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gracieheartspedro · 8 months

Text

Trash Talk

abby anderson x fem!reader

description: you and abby anderson go waaayyy back, and she can't stand you. after being distant for years, you can't help but pick on her and get under her skin. you can't help yourself. maybe it's those god damn arms and that cute smile she makes sometimes. so, why not try to bully her enough so she will take you to bed?

word count: 7.1k

warnings: MINORS DNI! this is 18+, nsfw, smut, wlw, some slight bullying, threatening of one's life, murder (reader kills scars), use of guns, dom!abby, fingering, eating out, shower sex, use of a strap on, dirty talk, abby calls reader tons of names, major teasing!!

author's note: first abby one shot. let's goooo! lemme know what you guys think. I really liked writing this and I'm down for any requests for abby or ellie!! love you guysssss <3

“Are you the one braiding your hair every day or do you have some pretty girl do it for you?”

Abby’s head spun over how dumb your questions had been all afternoon. Luckily for her, you were being quiet up until this moment.

You are propped up beside her on the back of the jeep, your rifle slung across your lap. You were itching to get a rise out her today, it was fun to watch her eyes roll into the back of her head.

She cocks her gun, her eyes trained forward and away from you. She’s always on edge when you’re out on patrol. Her furrowed eyebrows and tense shoulders made your relaxed and at ease body language look unjustified.

“I braid it myself,” Is all she says. You train your eyes to watch her muscles flex as she inspects her gun closely. You contemplate your answer, do you ask if she can braid yours next or do you ask if that’s how she got those insane arms of hers.

You don’t make a decision by the time Manny slams on the breaks, unexpectedly. Abby’s body flies into yours, sliding across the bench and crashing into your side. You wince, snapping your head forward to the road.

“We got company, chicas!”

You duck when the first shot hits the steel of the car. Abby grabs your waist, dragging you down onto the bed of the SUV. She didn’t want your death on her hands, knowing Isaac would never forgive her for losing his best gunner. You roll away from her grasp, propping your rifle forward where Manny is driving.

Scars on horseback surround the road in front of you.

They are easy to take out when they are high up, for you at least.

“Manny, duck your head!” You holler, glancing back at Abby who’s hand is still somehow on you. She looks conflicted, her gun still loosely in her grip.

You prop your gun up, aiming at a older man on the closest horse trailing the jeep. He has a bow, which doesn’t move as fast as your bullet. You ease into the trigger, taking out the guy with a head shot. You didn’t have time to think about your reasonings for killing the guy, you never had the time to think about it. You knew that these men would kill Manny, Abby, and you, if they had the chance, so you guess the proper reaction is a bullet to the skull.

You hear Abby yelling something but your ears are ringing at the sound of you taking out each Scar one-by-one. You don’t even let them get behind the SUV, knowing they would be getting a better shot at you. Once the last one flies off the back of their horse at the impact of your bullet, you sit up.

You realize that Abby hasn’t fired a single shot.

“I think we have a flat tire! I’m gonna pull off when I find cover,” Manny explains, his voice loud over the sound of the ringing in your ears.

Abby sits up beside you, gripping the side of the bench with her left hand. She gets a good look at your completely unfazed face and it pisses her off. You never had a moment to second guess your actions and you never had an honest reaction to killing upward of 7 men. You were always stone cold and even. You weren’t always like that. You used to have some life left in your steely eyes. At least, that’s what she thought.

You were disassociated from the entire world when put in any situation that could be deemed “dangerous”. It’s almost like a completely different person took over your body. Your reactions were not your own. But when you finally came to, your bones would vibrate with anxiety and adrenaline. You were just a master at disguising it because you didn’t want everyone around you to see you as weak. You can never be weak, again.

Even if Abby took out that many men, which she has done before, she still walks away with a small inkling of guilt written on her face. You don’t even quiver at the sight of violence and death, not that she sees, anyway.

But it does eat away at you. You’re plagued with nightmares if you can ever even find sleep at night. Most nights are spent curled into a ball, staring off into space, praying the walls will just cave in and suffocate you. You hardly eat most of the time, the thought of munching on food makes you nauseous.

Manny pulls into a familiar warehouse that’s usually a stopping point for one of your patrol routes. The jeep is jittering, chugging forward with a scraping noise. You stand up when it completely stops, jumping down from the side. You sling your backpack over your shoulder and your gun strap across your other.

You watch Abby jump down after you, her impact on the ground loud. She stares at you with this annoyed look on her face.

“What’s wrong, baby girl? Mad you didn’t get a shot off?”

Your tone makes her ball her hands into fists.

“Can you shut your fucking mouth ever?”

Manny chirps in quickly after she says it, “Ay! Quit it you two!”

You bow your head, “Yeah, Abby. You need to blow off some steam. Gettin’ all worked up.”

Manny slaps your shoulder lightly, gesturing you two to get inside the warehouse. You knew you had to clear it before you settled in to discuss the next game plan. You stand there watching Abby strut towards you, her eyes scanning your body up and down.

She is only a little bit taller than you, but she’s built like an ox. When you two were acquainted, she was about your stature. Now that she needs to prove herself, she bulked up and became even more hot.

“You’re lucky Isaac needs your ass, because if were up to me, I’d send you straight to the Island and watch them pick you apart.”

Her voice is vicious and you could tell she was pissed at you for teasing her. It only made you smile in sick pleasure. You craved getting under her skin.

“Love it when you talk dirty to me, Abs.”

She ignores your comment, knowing exactly what you were trying to do. You were doing it so well, too.

You three creep inside the warehouse, stalking around the open area, ensuring there’s no one nearby to sneak up on you. Your running low on ammo, but you didn’t want to ask Abby for a new magazine. She would bitch you out for not grabbing an extra. With that in mind, you sling your rifle across your back and pull out your pistol. You cock it, which interupts the silence you three had been settling in.

“A pistol?” Manny questions, quietly. You nod slowly, discharging the magazine to make sure you had a stacked shell.

You huff, “Yeah, I’m out of hallow points for the rifle.”

Abby stops in her tracks, “You forgot another magazine, didn’t you?”

She wanted so badly to be right, especially when it came to you fucking up. You stare at her as you shove the magazine back into the grip.

“Eat my ass, Abby.”

She laughs, watching your face fall as you cock the gun again. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Manny grimaces, “Please, stop, you two. Let’s get this place clear and then figure out what we do next.”

Manny was right. You and Abby separate, both of you trailing up some stairs to the extended area of the warehouse. You check every corner on your side, ensuring no one will be sneaky and catch you all off guard. Once you all decide it’s clear, you meet up at the staircase Manny is walking down.

Manny was a good friend and a rare hookup. You had slept with him a couple times and while he was always a generous guy, he never made you cum. He always joked that it was because you liked girls better, and truthfully, he may be right. He was handsome but he never really did it for you.

Abby, on the other hand, you and her went way back and she did it for you. Before becoming Isaac’s favorite, you were pretty good friends with her. You two sat together in “school” and she taught you how to make someone pass out by putting them in a headlock. You had confided in her about your past and she was the only one who truly knew everything. You genuinely liked her and wanted so badly to tell her how you felt. But once Isaac took interest in your skill set, he trained you vigorously with his top men. You had no time for anything anymore. It pissed Abby off so much, for some odd reason. You’d think a friend would be proud that the head honcho took interest in you and wanted to make you better. But instead, Abby took it as a personal jab and started ignoring you. When you confronted her, she told you that she was too busy for friends. That, of course, didn’t stop her from having a whole ass friend group without you. When you befriended Manny, he told you that Abby only saw you as competition.

So you became even better. Not wanting to repeat the same mistake, you kept everyone at an arms length and avoided getting close with anyone. It made you withdrawn, and eventually, you realized you were not meant to be a friend to anyone. You were made to be a killer.

“So what do we do now? Go back or go to our assigned checkpoint?”

Abby’s training her eyes on Manny and Manny only. She refuses to even glance your direction. You turn your gun safety on and tuck it into your waistband.

“How far do you think we are from the checkpoint?” You question, crossing your arms across your chest.

“Too fuckin’ far,” Abby responds, still not looking at you.

You smirk, “Perfect, then let’s do that. Maybe Abby can get her finger on a trigge-“

Before you can finish your sentence, Abby’s reaching out and pulling your body towards her by your shirt. You don’t even flinch, your body just flies forward as she finally stares daggers into you. You like being this close to her, it makes the hair on your arms stand up.

“I swear to God,” She’s gritting her teeth, “If you don’t stop fucking around, I’ll kill you with my bare hands.”

You press yourself closer to her. Her fist with your balled up shirt grazes your boobs. Manny doesn’t say anything, just rolls his eyes, anticipating your response. You like this game. The one where you tease Abby and she becomes enraged by your words and eventually it comes to a tipping point. She’s always just thrown something, her manhandling you was new.

“I’d love to see you try, sweetheart,” You mutter, your face millimeters from hers, “I don’t think you’re remembering what our body counts are and who’s surpassing the other by a fucking landslide.”

“I’d love to add you to mine, that’s for damn sure,” She responds quickly, eager to one up you. You giggle at the double meaning that comes to mind. You would like to be on her body count list, for sure.

“Stop it!”

You both shoot a look at Manny who’s nudging you two apart. Abby unhands your shirt, and you step backward away from her, tripping a bit over some broken concrete. She looks you up and down with disgust.

“You need to stop acting like you’re better than everyone else,” She grumbles, ignoring Manny’s pleas for a truce.

“You need to stop acting so serious all the time! Get a grip, I’m just fuckin’ with you.”

“I said stop! I knew you guys hated one another but I didn’t know this was gonna be a who’s dick is bigger competition. You both need to relax!”

Abby’s face is twisted and you hated that you found it attractive. God, you wanted to fucking hate her.

Abby crosses her arms, flexing them right in front of you. She notices your expression change. She knew you had a little crush before, but she thought that feeling was long gone. She shoves the small inkling of optimism that you may still feel that way down.

Manny speaks up again, “We should just head back and tell Isaac we will head back out tomorrow morning. It’s going to be dark in about an hour. It’s too risky.”

“Agreed,” Abby tightens up her folded arms, “If you wanna go out by yourself, you can do that. We can tell Isaac you went awol.”

You smirk at her suggestion, “No, I want to be there to tell him you can’t pull your punches. Be way more satisfying to watch you squirm.”

“I’m glad everyone was okay,” Isaac says, his deep voice dropping an octave, “I’ll get more guys to go with you tomorrow morning. You three get back here at sunrise, okay?”

You clear your throat, “Want me to run through how to shoot a gun with Abby before we ship out?”

Manny huffs, “Come on, dude.”

“I think she’d benefit from it,” You say matter-of-factly to Isaac. You can feel Abby’s gaze burning into you. She’s leaning against the door frame, while you are seated in front of Isaac’s sprawling desk. You always felt like he only sat there to seem more authoritative. To you, he was just a man.

“Play nice, little one,” He stands up from his rolling chair to stand in front of your manspreaded legs, “You still need to prove to me that you’re loyal. Don’t think I forgot about the incident at the hospital last week.”

Your stomach drops while Abby’s ears perk up.

“What happened at the hospital last week?”

Her voice is eager, which only makes you angrier. You adjust yourself in your seat, sitting up straighter.

“She refused to kill a Scar,” He explains, teetering over you, “She shot a Wolf instead.”

“He demanded I gut a child in front of her mother. I am not going to do shit like that.”

Isaac chuckles before slamming his fist down on the table beside him, “You can and you fuckin’ will. If I get any more push back from you, I’ll get Anderson here to take you out herself.”

You stand up quickly, avoiding everyone’s gazes. You want to throw your knife into his throat, but you know that wouldn’t end well. You didn’t want to have to be on the run again.

Being humiliated in front of Abby and Manny made you feel sick. You hadn’t felt shame in so long, not even when you were reprimanded last week for shooting that guy between the eyes. You were lucky he was just some new recruit and had no family back at the Stadium. Isaac spared you because he needs you. You’re a good asset.

“We clear?”

His voice bounces off the wall. You don’t say anything, you just nod slightly and storm out of the office. You hear the door slam behind you as you swiftly walk towards the staircase. There’s men loitering in the hallway, waiting for Isaac to tell them to go kill another Scar. Pathetic, you thought.

You start to think about how didn’t want to face Abby and Manny tomorrow, but you knew better to ignore direct orders. Maybe a shower would rinse off the disgusting dirty feeling that plagued your skin.

“Didn’t know I was workin’ with a traitor today,” Abby says from behind you. You’re in the community bathrooms, cursing that it’s even a thing because you knew some shit like this would happen. You thought since it was midnight, you wouldn’t have any company. You were, of course, wrong.

Abby has her towel draped over her broad shoulder and a small container with her soaps. You were just about to strip down and take one of the spickets on the tiled wall when she interrupts your routine.

You swallow hard, not in the mood to argue with her. Even if there’s no one around, you don’t feel like entertaining anymore.

“‘M not a traitor. I just don’t kill children.”

You had very limited morals, but you drew the line at children. You remember what it was like to watch your friends get picked off by raiders when you were a kid. You remember being horrified hearing the screams of their mothers. You remember the innocence being stripped from you. You can’t stomach the idea of killing someone who has no control over their life or the decisions of others, so you don’t.

Isaac showed no mercy to any Scar, but you did and he was trying his very hardest to beat that out of you. The only reason you were stuck on the patrol with Manny and Abby in the first place was because he knocked you down to more minor runs and not the intense ones you were on before. It was your “punishment” for disrespecting authority. You were lucky to even have your head after killing that guy in front of other Wolves.

Abby grumbles something inaudible.

“You remember when we were forced to watch those daycare kids after not doing our morning mile?” You reflect, thinking back to easier times with Abby, “Imagine one of those innocent kids being gutted by a machete and it’s your own hand doing it. If a child is going to die in the name of some stupid land, I don’t want to be the one holding the weapon. Isaac can have sociopaths like you to do that.”

“Me? The sociopath? If I’m remembering correctly, they gave you the nickname Heartless after your run through on the East side a couple months ago,” Abby’s voice is venmous, “You are the top Scar killer right now. You kill and you don’t even flinch.”

“I kill people who try to kill me,” You grab the hem of your top, pulling it over your head, “I need to protect myself. And whoever I’m with. I’m not given a choice.”

“Was that guy trying to kill you? The one you shot between the eyes?”

You’re silent. She poses a good question, a question you don’t have a good answer for. You turn to face her, and the first thing you realize is her braid is becoming unraveled. You purse your lips, racking your brain for a response after being distracted. The only rebuttal is a question, something that has eaten you alive ever since it started.

“Why do you hate me so fuckin’ much?”

She cocks her head to the side, “Are you serious right now?”

Deep down, Abby never hated you. She was jealous of you. She wanted everything you had. She couldn’t stand seeing someone be better than her, especially a girl she liked. And you did everything so well. She harbored a secret crush on you for a while, even when she was with Owen. She hated that she liked you and you were leaving her behind to advance up the ranks. She only wanted your attention, truthfully. Now, since she distanced herself from you, everything you did ate her alive. While poking fun at her was your way of flirting, Abby reeled over it every night before bed. How could you be so mean?

“We were friends, Abby. I told you about my family. I told you everything, and as soon as I got in with Isaac, you iced me out. Told me you didn’t need friends,” You huff out, “I knew that was a lie then and I know it’s a fuckin’ lie now because you have friends. Lots of them. Why couldn’t I be your friend?”

“Because I can’t be friends with you!”

Her voice is high pitched, almost shaky. You take a step forward and for once she doesn’t step away from you. You’re in her space, your hip bone millimeters from her hands. Your eyes are trained on her reaction, which is just her eyes averting away from you.

“Why can’t we be friends, Abs?”

You reach up, grabbing her messy braid softly. She flinches a bit, easing into the idea of you touching her. It’s been a long time since you were this close to her without her resisting. She still won’t look you in the eyes. Your fingers travel down her mousey braid until you’re trailing her collarbone and wide shoulders. As your digits trace her bicep, she finally looks at you for a moment. The tension is palpable, your question still hanging in the air.

“You’re impossible,” She murmurs, her eyes flicking away again, “And you’re despicable. You think you’re bett-”

“Cut the shit,” Your hand stops right at her wrist and you wrap your much smaller hand around it. You know the real reason she won’t be your friend, it’s written all over her face, “You hate me because you want me, Abby. You always have. Almost as much as I want you.”

“Want is a strong word,” She chirps, “I was in a relationship when we were friends. I had Ow-”

“Don’t even say his fuckin’ name,” Your free hand tilts her head back toward your gaze. You hated that fucker for messing with your Abby, “Can you just indulge me? Admit that the reason you’re pissy with me is because you want me between your legs?”

You can feel her tense up, her jaw going slack.

“Nah, don’t think that’s what I want,” Her voice finally changes. It’s more sultry, the tone shifting with the conversation. She shakes out of your grip, bringing her hand up to your chin, “Think I need to teach you a thing or two. Shut that stupid smart mouth up for a minute.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah, you’ve been a fuckin’ bitch and you need to be taught a lesson,” Hearing the words come out her mouth has your core clenching with anticipation. She’s silent waiting for you to agree, but you just stare at her with a smirk. “Do you need me to show you here or do you want me to show you in your room?”

“Why not yours?”

“Because Manny is there. Unless you want to give him a show like the slut I know you are.”

She makes the hair on your arms stand up. She scans your body as you contemplate your options. This is a moment you’d been waiting for, so you can’t fuck it up. You finally have her exactly where you want her.

You can’t be caked in dirt and grime when she’s devouring you, right?

“I need a shower,” You mutter. It catches her off guard. You swallow before continuing, “I think you need one, too. So, how about we take our showers and then you can walk me back to my room.”

She doesn’t even say anything, just begins stripping off her tank top. She’s sporting a black sports bra underneath and my God, does she look good in only a bra. You have seen her in a bra before, but never with a six pack and huge arms like she has now. She smiles at your gawking. She shoves off her cargo pants, leaving her just in her underwear and bra.

You finally come to your senses and start stripping as she walks over to one of the shower heads and turns it on. She looks excellent from the back, too, you think.

“We don’t have all night,” She groans, watching you slowly start undoing your bra, “Hurry up before I change my mind.”

You walk towards the shower head next to the one that’s running for her. She pulls the hem of her bra up and off, revealing her full chest to you. You follow her lead, undoing the back of your bra and letting your breasts free. The water is soaking your feet and you still have your underwear on. It’s almost like a competition as to who can break first and touch the other, and it wasn’t going to be you. You shimmy your underwear off, tossing both your bra and panties to the pile outside of the shower.

“Jesus Christ,” She howls as you let the water take over your body. Her eyes are glued to your chest, “It’s like they got bigger.”

You sneer at her comment, “I could say the same about you in general.”

“Yeah?” She slips off her underwear, leaving nothing to imagination anymore. She caves first, creeping into your stream of hot water with you and wrapping her large arms around your waist. Chills shoot up every part of your body when her lips dip down to leave open mouth kisses on your shoulder blade. Her hands trail upward from your hips to your stomach to your tits. You watch in disbelief when her massive hands take up most of your boobs. She cradles them in her palms before massaging you tenderly. You’re already a moaning mess, pushing your ass into her crotch.

“Let’s get you clean since that’s what you want,” She drops your boobs before reaching out for her soap. She starts to lather herself up before her hands return to your buzzing body. You let her hands wander, coating you in her pine soap. You didn’t care for the scent, but it smelled like her and you always wanted that scent on your body.

She manhandles you a bit before using your arm to twist you around to face her. She’s staring down at you, her pupils dark with desire. You realize her hair is still in a braid and resting on her bare shoulder. While she continues to rub you down, you grab the end of her braid and start to undo it.

When her wavy hair is released from the hair tie, you realize how long it is now. No wonder she keeps it braided, it must get in her way.

“May need to rebraid your hair,” You mutter, your hand still dancing around her decolletage.

“I’ll just have you hold it up while I eat you out.”

You smirk as she focuses her attention on pinching and tugging on your hard nipples. You ogle her, unsure how you got here. Earlier she was threatening to kill you, now she’s toying with your body and leaving you the wettest you’ve ever been. She backs you into the water, having you rinse off the suds.

“Abby,” You finally catch her gaze and her lips are pursed in concentration. She looks at your expression and then it finally happens. She kisses you, feverishly. You almost slip on the wet floor as she aggressively pushes you back against the tiled wall. Luckily, her arm is completely enveloping your hip, keeping you stable against her. Your bodies are wet and burning with desire, eager to touch every inch of each other. Abby pulls away, catching her breath.

“We need to speed this part up, I need to fuck you.”

You chuckle, wrapping your arms around her neck, “We are having fun though, aren’t we?”

She shakes her head, “Rinse yourself off, no more back talk.”

She pulls away from you, quickly showering herself. You don’t even wash your hair like you need to, you just watch her lather her body up, slowly circling your clit with your middle and pointer finger. She does not even realize what you’re doing until you are moaning in her direction.

“You’re a dirty little girl, aren’t you?”

She pulls your hand away from your sensitive nub, using you as leverage when she gets on her knees. She’s staring up at you, pulling you forward by your ass. She looks too good at this angle.

“Please, Abby,” You beg, wanting her to devour you whole.

“Hold my hair, baby. Just like I said.”

She nudges your knees apart, her face centimeters from your dripping core. She uses her long fingers to spread apart your pussy lips, soaking in the fact that she was the one who made you this wet. You reach down, pulling her long locks upward to get them off her shoulders. When she creeps in closer, her tongue is extended outward. As soon as it makes contact with your slit, you throw your head back, your hand full of hair loosening. She works her tongue around your pussy, pressing forward even more. She has her full face in you, her nose poking your clit every time she moves her tongue and lips.

You’ve never been eaten out like this before. She’s a starved woman, begging you to feed her your sweet juices. Your knees feel like they could give out at any moment, so you grip onto her shoulder to balance yourself. She’s switching between slurping and sucking, her mouth working magic on your senstive pussy.

Just when you think her head can’t get any better, her fingers enter the equation. She slips her long fingers between your slit, finding your hole after exploring for a moment. She guides one finger into you, then two. She’s groaning into you, watching your body twitch under her touch. She’s fucking you so fast, you can feel yourself teetering over the edge. She switches up her moves, flicking her tongue on your clit and fucking you slower. It sends you into bliss, your mouth agape as you stare down at her pressed against your core. You cry out, trying your best not to let your legs surrender to your weight.

“Yes baby,” She watches you fall apart, her finger tips swiping over your clit fast, “That’s right, cumming apart on my tongue. That’s so hot.”

Your vision is hazy, but you can still make out Abby as she stands up. Her hands rest on your waist as she brings you into a ravenous kiss. You’re still in a daze from your orgasm as she shuts off the warm water behind you. She’s guiding you out of the showers, bringing you back to your clothes and towel. She helps you by wrapping your towel around your center.

“You okay to walk back to your room?” She questions, watching you shakingly dry yourself off.

You chuckle a bit, “Why? Do you want to carry me or something?”

She gives you a smug look, “Do you need me to?”

You want to smack the expression clear off her face. The freckles that litter her face scrunch in a teasing manner, which makes you melt a bit. You continue drying off before you throw back on your pants and shirt. You would be taking them off within the next two minutes, anyway, but you had to make it through the main hallways.

Abby does the same thing before she gathers all her belongings and waits for you. As you rake your fingers through your hair, she jokingly starts tapping her foot.

“Can you relax?”

She shakes her head “no”. You roll your eyes, grabbing all your things and leading the way to your room.

Abby knew your room would be better because you were graced with a room all by yourself. Courtesy of being Isaac’s top dog.

You were vigilant about keeping a clean suite, always making sure your limited belongings had a place. You did not have people in your room often, so you were a bit nervous to have Abby Anderson in your room.

She trails behind you closely, grunting every so often to indicate her impatience. Once you're outside your room, you unlock it with the key around your neck. It was easier to keep it on your chain, you hated stuffing your pockets with loose items.

The cold air hits your skin. You were known for keeping a cold room. You always ran hot at night and you refused to sweat. When Abby walks into your suite, she starts to laugh. You lay down your towel and undergarments.

“What’s so funny?” You ask, your wet hair sticking to your shoulders.

“You haven’t changed at all,” She grumbles, tossing her stuff in a pile beside your front door. The comment takes you off guard, simply because you spent years trying to be someone different.

“Why do you think that?”

“You are still so Type A,” She’s bounding towards you, stopping centimeters from your still-orgasm-dazed body, “You always run hot. It’s fuckin’ freezing in here.”

She’s cowering over you, her hot breath getting closer to your face. Before she can kiss you, she averts her head to the crook of your neck.

“You still smell of lavender,” She kisses your pulse point before continuing, “And you need attention or else you’ll die. You thrive off pissing everyone off.”

