#what can we say. horror is always and will be That Bitch

[cxvii666]

"WHY'S THIS DEALER? TAKING THE PISS!?"

college au! hanta sero x reader

(part three)

cw: drinking, bad language, recreational drug use, reader sells bud, pussy eating, make out sessions, threesome in air quotes (denki's more of a voyeur than anything else) more like you x hanta(x denki), lots of second base action, 21st century love story, genz romcom type beat - part 2 was better and part 1 was my baby

the party is in full swing, a chaotic mishmash of too-loud music, clinking bottles, people yelling and the occasional cheer from a victorious drinking game. the air reeks of cheap beer and cheaper cologne, and there's this unspoken agreement that everyone is pretending the sticky spot on the floor isn't there. hanta's pretty sure someone just knocked over an entire plate of chips somewhere near the kitchen, and judging by bakugou's growling and yelling, it's about to get cleaned up in the most aggressive way possible.

still, he's not paying much attention to any of that.

not when he's standing near the couch with you on one side and denki on the other, grinning like he just won the lottery. hanta's not entirely sure how this happened-how he went from nursing a lukewarm beer in a corner to being wedged between you two-but he's not complaining.

the three of you were making idle talk about the party, who's a bitch, who hooked up with who, but to be perfectly honest, you have no idea what to say. you know so many cool things about sero, the type of music he likes (from his instagram highlights), that he drinks this special organic green tea every morning (from denki accidently drinking it this one time and screaming it about), that he's super into horror manga, that he likes the same movies as you, that he backstraps when he rolls, and you want him to teach you. but it's like you can't even open your mouth to say any of this to him, and denki has for sure has picked up on this.

the blonde glances at you now from across hanta, mostly out of his own surprise that neither of you two have made a move yet. he mentally rolls his eyes, you all for sure love to call him the dumb one but the only idiots he sees are the two pining next to him.

so denki, as always, is the catalyst. "sooo," he says, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, "y'know, i was thinking..." and the both of you groan on reflex because he's got that glint in his eye, the one that usually means trouble. "we should totally play spin the bottle. or like, seven minutes in heaven or something. you guys down?"

hanta's about to protest- because really?, who even plays those anymore?- but then you laugh. it's that same laugh from the car, the one that's stuck in his head for days, and suddenly he's a little more open to the idea.

"spin the bottle, huh?" you say, leaning back against the armrest of the couch, your hood slipping slightly. "that's so middle school of you, denki.

"hey, middle school was a vibe." denki shoots back, unbothered. he plops down on the carpet in front of the coffee table and waves at the two of you to join him.

"c'monnn, it'll be fun. unless you're scared."

"you're unwell," you deadpan, but your feet follow him to where he's sat and when the smirk creeping onto your face betrays you, and denki catches it like a hawk. you glance at hanta, eyebrows raised. "you in?

"ummm," hanta hesitates, but the way you're looking at him makes it hard to say no. "-sure?"

"that's the spirit!" denki hollers, snatching an almost-empty beer bottle from the table. he's vibrating with chaotic energy as he spins it, barely waiting for it to stop before shouting, "Y'ALL JOINING OR WHAT?"

mina and kirishima are immediately in because they can smell drama from a mile away. a couple of randoms that hanta doesn't from campus join too, and suddenly there's a circle forming, powered entirely by questionable decision-making, and denki's grin widens as he sets the bottle in the middle.

the game starts innocently enough. a couple of spins lead to awkward cheek kisses, overdramatic "EWWWs" from mina, and one insanely disastrous attempt by kirishima to lips bakugou, which ends in a wrestling match that topples half the circle and flipping a table.

but then. oh, then. the bottle lands on you. or more accurately, on you and denki, because the blonde immediately grabs the bottle before it even stops spinning fully.

"alright, alright." denki says, waving his hands like he's running damage control, but his grin is devious. "we'll share."

"share?" hanta asks, an eyebrow raising. "how does that even work?"

denki, completely unfazed, points between you and hanta. "it's simple, dude. a group effort. right, babe?" he winks at you, and to hanta's surprise, you're laughing again.

hanta might actually short-circuit. "you're so stupid." you say, still laughing, but your gaze flick to hanta, and there's no denying the glint of amusement in your eyes.

"what do you say, sero? think you can handle it?"

hanta's not sure if it's the alcohol, the atmosphere, or just the way you're looking at him, but he rolls his tongue across his teeth, a lazy grin creeping onto his face and he nods. "yeah, uh, sure. why not?"

cut to: the three of you sprawled on the couch like you just collectively lost a game of jenga, but instead of wooden planks, it's your sense of dignity. the rest of the group has dispersed, denki's practically in your lap, hanta wedged inbetween, and there's entirely too much touching. it starts simple-a hand on a knee, a brush of shoulders-but then denki's dragging his fingers under hanta's hoodie, and your lips are at his neck, and holy shit, when did it get so warm in here?-

"relax, sero," denki says, low and taunting as he finally slides off of your lap, watching you trail your hands down, down, and back up hanta's chest. "we're just having fun."

"yeah," you add, your voice smooth and teasing. "you trust us, right?"

hanta inhales deeply trying not to lose his composure fixing his beanie back over his head. "yeah. of course."

he looks from you to denki before sniffing as his fingers twitch from where they're gripping the sides of your thighs, fuck he really hopes his hands aren't sweaty. he's chill guyed to close to the sun, his mouth has run dry, his social battery is depleting and to be honest he's growing a bit tired of the chaos surrounding you.

that's when denki leans in with his sly grin and nods at his bestfriend, "you wanna go for a smoke huh?" and he turns to you, "i know a spot if you don't mind supplying." and you're already on your feet not hesitating to agree. hanta nods along, his lazy smile softening at the thought of escape. the three of you slip out unnoticed, the bass of the music fading behind you as the crisp night air hit.

"god, i thought we'd never leave." you mutter, shoving your hands into your hoodie pockets checking for your phone, your lipgloss, your wallet and your bud, as denki looks over with a mock gasp.

"what, my party planning wasn't good enough for you?"

"your party planning?" you shoot back, raising an eyebrow. "you're just the guy who shows up with the aux cord and a vape. let's not overstate your role dude."

hanta snickers, shaking his head as denki gasped dramatically. "can you fuck off, hanta, tell her i'm vital to party ecosystems."

"nah she's got a point," hanta replies, his voice laced with amusement. "i don't remember seeing you do much more than yap and hit your pen."

denki groans, muttering about how no one appreciates his genius as he leads the way to a bus stop round the back of the field not far from the mina's place. the three of you settle under the secluded barely lit bus shelter. hanta rolls his own cig while you roll up the joint. you glance over at his fingers a couple times and nearly drop the roach when you watch him lick a stripe down the rolling paper.

you finish up and pass denki the joint, the first few hits were passed around in comfortable silence, as you all take a second to breathe in the crisp night air.

"alright, spill," denki says suddenly, leaning back and eyeing you. "what's your deal with sero?"

your stomach drops. "huh, what?" you replied, grasping onto what's left your pride and trying to play it cool despite the heat creeping up your neck. "what deal? i don't have a deal, there's no-"

"you're super into him."

hanta's head snaps up. "what?" he echoes, looking between the two of you.

"nothing," you say quickly, shooting denki a death glare and snatching the zoot from him. "stfu, what is wrong with," you say with a hiss.

"It's fine," denki teases, leaning into hanta with a conspiratorial whisper. "she told me earlier. said you were her dream guy and everything."

you groan, burying your face in your hands. "i actually hate you."

hanta's laugh rang out, light and easy. "is that true?" he asked, his tone teasing but warm.

you peek at him from between your fingers. his grin was wide, but his gaze was soft, genuine. it made your heart flutter, and for a moment, you forgot how to speak.

"yeah, well," you say finally, taking another hit before passing him the joint. "don't let it go to your head."

hanta smiles, a faint blush dusting his cheeks and when the point of connection where your fingertips touch shoots a spark through him. "wouldn't dream of it."

denki's cackle breaks the moment. "you guys are so cute i might puke," he says, clutching his chest dramatically. "okay, okay, let's get snacks before i lose my buzz."

the room was softly lit, the only illumination coming from the early morning sun filtering through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the tangled pile of limbs on hanta's bed. the three of you were still sleeping, basking in the warm, lazy comfort of the previous night's haze. the air smelled faintly of citrus and smoke, the lingering traces of your late-night adventures.

you stirred first, a soft hum escaping your lips as you blink against the sunlight. you stretch slightly, careful not to disturb the two boys beside you. hanta's arm was draped over your waist, his grip loose and comforting, while denki lay sprawled on his stomach, one hand brushing against your shoulder.

"morning," you whisper, your voice still thick with sleep, as you turn your head to meet hanta's warm brown eyes. he looks at you with a lazy smile, his hair mussed and sticking up at odd angles.

"morning," he replies, his voice raspy and soft, the kind of tone that sent shivers down your spine.

denki groans from his place next to you, stretching dramatically. "why is the sun so loud?" he mumbles, making you and hanta laugh.

"you're the loud one," you shoot back, chucking a pillow at him. "ow fuck." "oh don't be such a baby."

hanta's laugh rumbles in his chest, and you feel it more than heard it. the vibration was comforting, grounding you in the soft intimacy of the moment. "i think you're just mad you're not a morning person," he says, his voice still low and gravelly from sleep.

denki cracks one eye open to glare at you, though his lips quirked into a grin. "well liked it better when it was just us, the food, and the movie."

hanta's hand brushes against your hip as he shifts closer. "yeah, but this is nice too."

you feel the tension shift in the room, subtle but palpable. hanta's thumb traces a slow circle on your hip, the light touch sending sparks across your skin. denki notices, of course, his grin fading into something softer, something more curious as his gaze flicks between the two of you.

"you're touchy this morning," you tease, though your voice was quieter now, your heart picking up speed.

hanta doesn't answer right away, his lips quirking into a small, knowing smile as he leans closer. his voice barely above a whisper when he says "can't help it. you're here."

denki's eyes widen slightly, his usual cool guy act slipping for a moment. "whoa, okay, are we doing this? s this a thing now?"

you laugh again, the sound nervous but excited. "are you always this subtle?"

denki smirks, sitting up slightly. "subtlety is overrated. i'm just saying- if something's happening, i'd rather not be the clueless idiot in the room."

hanta snorts, his hand still resting on your hip. "you've never been clueless, denks."

the air grew heavier, the playful banter giving way to something more intimate. hanta's gaze meets yours, a question lingering in his expression. when you nod, his hand slides up your side, his touch firm but careful, testing the waters.

denki watches, his breathing hitching slightly as hanta leaned in to kiss you. it was slow and deliberate, his lips soft and warm.

"you okay, denki?" you ask leaning back to look at him from beside you when you and hanta finally break for air. the brief pause is just that, brief, because hanta's lips are back on yours before you can finish speaking.

"oh, i'm very okay," he replies, his grin returning as he leaned back against the pillows. "don't mind me. just... enjoying the view."

hanta has to physically pull himself off of you in order to shoot his best friend a look that was both completely exasperated and totally amused. "you think you're such a joker-"

"yeah, yeah," denki says, waving him off. "just keep going, don't let me distract you."

hanta turns his attention back to you, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt, his touch igniting a trail of heat along your skin. he guides you onto your back, his lips finding yours again, deeper this time, more insistent. his hands roam, exploring the curves of your body with a reverence that made you swallow down a whimper.

denki shifts closer, his eyes fixed on the way hanta kisses you, his own hands twitching as if he wanted to reach out but didn't quite dare. "you guys are so hot together," he murmurs, his voice low and filled with awe.

hanta pulls back slightly, his lips swollen and his gaze dark. "you want to join, or are you just gonna sit there?"

denki blinked, clearly caught off guard, but the slow grin spreading across his face said everything. "oh, i'm in." what followed was a blur of soft laughter and heated touches. the blonde gets manhandled into sitting behind you as hanta presses you back into denki's chest. hanta's lips trail down your neck, his hands pulling your shirt up and over your head. denki leans in, his fingers brushing against your arm as he tilted your chin toward him for a kiss that was playful but electric.

when hanta slid lower, his kisses trailing down your stomach, you shiver, anticipation thrumming through you. denki's hand finds yours, his grip firm and reassuring as he watched hanta settle between your thighs. his eyes darken as he takes in the sight of you, his tongue darting out to wet his lips.

"you're beautiful," hanta murmurs, his breath warm against your skin before he presses a kiss to your inner thigh. the sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through you, as your ass jerks back and the blonde lets out a sigh as you make contact with the half-chub in his boxers. your free hand tangling into hanta's soft hair as he continued his slow, deliberate exploration.

denki's breathing grew heavier, his gaze fixed on the way hanta moved, the way you reacted. "holy shit," he whispered, his voice thick with arousal. "you're so into this, aren't you?"

you nod, unable to form words as hanta's mouth finally finds its mark, his tongue moving in deliberate, torturous strokes up your slit that left you gasping. as he ate you out with passion, grunting and groaning into your pussy, hips bucking into the mattress. denki's hand tightens around yours, his other hand resting on your knee, his touch grounding you as the pleasure built higher and higher.

hanta didn't stop, his hands gripping your hips to keep you steady as he worked you over with a skill and dedication that left you trembling. denki's eyes never left you, his own arousal evident as he leaned closer, his lips brushing against your temple in a surprisingly tender gesture.

"you're amazing y'know," he murmurs, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

when you finally come undone, your body arching off the bed and your cries muffled against denki's shoulder, hanta didn't let up until you were completely spent, twitching and whining. he pulled back, his lips glistening and his expression smug as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.

denki let out a low whistle, his grin wide and appreciative. "damn, sero. i didn't know you was an eater like thaattttt," he turns to you "he's a keeper forreal-" you cut him off with a pillow to the face as hanta snickers, climbing back up to press a kiss to your forehead. "glad you think so."

you laugh softly, your body still buzzing as you reach for hanta pulling them both into a lazy, contented embrace. the three of you stayed like that, tangled together in the warm morning light, the world outside forgotten as you basked in the easy intimacy of the moment.

HEYYYYY YALLLL this is the last part of this particular series but i love this au and i have some more thingys in my drafts a lot briefer than this and if you LIKED this one then you'll probably LOVE girls who like to fuck

[clowningaroundmars]

hearing abt the movies that we'll be getting in the near future, it feels like studios are still not willing to make new shit at all (tell us smthn we don't know lol) but they're hearing us out on how we're so unbelievably sick n tired of remakes (read: their bank accounts are getting hit with every live action slop they shit out)

so i guess. the compromise is that we're getting new movies sure, but they're like... 5 new stephen king adaptations, yet ANOTHER conjuring movie and saw 11

hm.

[darkbluekies]

Stupid people

Yandere!mafia!oc x reader

Summary: a number sends Silas a picture of darling that sends him into rage

Warnings: murder, mentions of NSFW, Silas lashes out towards darling, guilt, slight indication of a character asking if it was consensual (it was — the deed, not the pictures), pictures taken without permission, punching and kicking between legs

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: to clarify, the photos are taken AFTER the deed, not during!

There's only two people Silas likes enough to let them be in his office for more than asking a question — you and SIC.

“Stupid people are my favorite kind of people”, SIC says from the couch, eyes glued onto his phone. “Some idiot here tried to jump from a roof.”

“If only our enemies did that so that i didn't have to go kill them”, Silas smirks.

“Since when were we that lucky?”

A notification on his own phone caught his attention. Silas picks it up and unlocks it, seeing that the notification is from an unsaved number. He clenches his jaw. Photos. It takes a second for him to realize what — who — is in these two photos. He can recognise that back among millions. He sees that back every night, always holding it close to his chest.

“Motherfucker!” he shouts and rises from his chair in a swift.

“What?” SIC asks quickly, looking up from his screen.

Silas slams his phone down on the floor. It shatters and explodes in every direction. SIC jumps up from the couch.

“Woah, what’s going on?” he asks quickly. 

Silas can't reply. His heart is hammering in his throat. If he tries to speak, it'll jump out. His entire body is shaking. He's been mad before, but nothing compares to what he feels when you are involved.

“Silas?” SIC asks. “Sit down.”

He presses Silas down in the chair again.

“What happened?” he asks. “Give me a real fucking answer this time.”

“Some disgusting little bitch sent me photos of Y/N”,  he spits out, growing angrier by every word. “Naked, in a bed. I think you can figure out the rest yourself.”

SIC blinks. “Shit. Who?”

Silas gestures manically towards the broken phone. “I didn't write the number down before I fucking smashed it!”

“Alright. I'll take out the sim card and put it in my phone. I can find out.”

“Don't look at the photos, got that? I'm not joking. I will beat you up if I find out that you've looked at the photos.”

“Don't worry, boss, I won't.”

Silas sighs in frustration. He storms out of his office, up the stairs and throws up the door to your shared bedroom. You're nowhere to be found.

“Y/N!” he shouts angrily.

You come out of the bathroom, looking bewildered. A fear grows on your face when you realize how mad he is.

“What's wrong?” you ask quickly.

“Who the fuck have taken pics of you while having sex?!” he shouts. “Who is the low creature that has pictures of you?!”

Your eyes widen.

“What?” you ask. “Silas-”

He moves closer and you can't describe his demeanor in any other way than threatening. You stumble backwards, finally reaching the wall. Even when he's mad, he'd never do things to make you scared of him, never show you the side he shows his men and enemies. But this time, he doesn't seem to care about holding back. You get to see what everyone else sees.

“Whoever the little fucker is, I will shove that camera of his so far up his ass it'll puncture a lung, do you understand that?” Silas spits, face mere centimeters from your face. 

“Silas, I-”, you stutter.

Silas grabs the perfume standing on the shelf beside you and sends it flying across The room, breaking against the wall. You watch on in complete horror. Not even in the basement is he this violent, not around you.

Behind him, you see SIC run into the room, stopping in the doorway. He watches on with wide eyes.

“Who is it?” he spits before raising his voice. “Give me the name of the worthless little creature! I'll kill him!”

“Silas, I don't know!” you shout loudly in order to be heard over his own shouting. Tears blurry your vision as silence fills the room. “I d-don't know, I swear! I have no knowledge of a-any pictures taken of me. Please don’t be mad at me, I don’t know anything, I s-swear …”

You have wrapped your arms around yourself. You look so incredibly small. And helpless. He feels as if someone has punched him right in the stomach. He can't bring himself to shout at you. The fire in his eyes seems to blow out, leaving his eyes as dark as they should. He breathes heavily, feeling empty and painfully aware of everything around him — every little sound, movement. He finally realizes what's going on.

“Fuck”, he breathes out in a whisper and pulls you into his arms, into a tight embrace. “I'm so sorry.”

You sob into his shoulder, voice getting muffled in his white shirt. Silas hugs you as if his life depends on it.

“Baby, I didn't mean to shout at you”, he whispers. “I'm not mad at you, I'm mad at that disgusting filth. Not you, do you understand?”

He pulls you back and covers your face in apologetic kisses, caressing your cheeks and wiping your tears.

“Are you okay?” he asks, grabbing your face and forcing you to look him in the eyes.

You nod slightly and sniffle. Still shaking, but not mortified. 

“What pictures?” you ask with an unsteady voice.

Silas looks at SIC.

“Did you get the number?” he asks.

“No, I didn't have time to move over the sim card before I heard the glass shattering.”

Silas clears his throat. His ears turn red.

“Go retrieve the number and then come back”, he says.

SIC nods and walks out. Silas turns to you. He cups your cheeks and kisses your lips carefully.

“Sorry”, he says again.

“It’s … okay”, you mumble.

It doesn't seem to register for him. He has a guilty look in his black eyes.

“Silas … what pictures?” you ask again, dreading the answer yet needing to know.

“There’s nothing to worry about, I shouldn’t have told you. I will take care of it, okay?”

“You got so upset about it … something must be wrong. Have someone taken pics of me while I’ve … had sex?”

Silas can’t tell you. He knows how distraught you’ll be. 

“No, not while you had … after you were done … I don’t know”, he says. “I could have misunderstood the pictures. I broke my phone right after seeing them.” He notices how you give him an unsure gaze as he mentions his phone. “I get worked up quickly.”

You sniffle. Silas wipes your tears again and hugs you even tighter, resting his cheek on the top of your head. He feels like a complete fool, how could he slip up like that? He would never shout at you, never make you feel threatened. For fuck sake, you’re supposed to seek shelter and comfort in him!

“Are you sure that you’re okay?” Silas asks. 

“Mhm”, you mumble. “Just shaking.”

“I can tell.” His embrace tightens. “Let’s sit down, alright?”

He moves you to the bed and sits down with you beside him. 

“What have you done today?” he asks and wraps his arm around your shoulders. 

“I’ve been watching some shows”, you reply. 

“Which one?”

“Some cartoon … I don’t remember the name.”

“Do you think I’d like it?”

You give him a small smile and shake your head. “No, it’s too cheesy for you.”

Silas smiles. “What type of fucking stereotype is that? Show me and I’ll decide for myself.”

You reach for the tablet and show him a few minutes of the cartoon. He leans onto you, wrapping himself around you like a boa constrictor. 

The door opens and SIC returns with his phone in his hand. 

“Got it”, he says and walks over to the bed. “Y/N, take a look and-”

Silas slaps his hand away. 

“Are you fucking out of your mind?” he scolds him. “You’re not showing them those!”

SIC holds his phone out of Silas’s reach. 

“I am”, SIC replies.

Silas stands up. The animalistic, lredatory light is back in his eyes. You don’t doubt that he would punch him. 

