#almost verging on angst for the sake of angst

[hells-wasabii]

A/N: in case it isn’t obvious this is another heavy work, so do with that information as you will. I took a completely different approach to this one than the one with Velvette, I don’t feel that Carmilla would actually act on the information unless it was something you explicitly expressed desire for. I didn’t fully proof read this either so lemme know if I’ve made any mistakes

Character: Carmilla

Type: Fic (Carmilla x fem!reader who had abusive ex, Angst, Fluff)

You had just wanted a cup of coffee. That’s all it had been. Coffee and a muffin during an early morning in hell.

It should have been simple. It was simple. But still, you found yourself tucked into a booth with your face buried in your hands on the verge of a breakdown.

And yet your heart still pounded away in your chest. One moment had been fine, and the next notes of an all too familiar cologne met your nose. You would have recognized that scent anywhere, the notes of pine stinging your nostrils. It was the sort that did little to cover the smell of cigarettes, you remembered. The smell was burned in your mind, embedded in the deepest recesses of your worst memories. Fuck, you hated it.

With each panicked breath that entered your lungs, your fear grew. Screwing your eyes shut you tried to will yourself to calm down. They weren’t here, you tried to remind yourself. You needed something to ground you, anything. And so with shaking hands, you wrapped them around your cup. The heat seeped through the porcelain and into your palms, but even still it wasn’t enough.

All at once, it was like you could hear everything and nothing at all. It felt akin to drowning. And you were alone with no one to save you. It was a fact that only served to unsettle you more. You couldn’t help but wonder, would the other patrons jump to your aid should they make an appearance? Or would they turn a blind eye and whisper amongst themselves just as they did when you lived?

They weren’t here, you tried to remind yourself. They weren’t even in the same city for fucks sake. You’d made damn sure of that when you chose to settle in Pentagram City. Rationally, you knew this, but it did little to settle your nerves. You thought that you had done so well to make progress, but now you weren’t so sure. Had all that work to get away really been for nothing? Maybe you really should have killed the bastard sooner…

You screwed your eyes close tightly, gripping the hot cup even tighter. The cup in your hand burned, but you didn’t care. It helped ground you to reality. This would pass, you told yourself just as you had countless times before. It had to.

But you couldn’t help but half expect them to slide into the booth opposite of you.

Your blood ran cold when you heard the door to the shop open. The thought of potentially getting up from your seat and quickly leaving the cafe sprung to your mind, yet you remained frozen in place.

A soft conversation between three women met your ears, light-hearted. It’s not much but the voices sooth you, even from across the cafe. It wasn’t them.

Once more the noises melded together, a horrible amalgamation that was quickly becoming too much.

A sharp gasp left your lips as you felt a hand rest upon your shoulder. You nearly spilled your coffee as fear flooded your senses. Your head whipped around to find a tall demon with white hair and sharp eyes staring back at you, looking almost as surprised as you felt. You realized that you recognized the woman as she quickly retracted her hand, as though if she weren’t careful she would burn you.

Carmilla Carmine, the biggest name in arms dealing in the pride ring. A powerful overlord whose reach even extended to the other rings. You knew each other, or at least knew of each other.

The overlord's eyes scanned your features, taking only a moment to gather herself before she spoke. “Are you alright?”

You didn’t reply at first, you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. Instead, you nod, shifting under the arms dealer’s gaze. She stood there, silent, as if she were deciding something.

“Girls,” Carmilla called out gently after a moment, and soon two younger women were at her side. Her daughters, you realized. “Go on without me, I believe I’ll stay just a bit longer.”

The overlord’s daughters looked between themselves and then back to their mother. Both of the young women seemed to have a look of understanding when the one in the white coat replied. “We’ll see you at home, mother.” Carmilla watched as they left, setting her drink at the table as she settled into the booth opposite of you.

“Now, would you like to talk about what’s going on?”

Truly, you couldn’t understand it. You had only spoken once, maybe twice before and that had been in the company of others. Why was she doing this? You couldn’t help but wonder if something like this was what you had so desperately wished for when you still breathed. And so you let this woman distract you from your panic.

What followed was a conversation that would change your afterlife. While you didn’t dive into specifics. You expressed your fears, and her, understanding and support.

Eventually, the conversation drifted to other things. The conversations that fell between the two of you felt effortless. She had gotten you to smile, to laugh even. You had felt a rare sense of pride when you had managed a chuckle out of the overlord in return. You weren’t sure you had felt this at ease in a long time.

To be quite honest, you hadn’t even realized how long you sat in that cafe with the overlord until Carmilla’s phone began to buzz, her screen lighting up as a few messages appeared on its screen.

“I’m afraid that’s my cue.” The arms dealer sighed, seeming a touch disappointed as she rose from the booth. Though she took a pause, her eyes locking with yours again a moment. She reached into her pocket, receiving what had appeared to be her receipt from earlier, and quickly jotted something down on the receipt before she folded it neatly. “It seems my daughters are expecting me home for a late lunch.

“Maybe I’ll see you around,“ Carmilla slid the folded receipt in front of you, offering one last gentle smile before she left. And so you watch her go, offering a small ‘yeah,’ though you doubt that she heard.

Once she had exited the cafe it was like you had broken out of a chance. With a shake of your head, you sank back into your seat as you turned your attention to the slip that the overlord had left behind for you. Carefully you took it into your hands.

Your eyes widened as you opened the folded slip, revealing her name and phone number.

‘In case you want to talk more.’

#hazbin hotel #hazbin imagine #hazbin headcanons #hazbin hotel x reader #carmilla carmine x reader #carmilla carmine #carmilla x reader #hazbin hotel carmilla

[eilishsluv]

could u write a fanfic maybe a angst to fluff? perhaps billie stops giving attention and reader overthinks which leads to angst then fluff. hope ur well:)

sure anon! i hope this is how you wanted<3

attention

billie eilish x fem!reader

summary: billie had stopped giving you the attention she used to which lead to you overthinking & so an argument

warnings: arguing, hickies, kissing & unedited

notes: this was fun to write, enjoy reading:)

billie was an extremely busy person, she had been ever since she stepped foot into the famous business. but these past few weeks you've been feeling extremely neglected by her, its happened before but never for this long. usually only afew days but its almost been 2 months. this had made your thoughts sprial.

overthinking was a bad habit of yours but how could you not especially right now? her flirty comments with other famous people, fans & just anyone. you loved billie & so did she, but now you definitely doubted it.

you both laid in her bed, your head on her chest & usually she'd avoid her phone, or atleast her hands somewhere on you, but no, not today. billie had both her hands on her phone, with her arms on either side of you, barely brushing against you as she typed.

you were done, the jealousy, overthinking & worry got to you. you managed to move away from billie & off the bed.

"whats wrong baby?" billie questioned watching you look around the room.

you ignored her completely, although hearing her voice & petname hurt your heart terribly. scurrying around her room finding your clothes & some of your belongings, billies brain started to tik realising you were leaving.

"woah woah woah, y/n what are you doing?" billie started to move off the bed to stand with you. this made your blood boil.

"oh so you can flirt with other people, ignore me completely, make me feel like shit but you expect me to stay & deal with all of it?" as you talked your voice got louder & louder, you were pissed.

the distress was visible in her face, you stared at her waiting on a response.

"y/n what are you on about?" billie was on the verge of tears, you on the other hand had hot tears streaming down your cheeks already.

"you think i dont see everything you do billie?! for fucks sake, i mean really? really. every single comment you make on another person breaks me apart cause i went from hearing them every single second to once a week if im fucking lucky!" your voice broke all throughout that sentence but you had to get that out, but you couldnt scream all you wanted to.

billie slowly stepped towards where you were standing. she was insanely intimidating when she wanted to be, all you did was step further back up until you hit the wall.

she stared deep into your eyes, hers showed a sad although dominant expression.

"is that all you think & feel?" billie looked as if she was joking, you didnt care. she asked for it whether or not she was serious.

you scoffed looking down then back up into her eyes.

"do you seriously think thats all? i mean billie all i fucking want is your attention but you dont even give a single fuck to me anymore. you have done nothing but ignore me for weeks!" screaming that in her face felt therapeutic but also painful.

billie looked speechless, you guys had argued before but never over something like this.

"you think i dont love you?" her sentence hung in the air, your face gave it all away. billie cleared her throat before continuing.

"which other girl is dancing in my house, wearing my clothes, coming with me to events, sleeping in my bed in my arms, cooking me dinner or listening to me make a new album? y/n you are the only girl i want & need, i own up to being distant but i dont want another girl" billies tears started to fall. you wiped them away as she leaned into your touch.

"im sorry baby." you felt like shit for everything you did in the past 10 minutes.

"dont be sorry for my actions & how ive treated you" you both felt bad but only wanted one thing, & that was eachother.

billie leaned down into your neck, leaving kisses & marks. it was one of her ways of saying sorry & that she loves you.

"i love you" you spoke

"i love you mamas" billie answered back.

she was all you wanted & you were all she wanted, she definitely cleaned her act up after that.

#billie eilish x reader #billie eilish #eilishsluv

[chuluoyi]

UNHOLY MATRIMONY — 05

✩°｡ ⋆ sinner's punishment

- fushiguro megumi x oc/reader - oc/reader's character name is hara sena, pronouns still refer to “you” and i won’t mention it often—just for the sake of aesthetic rather than repeatedly writing "y/n"

in another life, in which fate is still screwing his life over, Fushiguro Megumi finds himself in an arranged marriage―with you.

genre/warnings: arranged marriage au, heavy angst, minor character death, description of panic attack, mentions of blood, hurt/comfort

notes: if i may be so bold, this is my favorite chapter so far. but please pay attention to the warnings and read with discretion

✩°｡ ⋆ unholy matrimony (masterlist) | chapter four : going downhill <- previous ✩ next -> chapter six : a longer dream

In hindsight, the first person you could’ve called shouldn't be your husband. You could’ve called the police, or informed the jujutsu headquarters that traces of a curse user were found in your mother’s humble cottage.

But you were on the verge of having a panic attack, and the first person you could hold onto was Megumi. He promised to come to you as soon as he finished his mission. And for the next agonizing four days, he was there with you.

And on the fifth day, when Itadori Yuji, who was in charge of this investigation, came to your doorstep to deliver the grim news, you felt yourself shaking, overwhelmed with the beginnings of hysteria.

"N-no..." Your breathing was getting harder and out of control. "T-there must be... a m-mistake..."

"I'm sorry, Sena-san," Yuji drooped his head apologetically and gritted his teeth, seemingly pained that he must be the one to tell you this. "We found the corpse at the west area of the river bank. And we've identified her as your mother."

It started with choked sobs, and then an almost inhuman scream erupted from your throat and you started weeping so intensely that you nearly crumpled, saved only by Megumi's strong grip that kept you from collapsing entirely.

You grabbed a hold of his shirt so tightly that your knuckles turned pale, almost ripping it, looking at him through your torrents of tears. "I-it's not true... r-right? I-it's just a nightmare! Please w-wake me u-up..."

"Sena." Megumi's deep voice resonated, reflecting his own struggle in processing this devastating news. He looked at Yuji, who was close to tears himself, and then at you, before pulling you into his arms tightly.

"N-no!" you wailed, thrashing against his hold. "Megumi! No! My mom―my mother! S-she can't b-be―"

Your mother, who used to brush your hair and pat your back to get you to sleep when you were little. Your mother, who stood against your father because he would marry you off to some bastard who could make your life hell and got shut away. And your mother―who cried in relief on your wedding day, realizing that you would be in good hands with Megumi.

The reality of her death suddenly hit your conscience, sinking in with profound gravity. You began to wheeze, your screams and sobs merging into a cacophony of anguish. You nearly passed out in Megumi's arms as your ability to stand forsaking you entirely, but he still refused to let you go. He continued to hold you, pressing you tightly against his chest, even as you sank to the floor and pounded his chest in agonizing despair.

"Cry it out," he whispered. "Don't hold back. Just cry. It’s alright."

How did it come to this? Who in the world would murder your kind, loving mother? Why did it have to be her? What had she done so wrong that she deserved this?

Or was this karma? A divine punishment? For trapping the unaware Megumi into this marriage?

You couldn't think straight, the sheer pain of it all numbed your very being and you wanted to die too along with her. Even when you knew you were using him, you couldn't help but hang on Megumi's strong grip as you cried your heart out.

The first days after the news broke were excruciating for Megumi as well.

He felt his chest ache whenever he saw you sobbing and crying in pain nonstop. It was a new form of torment, seeing you like that. He wanted to somehow alleviate your pain, albeit a bit. Or do anything to help you at all.

The preparations for the funeral mostly fell to him as you barely functioned. You were even more inconsolable after you saw the sight of blood on the white blanket that covered your mother in the autopsy room―you insisted on seeing her one last time, but you completely broke down afterwards and didn't dare to lift that piece of blanket. You feared the sight to remain in your nightmares.

And Megumi understood that. If he were in your position, it would destroy him too. Even though he had forgotten how his mother was like, he figured that should he lose Tsumiki this way, he could very well go feral altogether.

There weren't many that attended the funeral, and by the last day, your crying had subsided, replaced by this eerie silence and blank stare. You were dressed in all black and barely said a thing or two to the mourners. The only time your eyes glinted with something other than voidness was when your father had the audacity to come and pay his respect before the altar.

Cold fury. Megumi never saw you like that. You surged with so much hatred that when your father asked if you were okay you just turned your head away and refused to give him an answer.

"Please... look after my daughter," your father, the Hara clan head, said to Megumi outside the funeral house as the last of the mourners of the final day. He had looked so concerned and Megumi didn't have the heart to turn him away. He just nodded and bid his farewell curtly.

He would. Of course he would. What sort of husband would he be if he didn't?

When he got back, he found you staring at the altar in total stillness.

"My mother..." You croaked out, strained and barely audible. It was the first time he heard you saying something today other than many hollow “thank you” you muttered to each attendee. "She said... she'd rather take her own life rather than seeing me be married to Naoya."

Megumi's jaw tightened. Your voice radiated so much pain that it made his chest constrict and his desire to embrace you intensify. He approached you cautiously, aware of the anguish you were going through.

He turned to face you. "She was a great woman."

"She―was," you were quick to force the word out. You still looked so utterly heartbroken, but it seemed like you no longer had tears to spare. "I'm... going to find whoever did this," you muttered next, voice lacing with steel. "I won't let them free. I can't―this is the least I could do for her."

He nodded. Of course, he would extend his help too. All evidence pointed to this being the work of a curse user, which meant it wouldn't be long before you could find them.

It was easier said than done. Coming to terms didn't mean you would be able to go back to the way things were. A part of you was permanently shredded, and it would never be the same anymore. Megumi realized it firsthand when one night, a little over a week after the funeral, he heard quiet whimpers from your bedroom.

Truthfully, he also felt a sense of emptiness as well. Even though he didn’t know his mother-in-law that well, he remembered seeing her soft smile for him during the wedding, and of course the fact that she had sent many boxes of oranges just for you. He knew for a fact that she loved and cherished you so much.

And so, he tapped lightly on your door. Because the urge just got too much, and seeing you in grief made something in him want to rush to your side just to make sure that you were okay.

“Can I come in?”

Meanwhile inside, you had dampened your pillows with tears due to the dream of your happy childhood that just woke you up. Megumi's voice startled you as you tried to compose yourself.

You had noticed it. He had become even more considerate for you as of late, perhaps driven by sheer pity or sympathy. You didn’t care which—the fact that he did at all warmed your heart in a way you wouldn’t find the correct word to describe with, and you were grateful for his unflappable presence.

You wiped away your tears, and replied. “Yes.”

Megumi entered your room then, in his black sweater and visibly weary eyes. Despite his exhaustion, his concern for you was evident as his gaze met yours. “Are you alright?”

“…I’m fine. Sorry if I woke you.”

“No, I was getting the water,” he explained. “Do you have trouble sleeping?”

“Oh no... Not really.”

He hummed. “Want some company?”

You blinked. You would have never expected that Megumi would willingly offer you his presence just because he heard you sniffle to yourself at the dead of the night.

It was tempting—to continuously take advantage of his kindness. You knew it wasn’t right. You swore you knew.

But tonight…

Fushiguro Megumi is still your husband. By name and law it might be, but he did all his husbandly duties perfectly regardless. He was there to defend you, and hold you when you lost the only thing that mattered in your life.

And so as any wife would, you took up the offer of being in his presence. “Yeah.”

Megumi closed the door to your bedroom and studied you intently, his dark eyes narrowing. "Have you eaten tonight? I'm sorry I missed dinner. My mission ran late."

You found comfort in that simple question. "I didn't have the appetite. Anyway, it's okay."

His brow furrowed at your answer. "You can't go without eating anything. You'll get hungry and miserable."

To your surprise, Megumi left your room and then returned promptly, holding a box of cheesecake from a popular bakery in his hand.

"When did you get that?"

"On the way after finishing my job," he replied curtly, offering the treat. "Here. Eat now."

You were slightly taken aback as the pretty cheesecake was now in your hands. "It's midnight. I'm going to build up calories," you whined but clamped your mouth shut when he threw you a withering look. With a sigh, you pierced the fork through the fluffy cake and took a bite.

It was tasty, and you shyly indulged in another bite as Megumi smirked, as if silently conveying an "I told you so."

"No longer feeling as miserable, are we?" he asked with a hint of laughter.

You just hummed in response, avoiding eye contact. He chuckled. "Good then. I'm glad you like it."

It occurred to you that Megumi actually didn't like sweet things. He always took his coffee black, and he rarely ate the pastries you'd bring back. So he must have bought this with you in mind.

A warm feeling enveloped you, realizing that someone still cared about you enough to consider your feelings and bring you comfort.

"Thank you, Megumi," you mumbled, looking down at the half-eaten cake. The loss of your mother still stung you and in the darkest corner of your heart, you barely managed to find the will to continue living. But Megumi's presence made it better, a hundred times over. And most of all, you feel safe with him.

"Don't mention it." He breathed a sigh of relief.

It wouldn’t have been easy, and he knew it was going to take time. Healing was a process, and he was willing to be there every step of the way.

“Your eyes are red,” he pointed out. “Do you want me to get you a cool compress?”

You responded while still chewing the cheesecake. “Mmm, no. That’s okay.”

“Don’t be stubborn. Last time you didn’t listen to me, you almost tripped if I didn’t catch you.”

“That’s purely by accident! And hey, did you remember when we—”

That night, you and Megumi sat together on your bed, reminiscing about various things before eventually basking in comfortable silence. You didn't know when you started getting sleepy, but you did and the next thing you knew, in the morning, the first sight that greeted you was Megumi's sleeping face.

He was here the entire night. And you realized that with him here, you were no longer overcome with the urge to weep as much.

What is this feeling? Why couldn't you take your eyes off him?

Megumi is fairly attractive. He looked grumpy and unfriendly by default, but even then he was still handsome. And now that he was defenseless like this, he looked soft. It was the sight only you, his wife, got to see. No one else could come close to see him like this as you did.

Because you are his wife, and he is your husband.

In this very marriage that you instigated.

Your chest twinged as a wave of guilt washed over you. How could you forget that? You were a sinner. All of this pain and suffering—you had brought it upon yourself, and your mother had paid the price.

A fresh wave of tears welled up in your eyes. Your sweet mother. She was the reason of this whole sham marriage. Now that the reason no longer existed, there was truly no need for either you or Megumi to continue on this path.

It felt even worse because you were falling for your husband. You might have deceived yourself until now, but this was an undeniable moment of truth. You weren't exactly sure when it had started, but you had willingly let Megumi capture your heart and have it. He was blunt but reliable and treated you well. Truth be told, you were genuinely enjoying this new life too.

But this has to stop. You couldn't fool over him forever. For his sake, you had to let him go.

Today was Sunday, so neither of you had to work. You had gone to the kitchen to ponder how you should bring the topic up when he stumbled in, still looking half-asleep.

"Ah, I fell asleep in your room," he remarked, yawning. The sight tugged your heartstrings because he looked so unguarded. You wanted to smother him, hug him, kiss him even―

No. This fantasy ends here.

"Megumi," you began, your tone carrying an edge that instantly put him on alert. "We need to talk."

He visibly frowned. "Yes?"

And nothing would've prepared him for the words coming out of you next.

"I think we should get a divorce."

✩°｡ ⋆ next -> chapter six : a longer dream

🏷️ taglist

@moonmalice @hellothere9597 @qtnfer @firstplaidpeachnickel @waddlingwanderer @chilichopsticks @satorus-slut @dcvilxswish @lees-chaotic-brain @tojirin @bluebreadenthusiast @pandabooster @cole-silas @becsmarvel @giuli-in-earth @fuckimgenderfluid @haitanisrarity @kimura-uzuri @bicchaan

#fushiguro megumi x reader #fushiguro megumi #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #fushiguro megumi x oc #megumi fushiguro #megumi fushiguro x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk imagines #fushiguro megumi angst #fushiguro megumi x you #fushiguro megumi fluff #series: unholy matrimony

[notenoughncise]

Why Don’t You Talk to Matty About it?

word count: 2.5K

f!reader x matty

tags: angst, happy ending

warnings: alcohol, mentions of smut but no actual smut

after pining after matty since they became friends 15 years ago, it all comes to a head for y/n on a drunken night out

——————————————————————————

You’re nearly two bottles of wine deep when she comes up to the table.

“Hiiiiii… I just wanted to say that I’m a massive fan of yours. I loooove the new album!”

She’s drunk as fuck; stumbling over her words, gripping his shoulder to keep herself steady. You feel the jealousy burning through your entire body. It’s a chore not to show it; to smile instead of scowl at her, to drink from your glass at a normal pace instead of throwing it down your throat.