“Especially you,” You practically moan as she continues to kiss your throat. When you say that, she lifts her head and stares down at you. She’s so symmetrical and beautiful. You loved seeing every freckle, every wrinkle of her nose. The fullness of her pink lips.

“Especially me, that’s right.”

She pulls you in again, this time using her large hands to push your ass forward, capturing your lips as you melt into her grip. You move fluidly with her direction, peeling off your clothes again and frenching her when her lips slip open. Your tongues battle but you fully submit when she slowly bites down. She’s hungry for more.

You grab onto her forearms, tugging her towards your full size bed in the corner of the room.

You always kept your blinds drawn, not allowing the large windows to expose your personal space. You’re silently thanking the angels for your obsessiveness because if someone spotted you and Abby right now, it would somehow get back to Isaac. He would have a cow if he found you two messing around. That’s too much of a distraction and you need to focus on the “mission”.

Well, right now your mission is to make Abby cum.

You two fall on the bed, her hands still resting on the curve of your ass. She groans when you pull away from her lips. You tug at her shirt, gesturing to her to rid herself of her clothes. She obliges and she’s finally naked in your bed. You could die happy.

You were too caught up in her touching you earlier, now you want to feel her. When the cold air touches her nipples, you notice them stand at attention. You practically fall into her chest, latching your mouth onto her tits, sucking the skin. She moans out, her hips reacting by pressing forward into you. You swirl your wet tongue around her areola, teasing her sensitive nipples.

“God damn,” She whimpers, her hands exploring your hips. You use your teeth, nibbling slightly as you pull away from her one boob. She falls onto her back, releasing you from her grip. You crawl on top of her, straddling her waist with your thighs. You press your slick entrance on top of her mound, dragging it back and forth, teasing her.

“You want me to touch your pretty pussy with my mouth?” You ask, resting your hands on her abs. She was so built, just tracing the outline of her 6-pack made you quiver.

“God yes.”

Her voice is deeper, her pleasure taking over her vocal chords. You grind down on her before you shimmy down her legs and settle between her thighs. You lay on your tummy, lining up your face with her middle.

She’s dripping, her entrance waiting for your fingers and mouth. You loved returning the favor, especially for women. You got off on hearing a woman chant your name as you alternate between licking and sucking. It would always boost your ego, but now that it’s Abby in your bed? You’ll be satisfied if she’s the last one to ever get in bed with you.

She talked a big game about “teaching you a lesson” but here you are, shoving your fingers deep inside her and fucking her with your tongue. You smirk at the thought, watching her face twist in delight. You swirl your tongue around her sensitive throbbing clit. You were fed off her reactions, your eagerness to make her feel good increasing the more she cried out.

You wrap your lips around her clit as you’re three fingers deep, fucking her steadily. As soon as you start the suction on her pussy, Abby is falling apart on your face. It’s a quick reaction, which gives you a bit of an ego boost. You watch her stomach flex, her jaw clench, and her mouth let out a guttural moan.

Once she catches her breath, you slide off the bed, heading to your side table. You open the drawer, searching for the one thing that Abby could use to teach you a lesson.

You pull out the black strap on you found a couple months ago at an abandoned sex store downtown. You haven’t used it yet, but you did make the effort to clean it before you tucked it away. This seemed like the perfect time for it to shine.

You show Abby, her eyes lighting up with excitement. She snatches it from you, giggling as she stands up.

“It’s like putting underwear,” You explain as she messes with the strap. It was like a thong with a dick attached. Very advanced technology.

“It’s perfect,” She whispers, sliding it over her massively thick thighs. Once she gets it on, it’s kind of silly to look at. Seeing Abby with a massive cock made you chuckle, but instead of following your reaction, it’s like it gave her a newfound attitude.

It’s like a switch goes off. Instead of slowing down after an orgasm, like you, she manhandles you and grabs your biceps. She tows you up to her naked body before she pins you down to the bed. She plants herself like a tree between your legs, the large silicone dick nudging your inner thighs. You still can see her glistening core through the straps.

“I need to watch you come apart again,” She explains as she holds the cock in her hand, “Wanna watch you cum over and over again.”

Her hair is messily over her shoulders, so when she leans down to stare down at the dick sliding between your folds, it falls in her face. She tucks it behind her ears, but it still drifts down her chest. You circle your hips, sighing at the feeling of the ridges of the dildo against your sensitivity.

“Fuckin’ hair,” She fusses. You giggle a bit, watching her throw it back over her shoulders. You nudge her shoulder, using some force to pull her over your body. She leans down, her hair falling onto your face.

“I’ll hold it for you, just make me feel good,” You murmur, using both hands to gather her hair. She gasps as you tug on her locks. You use some of the leverage you have to position her even closer to you. She reaches between your bodies and coats the cock in your slick. As soon as she teases your entrance with it, you pull her hair back. It sends her over the edge as she eases the dick inside you. It hurts a bit, so when she draws back you tell her to coat it in her saliva. She does what she’s told, spitting into her free hand a couple times and covering the appendage with it.

Once she eases in again, the stretch feels better with the lubrication. Your thighs want to clench so bad, but the way she’s resting on you, you have no way to. She draws in and out of your pussy, grunting at the impact.

It feels so good, but part of you wishes you just had her beautifully long fingers inside you.

She moves your hands away from her hair and throws her head back, tossing her blond hair back. She props your legs up, plowing into you. You’re crying out, your ears ringing with the sound of your own heartbeat.

“God, I need you to cum, baby,” She mumbles, kissing your knee as your body starts to vibrate. The cock is hitting you in all the right spots, but you need more. You reach down, using the pads of your fingers to stimulate your clit.

“Please don’t stop!”

It riles her up more, her pace quickening with every gasp. She pushes your fingers away, replacing them with her own. The pressure she applies sends your body into overdrive. Between her moans and the physicality, your orgasm hits you like a train. She fucks you through it, mumbling phrases like “that’s my good girl” and “yes baby, give it to me”.

Once it’s over, it feels like your heart may beat out of your chest. She pulls the strap out and stands up beside your bed, shoving it off her hips. You watch her closely as she props the item up on your side table. She’s careful not to mess with any of you meticulously placed knick knacks.

“You good?” She asks, her voice cracking a bit.

She wanted to say more, but as she looks at you all fucked out on your bed, she feels a pang of guilt. She should not be indulging in this type of stuff, especially when you’re going against the cause. Abby had it made here, she can’t risk anything.

“‘m all good, Abs. Do you wanna stay?”

She shakes her head negatively.

“I think I’m gonna head back to my room. We gotta be up in a couple hours.”

You notice she’s being cold, which sends you into a spiral. You want to reassure her, but you know deep down she’s already made up her mind.

You clear your throat, “Well, we can at least wake up together.”

“No, I don't think that’s the best idea,” She explains as she finds her clothes across your bedroom. She lays them on the bed beside you as she starts to dress herself. She has this look of concern on her face. It makes you physically ill, knowing it’s the face of regret.

“Well, I guess we are back to square one.”

She throws her shirt over her head before she’s gathering up her things and practically running to the door. You want to pick up the dildo and sling it at her head. You can’t believe this.

She reaches for the door before turning around to face you, “Guess so.”

PART 2 is HERE

#abby anderson #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby tlou #abby from tlou #abby tlou smut #tlou x reader #abby anderson tlou2 #the last of us #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson x you #abby the last of us #abby x reader #the last of us 2 #gracieheartspedro

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heartlyrins · 1 month

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Sooo I saw that you write for lnd 👉🏼👈🏼

Can I pretty please ask for big brother Zayne? I don't mind either being incest or stepcest you can pick

A fic would be lovely but just general headcanons of what you think big brother Zayne would be to reader would be fine too!! 🥺

- 🫧

PLAYING NURSE FOR BIG BROTHER !

˚₊‧desc— Zayne always needs a nurse at home, fortunately his little sister is there!

˚₊‧tw— dark content, incest, incest, incest, INCEST, smut, blowjob, riding, bimbo!reader, big brother!Zayne, reader is of age but very sheltered

˚₊‧a/n— My first named Anon and my first lnd ask!! Sorry I can't write a long full fic rn, I'm too busy :(

Growing up, you've always been under the care of your big brother. Once your parents died, you truly had nobody but him.

And it's not like you mind, you love your big brother! You wouldn't have wanted it any other way. Just the thought of your big brother being forced to work makes you sad the whole day.

Everytime he comes home, he says that you have to play nurse for him! That includes giving him medicine, bathing him, and giving him little kisses all over his face!

But there were times where he told you to do some.. extra tasks as a nurse. Why, of course it includes sucking his cock like a good girl.

Overtime, you realize all these 'extra tasks' seems to includes his cock one way or another. He says that it's normal for nurses to do that.

Sometimes nurses help their patient, or even their doctors! And you can't help but wonder, does all nurses do this?

"Welcome home, big brother!" you exclaim once he arrives at the front door, you help him take off his jacket and realizes he looks really tense.

You helped him to the couch, he must've been stressed at work since he isn't responding to anything you say at all!

You make a little pout before he sighs and ruffles your hair before unzipping his pants, letting his cock fly out and slaps against his stomach.

You drooled at the sight of his cock. It must've been another one of your nurse duties time! You have to help your doctor distress!

You touch the tip of his cock, testing it and seeing as he let's out a hiss at the contact of your hand. You grinned as you spit on your hand, he told you that your saliva is another medicine for his cock!

As you touch the sensitive flesh, he let's out little moans and groans when he feels your warm hands.

"D—don't. Don't tease me." He warns and takes your hands off his cock before putting the tip of it on your mouth.

"Come on, open. Don't bite unless you want to be spanked like last time." The threat hangs over your head as the memories flood in, making you widen your mouth for it to fit.

His cock is gorgeous—the tip is a pale red and it's enormous. You want to suck his cock all day long, so tasty when it slips in your mouth slowly.

You've already rid of your gag reflex long ago just so his cock can fit warmly inside your mouth. He groans and he rests his rough hand on your head, controlling your movement slowly.

He gets breathless after a few moments and pulls your warm cavern away from his dick, he pats his lap for you to climb on which you do so—excitedly.

"Ride it." The moment he says it, you lift your skirt up and pulls your panties to your ankles before positioning yourself over his cock and inserting it in.

"Feels 'sho good, big brother~" you moan out and peppers a kiss all over his face. He just lets you ride him without taking control over you, he was too stressed today.

You chase after your climax all in your own but got a bit too tired of bouncing on his lap, that's when he takes control of your movements when he notices how tired you seem.

He makes you jump on his cock, which makes you roll your eyes to the back of your skull.

"W-wah! Wait..! I'm cumming, cumming~" you moan out and bite your lip when his placid dick gets hard once again inside your cunt.

You seemed so tired after only a round of cumming and you remember that your big brother has too much stamina.

Especially when he's pent up.

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randomshyperson · 5 months

Text

Teddy Pickers - Heart Shaped Series

Chapter Summary: In the rare quiet time in the lives of fugitives, you and Wanda play a game of questions. It's like that old saying: There's always a peaceful period before the storm. Or could it be that this time, the storm has already passed?

Warnings: (+18), soft and almost entirely a smut chapter, making out, dirty talking but they are actually just playful and dorky with each other, more shapeshifting stuff, hints of PTSD and trauma talk, some self-doubt from both, mainly fluff and hurt/comfort | Words: 4.845k

A/N-> So I had two chapters ready but I hated them. I had to rewrite the whole thing because I was unsure where to take this story. I'm all on my supercorp era again and I was taking this to a very angsty line and I don't want that. So I changed and gave them peace and quiet instead. Also, I can't wait to write jealous hormonal mess Wanda in the next chapters! A good reading for you all!

General Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 | Series Masterlist

-&-

You woke up to her nightmares.

Still groggy from sleep, you rubbed your eyes and forced your body to react to the figure murmuring softly beside you, her face contorted in discomfort. At some point during the night, Wanda let go of you, snatched almost the entire comforter, and then began to dream.

And apparently, it wasn't a good one. It surprised you a little that you were affected by it, but you made a mental note of Wanda's impressive ability to emit a magical aura even in her sleep. That might explain why her room was set apart from the others in the tower.

Your touch was gentle on her face, and you called her softly until you woke her up. Wanda jumped a little, opening red, frightened irises until she realized she was just having a bad dream. She barely recognized your presence, and already pressed her face into your collarbone, breathing deeply against your skin.

"Are you all right, my love?" You asked after a moment, stroking her hair as her breathing returned to normal.

Wanda sniffled, and your heart broke. Your reaction was to look for her eyes, to reassure her, but she wrapped her arms tightly around you and wouldn't let you move away.

You sighed before adding: "It was just a bad dream, my little witch."

But Wanda sniffles again, this time pressing her face into your chest so that she can speak.

"It wasn't just a dream." She mumbles upset. "I was remembering... Pietro."

A lump forms in your throat. You swallow. "Oh, Wanda... I'm so sorry."

"It's all right." She hits back immediately, without moving a muscle. She continues to hold you as if she feels you'll disappear if she lets go. "It's been a while since I thought about that day. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"You certainly shouldn't worry about how I'm going to feel about this." You retort firmly. "He's your brother. You can cry all you want. I'll be here to hold you."

The words make her shift immediately and press her face against your body where you can feel new tears wetting your pajamas. But Wanda doesn't cry for long - she falls asleep again, her limbs locked tightly around you, and even though the position gets a little uncomfortable after a while, you don't have the heart to push her away. Especially since, after a while, her nightmares return and the magical aura is strong enough for the memories of the past to shine through your eyes.

You sigh, adjusting yourself to kiss the top of her head and settling her so that she's completely asleep on your body - which changes a little, growing just enough for Wanda to have all the soft hold she needs. She smiles unconsciously, tightening her embrace before falling back into a deep sleep. With the softness of her expression, you are reassured to know that the nightmares are gone, at least for the moment.

You try to fall asleep, but your ear picks up the soft vibration of your work cell phone in your jacket pocket hanging from the chair in the bedroom. Your body tenses during every ring, until it finally relaxes when the device goes silent.

Work is calling, you know. Just as you know you can't run away forever.

Hours later when you wake again, it’s for rays of sunshine slipping the curtains and chaste kisses on your collarbone. You smile immediately.

"Morning, little witch." Your sleepy voice makes Wanda raise her eyes to you, her lips never leaving your skin. The soft scratch of her nails on your stomach makes your muscles twitch. "You're up to mischief, I see."

Your teasing makes her chuckle hoarsely, her hands climbing further up your pajama top and exposing your torso almost completely.

But instead of starting another trail of kisses, she sat up straight against your hip and waited for you to open your eyes.

"You change in your sleep." She declares as you stare at her, still awake. "Did you know that?"

You nod, and Wanda raises a curious eyebrow. She has a joke on the tip of her tongue about how the hell you knew something if you were asleep when you explain;

"I used to be monitored twenty-four hours a day when I was a child. To prevent any minor detail from slipping through the records and interfering with the research."

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, absorbing your confession for a second. She could count on her fingers the few times you had mentioned some random detail about your life before, and it took her by surprise. Almost everything she knew came from the Avengers' archives and carried technical and military analysis. She heard very little from your mouth.

"You never talk about your past." That's what she manages to answer because it's a fact.

You offer her a small smile, your hands moving to reach her thighs on either side of your hips.

"What would you like to know?"

Wanda sighs, her hands resting on your shoulders. "I'll listen to anything you want to tell me."

Your smile is tender, almost shy. Wanda likes it when she makes you blush, especially since you have the ability to conceal these reactions from her, changing and commanding your body according to your wishes. Even though you don't do it so often because you trust her.

What a thing. One of the world's greatest criminals blindly trusting an Avenger. She could actually feel very cocky about it.

"I have an idea." You then declare, your fingers playing with the edges of her shorts. Wanda stares at you expectantly, but you almost lose your train of thought at how deliciously beautiful she now looks. The slightly tousled hair, and well, the legs around you, and eyes that beg for everything but conversation. "Let's play a game."

"What kind of game?"

"A game of questions, of course." You retort good-humoredly, adjusting yourself a little to sit up straight. Wanda lets her hands fall to your lap. "Two truths and a lie. Traumatic childhood edition."

Wanda lets out a giggle, pinching you gently for the derogatory joke. You just smile at her, almost completely distracted by the sound of her laughter and the comforting feeling that moment brings to your chest.

"I've never played that one." She says after a moment. "What are the rules?"

"It's very simple. Each person states three facts, but one of them is false. You have to find out which one. The winner is whoever gets it right the most times, although I've just realized that playing something like that with a telepath isn't very fair." Wanda slaps you in a joking manner at the insinuation that she was going to cheat, getting a chuckle from you.

"I'll start then." She then states, assuming a thoughtful expression for a moment. You bite the inside of your cheek, resisting the urge to kiss her cute face and pay attention to the game. "With respect to the theme you've chosen, I grew up in a two-room apartment in the Sokovian countryside. When I was little, I could play the piano. And... I love to cook."

You hum thoughtfully, loosening your grip so that one of your hands goes to your chin. The whole theatrical expression makes Wanda giggle, her cheeks flushing with the way her stomach feels full of butterflies.

"I say the first one's a lie."

She raises an eyebrow. "Really? Why?"

Your expression changes to one of almost conviction. "Because you grew up in Novi Grad, the Sokovian capital, and not in the countryside. And I have to say, it's very bold of you to assume that I haven't done my homework on you, Wanda Maximoff."

Wanda feels a wave of warmth hit her body and spread with your words. Or perhaps, the way your eyes shine in a way that hides meaning. She allows herself to imagine for a moment your figure in the same clothes you wore when she first met you, frantically going through files at night to learn everything you could learn about her.

It reminds her a little of herself, days after your first encounter, how even though Wanda tried to be as secretive as possible, casually asking about missions in which you faced the Avengers, or reviewing mission files on the pretext that she was studying, Natasha realized what she was doing right away.

Clearing her throat, Wanda looked down, a little embarrassed. "I did the same. With-for you, I mean."

You smiled, looking at her with an almost impressed expression. "Oh, really? I'm flattered."

"Shut up." She giggles shyly in response, but you, despite chuckling too, insist more firmly;

"No, really. I think it’s quite romantic."

Wanda frowns slightly. "What, being obsessed with each other?"

"Yes."

"You have problems." She retorts in a false seriousness that makes you smile before Wanda swallows dryly at the way your gaze is focused intensely in her direction. The tension that rises is almost too much for her to be able to say anything else. Yet, she tries with a husky voice. "You got it right. The game, I say."

You nod, smiling. Your open palms on her thighs go up inside her shorts, and Wanda holds her breath for a second. But they only serve to make a gentle lever and pull Wanda closer by her ass, and she bites her lips at the new position, very aware of the warmth on her cheeks and neck.

"My three facts are as follows, Maximoff." You begin, your dark gaze on her previously bitten lips for a moment before focusing on her eyes again. "I was a laboratory experiment all through my childhood. I really like you." Wanda smiles, scrunching her nose adorably. You get momentarily distracted, gaze falling to her lips again. She catches your eyes, a smirk cracking on her mouth when she leans in, subtly asking you to break the distance. End the game. When you manage to talk again, your voice is barely a whisper; “I’m allergic to peanuts.”

She chuckles, arms interlocking behind your head. Wanda mutters a joke, something about keeping an eye for the food, but you firm your hands on her thighs and bring her closer to press your mouths together. It’s a hot kiss - charged with all of your naughty intentions. She lets out a soft moan when your tongue slides on hers, slow and sensual. But suddenly, Wanda breaks the kiss with flushed cheeks and a curious gaze on her eyes.

“Wait!” She asks breathlessly, to which you stare equally affected but expectant. “Your file did have peanuts listed as allergy.”

Damn, you thought you could win that one. A little grin starts to form on your lips, but Wanda narrows her eyes in your direction.

“Someone really did her homework on me, I see.” You tease, leaning in to go back to kissing her, but she evades your attempt, eyes shining a little dangerously.

“If the food was not the lie, and I know for a fact that you were an experience most of your life… Then the lie-” You wanted to laugh at the hidden panic hidden behind her eyes. Honestly, this woman.

What was she even thinking? That you would let her down in some game while having her on your lap? Hours after telling her that you love her?

It should be a hint enough that you’re smiling, for Wanda to realize there’s a joke there. But somehow, she grows more insecure. Her eyes flash red for a moment before and it’s a clear warning.

You just chuckle. “It’s all about semantics, darling.” You explain because it looks like Wanda might cut your head off if you don’t clarify exactly what lie you told. “I don’t just like you. We’re not in middle school. I love you, remember?”

The tension visually leaves her shoulders, but something else happens. Her cheeks and ears grow hotter and Wanda is once more a flustered mess, feeling pretty much like a shy middle schooler because you’re talking about feelings.

You think she’s beautiful, so you tell her that too. “God, you’re beautiful.”

She giggles coyly, kissing you because that’s all she can do without making a fool of herself. Well, if you keep rubbing her thighs under her shorts like that, she’ll probably make a fool of herself anyway, considering how she gets patheticly overwhelmed whenever you touch her.

For a while, you just made out. Slowly and passionately with wandering hands and panting kisses. It’s just nice to feel each other, to hold each other. It’s also very hot to feel Wanda rubbing herself on your lap until the soft friction is not enough.

She bites your lip when that happens, her hips more impatient and frantic against your thigh. All you can do in return is firm your hands on her waist, helping her get what she wants, what she needs. And Wanda stops kissing you because all she can do is moan in return for the time being, quite aware of the wetness dripping down her shorts.

She starts whining into your mouth when she’s close, and it’s too much for you - How can Wanda expects you not to fuck her properly when she’s doing that? - Your hands flip her over in a heartbeat. She barely has time to protest for the interruption of her previous, and desperate motions, when you’re all over her. Groping your way into her clothes, tearing it apart, and taking more eager sounds from her throat.

And Wanda, she’s such a tease. Dark dilated eyes shining with mischief and begging you to just fuck her. The way she lets you strip her out of her clothes, and how she slightly opens her legs, rubbing her ankles behind your kees, inviting you to just-

“Fuck.” You pant for the image in front of you. Wanda bites her lips, one of her hands finding its way to her soft breasts, fingers teasing the hard nipple like she doesn’t mind the slightest that you could lose your sanity to such a sinful gesture.

But Wanda is getting impatient too. The hot knot on her belly is making her dizzy. You’re making her dizzy.

“Need you so bad, detka.” She meowed, her hips arching into the air, allowing you a clear view of her drenched pussy. You can see how wet she is, smell it, yet, a true confirmation only comes when you use one of your hands to press her back into the bed while your free fingers find her warm entrance. Wanda cries out when you enter her, but she’s so hot and so tight, that you have to pull out before pushing two fingers in again and again, stretching her out while she struggles to breathe. Her thigh muscles twitch when your thumb finds her clit, every drawn circle against the hardened bud rips a new throaty moan out of her.

When she’s close again, impossibly tightly against your fingertips, throbbing, you hum pleasantly, your free hand gripping her waist to take control of her uncoordinated movements. Wanda cries out when you force her into your fingers, reaching deeper now and too good for her to hold back, so the hot knot on her belly explodes without warning and she arches her back, twitching and choking on a moan before going limb on the mattress. You keep fingering her gently, prolonging her orgasm until she complains about the overstimulation with a tug on your wrist.

You pull your fingers out but not kiss her as she would wish - Instead, you lean down and her dizzy expression falters into a gasp when your mouth finds her cunt, tongue licking every drop of cum you just manage to get. Her natural reaction is to back away, she’s sensitive. But you grab her thighs, find your place between her legs, and start to eat her out like you’re starving.

“Oh God…fuck-” Her choked moaning mixing in English and Sokovian is music to your ears. Her eyes close on instic, because it’s too much and somehow not enough - Your tongue is teasing her, playing with her clit but not using the necessary pressure she needs. She just came and you barely started and Wanda is ready for more, painting for more. One of her hands finds your hair, a strong grip that works like a warning. Yet, she says or at least tries to, since it sounds a lot more like a whine than anything else: “Stop teasing.”

To be fair, she could probably ask you anything at any time, especially now. While dripping so sweetly into your tongue, clenching and begging for more. You hum accordingly, ending your tease when sucking on her clit. Wanda screams. Loud enough for other people to hear, that’s for sure, but none of you cares about that. Not now, probably not never.

She can’t hold longer after that, not when you’re doing everything to get another climax out of her, fingers finding her pussy again to help your tongue. It’s so messy and sloppy and nearly desperate. Your own underwear has been bothering you for a while now and Wanda crying out your name is definitely not helping with that.

It’s not a surprise that when she comes, the room shudders a little. Wanda’s not being careful, she’s too gone for that now. Little were the times when she didn’t, couldn’t, hold back herself, her magic. The energy flows to her veins like the heat spreading under her skin when she orgasms and it’s breathtaking and overwhelming and she’s coming so hard that she can’t hold anything back. A wave of warm magic explodes around, her red irises open like her mouth in a silent scream, and it’s beautiful. Wanda is perfect, and she’s all yours.