“I am going to show these pictures to Y/N to confirm that they remember the sex happening”, SIC explains sharply. “Because if they don’t, we might have a worse crime on our hands.”

Silas doesn’t reply. He seems to think, and seems to consider whether he should punch the man or not. He nods in defeat. SIC gives you the phone and you take a mortified look at the two pictures. 

“Do you recognise where you are in these two pictures?” SIC asks. “Do you know when this was? Do you have memories of it?”

You look at the pictures, fearing that you’re not going to recognise the location or remember what happened … or who you were with.

“I know when and where this is”, you say. “It was five years ago. I remember it.”

“You're sure you remember it?” SIC asks.

“Yes … but I didn't know that he took pics …” 

“Okay, the fucker is dead”, Silas decides.

“What was his name?” SIC asks.

“‘Eric’ something”, you say. “I met him at a party. He was nice, or so i thought, and-”

Silas runs a hand through his black hair and sighs.

“I guess that he wasn't that nice”, you mumble.

“Pricks like that are never nice. They're just polite enough to lure people to get what they want. Who knows how many innocent people's photos he has on his hard drive?”

“Silas, can you do me a favor?”

“What?”

“If you manage to find him-”

“Not if; when.”

“When you manage to find him, give him an extra punch from me, will you?”

Silas smiles. “I'll give him tenfolds.”

Finding him is easier than the poor fellow had anticipated. Silas pities him. He's either too stupid to know who he is or has a death wish. He can't decide which one is worse.

“God, you're even uglier than i imagined”, Silas scoffs as he sees the man for the first time.

He's held up by two of his men, body pounded with punches beyond recognizable, but they've left his face untouched. That's for Silas to ruin.

“You're even uglier than your mess of a body”, he says, grabbing the man's face, tuning it carelessly. “We haven't even touched this yet. What did you gain from this? Not a lot, I see. I mean, you're here, in my basement, about to be killed. Can't say that I understand your intentions.”

“Did you like the pictures?” Eric asks, voice drowning in painful moans.

“‘Did i like the pictures?’” Silas repeats, appalled by the man's lack of remorse. “I don't need your pitiful pictures. I get the full act from whatever angle I want.”

It shouldn't make him cocky, but bragging about it always fills him with pride.

“Give me his phone”, he orders.

One of his men digs up the phone from Eric's pocket. He forces him to unlock it.

“Do you take these types of pictures often?” Silas asks, eyes narrowing as he scrolls past hundreds of women sleeping in beds. “What even are these?”

“I take a picture of the woman after our session, after she's fallen asleep”, Eric replies, “as a trophy.”

“As a-”, he cuts himself off. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Silas hits him with all his might. Eric's head shoots backwards, his neck acting like a jojo to get it back. Blood runs down from his nose.

“Delete all the pictures”, he tells SIC and gives him the phone. “From the phone, any cloud, any other hard-drive. These pictures will never be seen by anyone ever again.”

“Yes, boss”, SIC replies and takes the phone.

He disappears up the stairs. Silas turns to Eric.

“How did you get my number?” he asks. “And, when you got it, didn't you check to see who it belonged to? You're pretty stupid.”

“I just know that the number belonged to Y/N’s new boyfriend”, Eric replies.

“Husband.”

It shouldn't fill him with such pride at a moment like this, yet it does. 

“You're going to die now anyway, so it doesn't matter if I tell you my name”, Silas says. 

One of his men gives him a knife with a long shiny blade.

“Boss”, SIC says from the top of the stairs. “Y/N’s here.”

Silas hurries to give the knife back and gestures for him to hide it. 

“I’ll come upstairs”, he says. 

Before he has time to move, you've bursted past SIC. He tries to grab at you, but you're already half down the stairs.

“You absolute worthless piece of shit”, you spit.

Silas raises his eyebrows. 

Oh?

You run right over to Eric and slap him. Silas stands stunned. It takes him a few moments to gather himself and stop looking like a fool. He turns to the stairs where SIC stands, holding his hand over his face, laughing silently. He folds and has to hold onto the wall.

“How could you take such pictures?” you ask him. “What gave you the right?”

Silas grabs your shoulder to pull you away from him, but you shake him off.

“It's not like I took pics while we had sex”, Eric says, voice sounding even more painful.

Silas smirks. He can already tell that'll happen by the way your eyes widen. And he won't stop it. Won't even try to. You hit the man again and kick him between the legs. He tries to curl up, but is being held up by Silas’s men. 

“Okay, okay”, Silas says and grabs your shoulders, pulling you backwards. “Enough of that. SIC, take Y/N to the bedroom and make sure they stay there.”

SIC grabs you out of his arms. Silas grabs the knife once more. 

“What should we start with?” he asks, spinning the knife. “Your hands? Arms? Legs? Decide, coward.”

SIC forces you upstairs before he has the time to cut off any body parts.

“Let me go!” you mutter. 

“Just stay quiet until we get up to the bedroom”, SIC says. “Nice shot you got, by the way. I know it caught Silas by surprise. That’s hard to do, you know.”

“He deserves more.”

“And Silas will give him that, don’t you worry. That is not your job. You got two punches and one kick in, that’s enough.”

WHen you try to run back downstairs, he picks you up over his shoulder and continues upstairs. 

“Don’t give me more trouble”, he sighs. 

SIC walks into the bedroom and places you down on the floor before barricading the door with his body to make sure you’re not making a run for it. 

“The pictures are gone”, SIC says. “All of them — of you and of other people.”

“How many were there?”

“Hundreds. All taken when they had fallen asleep afterwards. He kept them like trophies.”

The door opens before he’s done with his sentence. Silas walks in, finally looking pleased. 

“Dona already?” SIC asks. 

“I got impatient”, he mutters and closes the door. “Little thing, are you okay?”

You nod. Silas hugs you, kissing the top of your head. He still feels awful about shouting at you. He squeezes you even tighter. 

“Thank you”, you say quietly. “You helped not only me but also a lot of other people. That’s a good thing.”

His heart clenches. He has apologized a million times and you have forgiven him … but he can’t seem to forgive himself. It all happened so quickly, yet it lingers in him. 

“Of course”, he says. “Scumbags need to be taken care of the right way. I kind of pitied the man. He must have been extremely stupid to let me know about him. Good that he was stupid though.”

Thinking about him makes him furious once more, but he reminds himself that it’s over. He has gotten his punishment … and Silas has saved people. Innocent people should never be punished for crimes they didn’t commit.

No one will ever see any those pictures again. No one will have to deal with that man ever again. 

[ervotica]

loved up?

pairing; fred weasley x fem!reader

series; the bestfriendverse NEW! (ongoing)

warnings; allusions to self harm (reader), pining, idiots in love (but they don't know it yet), a lil sad but also fluffy

synopsis; fred gives you - his obviously platonic best friend - a cuddle in the common room. an interrogation ensues.

a/n; i'm veeeery rusty but i'm back bitches!! and proud to present.... the bestfriendverse. turning this into a lil series of drabbles (& hopefully longer chapters) if my brain keeps braining for long enough. so requests are muchly appreciated and my inbox is always open. cannot wait to explore these two in more depth!!! missed you all </3

You're halfway into Fred's lap when George and Lee round the corner to the common room, melty soft and warm with your legs over his thighs, eyes closed and lashes brushing at the juncture between his shoulder and neck.

He smells lovely.

He feels even lovelier – that soft rumble of his chest that lazily pushes its way through you, his hand at the side of your neck, keeping you nuzzling against him like a needy kitten. He hikes you further up and you preen, eyes still closed, half asleep and well on your way to drooling on his shoulder.

You stretch and wheedle your arms underneath his own until your shoulder is squeezed beneath his armpit. He makes room for you, as expected.

"Oi! They're having a love-fest in here!" Lee says. You groan and dig your head further into Fred's neck. Your heartbeat ticks up when he scrubs a sweeping circle over your back with his palm outstretched –you don't even mind when he rucks up your t-shirt.

You diligently ignore the hammering in your own ears.

The other end of the settee dips and George's weight settles at your back, knuckles brushing at the back of your neck in a way he knows makes you bristle and squirm. You squeak and make to dive behind Fred.

"Leave her be, Georgie," Fred says, mock offence dripping from his every syllable. His arm lifts instinctively and he ushers you right under until you're well and truly squashed, your whole body curled inward against his chest. It's endearing how seriously he takes defending your honour. "We were very comfortable before you interrupted, you silly sod."

"I resent that comment."

"You resemble it, more like."

George gasps in faux horror. You tip your head upwards just in time to watch Lee throw his arms around the pair of you, a devious grin on his face.

You know what he's going to say, no matter how much you wish he wouldn't.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you two looked proper loved up. Wouldn't you agree, George?"

"Absolutely."

If Fred feels you deflate, he's gracious enough not to mention it. Your lips purse and you busy yourself picking at your cuticles.

"Shut up," Fred snorts as though the thought alone is utterly ridiculous. Your heart does this awful sort of flip-flop that knocks the breath right out of you– it leaves an ache that carries right down to your toes.

You try to disentangle yourself from him as smoothly as possible. You want to run and hide from this conversation, the very conversation you've been rehearsing over and over in your head for months.

Being in love with your best friend isn't for the faint of heart.

Fred clings when you attempt to slide out of his grip, tugging you right back into his side. Heat rises to your cheeks so fast you feel faint.

Honestly, you might pass out right now.

Lee's already distracted, animatedly discussing the next upcoming prank with almost concerning fervour. Fred absentmindedly fiddles with the hem of your t-shirt as he listens.

Godric, you're burning up.

You can feel George's eyes on you. You know what he wants to say – can picture it right down to the pitying look in his eyes. He's always been the more observant twin.

You don't want to hear it.

Fred won't let go no matter how much you fidget. You pick at your nails until red pools at the edges of your cuticles. The sting prickles at your eyes.

"Hey." Fred's attention snaps to you suddenly. "What's the matter, lovie? You feeling alright?"

Fucking hell. He must be doing it on purpose, surely. Your throat burns.

"Nothing," you croak. "I'm okay."

It's just convincing enough for him to leave it, though you're half sure you'll be questioned later.

He smears a kiss to the crown of your head before he stands and it almost finishes you off.

That boy is going to be the death of you.

[bywonyo]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ᭄᭡ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ROMANCE AND LOATHE 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗎𝗌 , 𝖻𝗎𝗍 𝗂 𝗄𝗂𝗇𝖽𝖺 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗒 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗎𝗌

PREC𝒾S getting stuck in the office elevator with your most hated colleague left you red-faced and him with multiple kiss marks in your favorite lipstick shade on his neck.

노래 추천해줘 jake x fem reader enemies to lovers fluff suggestive office au 𝟭𝟮𝟲𝟱 making out tension use of profanity ｡｡ MES OUEVRES

• 𝒾f enjoyed, please 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱

As soon as you laid eyes on the man you despise most, a rush of pure anger and loathing overwhelmed you. He strolled into the elevator with his typical arrogant smirk, the same one he always used to anger you.

You folded your arms tightly across your chest and shot Jake a fierce glare, to which he responded with an equally intense look. From the moment both of you stepped into the workplace, you and Jake seemed to clash, and your initial encounter did nothing to help bond you two.

You remember rushing inside the building because you were late and you bumped into him, unfortunately spilling your coffee all over his suit. You tried to apologize but that arrogant jerk just gave you a nasty look and walked away.

From that moment forward, a fierce rivalry ignited between you and Jake, setting the stage for strict competition and ongoing conflict.

It seems like despite everyone's efforts, it's impossible to repair the relationship between you and Jake. Regardless of the attempts made by your boss and colleagues to make peace between you two, conflicts and arguments always seem to arise between you and Jake.

But your attention is suddenly drawn back to reality by the sound of a deep Australian voice coming from beside you.

“Geez, why are you always zoning out? You’re probably thinking about me, aren't ya?” Jake had a flirty grin on his face, obviously taunting you. Even though Jake was really attractive, more than you want to admit, he was still a jerk.

“Oh, please, you’re the one always begging for my attention” Jake tightened his jaw as he gazed at your raised eyebrows, your teasing expression goading Jake to react.

“I do not beg for your attention. Stop being ridiculous” You let out a small laugh in response to his defensive tone, but as you remembered who you were speaking to, your smile vanished quickly.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say” As you were just about to step out of the elevator, you were startled by a sudden, intense shaking that caused your heart to skip a beat out of fear.

Jake appeared to be intimidated as he swiftly grasped the railing of the elevator, his face contorted with a frightened expression.

“No, no, no, this cannot be fucking happening” In a state of concern, you quickly reached for the help button, expressing your worry.

Ever since you were a child, you have been haunted by the fear of this precise moment. Your hands tremble as you repeatedly press the help button, seeking reassurance and support.

Upon hearing a voice coming through the speaker, you experienced a rush of relief.

“H-hello? Anyone t-there?” The speaker's words were interrupted by frequent cuts, making it difficult for you to understand what the rescue team was saying.

“The elevator is stuck, please help me immediately”

Jake coughed, an offended expression crossed his face, causing you to roll your eyes in response. “Please help us, immediately”

‘We are heading there as fast as we can, this will take about an hour” You stood there in horror as the voice behind the speaker turned quiet.

“Son of a bitch!” You slammed your hand against the elevator wall in frustration, momentarily forgetting that Jake was standing right next to you until you heard his familiar voice.

“Take a deep breath, m’lady, we’ll be fine” The endearing nickname caused a slight flutter in your heart, but you immediately shot Jake a glare, while he looked back at you with an amused expression.

“I can't believe I have to be stuck with you for an hour, this is a nightmare” In a dramatic fashion, you dramatically slammed your face, causing Jake to scoff in response.

“Stop being so dramatic, you’ve probably fantasized about this before” You dismissed his playful comment with a hint of amusement and defensively crossed your arms.

“You wish, I would never date a jerkface like you”Jake laughed in reply as he took a step closer to you, his eyes crinkling with competitiveness.

“You know I just watched this movie, this is exactly what happened between the main character and the love interest” With a raised eyebrow, he approached you slowly, causing you to back up until your back met the wall.

“D-don’t tell me that you watch rom-coms, Sim” You stumbled over your words while attempting to imitate Jake, which made you feel flustered and embarrassed.

“Hm, you know what happens next tho?” With a mischievous smile, he hums a tune while looking at you with a hint of flirtation in his eyes.

“He held the girl's face” Jake gently lifted your chin with his fingers, prompting you to look up and meet his gaze.

As you caught sight of Jake's earnest gaze, you felt a sudden tightness in your chest. In that rare moment, a sense of tranquility enveloped you and Jake, allowing for a peaceful silence to settle between you.

“Then he held her face closer” Jake had a calm tone to his voice, moving your face closer to his. You felt his hot breath against your face as you gazed into his eyes softly. There wasn't any hatred in them, just pure love and sincerity.

Your heart pounded in your chest as your mind felt foggy, leaving you completely disoriented. Despite the confusion, you were determined to stay put, not wanting to ruin the moment.

“Then he kissed her” As he completed his sentence, he swiftly drew your face towards his, and your lips met in an intense kiss. He wrapped his arms around your head and waist, while you clung to his shoulders, drawing each other as close as possible.

As you both continued to make out, your bodies were entwined, with your breaths steady and your heartbeats quickening.

As he held you tightly, he carefully balanced on the elevator railing, making sure to keep a firm grip on your hand with his left hand.

You know it might not have been the best decision. If word got out about what went down between the two of you, the entire building would be buzzing with gossip.

But you couldn't bring yourself to worry about that. At that moment, it felt like everything else faded into the background, leaving only Jake in your line of sight. Time felt like it was slipping away as both of you found yourselves caught up in the moment, your minds racing and losing all sense of the passing hours.

As the two of you were lost in your moment, you two were abruptly jolted back to reality by the sound of a knock on the elevator door and a voice calling out from the other side.

“Oy!! Is anyone in there?” The search and rescue team shouted loudly, causing both of you to react with panic, quickly releasing each other.

As you smoothed down your hair and adjusted the fall of your dress, Jake straightened his suit and pushed his glasses up his nose. You both stepped out of the elevator and in a moment of awkwardness, you found yourself coughing.

As you both gaze at each other once more, you notice that Jake's neck is adorned with kiss marks from your lipstick, causing your cheeks to flush with embarrassment.

With a final wink, Jake exits the building, leaving you feeling flustered and bewildered by his sudden departure.

“See ya soon, m’lady” As you observed him silently mouthing his words, you stood there feeling a mix of confusion and anger, coming to the realization that you had just intentionally kissed the man you despised the most.

[sisyphus-hye]

Love is Nothing

A/N- Cruel femdom Wony

Wonyoung had always been the more dominant one in the relationship, but she had never thought to take it this far. Wonyoung knew deep down she was always out of her boyfriend, Thomas' league. He was a rich, shy, kind-hearted, and nerdy guy. In contrast, Wonyoung was the life of the party, confident, and a queen that could control his life with just the point of a finger. She knew she could do anything and he would still be by her side.

One evening, after a particularly nasty argument, she decided to push the boundaries. She knew he was feeling insecure, and she figured that a little degradation might knock him down a peg. So, she began to belittle him, saying things that she knew would sting, watching the color drain from his face as each word sank in. "You know something Thomas? You're so weak," she sneered, her eyes gleaming with a sadistic satisfaction. "I could have any man I want, and yet here you are, groveling at my feet."

Wonyoung starts to mock her boyfriend's crying, which only makes Thomas shrink further into himself. She saunters closer, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor, a cruel smirk playing on her lips as she reaches down to grab his chin, forcing him to look up at her. "You're pathetic," she whispers, her voice dripping with disdain. "But you know what? I think it's time I change things around here."

With a sudden jolt of strength, she yanks him to his feet and pushes him against the nearest wall. The impact echoes through the room, and Thomas' eyes go wide with shock and fear. He tries to protest, but she's already got her hand over his mouth, her grip so tight that he can feel the imprint of her fingers against his skin. "You know the IVE members all make fun of you, right? They laugh at how nerdy you are, how you let me walk all over you," she says, her voice a mix of sweetness and spite. "They know I'm with you, not out of love, but only because all that money you have."

Thomas' eyes fill with tears, his heart racing as she releases his mouth. He gasps for air, but before he can respond, she's speaking again. "But you know what they don't know? That you're not just a pushover. You're my little toy, and I can play with you however I like." She runs her other hand down his chest, the tips of her nails barely grazing his skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. "How about you get on your fucking knees for me?"

Thomas' knees buckle under the weight of her words and the force of her push. He hits the floor hard, his glasses clattering beneath him. The cold floor feels like ice under his knees, a stark contrast to the heat rising in his cheeks. He looks up at her, eyes pleading, but she only laughs. "That's more like it," she says, her voice a mix of mockery and lust.

Wonyoung looks down on Thomas like the bitch that he is, "I've been meaning to tell you something," she says with a smirk, "You remember that world tour we had? Well on the stop in Atlanta I had a stop at a Hawks basketball game. That's where I met these two nice black gentlemen who came with me back to my hotel room, and you know what they did to me?" She laughs, watching the horror spread across Thomas' face as he tries to piece together the story. "They treated me like a whore. They completely dominated me, used me, and filled me with their seed. And guess what? I liked it."

Thomas' eyes widened, and his mouth went dry. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You…you cheated on me?" he stammers.

Wonyoung laughs, a high-pitched sound that sends chills down his spine. "Oh, Thomas. It wasn't just once. And they weren't just anyone. They were our hired security guards for the rest of the toor, and they knew exactly how to handle a bitch like me." She leans down, her breath hot on his face, her words a cruel taunt. "Every single day and night they had access to my skinny, hot body. While you were texting me and calling me like a lost child telling me you missed me and how you couldn't wait for me to be safe on tour, I was in the hotel room, backstage, or even in some bathroom getting tossed around."

But Wonyoung isn't done. She presses her heels harder against his cock and balls, watching with amusement as he tries to stifle a whimper. Thomas' body feels like it's been hit by a wave of nausea, and he's not sure if it's from the pain in his groin or the betrayal in his heart. "You're so pathetic," she says, her voice dripping with disdain. "You can't even satisfy me with this tiny thing." The emotional and physical pain making him feel even more emasculated. "You know what they had that you don't?" she asks, her voice a low purr. "They had the confidence and the size to satisfy me. Anything they wanted, I gave it to them. They wanted my pussy, they had it. They wanted my ass, they had that too. And when they were done with me, they didn't bother to clean me up. They left me a sticky mess until I got my energy back to clean myself up. Hell, they fucked me so good one night I had to get Gaeul to lick me clean."

Thomas' mind reels as he tries to process her words. He's always felt inadequate compared to the men Wonyoung talked about from her past, but to hear her speak so openly about her infidelity and her preferences for other men is like a knife twisting in his gut. "But…but I thought we had something special," he whispers, his voice barely audible.

"That's you're problem there. You're not a thinker Thomas. You're a doer. And right now, I want you to do something for me," Wonyoung says, her voice dripping with malice. She reaches down and grabs his tie, pulling him closer so that their faces are mere inches apart. "Tonight, I'm going to an industry party tonight with Yujin and our company is counting on her and I to entertain these disgust, old, rich men so that they'll invest in IVE's next comeback. I'm bringing Yujin back with me and when we get home, I want you to clean us up. You're going to lick us both clean of their filth. You got it, my little bitch boy?" She says with a sadistic smile.