He turns his head to look up at her, smiling so genuinely that you want to claw your eyes out. He’s drunk too, you can see it in the way he clumsily puts his hands over the one she has on his shoulder, eyes glazed over.

“Aw, thank you, Darlin’. We’re glad you like it.”

You feel sick. He’s looking at her so gently, like he might spook her if he doesn’t. She’s just a fan saying hello, you scream at yourself internally, stop being a fucking melt. And it almost works, you almost calm down, and then she giggles and plops herself down next to him. You breathe in sharply, tightening your grip on your glass.

George puts his hand on your thigh, and in leans in to whisper to you.

“Y/N, you need to chill out.”

George is right. You know he is. He’s always fucking right. You need to get a grip. 32 years old and so hung up on your teenage crush that you’re seriously considering squaring up to a teenager. And for what? A man who maybe looks your way twice on a good day? That’s not true. You aren’t being fair. Sometimes you think you see it in his eyes, but it disappears so fast. You can’t ever tell if it was really there. And he smiles, he smiles so softly just for you; so softly it makes you weak in the knees, makes you smile back a shit eating grin every time.

But what does it matter - he isn’t yours. You’re just ‘the friend’, the one woman he can count on to not try it on with him. He told you as much one time, sat huddled together in the freezing cold on someone’s back door step when you were 17. And what were you supposed to say to that? ‘Uhh, actually Matty…’, Yeah right. You smiled and took the fag that was dangling between his fingers, taking the longest drag you could manage so you didn’t have to reply. And here you are, over 15 years later, smiling sweetly and keeping your mouth occupied so you don’t ruin your life.

You’ve got a face like thunder, you can feel it. But you can’t stop it. You can’t stop looking at him, can’t stop the jealousy ripping through you. A jealousy you don’t really have a right to have. He’s got you all wound up. He’s not even looking at you and you’re on the edge of your seat.

But who are you kidding? He’s always got you wound up. Always got your knees on the verge of buckling, always got you hanging onto every word he says. You feel your whole body pulse every time he looks your way. You always have. It’s a curse you can’t escape. Not to be dramatic but sisyphus had it easy compared to you.

You all watch as he runs his hands up and down her waist, keeping his eyes on her. She giggles, bites her lip, clearly living out her rockstar fantasy. You want to strangle her. You wish this wine glass was her and you could just squeeze and squeeze and squeeze and-

“You need another drink, Y/N?” George asks, sensing that you need to be taken away from the table immediately.

“I would love another drink.”

-

George holds open the door to the smoking area for you.

You fumble with the packet, can’t find your lighter, realise that Matty bumped it earlier and never put it back.

“Oh for fuck’s sake!”

It’s too much. It’s the last straw. Here you are crouched down in a dingy smoking area on the verge of bawling your eyes out. All because some stupid child is holding Matty’s attention. She’s not a child, you think to yourself. She’s obviously old enough to be in here but oh what does it matter. You can’t think straight anymore.

You can’t stop thinking about his hands on her, how you wish they were on you. You’re so jealous. So jealous that she just sat down right next to him and melted onto his body. She did something in 10 seconds that you haven’t done in 10 years. And is it really that easy? Do you just need to hike your dress up, drag out your vowels, and bat your eyelashes? Will you he fuck you senseless then? Take you into the bathrooms and show you what next week looks like?

But that’s not really want you want, is it? It’s just easier to think about him if you convince yourself you only want to fuck him. That all you want is his hands in your hair and your lips on his neck. That you don’t want him in a nice, normal way at all. You don’t think about being the girl in his Instagram stories, or waking up in his arms every morning, or… or…

“This is getting pathetic, Y/N.” George’s hand is gently resting on your shoulder. He doesn’t look angry, he just looks at you with that sort of sad face you have when you can’t hide that you think someone’s being a massive twat.

“Yeah, I know. Believe me I fucking know.” You don’t mean it to sound as sad as it does. George crouches down next to you, running his hand up and down your arm.

You couldn’t count the amount of times you and George have sat like this; cuddled together as you cried about Matty. It never gets old, it’s almost a monthly event now. He joked once that you need to start marking it on the calendar for him so he can wear something he doesn’t mind you covering with makeup. You’ve become unexpectedly close. You never knew him well until that same fateful night you were put in your place by Matty. That was the first time - you sat cross legged on the kitchen counter with your lip quivering and your chest heaving, and George just held your hand until you calmed down.

“You can’t just keep crying about him. If he doesn’t feel the same way it won’t change anything; you’ll be embarrassed for a couple weeks and then it’ll all fall back into place. He’s a dick but he loves you more than anything, Y/N. You know he wouldn’t be mean about it. You know that.”

You choke back a sob. You know he’s right, it wouldn’t change anything really. You’re both adults, no one’s 16 anymore. It can be mature, you can both be sensible. But it’s always the same; gone are your inhibitions and in their place is Matty, clouding up your senses.

“I can’t do it George,” you whisper softly, wiping underneath your eyes with the sleeve of your dress, “I can’t risk losing him. I’d rather never have him the way I want and still have him here than never have him the way I want and not have him here.”

It’s too quiet. It’s quite sudden, it’s uncomfortable. It’s just a girl crying over a crush, except the girl’s in her 30’s and the crush is her best friend.

George pulls himself up off the ground, holding out his hands to help you. You take them gently and you both giggle when you fall flat on your arse. You dust yourself off and stand up properly. George takes a lighter from his pocket and lights the slightly crumpled fag you forgot you’ve been gripping onto.

“Sorry for being a massive gimp.” You laugh gently.

“S’alright, Y/L/N. My favourite thing about you.” He tries to keep his face straight but breaks into a massive grin, laughing along with you.

“I’m fine. I promise, I’m just… I don’t know, I don’t really have the words for it, to be honest with you.”

“Look, we’re gonna go back in there, get another drink, request whatever ridiculous song it takes to cheer you up, and we’re gonna have a fucking great time. Okay?”

“Okay.” You smile at him. You don’t know how anyone survives in this world without George Daniel.

He pulls you into a hug, and you can’t help but start crying again. You wipe at the tears but it does nothing other than ruin your makeup even more.

“I’m gonna look a fucking state when I go back in there.”

“Eh, it’s dark. No one will be able to tell.”

“Wow,” you laugh out, “thanks George, very reassuring.”

“Always welcome, love. Now come on, it’s fucking freezing. You can cry about being in love inside.”

As George starts to lead you back inside, you hear Matty’s voice echoing out towards you.

“Y/N? George? You guys out here? You’ve been gone for ages.” Panic pulses through you as Matty’s voice fills the smoking area.

You’re still glued to George when Matty stumbles onto you both. He looks so worried, distressed. And then he looks confused. Confused why you’re crying, why you’re clinging to George like your life depends on it.

“Yeah, yeah we’re out here. Jus’ having a chat.” George says, rubbing your back with one hand and wiping away your smudged mascara with the other.

You smile gently at Matty, not quite able to meet his eyes. You’re embarrassed, there’s really no other words for it. No excuses, no nothing, the man you’re crying your eyes out about has just wandered in on you doing it. And where do you go from there?

“Y/N? What’s going on, sweetheart? Why you crying so hard?”

He placed a hand on your check, wiping at the bottom of your eyes with his thumb. Fuck sake, your eyes begin watering again (not that they ever stopped). You don’t want to have this conversation. No one wants to have this conversation. George especially doesn’t want to be in the middle of said conversation.

“I’m Okay, Matty.”

He looks sceptical - he knows you too well for this.

“Honestly, Matty, really, I’m okay.”

Lying straight through your teeth to Matty is a fully developed talent at this stage in your life, but you just don’t have the conviction tonight. He tries to meet your eyes again. but you can’t get them off your shoes. You hear him sigh. Shame burns in you - since when couldn’t you spew shit at Matty to keep him on the wrong track?

“Darlin’… Come on, you think I don’t know you well enough to know that’s not true?”

“Matty… Please, just leave it.”

“Okay, I can’t be arsed anymore. You two are getting left to sort this out.” George makes a move towards the door, and before you can process what just happened he’s back inside.

“Fuck.” You try and run after him, but Matty grips your wrist.

“Y/N, what the fuck is going on? Why are you crying and why are you lying to me about it, Darlin’?”

His face is so gentle. His grip on your wrist has loosened but he hasn’t let go. Curls falling in his eyes, fingers on your pulse. It’s too much. It’s too much. And then his other arm snakes around your waist and you can’t do it anymore. Your chest is so tight it might combust. And your face is so hot in the cold London weather that it burns. After an eternity, you meet his eyes.

“I… I can’t… I can’t, Matty. I can’t.”

The grip tightens, he pulls you closer.

“Come on, darlin’, use your words.”

“Oh fuck off, Matthew.” You half sigh, half giggle.

“Use ‘em, come on, use ‘em. Why don’t you talk to Matty about it?”

You laugh gently, watching as his face breaks out in a smile. God he’s so pretty. His hand is still cradling your check, thumb gently gliding over your skin. You don’t want to use your words. You don’t want to talk about this at all.

“Y/N?”

“I’m fine, really. You can go back to flirting with the borderline high schooler.”

It comes out meaner than you wanted it to, and you watch as Matty’s face falls. Fuck. So much for not having this conversation.

“Her? That’s what this is about? A fan I spoke to for less than five minutes?”

You try to move away from him, your cheeks burning red from the embarrassment - like a child caught with its hand in the cookie jar. But his grip on your wrist and waist tightens and he pulls you back in.

“Don’t make me do this Matty. I mean it. Please.” Tears well in your eyes, this could be it. This could be the last time Matty ever holds you like this, ever winds you up to stop you from crying. You don’t want it to end. How could you ever want this to end.

“Y/N, are you seriously jealous of a fucking 18 year old? Do you think I’d do that to you? Really? Come on, Darlin’ use that pretty head of yours.”

You’re too busy trying not to let the tears drop that you almost don’t catch the look of sheer panic in his eyes. It stops you in your tracks. Why does he look panicked? Why would he look panicked? Your heart races.

“Matty?”

“Yes, darlin’?”

You’re so close to each other you’re basically breathing the same air. His hand around your waist has been holding yours, your other hand has just been dangling at your side since you didn’t know what to do with it. You know what to do with it now; you bring it up to the hand he has on your cheek, closing your fingers over the top of his.

“What exactly would I need to use my pretty head to figure out?”

“Fuck sake…”

“Come on, darlin’, use your words.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah - fucking c’mere.”

You would’ve laughed at him if you had time (and if you hadn’t been so shocked), but his lips latch onto yours before you can think about anything else. He’s so gentle with you, the hand that was on your waist comes up into your hair. He grips it softly, smiling to himself as you moan quietly.

Before you know it, it’s over. He pulls away from you, but he’s still so close you can hardly look at his face properly.

“I fucking hate you.” You sigh.

“Think that kiss would say otherwise, sweetheart.”

“Matthew, mate, honestly get fucked.”

“Waited 15 years but can’t wait another couple hours? My, my, my.”

“Will you fuck off?” You laugh, not meaning a single syllable of it.

“Never, darlin’. Stuck with me now.”

He kisses you softly again, smiling sweetly at you as he pulls away.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

#matty healy x reader #matty healy x y/n #matty healy x you #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #the 1975 #haven’t written fic in a hot minute won’t lie #uh been at this one since like july so i hope you enjoy? #my writing

[websterss]

𝐍𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐑𝐘 — 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃  

𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓: Hi could I request an Anthony Lockwood x reader where after a particularly hard case reader gets hurt protecting Lucy Lockwood fumes and they both argue for a while because the reader insists she did the right thing and Lockwood just yells out “I can’t lose you! Don’t you get it? I love you.” And the reader just stops yelling pulls him into a hug tells him she loves him too and they just spend the night in each other's arms

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒): angst and fluff

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2,881

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader    

𝐀/𝐍: Hope you enjoy it!

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

You didn’t know what brought you more discomfort. The aching burn of your open wound or the eery silence that fell over the car ride back to the apartment. Your eyes fell upon each individual member, trying to grasp what each was feeling at that moment. Lucy was slumped against the seat, eyes watching the buildings and road flood past as the car moved. You assumed she was neutral, perhaps thankful as one being saved could get. You turned your head to watch as George fiddled with the zipper of his jacket. He too avoided the deafening lack of noise within the car but visibly seeing his shoulders tensed up had you assuming he didn’t want to disrupt the peace, wanting it to last a little longer. Though you didn’t mind it that much. You were grateful for the silence. Taking advantage of it because once the car stopped moving you’d all be graced with the burning rage that was radiating off of Anthony.

Now as for Lockwood. The rapid tapping of his foot and the very obvious vein popping against his forehead were enough to display his lack of impatience. He’d bolt the second he saw the steps of the apartment. You assumed as much since you were the cause of such smoke practically fuming out of his ears. The dreaded scolding and berating was something you weren’t at all looking forward too, but you very much expected it to happen. You of all people tonight did not hesitate to put your life on the line for the sake of the others. Preferably in Lucy’s case. Almost on the verge of being pummeled had it not been for the shove your gave her. She graciously thanked you with tears spilling past her waterline, scolding you for such rash behavior, all within the time span that you felt something pierce your abdomen. The visitor having thrown sharp objects your way. It hardly hurt the more you thought about it. Though you feared that that wasn’t entirely a good sign especially since blood seeped through your not so white shirt. At least you came out heroic! That had to count for something right? Right?!

You flinch as you, Lucy, and George walk in after Lockwood who had burst in. The swing of the door collided harshly with the wall creating a dent. You could hear as more doors slammed against their thresholds, causing a series of flashbacks to flood your mind. None worth remembering. None you wanted to flee your mind instantaneously.

“Maybe I should go talk-“ Lucy begins.

“No, he’s mad at me…I think it’d be wiser for me to face him.” You shake your head at Lucy.

“You sure?” You can see traces of worry within her.

“Yeah. I’m sure…I’ll be fine.” You force a smile hoping it’d look convincing. The last thing you wanted to do was worry her. You're aware of the fact she doesn't believe you, neither do you believe yourself since your own eyes were locked on the staircases that lead up to his bedroom. You can only imagine the amount of damage that he's caused in there.

You take a deep breath and climb up the stairs. You clutch at your side, trying not to gather more attention on yourself.

The closer you approach the doorway to his room, the louder the faint sounds of his voice and muffled smashing of objects grow. Anthony’s room was located across from the first landing. Thankfully the door itself remains closed. You can feel bits of tension and anger radiating from within the room to the point it’s almost palpable. You almost don't feel like knocking.

But you do knock, knowing the faster you got his confrontation created from your stupidity out the way, the quicker you could dress the wound. You raise your knuckles to his door, knocking three separate times. The noises from within the room cease and only silence lingers. The sounds of Anthony’s footsteps can now be heard, growing louder and louder.

It’s almost surreal how fast your mind goes from racing a thousand words a minute to an eerie and almost deafening silence. As his steps get louder so does your pounding heartbeat in your ears, a strange sinking feeling rising up your throat. You try your best to hold in the urge to feel like you’re about to throw up and instead stand your ground outside of his closed door. The doorknob jiggles.

The door hinges scream as the door opens. Anthony’s face appears in the doorway. You instantly notice how flushed and red his cheeks are. His brown eyes glare at you intensely. A vein pops in the middle of his forehead, anger radiating off of him like waves of heat.

"You going to let me in, or am I going to remain bleeding out here all night?"

“Don’t start with me.” He growls, his hands balling into fists before he steps aside and allows you to come in.

He opens the door wider, allowing you to enter the mess of a room. The walls are peppered with dents, along with the mirror by the front of the room as well as an antique clock. His nightstand has been flipped over and shattered onto the floor. The sheets of his bed are rumpled, and blankets are scattered around the room, you were surprised it wasn't worse off.

"Redecorating I see?" You breathe out. He glares at you before he turns around, and walks over to his dresser. He opens his drawers and grabs a medical kit.

“Shut it.” Anthony mutters as he sits down on the edge of his mattress.

He gestures for you to sit down, though you feel like doing so would only escalate the situation as you can already feel him glaring daggers in your direction. You feel yourself grow more weary by the second, you were pretty sure the adrenaline high from earlier was wearing off.

"I think you could do with a new lampshade. Maybe even a new color for the walls. I was thinking forest green but if you-" You ramble off, only pissing him off further on purpose.

“You’re infuriating. You know that?” The young man’s gaze narrows, his eyes boring straight into yours. "Never do as you're told..." He leans closer to inspect the wound, his brows furrowing into a scolding frown.

"I've had great influence." You muster a teasing smirk.

“Just for that, I should leave you here to bleed out.” Anthony mutters a dry remark before he leans in a little too close for your liking and gently begins lifting the hem of your shirt.

"You'd never gather the courage. You'd hate yourself for it. Don't worry your gorgeous head Tony a little wound like this can't get rid of me that easily." Your laugh turns into a groan as he presses a wet cloth with disinfectant pray on it.

A string of curses come out of your mouth before you can halt them. The smell of the disinfectant burns the inside of your nostrils, causing your face to screw up involuntarily. He presses a little harder with the cloth, not seeming phased by your reactions.

You can feel your cheeks heat up as you grit your teeth and try to hold back the pain and not squirm around.

"Well…that didn't cheer you up." You wince.

“It’s not really a happy occasion,” Anthony mutters as he continues to press the cloth against your wound.

The pain was still there, but you felt like it was diminishing a little. Or maybe you were just growing accustomed to it. All you could smell was the antiseptic burning into the wound.

"I'd have expected a smile of some sort at least." You shrug as you fall back on the bed.

He raises an eyebrow at you as he finishes cleaning out the wound and begins to sew it. “How could you be reckless?” You hear him ask with an exasperated tone.

It took every ounce of willpower for you not to flinch or make any sudden movements, the pain from your wound made it difficult to stay still, but if you moved around too much, he might apply more pressure than necessary.

"I prefer the term heroic…God!" You groan as the needle pierces through your skin.

“Heroism is being reckless, and you almost got yourself killed because of it.” He finishes stitching up the wound. You can see the slight relief on his face as he leans back on his heels.

He then places your right hand over his so he can press down onto the wound. You almost let out a moan when he does this, the sharp pain sending a jolt through you all over again. You try your best not to react to it.

"A-Alright, next time, it's Lucy's turn." You roll your eyes.

“There shouldn’t be a next time.” He snaps back, but the pain he sees in your eyes makes him pause. His eyes quickly soften a little and he removes his hand from where he previously pressed it down. “How’s it feeling?” His eyes search yours for any sign of discomfort.

"Like I've been stabbed." You deadpan.

He can’t help but let out a dry scoff before he lets out a tired sigh. “That tends to happen when you throw yourself in front of someone.” His eyes shift back to your wound just to make sure it’s fully closed up. "Seriously, do you need anything from me, and don’t give me a sarcastic remark.” He adds as an afterthought.

"I-I need you not to be angry with me…" You struggle to sit up. His face falls as he goes to stand up. "Anthony please!"

He pauses for a moment as he watches you try to sit up. His face is still lined with frustration. The anger within his eyes lingers.

“You nearly gave me a heart attack.” He asks as he helps you gently sit up. "I heard Lucy scream, and it felt like the world stopped. How could you be so stupid!"

"Stupid? I was saving our friend!" You snap.

“By recklessly jumping in front of a visitor!” Anthony shouts. “You could’ve died if it managed to get the drop on you. You could’ve been possessed if it had turned out to be a Poltergeist. And don’t even get me started about what would’ve happened if it were to ghost-lock you. You’d have been gone before we even managed to reach you.”

"I'm fine though, nothing happened!"

“Nothing happened?” Anthony asks incredulously. He repeats louder as he looks down at you. “You got stabbed! You lost a fair amount of blood. “Nothing happened?!” He throws his hands up, trying not to show the intense worry he is feeling. Nothing happened?!” He snaps, his voice cracking. “And the fact that you’ll just say so, so calmly?!”

"Yes nothing more- God what do you want from me? I was only trying to save her-"

“I can’t lose you! Do you not understand that? I love you.” Anthony pauses, staring at you as the anger fades from his eyes, his gaze shifting to the ground. He’s now at a complete loss, not knowing what to say. He wants to be angry at you for being foolish and reckless, but seeing the way you’re looking down as if you feel regretful, makes it difficult.

"You love me?" Your voice cracks.

“I love you. The thought of losing you is unimaginable.” Anthony whispers. It’s the first time he’s ever uttered those three words directly to you. As if this whole argument were simply a ploy for him to finally admit it. "Is that okay?"

You can't muster your laughter. You close your eyes in disbelief at his silly question. "Just as long as it's okay for me to love you too?"

“You’ve always been so annoyingly good at getting under my skin and turning my questions around, but this one time…I’m okay with it.” He replies. It’s a strange sensation. To feel the weight of the words slip off his tongue. To finally admit all those stupid little arguments you always have meant something. "More than okay with it." He breathes out.

"Good. I'd have been very upset if you didn't think so." A smile grows on your lips.

Anthony stares at you, his eyes searching yours. He wants to get closer to you, to kiss you, to pull you onto his bed, to never let go. All the things his stupid heart and brain are telling him to do, and yet there’s this immense feeling of hesitation.

He knows what this means for both of you. He knows what happens next. But he can’t seem to bring himself to do it, to take the first step. The fear of rejection is making him feel foolish by this one moment of hesitation, and he knows he’s got to get rid of this insecurity.

“Stop it.” He mutters as he reaches down to caress your cheek with his hand. “I’m supposed to be the one angry with you.”

"I don't think you're capable of remaining angry for so long…" You lean into his hands.