She only realizes she ripped the sheets when you move back to her and the bed makes a noise that forces her to notice the room. Such a mess she made. Someone will have to pay for bedroom fixing.

“Enjoying yourself, aren’t you witchy?” You tease fondly about the whole setting, the new crack on the window, the little sparks of her magic that still flow around. Wanda sighs satisfied, her hands finding your face when you’re close enough. When she kisses you, her taste is there and she can only moan at the dirty of that act, how you suck her tongue like you’ve sucked her clit a few minutes ago.

Wanda doesn’t break the kiss to move her hands lower, groping your still-dressed figure and only now realizing how that is actually torturous.

“Hmm, I’ve been so selfish, milyy (darling). You must be needing me as well.” She mutters between one kiss and another, and you’re almost so distracted by her new dominance over you that you barely notice her hands. Barely. You follow her lead, resting your back on the bed so Wanda can hover over your body. Her fingers move under your shirt, scratching the skin and giving her a nice time feeling you twitch. The way she looks at you is also a lot to handle without shaking.

Suddenly, Wanda pants, eyes diverting to your chest. “Oh, hello you two”. She doesn’t mind your shyness, shamelessly groping your boobs under your shirt. “I missed those.”

You chuckle out of breath, pulling your shirt off while Wanda just stares and plays with them. “I can’t believe you just talked to my boobs.”

She squeezes, pulling the tip until it’s hard under her touch. You bite your lips, to keep your sound under control but you can feel a new wave of warm wetness spreading towards your lower belly.

“Well, I’ve missed them. It’s been a while, since, you know, you actually had those two.” She so casually talking about it, it’s not that you mind that, but she’s also touching and squeezing them and you’re way too horny to have a conversation.

With very warm cheeks, you try to anyway; “Hm, they usually stay in the way of the job.” Wanda leans down, forcing her head between your breasts, muttering something like so soft and she’s such a dork that you have to chuckle. “It’s just extra work to find the right clothes and then changing every time I need a new face and matching body.”

Despite her clearly interest in your chest, Wanda is listening as she lets you know with a hum of knowledge. But then her mouth envelops one of them and it’s just too much for you to focus on anything else but the feeling of her tongue. You pant to the ceiling, shaky fingers gripping her hair, telling her to keep going but Wanda is such a teasing brat. There’s a small ‘pop’ sound when her mouth lets go, and a trace of saliva still connects your nipple to her lips before Wanda goes for the other one. You squirm a little under her, blushing intensely because she’s such a tease and apparently wants you to beg for it.

She takes no pity on the ache between your legs; When her mouth leaves your breast again, she has this mischievous sparkle in her eyes that makes you gulp.

“I think I’m a little obsessed with them.” She tells you, giving your tits another squeeze, a little harder this time.

You gasp. “You think?”

“Huh-huh.” She replies, nodding. “You had it on your first night together. Then never again until today. It’s because you miss me sucking them, malysh (baby)?”

You roll your eyes at the words, teasing words evidently. The little cocky smirk that almost makes you go back to being the one in charge. To be completely honest, Wanda was always the one in charge. Even when she allows you to be on top.

“You’re mistaken, Maximoff.” You retort her while giving her a gentle tug on her thighs, to bring her closer because you really need some kind of pressure between your legs. Wanda doesn’t have to be a mind reader to get the hint - Her knee finds your middle as she straddles your thigh, and she doesn't mind hiding her grin at how you let out an affected sigh at that. “I also had them when I first met you.”

She frowns a little, scrunching her nose in a thoughtful way. You are about to clarify when her knee moves away for her hand to take the spot. And well, you can’t think of saying anything, coherent at least, with Wanda finger’s filling you up so nicely. She seems to be enjoying herself as well - Watching attentively at every strangled noise that escapes you with the consistent pace inside you.

But suddenly as if remembering your previous words, she gaps: “Oh my god, you’re right!” She says, somehow her excitement brings her deeper inside of you. All you can give her as a response is a whine. “You were pretending to be one of the gala’s hosts right? The.. damn, i can’t remember his name-”

“W-wanda..” You meowls, the heat is too much. The way she just keeps pumping in and out of you, and talking about something else as if turning you into a whining mess is nothing, actually makes you throb.

Wanda just smiles, ignoring your protest to the conversation and quite satisfied with the growing wetness she can feel on her fingertips. “Oh, I remember it now. The host only had daughters, so you did your part. Also one of the few times I saw you in a dress, baby. And what a view that was.” She leans in, whispering soft praises into your ear while you struggle to breathe. It takes you over the edge quickly, and Wanda is rewarded with the sweetest whimper once the knot in your belly explodes - One of your hands grabs her wrist, to keep her there as if she ever thought of leaving. Your hips jerk a few times as you ride the last waves of your climax and Wanda watches all of it, as breathless as you, truly mesmerized by the scene.

When you can breathe again, there are green irises staring at you with adoration. “Hi.”

“Hi you.” It’s your tender reply, and when Wanda leans in to kiss your lips, she can feel your smile. One of your hands moves to her face, gently caressing her skin. Once the kiss is broken, you talk first. “I love you, Wanda.”

You sound so vulnerable, so true, that she swallows. Her gaze focused on your eyes. It’s almost like there’s more to add, at the same time, as if the confession meant even more than just caring about someone. Wanda remembers the first time you said, how you mentioned that she was the first person you ever said that to, and somehow she understands it that it meant that you trusted her very deeply. She bites her lips, withdrawing her fingers from you. She doesn’t miss the soft sigh that escapes you, but she says nothing to that. Wanda is busy taking your wetness to her mouth and sucking her fingers clean. The image is enough to bring not only a strong color to your cheeks but a dark shine to your eyes.

You are ready to break the distance again when knocks on the door break the bubble you two are in completely.

And Captain Rogers's voice from the outside of the room kind of breaks the mood entirely.

“Hello? I’m… sorry to interrupt. I just need a word. With everyone. Please, huh, join us downstairs?” You and Wanda hide your giggles - The Captain was obviously flustered to call you two, especially judging by the noises Wanda didn’t mind to restrain, probably everybody knew what you two were up to. And it was definitely Natasha’s idea that he was the one who called; the widow was having some fun with her friend's clumsiness.

Wanda cleared her throat, unwillingly taking her attention from you to the door. “We’ll be right out, Steve.”

Once the sound of his footsteps became more distant, Wanda kissed you again. She seemed determined not to move away from you.

-&-

Sergeant Barnes was in Wakanda, undergoing recovery.

When Steve mentioned the country, he looked directly at you, and that was enough for you to know that whatever the king had told him about your adventures there, the captain was on the monarch's side. Not that it mattered all that much.

Consciously or not, while Steve was updating the team, you discreetly scratched the scar you received the last time you were there. If you concentrated, you could remember exactly how painful it was to receive the Wakandian words for thief on your skin.

And seeing the heroes of Earth around you, with inside jokes and personal stories, made you feel very out of place. As if they too could see the scar, even if it was covered by an oversized sweatshirt now.

You swallowed dry and took advantage of the fact that Natasha was finally telling everyone what had kept her busy for the first few weeks on the run, to slip away towards a snack machine.

Wanda followed you with her eyes, aware of all your reactions to the conversations. She just wanted you to feel at ease with the others too, but she knew the opposite feeling well. She was once new to the presence of the Avengers, and they could be rather intimidating. Even the friendliest of them. Maybe it was a superhero thing.

You were deciding between the first and third row when Natasha caught Wanda's eye again. She wanted the witch to be paying attention to the conversation, it seemed important.

The widow took a deep breath. "I never told any of you this, because I thought it was in the past. But... I have a sister. Her name is Yelena Belova and-"

But the news and the shock had to be left for later. A bang from the other side of the common area interrupted Nat's story, and the whole team stood up.

You had just shoved a person hard enough to break the glass of the snack machine. But the attacker's exclamation of pain made you let go immediately.

The masked figure pushed you back harshly, but you laughed in amazement.

"You weren't supposed to make a scene, you idiot." Complained the woman, massaging her sore shoulder due to the impact. She barely had time to regain her balance and half the Avengers were in fighting position, one particular witch making her take a step back, hiding in your protection.

You acted quickly, gesturing to the heroes to stand down, before throwing one of your arms under the smaller one shoulder.

"Relax, everything's fine!" You declared happily. You tugged at the combat mask she was wearing, revealing the unknown woman's face, which caused her to elbow you, which you ignored. "Meet Layla El-Faouly, my business partner."

The curly-haired woman forced a smile and waved. Wanda was the last of the team to drop her attack position.

-&-

A/F/N-> If you haven't watched Moonknight, please do. Layla El-Faouly is simply incredible. I can't give away too many spoilers for those who haven't seen it, but she's also a thief and a really skilled one. It would be a waste to have an international thief reader who didn't know her.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fics #wanda maximoff smut #heart shaped series #marvel imagines

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sanguineterrain · 6 months

Text

savior | jason todd

Summary: Red Hood is the stuff of nightmares. Red Hood is no hero. Red Hood is your best friend.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings/tags: angsttt, reader is afraid of red hood and they discover that he's jason, injured and kidnapped reader, emotional hurt no comfort.

A/N: hey guys! i didn't know what the hell to write so. this is what i came up with. hope ya like it :) if you like this fic, lmk through comments and reblogs!

the divider

“You fucked up!”

You wince at the shouting and the ringing in your ears. You try to sit up but that makes things hurt, so you lie still and listen.

"What? You said pick a civilian!”

"I don't give a fuck what I said; obviously, you screwed up! He's not coming!"

You close your eyes, trying not to throw up on your gag.

Batman? Batman isn't coming?

No, that can't be. Batman knows everything that happens in his city. He wouldn't abandon a civilian in need.

You try to take a deep breath, but your chest tightens instead. Jason's probably tearing his hair out if he's home from work. He always stresses safety, to the point of paranoia.

Lock your doors. Don't walk down this street. Did you get home okay? Text me when you get home.

You hope Batman's out there, somewhere. Or any of the Bats. You don't want to die. You really, really don't want to die.

Thump!

Something hits the ground. There's a shout.

“You fucking shitheads! You were supposed to check the—”

Gunfire erupts suddenly, and you tuck your head between your knees as best as you can, with your hands and ankles bound.

Thump! Thump!

More bodies hit the ground. But Batman doesn't do guns.

"What the fuck is this?" comes a distorted voice.

Your blood chills.

"H-Hood!” one of the kidnappers squeaks. “Sh-shit. What’re you doin’ here?”

“Protecting Gotham,” Hood says. “What’re you doing, McKelly? Thought you were on the straight and narrow. Thought the Bats taught you what happens to people who lose their way. Did the lesson not stick?”

“It’s not what it looks like, Hood! We just needed some extra cash and Black Mask—I swear, we weren’t gonna do anything to—”

“Was it worth it? He’s got my attention now.”

“It was meant to draw out Batman! Not you, honest! Aw, Hood, please. I’ll be good after this, I swear!”

“You assholes just don’t learn your lesson, do you?”

He turns and locks in on you. You freeze, tensing up.

“You hurt them," he says, voice like steel. "You hurt them. And you would've hurt them more, wouldn't you?"

“Hood—”

"I’ll kill you all.”

He shoots McKelly in the chest. You scream through the gag. Red Hood looks at you, and it seems to rekindle his anger tenfold.

He shoots the two remaining guys in the head. McKelly writhes, screaming. You shut your eyes and turn away from the bloodshed, stomach rolling. The crunch of bone and muscle makes you sick.

"Hood, please! This ain’t your s—”

The next shot silences the room. Your heart rate skyrockets; is this a rescue or a massacre?

As the footsteps get closer, you press yourself into the wall and quiver. Red Hood is terrifying. He's merciless, bloodthirsty. You know the stories. You don't even know why he's here in the first place. This isn't his territory; you live far from Crime Alley. What is he doing all the way out here?

You peek one eye open. Red Hood freezes. He's about two feet away from you. His jacket and helmet are splattered with dark blood. Tears prick your eyes.

"Hey," he says roughly, like he’s not fully present. "’S okay. Y’alright?”

You nod rapidly. In reality, your ankle throbs, you might be concussed, and you’re sick with fear. And you don't want Red Hood anywhere near you.

"Okay. I'm gonna remove the gag."

You can't really protest; Red Hood's a big guy, and he has a lot of weapons on his body. All you can hope is that he won't decide to pick up where your kidnapper left off.

He removes the gag. Then he pulls out a blade.

"Please don't hurt me," you say.

Red Hood stills. His voice is thick when he speaks again. The modulator doesn't soften his words.

"I would—I would never hurt you. I don't hurt innocents. I... I came here to save you.”

It still doesn’t make sense in your mind, Red Hood being so far from the Bowery. You press your cracked lips together. You don't want to throw up. If you throw up in front of Hood, he might change his mind about saving you.

“Hey,” he says. “It’s alright. I’m gonna remove the zip ties now, okay?”

You don't have a choice, so you watch the blade whisper past your skin. It would be so easy for Hood to cut more than the restraints. It's all you can think about, frankly.

He makes quick work of the binds. His hand lingers on your wrist. There’s blood on his sleeve. Your heart pounds in your chest.

He finally lets go and you pull away, scooting to the side. That puts pressure on your ankle, though, and you can't hide your wince.

"Your ankle," he says. "Let me see.”

You shake your head. "No, I'm f-fine. I just want to go home. It'll heal.”

Hood seems to make a decision then. He reaches for his helmet. It clicks and he pulls it off.

No. No, it can’t be. It can’t.

“Hey,” Jason says, smiling a little. “‘S just me. Just Jay. You’re safe.”

Your eyes dart between Jason and the bodies. This time, you can’t swallow your nausea; you throw up. There’s tears in your eyes. Your face is hot and sweaty.

“You–you killed them,” you whisper.

Jason’s smile fades. “They hurt you. I… I saved you. It’s okay. ‘S just me.”

You clench your hands, willing them to stop shaking. He watches you for a long moment. Then he puts his hand out. You flinch.

Silence stretches. Then Hood—Jason speaks.

"You're scared of me.”

You shake your head. "Please, I just want to go home—”

"You want Batman instead?" He sounds choked. “You want Batman to come save you? Or Nightwing? Or Robin? You want a good guy?”

This feels like a trap. You know better than to fall into it. This is the Red Hood.

"No! No, I-I don't have any problem with you, Hood, really, I'm just—"

“It’s Jason!” he shouts. “You’ve known me for three years! Jason! You know me!”

The night is catching up to you; tears begin to spill from how overwhelmed you are. You wipe at your cheeks quickly, trying to calm down, but it's too much.

Jason creeps forward like he wants to touch you. You press against the wall without thinking about it.

“Fuck, you’re—you’re terrified of me,” he rasps. “You think I’m a monster.”

Your panic has reached a peak now; you lose track of time and space, hyperventilating through your cries. Jason shoves himself backwards, tearing a hand through his hair.

“I’m good, I’m a good guy. You know me, you know me. I would never hurt you!”

You could've died tonight. The Red Hood is Jason. The Red Hood is no hero.

You don’t look at him, curled up and cradling your ankle. You’re afraid you’ll get sick again if you open your eyes.

Then someone's hand holds your shoulder. You flinch hard, expecting cold, glowing eyes in a red helmet.

Instead, you see white lenses. Nightwing smiles sadly at you, squatting to your level.

"Hey, there," he says. “I’m—”

"Hood’s here," you blurt. "Watch your back."

Nightwing glances behind him; Jason is across the warehouse, as much distance between you as possible. He has his knees to his chest. The corpses lie between you. Your eyes widen and you turn into Nightwing’s shoulder. He rubs your back.

"It’s okay. I know him. He works with us a lot these days."

“I would never hurt you,” Jason says quietly, voice cracking. “Never.” He doesn’t try to approach you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut.

"Please don't make me go with him,” you whisper. “Please, please…”

It hurts to breathe. Nightwing puts your hand on his chest and tells you to follow his breathing. It lasts a lifetime, it seems: Nightwing crouched to your level, exaggerating his breaths until you're no longer gasping for air.

"Alright, it's alright. I'll take you home," he says. "It's okay. You're safe. I won’t make you go with him.”

Nightwing helps you stand, and when you stumble through your injured ankle, he catches you, bracing you with his arm around your back.

"Let's wrap your ankle first, okay?”

Nightwing guides you to a lone chair so he can tend to your injury. When you look up again, the Red Hood is gone.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x reader #red hood x you #jason todd angst #jason todd fanfiction #red hood fanfiction #dc fanfiction #batman fanfiction #angst

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thatfreshi · 9 months

Note

I was wondering if you could write Astarion having to tend to a very cuddly drunk female Tav. Possibly having to defend her from other people trying to take advantage of her.

This took me on a very sad adventure

TW - blood and gore, attempted sexual assault, drinking

Recommended Song: Drew Barrymore - SZA

The nice thing about no longer being on wild adventures full of tadpoles and cultists is that you and Astarion can go out drinking like normal people. While your vampiric lover thoroughly enjoys a good glass of wine, he usually stops himself at one. Perhaps he's a little paranoid about you, your safety, but he insists not to have more than one when the two of you are out together. At the house? Sure, he'll finish two bottles with you, the two of you drunkenly laughing by the fireplace, but not when danger could be afoot. You try to tell him he's just anxious, tense, that you'll be alright.

"I'd rather just make sure my love. You indulge all you want darling, I'll be fine."

In one of the more rowdy taverns, you and Astarion sit at a table off to the side, watching people get drunk and dance, bumping into strangers, sometimes fights ensue. As per usual, he nurses his singular glass. You look at him, a gleam of sadness in your eyes.

"Are you sure you don't mind? I can just skip out tonight, maybe we can just drink later, when we get back."

"Nonsense, have your fun my sweet. I insist."

You squeeze his hand.

"Alright then, I'm off to get my second... you can tell me to stop anytime!"

You tease as you slowly walk away, almost backing up into a nearby half-orc. He simply smiles at you, one of those smiles that says everything he's thinking, how he thinks you're precious, how he'd gladly never get drunk again if it meant keeping you. Years ago, he would've never given up a vice for some person. But you, you make this feeling well up in his chest, like he has to hold you close at all times, worried someone will snatch you when he's not looking. You may make fun of him for simply being a paranoid person, but you made it a million times worse.

"I'm back!"

Your voice draws out, and you return with two mugs of beer instead of just the one.

"Already going for three darling? You do remember you're a lightweight, right?"

"I'll be fine. Besides, Mr. Knight in Shining Armor is here to take me home if I throw up on someone."

You lie against his arm, starting on your second drink.

"You did eat before we left the house, right my sweet?"

You look up at him silently. He just sighs, running his hand through your hair.

"Then why did you need to go to the kitchen before we left?"

You giggle a little.

"To... pre-game!"

The laughter rings out of your throat as Astarion sighs, again, more annoyed this time.

"So you're telling me-"

"Already gettin' drunk Aster, it's a great time."

The more and more you talk, the more he realizes your words are becoming more slurred. Perhaps he should've asked before you left, made sure you at least grabbed a bite.

"Alright, you stay right here, I'm going to get you some water and a little snack."

He gets up, swiftly grabbing the two mugs off the table while you protest.

"Hey, I wasn't done with those!"

As Astarion makes his way to the bar, asking for the classic drunkard's care package, he's suddenly nervous. Had you ever been this drunk in public before? Maybe the two of you should just go home, before you somehow get your hands on any more alcohol. After thanking the barkeep for the water and some bread, he comes back through the crowd, and sure enough you have left the table.

"Gods damn it Tav."

After setting down what was supposed to be your little pick-me-up, Astarion quickly moves through the groups of people, knowing you probably just got up to dance. The bard playing tonight was quite excellent after all. However, after looking through most of the common space, you're nowhere to be found. That feeling of panic starts to well up inside of him, where he's only driven by fear. He knows you can't be far, but he also knows most of the tavern-goers here are slimy, horrific people looking for their next bag of gold. Walking through the crowd again, Astarion comes near the back entrance, and hears a conversation down one of the abandoned hallways.

"A gal like you, surprised you're here alone."

He rounds the corner, seeing you and a bulky half-elf, your arms pinned above your head. You seem nervous, but not conscious enough to realize anything is truly wrong. Astarion stalks up behind the wretched man, wrapping his dagger around the half-elf's throat.

"No so alone anymore, are we?"

Your captor surprisingly doesn't stand down.

"You won't do shit. People know me around here, important people, they'd surely have your head if something happened to me."

"Not if I hide your body well enough. And trust me, I have experience."

The two of them are un-moving for a moment as your wrists start to go numb from the pressure. You groan in pain, only causing the half-elf to grab you tighter. As Astarion goes to press his blade into the man's neck, he whips around, pushing Astarion back. Gods, he's tall. You fall back against the wall, trying to nurse the pain in your hands. As Astarion and the stranger fight, you hear the sounds of blades colliding, but your head is spinning. Perhaps he was right about the whole 'eat before you drink' thing.

You're interrupted from your thoughts when you hear a loud thump on the floor. The half-elf almost knocked Astarion out. leaving him on the ground. The stranger then turns back to you, lifting you back up from the floor, going to open the back door.

"What a find. Can't wait to enjoy you."

In that moment, while trying to get his bearings, Astarion realizes this wasn't just someone threatening you, and that disgusting feeling fills his stomach. He remembers how many times he shared his body against his will, and the adrenaline of that anger is enough to get him back on his feet. As you and the half-elf make it out the door, Astarion rushes him, tripping one foot out from under him. And then he drives his blade into the stranger's back, again, and again, and again, and again, and again. He's covered in the sinner's blood, shaking with both rage and misery. The violent display helped sober you up just a little, enough to make you realize that Astarion has killed someone behind the bar, and that it was clearly deserved. He looks up, locking eyes with you, still holding his blade down, as if the dead man needs yet another plunging strike in his back.

"Astarion?"

You ask, your voice full of uncertainty, the past few minutes still a blur. He begins to cry, putting his dagger in the ground, slowly crawling over to where you've ended up on the ground. He holds you tight, almost to the point of pain. He doesn't say anything, and you simply watch the blood pour out of the man's corpse as he grips you tight. Flooding memories cover every space of his mind, seduction, imprisonment, and most of all, Cazador's death.

"Astarion... you're hurting my arm."

You say softly, not fully aware of just how distraught he is, still far too inebriated. You're sad though, because he's sad, and you can't quite put together why. He lets go, wrapping his arms under his legs, crying into his knees. You try to comfort him, despite your state.

"It's okay, it's over now."

You don't even know what's over, but if someone is dead and Astarion is still alive, he must've ended it.

"I know."

He chokes out those two pathetic words, looking back up at you.

"We need to leave."

The survival instinct kicks in, knowing he can't explain why this man has at least five stab wounds in his back. The second one of the bartenders finds this, it'll be over.

"Come, this way, we're going to take the back alley."

Snatching up your arm, Astarion leads you through the darkness, mumbling things to himself that you can't quite hear. The two of you move quickly through the night as you stumble around behind him. When the two of you get home, he gets you some water, leading you upstairs so you can lie down.

"Are you okay?"

Such an innocent question. He knows you'll remember tomorrow, that it's not like you're blacked out or anything, just confused.

"I'll be fine my dove. Get some rest now, it's alright."

It's as if he's trying to convince himself, but it's enough for you in your drunken stupor. You curl up into the heavy blanket cast across the bed, and he leaves a kiss on your head. Not long after, you're drifting off to sleep, exhausted.

As Astarion makes his way to the bathroom, he thinks of the horrific things that could've happened, of how cruel humanity is. He thinks about how you have to be the only truly good person in all of Faerûn. He'll never get all the blood off his face, not while you're asleep. His mirror, his sun, his everything, and you were almost tainted the very same way he was.

When you wake up the next morning, Astarion isn't in bed. You try to reach out groggily, looking for that embrace, only to be left with cold sheets. Thinking back on the night before, the memories start to filter in. The drinks, the half-elf, the stabbing, and Astarion sobbing. The full picture isn't entirely there, but there's enough pieces for you to realize. That man, he found you drunk in the tavern, and tried to take advantage of you.

You stumble out of bed, walking down the stairs, rubbing your eyes.

Astarion is in the kitchen, drinking some tea, his eyes bloodshot. You don't say anything, slowly walking up to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, holding him tight. He puts his tea down and rests his head on yours.

"Are you alright my love?"

"I'm fine. Are you alright?"

You make some space again, looking up at him, holding his hands in yours. They start to shake again, rage and misery. You move a piece of hair out of his face.

"He didn't do anything to me love, I'm okay."

"Just- the thought of- I-"

He tries to hold back the tears again.

"It's okay, you can cry. It's going to be okay."

With that allowance, the permission to let go, he cries again.

