [Name]. Even if it means I may have to hurt you to guarantee their safe arrival."

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

Doma is not submissive and breedable. He is dominant and fertile.

He finally has his wish of having a family with the woman he loves.

And he'll do anything to make it come true.

Even if it means he has to become the monster and hurt you to get it.

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

©𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚊 || 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚟𝚎𝚍 || 𝚗𝚘 𝚝𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜, 𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚝𝚜, 𝚌𝚘𝚙𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚎𝚙𝚘𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚎𝚝𝚌. 𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚌𝚒𝚛𝚌𝚞𝚖𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜,

✦✦✦ ✦✦✦

[sukirichi]

crush

pov. you have a crush on your brother’s best friend

request. Hi! Congrats on 2.4k!!🤩 For the event, may I request an au where reader is Yuuta’s sister? Can be gn/fem reader anything is fine. And they fall in love with Toge? Fluff fluff fluff please

notes. awww i love this request, i have a fat crush on toge so i enjoyed writing this! i made this a modern high school au, by the way!

You stare disappointedly at the black wrappings of your bento, sighing because your brother took the wrong one again. Waving goodbye to your friend, you made your way to your brother’s classroom, knocking on the door to get his attention. However, it isn’t your brother who’d stopped laughing mid-conversation. Instead, it’s a familiar-looking platinum haired guy, his purple eyes glimmering with mischief as he slapped your brother’s arm.

“Yo, Yuta, I think someone’s looking for you,” you heard him say.

Meanwhile, you just stood there blankly, your throat growing dry because he was cute – like actually handsome boy-next-door cute.

You’ve met lots of cute guys before, but they were all very immature that you found no interest in others. He, on the other hand, was nothing less of polite, shooting up from his seat because your stupid brother was too invested in his video games. The guy flashed you a bright smile, the beauty of his face up close enhanced that you felt your heart squealing.

Not that you’d ever show that, of course, so you just reciprocated with a polite smile to hide your frantic nerves.

“Hi! You here for Yuta-kun?”

“Y-yes.”

Before he could speak, an arm had shoved him aside. Yuta stood before you, his frown apparent while his friend stayed at the side, a smile still playing on his lips. It took all your energy to not stare at him too much in fear he’d easily read through you.

“Hey, what are you doing here?”

“You swapped lunches with me,” you shoved the black bento box to his chest, stepping closer to your brother to whisper in his ear. “Is that a friend of yours?”

“Yeah, he’s Toge. He used to play with us a lot before he moved away, but his family’s back in town. Don’t you remember him?”

“No…”

“Toge, come here!” he called out to his retreating friend, the guy freezing in his tracks before he jogged up to where you were quickly. Oh crap, you kept gushing, he really was cute. He placed an arm around your brother’s shoulder, nodding at you as a greeting. “Remember my sister? You used to play with her a lot when we were kids. You kept stealing her Barbies, remember?”

“I did?” Toge looked shocked, his back bending into a fake bow. “I’m very sorry for that, but don’t worry, I don’t do that anymore.”

“I don’t play with Barbies at this age!” you defended, heat spreading all over your skin when he winked at you. Both of them laughed at your flushed face, and you crossed your arms on your chest, glaring at your brother. Really though, you were just trying to hide the fact you were very attracted to his friend, even more so now that he was actually familiar. “Stupid Yuta-nii.”

“You’re cute,” Toge randomly piped in.

If you were feeling shy before, you couldn’t speak now.

“Dude, don’t talk about my sister like that,” Yuta gagged, slapping his friend on the chest who effortlessly ducked away, his laughter like music in your ears. You stared at him for who knew how long, his happiness absorbed in your body as you found yourself giggling back. Yuta, on the other hand, wasn’t as impressed, rolling his eyes at his friend before turning to you. “You should go back to class. The bell will ring soon.”

“Okay,” you nodded quietly, hesitating for a moment. Surely it wouldn’t be too weird, right? Deciding to heck with it though, you balled your hands into fists, mustering the courage to look him in the eye as you said, “See you, Toge-senpai.”