He lets out a small breath. “No, I don’t think I am,” Anthony whispers. He’s got to be close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath as he leans in closer.

Anthony’s heart starts to speed up at the idea that this one single motion could change everything between them. He lets his fingers trace from your cheek down to your jawline, trailing softly along your skin. His body leans forward ever so slightly until his nose almost touches yours. He wants this moment to last forever. To freeze time and have you right here with him.

But instead, all he can do is whisper a soft, hopeful, “Please.”

You spare him the wait and tug him closer by his locks.

His eyes widen when you finally take the initiative. He brings his other hand to your other cheek and cups it as you pull him in. Before he knows it, your lips are pressed together in a heated kiss. Your bodies mold together as you both press close against each other. The kiss becomes intense, and all he can think about is the heat in his stomach, and how the moment feels too good to be true.

You're too lost in the kiss, you forget the reason why he was angry to begin with. Yet when your stomach brushes against his own and before you know it, you wince, pulling back gently from his lips.

Anthony notices the sudden change in your demeanor. He pulls back with a concerned expression on his face. Your pained reaction is enough to pull him out of the passion-filled moment.

"Slow." He breathes out and rests his head against yours. He raises a hand to touch the outskirts of your wound as if he needed a reminder. "We need to go slow about this until you're all better."

"I don't think I can wait that long." You shook your head.

"You'll have to." He replies. He knows it's not fair, that you have to wait for something that he so desperately wants too. "I don't want to risk the wound opening back up." He adds, hoping you'll understand.

"I know…" You look back up at him.

He stares at you for a moment more, his eyes scanning your face as if he wants to remember every single detail before he pulls away from you. He gives a gentle smile before brushing his thumb against your face, and letting his fingers brush through your hair. He leans in to place a kiss on your forehead, the softest kiss he’s given you yet. "How about we exchange kisses for some much-needed sleep?" He smirks.

You hadn't even fully registered the toll and lack of energy you were experiencing. That was evident. The adrenaline high from earlier was wearing off, and you were now experiencing the aftereffects.

“Sleep will do us both some good.” He breathes in deeply, closing his eyes and allowing his hand to drift down to your neck which he rubs softly with his thumb. You can already feel your body start to relax, but you can’t fight the tiredness building up inside you anymore. “After the whole fiasco, nearly losing you, I'd like to simply hold you.” Is all he mutters.

"I'd like that…" You sigh as he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you closer to his chest. It’s not long till you pull away.

You toe off your shoes and jacket, then allow him to lead you onto his bed.

Anthony pulls the blanket over him and you both, making sure you're warm. His arm wraps firmly around you as he holds you close so that you are completely cradled in his embrace. All the tension from the fight having faded away by now, replaced with a deep sense of security and peace.

You feel your body relax into his as your eyelids grow heavier and heavier. You feel yourself start to slip, slowly drifting off into oblivion as Anthony pulls you even closer, the warm breath of sleep drifting between you both. The last thing you feel is a sweet kiss pressed against your temple.

#anthony lockwood #anthony lockwood imagines #anthony lockwood imagine #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood x fem!reader #anthony lockwood oneshot #writings by juls #my gif

[bjtch-craft]

"I'm a Rockstar Babe"

Todd Ingram X Bottom Male! Reader

☆ Summary: [Name] reunites with an old high-school friend turned rockstar things take a turn when they restart their old high-school ways.

☆ NSFW

☆Request: Yes or No

☆ Word count: 2,836

☆Genre: Angst to Smut (Kinda)

☆Warnings: Smut, degradation, manipulation (kinda, tbh I just tried making him cocky but rereading it it sounds like bro is manipulating), Bl♡wjobs, slapping, just douchy rockstar things, spitting (he's one of those ppl)

☆Authors note: Dude, I rewatched the movie and reread the novels, and why is Todd so mf fine like WHAT? And why are there no stories about this man? Anyways enjoy!! (P.s this has been in my drafts for like 2 months now and I've never finished editing it for some reason...)

Also look at the comic version of him like WHAT A CUTIE like yeah sure he's arrogant, narcissistic, uncaring, and may or may not be a pathological liar, and a walking red flag but like that red looking a little orange so??? PRAYING SOME OF YALL READ THIS!!

Did this count as being a groupie? No. It's not like I'm some obsessed super fan like Joseph I mean for fucks sake I knew Todd in high school [Name] thought as he lay on the mattress of the cheap motel room waiting for Todd to get out of the shower.

10:15 P.M. - some time earlier

[Name] was shoved and pushed around by the hundreds of thousands of fans who had gathered to watch the band play. The band in question was none other than The Clash at Demonhead. [Name] new one of the members (while technically two if you count Envy but they didn’t know each other. They were more of acquaintances really.) Todd Ingram who he was close friends with. Really close.

He'd given him head a couple of times (and slept with him too) but that didn't mean anything to them (yes it did.) it was what Todd considered a "bro-job" whatever the fuck that was. But that's not important (yes it is) what is important is how quickly their friendship ended after he got with Envy. They tried to keep in touch but after the band blew the absolute fuck up he cut ties with him.

Did it hurt? Yes. A lot. But [Name] didn't let it get to him he still supported Todd even if Todd himself didn't know it. [Name] bought every CD, vinyl, and cassette tape, and got tickets to most shows. He even tried to get backstage passes to rekindle his relationship with Todd but the prices were far out of his price range.

There have been times when for a quick second he'd seen Todd after a show or two and waved to him or said a quick word but he didn't recognize him. Which also hurt. How can you not recognize someone you spent almost TEN YEARS of your life with? But [Name] was determined to catch up with his best friend so after pulling a couple of night shifts and saving up some money he... still didn’t have enough.

10: 50 P.M.

"Todd's so hot!"

"Jesus Envys even hotter in person!"

"Why's that chick got a robotic arm?"

These are just some of the things [Name] heard throughout the event which was on the verge of ending.

12:10 A.M. - Later

The concert was over and [Name] pushed and shoved his way out of the venue and quickly rushed towards the back of the building looking for the band.

"Come on please don't tell me I missed them!"

His shoes thudded against the gravel, and as he rounded the corner a gate came into view.

"No. No, no, no, no!"

The gate door was slid open. How safe right?

"Envy? Do you wanna get a bite to eat or something?"

[Name] stopped for a moment as he saw Todd standing there his guitar case in hand talking to Envy. He took a deep breath and stepped through the gates. Fuck?

"T-todd?"

Todd turned to look at him a look of shock and anger upon his face.

"Who the hell let you in" Todd asked as he stepped closer to [Name] his voice coming off as aggressive as his eyes and hair started to glow.

"N-no one the gate was open."

"So you just snuck in?"

"I'm [Name], [First name], [Last name] we went to high school together. Remember?"

Todd's eyes and hair stopped glowing as his hair drifted back down in front of his face.

"You're kidding?!"

Todd dropped his guitar case and ran up to [Name] his tough guy rockstar persona shedding completely. He threw his arms around [Name] and pulled him into his chest. [Name] could feel the heat rising to two places as his face was smushed into Todd's rather large pecs.

"Todd you're squishing me..." [Name] said his voice muffled.

"Sorry!" He pulled away. "Jesus it's been a long time since we've seen each other... I'm a Rockstar!"

"I can see that!"

"Todd, what the fuck is going on," Envy asked?

Todd turned to look at them wrapping his arm around [Name's] waist. "This is [Name] from high school! He's my best friend remember?"

"While to me he looks like a fucking groupie! Let's go" Envy replied.

"I'm not a groupie..."

"Do you think he can come back to the motel with us?"

"No."

"Find some other cheap motel to fuck in," The Bionic arm bitch said.

"He's not a groupie and we're not gonna fuck! He's my friend and I wanna catch up with him!"

"Find. Another. Motel." Envy said the tone of her voice showed her annoyance more than anything.

12:30 A.M.

And they did find a cheap motel in an extremely unsafe part of town. Fits the stereotype, huh? A rockstar takes one of his fans to a cheap rundown-looking motel just to get it in.

[Name] once again was hugging Todd but this time was looking up at him.

"I'm so sorry for ghosting you [Name]."

"It's fine."

Todd's hands traveled down [Name's] back and reached his ass and groped it firmly, making [Name] let out an involuntary yelp. He pushed Todd off of him, causing the blonde boy to let out a laugh.

"What's the matter [Name] just like old times!"

"Todd aren't you dating Envy or something?"

He shifted his weight on his feet annoyingly.

"I'm a Rockstar babe we don't date," Todd said cockily.

"Oh?"

"I'm gonna hop in the shower. I know I reek of sweat... care to join me?"

"Smooth Todd.... real smooth."

He winked at [Name] and waltzed into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. After a minute or two he heard the shower go on.

Did this count as being a groupie? No. It's not like I'm some obsessed super fan like Joseph I mean for fucks sake I knew Todd in high school [Name] thought as he lay on the mattress of the cheap motel room waiting for Todd to get out of the shower.

"Do I wanna do this... again?"

The first time [Name] and Todd ever did anything together was on his eighteenth birthday. They were both unbelievably drunk, and both were bored lying on Todd's bed in silence. One of them now and then would say something, and they would have a short conversation.

"H-heyyy~ [Name] can I ask you for a favor," Todd asked his words coming out slurred.

"Yeah- hic! What'sss ~'s up?"

"Do you think you could um... s-suck me off?"

"Why?"

"Well, I'm one drunk! And two horny as fuck~! So can you?"

"You know what fuck it! You are my best friend!"

[Name] slid his basketball shorts off and then his boxers and grabbed at his length.

"I've never done this before so um... bear with me~."

Todd nodded his head a goofy grin on his face. "Do it as if someone's doing yours."

[Name] took him into his mouth slowly going down inch by inch the girth was almost too much to handle. Almost.

But that was years ago. They were two dumb eighteen-year-olds who were just helping each other out. But [Name] didn't feel that way anymore... but reminiscing on their old days made [Name] slowly begin to get hard in the shorts Todd had given him.

[Name] rubbed himself through the fabric and pushed down on it, making him release a soft moan. He needed Todd he didn't realize how badly he did until right then and there. The door opened to the bathroom, and [Name] quickly through the blanket over his lap.

Todd walked out with just a towel around his waist, his bulge catching [Names] eye as well as his body, which was still wet and glistened in the light.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting another pair of boxers, I forgot to bring them into the shower..." Todd looked at [Name] and noticed the tent that was forming underneath the blanket. "Aw, are you happy to see me like this again, baby?"

"What! No!"

"Come on..." He said huskily. The cockiness was back. "I heard you moan... were you thinking of the times I fucked you? The times you begged me to fill you up? The times I came on that pretty face of yours?"

[Name] could feel his cock growing harder with each question.

"N-no" [Name] whimpered out.

Todd walked to the side of the bed grabbed [Name's] hand and placed it on his groin.

"You miss my fat cock don't you," He asked his voice sounding oddly humiliating.

"I don't have to say anything."

Todd started to move his hips grinding his bulge against the palm of [Names] hand.

"Todd we can't... you have a girlfriend."

"I told you we rockstars don't really - truly date, and if anything, it's just another bro-job, remember?"

[Name] pulled his hand away and sat up and using both hands opened Todd's towel up causing his cock to pop out and slap against his happy trail.

"Fuck~," [Name] whispered out.

[Name] reached out and pumped his cock twice.

"Yeah that's it~ I know you fucking missed it haven't you?"

[Name] let go of Todd's cock and adjusted his position so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Todd backed up a little.

"Please don't like- hurt me that much. Please?"

Todd chuckled and ran his hand through his wet hair.

"You sweet dumb thing, you know I can't promise that."

[Name] grabbed Todd's cock once more and spat on it and stroked him off spreading the saliva over his cock.

"I haven't done this in a long time... so I'm a little rusty."

Todd smiled down at him. The grin was a mixture of amusement and humiliation.

[Name] placed the tip on his tongue and licked it gently before wrapping his lips around it and slowly going down on it.

[Name] couldn't lie he truly did miss this. Not only did he enjoy it, but it honestly made them closer as friends.

[Name] gagged on the base as he looked up at Todd with tearful eyes.

"Aww you look so cute with my big cock in your mouth," Todd said softly his voice coated in lust as he gently patted [Name's] cheek.

[Name] began to slowly come off his cock before Todd placed a hand on the back of his skull and slammed him back down causing him to gag and for drool to pour out of the sides of his mouth.

"Mmm-hmm-agh." [Name] groaned out.

Todd pulled his cock out of the boy's mouth and slapped it on either side of the guy's cheek.

"You took it so well [Name]~."

[Name] looked up at Todd with innocent eyes, his tongue sticking out a little as he gasped for air.

"Jesus you look so fucking gorgeous."

"I-I think you bruised the back of my throat!"

Todd grabs [Names] chin as he angles his head straight aligning his cock with [Names] lips.

Todd spat on his cock (and on [Names] face) and slammed it down [Names] throat before pulling out. [Name] stuck out his tongue and licked a stripe down his cock.

"You're such a fucking slut baby. I bet you've been craving my cock since you heard about our band haven't you?"

[Name] nodded his head embarrassingly. Todd placed a hand on the back of [Names] head and leaned in, planting a kiss on his lips as his hands traveled down his body. His hands reached the bottom of the boy's shirt and began to pull it up over his head, breaking the kiss in the process.

Todd pushes [Name] down onto the bed by his chest and crawls on top of him, attacking his neck, causing [name] to let out a soft moan. Todd kisses down his neck while unbuckling [Names] belt and gently pulls them off along with his boxers.

"I don't reckon you have a condom do you?"

"I have one in my wallet in my left pocket," [Name] says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Todd grabs [Names] jeans off the floor and pulls out the condom from the wallet before discarding them back onto the floor.

Todd rips the wrapping of the condom off with his teeth and slides the rubber on. He places [Bames] legs on his shoulders and lines himself up at his entrance.

[Name] squeezes his eyes shut as Todd pushes himself into him. A sudden wave of pain and pleasure washes over him, causing him to grab onto the sheets, twisting them in his hands. A soft whimper escapes his lips as Todd continues to push deeper into him.

"Shit- Todd, you're so fucking- ngh~ big!" [Name] whimpered out, causing Todd to look down at him with a cocky grin.

Todd had pushed himself into the other boy and slowly began to pull back out, only to slam back into him, which earned him a low groan.

"Does that feel good?"

[Name] nodded his head and let out a whimper. Todd began to rock his hips in and out of him, the tip occasionally brushing against his prostate. His thirst got faster and quicker he reached down and grabbed [Name's] hands and placed them above his head.

Todd began pounding into [Name]. The sound of skin against skin filled the room as well as screams of pleasure from both boys.

"Ugh~ F-fuck! You're going to har-!" [Name] wasn't able to finish his sentence as Todd delivered a gentle (but still hard) slap across his face.

"Don't tell me what the fuck to do!" Todd growled out.

[Names] cock twitched as pre-cum drizzled down his cock causing a moan to escape from his lips.

"Don't tell me you're into this shit you slut?"

"S-s-shut up Todd~"

Todd smirked and began rocking his hips.

"How bad do you want it?"

"W-what?" [Name] stuttered.

"I can pull out right now and leave and not let you finish you."

"Please don't~ I'll do anything!"

"Then admit it.'

"What?"

"Admit you're a filthy whore" Todd said his voice thick with lust.

"I'm not going to- ah~!"

Todd pulled out of [Name] leaving him feeling empty and somehow even more fucking desperate.

"Todd please" [Name] begged.

"Then say it."

"I-I’m a whore okay? Is that what you want to hear from me? I'm a fucking slut for you okay?!"

Todd looked down at [Name] with a cocky grin.

"Good boy."

Todd leaned back over [Name] and placed a soft kiss on his lips before pushing himself back into him. He wrapped his hand around [Name's] throat and began pounding into him. The sounds of skin against skin filled the room once again.

Todd raised his hand and brought it across [Names] face with enough power to cause a sting of pain leading [Name] to let out a dry moan.

"I can't believe your into this shit!" Todd said with a cheesy grin.

"Shut up!" The boy underneath him whined out.

Todd smirked and removed his hand from [Names] neck and grabbed him by the waist and slowed his thrusts.

"What are you- agh~!"

Todd pulled [Name] into him driving his cock deeper into him pushing past his prostate. [Names] jaw dropped as the sudden feeling causing a high pitched moan to erupt from his throat. Todd took this opportunity and grabbed his jaw holding it open and dipped his thumb into his mouth.

"Don't close your mouth got that?"

[Name] replied with a whimper as Todd's thurst became annoyingly slow as a string of spit slowly began to fall from his lips and landed in [Names] mouth.

[Named] closed his mouth after Todd gave him a look that practically yelled at him, too. Todd's slow thrust became faster and faster. Todd wrapped his hand around [Name's] dick and began jerking him off as [Name] placed his palm at the back of Todd's head.

"I'm so close!" Todd groaned out as his rhythm began to go out of sync.

His movements became harder and harder as he felt himself getting closer and closer to finishing.

"W-where- fuck~ where do you want it?" He moaned out.

"On me..."

Todd placed a hand behind [Names] head as his thurst became sloppy he spat once again at [Name] the salvia covering his face before pulling out and jerking himself off.

"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!"

With one final moan ropes of cum erupted from his cock covering [Names] body in white ropes. Todd pumped [Name's] cock for a minute before he came their cum mixing on his stomach. Todd scooped up some of his cum off of the boy's body with his index finger and popped it into [Names] mouth.

"How's it taste?"

"Salty... can you get me a towel?"

1:35 AM

[Name] lay on the cheap hotel's mattress, his head on Todd's chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Hey, have you ever thought of being a roadie?'

"A what?"

"A roadie helps the band set up... you could be one for us so we could keep in touch and..." He wrapped his hand around [Names] body and groped his ass "Have some more time to ourselves."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THIS MAN IS SO FINE ARGH. I NEED HIM SO BAD LIKE I WANT HIM TO FULLY REARRANGE MY INSIDES.

Authors note!!

Again, sorry for the break. School is still once again kicking my ass :) I do plan on writing more over Christmas break, but I do have like half-written stories in my drafts, so here are some of them. (Some of them have titles, but they are to be determined, so kill me or wtv) .

Darry Jenner x Male reader (Fluff)

Miguel Ohara x Male reader (Smut)

Chad Meeks x Male reader (TBD)

Simon Kalivoda x Male reader (Fluff)

#Spotify #scott pilgrim #todd ingram x male reader #brandon routh #i need this man so bad #scott pilgram vs the world #lgbtq #gay #todd ingram #todd ingram x reader

[netherfeildren]

Someone's Wife in the Boat of Someone's Husband .3

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Joel Miller x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Premature ejaculation 🤭; Thigh riding; Age gap; Angst

Rating: Explicit 18+

A/N: Chapter’s up early this week as I’ll be away this weekend :) Happy reading!

Word Count: 5.4K

Read on AO3

.3

We tell ourselves stories in order to live. 

Joan Didion, The White Album

He should stop staring. He’s going to freak you out. He’s aware of this…kind of. Actually, he’s not entirely sure he’s aware of anything right now – thinks that all the blood in his entire body might be concentrated at his dick at the sight of your bare, wet skin in the tiny, red bikini you have on. 

He’s worried he might be on the verge of a heart attack or something – something equally life threatening. After all, he is forty now, and forty year old men are very at risk for those kinds of things, or so he’s heard. This is almost targeted of you, if he really thinks about it. Why would you do this to him? Why are you trying to give him a heart attack? He doesn’t think he’s done anything to deserve this kind of punishment.

Joel knows he’s being obvious, that if he doesn't look away soon someone’s going to notice, but the day is hazy with bright heat and humidity, and he’s not in his right mind at the moment. Tommy’s already nudged him twice. But he thinks he’ll probably have to be dragged away kicking and screaming if someone wants to get him stop looking at you because Jesus fucking Christ. 

You’re playing in the water with Gerri and Sarah and Andrea’s girlfriend. Andrea’s laying out on a towel at the water’s edge, and his brother is right next to him, and his wife is… somewhere, he doesn’t know where, but anyone could notice, and for fuck’s sake his daughter is right there. He should not, should not, be sporting an erection at the sight of you right now. This is the most inappropriate time in all history to be turned on. He shifts on his heels, trying to adjust his hard cock as subtly as possible by tugging on the waist of his belt, but he hears Tommy snort beside him. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Joel says under his breath. 

“You’re so fucked, man.” He claps him roughly on the shoulder and goes to join the girls. 

Joel knows. He’s fucking aware. He’s fucked. He doesn’t think there’s anything he can do about it anymore. He knew the moment he ran back to his room last night to frantically jerk off in the restroom after your conversation. He’s extremely fucked. 

But all he can think about right now is that he would like to smell your hair, he would like to taste your skin again. 

Every time you jump or laugh or splash water at the girls, your tits bounce in the confines of that tiny, little bikini, and he’s left over here almost panting. He’s officially become the perverted old man ogling the twenty-something-year-old girl in her bathing suit. He can’t find it in himself to give a fuck, much less to stop. 

You are, undoubtedly, the most gorgeous thing he’s ever laid eyes on in his entire life. 

You bend down to listen closely at something Sarah’s saying to you, and the look in your eyes is so bright, filled with laughter and the most focused attention he’s seen his daughter receive in such a long time, that his throat goes tight and pinched for a second. 

You tilt your head, and the thick mantle of your hair slides over the slope of your bare shoulder, leaving it exposed. It’s a beautiful shoulder. He wants to lay a kiss on it, bite the edge of your clavicle, leave himself imprinted on your skin. 