"I don't ever want you to feel like that Tav, the way I felt. It's so, disgusting."

"I know, but it's over Aster. It's over now. You're okay, we're okay."

You wrap around him again, and he continues to weep.

"I love you, so much, and they didn't ruin you, I promise."

That worry, that he'll never be the same, that he's forever fractured now, that a piece of him is gone. Innocence, what a loaded word. Those who are guilty make the innocent feel guilty, and those who are guilty feel powerful, and the cycle continues, always continuing. You stand in the kitchen for a long time, letting him get all of the pain out, your shirt sleeve wet with his tears.

"I just wish I didn't have to be scared anymore."

You frown, thinking on his statement, knowing that no one is ever truly safe. You'll both live in fear forever, of those that think cruelty is accomplishment.

"I know."

It's all you can say, because you can't lie and tell him there's a day he won't have to be scared, that one day all the monsters of the world will be gone. There's nothing to learn, no moral, no mistake to fix, just pain. Pain caused by those who greed after anguish.

"Do you think I've changed? Or am I just as I was, a scared, beaten slave?"

"Gods Astarion, of course you've changed. It's the world that hasn't. We're better than them though, even if that's all we have."

Neither of you reach any resolution, nothing that makes you feel better. Instead, you sit on the sofa by the fire, watching the wood go up in flames, softly speaking about the suffering. You lie in each other's arms, sad. Misery loves company, and the two of you sit in that aura of grieving for a long time, grieving his past, grieving what could have been a kinder world. But here, in this sacred space, where feelings are free to run wild, where you can cry as much as you need, that's the only place you're truly safe. And that's alright, as long as it's together.

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #baldurs gate astarion #astarion #comfort #angst #baldur's gate 3

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orchidsangel · 7 months

Text

"NORMAL" FOR YOU (JASON TODD)

notes/cw ~ GN!reader, fluff, minorish angst (idk to me it's minor), has been renamed, (also this is only my second time ever writing in second person, i'm still learning so plz cut me some slack)

It’s 4:36 in the morning when the soft thud of boots landing on the fire escape outside your apartment interrupts the sleep you were finally starting to slip into; and it’s 4:37 when the window in your bedroom is pried open by large gloved hands, followed by the maneuvering of a large figure through said window.

Even with increased agility from years of training, he still manages to knock over a couple of the trinkets occupying your windowsill; and even though you can feel how tired he is from feet away, he still picks each item up off the floor, examining the objects for cracks or breaks before placing them back in their rightful spots.

“I don’t know why you keep coming through that window.” Drowsiness drips from your voice, but you know it’s nothing compared to what he’s feeling. “I cleared off the one in the living room to avoid this exact situation.”

“Coming in this way is just better.”

“Yeah, maybe for you, but not for my stuff.”

A breathy laugh escapes his lips, and he walks over to your side of the bed, placing his knee on the edge and his hands beside your head. His palms dig into the plush cotton of the pillows and blankets around you, and he hovers for a second, before dipping down and placing a soft kiss on your lips.

“I like when you’re the first thing I see after patrol.”

You look up at him to see the sleazy smile you know is on his face, but all you can focus on is the exhaustion evident in his features. Bags under his eyes and deep-set lines that would disappear with a couple of nights of good sleep riddle his face, and your mouth turns downward in a frown as you think about how badly he needs a night off.

He notices the way you react to the effects of his nightly activities and immediately gauges what's on your mind. “I can't,” he says, pulling back from you, standing up and turning around, starting the process of removing his tactical gear.

You suck in a tense breath, the sudden change in atmosphere giving you whiplash.

You watch his back as he removes the multiple layers of protective clothing that keep him coming home to you.

“Can’t what?” It’s a dumb question that you both know the answer to and have always known the answer to.

It’s a dumb question that you both know the answer to, but you ask anyway even though the answer remains the same and has remained the same since you found out about his ‘occupation.'

He lets out a sigh, moving towards the dresser and opening a drawer to find some pajamas.

“I can’t take a night off.” He lets his head drop, hands gripping the knobs, “and I can’t give you the life that you want…the normal life that you deserve.” The words come out strained, like they’re paining him, and they’re definitely paining you.

You refrain from saying anything, knowing that when he gets like this it’s better to give him some time to let his rationale come back instead of trying to sway his thoughts.

A beat of silence goes by, and he pulls out some clean clothes then disappears into the bathroom across the hallway, not before gently closing the bedroom door behind him, ever the considerate boyfriend, even in his self-loathing moments.

The back of your head hits the pillow behind you, and you exhale lightly. Eyes drooping and body feeling heavy, you pull the blanket up to your neck and try to let sleep takeover.

A few minutes pass before the soft sound of hinges squeaking interrupts the silence around you, and Jason shuffles around the room, quietly locking the window and putting stuff away.

The bed dips and he climbs under the covers, sliding one arm under your head and the other over your hip. Even in a sleepy, semi-agitated state you readily accept his warmth as a safety net.

“I wouldn’t be with you if I didn’t want to be.”

You feel him sigh against the back of your head, pulling you as close to him as possible, “I know.”

“Do you really?” You say slowly, fighting sleep. “Because it often feels like you don’t.”

No response.

“I don’t know what you think ‘normal’ is Jason, but if it doesn’t include you then I don’t want it.”

“I’m sorry," He whispers tentatively.

And your heart aches knowing the amount of love you give him may never be enough to heal the deep wounds leftover from years of being made to feel like a burden.

“You don’t have to apologize, but you do need to stop questioning my decision-making skills.” Your body shifts in his arms so you’re face to face with him, “I could do a whole lot worse than you.”

He lets out a wry chuckle that hides some sadness in it, “yeah…you’re right.”

You hum, satisfied with his lack of protest, and open your eyes long enough to see a content look on his face, before closing them once more.

For a few minutes you lay in silence wrapped in his arms, reveling in the comfort of each other's company.

But eventually you lose the battle to sleep, and your brain drifts off into a dream land. Everything in the world around you is temporarily gone while you explore the expanse of your subconscious, and a world where Jason takes a night off every once in a while.

“I love you.” He says quietly, barely audible.

And he knows you don’t hear it, so he’ll say it again in the morning; and every morning after that as long as you’re by his side.

#divider by cafekitsune #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagine #jason todd fic #jason todd i’ll love you forever

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melanieph321 · 2 months

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What about a Ruben one shot where he and the reader are a bit older and their oldest daughter is like 17 and she goes out to a party with some friends and ends up getting drunk for the first time and calls Ruben in the middle of the night, crying and feeling so bad about getting drunk and asking him to pick her up and he and the reader take care of the girl? Pleaseeee i love your writing 🙏🏻

Ugh, such a good request!

Please, let me have your babies, Ruben 😩😩😩

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS (DAY 5)

Ruben Dias x Reader - Our Little Women

Enjoy!

Ruben is a girl dad and loves his job more than anything in the world. He had nine months to prepare for it. And even when you had your second child, he was there, prepared to be the best dad to two beautiful girls. He couldn't imagine a life where he wasn't a girl dad, and perhaps that's where he went wrong, his lack of imagination. Ruben had never imagined that his girls would one day become little women, and the realization hit him pretty hard.

"Dad?"

He was in your bedroom sleeping, when a crack of the door reveled your youngest daughter Emilia, with the homeline in her hand.

"What?" He groand, a bit grumpy to be disturb in his sleep, especially with you, fast asleep in his arms.

"Gigi is on the phone." She said. "But why is he she talking so funny?"

"What?" Ruben sat up, rattling the bed as he did. Gigi, short for Giorgina, was your oldest daugter. It was late. Very late for her to call, especially if she was having a sleepover at her friends house. "Come here." Ruben waved for Emilia in the dark. She was quick to rush over with the homeline, raising her arms for Ruben to lift her up into your bed, unhanding her the phone as he pressed it to his ear.

"Hello, Gigi?"

His heart raised when there was no response. However, there was a dimmed sound of music playing in the back.

"Gigi, can you hear me? This is your dad."

"Dad?"

Ruben exhaled. "Yes, dad. Where are you?"

"Dad." His daughter sobbed.

Panic struck Ruben, but he fought to remain calm for Emilia's sake. She was still by his side, her head pressed to his chest.

"Daddy?" She whined, perhaps reacting to how his muscles had tensed.

"Shhh, it's okay." Ruben assured. "I'm trying to talk to your sister. Gigi, can you hear me? Where are you?"

"Daddy." Giorgina sobbed. Ruben did everything not to fly out of bed and run down the stairs.

"Just tell me where you are baby and I'll come get you. Daddy will come and get you."

"I'm at some guys house." She sniffled "My friends and I thought it would be fun to go to his party since him and his friends are a bit older than us..."

"Define older." Ruben said through clenched teeth.

"I dunno, eighteen? They told us that they were seniors."

"Seniors!" He snapped but put a hand to his mouth so as not to wake you up.

"Yes, seniors. Dad, I know that I messed up by lying to you and mom, but can you come and get me? I've had too much to drink and I can't find my friends...."

"Okay, okay...." Ruben said, calming her down.

"Please dad, I'm so scared."

"I'll be there in a minute. Just text me your address and try to stay out of trouble."

Ruben got out of bed.

"Daddy, is Gigi gonna be okay." Emilia asked.

"Yes, baby. She's gonna be fine." He planted a kiss on top of her head. "You stay with mommy and try to get some sleep, okay?"

"Okay."

With that Ruben got dressed and rushed downstairs. He grabbed his car keys and drove to the adress that your daughter had texted him. She was seen standing outiside of the house, on the sidewalk, waiting for him in the nights cold. Seeing that your daughter was okay, Ruben did nothing more than to open up the passenger door for her, driving off as she got in.

"Dad, I'm so sorry that I...."

"We'll discuss this in the morning."

"But I wanna...."

"I said in the morning Georgina! When your mother is awake."

Ruben kept his hands on the wheel, ignoring the way his daughter crumbled in the seat beside him. He was never the one to raise his voice at the girls. You were often the one more comfortable doing so, but tonight....tonight Ruben doesn't know what he would have done if he hadn't found your daughter waiting for him by the sidewalk. He would have probably stormed the house, threatening every teenage boy up in there to tell him where she was.

Pulling up to your driveway, Ruben was surprised to see you and Emilia waiting.

"Is she okay?" You asked, your expression laced with worry.

"She's fine." Ruben got out of the car and walked around it to open the door up for your daughter. She could barely walk on her own two, Ruben had to help her inside.

"Where was she? What happened to the sleepover at Talia's house?" You asked.

"Apprently they decided that it would be fun to sneak away to a party."

"What?"

"We'll have to give Talia's parents a call in the morning and inform them."

Ruben walked passed you and into the house. Just then your daughter looked to be hit with sudden nausea.

"I think I'm gonna...."

She rushed to the nearest bathroom, and you could only hope that she made it to the toilet in time. Nevertheless you saw the expression on Ruben's face and reached for his hand as you approached him. "You did good baby."

He looked to you, a bit taken aback.

You smiled reassuringly. "Why don't you take Emilia upstairs, tuck her back into bed for me? I'll make sure Gigi is okay."

He nodded his head and beant down to pick Emilia up in his arms. She was halfway asleep by the time he got her tucked into bed.

"Am I in trouble daddy?"

Ruben was on his way to the door when she had him turn back around. "Why would you be?" He said, stroking her hair as he sat down by her bedside.

"I woke up mommy and told her that you went to get Gigi."

Ruben smiled. "That's alright baby. You did what you thought to be right."

"Is Gigi gonna be alright?"

"Of course she is." Ruben assured. "She is just feeling a little sick at the moment. She'll be all good tomorrow, you'll see."

"Okay, daddy."

Ruben bent over to kiss her cheek. "You have a good sleep now."

"Goodnight, daddy."

"Goodnight baby."

Ruben stood and walked over to the door. However he did not shut it until he was sure that his daughter had fallen asleep. He returned to your bedroom, running a hand down his tired face. He could hear you downstairs, taking care of your daughter as she was throwing up whatever she and her friends had consumed that night. Ruben felt betrayed. His daughter knew how he felt about alcohol. Not to mention that she was only sixteen years old, drinking should be the last thing on your daughter's mind.

"Hey?"

Ruben jumped as your arms wrapped around him. He had been sitting on the edge of your bed, deep in reflection. To deep to notice you slip back into your bedroom.

"How are you holding up?" You asked, moving to sit down beside him.

He pulled you in for a hug. "How is Gigi?"

"She's fine." You assured. "At least she will be in the morning."

He nodded.

"How are you doing?"

"Me?" He looked to you and frowned.

"Yes you? You seem a bit shook up."

Ruben sighed. "I don't know. I guess I'm just..."

"Yes?"

"I'm just...."

"Ruben?" Your hand stroked his cheek. "It's okay to be disappointed at her."

He looked to you, surprised that you had read his mind.

You smiled. "She's still our little girl even if she messes up sometimes."

"Yes, but..."

You pressed a finger his lips, silencing him. "No buts. You have the right to be disappointed at her."

He exhaled, admitting defeat.

You leaned in to kiss him, and despite his initial hesitation he warmed up to it, a hand traveling to the back of your neck, deepening the kiss.

You pulled back breathless, happy to see that Ruben didn't look so deep in thought anymore.

"I guess I never thought about it." He said, pulling his t-shirt over his head.

"Thought about what?"

You did not hesitate to lift up your arms as Ruben then tugged the hem of your own shirt.

"I never thought they'd grow up on me." He said, helping you undress. He pulled you down to lay beneath him, loving the way you giggled when he traced soft kiss up your body. He traced them all the way to the crook of your neck, moving on to the edge of your jaw.

"But they will." You said, cradling Ruben's face between your hands, meeting his eyes. "Our little women."

He smiled. "Yes they will, our little women."

#fanfiction #football imagine #ruben dias #man city #manchester city #footballer imagine #footballer x reader #football angst #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagine #seven days of requests

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tomsvouge · 3 months

Text

Bad Idea Right?

Pairings: Ex!Joe burrow x Ex!Reader Warnings:Alcohol use, situationship, mentions of sex Summary- What happens when y/n gets a text message from someone in her past that her friends are not fond of? Her friends tell her not to go but it can’t be a bad idea…. right?

Who would have thought I would end the night with him, In his bed cuddled with him like we are together. Should I regret it? Probably. Do I regret it? Hell no! Have you seen this man he is literally a walking hercules and who am I to block an opportunity that I was given. Anyways, you may be asking, "y/n what the heck are you even talking about?". Well let's go back to earlier in the day where everything started.

My friends and I were talking about throwing a party and I couldn't be more excited. I needed something to get my mind off of him. Me and Joe are kinda rocky when it comes to a relationship. We broke up about two months ago. Usually when two people break up they dont talk to each other, buttttt me and Joe have been sneaking around for the past two weeks. No one knows about this, not my friends, not his friends just sneaking around like two teenagers.

As we all sit on my couch we start talking about party details, y’know the time, who to invite the food, all that good boring stuff when out of nowhere melody says this.

“Well since we're talking about personal invites I don't think you should invite Joe y/n”- Melody

“Why would I invite Joe? We're done. Over” I said lying through my teeth knowing that we were still hooking up.

“I'm just saying you seem to be tense each time you see him. Like that one time we were watching tv and his Bose ad came on. You looked like you saw a ghost.” She says laughing.

“I was Just shocked at his dance moves, I thought I taught him better when we took that dance class.” and that was true we did take a dance class but let's just say, Joeys not dancing for a while.

“I wasn't the worst i've seen but also not the best”- Kaylee says while writing something down.

OK! Can we stop talking about my ex, kinda getting weird.

“Ok but just know Joe Burrow is not allowed through these doors.” Melody says in a serious tone.

“Got it Not allowed through the doors.” I say looking at her.

“I'll just let him in the backyard” I say in my head.

Getting ready for the party I put on my outfit and did my makeup. As I'm putting on my mascara I get a facetime. I look at the screen and immediately knew it was joe as his contact name is “LOSER NOT WORTH MENTIONING🩷” showed up. Reluctantly I picked up the phone.

“What?” I say in a aggravated tone

“Well hello to you too” Joe says, rolling his eyes on the other side of the phone.

“What are you doing?” he says, trying to change the vibe of the call.

Getting ready-i say in a sassy tone.

“For?”- Joe

“My party”-y/n

“And i didnt get an invite?” joe says with that cocky smile on his face

“Didn't think you needed one considering we were not really together”- I say side eyeing him so hard you could feel it.

“Just because we're not together doesn't mean we cant be friends”- joe

“If this is what you call just friends I would love to see what you do with people you hate.” i say laughing

“You know what i mean” - Joe

“Friends dont have sex nearly every night and talk to each other the way we do.”- y/n

“Well friends also don't hide things from each other” Joe says, placing the phone down so I could see him.

“I didn't invite you because you are not allowed to come, you are not exactly on my friend's good side right now.”- y/n

My friend did not like Joeto much after the shit they had heard about him from endless phone calls to late night gossip sessions at the house. He didn't hurt me like cheat or anything. He is actually a nice guy but anyone who plays mind games and gaslights is a no no in my friend's book.

“Nothing new, I wasn't on their good side when we were together.”- Joe

“But since I can't come to you, how about you come to me?”- Joe

“And why would I do that?” I genuinely asked because who was he to think I would leave my own party for him.

Because we can't get enough of each other no matter how hard we try we both know that we will all go back.

And Joe was right, no matter how hard I tried to move on, no one seemed to understand me like Joe does. He knows everything about me. He accepts me for who I am and vice versa. Still sad we didn't work out due to commitment and trust issues. I think when the time's right Joe and I will be perfect for eachother.

“Well I'll think about it.”- I say

“Good, let me know when you decide.” - Joe

I was having the time of my life. My friends made sure I didn't even think about joe. So much that I forgot to even remind him if I was coming or not.

In the middle of taking group shots I feel a vibrate coming from my hip.

LOSER NOT WORTH MENTIONING🩷- u still coming??

“Don't do it.”-Kaylee says, looking over my shoulder.

“Who said I was?”

“You didn't say that but the look on your face said otherwise.”

“Okay but would you pass up a chance to just go back to your ex for one night.”

“One night more like two weeks but she didn't need to know that right now.”

“No I wouldn't, he cheated and I'll be damned if I go back to him just to disrespect myself again.”

“Well I won't if i will make you happy.”

“Good”

Okay sooo im going to his house. You guys may say I have little respect for myself but all the respect leaves my body when I see that man. You get in a room alone with Joe Burrow and see how long you last without being all over him. Plus, can't be that bad of an idea right?

With my luck the rain decided to pour harder and completely drench me. Rushing to my car I hopped in and started it. I quickly texted Joe back telling him I was on my way. Thankfully The drive from my house to joes is not that far at all. Getting out of the car rushing to get to the front door as the rain came down on me. When I kid you not to say this man is a QB he is not quick on his feet off the field. I literally took him forever to open the door.

Walking in the house I'm immediately tackled into hugs and kisses . After a while pushing wavy from him I decided I needed to put my clothes somewhere because wet clothes just don't feel comfortable.

Eventually me and Joe decided to chill on the couch and talk for a while. And lets just say after the talk and cuddles the door was locked to that bedroom and that's how we got to this morning

I woke up to like a million texts from my friends asking me why I disappeared in the middle of the party and I just told them all that I didn't feel well and went up early to sleep. Looking over left I see Joe sleeping with his arms wrapped around me. Part of me felt bad for lying to my friends about going to sleep early but technically i did lie i said I was sleep I just didn't say where.

hey guys! I'm gonna try to start putting out more fics . I chose to do this as a fun hobby and I just don't want it to feel and chore or job but if you want to request fics you are welcome to do so 🩷

#joe burrow #tomsvouge #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fic #joeburrow

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surielstea · 3 months

Text

Ballroom Secrets (pt. 11)

Based on this request.

Read pt.I here.

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader

Summary: Cassian finds out about readers secret relationship with the High Lord of Autumn.

Warning: Angst | Slight description of depression | hurt/comfort | happy ending

5.6k words

A/N: Sorry this is so long 😭😭 I just really wanted to get the angst right so it got long quick, hope you enjoy! :)

I sat in the sitting room of the river house cuddled up next to Morrigan who was splitting a bottle of wine with me.

"Where'd you get this?" Mor asks, pinching the silk of my new dress between her hands. "Oh I'm not sure, it was a gift." I smile, remembering the way Eris handed it to me for no particular reason other than the fact that he wanted to take it off of me. "From who?" Feyre asks in her own chair, Rhysand standing beside her, leaning against the arm rest. My mouth goes dry.

"It's a male, look at the way she's blushing." Azriel hummed, leaning back against the wall. I cast him a glare but he only returns it with a soft smile. "The same male that gave you this?" Mor points to my neck. "Gave her what?" Cassian perks up from his sprawled out position on the couch, Nesta's feet in his lap. "Yeah, what?" I look to Mor confused. "A hickey." A smirk curves her lips and I slap my hand over where the mark lies.

"By who?" Nesta sits up, gods even she was interested. "No one, I don't know— just some guy." I stumble over my words, cursing myself for my horrible lie. Azriel nearly laughs and rightfully so, his shadows were probably picking up on every nerve that tensed in my body.

"Is that why you've been missing training?" Cassian raised a brow and I can't will the words to leave my mouth. I've always been a horrible liar, Eris has tried to teach me his ways of deceit but it was no use when every time I tried to be quick witted or malevolent it failed miserably and I made a fool of myself. "I've been missing training because you schedule it for the asscrack of dawn." I grumble, half truths however were my forte. Cassian narrows his eyes on me and I swallow thickly. "Oh leave her alone already, let the girl have her fun." Amren speaks up and I silently thank every god I can think of. "Cauldron knows she's had the three of you Illyrians hovering over her shoulder since she was born." The eldest of us finalizes and the conversation thankfully ends there.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

I was in the middle of reading a novel in my bedroom of the river house when a note fluttered down onto my chest, appearing from thin air. A soft smile comes to my lips as I close the book and pick up the note, recognizing the handwriting immediately.

Will you be home soon?

I twist my lips to the side and dwell over the question before flipping on my side to grab a pen from my nightstand. I quickly write back and watch the note disappear from my hands.

I'm waiting for everyone to fall asleep, we're all night owls evidently.

It takes only a minute for him to reply and the words on the paper make me audibly giggle.

Drug them. I miss you, and I'm tired.

Can't sleep without me?

Apparently not. I smile widely at the sentiment. I'll leave soon, just for you.

Soon isn't soon enough

I roll my eyes at his childish impatience but a smile forms over my face as I write out my retort.

Shut your whining up, I'm trying to read

You're so mean to me (I like it)

I don't write back, deciding that if I say anything else he might winnow here himself just to take me back, which wouldn't be good. I opened my book back up but as soon as I was getting back into the story there was a knock at my door. I sigh and use Eris' note as a bookmark before shutting it. "Come in." I call, sitting up.

Cassian enters, taking up the whole entry way as he shuts the door behind him. I smile at my brother as he looks to me with his warm hazel eyes. "I thought you were going to bed?" He creases his brows skeptically and I roll my eyes. "I say that, and then I read my romance novels." I lift up my book and it was his turn to roll his eyes, taking a seat on my bed.

Cassian isn't my brother by blood, but he might as well be. I can't remember a time when he wasn't taking care of me. When he was only seven years old he offered me shelter in his tent. I was six and lost, my parents deserting me, or so I presumed. He tucked me under his wing and shielded me from the rain until arriving back to the tent. He snuck me food from Windhaven and even stole maids clothes off of laundry lines. If it weren't for him I most likely wouldn't be alive today, ever since then he's been particularly protective of me, even towards friends from other courts. I wasn't Illyrian either, but he always said I acted like one. Perhaps that was an insult, but I took it as a compliment.

"What's up?" I shift in my bed so my legs dangle over the side and he's right beside me. "We haven't talked in awhile, I miss you." It was true. It feels like it's been months since it's been just him and I. Realization dawns upon me that all of my free time has gone to Eris, he's my mate sure, but that doesn't mean I want to leave the rest of my family in the past.

"I know. I'm sorry." I lean my head on his shoulder. "I've been busy." I murmur, fiddling with my hands.

"Alright, Who's the lucky guy— or gal, I don't discriminate." He hums and my heart drops. Gods I did not want to expose my relationship with Eris right now. Not ever. "Can we not talk about this right now?" I say, my voice gentle and pleading. "C'mon, you used to tell me everything." He groans and I lift my head from his shoulder, my hands coming to my knees to stop from fidgeting. "This is different." I shrug.

"How so?"

His question is met with silence, I was weighing whether or not I should just kick him out and tell him I'm tired. He'd leave if I asked. But I didn't want him to, just didn't want to talk about this.