[novaursa]

https://youtu.be/3eWKe9PN5dw?si=uWC8yLUbdfLLCdXb

Can you make this one to in your serie with Rheagar and his sister/wife? 👀 #fireandgoldserie

Fire and Gold (the innocent)

- Summary: Rhaegar chooses you over her. And Ceresi never forgives you for it.

- Pairing: sister!reader/Rhaegar Targaryen

- Rating: Explicit 18+ (just to be safe)

- Previous part: 2

- Next part: the spider's offer

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

- A/N: Again, context matters. I can only guess what you wanted based on the provided link. HOTD is a different world from GOT (and an entirely different universe from ASOIAF books). Without more information provided I'm in the dark.

The Red Keep is in chaos. You can hear the screams, the echoes of horror reverberating through the stone halls, the distant clash of steel as guards and servants rush in a frenzy. But all you see is blood. Crimson stains the floor, splattered in grotesque patterns, soaking into the hem of your gown as you kneel, trembling. You cradle the small, limp body in your arms, your fingers trembling as they brush through his hair. His eyes, once bright and curious, now stare lifelessly at the vaulted ceiling above. Your child. Your sweet boy. Gone.

You can barely breathe, the weight of your grief suffocating you. Rhaegar is beside you, his face stricken, eyes red and hollow. His hand rests on your shoulder, the grip tight enough to bruise, as if anchoring himself to you, to this dreadful reality. His tears mix with yours as he pulls you close, burying his face in your hair, his sobs breaking through the shock.

"How did this happen?" he chokes out, his voice thick with anguish. He looks up at the assembled Kingsguard, his gaze blazing with fury and despair. "Where were you?"

Ser Barristan steps forward, his white cloak stained red at the edges. "Your Grace, we—" But his voice falters, the usual calm shattered.

You lift your gaze, the room spinning around you. Every breath feels like fire in your lungs, every heartbeat a dagger twisting in your chest. The guards stand in a circle, faces pale, eyes averted. Except one.

Jaime Lannister shifts uncomfortably, his gaze flitting to the side as if he can’t bear to look at you, or the child you hold. His hands are clenched at his sides, knuckles white against the steel of his armor. There’s something in his eyes—a flicker of guilt, a shadow of unease—that catches your attention, even through the haze of your grief.

Your mind drifts back, unbidden, to that night nearly a year ago. The night of your royal tour. The confrontation after your eldest wounded hers, Cersei’s voice sharp and venomous as she hurled her accusations, her jealousy like a blade cutting through the air. You remember the glint of steel, the sudden pain, the scar it left on your arm—a wound you’d thought would be the worst of it. But now… now it’s this, a deeper, more grievous wound that will never heal.

King Aerys’s voice cuts through your thoughts, a roar of rage that shakes the very foundations of the keep. He storms into the room, eyes wild, hair unkempt, his fury a palpable force. “Who did this? Who killed my grandson?” His gaze sweeps over the room, manic and dangerous, before it settles on Jaime, and for a moment you think he knows, that he sees what you do.

“Your Grace, I—” Jaime begins, but the king silences him with a gesture, a flick of his hand that sends a servant sprawling as he seizes a burning torch from the wall.

“I’ll have their heads!” Aerys screams, his voice breaking with the weight of his grief. “All of them! The traitors, the murderers—burn them all!”

Rhaegar stands, drawing himself up to his full height, his presence a stark contrast to the king’s frenzied wrath. “Father, please,” he says, his voice strained but steady. “We must find out what happened. We must—”

“Find out?” Aerys spits, his eyes blazing. “It was that Lannister bitch, wasn’t it?” He waves the torch wildly, and the guards flinch back. “Always scheming, always whispering in her father’s ear. And you,” he snarls, turning on Jaime. “Where were you, golden boy? Where were you when my blood was spilled?”

Jaime’s face is a mask of stone, but his eyes—those eyes, shifting and evasive, tell a different story. He swallows hard, glancing at you, and in that moment, something cold and sharp twists in your heart. There’s a truth there, hidden and ugly, that you can’t yet grasp, but you will. By the gods, you will.

You look down at your child’s face, his features so peaceful, so wrong in their stillness. You press a kiss to his forehead, your tears falling onto his cheeks, mingling with the blood. You don’t look up as Rhaegar kneels beside you again, his arms wrapping around you both, his sobs quiet now, broken.

“When I find who did this,” you whisper, your voice raw and ragged, “they will burn.”

You feel Jaime’s gaze on you, sharp and almost pleading, but you don’t look at him. You can’t. Not yet. Not until you have proof, not until you can make good on the vow that’s already forming in your heart.

Rhaegar tightens his hold on you, his lips brushing your hair, his breath warm against your skin. “We will find them,” he promises, his voice trembling but fierce. “I swear it, Y/N. We will.”

The Red Keep is still in chaos, the screams and cries echoing through the halls, but here, in this small, blood-soaked corner, there is only the three of you—mother, father, and the child you have lost. You hold him close, your tears endless, and you know, with a terrible certainty, that nothing will ever be the same again.

[skzdarlings]

deleted scene ; sharing a bed with lee know

original sharing a bed one-shot with lee know.

author's note: this is incredibly random, but this is a deleted scene from the lee know instalment of the sharing a bed series. it got cut when i decided to start the story after their big fight rather than show the build-up, but this scene was really cute and i always missed it lol so i am randomly posting it now.

content info: just fluff, some reader crying, and minho being secretly whipped.

word count: 890 words.

-

“Oh no!” 

Minho looks at you over the top rim of his glasses, his mouth full of food.  His phone falls forgotten on the wooden table.

Pouting, you push your salad towards him. 

“They put in the red onion,” you say with more misery than a salad miscommunication warrants.  Much to your horror and his immense bemusement, tears fill your eyes.  “I said no onion.” 

He chokes on his food, trying to swallow quickly so he can talk.  You wipe a stray tear while he hacks into a napkin.  His own eyes are now watery from his spontaneous pork-induced brush with death, but he reaches across the picnic table to wipe your face first.  He’s Minho so it’s more of a gentle slap on each cheek, but you take it with gratitude. 

“It’s okay,” he says, firmly but carefully.  Your behaviour is probably confusing him as you are notoriously composed and pragmatic by nature, so red onion is the last thing he would expect you to cry about.   “Just ask for another one.”  

“I can’t,” you say with a wobbly bottom lip.  You shove the salad further away like a petulant child.  “The line is too long now.  We don’t have time to wait for our turn then wait for them to make a new one.  We have to be back on the highway in no less than twenty minutes or else we aren’t going to beat the rush, and if we don’t beat the rush then we could be late getting to the camp site, and then we could lose our reservation. And I can’t eat this salad because the onion is so strong that it overwhelms everything else.   It’s fine.”   

It’s fine.  It’s fine.  Just one more thing gone wrong this week.  You didn’t cry about the guy.  You didn’t cry about the job.   You are crying about the red onion.  It’s fine.  

Minho takes off his reading glasses as if looking at you directly will help him make sense of your nonsense.  He doesn’t say anything, just stares with his dark brows knit together.  Wisps of dyed blonde hair and their darker roots flutter under the circle of his backwards cap, a cool wind brushing over your picnic spot. 

Of course the weather sucks too.  You and your best friend finally have a shared weekend off and you decided to go camping, so of course it’s been overcast and grey for the whole drive so far. 

Of course the rest stop cafeteria put red onion in your salad. 

“Okay,” Minho says after a minute of just staring at you.  He mutely slides his plate toward you and takes your salad for himself.  When you try to protest, he threatens you with a plastic knife.   “Eat,” he says, pointing to the dish with the knife.  He digs into the salad without further commentary, returning his glasses to his face and picking up his phone to keep reading. 

You stare despondently at the dish for a moment.  Then that bottom lip wobbles more, and more, and more, then suddenly—

Minho drops his phone again, startled when you burst into tears.

“Ahh,” he says, reaching for you with both hands this time.  He tries to reach past your fingers to cup your face, but you are rubbing your eyes and also bouncing with your hiccups.   He eventually gets a semi-stable grip of your chin, thumb pressing hard to tug your face to his when you look away.   “Baby,” he says, “what the fuck?” 

“I’m s-s-sorry,” you say, still hiccupping.  “You just l-l-love me so mu-u-uch!”

“Um,” he says, frowning.  “Sorry.  Here.”  He swaps your plates back.  “I hate you.  Fucking bitch.  Eat your fucking onion salad.” 

You laugh in spite of yourself.  It coaxes you out of hiding, your tear-streaked face turning to his willingly. 

Minho can be loud and goofy, and he’s something of a lunatic around his guy friends, but you and him have always had a quiet, easy friendship.  You are the epitome of regimented and organized, not to mention the very definition of introverted, but he’s so easy-going that your flow as a duo has always been seamless.   You can sit together for hours in silence and not feel awkward once.  His presence alone brings you comfort.  He has seen many sides of you over the years.  Annoyed, happy, content, frustrated, disappointed.  You frown a lot.  You don’t tend to overreact. 

Bawling your eyes out is a new one. 

“I’m fine,” you say with a sigh. 

“Oh, well, if you’re fine,” he says dryly, picking up his phone and pretending to return to it. 

When you giggle, he smiles just that bit, putting the phone down again.  He is clearly out of his element as you seldom require active solace in any sense of the word, so he just sits there flexing his hand and staring at you. 

“Should I… kill them?” he asks uncertainly, pointing over his shoulder to the food stand. 

You laugh again, the sound still a bit shaky.   You shake your head. 

“Are you sure?” Minho asks.  “We could probably run them over on our way out.” 

“Thank you,” you say.  “I’m fine.  I guess I’m just a bit worked up.”

“Hmm.”  He switches your plates again, giving you his food.  “Try being worked down for a bit.” 

“Okay,” you say with a snort.  “I will. Thanks.”

He smiles a little smile, the kind reserved just for you. He looks satisfied he has done his job for now.

You can't help but smile back.

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

if gods exist, they made you perfect

cw. fem!reader, childhood friend au, ace novel spoilers (1st novel), pre-relationship, mutual pining, hurt/comfort, light mentions of child abuse (garp), brief loss in ace's ability to control his powers, reader receives a minor burn

pairing. portgas d. ace x reader

synopsis. not everyone is going to reach for ace's hand but you always will.

notes. a very indulgent idea that has been living rent free in my head since i've had it and now it is your problem. cover comes from frederic edwin church's twilight in the wilderness (1860). blazing red skies and ace simply go hand in hand.

"The Five Elders are gonna have the biggest bitch fit to ever fit," with how Ace blinks up at you in surprise, he must have been really lost in his thoughts. You broaden your smile as you plop down right next to him. "I don't think anyone's ever turned down a Warlord position before. Can't wait to see how your bounty goes up this time."

Ace snorts lightly at your words, lips stretching into half a grin, "yeah, they are not going to like that."

"It definitely doesn't help you kicked that vice admiral's ass, either," you recall the events of your final moments in Sabaody. A definitive mixed bag of.

It was a beautiful country, that much is easy to say. Still it came with more than you were prepared to witness. It's only luck there hadn't happened to be any visiting Celestial Dragons coinciding with your temporary residency. Somehow you have the feeling that things would have surely been messier if their had been.

The stint with Vice Admiral Draw will be messy enough on its own.

"Garp's gonna be so mad when he finds out," Ace shudders at even your mention of his grandfather and you snicker. "What if he comes to Fishman Island for one of his grand lectures?"

"Don't even joke like that," the back of his orange hat thumps against the side of the Spadille with his groan of horror. "I can feel his Fists of Love right now."

You feel the phantom pain yourself. If you're both lucky, the semi-retired marine is busy visiting Luffy on Dawn Island. Maybe it's not that lucky though. It isn't the first time the thought the man is even harsher on Luffy now that Ace has gone ahead and sworn his life to piracy surfaces. It's a thought you push away as quickly as you have it.

Luffy's a strong kid, he's fine.

He has a spirit that is unbreakable.

"That Draw guy deserved to get his ass beat anyway." There is no disagreement to be had with your statement, Ace murmuring something similar. He's a million miles away from where you are, however, miraculously sat on a ship sailing beneath the waves. "Isuka'll be fine," you say suddenly, cursing your inability to ease into the topic gently. "She's strong and she was on our ass since immediately after we got to the Grand Line. She'll be back to chasing us soon enough."

Hopefully.

It isn't something you can say with resolute faith.

The ensign's sense of reality itself had been shattered in its entirety. Being betrayed by the one you believed to be your savior is nothing easy to overcome. You choose to believe a woman as impassioned as the naval officer will. You won't pretend to know where she'll head next.

Perhaps she'll embark on a path that leads her back to the marines. Or maybe she'll become a bounty hunter.

Wherever her journey takes her, you can only hope it is a path with no regrets.

"It would have been weird having a bounty hunter on the ship, anyway," you clumsily attempt to soothe your friend. There is irony in how Ace became your better in terms of comforting those around you when he had been the most argumentative and unfriendly between you. "That sounds like something Luffy would do."

At the sound of Luffy's name, Ace's lips do quirk into something more real. "Yeah, that kid would invite just about anyone on his crew, bounty hunters included."

You chuckle trying to visualize what the young boy's recruitment process will be. Somehow, you doubt his prospective crewmates will have much say in the matter. "Knowing Luffy, they'll probably want to join anyway though. He's convincing like that."

"Yeah," Ace only falls deeper into his thoughts. The silence that follows is even more glum than the depths. Damn it, you curse yourself.

You've never been like Makino, you recall the kind-hearted woman from your youth. She's always been gentle, dove-like in her approach when it came to matters of the heart. Knew exactly the words someone needed to hear and knew exactly how to say it in a way that didn't feel intrusive to the recipient.

That has certainly never been you. If anything, you're more akin to Dadan and her rough expressions of affection.

You hold back a sigh, closing your eyes.

"Alright, I guess this is how we're doing this," you open your eyes at last. Shuffling, you face your friend who makes a sound of surprise at your movement. You aren't a delicate person nor are you someone with the ability to handle matters of the heart with the delicacy it deserves. It's best to handle it clumsily, the only way you know how. "Ace, the stuff with Isuka; that wasn't your fault. And it isn't on you that she didn't want to come with us."

Isuka liked Ace.

It's impossible not to like him.

Even when he was a brat with more anger at the world than he knew what to do with, you liked him. Thought he was the coolest person you'd ever met in your short 10 years of living and wanted him to like you back. You like him even now.

Everyone in the crew joined because they liked Ace the moment they met him. He's darling in how effortless he makes it.

Even a marine as firm in her beliefs as Isuka couldn't let prejudice cloud her judgement when it came to Portgas D. Ace. Begrudging as it may have been, there has always been a mutual admiration for each other in spite of the opposing occupations.

You're like the sun. Equal parts the harsh rays of summer and the gentle beams of early spring. He's whichever the moment calls for. A warmth everyone wants to experience if they're lucky enough to come across it. The gravitational pull of the universe that keeps the planets in the sun's orbit. You're amazing!

"I don't know what the hell that girl needs," rough as the sentence is, your voice is soft. "But whatever it is, she wasn't going to find it with us. That's why she didn't come."

Ace opens his mouth but you don't give him the chance to argue or sweep your concerns away.

"I'm not gonna sit here and lie to your face and say that this won't happen again," it's an ugly truth. One Ace became aware of long before you met him. Regardless, as much as you hate it, you know it'd be unfair to lie to him. "Because it probably will. There's always going to be people who, no matter how hard you reach for them, they aren't going to reach back. And you can't do jack about it.

Hell, sometimes you can't even do jill. But," Ace's brow furrows in time with your words and your heart wrenches. "But," you start once more, the back of your fingers brushing against his wrist. "for every person that won't, there's going to be someone that does." You cup one of Ace's hands in both of yours with all the care one would give glass.

When did these hands get so much bigger than your own?

Still, you lips curl upwards in your nostalgia, the warmth that radiates from him remains the same. You squeeze gently, almost afraid that if you touch him too hard, he'll break.

"And I know for a fact there are a lot of people who are always going to want to hold your hands. Even if the shit does turn into fire," you chuckle at your quick addendum and despite himself, Ace does too. You've always loved hearing him laugh, it's even better when you're the cause. "The crew. Dadan. Magra. Dogra. Luffy," you squeeze again, your thumb carressing the back of his hand. "Me. We love these hands, they're yours."

There's a spark of something in Ace's eyes you can't quite place and it's unexpectedly hard to look him in the eye for some reason. "Heh," you laugh breathlessly. Without meaning to, your grip tightens around his hand. It's warm.

Really warm.

Shit, it's actually getting kinda hot ain't it?

You see the flicker of orange and your and Ace's expressions are well-matched in panic as you realize the source. Sure enough, your hands were engulfed flames.

"Shit-" Ace swears but despite instinct dictating you back away from the flames, you find yourself holding on to staunchly.

"Shit-" you fight against Ace's attempt to pull away from you as the flames die down. "[First]! Let go!"

"No way, what did I just say?!" Oh god this hurts like hell! "I don't care if it's fire, I'm not letting go!"

You hiss through your teeth, reeling yourself in with a breath but the flames are extinguished as quickly as they erupted. "Wasn't exactly expecting to prove my point so fast but," there's another attempt on Ace's part to pull away from you again but you only hold his hand tighter. You can ignore the sting of your hands but you can't ignore the way Ace's eyebrows knit together. You can't ignore how he looks like he wants to cry either. "See," you laugh breathlessly. "I love these hands, there's no way I'm never gonna hold them.

Dark eyes, wide, look between you and your face and you squeeze his hand again. The sting of your palms is prevalent but this pain is fine. Pain is merely proof that you are alive in this moment; and in this moment there is nowhere else you want to be.

There's nothing more that needs to be said between you, you believe. Facing him, you lean against the wood as you hold Ace's hand firmly between your own. With the hand he has available, Ace slides his hat down to hide whatever expression he's making.

You close your eyes with a sigh and pretend you don't hear the sound of hiccuping. You don't feel the way his hand trembles either.

You squeeze Ace's hand and he squeezes back.

Your hands sting something sweet.

[mellowwillowy]

Back at Yan! Bishop vs Yan! Preacher agenda (GN)

CW: Somnophilia, tentacles (Eldritch horror), asphyxiation

Yan! Preacher who is just a walking menace, he is much more of a demon than a man of holy scriptures, always teaching you entirely false things.

Yan! Preacher who won't hesitate to pull Yan! Bishop's leg for shits and giggles, a hand that lingers on you longer than intended, a lip that is so threateningly close to yours, and a knee pressed down on your crotch by the church altar.

Yan! Bishop who is almost always fuming in anger whenever such indecencies are shown, chiding hands and lips get close to you as he yanks you close to him instead. Despite the vein that popped out of his skin, he could never get angry with you.

Yan! Preacher who enjoys the little cat and mouse game thoroughly with both you and him, ready to end the game whenever he feels so.

Yan! Bishop who will resort to restricting you from meeting the preacher, even going as far as installing locks on your bedroom.

Yan! Bishop who loves you dearly to the point he’s ready to burn the full ache he gets from looking at you sticking around the Preacher, so much that forbidden magic is imbued on the locks.

"Quite the nice locks there, huh? These would burn if I ever lay my fingers on it, no?"

"Then I suggest you not try your hand on it or them lest I decide to burn you myself."

Noel frowned at the way Caelus leaned onto the door to your bedroom casually, as though challenging him to do so. As much as the locks would burn him, it would only amount to tripping him but never making him fall.

At that statement, the bishop raised one of his eyebrows, "Pardon?"

"Done locking it? If so, I think it's time for you to scram."

"The same can be said of you, what are you waiting for?"

"The same as you."

The golden-eyed man flashed him a toothy grin that reached his eyes, "Think I'd never catch your tail? How many times have you worshipped them to the point you copulate with them?"

Noel twitched at his remarks. As though he was remarked to be a mutt in heat, he could also not deny the fact that he had done something unpardonable.

Caelus rounded his way toward Noel and gave his shoulder a squeezing pat, "I'd also rather not sit idly waiting for you to leave just to get my fair share of play."

With a flick of a wrist, the Preacher's finger was imbued with a glowing magic that allowed him to break the locks. Caelus nodded in gratitude for the undoing, "But when it comes to exorcising, I suppose having a lending hand won't hurt."

"Your point is?"

The Preacher smiled at his words, "I'd say we enjoy this together, I won't do anything with your little adoration game to my doll though I must say, sharing is never my forte..."

—

It felt vivid. Within your dreamscape, you could feel something rocking you yet in an oddly pleasurable way. Ghost of fingers and tongues that felt your skin to a dull ache between your legs.

"Didn't I tell you to not fuck like a bitch in heat?" Noel chided the other, failing to keep his wording proper when his cock was snuggled deep inside your mouth, tip twitching just from the rumble of your throat when Caelus managed to hit the right spot.

"Shut it, fraud." Caelus hissed in gritted teeth as he angled you to take his cock even deeper, "𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦�� 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴, can't you hear those little whimpers they make for me?"

As much as he'd like to give his fair face a punch, Noel couldn't help but acknowledge the fact that you two were never an item. But so were you and Caelus!

"Then I have the right to say the same too." Noel's eyes fell on your sex, his fingers trailed from your navel to it, feeling the warmth it emitted before working on it, earning yet another whimper from you that made him jerk his hips unwillingly.

"Ooh~? Pretty boy is having a hard time?"

"Shut it-" Noel clasped his mouth with the back of his hand, his hips snapping backward and forward, chasing his own climax albeit gently in a sense. Just as the Bishop's mind was clouded in lust, his red orbs focused on your face, the Preacher took his chance to manipulate your dream into a picture of reality.