Sarah’s chattering on and on, and as you throw your head back to laugh at something she says, the loveliest sound he’s ever heard, your eyes suddenly meet his, take in, what’s probably, his glowering stare. He doesn’t look away, he can’t. He doesn’t care anymore. He wants you to see him staring at you. He expects you to look away, to be angry or call him out for ogling you, to storm off. 

You do none of those things. He watches a swallow pass through your throat, your wide eyes on him. His dick gets harder, if possible. You’re looking back at him. You’re looking back at him. 

He wants you so badly. 

Your eyes flit back to Sarah, you smile again at something she says and pass a hand over her wet hair, nodding, but then your eyes come back to him. They’re almost smoldering in the sunlight, the heat in them calling to the heat he feels rising in his blood. His temples throb in tandem with his heart, he can feel his pulse in his entire body, and he thinks you might read the intensity in his gaze, in his countenance, because your eyes flutter shut, and he watches a shiver move through your body. You turn to say something to Gerri, and then you’re moving towards the bank and out of the water, gathering your towel and things. The cut of your bathing suit bites into the soft flesh of your ass when you bend for your things, and he takes a step forward. Gerri and Tommy have taken over playing with Sarah now, the two of you forgotten. You start to walk towards the house, and he’s going to follow you. He knows he is. He watches you make your way up the path, reach the sliding glass door, step into the shadowed interior. He waits a beat, another, another. He can’t help himself. He has to go after you. He has to find out if you want him to follow you.

He thinks you do. And then he’s moving. Following your path up the stone steps to the house, and slipping through the door into the dark interior. His gaze moves to the window towards where the cars are parked, Eva’s SUV is gone. Of course she’s left without saying a word, without telling Sarah where she was going. He doesn’t care about that right now. He moves towards the back of the house and your room, pauses once he’s outside your bedroom door, fingertips resting on the handle. 

He doesn’t think he’s ever wanted anything more, in the entirety of his life, than he wants to step through this door right now. It is a physical ache inside of him. 

And he thinks that if he doesn’t do this, he might die. 

His fingers press down on the handle, and he slips inside without knocking. You’d left the door unlocked. 

The room is shadowed when he steps inside. You’re on the other side of the bed, and he’s caught you just as you’re slipping a dress over your head — catches the peek of baby blue lace wrapped around your hips as the dress flutters down around your thighs. You jolt a little at the snick of the door and the click of the lock as he turns it behind him. He presses back against the door and lets his head thump against the wood as you turn to face him. 

Your dress is white, with a soft lace edge at the vee of the collar. He can catch the slight gleam of the water’s moisture still clinging to your limbs, even in the dim light of your bedroom. You’re not saying anything – he doesn’t think there’s anything that could or needs to be said in this space. The two of you have been expecting this, he thinks. It tastes of inevitability, of necessity. This was going to happen because it must happen, because it was always going to happen. 

You press back against the wall, mirroring his own stance, but he sees your fingers are knotted in the hem of your dress at your sides. It looks a little like you’re restraining yourself, like you’re holding on for dear life, and that fills him with the deepest sense of satisfaction – the idea that you too feel this desperate need to hold yourself back from this thing that you have to have … yeah. 

The two of you study each other for a second. He watches the slow rove of your eyes down his form – he hopes you like what you see, feels a small pinch of self consciousness in the space behind his ribs, too old, too weathered, but when your eyes come back up to meet his they flare bright with heat, and that’s it, he stalks towards you. He’s sure that the look in his own eyes must seem ready to devour because yours go all wide and doe-like, suddenly, a little like prey, and he knows he shouldn’t like that as much as he does, but the idea of you succumbing to him makes him harder than he’s ever been. 

You put a small palm up just as he’s about to reach you, holding it at the level of your belly, and just with that, he stops immediately. He watches the quick rise and fall of your chest, the slight quiver of the tops of your breasts peeking out above the white lace. He’s going to get his mouth on all that soft flesh, in just a second, and bite it. You take a slow deep breath, and then you lower that staying palm, and he’s on you. Big hand wrapping entirely around the delicate architecture of your jaw so that he can tilt your face up to his, other hand wrapping entirely around the back of your head. The small bowl of your skull fits entirely in his palm. 

He’s touching you, he’s touching you, he’s touching you.

He looks at you through his lowered lashes as he brings his mouth down on yours, and when he finally reaches you, when he finally feels the soft press of your lips against his, hears the tiny sound of your gasp as the two of you make that contact, he keeps his eyes slightly open. He needs to see this, he needs to bear witness to this moment, with eyes open. He thinks he hears himself let out a choked, almost pained sound. 

He has to hear the sound you make when you come for him. 

He holds you there for one second, and then opens his mouth to slot your full upper lip between both of his and sucks on the soft flesh gently. You moan for him at that, the sweetest fucking sound he’s ever heard in his entire life, and your mouth falls open, and then he’s licking inside of you, tasting the inside of your mouth, dragging his tongue behind your top teeth and angling your head back further to deepen the kiss, to devour you more fully. He steps closer, presses his front along the entire length of yours so your chests are smushed together, your tits pressed up against his hardness. Fuck, he thinks he goes slightly dizzy at the feel of you, at the sound of your next moan, wanton and ragged and all for him. You smell so good, like coconuts and suntan lotion and the midday heat.

Your hands come up to clutch at his hair, and the feel of your hands on him has the feeble thread of his control snapping completely. He feels a deep growl reverberate in his chest, and he slides his hand down the back of your neck and spine to wrap around your waist and hoist you up higher. You mewl for him, little fingers twisting and pulling at his hair. He slides his hand lower, clutches a handful of your lush ass to pull your pelvis into him, and he feels your thigh hitch against his hip as the two of you devour each other. Again, his hand slides down to wrap around the back of your leg while he eats at your mouth. He doesnt think either of you have taken a single breath since you first touched. His fingers dig harshly into your thigh, and he hitches it higher up against his hip, rolls the length of his cock against your soft center. Your head falls back at that and you moan, soft and drawn out for him. 

“Joel,” you gasp, “Joel, I don’t – I don’t – please, please–”

“I know, I know, baby. Fuck–” He wants this so fucking badly. He rolls the hot furl of your pussy onto his hard length, practically fucking you through your clothes. He can feel the searing heat of your core through his denim, and he licks a long, wet swipe up the delicate column of your throat, tilts your head back further with his uncompromising fingers wrapped around your jaw to get at the soft spot behind your ear. He has you caught and pinned here between the wall and his body like a butterfly, clutched in the grasp of his fingers – he does not plan to let you go. He slides his hand back up further to grip your ass. He can feel that the cut of your panties is high across your ass cheek, and he slips the tips of his fingers beneath the lace edge as he shifts so that he’s sliding his thigh between your legs and pressing his cock into your hip, still licking and sucking on your neck. 

“You’re gonna come on my thigh. Okay?” All you can give him is the warbled sound of his moaned name. He bends his head to bite sharply at your nipple over the soft material of your dress and you gasp, eyes flying open at that. “D’you hear me? You’re gonna ride my thigh ‘nd let me watch you come.”

“Yes – y– okay.”

He tightens his grip on your ass to slide you harder and faster against him. “Gonna hump my thigh, and let me watch that pussy get wet for me.”

“Oh, God. Joel–” Your eyes roll in your head, lashes fluttering at his words. He feels you bear down harder on his thigh, thinks he can almost feel the slick wetness of your cunt seeping through his jeans. 

“You’re wet, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” you moan. You press your face to the space beneath his jaw, and he can hear the stuttered gasping sounds of your breaths, feels the hot slide of your tongue giving the edge of his jaw wet, little licks, and then the gentle bite of your teeth at his pulse. Fuck, he’s going to come. Now, he’s going to come right now. 

He quickens the roll of your hips, slides his hand further beneath your panties, towards your center so that the tips of his fingers press over the cleft of your ass, applying pressure down towards your cunt, grinding your clit into his hard muscle, and you give a sharp gasp and shiver at that, press your face tighter to his neck. He feels a full body jolt snap through your spine and limbs, and he can feel the fucking slick wet of your pussy smearing against his finger tips. He presses his cock as tightly as he can into your hip and comes in his jeans, like a goddamn teenager. 

“Shit– shit, I– I–” He clutches at you more tightly at the same time that you wrap your arms fully around his neck, and it’s almost like you’re trying to climb him. Your entire frame trembles and shakes with the aftermath of your orgasm, your gasping sobs right at the shell of his ear. 

“That was so–” you breath, press a tiny kiss to his earlobe that has him growling, at risk of getting hard again already, “That was so – I don’t–” your voice cracks. 

“It’s okay,” he shushes, passes a palm over the back of your head and down to tangle in the ends of your hair. He grips the long strands and turns his head to bring them up to his nose and breathe in deeply. “It’s okay, you’re okay, baby.”

“Joel–” you gasp. He hates the way you say his name. It sounds too lovely – like the worst thing that’s ever happened to him “We shouldn’t–”

“Please, don’t say it yet,” he begs. “It’s okay… stop your trembling, sweetheart,” he soothes you. Your panting starts to settle at his continued petting and cooing. He has you hoisted so high he’s practically carrying you, one leg wrapped around his waist and the other dangling over the thick expanse of his thigh so that he can feel the soaking wet apex of your cunt at his belly. He hopes there’s a wet spot on his shirt. 

“It’s alright,” he says again and presses a long kiss to the hinge of your jaw, continues to stroke his hand from the crown of your head down to the base of your spine and back up, again and again, another kiss to the swell of your breast. “It’s okay, don’t get scared. It’ll all be fine,” he says, trying to keep you calm. He doesn’t want you getting worried or anxious. He’d never let anything bad happen to you. Even now, he knows this already. 

You pull back to look at him then, your big eyes wide and wet, long lashes clumped together. Your mouth is kiss swollen, and there’s a slight flush to your chin from his beard, a bright gleam in your eyes from your orgasm, messy hair. He made you look like this, debauched and just fucked. He wonders what he could make you look like if he actually fucked you for real, if he wedged his cock inside that tight cunt and made you come around him.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment – he loves the feel of you in his arms. The look in your eyes is almost shocked, but he leans forward slowly to press his lips to yours again, and you allow it. A soft noise hums out of you as your eyes flutter shut, and you let your neck fall back to open yourself to him. He kisses you slowly this time, licking languorous and deep into your mouth, savoring the sweet taste of you so that he might imprint it in his mind for later consideration. You taste so fucking good. You’re so soft, so pretty, smell so good. He wants to keep you forever. 

He gives you one more small kiss before slowly pulling back to set you down. Your bare feet touch the floor, and he cups the bends of your elbows to make sure you’re steady when he hears someone pass by on the other side of the closed door. He thinks it might be Gerri’s sister, calling her name, and you freeze at the sound, at the reminder of the others, as the reality of what the two of you have just done sets in.

Your eyes go wide, and you bring your hands up to cup your cheeks on either side of your face, your pinky fingers slotting over your mouth and pressing into your plush lips. 

“Oh, God–” you whisper, your eyes flutter closed, shuttering your horrified look away from him. “Oh, God. We – we shouldn’t have done that, Joel. That– we’re so–” You’re shivering now, and he moves to wrap his arms around you again, but you turn away from him quickly, spinning to face the wall and hug your arms across your chest to wrap over your shoulders. We shouldn’t have done that, we shouldn’t have done that, you whisper over and over. 

He places a palm on either side of your head, caging you between his arms and bends to press his mouth to your ear, you whimper, and he’s pretty sure it’s unconsciously, but you shift back slightly, pressing your back further into his chest. “Listen to me,” he whispers into your ear, your breathing is quick and overwhelmed, “Listen to me, you have nothing to worry or feel bad about, do you understand me? This was on me. I don’t want you anxious. I don’t want you feeling bad. This was all my fault.”

You shake your head, but he presses on. “Don’t say no, don’t disagree with me. Let this be what I say. It was my fault. Please, baby, I don’t want you upset about this, okay?” The thought of you worrying or feeling guilty about something that he’d come here looking for feels like a spear through the heart. He can’t bear it. 

A voice sounds in the hall again, and you jolt, skittish as a rabbit. He passes a soothing hand over the crown of your head again, and you turn your head slightly to look at him out of the corner of your eye, give him a small nod. “Can we talk later?”

“Y– yes, okay,” you stutter. He presses another kiss to the edge of your jaw, can’t help himself, and you turn your head more, like you also can’t help yourself, to give him your mouth. He kisses you, full and slow, just one more time. 

“Do you need anything? Can I get you somethin’?”

“No – I’m okay,” you say, turning back to face him. “I’m just going to–” you reach beneath your dress to pull your soaked panties down your legs. You grip the swell of his bicep to step one foot out of them and bring your other foot up to catch the dangling fabric from around your ankle. “Sorry–” you give him a shy look as your eyes meet his, and his mouth goes dry. He’s already fully hard again in the uncomfortably wet confines of his jeans. He needs to get out of these things, the cold, soaked fabric chafing against his overly sensitive skin. 

He nods, swallows, “We’ll talk later–” you nod also as you move towards the en suite. Depositing your ruined panties on the corner of the bed as you walk by, and as you turn to go into the restroom, and he moves towards the door to leave, he picks up the discarded, wet lace and pockets it. 

It’s his now. 

-

You brace yourself over the bathroom sink and stare at your face in the mirror. You’re not crying and it surprises you. The one thing you could always count on yourself for, was the promise of your readily available tears, at all times. Your mother liked to call you a weeper in a long line of weepers, and it was true. As much as you hated it, it was true. It has always been extremely easy to make you cry. If you were happy, angry, frustrated, anxious – anything. Your tears were a steady monument of your character, always, and it was tiresome and embarrassing and unavoidable. 

But you’re not crying now. As you take in the bright, feverish look on your face, your swollen mouth and just fucked hair – no matter that he hadn’t actually fucked you – you look like he had. There’s a mark from his beard burn on your chin, and you can see the angry marks around your jaw and throat from where he’d gripped you so hard, starting to settle in. The sight makes your dripping sex clench for more. You want more, and you think that there is a large part of you that feels his call like violence, and maybe you’ll try to say no next time, but you will likely not succeed. And that part of you also whispers that as much as you want to lie to yourself and say that this is wrong, that it goes against everything you’ve always been terrified of all your life, that it’s like everything your mother was – it’s also not. And, even more concerning, you don’t care nearly as much as you’d expected yourself to. And you also want to do all that and more with him, again and again and again. 

And as you take in your reflection in the mirror, you think that you’ve never looked more like your mother than you do in this moment. 

-

The only good thing about the situation you now find yourself in, wet panties, still, hours later, even after having put on new ones, and a tight and achey stirring low in your belly, your breasts heavy and sensitive – fuck, you’re a mess – is that you’d all be heading home in a few hours. You need to get away from him, immediately. You feel like a rabbit on the verge of flight, a savage and hungry predator fast on your heels. 

“What is that? Are those bruises?” Gerri says suddenly, from her spot across from you at the table. 

“What? No – where?” Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Just there… on your jaw?” She sets her fork down and reaches for you, gently brushes her fingers along the place where you know his marks lie against your skin. You didn’t think they’d become so noticeable so soon – it’s only been a few hours. “What are those?” she insists, “They look like finger marks–”

“Oh, I’m not sure… I hadn’t noticed. Maybe from when we were playing in the water. I don’t know,” you stutter out, rushed and panicked. 

“Gosh, honey,” she tilts your chin to the side. “They look like they’re going to bruise. Don’t they hurt?” Joel and his wife choose that exact moment to walk in, Sarah bursting in after them. 

“What’s happening?” Eva asks.

“Think we were too rough with her,” Gerri says, and you hear Joel splutter, “In the water. She’s got a bruise on her jaw.” 

Eva approaches and she hums low in her throat, “Look at that…” she says, “They look a bit like finger marks don’t they, Joel?”

“Can I get you anything? Ice or something?” he says as he lifts Sarah up into his arms.

“No, I’m okay. I hadn’t even noticed them… really guys. I’m alright.”

“Maybe you should get some ice on them,” Gerri says, concern in her eyes. “We shouldn’t’ve been playing so rough, honey. I’m sorry about that.”

You can’t help but shoot an anxious look at Joel, you’re sure you’re wearing your guilt like a blaring sign on your face. “You know, maybe I will get some ice.” You move to stand, and you see Joel step closer to you out of the corner of your eye, but he stops himself as you turn to flee into the kitchen.

-

As you walk down the hall, back towards your bedroom, a hand shoots out of one of the doorways and yanks you inside a dark room.

“Joel– someone’s going to see us,” you gasp. He turns you towards him, gently tilts your head back, his fingers whisper soft on your jaw. He clicks his tongue, his brow pulled down into a frustrated frown. The weak afternoon light trickles in through the curtains, and all you can take in are the shadows of his face, his features washed in the blue hue of the drapery. His strong brow, pulled low, his mouth, soft, enticing – dangerous. It’s a little like he’d been sculpted by someone who’d peered into your mind when you were being created, pieced together in the image of everything that could ever tempt you into weakness. “Was too rough with you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.” With your head still angled back he bends to press the softest of kisses to the sore skin, then runs his nose along the edge of your jaw to breathe you in. You can’t help your fingers from digging into his forearms, trying to pull yourself closer to him. The sensitive tips of your breasts brush against his hard chest, and a shiver wracks through you. You feel, suddenly, so cold, while he is so warm – the only source of warmth in the whole world, it seems like. You try and swallow the sound of his whimpered name that creeps up your throat, but it escapes anyways, warbled and pathetic. 

“I know,” he whispers into your ear. And you think that he really, really might know. You think he does understand. Whatever it is that’s happening here is undoubtedly happening to the both of you, and the realization of that is both a comfort and a threat, all at the same time. At least you aren’t alone in this, at least he is here with you, but his co-conspiracy makes it all the more dangerous, seductive, damning. 

You press yourself back, away from him. Wrapping your hands around the thick of his biceps to keep him held at bay. What a joke, you think, as if there’s anything you could actually do to restrain this man if he really set his mind to it. A butterfly attempting to subjugate a mountain. But he stills, lets you hold him where you like. 

“We can’t do this.”

“It feels a little like it’s already done, doesn’t it?” he says gently. And you know he isn’t trying to hurt you, but his words still feel like a bolt of fire zinging through your bones because he’s right, it does. It feels done, set in stone, unchangeable. For how could you have been touched by him now, and never again experience it? You don’t think anyone in all the world would have the strength to stay away from something like this, no matter how hard they tried or how far they ran.

“You don’t understand–” and you think you sound like you’re begging, but you aren’t sure who it is you’re directing your supplication at, nor what it is that you’re pleading for. 

“What is it that I don’t understand, sweet girl?”

Your eyes flutter shut, and you finally remember your promised admonishment from before, “Please, don’t call me that.”

He says your name softly – a terrible sound. “What don’t I understand?”

How to tell him, without spilling your blood at his feet? How to tell him that you had been put together wrong and disjointed and gnarled and that you’d been raised by people who weren’t right and who had, in turn, spawned you not right as well? There was no way to do so with your dignity intact and your shame still hidden. “I need… I need to protect myself,” you say slowly. “I– I’ve been hurt before. I–” This is a humiliating truth to confess. Your words are stuttered, your breath coming in anxious little huffs. He sweeps his thumb over the wing of your cheek, it’s alright, take your time, he whispers, and it makes you feel incredibly stupid and childish that his words settle the fluttering of your heart, just a little bit. “I am easily hurt,” you say, “And it’s always been– been difficult for me to talk about how I feel, and ask for the things I need, and that makes it easy for people to– to– I guess, be careless or take advantage of that part of me – even if it’s unknowingly or accidentally. And I think I just– I just wish that–” you have to look away from him, you can’t say all this while you’re looking at him. A frustrated sound claws out of you, “I don’t know… that someone would find me, someone that would be gentle, that they could just tell – just know that I need to be handled with care sometimes. And I know, I know it’s my own thing, my own issue, and that a person should be able to just ask for the things they need, set boundaries – that maybe I need to grow up or be stronger. I know it’s a lot to ask of someone else, or too much, but still – still I wish I didn’t have to ask. I wish someone would just know. I wish someone could know me well enough – so well – that they just knew what I needed without me having to ask for it.”

He’s quiet for a moment as he studies you, and then: “It’s not too much to ask.” He shakes his head as you start to object, to explain that you know it is, that you know you need to grow up, develop tougher skin, a stronger backbone. “It isn’t,” he says firmly. 

His eyes are so deep and so warm – understanding. You can see that he understands you. “I’m asking you to not make me ask right now, Joel,” you say quietly. “We need to stay away from each other. You’re married and I can’t– I need to protect myself. I can’t do this with you, I cannot become someone who gets between a marriage.” 

-

He wants to argue, to make you understand that there is no marriage, no relationship in the real sense of the word beyond a title, beyond a piece of paper, to get between. That what you and he have here, now, is greater, more meaningful, realer, than anything else he’s ever experienced in his entire life, even now, even this soon. He knows already, he can already feel it, but he can also see the devastation, the desperation in your eyes. And so he has no other choice but to give you this, to give you what you need. All he can do is swallow his protests, force himself to nod, and accept your rejection. 

Chapter .4

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

#someone's fic #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller/you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us fic #tlou fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

[lutewife]

"Hate so passionate it blooms"

Chapter one - First Extermination

1752 words, fem!reader, reader is in hell for a reason, sinner!reader, reader is oblivious, canon divergence here and there, no NSFW in this chapter, angst, toxic yuri, canon-like humour

Crossposted on AO3: @YuriCameo

Warnings: blood, murder and all... It's extermination, duh. Nothing too bad though.

It all started years ago...

It was the time of the first extermination, since you opened your shop.