"I'd like to meet who's got my sister glowing like this." He bumps my side with his. "Doubt it." I grumble, then curse myself for letting that slip. "What's that supposed to mean?" He snorts a laugh and I look at him nervously, gripping my knees tighter as his smile slowly drops. "I've met him?" He arches a brow and all I can do is slowly nod. Is this it? All that sneaking around summing up to this very moment? "Do I like this guy?" He guesses like this is a game and the health of our friendship isn't in my hands. "Not really, no." I answer honestly, lying is impossible and staying silent will only cause his thoughts to drive him mad.

"Well if he's got you this happy, I'm willing to reevaluate." He shrugs, carefree. He clearly doesn't understand the situation. "It's not that simple." I shake my head, looking away from him and back to my lap. "Talk to me, I won't judge." He reaches over, placing his calloused hand on my clenched ones. "Promise." He gives them a reassuring squeeze. A pit forms in my stomach. My nails dig into the skin of my knees and he understands, pulling his hand away. My eyes widen and I can only pray he doesn't hate me for this.

"Before I tell you, try not to be too mad okay?" I crease my brows, swallowing thickly and looking to him. "Uh, okay?" He looks at me foolishly. "I'm serious." I stress with wide eyes. "Okay, okay, I won't be mad." He promises and I force myself to take a deep breath. This truth that I've been hiding for nearly a year now about to be exposed. All because I forgot to glamour a fucking hickey on my neck. Gods how could I have been so stupid?

I realize the quiet has been dragging on for far too long and that if I don't tell him now I never will.

"Eris."

Silence. He doesn't make a sound and he doesn't move. A weight lifts from my shoulders and for a second it's bliss. "What?" His voice lacks emotion and a new weight envelopes me. Fuck. "Eris is the male I've been secretly seeing." It comes out in a pitiful whisper. "Are you mad?" I was quick to ask, but he doesn't reply for a long moment. Allowing me to think of everything I've done. All that I've risked just to be with my mate, to be happy.

"Please tell me you're talking about another Eris." He tries to remain calm but I can hear it, the quiver of his voice, the clenching of his fists. I shake my head no and I swore I could feel the heat radiating off of him, pure anger. "You promised you wouldn't be mad!" I stand to look at him, a fire in his eyes that is pure rage.

"Well that was before you let that bastard into your bed." He stands and my neck cranes up to keep eye contact, the power dynamics making my legs wobble. Gods I felt useless.

"It's not like that—" I try to defend but he doesn't let me finish. "What? Don't tell me you think he's in love with you?" He scoffs like it's the most improbable thing on the continent. Tears well in my eyes at the idea. "You don't know him." I defend. "I don't want to, for all I know he's probably using you for a good fuck—" He starts. "Stop it." I demand and he clamps his mouth shut. "He's better than you think." I will my voice not to break. "Has he brainwashed you? You can't be serious." He nearly laughed at the idea. I don't say anything, allowing him to get his anger out before I plead my case.

"Or have you forgotten what he's done to Morrigan?" A shutter racks through me and I can't bring myself to look him in the eyes. "That story isn't true." I rasped but I doubt he hears me. I must sound insane to him. "Do you know who his parents are? How you'll be treated if you ever married him?" He goes on but it's not true, none of what he says is true. "You'll be a fucking brood mare, forced to give sons over and over again. Do you understand that?" His hand comes to my shoulders, squeezing tightly. "He's not Beron. We've talked about it, he doesn't even want kids unless I'm willing to give that to him." My words are just above a whisper and he lets go of my shoulders like he's repulsed, as if I hold a virus and he doesn't want to get infected.

"It doesn't matter. Eventually you become parents." He whispered. "You really believe that? Tell that to Rhys. To Morrigan, or Azriel. Tell that to fucking Nesta." I grit out, whipping my head up to look at him and his hypocritical statements. I allow him to see the fury in my eyes, the tears streaming down my cheeks. "Leave her out of this." He narrows his eyes on me.

The first argument to this level we ever had was over his mate. I hated her, loathed every part of her and what she made my brother go through— and now she's one of my most trusted friends and one of my favorite people. A laugh escapes from my body. I must've looked crazy finding amusement at a time like this. "It's the same thing." I bring my hands up to wipe my tears. "Gods were so fucking predictable." I sigh out. He looks at me confused, eyes analyzing my body language. "Nesta is just like him, and you know it." I narrow my brows at him. "This is different." He clenches his fists at his sides. "How so? Give me one good reason as to how this is different?" I will him. "Eris hurt Mor." He says the crime like it's dirt in his mouth. "Nesta hurt Feyre." I reason with him. He grits his teeth. "He hates Illyrians. He hates you and I because of where we come from, do you understand how fucked that is?" His hands come to my wrists, as if pleading me to listen.

"His father hates Illyrians." I correct. "And stop saying I'm an Illyrian I'm not." I pull at his grip but it's iron. "Fine. But he hates me, are you picking sides right now?" His brows crease like I've betrayed him. "No! I—" My breath gets caught halfway up my throat. "I don't want to pick sides, I want both." Tears continue falling and I don't bother wiping them away anymore. "And Nesta hated the Fae entirely, don't be so certain that makes them different." I seethe out at him and he narrows his eyes at me. "We're mates. Nesta and I are cauldron willed, you can't ignore something like that." He says and I stare at him unwavering, not bothering to say anything but rather dropping my glamour around the mating bond connected straight to the high lord of Autumn.

His eyes widen and his grip on my wrists loosens but I don't pull away. "No," His voice is a whisper. I nod. "Reject the bond, you deserve better than him I don't care if you love him." He rules. "I already accepted it, nearly half a year ago." I expose. If I was going to be honest I might as well lay it all out. "Half a year?" He rasps and I nod gravely. "You've been lying to me for half of a fucking year?" His tone is louder, more angry. "I don't understand why you care so deeply, I gave you my reasons now leave it alone." I match his lever of voice. "Why I care? I've always cared, you're my family—" He begins and I tear my wrists from his grasp. "You're not even my real brother!" I yell at him and I swore the world stopped spinning. Pain flashes across his eyes and he stumbles back, his mouth falling open before he clamps it shut and swallows thickly.

"Cass I didn't—" I try. "No." He looks at me like he's never seen me before. "You've made your point clear." He walks to the door. Every fiber of my being wants to beg him to stay. But my feet can't move and I stare aimlessly as he leaves, the door clicking shut with a gut wrenching softness. Leaving me alone with my thoughts.

I use whatever remaining energy I have left to winnow back to my apartment. Where I knew Eris impatiently waited for me to return. I land wobbly on my feet, tears slowly cascading from the wells of my eyes. Eris who was laid on the couch with a book sat up alarmed. I remove the walls around our bond and allow the misery that overwhelmed me to flood into his end of our connection.

He rushes toward me alarmed, fire raging in his eyes but not toward me, toward whoever made me feel this way. "Eris," I murmur, I was sure I was going to collapse. "My love," He brings a hand to my waist, keeping me steady but that didn't stop a choked sob from escaping me. "What's wrong?" His other hand comes to my cheek, wiping away my tears. "Talk to me." His brows crease and this feels so wrong, seeking comfort in the very reason Cassian is mad at me in the first place.

"He knows." I whisper. "Who knows?" His brows crease in confusion, before they relax with realization. I grip his shirt in my fists, looking up at him like a lost animal. "I'm a horrible sister." I confess, my voice breaking on the final word. "No," He shakes his head, pulling me into his chest, holding me close and warming me up. "No love, don't say that." He whispered into my hair, his arms tight around me.

Another sob racks through me but he doesn't shush me, he allows the dam of tears to break and every emotion I've kept bottled up for the past half year comes flowing out.

I tell him everything. From the moment Mor noticed the hickey to the point when Cassian left my bedroom. My voice shook when telling him of what I said to my brother. "And now I'm here and, and I don't know what to do." I sobbed, looking up at him as he ran a hand through the ends of my hair. "I see." His voice is soft, caring. "I was so mad, I wasn't thinking and with all the words he said about you I just— I hated him at that moment." I cup my mouth at the realization. I never wanted to hate anyone, especially not someone I love so much. I never want to feel that uncontrollable emotion ever again.

"It's not your fault." He stresses. "We'll figure this out together alright?" His thumb traces along my cheek and I nod, blinking away my final tears. "But what if he never wants to talk to me again?" I whisper. "What if he hates me?" My lip quivers at the thoughts, I don’t know how I’d live with myself if Cassian ever hated me. "Your brother loves you too much to ever consider that. Alright?" His hands grip my face slightly as if to stress his point and I nod meekly, slipping my hands around his waist again and hugging him tightly.

He releases a deep sigh and hugs me back, his touch warming my skin in a way that comforted me more than he could ever know. In the hug I begin to wonder how he feels about the world knowing. I hoped he knew how much he’s helping me, how much I appreciated that he’s here for me. Then I realized that he might be thinking of leaving for my benefit, so I can return to Cassian and tell him everything he said about Eris was right and I can stay with my family. I didn’t want that. Gods, why can’t I have both? The cauldron must’ve been playing a cruel joke on me. "Please, don't leave." I beg of him. He bends down and places a hard kiss to the temple of my head. "Never." But he would, if I asked.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The next few days were long. I barely slept, every time I tried I'd be reminded of the words I spat at Cassian. I couldn't face him, didn't dare go back to the River House, much less the House of Wind. I stayed in bed, staring out the window of my bedroom, watching the sunset shining against the Sidra, the water refracting in rainbows as stars awakened in the sky. Another day passes.

I felt hollow, my limbs heavy and my stomach a pit. I knew I'd have to face Cassian soon, see him and the others. I wonder if he told them, warned them all to no longer speak to me. All because of who I'm in love with. Anger consumed me for a few days, thinking him deserving for what I said. Who was he to pick who I can and cannot love? I spent hours cursing him as a hypocritical bastard, spewing lies to convince myself I was in the right.

I slowly came to, deciding I needed to stop avoiding my own fate and face what truly lies at the root of the problem. The rest of the days of my solitude was spent in grief.

Feeling sorry for myself wasn't any better than the raging nights. It was truly pitiful how I ended up here.

There was a knock at the door frame. I didn't have to look to guess it was my mate. "I'm not hungry Eris." I say plainly, continuing to stare out at the river. "Have you eaten today?" I don’t expect his voice to be behind me as he slithers into the bed beside me, curling an arm around my waist. “I had a bowl of soup not too long ago.” I answer, flipping onto my side to look up at him. His golden eyes that rolled with sadness, he couldn’t help blaming himself for my situation and I hated that he did. “Okay.” He pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I have to return to Autumn later tonight, high lord stuff.” He grumbled and I groaned, tucking closer to him. “I’ll be back in the morning.” He promised. I huff, wrapping an arm around his torso and burrowing into his chest. “Unless, you want to come with me?” He arched a brow and I look up at him, my head propped up on his chest. “To the Autumn court?” I ask. He nods, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

I haven’t been to my mates court since Eris’ coronation because it’d raise suspicion if a girl from Rhysand’s inner circle began to roam the markets of the foreign court. But I suppose that didn’t matter now if our secrets out. “You think your people will react well?” I ask anxiously. “After my father ruled over them they’ll take anything they can get, and if a pretty high lady is an option I think they’ll be over the moon.” He offers me a gentle smile. “High lady?” I can’t help but smile at the idea of ruling a court together. He nods. I fantasize about the idea for a moment, until the thought of Cassian finding out about me proudly wearing an autumn court crown settles over me. He’d fall into a fit of pure rage and I’d never forgive myself. “Can we wait?” I ask. “Just until all this is resolved with Cass, and then yes. I’d love to be your high lady.” I nod. He gives me a comforting expression. “Of course my love.” He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to my lips. I him against the action and kiss him back. Wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer. His lips slotted perfectly against mine and the feeling that bloomed in my chest when kissing him filled the pit of my stomach and the hollowness of my heart. I felt lighter. A knock sounds at the front door, loud and demanding. My ears perk at the sound and I pull back, he seems to want to chase my mouth back to his but he freezes too when another impatient knock rings through the house.

I sigh and sink down into the bed. "You can answer it." I say, removing my arms from his neck. "Are you sure?" He asks, his own warm arms slipping from my waist and I wished they didn’t. "They all know by now, what's the point of hiding it?" I grumble, and he nods as he stands from the bed, my eyes watching him as he does so. "Alright." He nods. “If it’s not Cassian I’m not interested.” I voice. He glances to me and only nods in reply.

He leaves the room and my eyes go back to the window. I strain my ears to hear for the voices in the living room but I can only hear Eris.

"She doesn't want to see you." He said. A mumble of a voice replied, it was soft, must be female. My hope diminished when I realized it's not my brother. "In the bedroom." Is the next thing I hear from my mate and I mentally prepare for whoever is about to walk into my room.

The door creeks open but I don't move. I stay looking out the window, watching as dusk now takes over the sky. "Gods its dark in here." Nesta.

I don't have the energy to reply, giving her enough of an answer with my silence. "Look, I know I'm not who you want to see, but he's in a similar state as you." She hums and that fact settles deep into my bones. I adjust, sitting up and facing her, leaning back against my headboard.

"He throws up every night too?" I ask with a wry sense of humor. Nesta tossed a glare toward Eris who stood at the doorway like a guard.

"No, much worse. He won't stop training." She hums, crossing her arms and sitting on the edge of the bed beside my thighs. Her eyes go distant as she thinks about her mate. "He's spent more time in the training ring than sleeping as of late, he doesn't joke anymore, and I haven't seen him smile in a week." She confesses, her brows creased in concern.

"Are you telling me this to try and make me feel better?" I murmur, avoiding her gaze.

"You know me better than that." She scoffs. It was true, Nesta is one of my best friends. The three Valkyries all are, but especially the eldest Archeron. I remember all the things I said about her, how I boiled her down to all of her faults. The hollowness returns and another thing I will never forgive myself about forms. "I care about you, but I care about him more." She stands up, Eris growls from the doorway but I wave him off, understanding what she meant. "And I just need the two of you to figure your shit out so he goes back to his usual self, it’s so quiet at the house." She crosses her arms over her chest defensively but her tone is soft. "He misses you." She reveals. "He won't admit it but he wants to see you, stop by the house, please." She finalizes, before turning on her heel and walking towards the door.

"Nesta," I call, she whirls around to look at me. "Thank you." Is all I can get out. She nods, then turns back around and exits the way she came.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

The house of wind was emptier than I expected it to be. Eris offered a dozen times to come with me last night, saying that he’d cancel his meetings in the Autumn court so he can offer some sort of support but I told him he had to tend to his own court, that I had to do this on my own. So here I was, about an entire day after Nesta's speech, ready to face my brother. Or at least I hoped I was.

I wandered the halls, stretching ny hearing for any sound but I was met with nothing. I remember Nesta mentioning the training ring so I ascend the steps to the roof.

The clang of metal swords clash loudly as I welcome myself onto the landing, staring at my brother and Azriel who were sparring just to get frustration out. Cassian was sloppy with his moves, not breathing through each step the way he usually did. And Azriel was going easy on him. It was rare for the competitive shadow singer to sympathize but in this instance he was working Cassian like a charity case. The general knew it too and only fueled more of that anger he held in each of his swings.

Azriel and I make eye contact and his movements freeze, shadows pooling at my feet as Cassian struck him down and pinned him with his sword. "Again." My brother demanded, reaching his hand out toward the spymaster. Azriel remained looking at me and with the distraction, Cassian whirled around to look at me with narrowed eyes that quickly turned wide.

His sword clattered down onto the mat as he let it slip from his hand. "Cass." My voice is a rasp. He takes a step out of the training ring until he's right in front of me and I'm looking up at him again.

Tears well in my eyes. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said I just—" I tried to speak but was cut off by his large arms wrapping around me tightly into a warm hug. I melt into it, releasing a soft sigh of relief and hugging him back. "You were right." He confesses. "I was just hurt and wasn't thinking about how you might be feeling." He mutters into my hair. "No you were right to be mad," I shake my head. "I kept it a secret from you for a long time, I should tell you everything." I admit and he backs away from the hug.

"I don't want you to feel like you can't tell me things, I reacted poorly." He sighs. "I did too, the things I said about Nesta were uncalled for. You know I love her." I say with tearful eyes. “I know, it’s okay.” He reassures, squeezing me tighter and lifting me up off the ground slightly with his height. "But, I'm not sorry for being with Eris." I assert as he places me back on the ground and he backs away. His eyes soften and he wipes a stray tear from my face. "I know, it'll take some time for me to get used to but I want you to be happy." He utters and that's all I needed to hear. "I can't promise he'll be invited to all the family dinners." He scratches the side of his neck and I offer him a relaxed smile. "That's okay," I nod my head. "I doubt he'd want to come anyways." I shrug. "The prick should consider himself lucky for even being able to look at you." Cassian grumbles. I give him a reprimanding look and he puts his hands up like he's been caught for a crime. "Sorry, I'll be better." He promises. "Thank you, brother." I pull him closer into another hug. "Means the world to me." I mumble and he presses a kiss to the crown of my head the way he's always done for the past five hundred years.

"You're sweaty." I grimace, breaking away from his hug. I lean to the side of him to see Azriel waiting impatiently for him to return to the training ring. "Do me a favor?" I look up at him. "Anything." He hums without hesitation. "Kick Az's ass for me?" I arch a brow and a menacing smile curves his lips. "I heard that!" Azriel calls from a few yards away, dammed shadows.

I look at the blue siphoned male glaring at me as Cassian retreats back to his sword. I blow the spy master a kiss and he waves me off. I smile contentedly and winnow back home.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Eris leaned against the kitchen counter with a furrow in his brow, waiting impatiently for me to return. I was surprised at his early arrival, he said he’d be home tonight but the sun had barely left the horizon. I suppose he wanted to return as soon as possible. He pushed off the counter and looks at me expectantly. A bright smile curves my lips and I jump into his arms, he catches me without so much as a stumble back, his warm hands coming under my thighs and heating me up like a cozy fire. "Everything's okay?" He asks worriedly, I don't reply and instead bring my hands up to his sharp cheekbones and pull him in for a kiss.

It was soft and lasting, like he was afraid I was going to tell him to leave after this ends. That Cassian somehow convinced me my mate was some maniacal creature who didn't deserve love. He wouldn't blame me, he'd go if I asked him and that fact is tearing at me. So I deepened our kiss, pulling him closer with a hope to reassure him.

"Please tell me everything's okay." He begs against my lips and I nod. "Everything's okay." I whisper with a small smile and he releases a hefty sigh, the weight of a world lifting from his shoulders. "Cass said he'd try his best. But then he followed up by saying you're a prick so?" I scrunch my nose at the way it sounds and he grins widely. "Sounds about right." He nods, placing me atop the countertop.

"Thank you." I say, wrapping my legs around him. "For what my dear?" His brows crease. "You took care of me when I was at my worst, I appreciate it." I softly say, his eyes glaze over for a moment but the sheen quickly disappears after he blinks. "You would've done the same thing for me." He shakes his head, leaning closer and pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of my lips. "I think I'll miss sneaking around with you." He admits and I chuckle. "Me too, but think about all the things we can do now that we don't have to be a secret?" I grin wildly at all the possibilities. His eyes light up and a smirk curves his sensual lips.

"What?" I ask him nervously when he doesn't say anything. "How would you like to be crowned high lady now?" He suggests and my cheeks heat. "But you've already been crowned, can we still do that?" I tilt my head. "It's my court love, I can do whatever I want." His arrogant tone makes me roll my eyes. "And what do you want?" I tilt my head, running my hands through the tufts of his deep auburn hair. "I want you on my throne." He purred, pressing a kiss to my jaw. "That can be arranged." I grin, throwing my arms over his shoulders.

"Anything else high lord?" I give him a seductive smile and he gets the hint. "I also want to fuck you by the fireplace." He confessed, pressing light kisses up the side of my face. "Then what are you waiting for?"

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#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #sarah j maas #x reader #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #x you #fanfic #sequel fic #suriels tea

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drvirgus · 4 months

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hi; i dont know if i can request it but if can; can i request hanni oneshot where she and y/n are in a relationship and for as long as hanni remember she can’t find any weakness on y/n. so she tried making you jealous, annoyed and everything possible but y/n just prove she is the greenest flag ever until one moment when she found out that y/n actually have weakness in different between left and right or anything else. your writing is just so good👉🏻👈🏻

hope you like it

Show me your Weakness

Hanni X Reader

One Shot

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I yawned tiredly. In my hand, a glass of wine, while I glanced at the person next to me. Haerin noticed my yawning and smiled sympathetically, "Why don't you tell Hanni that you want to leave?" the younger one suggested, glancing briefly at Hanni. I smiled too, "Oh no. Hanni seems to be having a lot of fun. It's been quite a while since we all could get together like this," I replied, and my eyes also fell on my girlfriend.

A smile played on my lips as our eyes met. However, Hanni grinned shortly afterward and moved a bit closer to Minji. She danced closer to Minji, which made me chuckle. Haerin next to me narrowed her eyes and looked from Hanni and Minji to me, "Um, is that okay with you?" she asked, now more cautiously.

I immediately turned my attention to Haerin and laughed a bit, "Of course. Minji is Hanni's best friend, and besides, I trust her," I replied, and Haerin nodded slightly. I took a small sip from my wine glass and looked back at Hanni. She kept glancing at me, this time looking dissatisfied.

I noticed Hanni approaching me. Her arms wrapped around my neck as she sat on my lap, "Minji can really dance well," I heard my girlfriend say, a smile on her lips as she looked at me. A certain sparkle in her eyes.

I nodded my head, "Yes, she's pretty good. But you're much better," I replied, my arms around her waist as I rested my forehead against her shoulder. For a while, my eyes closed, the music pounding in my ears, and the taste of alcohol becoming more unpleasant with each passing second.

"Should we go, baby?" Hanni asked, looking at me with a small smirk on her face. I looked at her immediately, "Are you sure? We can stay longer if you want," I replied, which made Hanni smile even wider. She chuckled softly and immediately gave me a kiss on the temple, "I'm tired too. We should go."

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Smiling, I looked into the camera as I started a video chat with Yeji. The older woman sat on her bed while I leaned back on my couch. The laptop was on the coffee table in front of me. "So? What are our plans for the next schedule? Manager-nim didn't tell me anything concrete," I asked as I glanced at my laptop.

Yeji, the leader of Itzy, sighed softly and visibly rolled her eyes. "I don't know myself. They mentioned something about a variety show, but that's about it," the older one replied. I nodded understandingly and picked up my coffee cup to take a sip.

"Baby?"

My head turned to Hanni, who rubbed her eyes sleepily and slowly approached me. I smiled, "Good morning, baby. I can't right now, okay?" I said, pointing to the video chat with Yeji. However, Hanni looked at me and then at Yeji. Her jaw slightly tensed.

She was quite jealous of Yeji since the Midzys shipped me with her. Moreover, before I met Hanni, I may have had a tiny crush on her. I smiled encouragingly and turned my head back to Yeji, "Sorry. So, a variety show? Have you already messaged Manager-nim, or should I do it?" I asked.

From the corner of my eye, I noticed Hanni heading to the kitchen. Yeji shook her head, yawning softly, "No, I've already taken care of it," she replied, and I nodded again. I sighed a bit as I ran my hand over my forehead. I was tired as Hanni and I went to bed late.

"Oh. Can you get all the Newjeans members to do a video for Instagram with you?" the older one asked, and I immediately smiled, "Of course. They're all my friends," I said, laughing lightly. However, Yeji grinned shortly afterward, "Friends, huh? What about the woman in your apartment?" she teased, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

I laughed at the gesture and shook my head in amusement. I noticed Hanni returning to the living room from the kitchen. Her eyes visibly narrowed, "Baby?" she asked, making me look back at her. The younger one had her arms crossed over her chest, "I didn't know you had to work today," she said, and my eyes slightly widened.

She was quite annoyed.

"Sorry, baby. It won't take long," I immediately replied, but Hanni didn't budge. I turned my attention back to Yeji. The older one noticed my nervous expression and sighed amusedly, "I should let you go, Y/n. I need to talk to Chaeryeong and Ryujin," she said. I nodded and said my goodbyes.

I felt Hanni sitting next to me as I closed the laptop, focusing all my attention on my girlfriend. "Aren't you annoyed?" Hanni asked, surprised to see me so relaxed. I furrowed my brow questioningly, "No, why would I be?" I asked with a smile. However, Hanni just rolled her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest again.

"Because I interrupted your work?" she asked, stating the obvious, making me smile a bit. I immediately put my arm around my girlfriend, pulling her closer to me, "You're not a disturbance," I replied, causing Hanni to sigh slightly. Defeated, she rested her head against my shoulder.

"Do you even have weaknesses?"

"What?"

"Never mind."

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"Are you sure?" I asked as I looked at my girlfriend. She sat on the couch, wrapped in my hoodie, with a bowl of popcorn on her lap while mine was on the coffee table. I took a deep breath, "Yeah, let's watch the horror movie. If you get scared, I'm here," Hanni said confidently.