He simply shrugged his brows up as a farewell, and just like that, you dashed down the hall so fast you put Quicksilver to shame.

Great. Out of all the days it had to storm, it had to be on the rare moment you forgot your umbrella. Unsurprisingly enough, it was Yuta’s fault for making you forget it. Both of you had slept in too much, but instead of being the responsible older brother, he left you to prepare the meals all by yourself while he spent half an hour fixing his hair. In your haste to arrive on school on time, you’d forgotten to pick up your umbrella, and now the misfortune of it slapped you right on the face.

“Tch, how can I go home?” you glared at no one in particular.

Yuta had to stay behind for baseball practice in the covered court, leaving you all alone to take the bus by yourself. Well, not that it mattered, going home alone was way better than listening to your brother rant about video games and girls he wanted to talk to in class.

Shifting your weight from one foot to another, brows pinched as you mulled on the different ways you could come back home, you came up with two options.

One, run like hell and risk getting sick from this weather, or two, wait for the rain to subside.

But ugh, you wanted to go home already. Before you knew it, you’d unknowingly pouted, arms hugged to yourself while you cursed your stupid brother a hundred times over in your head. Too lost in your own thoughts, you failed to hear humming from behind you, a scream nearly ripping from your lips when someone planted himself beside you.

“Hey, you’re here!”

You gazed up at him wide-eyed, subconsciously stepping away to keep your beating heart at bay. “H-hello, Toge-senpai.”

“Please, just call me Toge,” he offered, opening his umbrella before his eyes landed on you. Probably realizing you were quite helpless, Toge smiled, nudging you to come closer to him. “Hey, I’ll walk you home. You guys still live in the same block?”

“Yeah.”

And so there you were, debating that maybe Yuta’s carelessness wasn’t such a bad thing. After all, if it would lead to your crush taking you home, then you weren’t complaining. Funny how the weather seemed so gloomy, a huge contrast to the sunshine you radiated at the sheer happiness of living out your most romantic fantasies. It was silly, actually, to crush on your brother’s best friend of all people, but Toge was so nice and handsome – it was kind of impossible not to like him.

In the span of two weeks that you’d known him, he’d been nothing but friendly. And no, you weren’t going to admit you started visiting their classroom more often than before, simply because you wanted to get a glimpse of him.

Toge pulled you out of your lovesick trance, his arm landing on your waist before he shifted you beside him. You noticed he was now closer to the road while you were on the safer side of the sidewalk, and god, did he just step closer? He was close enough that your arms brushed with each step, sending a wave of heat that you bit back by tugging your lips with your teeth.

“For warmth,” he explained as if reading your mind, arm raised lazily in a shrug. “Wouldn’t want you to get cold.”

“Thank you,” you muttered, hiding your face under your scarf.

You and Toge were silent the whole time, but it was a silence you adored. Very rarely that you found comfort in silence with others, but with Toge, it felt so easy – so natural. You hadn’t even realized you were already at home, Toge chuckling at your spaced out self. He bid his farewell then, his back facing yours as he walked away when you blurted, “Oh, my parents aren’t home. I think you should stay first to let the rain calm down a bit. You live a little far from school, right?”

Toge looked a little surprised, his eyes shooting up to the sky with a sigh. Inwardly, you were screaming because you just invited him inside, but Toge was already waddling back to you before you could regret it.

“Yeah, thanks for the invitation. I don’t think I should go home in this weather too,” he said, following you across the threshold. He looked around in awe, his shoes left in the front door before he crossed the living room with you, his eyes shining with nostalgia and happiness. “Wow, your place hasn’t changed one bit. I missed being here.”

You flashed him a smile. Turns out it wasn’t that bad – Toge being comfortable made you comfortable. Aside from the nervousness partnered with shyness from having a crush, you applauded yourself for being able to look him in the eye as you asked, “Do you want tea, coffee…?”

“Water is fine. Thanks,” he shrugged off his jacket and placed it behind a chair, chuckling when you nodded too fast. Toge, much to your dismay (or delight?!) trailed behind you in the kitchen, having no business looking that handsome as he leaned against the counter. Him being unaware of his effect on you was even worse, and you bit the inside of your cheeks, trembling as you poured him a glass of water. 