Noone in the pride ring liked it, obviously. And you just happened to live in it, being a sinner - flesh and blood. Your only source of income, your own sex shop, was there too. Very successful one to boot, since in Hell, let's just say, people really like these kind of things. And as weird as it was, your shop was top notch, being the most successful one in the Pride Ring. You swore you wouldn't leave it to destruction under any circumstances, because, well, you needed that money.

And you kept your word. Now you were standing in front of your shop, scanning the area and waiting for inevitable. Your employees, moved by your dedication, have also agreed to defend it. Ah, the deep connection between a demon and their sex shop. Truly touching.

You gripped your weapon tightly and, for who knows which time, looked around with watchful eyes. Turning to your employees, you managed to make a shaky smile appear. Someone in these difficult times must fake confidence, otherwise the fight is already lost - it was one of your beliefs and you had to fulfill it.

- It's okay, girlies. I don' see anythin' strange happening - you said trying to lift up the mood. -Y'know, maybe they were bluffing afterall! M-Maybe nothin's gonna happen! - you added, when you didn't receive any reaction from your employees, trying to convince yourself. Fearful faces of the other demons didn't went unnoticed by you, but you tried to ignore it for your own good.

Well, they were right to be afraid. Afterall, they were employees of a sex shop, not some angel hunters, for fucks sake! And the only person with some fighting knowledge was you, their boss who was almost shitting her pants under pressure and who probably didn't know shit about killing angels. Absolutely excellent position they were in.

Just as you were to say another one of your reassuring quotes again, it began. Everyone absolutely paralyzed, along with you, but you were the first to actually get yourself together.

- It's a-okay guys, there's no need to pani... - you didn't even finish the sentence. Most of your employees were already running for their own lives, screaming mercilessly, leaving everyone else and your shop behind. So much for teamwork.

You groaned and shot your middle finger at them.

- HOPE YOU KNOW, Y'ALL ARE FUCKING FIRED! - you yelled, needing to release your frustration. Hearing that, the others who were contemplating escaping, shrunk into yourself. Good. At least you'll have someone to sacrifice.

Many things were happening at the same time. You've seen buildings collapsing, demons panicking and fighting for their lives, even some of them kissing passionately on the verge of death. Geez. Dramatic much.

Deep down you were as terrified as them, though. If it wasn't for your money and kinky goods, you wouldn't give a damn and run away too. Unfortunately you needed to stay.

Just as you were focusing your eyes on the angel who was slowly approaching you, a commotion inside of you shop could be heard. Or maybe... Above it. You raised your head and couldn't believe your eyes.

There were thousands of downright identical exorcists descending from the sky, perfectly above your shop. You nearly had a heart attack (though you didn't actually have one) and shot a panicked glance to your co-workers through the window. Did they really have to send the second wave here?! Maybe you didn't think it over afterall.

Not even thinking about it, you moutched: "Run!". Your people gladly did so, screaming and shierking, causing even more commotion and the blood-thirsty angels to pay attention to them. You fought the urge to facepalm.

Great. Now it was happening.

The exterminators mercilessly murdered your employees one by one, while you were watching. Their sick and twisted faces (or maybe they were masks? you didn't really know) seemed even more happy than before. If you haven't seen that they descended from the sky with your own eyes, you would've thought they were demons.

You would be traumatised if not the fact that you've seen worse things. It's hell, duh. But nevertheless it wasn't a nice thing to witness and you definitely must act.

That's why you began to get your ass out of here. You ran like your afterlife depended on it (because it did).

While you were doing so, you heard something collapsing. Looking back, you saw your shop completely destroyed, with one of your employees in their huge ass demon form.

It was touching to see they were trying to defend the shop. But it was now completely destroyed, so...

- Goddamnit! I'm taking this outta your pay! - you said irritated.

You wanted to swear more, but suddenly a familiar voice could be heard.

- Boss! Here! - your best employee yelled, seemingly inviting you to their hiding spot. You let out a quiet cry of joy. Finally someone who is useful in this shithole. You started walking over there, but then in a blink of an eye...

From your cheerful employee's smile began spilling black blood.

You couldn't believe your eyes. There wasn't an angel here just a minute ago. And now she was standing before your dead co-worker, stained by their blood.

- They were a hellborn, you bitch! - you cried out, letting your frustration spill.

The exorcist looked at her clothing, just now noticing the mistake.

Something just snapped inside of you then. She wasn't even paying attention to people she killed. It wasn't an angel, it was a monster! With furious scream and swing of your weapon you ran towards the enemy.

But just as you hit her with it, the weapon broke against her head. You began to retreat with fear, but you were interrupted by the exorcist:

- There is no point in trying, sinner. You can't harm me - you could almost hear the feeling of superiority in her voice.

Something about the way she said it rubbed you the wrong way. You were now overflowing with the desire to fight.

- Oh yeah?! I won't believe you, until I... - you grabbed a spear, that was left in a dead body behind you - ...tRY!

You swung the weapon and to your surprise, this time, the exorcist dodged, almost getting hit.

Oh, so that's how things are...

Now it was your turn to smile triumphally.

- Hm? What was it 'bout being invincible? - you laughed and put a hand on your hip, swinging the spear on your shoulder.

The exterminator seemed furious, smile disappearing from her mask.

- You little BITCH! - she yelled, now preparing to attack you too.

But to her dismay you dodged skillfully and began a new set of attacks. You were fighting for a while, there was no end to this heated moment in sight. She even managed to injure you slightly, but fortunely you dodged just in time. Eventually, though, you managed to knock her over. The training you went on in your previous life was finally paying off.

You climbed on top of her, holding her wrists up and swinged the spear again, preparing to kill her, but... You aimed past her head.

- Oh, yeah! How could I forget. Let's see what disgusting face lies behind your little mask! - you said, wanting to enjoy the victory.

The exorcist looked even more furious than before, trying to move her head away from you. But she failed and you took it off slowly.

Oh.

Oh.

Her golden irises illuminated in the low light and short, white hair was messy from fighting beforehand. She looked furious, her eyes were narrow and on her pale skin there was a droplet of your own, red blood, that was spilling out of your injured hand. Some of the blood even managed to get into her (very kissable) lips. She spat it out at your face in anger.

You didn't even notice her saliva mixed with your own blood, which was flowing down your face, and just stared at her wide-eyed (possibly blushing).

- Happy? - her voice brought you to reality. It seemed even more attractive now that you have seen her face.

In a moment of inattention, you forgot that you weren't holding her wrists now.

Smirking, the woman took advantage of it and punched you in the face. Hard.

- OW! FOR FUCK'S SAKE! - you screamed and staggered, creating exorcist the opportunity to break free. And that's exactly what happened.

She kicked you down and then, as you were laying on the ground, then rose in the air, preparing to escape.

You, completely beaten up, just raised your head at her and yelled:

- Wait! What's your name?!

The angel just stopped in the air and looked back at you, with her pale face.

- Why the hell should I tell you? You disgust me - she deadpanned.

You thought for a moment.

- I-I, um, I know Lucifer! - You bluffed, desperate - I'll tell him you killed a Hellborn! Yeah! You fucked up! - That was a lie made up on spot, completely unbelievable. You even admitted it to yourself, prepared to fail.

The exorcist turned around and just as you thought she'll fly away, she spoke:

- It's Lute. My name is Lute.

What a nice name...

Wait! No! Disgusting! Very disgusting! What a horrible name!

- My name's [name]. Better remember it, you shithead! - you got up, staggering - From now on, you're my worst enemy! - you didn't even realize how silly that sounded then.

- Sure. Whatever you say, sinner. - She snorted, looking at you from above. The slight light reflecting off her halo added even more charm to her face. You couldn't help, but notice her long, beautiful eyelashes.

She was a horrible person. Really, she was. This "Lute", as she was claiming to be called, probably killed thousands of souls, before she killed your employee.

But you just couldn't help to wonder...

Why hadn't you killed her?

Notes: I'm sorry about any mistakes I've made or if my writing's kinda off, English is not my native language, so spare me please 🙏 The lack of Lute fics on here is a crime, I just HAD to write smth, even if it's not perfect. Also it will be multiple chapters and yes, there will be smut 😳. stay tuned, darlings ! 🫶

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #lute hazbin hotel #lute x reader #im an useless lesbian #fanfiction

[twogyuu]

an unfinished tale [one - teaser]

Pairing: Wonwoo x fem!reader

Synopsis: In an age absent of DMs and dating apps, a year you're not supposed to exist in, you defy all odds and manage to fall in love with the neighbor down the hall from your uncle's dorm. Part of you wishes he feels the same, part of you hopes he doesn't - for the sake of your heart and his.

Genre: Fluff, crack, smidgen of angst, first/last loves, time travel!au, 90s!au, college!au, uncle/roommate!chan, chan has a twin brother who is reader's dad LMAO, fairy godmother!seokmin; featuring friends!seungkwan, vernon, and jihoon too 💙

Warnings: profanity

WC: 573 (est total chapter WC ~5k)

A/N: This is a Wonwoo fic, I promise 😂💀 He's just not featured a whole lot in the first few chapters because we're setting up scene! Likely, full chapter to be released at the end of the month or early May :) Please look forward to it!

masterlist

His roommate sat up from his bottom bunk, one hand propping himself up, revealing the top of Chan’s emerald green and white tracksuit. Hair on the back of his head stuck up in all sorts of directions, some strands standing straight up due to the static.

He furrowed his brows, lips setting into a pout – both in confusion and curiosity. Chan asked slowly, “You brought . . . a girl . . . back to our dorm?” 

His eyes drifted from Vernon to the person in question, taking note of her saddened state, but most importantly, her rather bizarre fashion. Vernon understood because he had the same reaction – he just didn’t show it well. At first glance, she didn’t look weird: she wore a cropped bubble sweater with a drawstring around the hem that hit her at the waist, meeting right where her pair of black leggings started. A pair of Converse All Stars with thicker than usual white rubber soles donned her feet. It was all in the subtle detail that just felt off – the leggings made it feel like she was from the last decade, and hell, when did Converse get a height boost? (Where could he find some?). 

Chan’s gaze landed on her face again – she looked so . . . familiar. Did he know her from somewhere? Have they met before?

Chan opened his mouth to say something, only to shut them again, lips twisting tight, wagging his finger at her. The feelings are at the tip of his tongue, but he had no words to express them. 

Regardless of his confusion, the girl stood stiff under his scrutiny, hands pressed into the sides of her legs as she peered at Chan. She seemed too absorbed in her own thoughts to care for Chan’s obvious judgment. Her eyes wide and chin trembling, as if he held the world in his hands and he was the hero she was waiting for all this time to bring comfort to her misery. 

The adoration and relief that swam in her eyes was strange and nostalgic . . . almost as if he was her–

“Do I know–”

“Dad!”

She launched herself into Chan’s chest, tightly wrapping her hands around his waist and collapsing into a whole body-shaking sob. Vernon figured it had been a rough day for her already, but perhaps more than she led on and she was only finally giving into stress.

“Dad?” Chan repeated in an exacerbated, nebulous tone. He immediately looked from the girl then to Vernon. Chan pointed at her, shoulders raising to silently ask, where the fuck did you find her?

Vernon couldn’t help but smile a little, only offering Chan a small shrug in reply before nonchalantly, sauntering to his side of the dorm. He deposited his backpack underneath his old, unsturdy wooden desk that was on the verge of collapsing from all the books piled on it. Vernon settled into the spinning office chair, leaning back and propping up his feet. He had no plans of intervening at any time soon. He was a believer that people should feel their emotions. The girl seemed too fraught and crying seemed therapeutic for her as she clung onto Chan.  

On the contrary, Chan was distressed, unsure of if he should push her away or comfort her. The former felt wrong. . . genuinely, she seemed so sad and desolate. At the same time, he was incredibly uncomfortable.

Dad?

He was certain he did not look that old! So damn rude.

#wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines

[le4therfxce]

Please feed my insatiable hunger Thomas Hewitt content I am BEGGING YOU.

Okay so like you have yk the usual standard requests like 'Slashers with a short s/o' 'Slashers with a chubby s/o' and that's cool but like, there's been this one thing that I've wanted, and ITS SO SPECIFIC OMG. Picture this: angsty Thomas x female! reader- She successfully escapes the Hewitt's with a victim, because she's aware that their lifestyle is horrific and she's not really suffering from too much Stockholm syndrome although she loves Thomas so it's kinda conflicting in a way, but plot twist.... SHE'S PREGNANT WITH HIS CHILD! (bonkers right) and he's aware she's carrying his baby, because she's like 3 months in already, so she and this victim get in a getaway car of some sorts, and Thomas is in hot pursuit, but they eventually lose him, so he kinda just loses the love of his life and his s/o is almost on the verge of a meltdown because she doesn't want to leave him but she doesn't want to be associated with that type of stuff, for the sake of herself and the baby. BUT I'm a sucker for angst with a happy ending so if anyone was to pull ALL of this off WITH a happy ending, you'd cure my depression. THIS IS THE SHIT I WANNA SEE, JUICY CONTENT, PLUS MOST ACC'S THAT DO REQUESTS ARE INACTIVE OR BUSY SO LIKE NOOOOO. someone pls help a poor reader out.

#thomas hewitt #slashers x reader #leatherface x reader #texas chainsaw the beginning #help plz #thomas hewitt x reader

[moonlightazriel]

Under the Mountain /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: You’ve been trapped under the Mountain for 50 years, and now that you’re back, you don’t even know how to go back to your old life.

Warnings: Angst and fluff

Word Count: 1,2K

Notes: Finally got a new charger and now I can write again.

Main Masterlist

“I thought that you were dead.” I closed my eyes, they felt heavy with tears as the arms of my mate hugged me, I could feel the cold drops of his tears as he too cried. The bond had snapped into place one month before that fateful day, Rhys had told us that he would meet Amarantha and we should stay back and protect Velaris.

He shouldn’t have gone alone, so when we learned that he was being held hostage by her, I knew I had to do something, but my plans didn’t had the time to succeed as I was captured and gifted to Amarantha by a group of her soldiers. “She’s going to love a female Illyrian”, they said and they were right.

I would never forget the terrified face of Rhysand when I got there, the image burned in my brain for the rest of my life. For the sake of ourselves, we pretended to not know each other, only speaking in each other’s minds. I was present on every torture she would inflict on him, she would let me chained to her bed and sleeping on the floor like some pet.

I was there watching as he fell in love with his mate and helping him with his plan to enrage Tamlin enough to kill Amarantha, when he stabbed her and ripped her throat open, I let out a sob of pure relief, we were finally going home.

Azriel’s eyes open and it was like he was finally seeing me for the first time, his eyes looking at the missing part behind my back and every new scar, I could feel him getting still under my touch as he realize what she had done to me. I still walked a little weirdly, the loss of the wings making me unstable.

He struggled to say something, and when he couldn’t find the right words, he just pulled me closer again, making me finally cry in his chest, the bond in my chest glowing with life after being shut down for 50 years, it was such a powerful feeling that almost hurt, the sensation making me dizzy as his love flooded my chest. No one said anything when he lead me to our room and helped me take a bath, silently brushing my hair and making no questions.

He also didn’t say a word when I curled up in bed, holding my knees to my chest while I felt the unusual softness of the mattress, the space seeming to big for me, my whole body felt weird, I felt like i didn’t belong at this place anymore, a broken person didn’t deserve to live in a place like Velaris. I didn’t deserve the soft gaze he directed to me neither the affection he showed me.

It took me two weeks to finally believe I was home, every time someone would get too close I would flinch away, I didn’t sleep and didn’t ate properly for days, being used to eating nothing for weeks. I had learned how to survive and now I needed to learn how to live again and how to be myself again.

Azriel didn’t push me, he would just sit with me in silence and enjoy my company, I knew he wanted to know everything but I couldn’t tell him those kind of things, not yet. He noticed how I would look at his wings and how my eyes would get clouded with tears, he just held me closer each time he saw I was on the verge of breaking again.

It was another night of not being able to sleep when I decided to sneak out to the rooftop, crying freely as I watched the stars, the cold air sending shivers down my spine, and I just stayed there, trying to calm down. Azriel’s soft steps startled me, making me look at him, the moon shining on him, making him look like a angel, my personal guardian angel.

“I just needed to breathe.” I whispered, he joined me, sitting by my side and looking at the stars. “It was two years ago, when she decided that she had enough of my wings.” I started after a while.

“You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.” He said softly, his hand squishing my knee, his eyes intensely staring at me, like he could see my broken soul.

“I need to, before this destroys me, I need help to carry this weight before it crushes me to the point that there’s no way to repair.” I sounded desperate.

“Then let me help you my love.” He said and turned to face me fully.

“She made sure that I was awake during the whole procedure, but Rhysand numbed my pain, he was forced to watch and couldn’t do nothing as she cut through them, first shredding them and then deciding to remove them entirely, I know he blames himself for what happened and this breaks my heart. Sometimes I still feel their weight, still see them behind me, but when I look again, there’s nothing, I feel empty knowing that I’ll never feel the wind in my face again, the adrenaline of flying with you, flying to the battlefield. I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to walk normally again, I had them my whole life and now it feels like something is wrong, I didn’t had the time to practice my walking as she forced me to sit at her feet most of the times. She did a lot of things to me, things that I never imagined going through, but this is nothing compared to losing my wings, I just wish i could have them back and be myself again.”

I could see that he was trying his best to be strong for me and to not cry, I saw him crying more in this month than in the 500 years a had known him. The bond pulsing with my sorrow as I couldn’t hold myself anymore, if I wanted to start healing, I needed to start feeling again.

“I can’t bring your wings back, neither can erase the trauma you’re been through, but I’m here to be whatever you need me to be, I can be your friend, the shoulder you cry on, whatever you need, you just have to ask me and I’ll do it for you. I love you with my entire body and soul, I’m yours for you to do what you please with me.”

“Can you… Az, can you fly with me?” I asked, I needed this, I knew this was going to help soothing the constant pain in my chest. He nodded, and we both got up, his hands carrying me bridal style as his wings opened gloriously behind him, and he aimed to the sky, the night breeze making us both cold but I didn’t care, the feeling of the wind in my face once again as we fly making my heart beat faster like it used to.

I stretched my arm out, reaching for the clouds as the tears started falling on my cheeks and I giggled, the overwhelming feeling leaking through the bond, I looked up and he was already looking at me, I reached out for him, kissing him on the lips, feeling the softness and the affection on them, it was the first kiss we shared after I got back.

“I love you with all of my heart.” I whispered and he rested his forehead against mine, a small smile on my lips as we kept flying in the skies until the sun rose.

#acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #shadowsinger #night court #sarahjmaas #azriel x y/n #velaris #fluff #angst #moonlightazriel #rhysand #under the mountain

[minzis]

Prosecute My Sins

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ஓ๑A Vampire Gaz One-Shot๑ஓ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

✦❘༻Summary: You were sure you had been KIA while out on a mission with Gaz but you awoke different, changed. Any and all wounds mysteriously healed despite having what should’ve been a fatal wounds. Drenched in the stench of blood paired with an unquenchable thirst for it.

“I’m not what you need, just what you want.”

✦❘༻Tags: Will be mentions of blood, various different forms of torture, major/minor injuries, bits of angst, slight nsfw, nicknames Bunny/Love, 3.2k words.

✦❘༻A/N: This one is quite the doozy thought of this on a late night after binge watching Twilight of course. Tho the vamp lore is different compared to Twilight’s lore. I don’t see many Gaz fics in my opinion and I’m going absolutely feral for Vamp!Gaz. Some inspo taken from ‘I Wanna Be Yours’ happy Halloween as well :3

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ஓ๑♡๑ஓ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The last thing you could remember before it all went dark was the pain. That burning pain in your stomach as you screamed. It was earth shatteringly painful, “I don’t wanna die here, please don’t let me die here.” You were begging as Gaz could only watch in horror. You weren’t going to make it, “no..no sweetheart you’re gonna be alright come on just keep your eyes open and on me yeah?” His bloodied hands cupped your face as it left red smudges across it. The smell of it filling your nose while it poured out of you.

“Oh my god I’m going too fucking die,” you cried out instinctively pressing your hands at the source of the pain hoping it would save whatever life force you had left. “I don’t wanna die here,” ear piercing scream was all that he could hear as his hands raked through your hair. “I know baby just stay with me you’re gonna be okay,” he muttered as time slipped away faster then he could control. There wasn’t enough time, back up wasn’t going too make it.

Your hand moved to hold his as you tried to cling onto the few breaths, “I-I’m sorry.” He shook his head at you resting his forehead against your own, “no baby it’s not your fault you did what you thought was right.” The decision you made begging for them to kill you instead when the men threatened to shoot Gaz. You guys both made the risk of surrendering for an interrogation for the sake of the mission.

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” You could hear Gaz yelling out but it sounded muffled. Ears ringing as you sat bloodied and bruised. Sure they needed to do this integration but you could tell they were enjoying it, getting off on it. Lips sore and gashed from the amount of times you bit down attempting to hush your own screams.

Time is funny like that, moving slower in all the worst times. This was one of them as they broke fingers, pulled teeth, cut at your skin like a pig being butchered. Gaz sat untouched just to get a further kick out of it. “We’ve given you everything we fucking know?!?” He spewed out a range of curses and threats the angered expression on his face yet sat on the verge of tears. “Just let her go,” he was pleading in desperation flipping between anger and fear. The information you provided was seemingly useless and the integrators had grown tired. 

You didn’t have a vest on, neither of you did. They stripped you both of all your belongings meaning before the team even realized something was wrong you’ll be long dead.