I nodded with my head and pressed play. The remote control was now next to me as I got comfortable under the blanket with Hanni. Almost immediately, her head rested on my shoulder, "This one is really scary, Han," I warned, which made Hanni laugh a bit, "That's why I picked it," she replied.

I peacefully enjoyed my popcorn while in the movie, guts flew in the air, and it got quite bloody. Hanni repeatedly hid her face against my shoulder whenever it got even remotely scary. My arm immediately wrapped around her as I moved closer to her.

"Ahhh," Hanni screamed when a jump scare appeared in the movie. That made me laugh a bit. She looked pretty cute when she got scared. Hanni looked at me shortly after, a horrified expression on her face, "Aren't you scared?" she asked with her mouth wide open. I smiled immediately.

"No," I replied and gave her a kiss. She looked at me in disbelief while my attention returned to the movie. The younger one sighed defeated once again, "No weaknesses," she muttered softly.

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"Minji and I are shipped so often," I heard it next to me as Hanni turned her phone towards me to show me one of those shipper videos on Instagram. I watched it and couldn't help but smile, "It just shows that you're really good friends. Fans somehow turn everything into something romantic," I replied, laughing lightly, which left Hanni audibly discontent.

She scrolled further and showed me more videos where she was shipped with someone, mainly Minji. I chuckled softly as I shook my head in amusement. Hanni, however, scrutinized every one of my reactions and became increasingly angrier. Her forehead furrowed as she carelessly threw her phone next to her, "Doesn't it bother you at all?!" she asked, visibly angry now.

My eyebrows raised as I looked at my girlfriend in surprise, "What do you mean?" I asked, visibly confused. "Well, that I'm shipped with others? Everyone wants me to be together with Minji," Hanni asked, throwing her arms up while speaking. She seemed so annoyed that she even switched to English.

"Why should it bother me? I don't care what others think," I replied in English as well. However, Hanni still had her forehead furrowed, her breath audibly quickening, and she continued to snort, "I love you. I also know that you love me. I trust you with everything I have," I said with a smile on my face. Her hands now in mine as I gently ran my thumb over the back of her hand.

"So no, it doesn't bother me. Because you are mine, and I am yours. And I know that if that ever changes, you'll talk to me about it," I added, surprising Hanni a bit. Her mouth opened as she looked at me. Tears welled up in her eyes, "Of course, you idiot," she replied, which made me laugh a bit.

"Are you going to kiss me, or are you still mad at me?" I asked as I puckered my lips. Hanni snorted and let go of my hand. Almost immediately, her hand was on my neck, and her lips met mine, "Do you really love me?" she asked uncertainly.

I smiled and pulled her onto my lap. My arms around her waist, "With every breath I take, I fall more in love with you."

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With a smile on my face, I looked out onto the street. My hands on the steering wheel, one of them resting on my girlfriend's thigh. She was looking at her phone, playing music, and had the navigation on.

Hanni seemed to have calmed down after our conversation and stopped teasing me in some way. Apparently, she wanted to know if I had any weaknesses since, in her eyes, I was perfect.

"The next left," Hanni said, and I nodded my head. I activated the turn signal and moved onto the left lane. Almost immediately, I noticed the questioning look on my girlfriend's face as I turned right into the street. "Baby, left!" Hanni said louder now.

"But I am turning left," I replied, making Hanni tilt her head in confusion. I now had both hands on the steering wheel, forming an 'L' with both hands. My mouth opened, "Oops," I said, embarrassed, and started laughing. "Do you have a left-right weakness?" the younger one asked, visibly surprised.

"I'm working on it, okay?" I answered as I felt my cheeks slowly heating up. Honestly, it was quite embarrassing for me. Suddenly, Hanni burst into laughter, her grin getting wider and wider. Her hand now on my thigh, "I love you so much, Y/n," she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek. My heartbeat quickened.

"Finally, a weakness," Hanni murmured softly, which I found impossible to hear. I was too focused on the hand on my thigh, as much as on the road.

"The next left," Hanni said again, but this time, she also gestured with her arm in the direction she meant. This made me smile. She wasn't laughing at me... She was helping me...

#newjeans #newjeans hanni #hanni pham #hanni x reader

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nameless-ken · 2 months

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I LOVE YOUR WORK DONT FEEL PRESSURED TO DO THIS ITS JUST BEEN ROTTING IN MY BRAIN-Idk what the weather in your area is like- but I live in the Midwest and I imagine the first time Billy and reader are hanging out and the tornado sirens go off and he low key freaks out. Reader is unphased and standing on the porch calmly because reader is used to this and they are probably fine but Billy? He is scared shitless and confused why reader isn’t freaking out?! Billy would say “why are you standing on the porch!? Are you out of your fucking mind the sirens are going off we need to get downstairs! Oh my gosh this town is fucking crazy! Standing on the porch during storms” and maybe the roles are reversed when he eventually takes reader to California and she freaks out over an earth quake and he is unphased this time

I actually live in Indiana so I'm fully aware of that kind of weather (we actually had some tornados a couple weeks ago). Hope you like this, it was fun to write!

Check out my masterlist for more!

Weathering The Storm

You and Billy are hanging out on the steps at his place in Hawkins when suddenly the wail of tornado sirens pierces the air. You barely bat an eyelash, accustomed to the erratic weather patterns of this town. But Billy? He's practically jumping out of his skin.

"What the hell?" Billy's voice cracks with fear. "Why are you just standing there? We need to get down to the basement, now!"

You remain calm, unperturbed by the blaring sirens. "Relax, Billy," you say, your voice steady. "This happens all the time around here. We're fine on the porch. The wind is barely picking up.” You pass him the shared cigarette but he doesn’t take it.

Billy isn't convinced. He starts pacing back and forth, his eyes wide with panic. "This town is insane," he mutters under his breath. "Standing out here like nothing's wrong."

You watch as he frantically gestures towards the door, urging you to seek shelter. It's clear he's not used to the unpredictability of Hawkins.

You can feel the tension radiating off Billy as he paces, his agitation palpable. You take a drag from the cigarette, the cherry glowing faintly in the dim light. "Seriously, Billy," you try to reassure him, "it's not as bad as it sounds. We've been through worse storms than this."

But Billy's nerves are frayed, his gaze darting nervously towards the sky. "I don't care," he snaps, his voice edged with panic. "I'm not risking it. We need to get to a safe place."

You sigh, knowing there's no reasoning with him when he's like this. Reluctantly, you stub out the cigarette and follow him inside, the sound of the sirens still echoing in the distance.

As you descend into the basement, Billy's fear subsides slightly but are replaced by a tense sort of resolve. You find a corner to hunker down in, surrounded by shelves of old junk and dust-covered boxes.

The minutes tick by slowly, the only sound the distant rumble of thunder. Eventually, the sirens fall silent, signaling that the danger has passed. You glance over at Billy, who looks visibly relieved but still on edge.

"See?" you say, trying to lighten the mood. "Nothing to worry about."

But Billy doesn't respond, his gaze fixed on something in the corner of the room. You follow his line of sight and freeze as you see it—a small, makeshift shelter, stocked with supplies and blankets. It's clear that Billy's fear isn't just a result of the storm—it's something deeper, something rooted in his past.

You reach out a hand to comfort him, but he pulls away, his expression unreadable. And as the storm rages on outside, you can't help but wonder what other demons lurk beneath the surface of Hawkins—and within the heart of Billy Hargrove.

Fast forward to a year later. You find yourselves in California, and suddenly the ground beneath you begins to tremble. Panic sets in as you realize it's an earthquake. You grab onto Billy, your heart racing.

"Shit," you exclaim, your voice trembling. "What do we do?!"

But Billy remains surprisingly calm, his expression unchanged. "Relax," he says, steadying you with a reassuring hand. "It's just an earthquake. We're safe here."

You can't help but feel a pang of irony as the roles reverse. Now it's you who's freaking out while Billy remains unfazed, a stark contrast to the events back in Hawkins.

You cling to Billy's arm, your heart pounding in your chest as the ground continues to shake beneath you. Everything around you rattles and sways, and for a moment, you feel completely helpless.

"Are you sure?" you ask, your voice quivering. "What if it gets worse?"

But Billy's calm demeanor remains steadfast. He pulls you closer, wrapping his arm around you protectively. "Trust me," he says, his voice steady. "We'll be okay. Just stay close to me."

Reluctantly, you nod, trying to steady your breathing as the tremors gradually subside. As the initial panic begins to fade, you realize just how different this experience is from the storms back in Hawkins. There's a sense of inevitability to earthquakes, a reminder of the raw power of nature that no amount of preparation can fully mitigate.

Once the shaking finally stops, you release a shaky breath, feeling a mixture of relief and lingering unease. Billy pulls you into a tight embrace, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the chaos.

"Thanks," you murmur, grateful for his calm reassurance.

Billy gives you a small smile, his eyes soft with understanding. "Anytime," he says, his voice warm. "We'll always get through these things together." He pecks your lips affectionately.

And as you stand there, surrounded by the aftermath of the earthquake, you realize that while the roles may have reversed, your bond with Billy remains as steady as ever—a source of strength in the face of whatever challenges lie ahead.

#namelessken requests #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove imagines #billy hargrove blurb #billy hargrove stranger things #billy stranger things #stranger things billy hargrove #billy hargrove fluff

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talesofesther · 1 year

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souls tied, bound to burn | ch 1

Samantha Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Your move to New York came suddenly, in the hopes of getting closer to what was left of your family. What you weren't expecting was to fall for your sister's roommate, Sam; and little did you know, she'd be your doom, in the prettiest of ways.

A/N: I feel like this story is told in moments, but I do like how it turned out; it is, after all, a story that I poured my heart and soul into. This is one which took many of my sleepless nights, but it was so worth it bringing this idea to life. Cannot thank @iamnicodemus enough for basically being my beta reader and helping me with everything. There will be two more parts to this storyline, but I can't say when they will be posted, as I'm still writing them.

Word count: 10k (limit? never heard of her)

Masterlist

One thing that Sam was still trying to get used to after moving to New York was the lack of calmness.

She had just finished her session with yet another therapist, it was past 10 PM, and the streets were still as busy as ever. There was no shortage of cars or people passing by her as she walked back to her apartment. Sometimes it could be overwhelming and she couldn't get home fast enough. Sometimes it helped to keep her mind a little quieter.

Sam was still unsure of what it felt like today, maybe a mix of both.

Things haven't been easy after everything that happened in Woodsboro, every day the weight on her shoulders worsens and she has no idea how to even start dealing with it. It only became worse after the rumors started.

The steps up the stairs to her apartment felt like a whole workout, after working the entire day Sam was absolutely drained. The hunch on her posture and faint dark bags under her eyes said as much.

Nearing the door, she could hear faint voices coming from inside, one of them she didn't recognize. The tensing of her muscles was inevitable.

Sam turned the doorknob and slowly made her way inside, she closed the door behind her without turning around. There wasn't anything different about the place — TV turned on, cheap yellow lights in the kitchen illuminating the dirty dishes on the sink, low music coming from Tara's room — except Quinn was talking with someone on the couch.

Though Sam didn't know who it was, she already relaxed at the fact that there was no trouble in sight.

She ran a hand through her hair whilst walking to the kitchen, there were leftovers of dinner on two pans over the stove; but despite only having lunch on her stomach, she wasn't hungry. Picking up a clean cup, she filled it with water on the sink and gulped it down.

"Hey, Sam's home," Quinn announced with a chipper voice.

Sam closed her eyes with a sigh before managing a smile, she really didn't feel like socializing right now. But she turned to Quinn anyway.

The girl was perched over the back of the couch, waving Sam over, "come here, I want you to meet someone."

Involuntarily, Sam's eyes drifted to the one who sat beside Quinn; it was a girl she had never seen before, but the gentle smile on her lips made Sam hesitate in her steps. She did walk up to them though, making herself comfortable on the loveseat beside Quinn.

"Sam, this is Y/n, she's my sister," Quinn motioned to you with a grin.

"Sister?" Sam's eyes were huge as she looked between you and Quinn.

"Well, half-sister," Quinn concluded, "it's a long story."

You then gave them a tight-lipped smile, raising your hand in an awkward wave whilst looking at Sam, "it's uh- a pleasure to meet you."

There were several question marks twirling around in Sam's head, but the biggest one seemed to be why she found herself quite trapped in the way the images on the TV highlighted the lines of your jaw, cheeks, and lips. "I'm Samantha- Sam," she stumbled out quickly.

Quinn raised her eyebrows in amusement, a beat of silence passed before she tilted her head towards Sam, "yep, that's Samantha Sam."

The older Carpenter kicked herself internally about ten thousand times. That was awful.

A weird weight filled the air after that. Sam didn't know what to do with herself, she didn't know if she should stay or just go and lock herself in her room. She ended up settling for pretending to watch the TV while you spoke with Quinn. From what Sam heard, you had just arrived in town and were staying in a hotel until you could find an apartment, because apparently, your mother had left a significant amount of money in your name; she also overheard that you were yet to go visit your father.

When it was nearing midnight, you decided to leave, saying something about it already being too late.

Sam watched as Quinn walked you to the door and bid you goodbye with a brief hug. And before the door clicked close, your gaze caught Sam's and you gave her that same gentle smile she'd seen earlier; all the same, it froze her, and Sam saw herself just staring back at you with an emotion even she couldn't place.

Quinn dragged herself back to the living room then, laying down on the empty couch to wait for the inevitable interrogation.

"I didn't know you had a sister," Sam started eventually, mindlessly switching through channels. The room was dimly lit, with the only other lights coming from the kitchen, the brightness of the TV hurt her tired eyes.

"Neither did I."

At that, Sam's attention was fully on Quinn, her brows furrowed.

Quinn shook her head, dismissing the worry, "I mean, I knew, sort of," she explained, "she's from a fling my dad had before he met my mom, I think they broke up when she was born and her mom took her to Boston. Never met her until like, yesterday."

Now, the pieces from what Sam had heard were starting to come together. She wondered just how detached you were from this side of your family until now. "And your father never told you had a sister?"

"He did, in passing, sometimes I heard the calls he'd give her to check in. But she's always been distant," Quinn shrugged.

Sam mulled over the words in her mind, part of her couldn't help but feel wary, "why is she here?"

"Her mother died, she has no other family left."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

It didn't take long for Sam to bump into you again. It happened actually only two days after your visit to Quinn at their apartment.

It was a mildly calm afternoon at the coffee shop Sam worked at. At least for a Thursday, it felt calm. Just a few booths had people sitting on them, and every few minutes someone would stop by to grab a cup of coffee to go.

What the place lacked in fanciness it made up for in coziness — between her shifts here during the week and at the bowling alley on the weekends, it was easy for Sam to pick a favorite, nothing beats the vibe of a coffee shop — the place held warm tones to its decor, brick walls here and there with a few black boards hung up that had order choices written on them with white chalk; there was also a vintage radio on the corner that Sam always sneakily changed the songs of.

Against her own beliefs, she became rather good at preparing lattes and cappuccinos. She mentioned it to Tara once, and the girl said she'd believe it once she drinks it; Sam has been waiting for her to stop by.

Though as with everything, it wasn't perfect. Even before the rumors blaming her for the murders started, Sam was already an outsider, not quite allowed to fit in. She had no friends amongst the staff, only colleagues; and after the rumors, she even considered that to be a stretch.

Sam doesn't mind. She tells herself as much every day before walking in for work. But feeling judgemental eyes burning into your back at least once a day tends to take its toll on someone.

So she keeps to herself, she does her job, and she tries not to give them more reasons to bother her.

The small bell above the door dinged as someone came in, pulling Sam back to the present when she realized she would be the one taking the order.

She straightened her posture and smoothed down her uniform, looking around on the counter for her notepad and pen. Upon finding them, Sam finally glanced up and felt her breathing get momentarily stuck, the usual 'what can I get for you' dying on her tongue.

Part of Sam thinks she'd ironically recognize you anywhere. She realized you had that about you, something that felt unmistakable.

Same thing that happened to her apparently happened to you as well, as your lips hovered yet no words came out. It was that weird moment of I know you but I don't actually know you yet.

You were the first to talk, and Sam wanted to thank you for it. "Hey," you chuckled, somewhat awkwardly, "it's uh- Sam, right? It's nice to see you again."

Try as she might, Sam wasn't able to hold your gaze, she glanced down at her hands before looking at you again, "that's me," she gave you a small smile, "can I get you anything?"

"Yeah…" You dragged on, stuffing your hands on the pockets of your jeans as your gaze skimmed over the order options, "just a simple cappuccino to go, please." You eventually decided.

Sam felt your eyes on her as she scribbled your order down, even if it was just a cappuccino, she had the habit to write them all down. "Coming right up," she said, before turning around to make your order.

Ever since she started working here, she has probably made more than a hundred cappuccinos; yet she found herself checking things twice over. Espresso, steamed milk, foam. Everything carefully poured down on the cup.

You were standing right where she left you once she brought the order to you. That same gentle smile she saw two nights ago was present on your lips when you paid her and bid her goodbye.

Secretly, Sam wondered if you'd be back some other day.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

It was never your plan to come to New York, let alone on your own. But tragedy strikes when you least expect it.

When, on one of his monthly calls to check in on you, you broke the news to your father that your mother had passed, he told you you should come live closer to him if you wanted to. And honestly, not feeling so alone in the world felt appealing.

So you packed everything you had of value, and took the leap. You had your mother to thank for being able to simply do that out of nowhere, she'd left everything of hers in your name, including her company's income.

But money hardly solves all problems, because you never actually met your father's side of the family. All you had were his phone calls, where he would sometimes briefly mention a sister you'd get along with if you were to meet, and not much else.

Upon knowing you'd be coming to the city, he gave you Quinn's contact, promising she would help you find a place to stay. You weren't exactly keen on meeting your sister for the first time all by yourself, but Quinn had been surprisingly easygoing; telling you all about how cool it was to have a sister instead of another brother. And the question 'I have a brother too?' lingered on your tongue, but you thought it would be a weird thing to ask. That was a few days ago, and you settled in a hotel for the time being.

In any way, you had a lot of catching up to do.

And now, anxiety was bubbling relentlessly in your stomach and you clutched tightly at the straps of your backpack. The police station was kinda busy at this time of day, but it was exactly the time he asked you to come in, so you did.

You didn't know exactly what to feel other than anxiety. How is one supposed to feel when they're about to see their father for the first time in their life?

It's a weird situation, though you couldn't really blame your mother for it; yes she took you away shortly after you were born, but from what she told you, she and your father didn't end on the best of terms. From the moment you were born, she'd been protective.

You reached the front desk, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. "Hello," you greeted the woman there.

She glanced up from the pile of papers she'd been sorting out, "hi there, what can I do for you?"

"Um- Detective Bailey asked me to stop by," you explained, and the woman in front of you raised an unamused eyebrow. Even before saying it, the words already felt somewhat strange in your mouth, "he's my father."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Your first two weeks in New York were hectic. Meeting a whole new side of your family was a strange experience, but you'd say it went well. Quinn was the easiest of all, she treated you as if you were one of her friends from university and you appreciated it. Ethan was distant, he was kind and polite, but you could tell he didn't want much to do with you. Your father was, essentially, what you expected him to be; he was kind and attentive, obviously a little awkward just as you were, but he seemed to genuinely care about you; as much as one can care about a daughter they'd never met.

Quinn had been quite insistent on having a sister bonding time with you, so you'd find yourself at her apartment more often than not. This led to you being acquainted with Mindy, Anika, and Chad, who were around just as much as you; plus Sam and Tara, of course.

The youngest of Quinn's roommates took an instant liking to you. Your personality matched Tara's quite well, you were happy to hear every gossip she liked the share about her colleagues at the university and the usual rant about her sister.

Sam, she was not an easy one to read; at first, you thought she might not even like you, but Tara explained that 'that's just how she is, she'll warm up to you eventually'.

Maybe that was part of the reason why you found yourself creating a habit of stopping by a certain coffee shop — after all, they served delicious food and drinks and the place was really cozy; the doe-eyed brunette who worked there was a bonus.

You'd usually stop by later on in the afternoon, when the sunlight had that deep golden glow just an hour or so before disappearing behind the horizon. It was a time of day the coffee shop was a little more crowded, but not as much as it was in the mornings.

Every time you walked in, you found yourself involuntarily looking for Sam; deep down feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush because of the butterflies that invaded your stomach whenever she remembered your order.

You quickly realized the importance of details with Sam. The more you came to eat at the coffee shop, the slightly more comfortable she became with you. It started with her serious expression changing to a small smile whenever she saw you, then she started greeting you by your name, and recently, she has been drawing little smiley faces on your cup.

The usual booth you'd sit at was tucked in a more reserved corner, just beside one of the windows; you liked the privacy. Each time that Sam brought your cappuccino and apple pie, you held yourself back from asking if she could sit down and have a coffee with you.

Maybe tomorrow, you'd think to yourself.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

The smell of freshly made lasagna filled the whole apartment. If you had a good enough sense of smell, you'd be able to tell it was just the slightest bit burned, but no one seemed to care.

Mindy and Chad could be heard bickering about how to properly take said lasagna out of the oven without causing a disaster, Tara was opening up a cheap wine bottle while Anika set the dining table, and Quinn was switching through channels on the TV.

It was a pleasant sight for someone who wasn't used to many of those.

Sam had just gotten out of the shower, towel in her hands as she finished drying off her hair. She had managed to get out of work earlier today and ditched therapy so she could have dinner with her found family — which honestly felt more like therapy than actual therapy.

A chuckle escaped Sam's lips when Mindy called her brother a moron with a halfhearted slap on the back of his head.

And then, three soft knocks came from the front door.

"I got it," Sam told them, hanging her towel over her shoulder as she got over to the door and steadily undid all the locks in it. She knew who it was, Quinn warned you'd be coming for dinner today too. Sam felt a little childish when anticipation started twirling in her stomach.

Selfishly, Sam wanted to think that this specific smile of yours belonged to her.

"Hi," she greeted you with the same softness you stared back at her with; for the second time today, the first being at the coffee shop. Sam figured she wouldn't mind seeing you more often, "come in, dinner is almost ready."

"Hey Sam," you smiled timidly as you walked past her and inside the apartment.

Sam has known you for a little over two weeks, and there should be alarms blaring inside her head for the way she felt so naturally drawn to you. But there wasn't, there was only the softness of your presence and the way she wanted to drown in it.

"Hey new girl," Mindy called, her voice ringing loudly through the room as she peeked over from the kitchen with a grin, "you like lasagna?"

"Of course," you grinned, taking off your jacket and failing to see the way Sam's gaze lingered a little too long on you, "who doesn't like lasagna?"

Mindy pointed a finger at you, "right answer," she quipped before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Sam awkwardly cleared her throat next to you, "let me take this for you."

You glanced beside you to see the girl subtly gesturing for your jacket, unsure if the redness of her cheeks was a trick of the light or not. "Oh, thanks, Sam."

"Alright y'all, dinner's on the table," Mindy announced, getting everyone to flock to the dining room.

It was maybe after the second or third time you'd stopped by that you had unconsciously assigned a seat for yourself at their table. Ironically, it was the one beside Sam.

If you were being honest with yourself, you had a lot to thank this peculiar group of friends; if it wasn't for all the laughs they managed to pull out of you at each dinner, maybe settling in on the new city wouldn't have gone so smoothly. They sure took away the feeling of loneliness that had been steadily collecting in your chest ever since your mother passed.

And you had found a reason to like every single one of them; Mindy was naturally funny and made you feel as welcome as if you'd known her your whole life, and so did Anika; Chad was the exact opposite of what you'd picture him to be, sharing his sister's tendency for kindness; Sam was… you couldn't find a word to describe her quite yet, maybe entrancing could work; and Tara, well, you'd just found out tonight she shared your penchant for horror movies.

That's how, after dinner, you found yourself laying with Tara on her bed as you watched a movie of her choosing.

"You know, I'm glad you decided to come to New York," Tara told you out of the blue, the sound coming from her TV almost covering her voice.

Her room was dimly lit, the only source of light being the TV itself and a small lamp on her desk, you could barely make out her features. "I am too, I'm sure glad I met you guys."

Tara chuckled fondly at that, "Sam seems to like you," she told you quietly, her voice sounding as if she was letting you in on a pretty secret, "she could use a friend, you know."

You caught the hidden words in her soft tone. You weren't blind to how lonely Sam tended to be sometimes. Isolating herself even in a room full of people who cared about her.

Though it stunned you for a brief moment that Tara was asking that of you, you wondered if she saw something you didn't. At this point, you already knew of their story, at least partially; from articles online about the Woodsboro killings, and consequently, from the rumors circling around about Sam. Needless to say, your heart broke for them.