From behind you, Toge snickered, “Why are you so jittery? Do I make you nervous?”

“A-a little.”

“Why? Am I intimidating?” he appeared beside you out of nowhere, so close that you could count his lashes. You leaned back with a muffled squeal, eyes wide at the proximity. Toge, as always, seemed completely unaware of it, taking his time to assess your features with a hand on his chin as if all the answers he was looking for was written all over your face. “Yuta told me I was very easy to approach though.”

“No, it’s not that, I just…” you stuttered, giving in with weak knees and turning your head to the side. Your heart, your poor heart! “Crap, I hate myself.”

“You were saying something?”

“I, uhm, it’s just,” you panicked, mind failing to function now of all times. “I think…I have a crush on you?”

The room fell silent.

Realization dawning on you, you flattened your palms together in a begging motion. Toge merely blinked back at you, and you were so close to just kneeling to the gods to rid yourself of this moment forever. “Please forget everything I said, I’m so sorry! Gosh, Yuta’s going to kill me, forget I said anything, I didn’t mean to be weird.”

“Hey, chill, it’s fine!” he laughed, helping you get up just before you fell in exasperation. Then, he smirked at you, wiggling his brows in the process. “I kind of knew that anyway, to be honest.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, I mean, you asked me to marry you when we were kids,” he informed you, but the memory never played back in your mind. It wasn’t a lie though, you really did ask him that when you were kids. Embarrassment taking hold of you, you groaned behind your palms, feeling like your heart was going to explode every now and then.

“Oh my gosh…”

“It’s okay,” Toge peeled your arms away from your face, his grin nothing less of teasing the moment he’s greeted by your shyness. “I did say yes – let’s just wait after high school, yeah?”

[damiano-mylove]

How the members of Måneskin confess their feelings for you

GN!reader and god i love thomas *Masterlist*

Vic

Vic's big reveal wouldn't actually be that big of a reveal, honestly

It would be off-handed for sure.

The two of you would be having one of your staying in nights, drinking sweet glasses of fruity wine and eating cheap bonbons, watching a mellow film

Vic would have your hand in hers; her soft yet calloused hands, that smelt of blood orange and sandalwood hand cream

After placing a soft kiss to your knuckles to get you attention, she gave you a sweet smile

'How about a nail day tomorrow?'

She'd never been perturbed by chipped nail polish, so her offer made you chuckle a bit

'Are they really that atrocious?'

Vic's face got hot and her eyes seemed to shine in the dim lamp light of the room. She looked away subtly to the television, where her face was then occupied by bright colours. She smiled, seemingly to herself.

'The person I love deserves only the best'

Now it was your turn for your face to grow hot

There was no doubt that Vic didn't mean these words, but it was the first that she'd voiced her love for you (to you) aloud

You couldn't help but nudge her face to look back at yours, then joining your lips with her ever soft ones

This kiss was unlike any other than you had ever shared - it was as if time had paused just for the two of you to enjoy the moment fully. Even the noises from the television seemed to dim and the room got a degree warmer

Of course it was different. You were kissing the woman you loved with the knowledge that she felt the exact same way.

Thomas

For Thomas 'I love you' and 'I'm in love with you' are two completely different sentences that convey two completely different feelings

Early on, he began ending phone calls with 'ti amo', then saying those same words every time you parted ways with the beautiful man

Not too early on, of course. He didn't want to scare you away, and he never pressured you to return those words

But one night, about six months into your relationship, Thomas took you to dinner

It was an extremely nice dinner; almost too rich for either of your bloods

Thomas went with you to get your nails done, he told you to wear your nicest attire, and he seemed quite nervous in the days leading up to the dinner after he asked

You were worried he'd ask for your hand in marriage

But he didn't

Thomas took you to a very hoity toity restaurant in Rome, where all the patrons were wearing their nice pearls and extremely smart suits, where the air smelt of caviar and expensive perfumes