Almost like a cruel joke they didn’t shoot you in the head, he had to suffer too. Time slowing to a stop as they aimed at your stomach with a wicked smiles across their faces. You were frozen you didn’t think that far of head. Gaz’s screams over came your ears as realization sunk in. Dying? You were going to die here and you didn’t want too.

The metallic taste began to flood over your tongue coughing up heaps of your own blood. It was in mere seconds before Gaz was in-front of you. Wasn’t he tied to the chair? Your eyes darted around as you tried to search for the men. Only to find them motionless on the ground.

“Come on eyes on me love,” he demanded fearfully as he pulled you closer to him. You could hardly mange to continue holding his hand as the darkness faded in and out. “You know I love you right,” you whispered weakly as he shook his head. “You can tell me that when we get back home,” he hushed your cries before speaking once more.

“I’m sorry, you can hate me later,” before you could even find the strength to respond it all went dark.

It was cold at first in that darkness for what felt like an eternity. So dark you couldn’t even tell if you were blinking or if your eyes were shut. Then the burning came once more but it was worse than before. You wanted to claw at your skin feeling like it had been sat on fire. It was unbearable, your mouth inhumanly hung open to what you had assumed was too scream. You couldn’t even tell if you were screaming as your ears sunk in deafness.

The burning sensation overrunning every single one of your sense at once. As if your veins were being pulled out one by one and sewn back in. You writhed in an inscrutable pain unable to do anything other then hope it was going to end soon.

It was excruciating slow, as if time waited for you just for a cruel joke. You wanted to cry but no more tears would fall. Throat running dry long before your screams would stop, if you even were to begin with. You were petrified stuck in a stillness you couldn’t control. No longer able to move out of your own free will.

Air came and let out your lungs in a fashion that hardly seemed normal. It hurt to breath, to scream, to think, it all hurt. Your heart feeling like just a beat away from stopping entirely. You almost wished it had, death would be merciful compare to any more of this.

A brightness over took your vision beams of light warming your skin. Your eyes fluttered open as you were staring up at the sky. Panic immediately ensued as you sat up in fear as the memories came rushing back. You stared down at your arms flipping them around in confusion, the wounds? The cuts, bruises they were all gone. You should be dead, you felt yourself die? You felt like you but it was so off putting, something was wrong. Like the way your heart beat slowly steadily as your veins felt empty. How your senses seemed to be more heightened than before. Just like that thirst-

“Y/n?” A man called out softly you turned to face the voice ready to fight only to be met with the familiar face of Gaz. You relaxed having found something of semblance. His clothes mirrored your own painted in a bloodied mess, drenched in it. The smell of the blood was suffocating, loud. It made you hesitate the thought of who’s it was, just hoped it was the fuckers who tortured you.

He was okay though, it made you smile a little. You rushed out to hug him letting a heavy breath out you didn’t realize you had been holding. “Gaz?” You called for him almost unsure if he was even real. A soft chuckle came from him, his arms wrapping around you.

You soaked in the hug, a sense of safeness washing over you. You relaxed in his presence as you pulled away. There were a few moments of silence looking over each other. You let out a short laugh, “your okay.” He nodded in response, “I’m okay.” The peace was short lived as you were reminded of what had happened and many questions were unanswered.

You looked at him as you thought over how to even begin, you didn’t even get time to talk before he spoke first. “Listen we need to talk..about what happened,” you noticed the weary expression on his face like he was unsure. You simply nodded as he continued, “I don’t- you might not believe all the things I’m about to tell you but I’m promising you they’re all the truth.”

You made a move to speak but decided against it only making a move to grab his hand instead offering a gentle smile of reassurance. “And I want you to know everything I did was because I love you okay?” he stated. A nervous breath let out from you as he grabbed at your shoulders, “I’m serious y/n,” you muttered an okay glancing over his eyes.

They seemed at fear as if he’d blink to hard and you’d disappear. Like he was clawing at your existence just to keep it around. “Back there you died and I revived you,” he stated you almost let out a duh before he continued. “But what I did didn’t bring you back the same, the injuries were just to serious and I couldn’t-” he stopped mid sentence pulling away from you and digging his hand through his hair.

“Fuck I’m so sorry y/n I didn’t know what to do and I had to you were going too die,” he was almost shaking as he apologized for something you could hardly understand. It was only making half sense and yet he was pleading like he had committed some unforgivable sin.

“Gaz I don’t understand?” You motioned for him once more but he refused pulling back. “Vampires they’re real, I’m one of them and I changed you into one,” he admitted in a panic tone. You stopped in your tracks before barking out a laugh. “Dude seriously what happened?” You said in between your laughter but the look on his face wrote he was more then serious. You raised an eye brow at him as he turned to you.

You waited staring blankly at him, he didn’t seem to be joking. “I’m being serious y/n,” he had a firm expression, redden glare in his eyes. You must’ve made a face causing him to let out a shaky sigh. Before you could question any further he made a sudden hissing sound opening his mouth slightly exposing the sharp fangs.

“Oh.”

He moved to approach you but you stepped back in hesitation. Still taken aback, unsure of the words coming out his mouth. He looked at fear, scared from the expression he had on his face. You thought over all the instances he’d up and disappear for unpredictable amounts of time. Never seen him eat in front of you, odd accelerated healing rates compared too others.

“Oh.”

He stood amiss as you remained silently staring at him. You waited for the punchline, the end of the joke. It never came, vampires? That shit that only exists in movies or books, shit that doesn’t happen to you. You were normal, just another soldier who followed orders and sent off without a moments notice.

It’s numbing at first, a calm before the storm one would say.“What the fuck did you do? What did you do?!?” you didn’t understand how you felt, anger? Grief? He went to reach for you but you shoved his hands away. Pushing at the man banging your fist at his chest as he stood still. In a way deeming he deserved this at the least for the many things he had taken from you. All for the sake of not loosing you.

“Gaz what did you do?” You pushed and yelled, he hadn’t uttered a word. A sob found its way out your throat slumping in his arms. Your movements slowed thinking over all the things you had taken for granted. Immortality and all for what?

He knew no apology would make it right, it’d be a lie if he said he regretted it. “Even if you hate me till the day I petrify I would’ve chosen the same,” for the very first time in his life he had begged to a god he didn’t believe in. For someone he wanted to keep, “I just couldn’t lose you.” Love will make you do many things out of desperate and that was what Gaz had done. Even if you chose to leave him here it was worse than loosing you in death.

Out of all the things he prided himself in it was behind able to save others and the one person he cared about the most he couldn’t save. Selfish is what it was, “I know.” You replied softly, you would’ve done the same. Your death in itself was a sacrifice you chose to make if it meant he lived, who knew he was already dead? A beating heart on stolen time and pleads for a salvation.

You wanted to be mad, you had every right to but the anger seeped away just as quick as it rose. Traces of his love crawling through. There was a lot you were going to lose, grieving who you used to be maybe even who you could’ve been. Becoming a vampire sure as hell wasn’t on this year’s bingo card but it seemed so thrilling at the same time. That spark in your dark life created in years of servicing as a dog at war. He ignited a flame within you and it only left you craving more.

You felt your body heat up, a thirst drawing from your stomach laying on your touch. Vision pulsating, short lived pain coming from your gums. Brushing your fingers along the teeth searching for the source finding two symmetrical fangs in place. Dizziness struck you making you sway slightly, a hand grabbed at your arm to keep you upright. Your eyes trailed up the arm to meet his gaze.

Your eyes narrowed at him, reddened eyes laced in a state of hunger. “Shit,” he muttered to himself as he looped his arm further around you. He begun tugging you along as you half focused on what was happening. You didn’t have the energy to bother asking as he pulled you into some shade resting you against a near by wall. Hunger, It was the only thing you could think about, the feeling of it consuming you.

He stood in-front of you with a mixed expression. You laid your head back on the wall heavy breaths were all that you could make. “You need to feed,” he half stated. You almost chuckled in response as if it wasn’t obvious. “You can feed on me,” he added abruptly you debated in protest but the thirst drove past the thoughts of saying no. Your hands moved around his face brushing them down around the back of his neck. You tugged him closer with a strength you didn’t expect causing him to nearly tumbled onto you.

His hands slammed onto the wall placed at either side of your head. He let out an exhale, your fingers plying at the skin around his neck. “Are you sure?” you questioned in a softness. “Yeah,” he almost humed his response. You moved your mouth near his neck letting out a hiss, fangs outstretching.

Your teeth treaded along the skin hardly breaking skin, he made a sudden groan as you pulled away slightly. “You gotta bite me love,” he chuckled lowly whispering sweetly in your ear. You bit down on your lip as cravings pooled in your mind, desires dripping off your fangs. They almost hurt in a hungry soreness.

You leaned closer hesitating once more before sinking your teeth into his skin. He bellowed out an animistic growl as his blood flooded in your mouth. It was sweet in all the wrong ways, too sweet. It felt like you were drunk on the the taste, his taste. Like a nectar that was made just for you to drink from. You weren’t sure when to stop nor how too. Your nails dug at the skin of his shoulders pulling him closer almost out of fear you’d lose the taste.

“Y/n,” he called out your name but it was muffled your mind fogging. “Y/n…I need you to stop,” he was panting out his sentences each word coming out mushed together. He was to good too stop, you mewled in response. Sure a vampire couldn’t die from having the last bits of life sucked out of them but it didn’t mean it didn’t drive him crazy.

“Bunny I really need you to stop or I won’t be able to control what happens next,” he groaned out in a frenzied frustration. You pulled away from him, satisfaction filling your senses. Drops of his blood fell from you lips trailing down your chin. You looked up at him as if you were still starved. The smell of it alone carved in your brain. “What if I don’t want you too?” a smirk found it was on your face as he loomed over you.

“You’re fuckin’ crazy, my crazy but still fuckin’ crazy,” he let out laugh staring down at you. You felt a sense of madness crowding you, beckoning you. Telling you pretty lies and desires. You got a second change at life so there’s no use in beating around the bush this time. There was a pause in his movements when his hand firmly gripped your chin. Face inches from yours with a glare of ravenous lust. “Do not say things you don’t mean so flimsily,” your eyes widened in surprise his tone written in preeminence.

“I’m not want you need, just what you want,” he paused a hitch in the deep breath he took.

“So unless you plan on following through I suggest you keep those thoughts in that pretty head of yours.”

Speechless is how he had you. Since when was he like this? Even more damming to say you kinda liked it. His tongue licked up the trail of his own blood from your chin locking his lips on yours. The left over sweetened taste coating your tongues.

There it was that edge, you felt so full yet starved at the same damn time. Further pushing his body closer to yours, finger tips pressing into skin with a hopelessness. Shivers ran down your spine when he finally pulled away leaving behind a breathless state of you. You felt an inch of shame the thought of asking for more crossing your mind. Nail bitingly beautiful he was, he knew that too.

Gaz tended to get a level of cockiness when it came to you. Pride in knowing it was only him that could every truly fulfill you. He found the new you enjoyable, durable, pliable. He wouldn’t have to be as gentle, he didn’t have to hold back. He knew he was no good, shamefully so.

His hand reached towards your face softly taking parts of your hair twirling it through his fingers. He took in a deep breath taking in the new scent of yours, he smiled a bit releasing your hair. He raised himself off the wall grabbing at your hand.

His smile turned into a smirk fangs outstretching, “come on I’ll teach you how to hunt.”

#minzis suga #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #gaz x y/n #call of duty gaz #cod x y/n #cod x you

[dearestvante]

stars around my scars; kth. | 02.

pairing: taehyung x fem!reader genre: college au, goodgirl x badboy (sort of), angst, fluff warnings: lowercase writing, swearing, drinking, infidelity (not between you and tae), taehyung calls you 'angel', can be confusing at times (i'm a beginner and not a native english speaker), jungkook cameo 🤭 summary: people are not always what they seem. you learned that the hard way, when you caught your boyfriend cheating, the night that was supposed to be one of the best ones you ever experienced. but on the same night you also learned that in everything bad, there’s always a little bit of good. wc: 2.2k series masterlist

november started with a rainy saturday. the light tapping of raindrops woke you up from the comfort of your dreams into the harsh reality. you got out of bed, rubbing your eyes, dragging yourself towards the kitchen. on your way there you noticed that soojin’s bedroom door is slightly open, offering a view of her sleeping like a baby.

in the kitchen, you made yourself a cup of coffee to start the day. you weren’t a fan of the bitter taste, so your caffeinated drinks mostly looked like a child’s, with all sorts of different flavors - and of course, whipped cream - but today you decided on a simple black. you felt bitter, so you needed bitter. though you still added two sugar cubes in it. with the steamy mug in your hands, you sat down on the couch, and as you did, you noticed your coat next to you, the one that you wore last night. soojin must’ve brought it back. you reached inside the pocket to take your phone out. 15 missed calls and 20 unread messages. taking small sips of your coffee, you skimmed through all of them. most of them were from soojin, except for two calls, those were from your boyfriend. sorry, ex-boyfriend. when his name popped up on the screen, you felt your stomach shrink and a lump forming in your throat as last night played in your head over and over again. you threw your phone on the coffee table and sat back on the couch, bringing your knees up to your chest. it felt like a nightmare, expect that it was all real. nightmares you could forget and escape by waking up, but there’s no waking up from reality.

your spiraling was disturbed by the sound of your roommates lazy footsteps. she came out of her room, headed straight for the kitchen and downed like a full bottle of water, in one go. you could hear her muffled swearing as she got another one out of the fridge.

“are you okay?” you asked quietly as you walked to the kitchen , trying not to scare her, but it didn’t work. you startled her so much she almost threw the bottle at you.

“for fuck’s sake, y/n! where the hell where you?”

“me? i was just in the livin-” you tried to answer but she cut you off.

“last night! where were you last night?! jungwon was so worried about you, and so were we.”

you scoffed. “i imagine how worried he must’ve been.”

“what do you mean? we called you like a dozen times but you couldn’t even pick your damn phone up!”

“i left it in the house. i got home earlier.” you said, turning around, hoping soojin won’t ask any more questions. but she did.

“what do you mean, you got home early? did something happen that i don’t know about?”

you stopped in the middle of the room, squeezing your fists, hoping that you don’t break down crying.

“did something happen?! yes soojin, it fucking did. jungwon cheated on me.”

your roommate seemed surprised, but not as much as you would’ve expected her to be.

“oh no, he was right. he said you would misunderstand.”

“there was nothing to misunderstand, soojin i know what i saw!” you were confused and frustrated, on the verge of breaking.

“look, i think you should talk to him, he will explain everything—”

“you don’t believe me?” your voice was shaky.

“i-.. i-i don’t know, okay?!” she replied, running her hand through her hair, frustrated.

“get out..”

“what?”

��get the hell out of my house!” you snapped at her, slapping the kitchen counter which made her jumpy, once again.

“but i have nowhere to go…”

“i don’t fucking care, grab your things and leave.”

you turned around and went straight inside your room, trying to hold your tears in at least until you close the door. losing jungwon was one thing, but losing your best friend was way worse. realizing that she would rather believe his made up story, instead of you, when you knew you are right, felt more painful than a knife through the heart. you dropped to your knees before you could reach the bed. it was too much, too heavy. you felt betrayed, deceived and painfully lonely. as you sat there with your face buried in your hands, you heard soojin slam the front door as she left.

you spent the rest of the weekend inside, on your own. you tried distracting yourself with a handful of activities, but something always reminded you of what happened so you ended up crying again, and again, and again. from studying to scrubbing the bathroom clean, nothing could help ease your mind, up until sunday evening when you decided that this cannot continue anymore. whatever happened, happened, you can’t undo it and crying over it won’t help fix it. it was time to move on, because if you don’t, that means he wins. and you hated the idea of losing.

with the harsh sound of your monday morning alarm, came the harsh realization that moving on might not be as easy as you first imagined. staying in bed and skipping the whole day has never been so tempting before, but you didn’t give in. you still needed your attendances and good grades to keep the scholarship so skipping because of a break up was not an option. not for you. you were always a fighter and that wasn’t gonna change anytime soon.

as you arrived on campus, you immediately noticed your - now ex - friend group standing at your usual spot. taking a deep breath you fastened your steps, walking beside them like they don’t even exist. first bullet, dodged, you thought as you entered the building. going straight for your locker, you took all the necessary books, exchanging them with the ones you brought in your bag. you slammed the locker door shut and headed to class.

mondays weren’t that busy for you, so by lunch you were done with all of your classes. it felt like your ex-friends were avoiding you just as much as you were avoiding them, because you haven’t seen any of them since the morning. little did you know, that this will soon change.

you decided to have lunch at the cafeteria today, so you took a tray of today’s menu and sat down to an empty table, in the back corner of the room. it was an unwritten rule at your college, that the people who sit that far back, do not wish to be bothered, so you were hoping that no one will disturb you. while you finished your food, you had time to look around, considering you had pretty good view of the whole room from the back. you saw two freshman girls trying to earn two seats at the jock’s table, the communications majors judging everyone that entered, art majors covered in paint and/or clay residue, and last but not least, the popular table. that’s where you would be sitting right now, with your friends. you get a little lost in your thoughts and stare at them a moment longer than you originally planned, which they also notice. you see soojin turning towards jungwon, it looks like she’s very persistent about something. you lower your gaze, looking at the leftovers on your plate, praying that their conversation has nothing to do with you. when you look up again, you find jungwon standing in front of you.

“we need to talk.”

you shrug your shoulders. “there’s nothing to talk about. you cheated, we’re over.”

you sound determined, but that’s probably because you rehearsed this exact sentence over and over again during the weekend. you get up, with the intention to end this conversation and leave, but jungwon grabs your arm, holding you back.

“you’re being unreasonable, please just hear me out!”

“i don’t care what lies you fed to the rest, but you can’t deceive me, not anymore. it’s over, now please do me a favor and leave me alone.” you declare, freeing your hand from his grip.

your ex-boyfriend is trying hard to cover his defeat with a nervous chuckle. jungwon hated when you had the last word, he always had to be the one to end the conversation. most of the time you let him, but those days are over, you made that very clear to him today. every single soul in the cafeteria is staring at you as you walk away, and that’s when you know, that the rumors already started. jungwon earned the “cool freshman” title for getting an older girl, while you’re probably painted as the bad girlfriend who couldn’t fulfill a man’s needs. you knew the truth and random students’ opinion didn’t really matter but it still hurt a little, half of campus looking at you like you poisoned their pet.

amidst the weekend you got rid of the stuff that reminded you of your past relationship: you threw out all the gifts and pictures, along with jungwon’s clothes that were left at your place and kicked out your treacherous roommate. the only thing left was the angel costume you rented specifically for the halloween frat party. you called the rental shop and they said you can bring it back on monday, so after coming home from college, you checked if you had all the pieces of it, and headed to the shop.

the woman at the counter was expecting you so you were basically in and out in a few seconds. as you closed the door, you heard your phone ring. it was your mom. you were ignoring her calls and gave your usual updates through texts, but you couldn’t avoid her for long. after all, you did not get your determination from your dad.

“hi mom!” you picked up, the fake enthusiasm in your voice couldn’t have fooled a deaf person.

“sweetheart, would you mind explaining what happened between you and jungwon?” don’t let the nickname fool you, she was furious. her and jungwon’s mom were best friends since high school, so you figured that she told her everything. well, jungwon’s story, to be precise.

“i caught him with another girl. we broke up.”

“are you sure? his mom says he’s very heartbroken because you are not willing to talk to him.” you felt like the whole universe swore against you. first, your best friend, and now your own mother is doubting you.

“really, mom? you of all people should understand.” you said, and without waiting for her answer, you hung up. she was a victim of infidelity herself, it ended her marriage with your dad yet she still chose to believe someone else.

you fastened your pace and walked with your head down, so you don’t have to deal with anyone else today. your plan was compromised when you bumped into someone on the side walk. if it was anyone else, you probably would’ve told them to watch where they’re going, staring them down with a frown, but as you raised your gaze, you saw it’s taehyung you literally walked into.

“hi, angel.”

“hi.” you said, taking a small step back to create some distance between the two of you. “what’s up?”

“got some new stuff” he raised a plastic bag, filled with all types of brushes and paint. “now i’m waiting for my roommate. you?”

“ooh, nice. i just dropped of my costume at the rental shop. officially got rid of everything that would remind me of my ex.” you said, with a faint smile on your face.

“glad to hear that.” he smiled back at you, making your sharp features soften, unintentionally. you’ve never seen a person with a smile as contagious as his. contagious and beautiful.

the two of you would’ve probably stood there for a while just staring at each other if it wasn’t for a guy - taehyung’s roommate, supposedly - snapping you out of it.

“sorry, hyung i couldn’t find the one you said but they had thi— oh hi, stranger.” he said, looking towards you with his big, brown eyes. the guy had a cute, round-ish face and soft features, which he tried to sharpen with various piercings.

“y/n, this is jungkook, my roommate and best friend. jungkook, this is y/n, she’s…” taehyung hesitated, as he tried to introduce you to his best friend.

“i’m taehyung’s friend, nice to meet you.” you held out your hand, turning towards jungkook.

“nice to meet you too.” he shook your hand, smirking, and then turned to his friend. “i didn’t know you had friends.”

you bit your lip in order to hold in your chuckle as taehyung rolled his eyes at jungkook.

“we’re gonna grab some drinks, wanna come?” jungkook offered, flashing his big, curious eyes again. he looked like a kid, you found it really cute.

“it’s a lovely offer, but i gotta go home.”

“please, don’t say ‘to study’.” jungkook whined.

“but she will, right?” taehyung said, in a mocking manner.

“i’m sorry. maybe next time?” you raised your eyebrows inquiringly.