"Hm..." His hand traveled to your neck, holding the rosary tightly for a moment before snapping his hips hard and fast.

Caelus couldn't manipulate it even just for a 1/3, let alone entirely. It was not a pleasant fact knowing that he wasn't in charge of the situation alas he could only unravel his displeasure into you.

His finger grazed the rosary as he muttered out a spell, his other hand rested on Noel's back before imbuing it with magic, pushing Noel toward you abruptly.

"Hkh-! What in the world are you-" Just before Noel could elbow him, the rosary tightened around your neck, causing you to groan and sending a wave of pleasure toward Noel's cock that was nuzzled deep in your throat now.

Noel's eyes were trained to the ominous threat yet his mind just could not stop causing him to rut into you, desperate for a release. And release did he have it, the idea of it trickling down through your trachea in ease made him shiver.

"Wh-what? Shit, can't pull it out."

"Hm? I never knew the Bishop enjoys molesting his followers like this, bruising their throat and getting off from it." The Preacher snarked at him, his pace remained steady as shadows of tentacles glowered into an image.

The rosary fell loose, allowing Noel to pull out and adore the mess he had done. His finger went to wipe the stain he left before he gave your lip a soft kiss, causing the other entity to roll his eyes.

"How uncivilized."

"More like you're the uncivilized one here with how foul your methods are..."

"I'm not a mirror you know."

"Done being lovey dovey? If so, you ought to scram, I need space."

Noel raised one of his eyebrows before he saw the shadow again. Numerous tentacles appeared out of the shadow and folded you into a mating press, ankles placed by your ears.

"You-!" Noel's hand was swung into motion as he tried to imbue it with magic yet nothing would come out, causing Caelus to chortle at his attempt.

"You are doing great in controlling their dream but that's just as far as you can go. Abuse more power and you might just set yourself on fire instead." As much as Noel was capable of doing so, he knew that he was not on the same level when it came down to magic with Caelus.

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘩 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘭𝘭.

Caelus hummed out an ancient lullaby you had always enjoyed hearing him sing, his rutting rocking you back and forth like a baby in a cradle being rocked back and forth.

The tentacle threatened itself into your mouth, the suckers feeling your tongue before it entered deeper, and the other gave your neck a squeeze that was barely below crashing your windpipe.

Whimpers, or should Noel noted, choked sobs slipped past your filled mouth, and a single tear fell out of your heavily lidded eyes. Noel knelt down and his tongue went to lick it upward, savoring the saltiness before peppering your face with kisses as he hushed you down, his hand clasped against yours.

"You are doing great, shh... good... good..."

At the sight of your hand clasped with Noel's, Caelus's eyes flickered in disdain yet he held back his comment, lip turning downward and his pace started to turn into a bruising one, uncaring of whether you were pleasured or not.

If he could snap you out of your dream, he would. That way, just perhaps you would freak out and let go of Noel's hand, gripping the bedsheet tightly looked better if you were hesitant in holding his hand or tentacle.

The tentacles squeezed themselves harder against your neck, causing more tears to slip out and louder sobs to fall out. It did not bother Caelus in the slightest for he knew,

𝘛𝘩𝘦 '𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦' 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘢𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨.

A flash of you passed through his mind, snapping him out of his trance, and he bit his lip to the point it bled, his seed nestled deep inside you as his hip halted in place.

The tentacles retreated as he pulled himself out, and your body laid back properly as a dribble of cum leaked out of your abused hole. Noel's hand was still clasping yours as his now gleaming turquoise eyes locked with Caelus' golden orbs.

Two glowing eyes stared at each other in disdain, ready to strangle each other.

—

"Keep looking at me like that and I'll have you sent to Carcosa."

"And keep sticking around them and I'll have you burnt, monster."

You woke up to the birds chirping, opening your eyes as you adjusted your eyes to the light. You tried to sit up only to feel a dull ache in your hip. Weirded out, you slipped your feet into your slippers only to feel ached on your ankles,

"Wha-" You clasped your throat, it hurt when you tried to speak and your voice was hoarse.

Just what in the world had happened during your sleep? Setting worries aside, you were certain that both Noel and Caelus would have the answer for it.

Author’s Note:

Carcosa is a fictional city in Ambrose Bierce's short story "An Inhabitant of Carcosa" (1886)

While writing this, I have to make @thescribeoflostmemories helps me around with Caelus [one, because Caelus is half inspired by one of his OC so she knows his way around lol (also to not OOC his OC painfully <3)]

[warthogreporter]

The Human Fucker Community on Monster Tumblr: Christmas Special

🦇EVIL-Empoaroar👑 Follow

Update on my human hero step-son via seducing both parents: we had a nice bonding moment over a mutual hatred of bicyclists who think traffic laws don't apply to them and the like. Got him porn and a license to kill for Christmas. I think I'm getting the hang of this human dad thing.

(64,234 Notes)

Hooman-hugger🤗 Follow

Out of the way orc lover, I'm getting me some hussy.

Hooman-hugger🤗 Follow

Just learned that hussy is an actual word so it's not clear I was just doing the 'part of word + ussy' joke with humans. Wait maybe I can still save this.

Hooman-hugger🤗 Follow

Out of the way orc lover, I'm getting me some humussy.

(343,244 Notes)

Or-gir👹 Follow

Hey guys, what are human rights? The human I just snatched was saying something about how what I was doing was against it.

🦇EVIL-Empoaroar👑 Follow

They're not important, don't worry about it.

Or-gir👹 Follow

Got it, thanks.

🐉Dragevening Follow

Human rights are important. It's not right to just grab up humans and force them to love you.

Wish the human fucker community (tired of this name tbh) had more basic respect for human autonomy and interest in actual consensual relationships. They're not pets or cheap sex toys. The most rewarding parts of my human romances have been the quiet tender moments together just talking. But some of y'all don't seem to want any of that.

🐺 HereWolf Follow

Why would you say something so controversial yet so true?

🧛Vampy-Vevito Follow

But like if you hypnotize the human to be okay with it then it's not really a problem because now they're consenting to it.

🐺 HereWolf Follow

Most self aware vampire.

(982,344 Notes)

Bog-bitch🧙‍♀️Follow

Hey guys I know it's Christmas time but I got a great idea for a horror story.

Bog-bitch🧙‍♀️Follow

What if there was a sexy human you asked out, but they turned you down because they're in a h4h relationship and not into monsters. And their partner was bland as hell.

🐻 Beard-Toucher Follow

I'd scream and cry and never love or leave my home again. Either that or take out the collar.

(809 Notes)

🧝Elfeven Follow

Anti elf bigotry always gets so much more frustrating this time of year with the unfunny jokes about the toys and the north pole, but my human SO and their family hasn't done any of that and I'm really grateful for it.

(20 Notes)

Experience the original trilogy: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

[trippinsorrows]

looking through your eyes + five

authors note: soooo, i both hate and love this one. can't tell if i'm just being super hard on myself, but it feels flat and a bit boring, but i also know if i keep messing with it, i'll never feel wholly satisfied, so here is the best version i could come up with!

it does include more of roman's background though so....there's that at least lmao

if any cw/tw’s are missed, please let me know, and i will add them!

cw/tw: sexual harassment, language, violence, ptsd episode (dissociation, avoidance, breakdown), torture

song inspo: ‘looking through your eyes’ by leann rimes

words: 8k

Solana has come to the realization that training isn’t entirely awful.

Or maybe it’s the fact that along with training, she’s allowed the chance to socialize, to be around other people and learn to not be so nervous all of the time. Naomi is a great person for that, bubbly and naturally personable. She’s created such a welcoming space that has left Solana feeling less and less nervous.

A couple weeks into training, Solana also feels like she’s growing more comfortable in her learning. It’s still the very basics, a lot of focus on flexibility, but it feels good. It feels almost relieving to be able to learn certain skills and tips that she can use to maybe one day defend herself. 

To maybe one day be able to take care of herself.

Or maybe some dreams are just too big to wish for.

It’s the end of her session with Naomi, and Solana is in the women’s locker rooms, having just finished her shower. She’s in her head a bit, mentally going over what she’s going to make Roman for dinner.

He’s been gone more often than not the past couple weeks, and she’s torn on that. On one hand, it’s nice not to be around a man who she’s supposed to be figuring out a way to kill, a man whose presence alone creates an additional layer of anxiety on top of the pre-existing baseline that is her everyday anxiety 

But…..

But, there’s also a part of her that….that wouldn’t be too opposed if he was around more. Being alone in the big house also creates a space of anxiety. If…if he was present more, maybe she could learn how to interact with him.

Could learn him.

It’s this strange thought process that’s so confusing and almost overwhelming for her that it keeps her from noticing the pending danger lurking just steps away.

“Hey, Solana.”

Solana gasps loudly, spinning around, her eyes widening at Austin Theory who stands before her with that same predatory smile. She opens her mouth to scream, but she’s too slow. 

Austin backs her against the lockers and slaps his hand over her mouth. His other hand moves to pin her hands over her hand. Instantly, her heart is beating out her fucking chest, an intense weight of dread anchoring her down. 

Solana feels paralyzed. She is paralyzed. 

“Always so damn jumpy. All we wanna do is get to know you....”

It’s almost perfect timing when another man appears, Grayson. But, it’s when he sees Austin and Solana that he frowns, walking over, “man, what the hell are you doing?”

Austin rolls his eyes, laughing. “Come on, don’t be a little bitch. It’s just a little fun.”

“This isn’t funny, Austin. If Reigns finds out—”

“What the fuck is he gonna do, huh?” Austin scoffs, gaze returning back on Solana who has her eyes clenched shut, tears threatening to spill over. “And you’re not going to say anything to him anyway, are you?” 

Solana gasps, breathing uneven as Austin lowers his hand to tug on the knot of her towel just enough to loosen it but not enough to undo it. Regardless, it’s that one act that truly immobilizes her because she’s no longer standing before this man as a grown woman.

She’s that 12 year old little girl completely unaware of what night of horrors is about to be unleashed on her, the way an unspeakable act of evil perpetrated on an innocent child is going to lead her down a dark, depressing path.

And she’s frozen, frozen in time, forever stuck in that state of suffering. 

Grayson’s eyes fall on Solana, seeing that she’s almost no longer present, dissociating, and that seemingly freaks him out even more. He tugs on Austin’s shoulder. “You had your fun, mate. Let’s fucking go.”

Austin has never been one to listen to others. Ever. But in a testament to his cruelty, Solana’s lack of reaction, lack of struggling and displaying helplessness in front of him wanes the enjoyment. He doesn’t get off as much, doesn’t feel as empowered as he does by making people feel small.

So with a scoff and not an ounce of influence from Grayson in his ear, he releases her, stepping back with a smirk as she instantly moves her arms over her chest. 

“Relax, Mrs. Reigns.” She’s anything but, and it brings a smile to his face. It’s so fucking easy to get her unnerved. “Just messing with ya, that’s all.”

There’s more distant talking, snickering and combatting with someone speaking quietly but urgently. Solana can make out part of that as she gradually returns to a state of awareness. Enough to where she’s eventually cognizant of the fact that they’ve left, that she’s alone, that they no longer pose an immediate threat.

But, they do. They do, because what if they come back?

Chest still tightening, breathing still erratic, Solana rushes over to the door, shaking hands managing to shut it closed and locked. But, it’s not enough to just be alone, to know that no one can come in and try to hurt her. 

Because she still feels it.

Still feels hands on her, restricting her, bounding her, and it makes her sick.

Hand over her mouth, Solana does her best to push back the nausea, rushing over to the showers, turning the knob so that it’s at full strength. 

And heat too.

Shoving the towel off her body, she steps under the scalding water and grabs the soap, immediately scrubbing at her body. It’s unnecessary force, unnecessary heat, unnecessary altogether, but it’s the only thing that gives her a faux sense of comfort. She needs to wash the feeling of them off of her, scrub until her skin starts to look wrinkled and raw, her complexion tinging with redness from the heat of the water.

Eventually, the scrubbing stops feeling like enough. Nothing feels like enough, and she falls back against the wall of the shower, sliding down as she pulls her knees to her chest.

And she cries, the water blending seamlessly with the tears that filter out the drain in a way she wishes the heavy feelings wrecking her body would melt away.

Safe.....

It's a dream that she'll never achieve.

A wasted hope.

A lie.

—-----------

“The RKO proposal is pretty decent.” 

“But not good enough.” Roman’s dismissal is swift and to the point. “I want 75% of all profits.”

Rikishi presses his lips together, calmly reminding, “that’s gonna be a hard sell.” 

“Orton is desperate. He’s an imbecile who uses more products than he moves and is running Bob’s legacy into the ground.” Roman is a man who prides himself on always being on the up and up. He makes it his business to know what’s going on with all competitors and even partnerships. “He should consider my offer fucking mercy. 75% or nothing.”

Rikishi sits back in his chair, a proud smile growing on his face. “I’ve taught you well, Uce”

There’s a modicum of truth to his cousin’s words, but for the most part, Roman has learned more on his own than anything anyone could have ever taught him.

“What’s the status of the imports from Columbia?”

Jey leans forward, answering without pause. “Scheduled to arrive just on time, assuming nothing goes awry.”

“Who’s managing?”

“Tama.”

Roman nods. “It’ll be fine.” His distant cousin, Tama Tonga is a bit on the……eccentric side, but he’s never failed to see a successful shipment through from beginning to end.

“If…..” Paul’s low but firm voice enters the conversation, Roman’s lazy gaze falling on the man. “If I may, my Tribal Chief?” With the nod of approval from the Head of the Table, Paul clears his throat. “By my calculations, there’s a way for us to improve on the total time it currently takes for us to move product by over 40% with some minor….changes.”

Jimmy, who sits almost bored at the other side of the table, feet propped up, asks in a suspicion tone. “What kind of changes?”

Paul clears his throat. “If we were to have access to the Eastern harbor—”

At that, both Jimmy and Jey land eyes on their cousins head counsel. Jey is the first to speak though. “You know that’s Nightmare territory, correct?”

Paul’s voice is surprisingly calm. “I do.” A nervous set of blue eyes settle on the man who sits at the head of the table, the primary one who needs to be convinced of the possible benefits of what he’s about to suggest. “If we would just consider—”

“No.” Roman’s rejection is loud and echoes throughout the conference room. “How could you even fucking suggest that shit?”

“My Tribal Chief, if you could please hear out my—”

Roman’s fist banging against the table sends an alert to all members of this current meeting that the Tribal Chief word is final and unchanging. “I said…..no.” 

Rikishi shakes his head, thankful that a stern rejection is the extent of his cousin’s reaction. He can’t believe Paul could even be stupid enough to even suggest such a thing to Roman. Perhaps he could be swayed over to see the business and financial benefits, but Roman…..no, that history runs too deep and bleeds too much red for Roman Reigns to ever consider some sort of ceasefire or let alone alliance with The Nightmare Factory. 

“Well, that shit got awkward real fast,” Jey mutters, uncomfortable with the sudden shift in the atmosphere. Even if it makes all the sense in the world. “How about that marriage life?

Roman shuts his eyes. It’s jumping from one annoying topic to another. “What?”

“Man, Big Dog living good over there,” Jimmy’s smile is wide as he rubs his hands together. “Lil Soso can cook her ass off!”

“Stop calling her that.”

“Speaking of ass, she pregnant yet?”

This is why Roman didn’t want to get on this subject, because he knew where it would lead to, another road he’s not trying to go down right now.

Rikishi chimes in, “their delivery is trash, but the question is still fair. Is there a chance she’s pregnant?” A sly smile falls on his face as he teases, “I know you well enough, Uce, that I don’t need to remind you of the importance of trying.”

Jey snorts. “That ain’t never been a problem for any of us. Especially Roman. Man, I still don’t know how you don’t have a gaggle of lil mean mugging ass kids running around here.”

The answer is simple, and Roman expresses as such. “Because I know how to fucking use a condom unlike you idiots.”

“Hey. I don’t know what you talking about. All my kids by Nicki.”

“You say that like it’s a good thing.”

At that, Jey jumps out the chair, Jimmy rolling his eyes as Paul shakes his head and sighs heavily. “Ayo, you the Tribal Chief and everything, but you not gon’ keep disrespecting my wife like that, aight?”

“Where did you sleep last night, Jey?” Roman’s tone is both bored and knowing, especially as Jey’s gaze drops the same way his ass does right back in his seat. “That’s what I thought.”

“Just…” Rikishi’s voice is louder, allowing him to realign the conversation. “Keep us updated, Roman. When she does get pregnant, you’ll need to up her security.”

“I’m aware.” Just like he’s aware of the fact that unless this girl is the virgin fucking Mary and will have an immaculate conception, there’s no need to worry about that right now.

Or ever. 

His business phone lighting up with a familiar name across the screen is both a welcomed surprise as well as distraction for Roman. Without hesitation, he answers, watching the TV anchored on the wall light up.

Roman’s shoulder straightens as he leans back further into the soft Italian leather of his chair. “Dwayne.”

“Roman.” Dwayne removes the stereotypical dark glasses Roman always grew accustomed to seeing his cousin wear in any interaction. His smile beams. “Long time no fucking see, cousin.”

Roman shrugs, answering honestly, “been busy.” 

“I saw that. Congratulations on the marriage. An invite would have been fucking nice.”

At that, Roman chuckles, calling out his bluff. “Like you would have come.”

Dwayne’s laughter echoes through the office. “Fair.” He then greets the rest of the men present, though it’s a surprise to no one that his initial exchange is solely with Roman. They’ve always had a great bond, even better business partnership, hence the position Roman has placed him in. “You know why I’m calling though”

And there goes the ‘fun’ while it lasted. Straight into business with his big cousin. He respects it immensely though. Dwayne is all about profit and efficiency and ensuring the smoothness of operations. “The same reason you always reach out, cause it’s not that often.”

“It’s been a couple years, cousin….”

“I’m aware.” 

And he is. 

6 years, to be precise. 

“You need to fly out here.” Dwayne isn’t saying anything Roman doesn’t already know, hasn’t already heard. “They need to see your face.”

“They have you.”

Dwayne snorts. “They hate me almost as much as they hate you.” They being that other side of Roman’s family, the side that he could go on with the rest of his life without seeing or speaking to. The side that probably feels the same about him and his Tribal tattoos, long hair, and skin that is not like theirs. 

Yeah….hate is definitely the right word.

“Do you care?”

“Hell no.” The answer is surprising, unlike Dwayne’s next statement. “But, I do care when shit starts to get more openly disrespectful.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re becoming bolder with questioning your leadership. Less subtle. More direct.”

At that, Roman’s attention is fully captured. He sits up in his seat. “Is that so?”

The twins, Rikishi, and Paul all exchange knowing glances, having been wisely quiet to allow the Head of the Table to conduct business as he sees fit. But this, they all know where this is going.

“Maybe it is time I remind them who the fuck is in charge here.” As much as Roman loathes the idea of having to be around and interact with these fuckers, nothing vexes him more than having his authority challenged. 

Like he’s not the one, the two, and the three they’ve been looking for. 

“I’ll see about flying out within the next week.” 

Jey speaks up for the first time. “I can’t just leave on that short notice—”

“Did I say I needed you to come with me?” It’s a bit of a rhetorical question. “I can handle this on my own.”

As is his preference with most things, because in Roman’s opinion, most things are handled better and in the way that most pleases him when he does it himself. His expectations can only be set and maintained or exceeded by him.

“At least take Paul with you, Uce.” Rikishi suggests, and in the moment, it’s last thing he wants. Paul’s already pissed him off enough for the day. “They need to be straightened out, not taken out. Paul can help you keep that balance.”

Roman isn’t obstinate enough to disagree with that. Paul does have his uses, one of which being his ability to talk Roman down when the preference is to just kill motherfuckers the second he deems them annoying. 

And that’s not the goal for this trip.

Not yet, anyway.

“Fine. Wise Man and I will go.” There are far too many other things on Roman’s plate for him to push back on a plus one. This is immaterial to the larger picture. “Dwayne, start the preparations.”

“You got it, brotha’. I’ll keep in touch.” 

The screen goes dark as Dwayne ends the call. Roman reclines back in his chair, a mixture of muddy, dark, bleak emotions. The idea of having to be around his maternal family is quite literally sickening to him. He hates those sons of bitches almost as much as they hate and despise him.

But on another hand, the idea of getting away from all this, from this Solana dilemma, there could be some benefits. He’d be gone for a couple of weeks, perhaps even a month. Maybe in that space he’ll come back to a different kind of woman. A woman who knows how to fucking stand up for herself instead of being so scared all the time.

And as if reading his cousin’s mind, Jimmy breaks the silence, asking, “Ayo, Roman, you sure you should be leaving—”

A knock on the door seems to only exacerbate the tension as Roman snaps. “What?”

Alicia, his secretary, easy on the eyes and effective in what she does, opens the door just enough to stick her head through. “I’m sorry to bother you, Mr. Reigns—”

“So why are you?” It’s well known that Roman is a man who hates interruptions, especially when he’s in the middle of a briefing meeting, and she knows this well. Might be time for a new secretary.

Alicia swallows and calmly explains, “your cousin, Nia, is on line one. She says she needs to speak to you immediately.”

“She can wait.”

“With….all due respect, sir, it sounds like an emergency. She’s been blowing up the lines all morning.”

Curious, Roman turns his personal phone over and sees his lock screen littered with missed calls, texts, and a voicemail all from one person. 

Nia. 

With a heavy sigh, Roman dismisses Alicia. “I’ll handle it.”