Dinner went very well - you got an extremely finely cooked meal, as did Thomas, and you had the best wine you'd ever had in your entire life, and the quartet that was playing seemed to know just the way to get you relaxed and happy

Just as dessert and coffee were being brought out for you two, Thomas took your hand from across the table and smiled (a smile that seemed to reach you soul and caress it)

'Y/n, I just want to say you have absolutely no obligation to accept nor to feel the same as I do' You definitely thought he was about to propose

Your heart began to race like you'd run a marathon and you tried not to think about sweaty palms, lest you summon sweaty palms

Thomas smiled, 'I'm in love with you, completely. My heart belongs to you. And my question for you, Y/n, is if you'd like...to move in with me?'

By the Jesus, that was a weight off your shoulders

You almost began crying, but your makeup was so nice tonight that you had to stop yourself. All of a sudden, you got very warm and tingly, and all you could do was nod like a fool

Thomas was worried by your reaction, thinking you were about to meltdown or something

Until you brought his fingers to your lips and kissed each one, then said, 'I'm completely in love with you as well'

Dessert was amazing

Ethan

Ethan would take the longest to actually put his love for you into words

He never thought that words would be able to do justice to his feelings for someone as wonderful as you; perhaps he would undershot and offend you, or perhaps he would overshot and scare you

Ethan saw it as a double edged sword, admitting his feelings

Of course, he took the more than words approach

When he finally came to terms with his love for you, he would become more comfortable with every aspect of his life with you by his side

He would let his hand rest on your thigh while he drove, he would tap out small rhythms on your back in the mornings when you'd lie on your stomach, he would play with and braid you hair in tiny pieces when you'd rest your head on his lap

Ethan would also do the most subtle things for you

He would open doors for you - sweeping behind them so you may go before him, he would untuck your chair for you then tuck you back in once you sat, he would notice when you were running low on something and get another for you, without even asking him to

In the end, Ethan's confession came in the night

He had thought you to be asleep and he was massaging small circles into your bicep with him thumb

Ethan would place a oft kiss to your temple and use Mr. Darcy's words, even though he thought you'd never hear his words, 'You have bewitched me body and soul. I love you.'

You didn't want to ruin the moment with some stupid remark, so you just backed into him gently and had a soft smile on your lips

His words came as no surprise, because he didn't need to say those words to make his love real, and you both knew that

Damiano

Romance was Damiano's game, there wasn't a single person alive who would dispute that

But with you, it was different

His tongue got tied, his stomach held butterflies, his heart almost hurt - this was true love, and it affected Damiano in ways no one could even conceive

The mere day Damiano discovered and labeled his feelings for you, it was like a cosmic shift

He had spent the night debating every aspect of it - wanting to be absolutely sure, not knowing if he should just tell you right away for wait, did you love him back?

The change was palpable to everyone around you, not just you

Damiano's eyes studied your ever move, as if you were just a dream that he didn't want to forget when he woke up, as if you were an angel who walked the Earth

You felt very strongly, in the exact same way for him, and you had for some time now

But Damiano's words came a few days after the shift in his behaviour

As he was dropping you off at your house, with a passionate but sweet kiss on your doorstep, Damiano held your waist tightly and close to him - holding you like a crystal glass that you'd never risk dropping but wouldn't risk squeezing to breaking

'I love you so fucking much'

His words were mumbled against your lips warmly, making a masisve smile rip across your face, and his as well

'I love you too, Dami'

After that night, the game was all over

Damiano began writing you love poems every week, and sent flowers randomly to your house, with the cards always reading 'Love, D.D'

for @grizzbbearr i hope it lives up to expectation🦦

[greyeyedmonster-18]

i really want to ask for a snippet of tight ends because it is my whole heart but i’m scared you’re gonna get pissed

i don't think i've ever been pissed on this site barring two instances re: death threats.

so heres the deal-- i won't be posting tight ends, but i don't have a problem with snippets. but because i learned from my mistakes with NMTW, i don't really want...people to be asking why i'm not posting it because then...I'll just get annoyed and that's not fun.

but! here is a snippet for you <3

--

“I should apologize,” Remus said, swallowing as he watched Sirius lift a weight over his head, breathing out and in rhythmically.