“you’re lucky, you’re cute.” jungkook replied.

“alright, see you next time, then. have fun boys!” you waved both of them goodbye with a huge grin on your face. so huge, it wouldn’t disappear until you reached your apartment.

you didn’t lie about studying, but when you saw the pile of spreadsheets and the code of law sitting on your desk, you felt the will to live slowly evaporate from your body.

“what a fun night.” you thought as you sat down to your desk, cup of coffee in your hand, so you don’t accidentally fall asleep amidst all this entertainment.

a/n. helloo, i’m back <3 ik it’s not the best chapter ever made but i hope it will satisfy everyone for now hehe. anywaysss look forward to the next one, it will be much much better 👀. likes, reblogs & comments are all appreciated. take care ❤️‍🩹

#taehyung x reader #bts x reader #kim taehyung #taehyung ff #taehyung x you #taehyung x y/n #bts x fem!reader #taehyung x female reader

[starryevermore]

following orders: the search (2) ✧ tech

following orders ✧ a tech bad batch story | ao3

inspired by: a conversation with @captainsbestgal​

pairing: tech x fem!reader

series summary: you don’t want to live in a galaxy where the love of your life, tech, does not exist. but, you can’t abandon your already grieving family. you devote all of your energy to helping hunter and wrecker save omega from the empire and, perhaps, save the wayward crosshair along the way. but the longer you look for the youngest member of the bad batch, the more you suspect that your lost love is not as lost as you once believed. 

chapter summary: you all try to figure out what happened to omega. 

word count: 5,103

series warnings?: spoilers for “plan 99”, plan 99, canon-typical violence, hurt tech, canon divergent, fix it fic, angst, grief/mourning, torture, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, relationship discussions, mutual pining, clone troopers speak mando’a, depression, suicide ideation, memory loss, brainwashing, jealousy, not proofread

chapter warnings?: grief/mourning, pet name (sen’ika/cyar’ika), not proofread

“Do you have to go?”

Echo looked at you, his shoulders falling. It had been a week since…the incident.  It had also been a week longer than Echo wanted to stay. You and him might not have been particularly close, but you knew he was the kind of man who had to throw himself into his work. He couldn’t just sit around and grieve. He had to distract himself from his feelings. He’s lost so many brothers already. He lost his entire batch. He lost the 501st. Tech was another name in the long list of people he will never get to see again. If he stopped to mourn Tech, he would have to mourn them all. And, oh, how Echo would break if he stopped to mourn them all. 

He stayed this long for your sake, you think. Hunter had probably said something to him. Ever since that moment on the dock, Hunter had been watching you closely, waiting for you to break. It was almost infuriating. Part of you was grateful, of course. It was nice to know that someone cared for you to. And you knew it was something he needed to do—he’d always had mother hen instincts, which had only increased and become more prominent after Omega joined your team. But, kriff, if you found him hovering outside of Tech’s bunk, where you had taken to spend most of your days, you were going to lose it! You weren’t a fragile little flower. You were a bounty hunter before you joined them, you had lost and lost and lost before you joined them. Yes, losing Tech was different, but you had seen these feelings play out before. You would be fine. You didn’t need Hunter to treat you like you were on the verge of collapse every moment of every day. 

(You pretended that you didn’t know he could hear your crying every night, when you thought that no one would pay you any mind. It was the only time you felt safe enough to just grieve.) 

Echo couldn’t be pinned down to this sort of life, though. For as long as you knew him, he’d been the kind of man who had to fight the good fight. He couldn’t take injustice lying down. If he could do anything, if he had the capacity to help people, he had to help them. In his mind, there was no question about it. 

It just hurt to know that your already downsized family was losing another member. How were you supposed to operate with just you, Hunter, and Wrecker? You all were equally capable of managing separately, so if the three of you worked together, surely you would be fine. But, each of your lost team members had benefits, too. You all were still reeling from the loss of Crosshair. Even after all this time, you all still expected him to be up high somewhere, ready to gun down your foes. You all still hadn’t adjusted to Echo being gone. Now with Tech and Omega…

It just really hurt. 

“There’s still a fight I have to fight,” Echo said. He looked over his shoulder, where Rex was waiting on the ship. “Think of it as a good thing—”

“I know, I know. You guys might here something out there. I just…” You looked down at your shoes so that Echo wouldn’t see the way your eyes became glassy. The last thing you wanted him to think was that you were crying so he would feel forced to stay. Of course, Echo was far too much of a gentleman to ever think that. But…well, if you kept him away from his purpose, those feelings of resentment might fester and burrow in his heart. Anything could happen. “Our family is already so much smaller now.”

When you glanced back up, Echo was reaching out, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. He gave you a squeeze, rested his head on top of yours. “I would love to stay. But my place isn’t here. I have to help my brothers.”

A bitter part of you wanted to ask, But what of Hunter and Wrecker? Are they not your brothers, too? Is Crosshair not your brother? Is Omega not your sister? But, the truth was, Echo had a point. He could do more good out there, liberating fellow clones. Not only for the sake of granting them freedom from the Empire’s oppressive regime, but also to hear the whispers of what happens when a clone defects. If he stayed here on Pabu, he would be as useless as the rest of you. 

“You should come with us,” Echo continued. “Your skillset would be a great help. Hunter and Wrecker, too.”

You swallowed hard. You were willing to fight for Omega and Crosshair, fight to get them back. But you were so tired of fighting. You wanted to reunite your family and be done with it. You were done. To Echo, though, you said, “I’ll consider it.”

“That’s all I ask.” He looked back at Rex’s ship, then back to you. “I’ll keep in touch when I can. And if I find out anything—”

“We’ll be the first to know, I know.” You wrapped your arms around his midsection, gave him a tight squeeze. “Be safe out there, okay?”

“I’ll do my best.” He squeezed you back. The hug felt a little too final. It made you feel like this may be the last time you ever see him. Maybe that was the grief talking, though. Maybe it was the reality of the situation, reminding you that nothing was permanent. You could lose Echo—you could lose Hunter—you could lose Wrecker. Still, you hoped. “Ret’urcye mhi.”

“Ret’urcye mhi.”

Maybe we’ll meet again. 

Echo unwound himself from you, taking a step towards Rex’s ship. You raised your hand, waving goodbye. He waved, too, before getting in the ship. The door shut, and after a minute or two, the ship rose into the air before leaving you, and Hunter, and Wrecker behind. You stared at the space where the ship had once been for a few minutes. 

Echo might be working to try and find information about Omega’s whereabouts, but you knew he had others things to worry about, too. He might not have the time he needs to dedicate himself to the task. And, well, you couldn’t just sit around here to do nothing. Surely, there had to be something you were missing. Maybe there was something Tech had missed? Crosshair had contacted the Batch, after all. Maybe there was something more there? You should go check that…

When you turned around to return to the Marauder, your eyes caught Hunter. He’d been leaning against a building, watching the exchange between you and Echo. When he realized he’d caught your attention, he pushed himself off the wall. He took a step toward you. But you only shook your head. 

Not now. 

You had things to do. 

“Plan 88—”

“Plan 88—”

“Plan 88—”

“How long are you going to listen to that?”

You jumped at the sound of Hunter’s voice. When you turned, he had an arm propped on the back of your seat, staring down at you as you poured over the last message Crosshair had sent. Perhaps it was a hopeless endeavor, but you thought that perhaps, if you listened closely enough, you might hear something in the background that would give away his location. If Crosshair had truly turned against the Empire, he might have been taken to the same place as Omega. Or, perhaps, maybe, there was something missing from his words—a hidden message that you all were meant to decipher. 

It, of course, was a fruitless endeavor. 

So, too, had been everything you’d done. Ever since Echo had left, you poured yourself into finding answers. An answer. Even a hint at an answer would have sufficed. You went through every comm channel the Batch had ever used. You combed through records, reports, maps—everything. You didn't have the first clue where to start, and nearly two weeks later, you still didn’t know anything. In fact, you almost felt like you knew less than what you started with. 

“As long as it takes.”

Hunter let out a sigh. He came around, standing in front of you now. When you didn’t look at him, he reached out, tilted your chin towards him. “There’s nothing there. You and I both know Tech would have found something if there was.”

You chewed on your lip, fighting the urge to snap at him. Doesn’t he realize you understand that? Doesn’t he realize that you know this is all stupid? You might foolishly optimistic, but that did not mean you were blind to it.

Instead, you said, “It makes me feel useful, doing this.”

Hunter’s face fell. That, he understood. You had been holed up in the Marauder since Echo left, but you saw how Hunter was out on the island. He found any and every excuse to be helpful. Helped people find lost belongings, helped with gathering and making food, helped watch over the children of Pabu when their parents needed a break. He didn’t know how to find Omega, didn’t have the first clue, but he did know how to distract himself from the unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

“But it doesn’t do you any good.”

“Omega’s out there, Hunter. She needs us. I can’t just…sit here and hope that Echo hears something, or that a big piece of the puzzle falls into our lap. We don’t have anything going for us.” You ducked your head, wiped at your eyes. You weren’t crying, not yet, but you could feel the tears on the verge of leaking. Even if Hunter would hear the tears welling up, or smell the saltiness of them, you didn’t want him to see you cry. That wasn’t fair to him. “This is the only thing in my life right now that I can control.”

Hunter’s hands fell from your shoulders, trailing down your arms, stopping when he reached your hands. He held them tightly, and tugged you out of your seat. You wobbled slightly as you stood. You’d been sitting there for hours. You could hardly feel your legs. Hunter pulled you into his arms, squeezed you hard. You could hardly breathe, but it was a nice distraction from the way your mind was racing. 

If Tech was here, he would have an answer. If Tech was here, he’d know just the right systems to look at to determine where to begin looking. He’d have a grand plan about breaking into Imperial facilities, about how to retrieve any information that could be gleaned from the circumstances. He would know what to do. And if he didn’t, he would figure it out. 

“I don’t want to disappoint him, Hunter,” you whispered. Your voice was thick with tears. It wobbled, teetering on the edge of a breakdown. “I don’t want his sacrifice to be for nothing. He sacrificed himself for his family. He sacrificed himself for her.”

“He sacrificed himself for you, too, sen’ika,” he whispered back. 

The term of endearment tugged at your heartstrings. Little bird. Oh, if you were a bird, you would have flown down and saved Tech. If you were a bird, you all would have never needed the railcar. You would have flown your family back to safety. You would have never lost Tech. You would have never needed to go to Cid’s. You all would never have been sold out to the Empire. You never would have lost the closest person you had to a daughter. 

“I can’t rest until my family is together again. You, me, Wrecker, Omega…Crosshair.”

Hunter sighed, muttered your name. It was a touchy subject, to be sure. Honestly, you were fairly certain that Hunter was the only one who hadn’t been gung-ho about the potential of Crosshair betraying the Empire. After all, it was Tech who was insistent that the message had not been a trap. It was Wrecker who was the most vocal about how much he missed his wayward brother. It was Omega who kept insisting she wanted her family back together. And it was Echo who probably understood what Crosshair was going through the most—

“He sacrificed himself for Crosshair, too.”

“We’ll worry about him another day, sen’ika. Omega, too. Right now, you need to rest,” Hunter said. “When was the last time you even ate something that wasn’t a ration bar?”

You shrugged, your shoulders rising then falling. Truthfully, you didn’t know the last time you even ate a ration bar. You had been so wrapped up in finding an answer, you neglected yourself. Was it healthy? No. But what part of your grieving process had been? Working yourself to the bone, working until your mind felt like goo, hardly did anything for you. 

Hunter repeated your name with a shake of his head. Ever since Omega had joined the Batch, Hunter developed and perfected the disappointed dad look. You found yourself looking away again, if only to not have to see the worry in his eyes. But you knew he could hear the way your stomach gurgled, practically begging for something—anything. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. And, you were. At least, you were sorry that you were only adding to the weight on Hunter’s shoulders. He already had so much on his plate. He shouldn’t have to worry about making sure you were taking care of yourself. 

“C’mon, Shep invited us all to dinner,” Hunter said, unwinding himself from you, ready to walk out of the Marauder, expecting you to follow. When you remained where you stood, he turned his head. “Everyone misses you. You can’t stay in here forever, sen’ika.”

“I’m not gonna stay in here forever. Just until I find out where Omega is.”

Hunter’s jaw ticked. He hated every reminder that she was gone. He hated every reminder that he had been completely powerless to stop Hemlock from taking her. He hated every reminder that there was nothing he could do. 

“She’s our family, Hunter. You made a promise to her.”

A low blow, to be sure. Hunter had sworn that Omega would never have to go back to Kamino again. He had sworn that Omega would never be experimented on again. He broke the first promise months ago. And…Well, neither of you could be certain that the second one had been broken, too, but neither of you would be surprised if that was the case. 

To throw that back into Hunter’s face now, it was a real shitty thing to do. There was no doubt in your mind that Hunter had already thought about that a thousand times over by now. Hunter would never let anyone in his family know he was struggling, but…Well, even without enhanced senses, you could hear him at night when he thought you and Wrecker were asleep. 

He turned more fully, his eyes narrowed at you. “Don’t do that.”

“At least I’m doing something.”

“There’s nothing we can do. Not right now. The facility was already impossible to find. It’ll be even harder now that Hemlock’s got what he wanted. He didn’t spend so much time trying to get Omega just to let her be taken back by us.” Hunter took a step forward, using every inch of his height to tower over you. If you were anyone else, you would have been intimidated. But this was Hunter—he wouldn’t hurt you. “We got lucky with the summit, and we all know how that ended.”

Okay, he might not hurt you with his fists, but he certainly could with his words. Which, you supposed, was fair. You’d started it, after all. Don’t dish out what you can’t take, and all that. Still, your bottom lip quivered at his words. You knew that. You knew how it ended. That’s why you were doing this. That’s why you were doing all of this. 

“Quit fightin’,” came an all-too-familar voice. 

Your face fell when Wrecker’s looming form came into view. His shoulders were slumped, his eyes downcast. He was worse for wear, much like you. Except, unlike you, he showed it in a more obvious way. Wrecker had always been the sort of person, at least as long as you’ve known him, to wear his heart on his sleeve.

“Oh, Wrecker,” you sniffled. It was harder to keep your emotions controlled around him. Where you didn’t want to add to the weight Hunter carried, when it came to Wrecker, you hated for him to feel alone his grief. You stumbled forward, throwing your arms around him. “We’re not fighting. We’re just…We just don’t know what we’re doing.”

“I don't know what I’m doin’ but I ain’t pickin’ fights with my vode,” Wrecker said. 

Behind you, you heard Hunter sigh before walking up to the two of you and joining the hug. Wrecker squeezed you and Hunter tight as Hunter said, “I’m sorry, sen’ika.”

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

“You’re right. We can’t just sit around here anymore.”

You lifted your head, eying hunter. Surely he wasn’t suggesting…? “What are you saying?”

“I think it’s time we do something.”

It felt strange, piloting the Marauder. Tech had been the one to fly the ship most often. If he for any reason couldn’t, Echo took over. Now that Echo was with Rex, and Tech was…gone, the remaining three of you kind of felt like you were drawing straws when it came to deciding who the new de facto pilot would be. Eventually, though, you volunteered. Wrecker was a bit too accident-prone for your liking, and you knew Hunter could better use that time by making plans. So, you slid into Echo’s co-pilot chair, grit your teeth, and bared through it. 

It almost would have been relaxing, if the situation arose under any other circumstances. There was something calming about flying through hyperspace, looking out at all the stars whizzing by. It reminded you of the first time you’d ever flown. How you left the planet you called home for the first time (and never went back). How, even though you were just barely an adult at the time, seeing all those stars made you feel like a little kid again. Even all these years later, you were as mesmerized now as you were then. 

You also felt as alone now as you had then. 

Deciding to sit in Echo’s co-pilot chair had been something of a mistake, you realized when you made the jump into hyperspace. You found yourself looking over at Tech’s chair, imagining what he would be doing if he were still there. Probably telling you about the planet you were traveling to—its history, its native animals, its people. Maybe you would ask him about the system, about the planet’s moons, about its neighboring planets. He would answer every single one without hesitation. 

When you look over his chair now, it hits you that you’ll never get to hear him talk again. That you’ll never get to hear his voice again. How long had it been since you heard it? Edging onto the third week? You could hardly remember what he sounded like. When you shut your eyes, tried to imagine him talking to you, his voice became more and more garbled, became more like the voices of his vode than his unique tone.

For a moment, you squeezed your eyes shut. Now was not the time to be thinking of how much you missed him. You had a job to do now.

Echo was waiting when you landed the Marauder at Rex’s secret base on some far off planet in the Outer Rim. He offered a small smile as you, Wrecker, and Hunter exited the Marauder and approached him. You knew he was probably glad that you all had decided to join the cause, but he was well aware that you all wouldn’t have joined if there were any other options. 

“Long time, no see,” Echo joked, but his tone lacked any mirth. 

It was hard to joke around nowadays. What was the point of being happy, of sharing laughter, when you couldn’t share it with those you’ve lost? Even Wrecker, the usual ball of sunshine, seemed to find less and less to laugh about. At least, that’s what you assumed. Wrecker, by and large, still avoided you, still worried that you blamed him for what happened. When he was around you, like now, he only wore an uncharacteristic sullen look on his face.

“I was almost expecting you all to be slumming it out here,” you mused, looking around the base. It wasn’t spectacular—paled in comparison to the former Republic forces or an Imperial fleet. But it was a larger operation than you expected. “Senator Organa must be quite gracious in his donations.”

“Not as gracious as he’d like.” Rex walked up from behind Echo, smiling at you and his brothers.  “But we make do with what we’ve got.”

“It is impressive,” Hunter said. “So, what do we got to do around here?”

“Well, we just got confirmation that of some defected clones being held on Cato Neimoidia that are looking to join the cause, if you’re up for it.”

“Do we get to blow anything up?” Wrecker asked. 

Rex let out a chuckle. “Probably not for this mission, but maybe the next.”

Wrecker’s shoulders deflated a little. 

“We’re in,” Hunter said. 

Rex nodded. “Echo will take you to the briefing room. Most of the plans have been made, but we could always use your…unconventional flair.”

While the others walked off to the briefing room, you remained in the hangar, looking around. This was everything you all wanted to leave behind when Phee brought you to Pabu. The plan had been to never fight again, unless absolutely necessary. You thought you all might be lucky enough to not have to fight for months, maybe even years. You never expected for the necessary moment to come so soon. 

“You doing okay?”

You jumped at the feeling of a hand on your shoulder. When you turned your head, you saw Rex staring at you, his familiar but oh-so-different brown eyes searching yours. 

“Just thinking about how everything changed so fast. We went from fighting for the Republic, to fighting to survive, to fighting to save our family in the blink of an eye.” You looked away, out at another ship that was landing, clones exiting the ship. Though they were far away, you could see their solemn expressions. A failed mission, you were sure. More lost brothers. “I’m glad to be here. I’m glad to be doing something to help. I’m glad to be in a position where I can find out where Omega has been taking…But, Maker, Rex, I’m sick of fighting. Aren’t you?”

“Of course I am,” Rex said. “But I can’t rest until I know my brothers are safe. My brothers deserve more than being exploited by the Empire.”

“But what if it never ends? What if there’s always a fight? Won’t there come a time when you’re too tired to carry on?”

“I don’t know,” Rex admitted. “I don’t know what the future will hold. But, I do know that I could never forgive myself if I stopped fighting for what I believe in.”

You nodded, glanced back at him. You hesitated, just for a moment. Could you say what you felt? Would Rex judge you for it? You were sure he wouldn’t. Even if he did, you don’t think he would make you feel any lesser for it. 

“I don’t know what I believe in anymore.”

But Rex didn’t meet you with any judgment, no harsh words, no withering looks. Instead, he only offered a sad sort of smile. “I felt the same when Order 66 was executed. Having to fight my brothers, then lose my brothers all in the same day…It was devastating. I was lost for a while.”

“How did you find yourself again?”

“I remembered something that the Jedi used to say, about the Force woking in mysterious ways. While I hated that I couldn’t save my brothers then, I knew that because I had my chip removed, I could use that freedom from the Empire to save my brothers that were still being influenced by the chip.”

You nodded.

“The Force works in mysterious ways,” he repeated. “Even if you’re lost now, you will find your way again. You’re too strong not to.”

But what if you’re tired of being strong?

“C’mon. We better make sure those boys stay in line, yeah? Who knows what insane plan they’ve concocted while we were gone.”

“Hey, give ‘em credit though. For as insane as it’ll be, it’ll be equally fun.”

It was not equally fun. In fact, it was probably the exact opposite of fun.

“So much for no explosives, eh?” you asked, firing your blaster at a trooper over Rex’s shoulder. 

“I said I was sorry!” Wrecker shouted.

Cato Neimoidia, it turned out, was crawling with Imperials. It had the whole operation far more complicated than it needed to be. You all had been expecting Imperials to be there, but it seemed like you guys couldn’t walk more than two feet without nearly running into the very people you all were trying to avoid. You all managed well enough, sneaking through the planet, trying to make it to the rendezvous point. That is, until Wrecker dropped his blaster and it fired at some sort of cargo the Imperials were transporting that immediately exploded on impact.

Now, you all were engaged in a shoot out. Maker, you wished Crosshair was here. This fight would have been over long before it started if he was around. You almost said as much to Hunter, but it felt a little too callous. You were sure he was already thinking the same thing. But that didn’t mean that he would change his mind about rescuing his brother. 

You ducked into an alley, trying to find a way out of this mess. And you found one. Or, rather, a way out found you. A door you hadn’t noticed before opened and a hand came out, grabbing you by the arm and dragging you in. 