Quietly, she closes the door and he unlocks his phone to return the call. Nia never makes such an effort to get in contact with him. Some shit must have went down, though his mind still wonders what level of bullshit could have occurred that even she can’t handle. 

Phone laid on the table, he dials and places it on speaker.

“It’s about fucking time, you asshole!” Her introduction is unsurprising. “I’ve been trying to call you for almost an hour.”

Roman is already tempted to hang up the phone and block her until further notice. “What do you want, Nia?”

“You need to get down here now.” He’s still not hearing anything that would warrant him moving an inch. “Your fucking Princess Peach wife—”

But at that, Roman’s interest is piqued. He sits forward in his chair. “What about her?” 

“I don’t know, she had a mental breakdown or something and has locked herself in the locker rooms. We can’t get her to come out—”

Right away, Roman gets to blaming and accusing. “What the fuck did you do to her?” Nia can’t respond before he asks the next important question. “Where the fuck was Solo!”

“I didn’t do anything, Roman! And Solo can’t be with her in the fucking women’s locker room!” Nia’s defense is as sharp as his imputation. “I told you that girl isn’t made for this life. She’s a fucking problem! Come get her now, or I’m going to blow the damn doors off myself.”

Highly vexed with Nia’s smart ass mouth as well as the nature of the situation, Roman slams his finger on the end button and stands up from his chair, rolling his shoulders. “Fucking hell.”

Jey, just as confused as everyone else, decides to be the sacrificial lamb, asking, “Roman, what was that—”

“You two come with me. Wise Man. Rikishi. Finish and send out the response to Orton’s proposal.” Roman issues out indisputable commands as he marches out of the room, the twins not hesitating to hop up and follow suit. Confused or not, they know better than to question their cousin when he’s in one of these moods.

They don’t even say anything for the beginning portion of the ride to the Warehouse, a rarity for them considering they always have something to say. But this time, they wait for Roman to break the silence, and he eventually does, still just as angry. 

“I don’t have time to be dealing with this shit!” To say Roman is pissed would be an understatement. He’s livid. For a lot of different reasons, really, maybe even mostly at the fact that his head counsel had the unmitigated gall to even utter Rhodes name around him.

Roman would see the entire empire go up in smoke and flames before he’d ever agree to any sort of alliance with that son of a bitch.

That only adds on top of the fact that the Italian faction of his empire seems to be questioning his ability to lead, as if the data doesn’t clearly support that business has never been better. The cash flow is endless. Numbers don’t lie.

But, Roman knows the real reason for their insubordination. 

It’s because of his father, the Samoan blood that runs through his veins. His being afakasi. Mixed. They believe that following that night, the alliance between the Bloodline and the Guild, an alliance sealed by the marriage of his father and mother, should have been dissolved. That someone from his mother’s side, a full blooded Italian, should sit on that metaphorical throne.

But, that’s not the case.

Roman assumed power because it is his by birthright, and he’ll be damned if he lets some ignorant fucks try to take it from him.

So yes….there are a lot of different reasons for his anger.

But, it’s a lot easier to blame it on the reason he’s in an SUV now, heading to a place he didn’t even plan to attend today.

“I’m not going to keep dealing with this shit with her.” He’s not even entirely sure who he’s speaking to at this point, or if he’s directing his statements to anyone in particular. Just needing to vent and get it out.

“What do you mean keep dealing?” Jimmy is the first to pick up on his cousin’s wording. “Something like this happen before?” 

The twins look between each other and then back at Roman who runs his hand over his face, realizing that if there’s anyone he can trust to keep this between them, it’s the twins. Annoying and sometimes dimwitted, they’re notoriously loyal and can sometimes provide sage advice.

“She had a complete meltdown on the wedding night. Panic attack, wouldn’t stop crying.” Roman conveniently leaves out the part of him talking her down from a panic attack. They don’t need to know that. 

No one needs to know that.

“After ya’ll….”

“No.” He answers, honestly. “We didn’t even do it. She was too hysterical.”

“Wait a minute.” It doesn’t surprise Roman that Jimmy is the first to put two and two together. “So you ain’t even fucked her yet? But you said—”

“I know what I said.” He doesn’t need to be reminded of anything. Roman’s memory is long and sharp. “I also know what I do and don’t feel like dealing with right now.”

“Uce, the only reason you even married this girl was so that she could give you an heir. How the hell is that supposed to happen if she won’t even let you touch her?” As much as Roman wants to snap at his cousins, he can’t. He can’t because they’re right. It’s something he’s thought about on and off since the wedding night.

It’s painfully evident to him that Solana’s mental state is….fragile, to stay the least.

He doesn’t need fragility.

He doesn’t do fragility.

The same way he apparently can’t do her.

“Maybe you need to just annul the shit and cut your losses while it’s still early.” Jey suggests, and Roman can’t deny the idea has a level of appeal to it. Until the next part leaves his cousin’s mouth. “Send her back to her family.”

“No.” That’s an easy no. He’s not entirely opposed to the idea of annulment, but what’s not an option is sending her back to that house of horrors. The only way he can see himself doing that is if he’s put a bullet in both her brother and father’s head, which technically, is the plan anyway.

He would just be making some…..timeline adjustments.

“I won’t send her back there. That’s a death wish.”

Maybe set her up with some money and a house. Let her live out her days with her damn writing, reading, and cooking, the only three things she seems capable of doing without fear. But even thinking that, Roman wonders just how capable she is of living on her own.

Xavier kept the girl so damn sheltered. He’d have to keep a security detail on her at all times. Maybe keep Solo with her. She seems to have grown somewhat comfortable with him. 

The same with Naomi.

Or, so he thought. People who are moving in the right direction don’t lock themselves in public fucking locker rooms.

Jimmy also points out, validly, “well, you obviously can’t keep her around if she literally can’t do the one job she has.”

“Let’s not be irrational, alright?” Jey, in a twist of faith, tries to be the voice of reason. “That girl can cook.”

Jimmy’s eyes light up. “Oh shit, I forgot about that.” Sure enough, he switches his tune. “Man, Soso ain’t even that bad, uce. You just gotta be patient with her.”

The change of tune doesn’t surprise Roman, but his suggestion is almost comical. If not for the fact that he’s already in a sour ass mood. “Do I look like a patient man?”

“No, but you do look like a man who could benefit from learning how to be patient,” Jimmy’s rebuff is quick and sharp. “That’s why you and Jey on high blood pressure medication right now. Both ya’ll hotheaded asses be getting yourselves all upset over nothing. Probably why you’re going gray too.”

There may be some element of truth to what he’s saying, but it’s also irrelevant to the issue at hand.

“I’ll figure something out,” he mutters, and it’s the truth, because that’s what Roman does. He figures shit out. 

He always figures shit out.

The SUV is barely parked when Roman flings the door open, slamming it shut behind him, not knowing exactly what he’s about to walk into.

“What happened?” Roman’s demand is accompanied by his powerful stride into the Warehouse, Nia immediately rolling her eyes and pointing to Naomi.

“Ask her. She was the last one to interact with her.”

Naomi is unsurprised by both Nia throwing her under the bus as well as Roman directing his fury in her direction.

“What the fuck happened?”

As someone who’s been involved with the Bloodline and their family members for over a decade, she’s used to both Roman’s anger as well as being on the receiving end of said anger. So, her response is calm and to the point. “Like I told Nia, we trained, and she was fine. She actually did well today. I had another training session after her, so we agreed on the next date, and she left for the locker rooms. That’s it.”

Naomi’s answer is unhelpful, but he believes her. Knows she’s being honest. It’s just that her honesty doesn’t do shit for him.

“Clear the place.” It’s directed to Nia even if his focus is still on Naomi.

Nia steps forward, irritation undeniable. “Roman, seriously? We have matches lined up—”

“I don’t care. I want it cleared now, Nia.” She’s about to protest again, but he lifts his hand, warning, “I’m not in the mood, so don’t fucking test me.” 

Nia isn’t stupid. She might be able to teeter the lines some days with her cousin, but this clearly isn’t one of those days. Grumbled protests stay within the confines of her inner dialogue as she turns on the edge of her heel to start emptying the Warehouse.

The twins step forward, asking, “what you need us to do?”

Nothing. He doesn’t want anyone to do anything aside from leaving him the hell alone, but that’s not an option. So, he moves quick to find a task for them. Naomi as well. “Check the cameras. Something happened, and I want to know what.”

“What if—”

“Check the cameras.” At this point, Roman’s about to kick them all out if people keep questioning him like he isn’t the fucking Tribal Chief. 

Control has always been a big thing for Roman.

When one doesn’t have much, or any, as a child, they overcompensate, and then some, as an adult.

He recognizes that fully. 

As all parties move to follow through on his orders, Roman heads toward the locker rooms, ignoring the complaining of the gym goers having to prematurely leave against their own volition. He’s not focused on that, just on the panel near the doors, a panel he’s never had to use until this day.

A panel only he can operate and use as its his biometrics and only his. Again, a man who likes control.

It takes less than a minute for him to gain access, the door automatically opening. Roman steps in and closes it behind him. 

“Solana.” He’s certain she won’t answer him, won’t magically do a 180 and feel well enough to step out, but he does feel like at least making his presence known to her will minimize her fear and surprise. 

Because one of the first things he notices and hones in on is sound, listening for any and all sounds that could lead him in her direction, and it’s a bit on the easy side considering there’s only the sound of running water coming from one area. And if he had to guess, one specific shower stall. 

Carefully, his steps take him from one end of the room to the other, moving in the direction of the woman he needs to find.

And he does find her. 

He finds her sitting on the floor of the shower, naked, enclosed in the corner, her legs pulled up to her chest, staring like she’s in a state of shock, like she’s not aware of where she is or what she’s doing. Like she’s not aware of the heat of the water bearing down on her body.

“What the hell?” Roman’s first reaction is a modicum of shock, the heat from the steam alone almost instantly suffocating him. Naturally, he moves toward her, to cut it off, but her scream of terror stops him prematurely. 

“No!” It’s been a while since Roman has heard that level and depth of fear in someone’s voice, in the hefty depth of their sorrow. She’s petrified. “P–please don’t.”

It’s for that he actually hesitates, doing his best not to shout at her because that’s clearly the last thing she needs. “Solana, I’m not gonna fucking touch you, but you’re burning yourself!”

While he does his best to keep his eyes focused on non–inappropriate areas, he can already see the reddening of her arms and back. If she already hasn’t burned herself.

Again, he tries to reason with her, which is such a strange experience. Roman doesn’t negotiate with people. He does whatever the fuck he wants and cuts down anyone who has something to say about it. But this, this is a completely different experience he’s not entirely sure he knows how to navigate in a way that won’t fuck this girl up even more than she already is. 

“I’m just going to shut the water off.” Announcing his intentions seems like the next best thing, even if it seems to do little to calm her. So, he bites the bullet and moves fast enough to where she can’t protest until it’s already done.

Which is exactly what happens. 

“No! I—I need—I need to get clean. I need—” She starts crying again, hugging her legs closer to her body. “I can still feel—their hands—”

“Did someone touch you?” Interrupting her isn’t a good idea, especially with the way anger naturally floats into his tone. It’s almost impossible for it not to. If someone fucking touched her….“ Solana….what happened?”

She gasps, shaking her head, pleading almost. “Please….please don’t m–make me t–t–talk about it.”

There’s a distant look in her eyes, one that’s both uncomfortably but extremely familiar to Roman. He knows what it looks like for someone to be physically present but mentally elsewhere. That’s what Solana is right now. 

She’s not talking about today but something else, something much darker that whatever happened today only triggered. 

Roman slowly starts to crouch down in front of her but she jerks back. “I’m not going to touch you, Solana,” he again reiterates. “But you can’t stay in here.” He starts to remove his jacket, reaching it over to her. “We have to go back to the house.”

Again, she’s panicking, protesting. “I can’t—I can’t go out t–t–there.”

“I had the place cleared,” he explains. “There’s no one out there except for the twins, Naomi, and Nia.” Truthfully, he’s starting to wonder if he should have asked them to leave too. He didn’t know she'd be this frazzled. 

“Come on," he encourages.

Eventually, she accepts his jacket, and Roman stands back up to his full height, turning around and allowing her the privacy he’s sure she’d want. She steps forward, Roman seeing she’s hugging herself keeping his jacket covering her body. 

She keeps her head down, obviously still shaken up, still messed up from a lot of things. He honestly doesn’t know where the trauma stops and ends with this girl.

Roman directs her. “Get dressed. Meet me outside.” He looks down at her, needing some level of acknowledgement. “Okay?”

Solana surprises him by glancing up, nodding softly, walking away to what he would guess is the locker where her clothes are. 

Pleased that she’s at least well enough to be left alone to follow through on a simple task, Roman exits the locker room. He approaches the desk, the twins immediately standing up. It’s not lost upon him that Naomi and Nia are nowhere to be seen. If he had to guess, Jimmy sent Naomi home, not wanting her to bear anymore of Roman’s wrath. And Nia left to avoid unleashing her wrath on Roman, neither of which he’s entirely upset about. 

He has no interest in seeing either of them right now.

Jimmy speaks first. “We found something.”

“Send it to me.” Roman is smart. Always has been. It’s not difficult for him to connect the dots to see that someone clearly fucked with Solana. And he’s almost certain whatever footage the twins found will confirm and show exactly how she was fucked with. The same way he’s entirely certain that managing his anger seeing as such is damn near if not wholly impossible.

And she doesn’t need that right now. She’s already a hot mess. Being exposed to his explosive temper will only exacerbate that, so being sent the footage for him to view when he’s alone and can respond as violently as he wants is the best route.

Especially with his next order.

“Whoever it is, bring em’ to Asylum.” He adds, as if it needs to be specified. “Tonight.” 

Jey nods, and Roman notices there’s an edge to his voice. The same way there’s an edge in Jimmy’s expression. They seem pissed. “You got it.” And for some reason, Roman has a burning guess that it has to do with whatever they found rather than it being directed toward him. 

Waiting for Solana to exit the locker rooms, Roman blows out a deep breath and scratches his beard. This day has been a shitshow for a variety of reasons, but this reason in particular, this thing with Solana, it ranks pretty high up there.

He hasn’t a clue what he’s doing to do with this girl. 

“Jimmy.”

“Whassup?”

“Text Paul. Tell him I want Solana’s medical records. All of them.”

Roman knows now he needs answers, specific answers regarding exactly what he’s dealing with. And Solana is clearly in no position to share these things with him, not that he’d even want her to. 

She’d probably have to be admitted somewhere if he tried that shit. 

Jimmy looks understandably confused but affirms, “I gotchu.”

And with that, Roman also pulls out his phone, scrolling through his contacts, selecting the thread and typing out a message he doesn’t really think twice about.

Roman: Dwayne. Change of plans. I’ll come when I can, but now’s not a good time. I have shit here I need to handle first.

Roman: In the meantime, take my name out their fucking mouths. 

————

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

And just like that, Solana knows that he knows what happened. Knows about Austin and Grayson.

And it turns her stomach. 

Roman took her back to the house. He left her alone, giving her time and space to come down from her breakdown. And even in sitting in her room, writing out her feelings about the day's events, she knew. Solana knew that it wasn’t that simple. That Roman wouldn’t just leave what happened today at that.

That he’d want to know what happened, what triggered it, but naively, she tried to convince herself he’s too busy of a man to deep dive and find out on his own. To push her for answers. 

She’s wrong.

She’s wrong because that’s the first thing to leave his mouth when he finds her in the kitchen. 

Roman’s question, however, is valid and understandable, even if just the thought alone of having this conversation makes Solana physically uncomfortable.

Still, given everything that’s happened today, she can’t blame him for wanting answers.

She just doesn’t have them to give.

Her voice is barely above a whisper. “I—I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” His tone is full of mockery and frustration that she also can’t blame him for but physically finds herself feeling unsettled. “Bullshit. I want an answer, Solana.”

Her skin feels hot, stomach starting to knot. “I just—I don’t—”

“I can’t handle problems you have if you don’t fucking tell me that you have a problem in the first place.”

“I’m sorry—”

At that, Roman snaps, unintentionally, but also a build-up from all of the day’s events. “Stop fucking apologizing!”

What he doesn’t expect is for her to jump back away from him, so much so that she falls to the floor and hurriedly moves back against the cabinet, as she shouts in a panic, “I’m sorry!” Her arms are crossed in front of her body, a defensive position, like she’s waiting, bracing.

Waiting for him to hit her.

Roman’s been in this position countless times. Standing before people as they begged for mercy, begged for him to not enact his vengeance, to rule out his judgment as judge, juror, and executioner. And it’s always been a thrill for him, a boost to his ego, a reminder of his power.

And not once has he ever felt bad for causing such a reaction.

Not until this moment. 

With slow, careful movements, Roman also moves to the floor, one leg outstretched, the other hiked so his foot is planted on the ground. His arm casually resting on his knee. “Solana….do you remember what I said to you that day at your job?”

She's still waiting for the inevitable, waiting for him to lash out, for him to hit her. But, she’s confused by the fact that instead of him doing so just yet, he's sitting on the floor opposite of her. And somehow, she finds it in her to focus on his question. He said a couple of noteworthy things that day, but somehow, she knows exactly what he’s referring to.

“My…..my clumsiness.” Clumsiness he told her she wouldn’t have to worry about, but she’s been more than worried about it, more waiting for it, expecting it at some point or another. 

“And I meant that shit.” His head is leaned back against the cabinet, and Solana suddenly feels even worse. He seems so stressed out from all of this, from her. “You’re my wife now. I’m not going to let anyone lay a fucking hand on you. Not your dad. Not your brother. Not fucking Theory and Waller.” There’s a bit of a pause as he adds, almost quietly, “and especially not me.” 

Solana is unsure what to make of what he’s saying to her. Not sure how to process and take it at face value. It’s hard for her to digest the fact that one of the most dangerous and violent men in the country wants her to believe that he’d never put his hands on her. That he’s not someone she needs to be scared of. 

And she doesn't understand it, can’t comprehend how he can not be like every other man in her life. “W–why?”

“Cause unlike your piece of shit family, The Bloodline has morals. I’m not a good man, Solana, and I don’t pretend to be. But, I’ve never hit a woman, and I never will.” Roman never pictured himself having to explain to a woman why he has no desire to beat her. Yet, here he fucking is. “Real men don’t do that shit.”

Solana doesn’t know what to say to that, is still not sure what to say to any of it. But then, Roman is speaking again.

“It’s no secret. I have a temper, and that’s not going to change. I’m not going to change. Not for you, not for anyone.” Solana knows this, knows this very well, and understands it just as much. She would never expect him to change his ways, especially for the likes of her. “But, I—I’ll try to be mindful of it around you.” 

That…..throws her for a loop. Why? Why would he do anything for her? What has she done to make him even feel like he should? Except stress him out and cause him unnecessary problems.

Roman continues, asserting, “but, you’ve gotta start fucking telling me shit. I need you to meet me halfway here. I need you to communicate with me. You can’t spend the rest of your life writing what you refuse to say out loud.” 

She licks her lip, a nervous action, replying as best she can, “I’m not—I’m not used to—” She’s not used to people caring about her, caring about her wellbeing, and maybe that’s too strong and too inaccurate to describe what Roman is saying. It’s certainly how it feels though. “I—I’ll try.”

He seems pleased by this, probably not fully satisfied but enough for him to drop the subject. And she appreciates that, and is thankful for it. This day has already been a lot, too much. She’s so fucking tired. 

Roman says nothing else, not that she needs him to, not that he needs to. But, as he stands up, turning to leave, she finds herself asking him, “where—where are you going?”

His answer is simple but ominous. “I told you. No one lays a hand on you.” He grabs his jacket off the sofa, sliding it on as he vows, “I’m gonna make sure everyone understands that shit from here on out.”

—-------

Asylums, historically, have been places of horror. Where the lives of so many end in cruel and undeserved ways. Screams and pleas falling on deaf ears, memories of terror forever etched in the walls and halls of a building that’s only seen suffering.

It’s a fitting name for Roman’s location for interrogation. 

Torture. Because there is no being interrogated by the Tribal Chief. It’s just straight up, unadulterated torture. And truth be told, it’s a bit of a last, or maybe second resort. Killing someone in the moment is much easier, preferred. A shot to the head, a knife across the throat, even the snap of a neck. All much easier than methodical, drawn out ending of lives.

But some instances, some circumstances call for something more, something sinister, something lasting.

And that’s exactly what Theory and Waller are going to get.

By the time Roman walks into the building, sliding and tossing his jacket to the side, the twins have done a decent job roughing them up. One of them—he could never tell the difference—nor did he care or will it matter in a few hours, has a black eye that’s swollen shut. The other’s nose is crooked and bleeding, most likely broken. Their clothes are already stained with sweat, blood, and dirt. 

They’re both tied down by their wrists and ankles that he can see have started to dig into their skin. Their chairs are situated opposite each other. Good. That’ll make this even better. Calmly, Roman walks over, snapping his finger as Jimmy and Jey step back, visibly pleased with their warm up. 

He crouches down between them, looking back and forth between both with a smirk. “Gentleman, I don’t think we’ve been introduced.” One of them, the taller of the two looks scared shitless while the other is glaring with idiotic defiance. Like he clearly thinks he and his friend are going to leave this building alive. 

They’ll leave.

Just in pieces.

“I’m Roman.” His voice is slick ice. “Roman Reigns.” There’s a rush of adrenaline that soars through Roman’s big body seeing the fear flash in both sets of irises. Good. They should be fucking terrified. “But, I do know someone you have met.” His voice goes cold again. “My wife.”