"I'd be happy to be her friend, if she'd have me," you meant it.

The movie extended longer than you predicted and Tara was already dozing off on your shoulder by the time the credits rolled. So you carefully turned off her TV and sneaked yourself out of her bed, your steps as light as a feather touching the floor.

You closed the door to her room with extreme delicacy and only as you turned around, did you notice the absolute darkness of the rest of the apartment.

It looked like everyone had already called it a night.

The only thing illuminating your steps was the soft orange glow coming in through the windows from the street lamps outside. The apartment held an eery silence to it, the clean plates and cutlery you all had used earlier rested on top of the table, there was an occasional sound of water droplets falling from the kitchen sink, and the red numbers of the clock on the coffee table read 12:37 AM.

The darkness and silence were a striking contrast to the commotion from earlier.

You opted for turning on the lights in the kitchen so you could look for your jacket and go home for the night; though after a good five minutes of unsuccessful searching you were almost considering leaving without it. That's when a soft, barely there whimper caught your ears.

It got a cold shiver running up and down your back, momentarily making you imagine yourself in a horror movie.

Until your eyes landed on the bigger couch of the living room and you saw Sam; she was curled up there, fast asleep with her hands under her head and knees tucked up to her chest, looking much smaller than she actually was, just barely being highlighted by the kitchen light.

You couldn't help the swelling of your heart. She was undeniably endearing.

There was the sound of a siren passing by in the distance. You looked out the window by instinct, but you couldn't see where exactly it came from.

When your eyes settled back on Sam, you found her clutching at the cushions under her head, a frown etched unpleasantly on her eyebrows. Her hair was messy, you realized; maybe from tossing and turning too much.

You were genuinely not sure what got into you, it's not like you have enough intimacy to even be seeing her like this. But you crouched down in front of her, one hand coming to rest gently on her shoulder.

Before you could even fully touch her, Sam was already stirring awake. Her body was visibly tense and her eyes a tad too wide and alert for someone who just woke up.

"I'm… sorry," you said quietly, feeling embarrassment crawling up your neck and to your cheeks, "sorry I woke you up."

Sam held herself up with her elbow, her free hand running through her messy hair. She wasn't looking at you, attempting to regulate her unsteady breathing.

You could see it from the way her chest moved up and down quickly. And there you followed a single drop of sweat running down from her neck to her collarbone. The night was far too cold for her to be sweating.

You wanted to reach out, but didn't. "I was just wondering where you put my jacket," you continued when she remained quiet.

Sam felt bare in front of you, somewhat timid. There were goosebumps rising on her skin. She nearly didn't find her voice, "I'll go get it for you."

You waited for her by the front door, shifting on your feet. She came back with your jacket in her hands, clutching tightly onto it so you wouldn't catch the shaking of her fingers. But you did, you also caught onto the hollowness of her eyes and the hair clinging to her damp forehead. You knew it wasn't your place to ask, but Sam looked so alone in the darkness of the apartment, that you feared she might let herself be swallowed by it the moment you leave.

"Are you okay?"

Sam's expression did something complicated, unsure of how to feel. Several beats passed in silence, as if she was considering how to answer you. Eventually, she nodded softly, "I'm alright, just tired from work."

It was a half-truth. You had been there today when a group of teenagers came into the coffee shop, one of them casting accusatory glances at Sam as he whispered — quite loudly — the word 'murderer' to his friends. You weren't able to wave her goodbye after that. She stayed hidden in the back.

Maybe your heart felt something it wasn't telling you yet, because it was hurting, for her. "For what it's worth," the words rolled off your tongue in a soft whisper, "I don't believe them."

Sam's lips parted, her mouth going dry and her doe eyes glinting with a sudden vulnerability. The grip she had around your jacket tightened.

Your smile was bittersweet this time, "the rumors, I don't believe them."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

"I don't think I see you," you spoke on the phone, squinting at the evening sun shining on your eyes as you walked the busy streets of New York.

Last night your father had called you just before he left the police station, asking if maybe you would like to have an afternoon snack with him today; stop by at a popular bakery to catch up on lost time.

You felt an unfamiliar warmth on your chest at the request, agreeing promptly. He was trying to form a connection with you, and honestly, it was something you wanted too. You already lost one parent, you didn't fancy losing the other.

"I see you."

He spoke over the phone.

"Look to your right."

You followed his instructions and sure enough, he was on the other side of the street, his arms up and obnoxiously waving you over so you'd see him.

A chuckle escaped you as you hurriedly crossed the street, tucking your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. You smiled tentatively then, slowly closing the distance between you and him without knowing if you should lean in for a hug or extend your hand for a shake.

Bailey decided for you, he was opening his arms before you even reached him.

The hug was brief but welcomed. He kept one hand on your shoulder when he pulled away, seemingly taking a good look at you as a sincere smile appeared on his expression; "thank you for coming, I know we've never been too close, but I would like us to be."

You reached up to the hand he still had on your shoulder and squeezed his wrist in reassurance, "I would like it too."

That was enough to cut through the awkward bits of tension still lingering between you. Part of you felt like you were fifteen again, giddy for having your father dedicate a whole afternoon for you and you only.

It didn't make the pain of losing your mother go away, but it engulfed it into something more bearable. Something you could get used to.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

It was about an hour after lunch that Sam received a rather urgent call from Tara. The only words she managed to focus on were "asthma attack" and "inhaler at the apartment."

The problem? Sam was basically on the other side of town.

Her first option was Mindy, but the girl wasn't picking up her phone. And then neither was Chad. Her last resort was calling her own apartment in the hopes that Quinn was home and could drive to the university with Tara's inhaler.

The line ringed, and ringed, and ringed. Until…

"Hello?"

The thought about why she recognized your voice so easily flew by. "Y/n?" Sam stopped in her tracks, forcing the other people on the sidewalk to walk around her.

"Sam?"

"What are you-"

"No, I didn't break into your apartment."

Sam heard your chuckle from the other end of the line.

"I stopped by to bring something to Quinn."

"Y/n, I need you to-" Sam took in a deep breath, running a hand through her hair and gripping at the roots of it. She closed her eyes tightly, "Tara is having an asthma attack and she left her inhaler at the apartment, could you ask Quinn to-"

"Sam, calm down."

Your soft voice made Sam realize she was having trouble breathing.

"Breathe, okay? I'll take it to her, I'm less than five minutes away by bike, I'll let you know when I get there."

Sam bit at the inside of her cheek, nodding even though you couldn't see it, "thank you."

Only mere minutes passed by — though they felt much longer than usual — until Sam received a text from you, it read 'hey' and she could see you were still typing.

Sam held onto her breath and only released it once you sent her the next text, which read 'all is good'. Instant relief washed over her and she leaned back on the wall of the random store she was standing in front of.

Her cellphone vibrated again, and this time it was a picture of you and Tara making silly faces while you held her close.

The smile that came to Sam's lips was as big as ever, her heart beating painfully against her ribs as if it was trying to leap from her chest and into the screen of her phone; all so it could reach you.

Sam typed back; 'I owe you one.'

She held back on sending a heart emoji.

It was becoming increasingly harder to deny the way she started feeling about you; how you seemingly occupied a place in her heart no one else could have; or how she hoped to see you walk into the coffee shop every day, because, on the off chance you didn't, something felt out of place, missing.

Maybe it was time for her to do something about it.

And the opportunity presented itself on the very next day.

It was a cloudy Tuesday afternoon, the coffee shop lacking its usual golden rays that came through the window at this time of day. There was a slightly colder breeze in the air, it came through each time a new customer opened the door and it forced Sam to wear her jacket on top of her uniform.

Sam had been anticipating your arrival ever since the clock hit 4 PM, which was the time you usually stopped by. She couldn't help looking up at the door each time she heard the bell above it.

It scared her, to take a chance like this. Trusting people with your heart only opens room for them to break it. She knows it.

But oh you made her want to turn a blind eye to every single risk, and fear, and doubt.

Sam wondered, for a moment, if destiny was playing with her. Because when the clock hit 4:47 PM you walked through the coffee shop's doors and the sky just so happened to have a crack in its clouds, casting a faded glow that bathed you aureate for a moment.

Sam's eyes were unfocused, caught in a daze that was only broken when you were already standing in front of her.

"Good afternoon, Sam," you smiled, your cheeks flushed from the cold wind outside.

"Hi," Sam stumbled out, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she cleared her throat, "the usual?"

"Please," you confirmed, already reaching inside your backpack for your wallet, but Sam's hand on your forearm stopped you.

The touch of her skin on yours felt electric. Sam pulled her hand back quickly, timidly curling her fingers to try and keep the feeling of you a little longer. "This one is on me," her voice wasn't nearly as confident as it needed to be for that line.

You were about to open your mouth to protest, but she beat you to it; "please, let me do this. As a thank you for you helping Tara yesterday."

A sly smile crept into your lips, your eyes roaming over Sam up and down before you spoke; "only if you drink something with me."

Your boldness surprised Sam, in the best of ways. She was burning up inside, her heart working overtime to keep up with her feelings. Despite the cold, she felt suddenly warm.

"I have a break in ten."

When Sam brought your order to your table — the usual table in the far right corner near the biggest window — she sat down in front of you. She carefully placed down your cappuccino and apple pie before closing both her hands around the simple cup of coffee she had for herself.

You took your time with taking a sip from your drink, closing your eyes when the slightly sweet, warm beverage hit your tongue.

Sam followed each movement, from the way your fingers closed around the mug to the way the corner of your lips lifted just the smallest bit after tasting the coffee she made — for a moment you were all she could see. Though she shook herself off of it pretty quickly, realizing how it might be creepy. Sam took a generous drink of her coffee as well.

"Do you like it?" Came the sudden sweetness of your voice, "working at a coffee shop?"

A faint smell of burnt bread reached Sam's nose, it was probably Enrique forgetting about the oven again. She could hear loud chatter happening at the entrance of the coffee shop, it was probably the five students who usually stopped by at this time of day. Sam was hesitating. Between apartment visits because of Quinn and everyday meet-ups for her to make you coffee, Sam didn't plan for herself coming this far with you.

"Could be worse," were the words that eventually escaped her mouth, "beats the bowling alley."

You chuckled, a lovely sound as you sheepishly glanced down, your thumb tracing the edge of your mug. Sam wanted to pull her cell phone out and trap this moment in time; it felt precious enough to do so.

"I definitely prefer coming to coffee shops instead of bowling alleys," you smirked.

Sam somewhat mimicked your smile, "are you liking New York?"

You hummed, choosing to take a bite of your pie before answering, "all things considered, I am. It's a lot of getting used to," you had a faraway gaze out the window then, leaning your chin on your hand, "meeting a whole new side of my family is… strange. But we're getting along surprisingly well, I've been going out with my father at least once a week, Ethan is more distant but still nice whenever we meet, and, well, I've been visiting Quinn quite regularly, as you know."

Sam took in each of your words, softly nodding along, "it's good one of us is feeling at home, sort of." She gulped, mulling over her next words, "you know you're welcome at the apartment whenever. Tara adores you… everyone does."

If you caught Sam's 'I adore you' you didn't comment on it. Instead, you asked; "how are you settling in? Tara mentioned you guys moved in only a few weeks before I did."

That had Sam holding back a sigh. She leaned back on her side of the booth, "feels like all the shit that happened in Woodsboro followed us all the way here."

Some days were better than others. Some days the weight on her shoulders felt more bearable and the people around her weren't as menacing with their baseless accusations. Some days were worse.

"I'm sorry about everything that's been going on the internet about you," you said.

Sam met your eyes and found there a gentleness no one had ever looked at her with.

"You don't deserve it, Sam."

Being with you was as easy as breathing. For a fleeting moment inside the walls of the coffee shop, there were no rumors crucifying Sam for something she didn't do; there were no bad memories taking her sleep at night; there were no permanent scars marking her skin — there was only Samantha, the girl who had almost forgotten what it felt like to just worry about which words to say next to impress the girl she developed feelings for.

And if she went to bed that night with the ghost of a smile on her lips because you kissed her cheek goodbye earlier, that was nobody's business but hers.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

"Guys, what do you say we order pizza for tonight?" Sam threw the idea into the night.

It was nearing 7 PM and it was a Saturday, meaning it was the unofficial girl's night of the week. Sam, Mindy, Anika, Tara, and Quinn sat together in the living room of Sam's apartment watching a random action movie. Dinner time was nearing and none of them really fancied cooking tonight.

"I think it's a good idea," Mindy agreed, leaning back on the couch and pulling Anika with her, "do you think one is enough for the five of us?"

"Six," Sam spoke without looking up from her phone, already searching for the pizza place's number, "I invited Y/n over."

Save for the movie playing in the background, there was a sudden silence in the living room. It stretched on until Sam found the number and looked up to see everyone staring at her.

A frown slowly came to her eyebrows and she chuckled awkwardly, fidgeting with her phone, "what?"

"You invited her?" Quinn started.

"You two have been growing quite close," Mindy added, an all-too-knowing grin on her lips.

Tara had her lips hung open, being the last one to catch up on her sister's painfully obvious crush.

"We're… friends, she's nice," Sam shrugged, feeling herself grow self-conscious with the attention and involuntarily curling in on herself a little. She got up from the couch then, deciding to go make the call to order the pizza outside in the hallway as she figured she wouldn't have much peace inside right now.

She put on her house slippers and walked to the front door, hearing Mindy shout; "I've heard that before," right as she closed the door behind her.

Sam found herself slowly roaming to the lobby as she spoke on the phone, a cold air came from the entrance doors of her apartment building as she spoke on the phone, making her hug herself to preserve the warmth.

The pizza would be arriving in about thirty minutes, and just before Sam turned around to walk back inside to the coziness of her apartment, her cell phone dinged with a message from you letting her know you were here.

Sam saw herself smiling at the screen of her phone, at the small heart emoji you added beside the text.

The main doors of the entrance hall hinged as you walked in, and the first thing Sam noticed was that you were quite underdressed for the weather outside; only a thin jacket kept your body warm, your hair was all tousled from the wind and you had your hands buried in the pockets of your sweatpants. Still, you smiled brightly when you spotted Sam coming towards you.

"Aren't you cold?" Sam chuckled as she met you in the middle, coming to a stop a little closer to you than she should. Her eyes involuntarily roamed up and down your body, always engraving the image of you in her mind as if it was the first and last time she'd be seeing you; even if she has known you for nearly two months now.

"You bet I'm cold," without much of a warning, you brought one hand up and cupped Sam's cheek; the coldness of your skin contrasted with the warmth of hers.

Sam shivered from head to toe, and it wasn't because of the coldness of your fingers, for she could feel her cheeks warming up even more.

Unable to hold your gaze as she did so, Sam took hold of your freezing hand, "come on, let's get you warmed up. I ordered pizza."

You followed her willingly, nuzzling against her shoulder as you walked.

You're both not sure when this newfound intimacy happened. But you weren't complaining. Your heart was so full of Sam that you could hardly call it your own anymore. And Sam doesn't know what happiness means if it isn't written with the letters of your name.

Though it wasn't until a whole week later, that you did something about it.

This Friday was a rainy one, the skies had grey clouds looming over everyone on the streets as heavy raindrops fell steadily. Water splashed around people's shoes as they walked, holding their coats close to their bodies and their umbrellas above their heads.

Sam didn't have an umbrella. She'd given hers to Tara this morning because technically she wouldn't need it, she'd catch a ride with one of the nicer coworkers at the coffee shop when it was time to leave.

Sam was walking in the rain.

She never made it to 7 PM, which was usually the time she'd get off work. Her boss had dismissed her much earlier today; 'it doesn't look good to have a barista covered in coffee' was what he'd said.

Now, the huge coffee stain on her shirt was barely there, being replaced by the water falling from the sky. The pouring rain had already soaked through Sam's clothing; it trickled down her chin and made her hair stuck to her forehead. It was cold, she was shaking, and her fingers were becoming numb.

Today had been one of those unfortunate days. It was a group of teenagers, Sam can't exactly remember what they looked like; she had been the one to bring their orders to the table, and when their eyes met hers she could instantly see the hatred there. Various false accusations left their lips as one of them 'accidentally' spilled their coffee all over Sam. Today wasn't a good day.

Sam didn't know where she was going to, she was almost sure she was walking in the complete opposite direction of her apartment. She didn't stop, keeping her head low in hopes the rain would completely engulf her being.

"Sam?" The call of her name sounded like a hallucination at first. Too sweet, and too far away to be real.

"Sam!" Now it was closer, clearer between the heavy raindrops hitting the pavement.

It made Sam look up, one hand brushing over her eyes to clean the rain stuck to her lashes. Instantly, she forgot how to breathe.

You were coming towards her, one hand holding your coat and the other holding a faded pink umbrella above your head. You looked distressed, there was a frown on your eyebrows that Sam wanted to smooth away with her fingers.

Between the smell of coffee on her shirt and the rain on her skin, Sam had forgotten this was the time you usually came to the coffee shop.

Sam was suddenly shielded from the falling rain. You had to stay close so your umbrella would cover both of you. "Sam…" Your tone was sorrowful as your evident worry escaped you, "what are you doing out here like this? What happened?" You looked her up and down, taking in her purplish fingertips, her soaked clothes and hair, and the barely there coffee stain of her shirt.

The image of you in front of Sam started to blur over; she opened her lips to speak, tasting the raindrops there, yet the words were clogged up on the lump in her throat. A feeling of shame was crawling inside her guts, piercing through her heart for having you see her like this. Sam avoided your eyes, focusing on her boots instead.

Your sneakers inched closer and Sam felt your gentle fingers pushing away strands of her wet hair; the softness of your touch amidst all the harshness she was used to nearly made her crumble.

"Did someone do this to you?" You asked even softer.

Another beat of silence, and then; "I don't know why they hate me so much." Was all Sam told you, her voice nothing but a whisper that broke in the middle.

In the same heartbeat, with the hand that wasn't holding your umbrella, you took hold of Sam's waist, pulling her body close to yours in a warm embrace.

Sam clung to you as if you'd vanish into thin air any minute. Both her arms instantly came around your shoulders in a close-knit grip as she bunched the fabric of your coat between her fingers.

You adjusted your hold around her waist, mimicking the same strength she held you with. Part of you knew she needed to feel that kind of reassuring pressure, shielding her away from reality.

Her body was worryingly cold, the wetness of her clothes was seeping into your own but you couldn't find it in yourself to mind. Because Sam buried her head into the crook of your neck and you could feel steady wet drops falling into your skin, and you knew they weren't from the rain.

Sam's sobs were muffled against you. And as her body trembled in your hold, your heart shattered.

"Let me take you home," you whispered, your lips brushing the skin of her shoulder until you placed a kiss there.

Sam's grip on you tightened, bringing your bodies closer together if that was even possible. "Okay."

And you did take her home. Sam only didn't imagine that when you said home, you meant your apartment, not hers.

To say your place was better than Sam's would be an understatement. Your apartment wasn't overly luxurious, but it was evident that it was expensive.

Admittedly, Sam felt out of place. Not necessarily in a bad way; only in the way that you were clearly much better off in life than she was, and it made her feel a little self-conscious to think she'd been fantasizing about a chance with you, when, admittedly, you could do better.

You let go of your umbrella but kept holding onto Sam's hand, leading her to your bedroom, "come on, let's get you some dry clothes."

Your bedroom was the most 'you' room in the house. There was a double bed in the middle, a dresser, a desk with a computer and a whole lot of other things on top — books, a collection of pens, a couple of sketchbooks, small fantasy figures such as soldiers on horses and dragons — a mirror just beside the dresser, a bookshelf, and several pictures and fairy lights stuck to the walls. Everywhere Sam looked, there was a bit of you.

She hovered in the middle of it all, shaking from head to toe because of how cold her body was, and hyper-aware of the water still dripping from her soaked clothes and into the wooden floor.

You rummaged through your dresser until you found a comfy pair of purple sweatpants and a hoodie of the same color. You handed them to Sam, "the bathroom is just down the hall, feel free to take a shower and warm yourself up okay? I'll be in the kitchen."

Sam gulped down the lump still stuck in her throat, nodding along with your words, "thank you, you didn't have to do all this," her voice still held that same rawness to it, though the corner of her lips quirked up.

You let out a breathy chuckle, tilting your head to the side as if she just spoke a foreign language. "Yeah I did, that's what people do when they care about each other."

Under the warm orange glow of the fairy lights of your bedroom, Sam could count the specks of color in your eyes. She could drown in the ocean that was you and everything you made her feel.

Sometimes, you look at each other as if you're about to kiss.

Sam wondered if it was the same for you when she caught your eyes drifting to her lips. Before she could figure it out, you were sheepishly avoiding her eyes and walking off to the kitchen.

When Sam walked out of the bathroom, her skin now warm and her hair with the smell of your shampoo, you had just finished making two mugs of hot chocolate.

You heard her bare feet approaching you, felt her lingering gaze on your back. You could tell Sam wasn't allowing herself to be completely comfortable here yet. You hoped to change that.

Turning around, you were met with the endearing sight of Sam in your clothes, her hair still damp and cheeks now flushed from the hot water of the shower. She looked like your favorite dream.

You walked up to her, handing her one of the mugs, "now it's my turn to serve you," you winked.

Sam closed both hands around the mug, an inevitable chuckle escaping her.

You leaned back on the counter of your kitchen, hearing the rain that still poured outside hitting the windows. "Feeling better?"

Before answering, Sam took a sip of her hot chocolate, humming at the sweetness and warmth of it. "Much better."

"You can stay as long as you'd like," you told her, because you knew she needed to hear it.

Sam's thumb traced the rim of her mug. You could see her lips pulling thin, feel her uneasiness.

"I would like you to stay, Sam."

Thunder started rumbling in the distance as the rain picked up even more. Sam would be stuck with you for a while; maybe you should make the most of having her all to yourself.

You put down your mug and pushed yourself away from the kitchen counter. Sam could be fragile sometimes, you realized; there was a part of her that always remained guarded, waiting for the next blow to come. Yet you could almost feel the desperate calls of her lonely heart.

When you took a step closer to her, Sam didn't take one away from you, and it was all the confirmation you needed. She had a white-knuckled grip on her mug, though it relaxed immediately when your hand enveloped hers and you took the mug, putting it aside on the counter.

Sam was holding herself as stiff as a corpse; if you were anyone else, she would have taken her chance already, but you were you, and the fear that she might fuck it up spoke louder. Her eyes followed each of your movements though, her pupils blown wide and reflecting the vulnerability of a heart that started beating for you, for you, for you.

Both your hands eventually reached up to her cheeks, your fingers tracing her jaw and your thumbs brushing the skin beneath her eyes.

Inevitably, Sam melted in your hold, a breath leaving her lips as she closed her eyes for a beat. No one ever held her as if she was something precious. You always did.

First, your lips met her forehead in a kiss that felt like a promise. Then, your nose brushed hers when you leaned in; your breaths mingling as your hands found the back of her neck to pull her in.

You were gentle, so much so that Sam hardly felt your lips. You guided her into a chaste kiss, just a touch of your soft lips that fitted perfectly with hers. So perfectly, she'd dare say you were made just for her.

Small as it was, the gesture of affection got Sam grasping at your waist; her hands holding onto you with the same desperation as before. As if happiness, for her, was limited.

Sam didn't dare open her eyes when you pulled back. It was foolish, but she wanted to utter those three words just for the fact that you didn't go far, choosing to keep your forehead leaning against hers.

"Are you sure?" The words stumbled out of Sam's lips in an unsteady whisper as she took to memory what it felt like to have you this close.

You pulled away and she felt like crying.

It was only enough so you could look into her eyes, and there you saw everything she didn't want you to see. In those dark doe eyes that shone with the dim lights of your kitchen; you saw her fear, her loneliness; you saw the way she thought of herself as a person who doesn't deserve to be taken out of the rain, but who longs for someone to do so anyway.

"More than I've ever been in my life," you whispered back, pulling her in before you even finished speaking. You clashed your lips together, not holding back this time, because if she didn't believe your words, she would believe your touch; she would believe the way your hands tangled in her hair and how your tongue brushed over her bottom lip, tasting the lingering sweetness of hot chocolate there.

Yet, between each breathless kiss, you'd mumble, "I promise."

And Sam would hold you more firmly, her arms encircling your waist as she traced a path down your neck with her lips, confessions rolling off her tongue.

You had her at your mercy; she was yours. But you were hers too.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

It's been fifteen minutes already. Fifteen minutes of Sam glaring at her phone as if it would relent and type the message for her.

"Sammy, this is getting sad," Mindy popped a popcorn in her mouth, side-eyeing Sam's figure; who was huddled in a blanket on the couch beside hers, "just ask her already."

"Yeah, I will," Sam groaned, hugging her blanket closer to her chest, "just… finding the right words."