“Fucks sake, I have 300lbs in my hands, and you’re apologizing?”

“Seemed like the only time you wouldn’t just…walk away. I can spot. Shouldn’t you have a spot? This is dangerous!”

Sirius racked the weight quickly and sat up, straddling the bench, “I should, but I don’t. You can’t spot.”

“I could try!”

“I’ll let you know when I do my cool down, hm? A nice and easy lap around the field.”

“Okay, this isn’t about me being inadequately built to play football,” Remus started again, annoyed Sirius could steal his intentions and conversations from him so quickly, and Sirius’s smirk told Remus all the information he needed to know. Sirius found it fun. Messing with Remus was a game and Remus let him win every time. “This is about me apologizing to you.”

“For...?”

“Being…in the locker room…you know.”

“No, I don’t. What are you apologizing for?” Sirius repeated, and Remus felt his face go red. The weight room was mostly empty, save Keeler along the opposite wall on a mat with a medicine ball. “Be specific, because…I could come up with a list of offenses on your behalf--the article being at the top of the list but…can’t recall anything that involves the locker room.”

“Sirius.”

“Hm? What’s that?”

Remus cleared his throat, dropping his head down to look at the ground, only to catch sight of the way Sirius’s exercise shorts had risen up, revealing the compression shorts underneath, snug around toned thighs.

Not. helping. 

He picked his head up, forcing himself to make eye contact with Sirius, “I…shouldn’t have been in the--”

“Can’t hear you, baby,” Sirius said; his own voice dropped and Remus looked over at Keeler once again, searching for any hint that he could hear what was happening. Maybe there were ear buds in? Lost in his own world?

“I shouldn’t have been in the locker room on Saturday after the game and I….shouldn’t have watched you. I…apologize it…I don’t…do things like that, and it was an invasion of privacy….sorry.”

“Oh…that?” he asked as if they were discussing a etiquette faux-pas; like Remus had shown up empty handed to a potluck or forgotten which fork was with. Inconsequential. No big deal. “Don’t apologize for that. Unless you ruined Prewetts sweatshirt, in which case…”

“Sirius.”

“Did you?”

“No.”

Sirius grinned, sitting up straighter on the bench, “Then there's nothing to be sorry for.”

“Y…you don’t mean that,” Remus said, as Sirius shifted forward to lean closer to him.

“You’re right. I tend to say things I don’t mean.”

“I just--” Remus floundered, gesturing aimlessly, “What is going on here? One second you’re pissed off every time I open my mouth, trying to get my assignment written, trying to understand the sport, get to know you--anything. The next you’re letting me stay the night in your bed, and taking my phone when I do stupid shit like keg stands, and saying its fine when you catch me masturbating to you? What is happening? Did someone put you up to this? Are you making fun of me, what is this?” Remus asked and Sirius just sat there smirking, “Stop it! I mean it! You with that stupid grin of yours, I don’t want to see it, I don’t--don’t laugh at me! Sirius.”

“I like you.”

“Why?”

“Fuck if I know,” Sirius said immediately, and Remus balked, “That was a joke.”

“You like me?”

“Of course I do. I let you sleep in my bed and jerk off to me.”

“Keep your voice down.”

Sirius grinned, “I like you, Remus. And even if I didn’t like you and your stupid lanyard that you always wear--”

“I have to! It lets me in!”

“We know you now, stupid, we’d let you in…” Sirius shook his head and Remus’s jaw continued to fall not believing what he was hearing, “Even if I didn’t like you…I think you’re very…” Sirius’s eyes moved slowly down Remus’s body, and the gesture alone was enough to make Remus’s flush deepen. “You’re just what I like. I’d let you stand there and look at me, all you’d like.”

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Sirius shrugged, “Can I get back to my workout now? I have another set to do and then go to the mat.”

“...Can I spot?”

Sirius snorted before lying back down on the bench, grabbing the bar, “Go ahead.”