“Actually, I saw you meet my wife, but you didn’t just meet her, did you?” Roman smiles, shaking his head. “Naw man….ya’ll did a hell of a lot more than that.” 

Roman doesn’t need to have footage of just what happened in that locker room. He can paint the image all on his own, and it’s an image that makes his blood go cold. The footage of them in the hallway was damning enough. “You cornered her, didn’t you? You waited until she was alone and vulnerable and you harassed her. You sexually harassed her. My wife.” 

Roman shrugs, looking between the two. “What ya’ll think should happen?” Their mumbled and grumbled voices are incoherent against the gags in their mouths. Laughing quietly, he continues, “now, now, I’m a fair Tribal Chief.” Roman stands up, walking over to the wall of tools and weapons laid out. He settles for the hunting knife. “So here’s what I’m gonna do, I’m gonna let you tell me which body part goes first.”

He motions for the twins to remove their gags and upon that removal, the defiant punk is the first to speak, “what the fuck is wrong with you!”

The other one, however, is damn near in tears. “Pl—please. We–we’re sorry.”

“Shut up, Grayson! He–he’s bluffing.” Theory, he thinks, decides to prolong his torture even longer by reiterateing, “we didn’t even fucking touch her. The bitch is ly—”

Roman sees red, again, most likely a buildup of the day's events. But, it’s pure rage that fills him as he slams the Buck 119 down against Theory’s left hand, cleanly slicing off four of his fingers. 

Theory’s screams fill the room as the twins chuckle, Jey taunting, “who’s the bitch now, huh?”

Roman grabs his chin, vowing, “I’m gonna make you suffer the longest.”

“We didn’t hurt her, I swear.” Grayson is now crying, clearly ready to beg, plead, and whatever else it takes to get him out of this hell. “Austin just—he had her up against the locker, he–he pinned her, but we didn’t rape her. I swear!”

Grayson unintentionally paints a picture in Roman’s head of what he already figured is what happened, what he figured is what sent Solana into her traumatized state.

Big mistake.

Roman brings the knife down on both of Grayson’s thighs, intentionally aiming for near the top of his knees, his quadriceps, effectively rendering him permanently paralyzed. His screams of pain are music to Roman’s ears. Roman grabs him by his jaw, screaming, “who the fuck do you think you are! She’s mine! You hurt her and think I’m not gon break every bone in your fucking body? You don’t ever fuckin touch what’s mine! You understand me!”

The younger man is practically hysterical at this point. “Please….” Roman looks down, hit with the stench of urine, seeing that the one with the accent has pissed himself. Disgusted, he backs away, hitting the pathetic son of a bitch with a blow across his cheek that sends teeth flying out his mouth.

He turns back around, eyes focused on a now teary eyed Theory. “I was going to be fair, let you decide in which order I dismember you, but now…now I’m just gonna make you watch as I kill you both, piece by fucking piece."

He looks over at his cousins who seem completely unaffected and almost indifferent to the gruesome scene unfolding before them. “Jimmy.” Roman doesn’t hesitate, a sadistic smile on his handsome face. “Give me the saw.”

—------

Blood is such a pain in the ass to get out of almost everything. 

Roman showered a good twenty minutes before leaving the Asylum, and he can still see specks of dried blood, or maybe it’s bone, or flesh. 

There’s a sense of satisfaction that fills him though, that almost calms him as he imagines the look of pure terror and fright on their faces as he methodically took their lives, piece by piece. Well fucking deserved in Roman’s opinion.

And he’d do it all over again if he could.

Minus the blood and guts and shit, because that's just fucking annoying. Roman readies to take another shower, hitting the light switch near his bedroom door when he immediately notices the brown journal sitting in the middle of the bed.

There’s a second to pause and another second for him to realize he’s seen a similar book before. Solana. He’s seen her writing in one very close to the one on his bed. 

Less apprehensive, Roman walks over to see it’s open to a page filled with neat writing he knows must belong to Solana.

Lifting it, he reads what she’s written.

Roman,

I know you don’t want me saying sorry anymore, and I know you want me to talk to you, but it’s really hard for me. I’m not used to this. I don’t know how to talk to you. 

And I know you said I can’t write, but writing has always been the only way I can express myself, so I will try to talk to you more, but….until then, can I just write?

Solana

Right off the bat, Roman’s first and initial response is no.

Because why the fuck would he write like something out of a damn movie when she could just fucking talk to him?

But, that’s the thing, that’s exactly what she’s trying to express to him, that she can’t, that it’s too hard for her. Right now, at least. Because there’s also a promise, a promise to try to transition to more verbal communication, Roman’s preference.

Granted, he hates talking to most people in general, but it’s preferred over writing damn letters like the 1700s.

And then he thinks about it, recalling earlier today and the pure terror in her voice, the fear wracking her body so much so that she didn’t even realize she was this close to third degree burns. He has to be realistic here, realistic about what she is and isn’t capable of.

As frustratingly slow as it is, she is trying, in her own way. He can’t fault her for that.

Regardless of how he feels about it, this is the best she can do. For now. And he’ll hold her to working towards that, because growth doesn’t happen in comfort zones. She has to get used to being uncomfortable with new things. That’s just how it is.

But this….he can meet her halfway.

Grabbing a pen out his nightstand, Roman writes out his response, taking and laying it out on the kitchen island for her to see first thing in the morning.

Solana,

I recognize communication is challenging for you. If this is what works for you, I’ll do it. For now.

Do you work this weekend? If so, call off. 

I’m taking you somewhere.

Also, there's nothing you can't tell me.

I promise you that.

Roman

[thewriterwithnoplan]

Ferrari's Fairytale (1/3)

Summary: World Championships are the most important part of any Formula One team's history. Except perhaps, Ferrari's. Known for their rabid fans, filthy-rich investors, and pretty boy drivers it shouldn't be a surprise that the team has brought together Soulmates from across the globe. And fate, it seems, is working awfully hard to put all the pieces into place for Ferrari's perfect fairytale - one that's been in the works for decades now.

[Part 1 of Pretty Girls and Ferrari Boys]

Soulmate AU: Soulmates share injuries and pain.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader (Eventual)

Word Count: 1650

Warnings: Swearing, no Charles in this first part sorry it's his epic love story and those take time ;)

Masterlist

There was something wrong with your soulmate.

Really there had been something wrong with them since you were eight years old. But right now, there was something particularly wrong with them.

“Just some bruising over the ribcage, but no actual damage internally.” The medic presses a latex covered hand gently against your ribs.

“They feel broken.” You suck in a pained breath and glare over her shoulder, at the little framed picture of her cat, Terror, on her desk. “You’re sure I’m not about to sneeze and puncture a lung?”

“Funny.” Though the look she gives you as she pulls off her gloves is less than amused. “Which one of us went to medical school again?”

“My best friend. You might know her. She’s stunning, generous, gives me free check-ups, did I say stunning? Goes by Sunny.”

“It’s Doctor Sunny to you.” She slingshots one of the gloves at you. “But it’s good to know you only keep me around for the free check-ups.”

“My soulmate would bankrupt me without you.”

Sunny taps at her computer, “The fee isn’t that high.”

“Sure,” You shrug. “If you aren’t in here every other week.”

“Have we ruled out hitman as their profession?”

“Since we were eight?”

“I don’t know much about hitmen, maybe they start them young.”

You lower yourself carefully from the observation table and move stiffly toward her desk. “Give it to me straight Doc. How much longer have I got?”

“I’m afraid you’ll live, ma’am.” Sunny doesn’t even look up. “A tragedy for all, I know. I can give you a moment if you need time to process– Ow! Bitch.”

She rubs at her shoulder and huffs.

“I’m going to have to log that in the database, you know.” She says.

“Good, maybe we can both find our soulmates and be done with it all.”

“Real romantic, dude.”

“Your soulmate hasn’t been terrorising you since you were a kid.”

“I had my fair share of scraped knees,” Sunny wrinkles her nose when you stick your tongue out. “You do know it won’t stop after the two of you meet, right? That’s a schoolyard myth.”

“After the talking to I’m going to give him, you bet your perky ass it’s going to stop.”

“That’s the second instance of workplace harassment I’ve coped from you in the last minute.”

“Fine. Your ass is not perky.”

“Mature.” She hums, “What time did you say the pain started?”

“Ten-thirty-ish?”

“All good then.” Sunny makes a few more clicks before powering down her computer. “Your chest and my arm, all nice and logged.”

“You know, sometimes I think you became a Match Medic specifically so you could put every little thing into the database to make it easier to find your soulmate.”

“Perks of the job.” She scoops up her handbag. “Come on, let’s bounce before the front desk starts scheduling over my lunch break.”

“You remember how I said you were stunning and generous and stunning?”

“I’m not buying you lunch.”

“Could this week get any worse?” You throw your head back dramatically.

Sunny cracks a smile at your antics, “Only a few more hours and we’re free for the weekend.”

“Are we still on for pamper-night tonight?”

“Always. Mine or yours?”

You end up spending the night in Sunny’s apartment, covered in different rejuvenating oils and masks until you look like low-budget horror movie villains. In your fluffy robes with The Princess Bride on in the background Sunny tries to teach you how to make Hainanese Chicken the way her mother did. Terror cries at your feet when you tell him he can’t have raw chicken. Sunny pops a bottle of cheap champagne that makes you both grimace and promise one another that you would find an excuse to get a nicer bottle soon. You take turns washing the excess from the face, foot, and hair masks off. Then curl up together on the couch, sipping broth, digging into rice and slathering chicken in Sunny’s family’s super-secret chilli sauce. You both fall asleep at a very respectable eleven o’clock.

So, it’s fucking strange when you wake up feeling like you had spent the night inside a paint mixer.

“Are you okay?” Sunny frowns as she stands over a pan of eggs. “You look ill.”

You squint over your coffee cup, “Soulmate is playing up.”

She plates the eggs next to a small stack of bacon before turning to put a hand to your forehead. “They shouldn’t be making you feel sick, illness doesn’t transfer like that. Are you sure it’s coming from them? Could you just be hung over?”

“It’s definitely him, third weekend in a row, like clockwork.” You take your plate gratefully, “It’s like I always tell you. It’s not nausea. It’s more like…”

“Impossible to explain for you and every medical practitioner you’ve ever seen?”

You groan, “It’s like my brain spent the night trying to escape my skull and the muscles in my neck were in on it.”

“It’s not unheard of for soulmates to feel the repercussions of an intense work out. There was this study from four years ago on high performance athletes and their partners that–”

You groan again, “Oh god and now there’s a nerd in my ear!”  

She tosses a gelatinous bit of egg onto your plate. It lands with a splat that makes you fake gag. “Oh, grow up.”

“You should be nice to me,” You lament, “I’m wounded!”

“Your soulmate is wounded.”

“And I’m sure their best friend is taking very good care of them!”

She pulls a face at you but still takes your plate to the dishwasher for you. As she’s rinsing them, she asks, “What’s on for the rest of your weekend?”

“I got a call from my parents on Thursday and guess what?” You sipped at the cold dregs of your coffee, “The dentist finally figured out which one of them the toothache is coming from!”

“That’s great,” Sunny’s smile was genuine. “They’re going in to get it fixed?”

“Tomorrow morning, both going under local anaesthesia.”

You hip checked her lightly out of the way to rinse both your cups. “You want another coffee?”

Sunny propped herself up on the counter, “My caffeine addiction is rubbing off on you I fear.”

“Listen, we have to get through the day somehow.” You coaxed the machine back to life before leaning against the counter to look at Sunny. “Anyway, my parents were supposed to go to this race tomorrow. Dad is particularly devastated and has practically ordered me to represent the family ‘at our home race.’ It’s been tradition for him and mum since they got married. It’s kind of a big deal for him. The man is obsessive.”

“My parents had something similar to say about our family legacy and studying medicine.”

“Speaking of… You remember all the times I sat up with you studying, or brought you food when you forgot to eat, or ran errands for you, or made sure you took breaks, or–”

“Fine, I get it, I’ll go to the stupid race.”

“Oh, how kind of you to offer.” You passed her one of the cups. “It won’t be that bad. Motorsports are supposed to be fun live, right?”

Sunny snorted, “Thank God. Motorsports? I thought you meant like a horse race or a marathon. I was getting war-flashbacks to track-and-field.”

You put a hand to your heart, “You were willing to relive cross country for me?”

“I was willing to ogle fit, sweaty men for you, definitely.”

“Alright, first of all – fuck you. But also same,” You clinked mugs and nodded solemnly at one another, “Maybe we can find some fit, sweaty drivers to ogle instead.”

Sunny hummed, “What do I wear? Is it like sprint cars or more like V8s – ooh is it an illegal drag race?”

“Girl, no.” You swatted at her thigh, “It’s Formula 1, which is perfectly legal and safe and much faster than any of those options.”

“Alright, Miss Daddy’s-Girl, go off.”

“Shut up, I’ve had to hear him go on and on about it my whole life.” You pulled a face at your coffee. “The man has had a hard-on for Ferrari since before he met my mother, and then he met her in the Ferrari hospitality at an F1 race, and he’s fucking worshipped them ever since.”

“Oh my god, why am I only just hearing about this?” She grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and cooing. “You’re a little Ferrari baby.”

You blew a rather unladylike raspberry at her and knocked her hand away, “Because it’s embarrassing! Dad was only there because he and his friend won tickets. So, when Ferrari marketing caught wind that soulmates had met in their pavilion, they practically fell over themselves.”

“Holy shit!” Sunny practically howled in delight, “Is that where all those baby pictures of you in little Ferrari onesies came from?”

“Ferrari’s own little fairytale, Mr-won-his-way-in and Miss-heir-to-a-real-estate-monopoly. It's like Romeo and Juliet; if Romeo and Juliet survived, had a kid and decided to make it the poster child of their love story.”

“Don’t sound so disgusted, that’s cute as fuck.” Sunny snatches up your empty cup and stacks it next to hers in the dishwasher.

You frown, “Not everything has to be a love story.”

“I don’t know, girl, I’m pretty sure you just asked me to play out your parents first meeting with you tomorrow.” She winks at you over her shoulder as she heads toward her room.

“Oh, fuck off, Sunny.”

“I think this calls for new outfits!” She emerges from her room, towel over one shoulder. “What was your Mum wearing when she met your dad?”

“We are not reenacting my parents meet-cute.”

“Who knows, maybe you’ll have your own meet-cute with a certain pain-prone soulmate, hm?” In the moment it takes you to reorientate yourself after her comment, she’s breezing past you with a bright, “I’m having first shower!”

You squark in indignation. Like hell, you’ll let either of those things happen to you this weekend.

(Part 2 : Ferrari's Prince - 03.05.24)

[6rookie-writer0110]

Try to rewind again

Tara Carpenter x Male Reader

Request - could you do a male deadpool reader in scream. in the scene where Dewey dies, reader is also ‘killed’. reader groans and gets up

You are sitting in the middle between Sam and Tara. Mindy is talking about the rules of horror films and who not to trust etc. But you are not paying attention to Mindy, because you are staring at your girlfriend. You break the fourth wall…

“You see the girl next to me? Well, that is the love of my life, Tara Carpenter. If anyone hurt my beautiful girlfriend well they won't won't wake up from their nap. I don't care what her friend Mindy is talking about” You smiled.

Then you feel everyone is looking at you.

“What!?” You said.

“Are you even paying attention, Y/n?” Chad asked.

“I am” You lied.

“Never trust the love interests,” Mindy said.

“That seems unfair and a dumb rule,” You said.

“I don't make the rules, Y/n,” Mindy said.

“Yeah, a good reason not to trust, Y/n,” Amber said.

Mindy rolled her eyes then you broke the fourth wall…

“I don't like Amber and she is a hater. Mindy sure does know a lot of rules from horror films. But I will protect Tara” You smiled.

You go back to listening to Mindy talk about why the new Ghostface is back.

——-

You are alone with Tara in the apartment. You are lying on her bed and you are kissing her on the lips.

“Y/n, I trust you,” Tara said.

“I know” You said.

“Yeah. But I can't let Sam or the others know that you are my boyfriend” Tara said.

“Why?” You asked.

“They think you are very weird but I like that about you” Tara smiled.

You kiss her on the lips and she starts to smile.

Amber opened the door and you fell on the floor.

“Why are you on the floor?” Amber asked.

“I dropped my phone” You lied.

“He is always dropping his phone. What’s up?” Tara said.

“Your sister called and she is coming over,” Amber said.

“Okay, cool,” Tara said.

Later, you go to the bathroom, and you come out. Then Amber pushed you against the wall and she glared at you.

“Hurt Tara and I will come after you, Y/n,” Amber said.

“I’m not scared of you and we are not dating,” You said.

“I don’t like you so stay away from her, freak,” Amber said.

“I don't like you either,” You said.

She walks away and you glare at her. You pretend your hand as a gun and you aimed at her back.

“Phew. Bitch” You whispered.

Much Later, Chad, Mindy, and Sam arrived at the apartment. It's game night and Sam starts to ask questions about you.

“Why are you here, Y/n?” Sam asked.

Before you can answer Tara starts to speak.

“He needed help with homework and I gave him my notes, then I asked him to stay,” Tara said.

Sam looks at you up and down. You turned your head to the screen…

“I don't know why she doesn't trust me. But she will love me soon and she will let me marry her sister, the love of my life. I won't get tired of saying saying that. I mean just look at her… she is smart and beautiful, and her lips. Oh my god! Okay, okay, I'm getting distracted. Focus, Y/n, and scene!” You said.

But you are not sitting next to Tara. Chad and Amber are sitting next to your girlfriend.

Later, Tara went to the kitchen and you are helping her. You reach the plates from the top shelf then Chad walks in. He starts to flirt with Tara and you glare at him. You look at the screen…

“I don't like him flirting with my girlfriend. But I'm going to ruin his shot” You said.

You put your arms around their shoulders.

“So, I was thinking the three of us could hang out and check out their new burger place. They have a food challenge, where three friends eat the biggest burger and get a huge prize. Should we do it!?” You grinned.

Chad is mad that you ruined the moment between him and Tara. You notice his glare and you keep smiling.

“I will pass. Take your arm off me” Chad said.

You put your arms down and your idea worked. Chad left the kitchen and Tara figured out what you did.

✫ ✯ ✯ ✫

You are at the hospital to see Tara. But you and Tara started to hear noises, you went to check it out.

“It's Ghostface,” You said.

“What!?” Tara said.

“Listen to me, I will protect you. But I need you to hide first and don't make any noise” You said.

You help Tara get out of bed. You look at the screen…

“Someone hurt my beautiful girlfriend. And I'm going to make them pay!” You said angrily.

You helped Tara hide in the bathroom and you pressed your finger onto your lips. You close the door then Ghostface walks in and you walk toward Ghostface.

“It’s ruined you didn't knock,” You said.

“I’m going to enjoy killing you,” Ghostface said.

“I think first you should buy dinner-”

“Shut up, you freak!” Ghostface yelled.

You figured it out. The only person that calls you a freak is Amber. Every time she got a chance she would call you a ‘freak’. She runs towards you and you punched her in the face. But she didn't fall, but she managed to stab you in the stomach and she pushed the dagger deep into your stomach. Tara watched everything and she started to cry and you started to cough up blood.

“You whore!” You said.

She pushed you onto the floor and you started to bleed out. Ghostface left and Tara ran toward you but Sam arrived too late. She got Tara to leave the hospital and she started to drive.

Your body starts to heal and you struggle to sit up. You start to breathe hard and you don't see Tara.

“I’m coming, Tara,” You said.

You struggle to get up and you leave the room. In the hallway, you see Dewey on the floor and you run towards him.

“Oh, No Dewey, I will kill those *bleeping* *bleeping*, wait why am I bleeping?” You yelled.

You start to look around and you turn the swear button off. You go back into position…

“Let’s try this again, oh No Dewey I will kill those motherfucking fuckers for killing you, let's go make Them chimichangas!” You said.

You took his gun and added more bullets. Sam starts to drive and wants to take Tara out of town.

“We have to go back to the house, I don't have my inhaler,” Tara said.

“Can’t you get another one?” Sam asked.

“No. Just drive back and I will be quick” Tara said.

“Fine,” Sam said.

——

You drive to the house but you sneak into the backdoor. You are in the kitchen and you grab a knife and put it in your back pocket. You hear Amber yelling and you run out of the kitchen with the gun out.

“Y/n!” Tara yelled.

“It’s Amber that bitch is the killer!” You yelled.

She takes off the mask and everyone is in shock. Amber has a gun and she shot you in the chest.

“No idea how you survived in the hospital,” Amber said.

She shot you four times in the chest and you fell. Tara starts to cry and Amber is just smiling.

“I always hated that freak. Tara, your boyfriend is an idiot and really weird” Amber said.

You sit up and everyone is in shock.

“You fucking bitch, this is my favorite hoodie!” You yelled.

“But how!?” Sam and Amber said in sync.

You stand up take out the gun and aim it at her.

We can swear? fuck yes!” Tara said.

“So fuck you very much Amber, and bye!” You said.

You pulled the trigger and the bullet went through Amber’s head. Then you smelled your gun

“Oh, that felt great” You smirked.

“But how are you alive?” Sam asked.

Richie ran towards you screaming then you took out the knife. You spears him like a kebab. Then you look at the screen…

“Turn around kiddos, he is about to be in half,” You said.

You take out the knife from his jaw, then you start to stab him in the chest and stomach. The wounds are deep and he bleeds out in seconds.