"The words are: 'do you want to go on a date with me? Yes or no?' Simple." A popcorn flew in Sam's direction as Mindy explained, "stop making a big deal of it, it's not like you guys never went out together anyway."

Sam pursed her lips, staring at the little picture of you in her contacts. It's true, you've met for outings multiple times already; but there was something more now, an incessant swarm of butterflies in her stomach whenever Sam thought of you.

"It's different," she said quietly, "I don't wanna mess it up." Her vulnerability dripped from each syllable.

Mindy softened at that, forgetting about the movie playing on the TV and properly turning to look at her friend; "you won't mess it up, Sam. She likes you, everyone can see it."

It felt nice to hear the words out loud, it made them all the more real — as if your make-out session from a few days ago wasn't enough. Sam could feel her cheeks growing warmer by the minute as she finally typed her message and hit send before the small bit of courage went away.

Mindy had been right, after all.

That night, Sam took you out for dinner and a movie; classic, but she learned that you loved the classics. Especially when you pressed your lips to hers again before saying goodbye, in a kiss that Sam would be happy to live in forever.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

The stairs that led up to her apartment weren't the most comfortable seat, but the empty hallways provided much-needed peace.

Sam buried her head in her hands, clawing at the roots of her hair. Her shirt was still damp, the smell becoming annoying. She could feel the back of her eyes stinging but she gulped back the feeling.

"You know you don't always have to wait for me down here."

It was almost magical, how your voice sent a wave of easiness through Sam's body. It was almost as if you carefully reached inside her chest and took away the burden there.

You were walking up to her, a smirk on your lips and a backpack hanging from your shoulder, "I know the way to your apartment."

Sam mimicked your smile, getting up with more haste than usual and meeting you halfway in the empty hallway. She didn't give you much of a warning before bringing you into a searing kiss, her hands cupped your cheeks and she had your bottom lip trapped between hers; chasing the feeling only you could give her.

A gasp escaped you when she collided with you. Your giggles got muffled by her lips and you took hold of her waist to steady yourself.

It's been four months since Sam started calling you hers. Four months since she's been able to gloat because you're her girlfriend. Four months in which she's been the happiest she's ever been in her life.

"I missed you," she spoke against your lips.

You kissed the words, frowning playfully, "you saw me this afternoon."

"Exactly," Sam's smile stretched further, "too long," and then she was leaning in again, and again, and again.

Sam could be intense sometimes, but you knew how to recognize when she was doing it for fun, or to forget about something else.

You took hold of one of her hands then, breaking the kiss she had you trapped in so you could place one to her knuckles, "is that cherry coke I smell on you?"

"Maybe," she dragged the word, her fingers intertwining with yours.

"Are you making a habit of having people throw drinks at you?" You raised an eyebrow at her before squeezing her hand reassuringly, "what happened?"

Sam let out a halfhearted groan, shrugging her shoulders as she avoided your eyes, "just some conspiracy psychos… and Tara is pissed at me."

"Did you guys have another fight?" You asked sympathetically.

"She was at this party and I tased a guy who was trying to take advantage of her, and now she's mad at me," Sam distracted herself by playing with your fingers as she spoke, "keeps telling me I should let her go."

In your four months with Sam, you learned how protective she could be of those she cares about, especially after what happened in Woodsboro. You learned that because you were now on that list too. You'd lost count of how many guys she threatened because of you already, each time you went out for drinks together and a strange dude decided to try his luck with you Sam would pull out her taser and aim it right where it hurts most.

In truth, you understood both sides. Yes, Sam could be overprotective sometimes; but she had her reasons.

"Family can be complicated, I would know," you pushed back strands of Sam's dark hair, never having enough of how she leaned into your touch, "but Tara will come around soon."

You felt the shape of Sam's smile on your palm right before she placed a kiss there. Part of you lived only for these sweet, precious moments.

"Hey guys," Chad's voice suddenly broke your peaceful bubble. You and Sam looked up to see him on the stairs, "come up here, quick."

Sam walked into her apartment holding onto your hand, and her grip only tightened when she saw what everyone was watching on the TV.

A student from Blackmore University had just been murdered, Mindy recognized him from their film studies class.

Tension lay heavy in the room, but especially, it radiated off Sam; you could feel it in the tremble of her hold on your hand when the reporter spoke about the several Ghostface costumes left at the scene of the crime.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Sam’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @alexkolax

#sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter imagine #sam carpenter #samantha carpenter #scream #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x female reader #samcarpenteredit #imagine #fanfic #fluff #angst #sam carpenter fanfic #melissa barrera #melissa barrera x reader #my story

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bookishdreamer28 · 5 months

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Tom Blyth is a total babe and has my heart and his character in Billy the kid has me weak on the knees

Btw I'll definitely write more Billy fics so I hope you'll enjoy reading this one ❣

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You felt your body responding to his intense stare again. You found yourself burning with desire for the man with the beautiful ocean eyes across the room, for the 5th time this month. He was an occasional costumer but you never had the chance to have a proper conversation with him because of all these drunken people blocking your way or your boss making you taking orders from other tables. He never once threw a dirty look at you, neither he made you feel uneasy and uncomfortable in any way just like brainless rats did. And you liked that. You liked him.

When you served a costumer his bear, your eyes went immediately on him. He gave a small smile and waved at you. This small interaction increased your heart's rate and you returned the smile with one of your own. You tried to preoccupy yourself by cleaning the counter but all you could think about was him. The man who already had your heart in his hands.

After contemplating for about half an hour on what to do, you picked up the courage and made your way to his table. His eyes never left you. Seeing you approaching him made him nervous. Unable to make a single move.

"Would you like me to bring you something else?" You asked giving him a sweet smile.

"Uh n-no thank you" his hand traveled up to his hair, pushing a few locks out of the way. You suddenly felt your mouth dry. You licked your lips and you caught his eyes following the movement.

"I'm Y/N" you reached your hand out for a shake. He gently grabbed your hand and said

"I'm William but most people call me Billy. The choice is yours sweetheart" he lowered your hand to his mouth and placed a soft kiss there. Your cheeks were burning and you were sure that you looked like you had fever.

You were ready to say something but a drunk guy placed his arm around your shoulder. Your body tensed and Billy's eyes darkened.

"Why don't We get this kind of treatment huh?" His breath was stinking liquor and you wanted to punch the shit out of him which you were ready to do so, but Billy caught you. His punch surely broke thos guy's jaw and it sent him straight to the floor. He then picked him up by his colar and slammed him to the wall.

"If you even dare do as much as look in her direction, I will end you, get it? Don't you DARE put your filthy hands on her again" He growled and then threw him on the floor again. The guy didn't had the guts to say anything to Billy. And all the other men in the bar knew that it would be best if the mind their own business instead of get themselves involved in this.

Billy turned to you and gently touched your shoulders.

"Let's get out of here"

"But I can't just le-"

"As long as you're with me no one is going to hurt you. There's no way I'm leaving you here but if you want to stay, I'll stay too" his words warmed your heart.

"Lead the way cowboy" you smirked and grabbed his hand. He smiled widely and walked the to exit. Once you were outside you started laughing at how wonderful it all felt with him. He couldn't help but watch you closely. Your smile, your bright eyes, your hair flowing in the breeze. You were all he's thinking about and now he finally has the chance to be with you. Just the two of you.

You looked at your intertwined fingers and your stomach filled with butterflies again . But then your eyes widened when you realized that you were still holding hands.

Billy noticed your expression and was ready to pull his hand away but you held it tight.

"I'm ok with this...that is as long as you're ok with it too" and for once agaim you felt your face burning.

"I'm more than ok sweetheart" he smiled.

"Oh thank you souch for earlier I didn't expe-"

"I will never let anyone touch you again like this. I know you think that I didn't have to interfere but it made my blood boil seeing in distress" he stopped walking and turned his body to you.

His eyes were so beautiful under the moonlight. The soft touch of his fingertips on your cheek is what shook me out of my thoughts. Your breath quickened.

"I...where is your home exactly? I don't want you to walk on your all alone now" he cleared his throat, moving his hand from your face, looking anywhere else but you.

"Oh we're almost there-...Um actually, I don't want to go home right now" you stopped him from moving.

"Ok that's great then, cause I didn't want you to go either" he said and you stared at each other.

"Great" you whispered and moved closer to him.

"Great" he moved closer too.

His hands cupped your face slowly and his thumbs were caressing your skin softly.

"Can I please, please kiss you? Cause I've been dying to do this for whole month now and I can't wait longer" your legs felt like jelly and you had no idea how you managed to stand still.

You nodded eagerly and closed your eyes the moment he started leaning in. He kissed you tenderly and pulled back to see your reaction, only for you to crash your lips against his passionately. You felt Billy's hand slide into your hair and his other kept your body close to his. The kiss held such intensity and emotion, that made you both breathless once you pulled away.

"I'm at your mercy woman" he whispered against my lips and and I smiled, grabbing his collar to kiss him more

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Thank you for reading 😚 love you all

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid x you #tom blyth x reader #tom blyth #tom blyth x you #tom x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid fluff #billy the kid fic #tom blyth fanfiction #tom blyth fluff #tom blyth the man you are #fanfic #william bonney #william bonney x reader

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sissylittlefeather · 3 months

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How the Web Was Woven: Chapter 14

A/N: I told y'all this one would be coming quickly. I can't let my babies be unhappy for too long. ICYMI: this is the soulmate/time travel AU between Elvis and a fem!reader. We pick up in 2023/1973 in a rather tense moment.

Much love always to @ccab for loving me and loving what I write. You's mah best frend.

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Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, angst, alcohol use, cussing, a car accident, injury, hospital, and then the good stuff, kissing, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), p in v penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie, I think that's everything.

Word count: ~3.4K

You sit on the couch staring at each other waiting for his answer.

******

You sit in silence for a few minutes before you can't stand it anymore.

"Elvis? Did you move on?"

"I don't know."

You feel like someone stabbed you in the heart and you struggle to breathe.

"I need... something... I just... I'll be right back." You get up, grab your purse, and stumble to the door of the suite. The kids will be safe with him and your mom.

"Y/n, wait!" You hear him as you close the door quickly behind you. When you get to the lobby, there's nowhere for you to go. Instead, you head to the bar and order a glass of wine. You try to sip it slowly, but it doesn't last long, so you order another.

Back in the suite, your mom comes into the living room to find Elvis on the couch with his head in his hands.

"John?" She says it gently, trying not to startle him. He sniffs and wipes his eyes and looks up at her.

"Oh, Cynthia, I'm sorry. Did we bother you?"

"Not at all. She left, didn't she?" He nods. She sits next to him on the couch. "Do you know where she went?"

"I have an idea."

"Then why are you still sitting here?" He looks over at her suddenly.

"I really don't know." He stands up and heads towards the door. He turns back when he reaches it. "You'll-"

"I got the kids. Go."

"Thank you." He walks out the door and makes his way to the lobby.

He was right about where you would be. You're still at the bar nursing your third glass of wine. He walks up next to you and pulls out the chair.

"Anybody sitting here?" You smile a little before responding.

"No, but my husband is the jealous type." Then you look down at your drink. "Or, at least, he used to be."

"He still is." He sits next to you at the bar and you scoff. "Hey. Don't be like that."

"Like what? Like my husband doesn't love me anymore?" You drain your glass and gesture to the bartender that you want another. He can't help but be reminded of the party you went to together in 2010 and it breaks his heart.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't not say that." He sighs deeply.

"Honey, can we just try to be happy? For the kids?" The bartender brings you your glass of wine and you turn and look at him.

"Why don't we just make a portal and send you home to Linda?"

"How do you...? Right. No, I want to spend more time with the kids."

"That's fair. I'll be nice. Then we'll get you back to your girlfriend."

"Y/n..."

"No, you know what. Don't." You take your ring off of your finger and set it on the bar in front of him. "Here. Give her that."

You drain your glass and stand up, but you've just pounded a whole bottle of wine in less than an hour, so you stumble a little and he catches you. He grabs your ring off the bar and then steadies you as you try to walk. You pull away from him and try to stand on your own.

"I'm fine. I don't need you to save me. I do things by myself all the time. Who needs a husband?"

"Y/n, you're drunk. Please let me help you." Without warning, you start to cry. He lifts you into his arms like a baby and flashes back to all the other times he's carried you like this before: when you were sad and drunk in college, when you and he finally made it home in the snowstorm, and when he carried you across the threshold of your Vegas honeymoon suite. How did you get here from there?

You cry against his chest as he takes you back up to the room. Inside the suite, your mom has gone to bed. He takes you to the room you're intended to share and settles you in the bed, removing your shoes gently. When he goes to leave and sleep on the couch, you grab his hand.

"Stay with me. Please." He's not sure if you mean tonight or forever.

"Oh, honey, I-"

"Please."

"Okay." He takes his shoes off and lays down on the other side of you. His heart feels like it's in a vice and it takes him a long time to go to sleep, even with you snoring quietly beside him.

******

The next morning, you wake up tucked up under his chin with his arm around you, just like the first night you stayed together. But this time, when you wake up, you pull away and get out of the bed. You hear the kids in the living area with your mom, so you make your way in there to them. Your mom brings you a glass of water and you sit down on the couch. John Jessie immediately asks about his dad, so you send both kids in there to wake him up. The laughter that spills from the room when they do makes you want to cry all over again.

"I'm taking the kids today." You turn to your mom.

"What? No. He's here to see them. We should let them be together."

"There's plenty of time for that tomorrow. You two need a day."

"No, mom, we really don't."

"Yes. I'd give anything for another day with your dad. I'm not letting you throw this away. Not without trying. I'm taking the kids."

And she does. She takes them to the beach and promises to be gone until dinner time. You and Elvis just stare at each other in silence.

"Do you need fried potatoes?" He knows you and how you deal with a hangover.

"Yeah, I really do."

"Come on." You head downstairs together to your rental car in silence. He agrees to drive, as always, and you head to a breakfast place you've found on your phone. As you ride, he pulls your ring out of his pocket.

"Put this back on your finger." You hear the edge to his voice and it irritates you. What does he have to be angry about?

"And if I say no?"

"Y/n, I'm not asking."

"Why the fuck would I put that back on?"

"Because you're my goddamn wife!"

"Am I?! Because you don't seem to want me to be!" He turns and looks at you and you can feel the rage rolling off of him.

"PUT THE FUCKING RING ON YOUR FINGER."

"FUCK YOU ELVIS."

"FUCK ME? FUCK ME?! I-"

He doesn't get anything else out though because he's taken his eyes off the road and completely misses the red light. The other car collides with yours on your side and you skid across the intersection as the sickening crunch of metal on metal rings through you both. Time seems to slow down as you're thrown around inside the vehicle. Everything goes black.

******

When Elvis comes to, someone else has called 911 and the emergency personnel move around quickly, hollering to each other as they work.

"Sir? He's regained consciousness." He's strapped to a gurney and they're loading him into an ambulance. When he realizes what's happened, he immediately tries to sit up.

"My wife-"

"They're extracting her from the car. They'll meet us at the hospital." He tries to get off the gurney.

"No. I'm not leaving her. Extract her? Is she okay?"

"Sir, calm down-"

"Calm down?! WHERE IS MY WIFE?!" They close the doors to the ambulance and give him an injection of something to calm him down. He drifts off into a kind of twilight sleep again.

The next time he wakes up, he's in the hospital. He sits up suddenly and goes to get out of the bed. The nurses rush in to settle him, but he won't be settled. He yells at anyone who will listen that he needs to find you.

Finally, the doctor comes in as he's trying to rip his IV out.

"Mr. Burrows, you have to stop. We will take you to your wife, but you need to calm down first." He sits down on the edge of the bed breathing heavily.

"Where is she?"

"She's been admitted."

"Admitted? No. That means-"

"They're running some tests right now, but she still hasn't woken up."

"No. No no no." He collapses on his knees beside the bed and weeps. The doctor is deeply affected, but helps him back onto the bed. He has the nurses remove Elvis's IV and monitors and helps him get dressed.

"Let's go see her." Elvis nods weakly and the doctor leads him to your room.

When he sees you in the bed, he falls to his knees again and rocks back and forth crying. The doctor helps him into the chair next to your bed. Elvis holds your hand and presses it to his lips.

"God, honey, I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. Please wake up." You don't, not yet, but he wills you to open your eyes.

The doctor has seen a lot of trauma and a lot of broken husbands. But something about the way Elvis weeps hits him differently. He leaves you alone together.

"Please, honey." Elvis kisses your hand over and over, begging you to wake up. "I can't do this without you. God, I love you so much. Please don't leave me."

You lay in the bed not moving with the monitors beeping quietly. And he sits beside you, praying desperately to God that you wake up soon.

******

Elvis calls your mom to check on the kids and let her know what's happened. She's dying to come to you, but she knows someone has to watch the kids and he's in no position to do it. Besides, there's no way he'd ever leave you.

The doctor eventually comes back with the results of your tests. You have a very small brain bleed that they're hoping will resolve itself soon. They're not exactly sure why you haven't woken up yet. Elvis assumes it's his fault and spends the hours while you sleep beating himself up for hurting you, both physically and emotionally. There's not a single doubt in his mind anymore that he loves you and wants to be married to you. Almost losing you is killing him and he wants nothing more than to take you in his arms and love you the way he always has. He stays by your side through the rest of the day, not even leaving to eat, and settles in for a night watch.

Finally, around 3:30am, you stir a little. He sits up and watches you carefully. Your eyes flutter open and he's overwhelmed with emotion.

"Elvis?" You whisper quietly.

"Oh God, y/n, I-"

"Shhh... it's okay."

"No it's not, honey. It's not okay at all. I'm so sorry. For everything."

"This wasn't your fault."

"Yes, it was, but I mean even more than that." He kisses the back of your hand again. "I love you so much, baby. I love you with all of me and I can't believe I ever thought I could be without you."

He moves a piece of your hair off of your face and runs his fingertips down the side of your cheek.

"You still love me?" You ask quietly, voice quavering.

"God, honey, yes. You are the love of my life." You smile, your eyes watery, and nod gently. He climbs into the bed next to you and holds you close to him.

"I'm yours, y/n. Forever."

******

They release you from the hospital a couple of days later with instructions to rest for three weeks before you fly home. You obviously can't afford to stay in the hotel for three weeks, so you find some small bungalows on the beach and rent one for you and Elvis and one for your mom and the kids. The doctor said you need to rest, so he recommends the kids stay with your mom, especially in the beginning.

Elvis is the perfect caretaker. He keeps you fed and hydrated and entertained and makes you sleep and rest to heal.

At the end of the first week, you find yourselves on the couch together. He's watching a movie on tv and you're scrolling on your phone. You roll over a sexy edit of Elvis on Instagram and accidentally turn the sound on. The song is dirty and it gets his attention before you can mute it.

"Honey, what are you watching?"

"Nothing!" You answer quickly, really hoping he doesn't press the issue. But he can tell you're hiding something and the curiosity gets the better of him.

"What is it? Just show me." You get a strange look on your face and now he's determined to see what you were looking at.

"No!" You giggle and he crawls toward you on the couch. "No! No!"

You try to push him away with your feet and he moves them out of the way to crawl between them and up your body to reach for your phone. He's on top of you now, trying to grab your phone. You move it around over your head and try to use your other hand to keep him from getting it. In the process of moving your phone out of his reach, you turn the sound up and accidentally click on the edit again. The song plays and when you bring your phone back down to turn it off, he snatches it and looks at the screen, still in his position between your legs.

It's a sexy edit of him shirtless and wet in the movie Fun in Acapulco. You bury your face in your hands and blush a deep red. He watches it and then looks at you surprised. Then, he busts out laughing and looks back at the phone.

"Is this what you're into, honey? I guess I should be glad it's me."

"Oh my goddddddd." You want to melt into the couch.

"Mike Windgren, though? That movie is terrible. Honey, what is this?"

"It's a TikTok." You answer from behind your hands.

"Are they all videos of Mike?" You pop your face up and laugh.

"Oh, no! They have them for all of your movie characters. And just for, like, you..."

"I wanna see."

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do! Show me!" You reluctantly open TikTok and go to your saved videos. You hand him your phone and cover your face again. He scrolls through them and laughs. A few of them make him blush, though. He stumbles upon one of him from the Aloha concert and is amazed. You realize what's happening and try to wrestle the phone back away from him. He holds you at arms length and laughs while you play fight your way up him. Eventually, he stands up and holds the phone behind his back. You stand up and face him.

"Honey, you know, you don't have to watch those. I'm right here. You could just turn on some sexy music and look at me."

"Oh, shut up!" You say, blushing. But then you look up at him. And he looks down at you, energy gathering in the space between your bodies. He puts his hand on the side of your face and runs his thumb over your lips. You can tell he wants to kiss you, but it's been so long that he's not sure if he can. Slowly, he leans in and presses his lips to yours. He might look older than the first time, but his kiss is the same and you melt into him like butter.

You walk backwards to your bedroom, shedding clothing as you go, mouths still smashed together. When you get to the bed, you're both naked, but before he lays you down, he steps back and looks at you. He reaches a hand out to caress your breast and run his thumb over your nipple.

"God, y/n, you're such a beautiful woman."

"I figured I was getting too old for you."

"Never."

"I wasn't even sure you wanted me anymore. Not like this."

"Honey, I will always want you." With that, he lays you down on the bed gently and begins to explore your body with his mouth. You've done it so many times, but something about this feels new and sacred. He kisses every part of you and the sensation of his hot mouth on your skin makes you drip with need.

He finally makes his way to your center and presses a kiss to you between your legs. Then, he begins to move his tongue on you just how he knows you like it. He could be with a thousand women and still remember your body and the way you taste and feel. This is everything you've both been missing and he licks you like his life depends on it. The overwhelming sensation of pleasure courses through you as he moves his tongue over and around your sensitive bud. He slides a finger into you and feels how your body reacts. Suddenly, everything else melts away and there's only you and him and the love he's making to you. You feel the coil of your orgasm tightening and know you won't last much longer. He can tell you're close too and he ramps up the movements of his tongue. Finally, the dam breaks and your release rushes through you in wave after wave of ecstasy. He tongues you through the high and when you come back down he pulls away sighing.

"I love the way you feel when you come, baby."

"Mmmm... now it's your turn." You respond breathlessly. He climbs up your body and lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you with his tip.

"I've waited so long to make love to you, y/n." He pushes into you slowly, letting you feel every inch of his cock. A soft moan escapes your lips and he groans. "The sounds you make... mmmm baby, you make me crazy."

He starts to slide in and out of you in a gentle rhythm, hitting all the best places inside you, kissing your neck sensually. He moves gracefully on top of you and you want to cry it feels so good.

"I've missed you so much, baby." He sets his head on your shoulder as he fucks you in the gentlest way you've experienced since the night he proposed. This feels like a kind of renewal of your vows and he moans into your mouth as he kisses you deeply.

He starts to thrust a little faster, but never changes the gentle pattern of sliding in and out of you. Your walls begin to flutter around him and he groans, knowing that the end is coming for both of you. He fills you fully with each movement as his speed increases.

"Fuck, Elvis, it's so good."

"It is, baby, it really is." He rolls you over on your side and positions your leg over his hip. The gentle thrusting doesn't change, but the intimacy seems to increase as he looks into your eyes and peppers you with kisses. His cock slides in and out rhythmically and he grunts with the nearness of his climax. He whispers between kisses as he pushes in and out.

"I love you, y/n. This is a new beginning for us. And I'm making a promise to you. I will never question us ever again. You are the one who my soul loves. We are everything."

He thrusts gently a few more times as he holds your hip and moves ever closer to his release. The tears that slide down your cheeks are happy ones and you press your forehead to his and he whispers again.

"I belong to you and you alone, y/n." He kisses you passionately and pushes into you one more time.

"God, yes, Elvis!" You cry out as you tumble together into the sea of your orgasm, the waves crashing over you in a tender expression of your love. He holds you there shuddering and pumping weakly until he comes back down to earth. You lay there looking at each other, basking in the rediscovery of your love.

"I will love you until the end of time. And if you're ever gone again, I will wait for you." You put your hand on his cheek and kiss the end of his nose, unable to speak, but the vulnerable gesture says everything you'd say with words.

You lay there together for a long time, just taking each other in and reveling in the shared pleasure of the experience.

A portal appears and you don't even acknowledge it. You're both too wrapped in the web of each other to notice anything beyond the boundaries of your intertwined bodies.

******

Until next time...

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Taglist:

@ccab @elvisfatass @elvisalltheway101 @aliypop @18lkpeters @dkayfixates @rosepresley68 @your-nanas-house @deniseinmn @joshuntildawn13 @lookingforrainbows @60svintage @littlehoneyposts @epthedream69 @that-hotdog @eddiesgirlforever @helen06dreamer @returntopresley @rjmartin11 @noirrose21-blog @tacozebra051 @deltafalax

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