“That was oddly hot,” Tara said.

“Woo! 2-1 to me” You cheered.

Tara went up to you and she started to kiss you.

“When my injuries are healed you’re mine,” Tara said.

“Fuck yeah, 3-1” You smiled.

✫ ✯ ✯ ✫

Tara has healed and so has you. You are in her bedroom, kissing her then she pushes down to the bed. You quickly take off your shirt. She gets on top of you and takes off her shirt and you see her black bra and you can't stop smiling.

“Wait, how come you heal?” Tara asked.

“It’s a long story. I didn't tell you because I didn't you to think I'm a freak” You said.

“I wouldn't have thought you were a freak,” Tara said.

You and Tara smile at each other.

[goldenempyrean]

for your drabbles request, i was thinking something like this:

W: “Do you not see how pale you are right now?”     

R: “Can you just shut up for a second?”

W: "You can’t drive home in your condition.”  

with sick!reader and caretaker!wanda, kinda angsty but with a happy ending if possible :)

Second Opinion

〚 Notes - Just a drabble....whole story? Potato potatah? Wanda's a major bitch at the start of this but we'll look over it because she redeems herself <3 Sorry this took a while, I got sent home from work sick so finally had the time to finish this :,) 〛

〚 Pairing - Wanda Maximoff x Reader 〛

〚 Summary - Your camping trip doesn't go to plan. Wanda isn't exactly helping you feel better. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 1530 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

╚════════ ⋇⋆✦⋆⋇⋆✦⋆⋇ ════════╝

“I knew you didn’t check the weather.” Wanda grumbled from the under the small shelter you’d both huddled beneath, shaking out her soaked hair and scrunching up her damp curls before shooting you an annoyed look. 

“I didnt realise it was going to rain!” You threw your hands up defensively, the action had sent the water droplets on your arms splashing in every direction, “I’m just as soaked as you are! How was I meant to know the tent wasn’t waterproof?” 

The pair of you loved to camp, it was always fun to get out into nature, switch off your electronics and unwind. It was something you did every year. Unfortunately you’d forgotten to check the weather before rushing off for a weekend away. It had rained heavily throughout the night and much to Wanda’s horror, had made the tragic discovery that the tent you’d been sleeping in was definitely not waterproof. 

You’d both woken up to find yourselves soaked to the bone,  laying in freezing cold water… Not the greatest way to wake up. 

Wanda sighed, rubbing her arms for warmth. "Well, what do we do now? We can't stay here in this soggy mess." 

“We can pack up everything into the boot, there should be a tarp in there so it wont ruin the interior. Then I guess we just head home?”  You sniffled, as a chill rolled up your arms. 

Wanda grumbled as she helped gather up the soggy camping gear, shooting you occasional glares that seemed to say, "This is all your fault." Meanwhile, you couldn't shake off the chill that had settled deep into your bones. The feeling of your damp clothes sticking to you only added to your discomfort. 

But as you packed up, Wanda's annoyance seemed to intensify with every wet item she handled. "I can't believe this," She muttered, shaking out a drenched sleeping bag. "We should have checked the weather. This is just typical of you! You’re so unprepared!” 

You tried to muster a defense, but your voice came out weak and raspy. "I'm sorry, okay? I didn't mean for this to happen." You cringed a little at the sound of your voice. You’d had a cold for the past week however you’d started feeling better for the last few days but you’d supposed that waking up shivering and soaked would make anyone feel ill again. 

As Wanda continued to grumble, you couldn't help but sneeze, the action sent had you stumbling forward a little and you really hadn’t been able to cover your mouth in time… 

"Ugh, seriously?" she snapped, wiping at her dampened clothes with annoyance. "First, the weather, and now you're sneezing on me? Could this day get any worse?" 

You winced, feeling guilty for both the sneeze and the situation as a whole. "I-I'm sorry," you stammered, reaching for a tissue to cover your mouth. "It's this stupid cold. I can't help it." 

Wanda rolled her eyes, clearly unimpressed.  

“Go wait in the car,” She gave you a stern look, the kind she had when she wouldn’t take no for an answer and pointed to the vehicle. “You better take those soaked clothes off as well, I need you getting pneumonia.” 

You sniffled, not bothering to argue any longer. The corners of your temples had started to ache and you couldn’t deal with her attitude. 

“Fine!” You climbed into the driver’s side and closed the door with a slam. 

As Wanda continued packing up the camping gear, her frustration seemed to grow with each soggy item she handled. She muttered under her breath, shooting occasional glances towards the car where you were waiting. 

“Are you even able to drive safely?” Wanda mumbled under her breath as she clambered into the passenger seat only ten minutes later. You sent her an unimpressed glare. “I’m being serious, I mean do you not see how pale you are right now? What if you fall asleep while driving?” 

"Can you just shut up for a second?" You snapped back, feeling the throbbing ache in your temples intensify with each passing moment. You weren’t in the mood to argue from the second she’d gotten in the car. 

Wanda sighed heavily, her frustration mixing with genuine worry. "You can't drive home in your condition." 

You leaned back in the seat, the cold seeping into your bones and sapping what little energy you had left. "I'll manage," you muttered stubbornly, though the idea of driving in your current state filled you with dread. 

Her eyes narrowed, a distinct crease forming in her brow, “No you won’t manage! Just let me drive, Y/N, for gods sake!” 

You knew she was right; driving in your current state was a recipe for disaster. Reluctantly, you handed over the keys, feeling defeated and utterly drained. 

Wanda wasted no time taking charge, starting the car and adjusting the mirrors before pulling out of the campsite. You slumped in the passenger seat, feeling the chill of your soaked clothes seep deeper into your bones. Every bump in the road sent a jolt of pain through your head, and you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to ease the throbbing. 

You sniffled, trying to stifle the tickle in your nose, but it persisted, building with each passing moment until you couldn't help but let out a series of harsh, miserable sneezes. 

Wanda glanced over at you, her annoyance fading into concern as she saw the way you huddled in on yourself. "You okay?" she asked, her voice a little softer now. 

You mustered a weak nod, but the look on your face betrayed the truth. Your cheeks flushed with fever, and your skin felt clammy to the touch. It was clear you were far from okay. 

“Don’t lie to me.” She mumbled, her hand coming to rest on your forehead, “You’ve got a fever again.” She sighed, her hand coming down for cup your cheek for a moment, and you found yourself sinking into her touch, craving the comfort it brought. 

You still were reluctant to fully give in, “I’m fine Wands. Just leave it… please?” You added, expecting her to argue back but she just looked at you with sympathy instead and murmured under her breath.

"I think you need a second opinion on that."

As the car hummed along the roads, the combination of exhaustion and illness weighed heavily on you. Despite your best efforts to stay awake and alert, the steady rhythm of the car and the warmth from the heater lulled you into a drowsy haze. 

Your eyelids grew heavy, and before you knew it, you had succumbed to the pull of sleep. Your head lolled to the side, resting against the window as raspy breaths and intermittent coughs escaped your lips. Wanda glanced over at you, her expression softening at the sight of you. 

The guilt weighed heavily on her as she watched you sleep, your face flushed with fever, your body shivering involuntarily despite the warmth of the car. She pulled the car over to quickly reach into the back, pulling up the blanket you usually kept in the backseats before gently laying it over you, tucking it in at the sides. Wanda sighed in remorse, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had been too harsh on you earlier.  

She replayed the events of the morning in her mind, feeling a pang of regret with each memory. Maybe she should have been more understanding, more patient. She hadn’t slept well and was overtired and she had taken it out on you. After all, you didn't intentionally get sick or forget to check the weather. It was just an unfortunate series of events.  

Eventually, the familiar sight of your home came into view, and Wanda felt a sense of relief wash over her. She carefully parked the car and turned off the engine, reaching over to gently shake your shoulder. 

"Hey, we're home," she murmured softly, her voice laced with concern. "Let's get you inside and warmed up." 

With Wanda's help, you groggily stumbled out of the car and into the warmth of your home. She guided you to the couch, before hurrying off to your bedroom, quickly returning with a thick hoodie for you to wear and you could hear the distance hum of running water. 

"I'm sorry for snapping earlier," Wanda murmured, her voice filled with sincerity. "I shouldn't have been so harsh on you. I know you didn't mean for any of this to happen. I was way out of line.” 

“I’ve started a bath for you if you want it?” 

Wanda's apology hangs in the air, melting away any lingering tension. With a soft smile, you reach out and grasp her hand’ “Thank you, baby," you replied, your voice still hoarse. "I appreciate it. And a bath sounds wonderful after all this.” You paused, watching as she fidgeted with her fingers - clearly still feeling guilty. 

“Do you want to join me? You got soaked too y’know.” 

She blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that response. She hesitated for a moment before nodding, “If you’ll have me?” Her eyes softened as she nodded, her lips curling into a relieved smile. 

"I'd love to." 

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[seokmattchuus]

Breaking Point - Seok Matthew

"You've known each other for so long, aren't you sick of spending so much time together?" Gyuvin raised a brow as you and Matthew entered his frat house together. "I've never seen either of you on your own. Is it like, Stockholm syndrome or something?" His eyes narrowed as he tried to think it through.

"Do you think I want to keep this one around?" Matthew raised his own brow, his index finger moving to point at you. "I tried to get her to date in high school to get her off my back but none of the relationships lasted a month." He scoffed.

You rolled your eyes at the statement.

"Says the one who didn't even date." You scoffed. "Not that you had a choice, anyways."

"It's not my fault I got hot after graduation." He turned to look at you. He was always sensitive about being a late bloomer.

"Oh, you had a minor glow up and now you think you're hot." You turned to him. "You could be in an Airheads commercial with how big your head's gotten."

Gyuvin stared at the both of you, his eyes switching back and forth as you argued.

"Y/n. Matthew." He started. "If either of you need to get laid, that can be arranged."

"Please." Matthew laughed. "She gets attached too easily to have one-night stands."

You let out a scoff of disbelief at his words.

"As if you could please anyone here." You started. "You were a virgin for so long, I would bet money that you don't even know what the clit is."

"You two just got here, god damn." Gyuvin looked between the both of you in disbelief. "Are you best friends or siblings??"

"As if I'd-" You started but Ricky came up.

"I've never seen anyone walk into a party and stay by the door." He laughed. "You two look like you could use a break from each other." He said before handing you a cup and putting a hand on your lower waist.

A move that didn't go unnoticed by Matthew, his eyes locked on Ricky's hand.

And Matthew's move not going unnoticed by Gyuvin.

"He started it!" You whined as you took the cup, letting Ricky lead you through the building. "He's always talking shit."

"Anything piss him off lately?" Ricky said as he led you to a couch.

You rolled your eyes before bringing the cup to your lips, a mix of strawberry rum and sprite greeting your tastebuds.

"You always make my favorite." You smiled at him.

"I heard you come in. I figured you could use it." He laughed.

"But he's had a stick up his ass all week." You sighed. "You know how Hanbin asked Haneul to set us up? Well Matthew was fine with it at first, but after our third unofficial date, he's been trying to get me to ghost him." You rolled your eyes. "You know he even took my phone on 'accident' the other day? He had it for the whole day after our class!" Your voice was getting louder as you felt yourself getting worked up. "It's childish!"

"Sounds like you could use another drink." Ricky laughed as his eyes shifted towards the door. "But I think he has his reasons."

Your eyes followed his to see Matthew arguing with Hanbin before walking away. You'd be lying if you said you didn't notice the girl next to him but it's not like you were dating. The two of you were still talking. And casually meeting up.

Friends with benefits if you will.

"I don't care if he has reasons." You scoffed. "For someone who used to be a little bitch, he's sure gotten obnoxiously ballsy."

"Matthew? A little bitch?" Ricky smirked in amusement. "I don't see it." He shook his head with a laugh, finally bringing his cup to his lips.

"Dude." You shook your head, your eyes widening. "He used to be scared of bugs." You started. "If he even heard someone talking about a horror movie, he had to leave because it was getting to him." You chuckled.

"Oh! And there was one time where we had a field trip in high school," You paused to take another sip of your drink. "Someone he was rooming with snuck in alcohol and you know what that boy did?" You held back a snort. "He was so scared of getting in trouble that he texted his mom." You emphasized the last three words. "She called the teachers and of course, they got in trouble, but who snitches like that?" You narrowed your eyes at the gall past Matthew had.

"When he told me about still getting in trouble, I told him they at least should have drank it." You scoffed before taking another sip. "Like, you did it to not get in trouble and you still did. Might as well have had fun."

Ricky kept his eyes on you, and you weren't sure if he just didn't believe you or if he was thinking back on Matthew's behavior to see if he ever caught him slipping up.

Either way, the anger from before was fading and you were finally starting to enjoy yourself.

-

You hadn't seen Matthew since Ricky pointed him out and you were starting to forget you even came with him.

Until Ricky led you to the outside table group that Matthew was a part of.

"We're playing 'truth or drink'." Gyuvin gave a boyish smile. He was clearly a few drinks in. "You can sit here by me and Ricky." He motioned his arm to the chairs next to him. "If it's okay with Matt, of course." He smirked towards him as if saying something.

Matthew rolled his eyes for what you would call the billionth time today.

"It's not like he owns me." You mumbled bitterly as you sat next to Gyuvin, Ricky taking the spot next to you and throwing an arm over your shoulder. "Plus, I used to beat him up in high school." You said as you gave Ricky your cup to refill. "He knows better."

"Oh~~" The crowd around you teased and you looked towards Matthew who was less than amused.

-

As the game went on, there had been a bunch of answers to questions you never wanted to ask. But of course, the questions got better the more you got into it.

"Y/n!" An adorable blonde whose name you couldn't remember. You swore it was something with 'Chae', or maybe 'Na', but your brain was too fuzzy to remember. "You've been talking about how different Matt used to be." She started with a drunken giggle. "What's something that hasn't changed about him?"

Matthew's head turned towards you to shoot you a glare, but you didn't give him a chance to get to you.

"He's terrified of bugs." You held back a laugh as you thought about a time in fifth grade. "Any kind of bug. Big, small, wings, you name it, he'-"

A hand came up to cover your mouth and you turned to see Matthew himself leaning over the chair that Gyuvin was previously in. You gave him some sort of half-glare, half-pout, your hand coming up to drag his hand away.

It didn't work of course.

"Let her finish!" The girl who asked whined.

"Yeah, don't get on her bad side." Ricky laughed with a smirk. "She might beat you up again."

"It was this huge moth that flew into class, and I freaked out." Matthew said flatly, his hand still firm against your mouth.

You narrowed your eyes at him. He was lying of course, and as the only person around who knew him that well, you couldn't let these people be lied to.

You bit his hand and he pulled away almost immediately.

"No!" You yelled out as soon as his hand was away. "It was a butterfly!" You started laughed at the memory. "A fucking butterfly!!"

The table filled with laughter, but you couldn't bring yourself to stop there. After the week Matthew put you through, you could call things even after this.

"He screamed so loud, and he wouldn't stop until the teacher caught it and opened the window to let it out!" You leaned back onto Ricky's shoulder as you started to shake with laughter. The image of little Matthew screaming and pointing at the butterfly seemed so much funnier after a few drinks.

Everyone else seemed to be in an amused shock at the stark contrast from young Matthew to the person he was today. But Matthew couldn't keep the scowl off his face.

You had gotten yourself so lost in another question that you missed Ricky motioning to Matthew for something.

"Isn't it time to get you home?" Ricky shook the shoulder you were on to get your attention. "Aren't your roommates gonna worry?"

You whined at the thought.

"They left me." You pouted up at him. "They're out camping this weekend." You pushed yourself off his shoulder just to fall all the way to the other side.

Onto Matthew.

"Don't you think you've had enough to drink?" He said, annoyance taking over as he tried to get you to sit up.

"It's not like I was trying to lean on you." You gave him a scowl, or at least the best you could muster. "Gyuvin's supposed to be there, anyways."

"Yeah, you're done." He said, before grabbing your phone and standing up. "Let's get you home."

You looked to Ricky for help.

"I can't help you there, princess." He shrugged. "I don't even know where you live."

You were about to respond when you felt Matthew grab your arm to pull you up. When you lost your balance, he put your arm over his, sighing when you pulled away and stumbled again.

"Just hold on, please." He groaned. "If you fall, you're going to cry and I'm never going to let you live it down."

"I'm not even that drunk." You mumbled. "I can just go home with Ricky."

You knew what the answer to that would be, but you were petty at heart, and you were going to make this the worst possible situation for him.

"You sure your boyfriend would appreciate that?" He raised a brow.

"I don't have a boyfriend." You came back, your head held high.

"That's not what you were saying about H-"

You immediately found your footing as you forced your hand over his mouth.

"I swear on every higher power out there that I will kill you if you finish that sentence." You narrowed your eyes at him.

In true best friend fashion, Matthew responded by biting your hand so you'd pull away.

Payback was big between the both of you.

"My silence can be bought." He smiled bitterly at you before motioning with his arms for you to go before him. "Get to stepping."

-

You had spent most of the walk back to your place in silence. You didn't want to be the first to talk, and Matthew wasn't over your dramatic retelling of the butterfly story.

You didn't mind it though, after a week full of his yapping, you weren't that interested in getting him started again.

"You do have your key on you, right?" He said as you both approached the door. "Last thing we need is to get locked out."

"Do you have, like, zero faith in me?" You turned to ask him as you slid your hand into the tiny pocket of your shorts, pulling out a single key.

"Do you not own something to put the key on?" Matthew questioned as if you were insane.

"In this outfit?" You asked as if it was the dumbest statement on earth. "It would stick out and look gross." You frowned, trying, and failing, to stick the key in properly.

"You always look gross." He mumbled before taking the key from you and easily sliding it in to unlock the door.

"The rest of the keychain is right there." You mumbled as you walked past him and flopped onto the couch, the alcohol in your system starting to set in.

He rolled his eyes before reattaching the key onto the ring before turning back to you.

"You could just give me your keys next time, y'know?" His hands were gently trying to slide your shoes off without pulling too hard. "I have pockets that aren't two millimeters deep."

"That would require talking to you." You sighed, pulling your leg back to help him get the shoes off. "You haven't been the easiest to do that with."

He'd never minded when you dated people, and of course, he's yet to have anything more than a one-night stand with anyone so you never had the chance to care. But you never minded his sexcapades. You were happy, in fact. He was finally comfortable enough in his own skin to talk to women. How could you hate that? But the back and forth between being supportive of your situationships and then being upset was messing with you.

Hanbin wasn't the first time it had happened, but it was definitely the most committed he'd been in attempting to sabotage.

The first time it happened was about two years ago. You had just started college and someone from class had asked you out to coffee. Matthew insisted on hiding out to make sure he wasn't a creep, and you couldn't believe him. Nor talk him out of it.

When the guy did turn out to be a creep, you didn't hear the end of it.

"I told you so."

"What do you think would have happened if I wasn't there?"

"Can't you just say, 'thank you' and move on?"

That marked the beginning of Matthew's wishy-washy behavior towards your love life.

You'd be thankful if he wasn't such a dick about it.

"Don't tell me you passed out on me." He spoke up after putting your shoes away. You must have been too busy in your thoughts to realize he got the other one off. "I can't let you fall asleep on the couch, you're gonna kill me."

When he saw you were awake, he tilted his head.

"What's on your mind?" He asked. "You're not saying something bitchy."

You tiredly rolled your eyes.

"I'd say you're on my mind but your ego's too big for that."

"There she is." He smiled before reaching a hand out. "Let me get you to bed and you can cuss me out all you want."

"I'd rather fight you." You crossed your arms and rolled over to face the back of the couch so he couldn't help you up. "I'll sleep here. You sleep on the bed."

"You'd lose." He started before trying to roll you back over. "And remember the last time I let you sleep on the couch? You blamed me for the kink in your neck for a week."

You continued fighting him, wanting nothing more than for him to just go to bed in the other room. If you looked at him, you were scared you'd let everything out.

"I'm drunk, you know. The more you shake me, I might throw up on you."

"Nothing you haven't done before."

His response was quick and for some reason, it pissed you off more.

"Do you have an answer for everything?" You turned towards him.

And just your luck.

You turned at the same time that he pulled you.

Leading your face to end right in front of his.

It wasn't your intention, but you couldn't speak. You could only offer a small hiccup.

The silence felt suffocating as you both stared at each other. No words. No sounds.

Just another hiccup.

"I'm no better than Hanbin if I do what I want to right now." He whispered but his voice was mildly strained, as if he was holding himself back.

Maybe it was the alcohol, but the sudden closeness threw you off. You couldn't think, you couldn't speak, and you barely managed to hear what he just said.

Barely.

"This is your last chance to pick between the bed and the couch." He said, his voice just above a whisper this time. "Because I'll take the bed and lock you out."

You quickly slid out from under him and gave a small 'night' as you rushed to your room and closed the door. You barely made it to the bed before you dragged your hands down your face.

What the fuck was that?

Who the fuck were you?

And what the fuck did he mean by that?

You quickly threw on some sleeping clothes and got into bed. You were slightly dizzy but now that you were laying down, all you had to do was close your eyes and hope what he said was just the alcohol talking.

-

When your eyes opened your room was still dark. You sighed in relief as that meant it was still night.

Your throat was dry, and you weighed the possibilities of Matthew still being awake and you dying of thirst. You patted around for your phone and cringed when you saw the bright "4:57" flash across your screen.

It was highly possible he was awake.

But you also felt like a dry sponge.

Fuck it.

You slowly opened the door and tried to move as quietly as possible.

"Matthew?" You called out in a whisper, hoping he wouldn't answer. "You awake?"

When there was no answer, you quickened your pace.

As you slowly opened the fridge door, the last words he said to you lingered in your head. You didn't know if you imagined it or not, but there was no harm in venting to deaf ears, right?

"What did you mean by what you said earlier?" You whispered as you grabbed a water bottle and closed the door, sliding down it to sit on the floor. "Why do you give me mixed signals all the time?" Your voice was quieter this time, as if his dream self would hear you.

It was the most cliché thing around and you hated it. 'Best friends to lovers', 'childhood friends to lovers', 'friends who secretly love each other', and of course the 'unrequited love towards your best friend' trope.

The thought alone made you gag. They were the oldest in the book.

You had to be better than that, right?

Right?

You couldn't pinpoint exactly when your feelings towards him strayed away from platonic, but what you did know was that he wasn't making it any easier.

"Y/n?" He sleepily called out and you moved to sit behind the counter.

Wait.

This was your place.

Why were you hiding?

"Just getting some water." You spoke before clearing your throat. "Go back to bed."

You closed your eyes at how stupid the situation was. Could you be anymore cliché?

"It's like, five in the morning?" He sounded closer and you thought about booking it back to your room. "Why are you on the floor?"

You looked up and he was rubbing his eyes. Even in the dark you could see his messy hair and you felt your heart jump.

"Floor time?" You tried.

"Floor time?" He repeated, standing in the same spot as his eyes continued to adjust. "That's evening activities, not early morning."

You tried your best to bring out the feisty so you looked normal to him.

"I was dizzy from drinking, can't I sit on my own floor?"

"Do you just hate me or something?" He said. "Or did you hear what I said last night?" He scoffed. "Is this your way of drawing a line?"

Shit.

"What are you talking about?" You said as you got up and put some space between you. "I didn't hear anything."

"Liar." He took a step. "You heard me."

You took a step back.

"I think you're still drunk." You tried. "Talk to me when you're sober." You moved to push past him, but he moved in front of you.

"You drank more than me last night and you know it."

"Don't." You started. "It's not my fault you don't know how to have fun." You tried to walk around him and failed again.

"There's no one here to impress with your little tough act so just drop it." He said. "Let's just talk about what I said."

"Tough act?" You stepped back. "I've always had more balls than you and you know it." You crossed your arms. "Mr. Butterfly phobia."

Even in the dark you could see him roll his eyes.

"Do I still look like the kid you met in second grade?" He took a step towards you, and you took one back. "Do you really still see me as that same kid?" He took another step, as did you, the corner of the table stopping you. "Because I don't see you that way." He took a final step before his eyes traveled lower. "Especially in those fucking shorts."

You quickly stared up at him.

"If you're fucking with me, it isn't funny." Your voice shook as you spoke. You moved to walk past him, but he placed his arms on either side of you, caging you in.

"I'm not fucking with you." He said lowly. "And I heard you earlier." He said.

"I didn't say anything." You weren't one to give in so easily, especially when it didn't benefit you. "Hanbin wants to meet for lunch. If I want any chance at looking decent I need more sleep." You were lying out of your ass but you hoped it would work.

You moved to push his arm but it wasn't moving.

"Hanbin?" His voice was an angry kind of low. "Do you even know what he thinks about you?"

He didn't give you a chance to respond before continuing.

"Do you know how much shit Hanbin's been talking about you? And how much I've had to try and save your feelings by getting you to leave him alone?" He pushed himself off the table. "Sugarcoating this whole situation so you wouldn't be left crying over some fuckface who can't keep his dick to himself?"

You were about to respond when he continued.

"She's so easy." He mocked with air-quotes. "A few outings, a couple fucks, a gift here and there. Now she thinks I'm a changed man." He went on, acting out what you assumed to be Hanbin's exact movements.

He wasn't looking at you as he got caught up in his feelings and you were glad. Even in the dark, you were sure he'd be able to make out your expressions. Your own feelings were coming up and if he wasn't in front of you, you'd have run back to your room.

"She's so stupid." He said the word like it hurt to come out. "Can you believe she thinks I'd actually date her? Why give up my roster for her of all people?"

"You can stop now." You grit your teeth, tears threatening to spill. You didn't expect much out of Hanbin, but hearing what he had to say about you hurt more than it should have.

"I know better?" He repeated your statement from before as he ran his tongue along the inside of his lip, his jaw tensing as he leaned back in. "And what do I know exactly, y/n?" He paused. "That I'm always right and that you never want to listen?"

"But you know better?" He changed his tone, still copying your statements from before. "Just what do you know?"

"I know that you're a dick." You started, gathering all the strength in you to push past him. "And that you are just as bad as Hanbin."

You didn't wait to hear a response before you rushed back to your room and locked the door.

-

You thought falling back asleep would refresh your mind but all you did was toss and turn until the sun finished setting. It didn't help that your head had started to hurt.

You sighed as you pulled your blankets off and sat up, the pain in your head intensifying slightly. You made your way to your restroom, and quickly grabbed the bottle of pain reliever before turning the faucet on to scoop some water with your hand. You quickly popped the pill in and threw your head back. Your first attempt left you gagging, everything but the pill going down. Your second attempt was more successful.

You sighed as you were left with the unpleasant taste. You knew you'd be fucked if you didn't wash it out, but you also knew you'd be fucked if Matthew kept up his attitude from before.

You reluctantly made your way out of the room.

"One would think we live together with how often you're here." You mumbled as he sat at your table eating a bagel. You would have grabbed one, too, if the bag wasn't so close to him. You settled on some juice.

It wasn't out of the norm for him to take care of you the day after you drank, but of all the days, you really wished he'd just go home.

"People already think we're dating." He mumbled back. "It would make sense to them if we lived together." He said before getting up.

"With how much we fight, people think we're siblings." You corrected, more to yourself. "No couple acts like we do."

"Well, most couples already know the other person likes them." He said flatly.

"What's that supposed t-"

"You know exactly what I mean." He cut you off. "How many times are we going to go back and forth like this?" He sighed as he looked towards you. "You know I like you."

The silence settled and you knew you should have been jumping at the chance to say something but part of this just felt like some sick joke.

"You even asked about mixed signals that I tried to clear up and you ran away." He continued his rant. "If you don't want me just fucking say that."

The silence took over again and you wanted to kick yourself. You wanted to tell him his shitty way of clearing things wasn't the move he thought it was. You wanted to tell him that him pretty much calling you an idiot wasn't going to get him anywhere. But the words just weren't coming out.

Why was this so difficult?

"Fine. You want me gone?" He said as he stood up. "I'm going."

You bit your tongue as you watched him grab his stuff before heading to the door. He reached for the knob.

Fuck it.

"And if I do still see you as the same kid I met in elementary?" You called out, feeling a minor surge of victory as his arm fell. "It's not like you've ever acted like anything other than that."

You could hear him scoff but he didn't turn around.

"I mean, you bicker like one." You said. "You beat around the bush like one."

"And you don't?" He said, his back still facing you. "You refuse to listen like one." He started his own list as he finally turned towards you. "And if you're left to your own devices, you get in trouble."

"I may not listen but at least I can say things with my chest." You admitted. "You can't be upset that I don't see you as a man when you've never acted like one."

He dropped his stuff where he was standing, his jaw tensing as he watched you.

"Look who's beating around the bush now."

He took a step.

"This is your way of trying to get me to do something, isn't it?"

Another step.

He was nowhere near you, but the act still made you back up. Talk about déjà vu, but this was different with the lights on.

"I've barely taken two steps towards you, and you can't even handle that." He scoffed. "Maybe I don't 'act like a man' around you because you can't handle it."

Your eyes narrowed at him.

"I can." You challenged. "Hanbin can attest to that." You let a smirk form on your lips as you watched his reaction. Sure, he was a dick, but you meant what you said. And you weren't going to pass up a chance to throw something back at Matthew. "Just admit you're not man enough to act on it."

You were fully aware your words were not matching your actions, but you couldn't back down. This is how your arguments always went.

Faking it 'til you make it.

"Then come here." He motioned with his finger.

You watched as he flicked his finger, and you felt your legs stiffen.

"I'll act on it if you do." He said simply. "I'm scared if I take another step you might stumble." He smirked.

His mocking tone urged you to walk forward, even if everything inside of you screamed to stay still. Every step was a different statement running through your mind.

There's no going back if you do this.

Your relationship won't be the same.

Can you handle losing him if things go south?

The second you were in front of him, though, the way his smirk grew had your mind going blank. His hand reached up to your face, his index finger raising your chin so you were looking up at him.

He leaned in slowly, his thumb moving to rest on your chin and keep you in place.

Your heartbeat was in your ears as his lips finally pressed against yours. It didn't take long for you to kiss him back, your hand coming up to hold onto the wrist of the hand that was supporting your chin.

You could feel him smirk against you before pulling away.

"How's that for beating around the bush?" He whispered as his lips hovered above yours, eye contact never breaking as the hand that was holding your chin moved to the back of your neck. Your hand sliding towards his forearm with the new position.

"Am I supposed to believe a tiny kiss is 'doing something'?" You batted your lashes. "Is this as manly as you get?"

"All you ever do is talk shit, you know that, right?" He smirked as he took a step forward, his other hand coming around to catch you when you backed up.

"It's my specialty." You fought the urge to stumble on your words. "Don't act like you don't love it."

He pulled you closer and the warmth that you met forced a gasp from you.

"Wanna see just how much I love it?" He whispered as his hand traveled to your lower back.

You didn't trust your voice this time. All you could give him was a nod.

"Look at how much better it is when you just listen." He said as he dipped his head down to press a kiss to your jaw, his head nudging yours to the side so he could continue to your neck. "If you spent less time fighting me, I could spend more time making you feel good."

You felt a shiver run down your spine when he kissed a certain spot and you felt him smirk before biting lightly. Your hand that was resting on his arm was now tightening around it.

You wanted to say something but the feeling of his hand that was resting behind you moving under your shirt made you forget what you were going to say.

"Can I touch you?" He whispered, his hand inching closer to your breasts.

You nodded and he stopped. He pulled away and looked down at you.

"Say it."

You could feel your face heat up as the words got stuck in your throat.

"What happened to saying things with your chest, hm?" He hummed, clearly amused at how quickly you seemed to forget your little speech. "Or were you just trying to get me upset?" He gave you a mocking pout.

"You're just a brat." He said, his hand slowly inching back up, the side of his thumb grazing the side of your breast, but not fully touching you. "Acting like you don't want someone who'll just do whatever they want with you." His hand moved under your breast, keeping the same small distance.

Your mind was fuzzy as his hand traveled across your chest to the opposite side. You wanted to admit it, but you were more focused on trying to arch into his touch, a move that he couldn't help but laugh at.

"Even now you're still trying to beat around the bush." He smirked as he pulled his hand away, reveling in how your face fell. "Admit it and I'll give you what you want."

You watched as he moved to lean against the back of the couch. He used his arms for support, and you couldn't help but marvel at the way they flexed.

"And you won't use it against me?" Your voice was smaller than before and you nearly cringed at yourself.

"Not in front of others." He gave you a smirk. "Can't have anyone else thinking you'll act like this for them."

The comment had you trying to hit his shoulder in retaliation but he was quick to grab it.

"I'd play nice while I'm playing nice." He looked down at you.

The way his hand gripped your wrist had you swallowing hard.

"And if I don't want to?" Your voice was still small, but he had to respect your will to keep up the act.

"We can chill like this and stare at each other all day." He smiled sweetly.

The hand that was holding your wrist pulled you into him again.

"We can stay," He paused, his free hand grabbing your other wrist and pinning them both in his hand. "Right. Here." He cocked his head to the side with an innocent smile.

You were holding eye contact more out of spite this time and his hand was back on you, but over your clothes this time.

"Y'know." He started, never breaking eye contact with you as his hands were more committed this time. That damned smile coming back when your body reacted. "I always figured you'd be all bark, no bite." His fingers softly ran over your nipple, and you let out a sigh. "I just thought you'd be begging by now." He said before lightly pinching it.

Your hands instinctively moved, but he kept them in place.

"I also thought you'd be feistier." He chuckled. "But you must really want something if you're not fighting like you usually do." His hand moved to give your other nipple attention. "I bet you want nothing more than for me to bend you over this couch." His words were emphasized with a harsher pinch, and you were embarrassed by the moan that slipped out of you.

He was barely touching you and your legs were already squeezing together.

"You'd like that wouldn't you, baby?" He smiled, his hands pulling your wrists so you were back to being right in front of him. "Just say the word."

You licked your lips before parting them, but as his gaze was more intense, you froze.

"Come on, pretty girl." He coaxed, his hand moving to pet your hair. "Tell me how much of a brat you are." His finger ran over your cheek. "How you talked all that shit just to rile me up." He whispered as he ran his finger over your lower lip. "Tell me how bad you want me."

He was talking so sweetly that you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Please," You whimpered. "Stop teasing."

"You know how to make me stop." He said simply. "Be a good girl and tell me what I wanna hear."

"I want you." You broke. "I want you so bad, please." You whimpered, hands tugging against his hold. "If I'd known you were like this, I'd never have acted up, I swear."

"'Like this'?" He quoted with a raised brow. "And what am I like, pretty girl?"

"Matthew, please." You whined and tugged against his hold again, but he only pulled you impossibly closer.

"What did I say about playing nice?" His voice was lower and you wanted nothing more than to take back everything you said in the past twenty-four hours.

"I didn't think you'd.." You trailed off, suddenly feeling small under his gaze. "Act like this." You swallowed. "...I thought you'd just give me what I want."

"Good girl." He smiled sweetly. "Now apologize for making this harder than it needed to be."

"I-I'm sorry."

"Tell me you want me." He licked his lips. "I'll give in if you tell me one more time." He smirked. "You just sound so pretty asking for me."

All trace amounts of shame that were in you were long gone as you practically begged him to do something.

He was quick to pull you back in for a kiss, his hand releasing your wrist and opting to rest on your ass before giving a harsh squeeze, your moan acting as encouragement. He moved the both of you around the sofa so he could sit, and you happily straddled his lap and hovered, wanting nothing more than for his hands to have room to do whatever they wanted. Your hands grabbed the sides of his face, the need to just touch him taking over.

It was as if he were making up for lost time the way his hands roamed over you before slipping into your pajama shorts from one of the leg holes, the action coaxing a gasp from you.

His fingers slowly slipped under your panties, and he moaned as he slid his fingers towards your clit.

He wanted to make a comment about how wet you were from the bare minimum. He wanted to ask why you were so needy. He wanted to pull away and make a comment about how right you were that he didn't know what a clit was just to make you squirm. He wanted to tell you to beg him to touch you. But the way you sounded was too good for him to want to interrupt. He could talk his shit later.

He was slow and steady with circling your clit as if you weren't nearly dripping. You were sure he could slide into you completely and you'd be more than fine.

"Don't tease." You whispered, your head dropping onto his shoulder.

"Making sure you can take me is teasing?" He chuckled, his finger moving to slide into you. "The last thing you need to bark about it how much you can take." His tone was serious, but you really couldn't handle the foreplay.

"Matthew, I damn near came untouched from you holding me still, just fuck m-" You were cut off as a moan was ripped from you when he roughly inserted two more fingers.

"I told you to play nice twice already." He growled, his hand coming up to grab your hair and make you look at him, the sight of you with your mouth hanging open making him twitch in his pants. "I don't ask three times."

Your legs tried to close but you fucked yourself over when you climbed over his lap.

"You're going to cum from this, then apologize." He told you sternly, his fingers alternating from fast pumps to slow. "If it's a good apology, I'll fuck you like you so desperately want me to." His eyes were back on you. "Is that understood?"

You nodded, but the way his thumb ran over your clit had the words spilling out of you.

"Yes, sir." You whined as the title came out, your eyes screwing shut in partial embarrassment. It was the last thing you wanted him to know.

"And here I thought you were a 'daddy' kinda girl." He smirked as his hold on your hair moved you so he could lean in and press more kisses against your neck, leaving small bites when he felt like it.

"Matthew, please, I'-"

"Ask sir for permission." You could feel him smirk against your neck and you couldn't help but clench. "If you cum without permission, I won't fuck you at all."

"Please, sir, can I cum?" You were glad he couldn't see you. You knew the way the tears were welling your eyes that he'd never let you live it down. "I need to cum, sir, so bad."

And just like that, your luck ran out as he pulled away to look at you.

"Look at me when you cum." His thumb was back on your clit and your body twitched. "If you close your eyes, I'm leaving."

You reluctantly opened your eyes. You didn't need to be told twice if it meant you could let go, your eyes nearly closing from the pleasure. You managed to keep them at a questionable squint, and you hoped Matthew would be okay with it.

As he slid his fingers out of you, your body fell completely onto him. The rough hand in your hair was now softly petting as you tried to catch your beath.

"Now where's that apology?" He said softly when he felt you calm down.

"I'm sorry for not being nice." You'd be ashamed of yourself if he didn't just fuck you up with his fingers alone. Maybe he deserved some sincerity. "I won't make you repeat yourself again, sir."

"Hmm," He hummed as he pretended to think on it. "Do you think you deserved to cum so quickly?"

"No, sir." You shook your head. "Thank you for letting me."

You were starting to fear the heat on your face was now permanent. How were you supposed to move on from this? The idea of maintaining a friendship was gone, but how were you supposed to even look at him after this?

"Do you still want me to bend you over the couch or would you rather stay right here?"

You whined against him at the way he phrased it.

"You'll call me 'sir' but I can't ask where you want it?" He laughed his usual laugh and your heart fluttered. "Come on," He moved you off of him and took his shirt off. "We can do missionary and you can stare at me all you want."

It was your turn to laugh.

"As much as I'd love more eye contact," You chuckled. "I'll take my chances over the couch."

"Don't blame me if you fall off." He smirked.

"Are you saying you'd let me fall?" You gave him your best puppy dog eyes. "That's not very nice, sir."

Instead of words, he grabbed you and pushed you over the back of the couch, your knees steady against the back of the sofa. You were glad to not be looking at him, but something about not knowing what he'd do first was getting to you.

You lightly flinched when your felt his hands at your waist, his hands hooking both your shorts and underwear into his grasp before he pulled them down.

"As much as I'd love to just push them to the side, I don't want to ruin such cute pajamas." You couldn't see him licking his lips as the pieces of clothing landed on your knees.

He ran his hands over your legs, his eyes trained on how goosebumps trailed behind his touch.

"Do you know how many times I thought about this?" He whispered as he took in the scene in front of him. It was more to himself, and he wasn't expecting an answer, but when you spoke up, he couldn't contain himself.

"Don't hold back, then." You whispered. "I'm all yours right now."

You felt a sharp slap on your ass and you hissed.

"You're all mine from now on." He said before slapping the opposite cheek.

The words had you clenching around nothing. You wanted nothing more than to ask him to fuck you, but you were scared he'd get upset again.

"Say it." He said, the sound of his pants shifting filling the silence after the question.

"I'm yours, sir." You repeated. "Always."

You felt him move behind you and place a hand on your back. It wasn't long before you felt him run himself along your folds, the pressure on your clit making your hips buck.

It didn't take long until you felt him teasingly slip himself inside just to pull out, then repeat, pushing himself deeper and deeper with every thrust.

"Fuck," He groaned once he bottomed out, the hand on your back balling into a fist.

"Please," You moaned as you clenched around him. "Matthew, I need you."

The desperation in your voice as you said his name was enough to pull him from his thoughts.

"I'll take it that we really can't go back from this." He groaned as his hands moved to grip your hips for support.

"You're literally inside me, why are you bringing this up," You whined as you gripped the sofa. He would bring up the most irrelevant shit.

"Because -fuck- I need to know this isn't a one-time thing." His voice was strained.

Of all the times to get emotional.

"It will be if you don't shut up." You bit back a moan when his hips sped up. "I'm trying to enjoy this." Your hand reached behind you and without asking, he was quick to hold on.

The interaction was enough to make your stomach tighten, and it wasn't long before you opened you mouth in a failed attempt to ask for permission to let go. He could feel you getting closer and spoke up for you.

"You don't have to, y/n." He ran his finger over your hand. "Just let go."

The gesture had your legs shaking and it confused you. You weren't one to come undone from gentleness in bed. Yet, here you were, Matthew's name falling off your lips as you tried to catch your breath. When he groaned your name as he came, you swore you could cum again on the spot.

When you both calmed down, he slowly pulled out and wrapped his hands around you to pull you off the back of the couch. He moved the both of you so you were laying down, but you moved so you were on his side instead of his chest.

There was a strange silence that took over and you started to wonder if he was regretting it. There was nothing wrong with crossing the line, but what if the realization took over that he couldn't uncross the line? Sure, he mentioned it, but what if that was a heat-of-the-moment thing to say?

As if he read your mind, he spoke up.

"Tell me this wasn't a one-time thing." He looked down at you while his thumb ran lines over your hip.

Maybe it wasn't a heat-of-the-moment type thing.

"Do you think I'd embarrass myself for a one-night stand?" You raised a brow. "After everything you made me say, it better not be a one-time thing."

"And just how did you embarrass yourself?" He chuckled. "The begging? The tears? Screaming my name?"

"You wish I screamed your name." You rolled your eyes. "Be nice or I'm locking you out."

"You'd let me back in." He challenged.

"You sure about that?" You raised a brow.

"Of course, I am." He smirked.

"You listen to me so well."