“Hey!” you shouted, throwing your elbow on your free arm back. It connected with hard plastoid armor. You whipped your head around, ready to bite whoever grabbed you, when you saw the familiar brown and cybernetic eyes of Wolffe. 

“Easy, cyar’ika,” Wolffe said, letting your arm go. 

“You’re the one we’re supposed to be getting out of here?”

Wolffe hummed. “Boost and Sinker are trying to get the others in here, then we’ll talk. You all make quite the mess. Surprised Crosshair hasn’t taken the Imperials out yet.”

You looked away. He didn’t know. Why would he? “Crosshair is, was, I don’t know—it’s complicated. His chip activated, while the others’ didn’t. He decided to stick with the Empire.”

Wolffe raised a brow. “That doesn’t sound too complicated.”

“We think—I think he defected, but got captured. He sent out a message on one of our old comm channels, said Plan 88. Hunter thought it was a trap.”

“And you think different?”

“The Empire was after Omega for as long as we’ve been on the run.” At his questioning look, you explained, “Omega is your sister, a female clone. She’s a pure genetic replication of Jango Fest. Anyways, the Empire was after her and…then they captured her.”

“Which is why you think Crosshair wasn’t setting a trap.” Wolffe nodded, looking off in the distant. After a moment, he said, “Makes sense. It all does.”

“What do you mean?”

Boost and Sinker arrived with the others before Wolffe could answer. The door slid shut after Rex, the last one to enter, came inside. Sinker locked the door once he made sure everyone was there. For a few moments, everyone just stood there, staring at each other, trying to collect themselves after the fight they just endured. 

But you still had your questions, so you looked at Wolffe and asked again, “What do you mean?”

Wolffe glanced at Boost and Sinker. Then he looked back to you. “The three of us resisted the Order when it was given. We didn’t understand why we felt the urge to kill our buir, didn’t understand that it was a chip, but we knew we couldn’t follow through with the Order. We’ve been stuck here ever since. We tried to get through to our vode, but they were still being influenced by the chip. Eventually, the 104th was taken off this planet. We tried with the vode that took their place. They were more willing to hear us out, but…They were scared.”

Your brows pinched together. You looked at Hunter and Wrecker, wondering if they had the same questions as you. 

“The effects of the chip started to wear off. Our vode started to question the Empire,” Sinker said. 

“We know that already,” Hunter said.

“But do you know what happens when our vode start questioning orders?” Boost asked. 

“They get taken away. We don’t know where, we don’t know what for,” you said. 

“You hear a lot, when you’re in hiding. If you know what to listen for, that is,” Wolffe said. “When we realized that our vode was scared of something more than just being decommissioned, we got curious. It’s all just rumors, nothing confirmed. We don’t have any idea of where our vode are being taken, or even if the rumors are true.”

“They don’t all go there. And they don’t all go there immediately,” Boost said. 

“But we’ve heard it enough times to think it’s credible,” Sinker said. 

“Oh, just tell us already!” Wrecker said. 

Wolffe looked at you, trying to gauge your reaction. Finally, he said, “The rumors are, they’re experimenting on decommissioned clones. The Emperor’s interested in cloning, but we aren’t sure why.”

When you looked to Hunter, you saw the way his jaw clenched, the way his hands squeezed into fists. This wasn’t good. If that was true, if Omega was being experimented on so the Empire could learn more about the cloning process…That could spell for a world of trouble. You needed to save her. You needed to save her yesterday. Oh, how could you all have sat around, waiting for a clue to drop into your lap, when your daughter was being tortured by the Empire?

“Well, that changes everything,” you said.

#following orders: a tech bad batch story #tech imagine #tech x you #tech x y/n #tech x reader #tech x fem!reader #tech x female reader #tech fanfiction #tech fanfic #tech fan fiction #tech fan fic #tech fic #tech bad batch imagine #tech bad batch x you #tech bad batch x y/n #tech bad batch x fem!reader #tech bad batch x female reader #tech bad batch x reader #tech bad batch fanfiction #tech bad batch fanfic #tech bad batch fan fiction #tech bad batch fan fic #tech bad batch fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

[viola-ophelia]

20 questions for fic writers

tagged by @curufiin <3 thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

36! that sounds like a lot, but they're almost all oneshots and twoshots lol

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

145,180

3. What fandoms do you write for?

my three main fandoms are turn: washington's spies/amrev/18th century history, tolkien (silm, lotr, and the hobbit), and pirates of the caribbean, but i've written for a handful of other fandoms too. i've pretty much retired from marvel fic, but i've written a bit of that, and i've also written one (1) bridgerton and one (1) avatar: the last airbender fic lol.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

grieving for the living (273)

life is beautiful, but you don't have a clue (210)

lightning strikes (maybe once, maybe twice) (119)

never seen a love as pure (95)

be earnest and repent (88)

but these numbers don't reflect that the majority of my fics only have around 10-20 kudos! that's just the nature of writing for small fandoms like turn lol :3

5. Do you respond to comments?

i try to respond to every single comment, including on fics from years ago! i haven't been perfect at it this year since i've been so busy, but know that i read and deeply appreciate every single comment.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

oh gosh, this is a hard question because i'm an angst writer at heart. i do tend to prefer writing angst with a happy ending, but i've definitely written a few fics with purposefully devastating endings lol. i think i'd probably say the crown hangs heavy on either side - a turn AU that explores the idea of john andre and ben tallmadge switching places in the narrative - has the angstiest ending, since it actually has two alternative endings, and they're BOTH sad af lol.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

either the second chapter of sweet nothing (where i attempted to write a happy ending for jpeg) or never seen a love as pure, which is a very silly celegorm/aredhel fic where i imagined them both surviving the first age and ending up becoming tom bombadil and goldberry (i know it's a crazy concept but trust me, it kinda works lol).

8. Do you get hate on fics?

i've never gotten any legitimate hate comments, luckily! the closest thing i've gotten to hate is that i have gotten a handful of comments nitpicking canon/historical accuracy, which used to annoy me (because when i deviate from canon/history, whether in a big or a small way, it's almost always intentional and for the sake of the story rather than me just being a dumbass who didn't realize haha) but now i just ignore them. but i will say, the funniest/most memorable one of these i've ever gotten has to be the time someone commented on my a:tla fic (bury it and rise above) to inform me that "jeggings don't exist in the avatar universe" HAHA.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

i do sometimes write smut, but i almost never publish it because i generally prefer my published work to be PG-13 lol. (i think only maybe 2-3 of my published fics have some hints of fairly tame smut in them?) when i do write smut, it's usually M/F with a focus on reversing/subverting traditional gender roles.

10. Do you write crossovers?

i'm not the biggest fan of crossovers (i find that they're generally a bit unwieldy since merging two universes and two casts of characters into one is A Lot, and they're also pretty hard to do in a realistic and serious way - they tend to read as/verge toward crackfic territory for me) so i've never written one personally.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

*knocks on wood* no lol

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

no!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

not really, but i have co-brainstormed fics before - particularly the two silm AUs in this series, where @areyoutrueorfalse was instrumental in shaping the plots lol. (and of course the legendary harpson & caroline turn verse, which has yet to see the light of day but is one of my favorite things i've ever written!) @curufiin has also helped me craft some great fic ideas, especially with figuring out simcoe and andre's dynamic in power and control.

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

either jpeg (john andre/peggy shippen) or celegorm/aredhel for canon ships, but for oc/canon, anne/beckett, aka anntler (iykyk @ chaos clan lol)

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

ugh... the john andre turns au ;-; idk if that thing is ever resurrecting at this point but i wish i could magically complete it lol

16. What are your writing strengths?

characterization!! i really take pride in getting my characterization just right, and i think it's definitely the aspect of my writing that i've gotten the most positive comments about. i also famously write a LOT of character studies (i'm pretty sure it's my most-used tag on ao3 lol).

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i'm not very good at coming up with creative original plots, which is why i tend to write canon-compliant or slightly canon-divergent stories rather than full-on, innovative AUs (unless i have someone to brainstorm with <3).

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

i'm generally not a fan because i feel like it makes fics less accessible and more clunky to read. however, i also don't personally speak any other languages (except for some really rusty french) so i don't think it's something i'd ever do anyway lol. when i write a character who speaks another language (or tolkien elves, since they all technically speak various forms of elvish lmfao) i prefer to use dialogue tags, like

"'[english sentence],' he said in spanish."

"he said something in spanish that [MC who doesn't speak spanish] couldn't understand."

19. First fandom you wrote for?

in terms of published fic, it was lotr, but in terms of (thankfully) unpublished fic, i believe it was hamilton HAHA

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

it's like 3 years old at this point, but i will always be so proud of grieving for the living :)

i'm tagging @deathicus-sling @tallmadgeandtea @musicboxmemories and anyone else who wants to do this! sorry if you've already been tagged haha

#tag game #writing

[yjano]

All of me.

Part 5.

Pairing: Jake x Mc.

Warnings: slow burn, swearing, angst, a little fluff, smut, violence and other pairings.

Words: 5.2k

Author's note: Although this story is not related to the Duskwood game, I will add some of our beloved characters. Please read it only if you're into angst prison stories, slow burns, etc. A little hint: You will get to see some similarities to Jake and his gang from "Never The Same" fic.

I hated it, I really hated it in here. Just when I thought that things were going right. Or at least somewhat right, right wasn't exactly the best word to describe your situation inside a prison. Things were going fucked up once again. Three days had passed, three days in which things went pretty good. Jake was still keeping himself low and the other prisoners didn't bother me that much when Jake was with me.

Three days in which things actually looked somewhat good. At least until visiting time came around. My mother had come to visit me, but unlike the last few times I wasn't happy with her visit. My mother kept acting like nothing happened and whenever I mentioned my father she would change the subject as fast as possible.

I had no idea why she kept avoiding the subject like it was some kind of war subject, but it irritated me to the bone. I just wanted to know why my dad suddenly decided to turn his back to me and if my mother was having the same thoughts. Only problem was that there was really no way to mention the whole subject without my mother blurring out something random and rambling on about that until she thought that I had forgotten about my earlier question.

Problem with that was that I didn't forget my question and kept bringing it up, making the two of us go round and round in endless circles. Normally I hated the time limit I had when my mother came to visit me. But this time I was glad there was a time limit since our conversation was going nowhere.

At some point I had decided to completely block out my mother and focus on Jake and his visitor. This time Jake's visitor was once again another person than the last two times, a girl probably around my age with silky smooth blue hair. She had almost the same height as the the girl from before. But she was even shorter.

There were a few things that I immediately noticed once I looked over at the two of them. The first thing that Jake was the one who had clearly the upper hand in their conversation, it almost looked like he was scolding the girl.

The second thing that Jake's visitor was on the verge of breaking out into tears. The third thing that Jake had no idea that the girl was on the verge of tears.

"What do you mean that there is still no date for the birthday party Lex!? How much longer do I have to wait!?" Jake yelled angry at the girl in front of him.

"I'm trying Jake, I really am. I just need a little more time." Lex mumbled back without looking at Jake.

"I...I just need to fix two more things and everything will be ready."

"Well make it happen! It has taken you long enough, I am so done with this shit!" Jake yelled again and at the same time the short girl in front of him bursted out in tears. Both Jake's and my eyes widened at the sight.

"Oh my fucking god, don't make such a big deal out of the fact that I'm scolding you Lex. Why would you start crying about that." Jake sighed with an angry tone lacing his voice.

"I...I am not crying about that." Lex sobbed back at the angry guy in front of her.

"Then why are you crying for God's sake!?" Jake barked, clearly being more than done with the whole situation at hand. I didn't know what it was that made Jake that upset and angry but it clearly wasn't a birthday party they were talking about.

"The guard... He touched me before I came in here. He was checking my pockets for any goods that I couldn't bring in here and that fucker... He touched me." Lex now full on cried. My eyes widened even further while Jake's hand bawled up into tight fists.

"Which one?" Jake asked dangerously low at the girl that had now placed her hands over her eyes to hide her face from the other people in the room.

"The one that's next to the door." Lex whispered back and before anyone could register what was happening Jake had marched over to the man with his fists clenched against his legs.

"Sit down Dalton! Visiting time isn't over." The guard ordered without looking properly at Jake.

"I'm highly aware of that fact. I came here just to give you something. Next time think about who's visitor you sexually assaulting before you do it, let this be a warning." Jake casually said and within the blink of an eye his fist collided with the guard's right eye. Immediately followed by Jake's other fist that collided with the man's left jaw. He gave the guard two more punches to his ribcage and his stomach before three other guards came crashing inside the room and grabbed Jake, bringing him to the ground beneath them.

"You're gonna die for this Dalton!" The guard who had just been punched yelled while he slowly walked outside the room with his hand against his sore jaw.

"Gladly, don't you ever dare touch my friend again. Let this be a warning, this is nothing compared to what I can do!" Jake yelled back at him with more venom lacing his voice than I had ever heard. Jake got dragged away immediately after that and I didn't see him back until after visiting time.

The girl, I now knew as Lex, had left almost at the same moment. Tears had still streamed rapidly down her cheeks and with a quick few passes she had left the room. Ten minutes later I could finally say goodbye to my mother and I had almost run to our cell to see if Jake was alright.

Jake wasn't quite alright, but he didn't look too bad either. It was clear that he had been punished for his action back at the visiting room, but looking from the smile that was still plastered on his face it wasn't something he couldn't handle. There weren't any visible bruises and his body seemed to move fine. A soft sigh had left my mouth upon the sight in front of me and without giving it much thought I had placed myself down next to Jake on his mattress.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, it was nothing compared to normal. I'm still angry though. I get punished while their idiot of a colleague touched my friend in a sexual way. I will fucking murder him!" Jake spat out, spit literally flying from his mouth while he said it.

"Your friend left pretty upset, maybe you should give her a call on thursday." I offered, not being able to remove the image of the crying girl from my memory.

"Yeah, maybe-" Jake never got to finish his sentence. One of the guards suddenly appeared outside our cell, giving the bars a harsh ruffle.

"Dalton! Here, now! I've got someone on call for you, they say it's urgent!" The man barked at the two of us in the cell while he held out a mobile phone. I slowly lifted my eyebrow. Normally we weren't allowed to use cellphones but I guessed that this must be another one of those privileges that friend of Jake bought for him.

.

Jake focus.

.

I got up from my bed and walked over to the guard, grabbing the mobile from his hand and bringing it to my ear.

"Dalton." I said lowly.

"Listen you fucker, if you make my girlfriend cry one more time I will personally murder you! I get that you wanna get out of there, but you're going way too far now bro!" I heard Kaden's voice and rolled my eyes in irritation.

"I didn't make her cry you idiot!" I yelled back.

"You fucking did! Lex came home crying and-" He started again but I was quick to interrupt him.

"Your freaking girlfriend got sexually harassed by one of the guards here. I punched that idiot for what he did to Lex and got dragged away. I'd rather save your stupid girlfriend than make her cry. Make sure you get the full story next time before you jump to your own idiotic conclusions!" I barked back with an angry tone lacing my voice.

"I...What?" Kaden now softly whispered and a deep sigh left my mouth.

"You heard me, didn't you. Make sure you get her to work faster because I'm pretty done with this place and comfort her you fucker instead of calling me up being all angry and throwing around false accusations." I answered, slightly calming down.

"Sorry. Hang in there bro, just a little bit longer." He answered followed by the familiar click of him hanging up the phone. With a soft sigh I dropped the phone from my ear and gave it back to the guard.

"I freaking hate this place." I grumbled softly and let myself fall back down on the mattress next to Mc. She could only agree with that statement.

~

.

Mc focus.

.

"This is your last warning Dalton, do the routine or face the consequences!" I flinched slightly at the loud yelling coming from the guard that was right in front of me and Jake. Last night's events had changed something in Jake, something bad. It had been weeks since he disobeyed the rules at the prison.

It had been weeks since I had to make use of my blankets to make a makeshift cooling mechanism for Jake's bruises. It had been weeks since I saw the lifeless and arrogant look in Jake's eyes. It had been weeks since Jake lay with his back turned to me when we slept in the same bed.

The last few weeks had been going pretty smoothly for both me and Jake. Jake somewhat obeyed the rules and for weeks we hadn't been the centre of commotion if there was something happening. Jake's body had been getting stronger and there wasn't a single bruise left on his honey coloured skin. The healthier he got the prettier he looked in my eyes and it had been on more than one occasion that I hadn't been able to rip my eyes from the guy's bare back.

At night we always laid with our faces looking at each other. Jake most of the nights falling asleep before I did, giving me unlimited time to scan over the relaxed features of Jake's face before I would fall asleep myself.

Last night was nothing like that. Jake had almost instantly turned his back to me with a soft 'night' leaving his mouth. His muscles had stayed tense unlike any other night and a scary vibe emerged from the male's body.

The moment the guard had woken us up and ordered us to do our usual morning routine things started to get down hill even faster. Jake kept laying with his back turned to me, ignoring the guard completely. It had taken three rough shakes of my hand on his shoulder to get him up with an irritated huff.

Jake had left the cell without sparing a look at me, hanging against the bars with his arms folded. With soft steps I had followed him outside and just by looking at Jake, I had already known what was gonna happen next. Jake looked exactly like he did the first few weeks I had come inside the prison and it scared me more than anything.

I liked the version of Jake that he was lately, sure he still had a short temper and radiate some form of aggression and angryness but there were sweet and peaceful moments too. Moments that hadn't been there when I had first entered the prison, moments I didn't wanna loose. Jake had become somewhat of a friend to me and made the fact that I had to stay at this hellhole a little bit more bearable, something I wasn't ready to lose so soon.

I snapped back to reality when I heard the first blow hit Jake right next to me. My eyes widened and before I could fully register what was happening Jake had been dragged out into the open and two other guards made their way over to the struggling male.

Within twenty seconds all three guards where hitting Jake like he was some kind of rag doll. The first few hits looked like they did nothing to my cellmate, but the more hits that followed the more Jake crawled himself up into a ball to somewhat lessen the impact of the hits.

The moment Jake fell down on his hands and knees heavy laughter sounded through the room and with one last hit they left him alone, giving him a warning that next time they wouldn't stop at that point and go a little further if he touched one of their friends ever again. Not a sound had left Jake's mouth the whole time and the only thing I could do was watch the whole act in fear of the health of my friend.

"Estrada! Help him up and go to the breakfast room. If I were you I would make sure he starts behaving like he did before or the consequences will be much worse next time." The guard whisper yelled at me and gave me a soft nod allowing me to leave my position and go to Jake.

With a few quick steps I ran over to Jake and dropped myself on my knees next to the wounded male. I softly placed a hand on Jake's shoulder, only for it to be shrugged off by my cellmate immediately.

"Jake, please. You need help." I tried to lock eyes with him, but Jake refused to look my way. With a soft sigh I placed my arm over Jake's back and forced one of his arms over my shoulders.

"I know that you don't want this, but you're in no position to deny me or get up yourself so please let me help you." I started to get up slowly, soft grunts leaving Jake's mouth occasionally.

"Can you walk?" Worry laced my voice and I gave him a concerned look. Jake's eyes where barely open and his body hung heavy against my one.

"I could try to carry you-"

"No!" Jake whisper yelled at me while he tried to unwrap himself from me.

"Stop it! You are in no world able to walk by yourself right now. I get it that you don't like this at all, but we have no other options. So either start walking or let me try to carry you!" Anger voiced through my voice.

I was done with Jake's bratty attitude and the fact that the male thought that he could do everything by himself while he clearly was in no position to do so at the moment. We locked eyes for a short moment before I slowly started to walk with a beaten Jake on my side.

Slowly we made our way over to the breakfast room, soft grunts leaving Jake's mouth whenever I would walk too fast or bend his body in certain angles. We made our way over to our usual table and with a soft tud I sat him down on the bench.

"Lie against the wall so your muscles can relax a little, I will get breakfast for the both of us." I ordered and I left Jake to do as I said.

When I came back I was glad to see that Jake had followed my orders and indeed lay his back against the wall to lessen the tension on his muscles a little. I placed the plate down in front of him and offered Jake a piece of bread with egg. He watched me through hooded eyes and slowly grabbed the piece from my hand.

"I know you don't wanna hear it but you need to rely on me for the rest of the day Jake. Just do what I tell you or your body will be even worse by tonight. Don't fight me on this, please. I just wanna help you, I hate seeing you like this." I whispered without looking at Jake.

He never gave me an answer but by the actions that followed the rest of the day I understood that Jake was indeed doing what I had asked of him. I had placed Jake against our counter at the washing room, ordering him to touch nothing and let me do all the work.

Whenever I had the chance I sat Jake down on one of the baskets to release his legs from the constant weight of his body. I was quick to learn the walking route of the guards and a few hours later I could blindly tell Jake when he was being able to sit down and when he needed to stand up and look busy.

A small smirk had formed on Jake's mouth at seeing me pick up on these skills so easily. After watching me and seeing if I indeed got the walking routes right for him, he followed the orders that I barked under my breath without any problems. It had been right before lunch break that I had ordered him to get up and follow me to the toilets.

I kept looking at him with worry and once we reached the stalls I pushed Jake inside one of them, following him instantly after checking if nobody had followed us.

"Sit." I ordered once again and pointed a finger at the toilet seat. "I need to see how bad the bruises are."

I helped Jake to sit down on the toilet and slowly started to lift his shirt. My eyes immediately grew wide when I saw the already black and blue bruises being formed on Jake's body. Fuck. I softly placed a finger against one of the bruises and Jake immediately flinched away from my touch with an angry grumble leaving his mouth.

My eyes darted over Jake's body and there was literally almost no normal skin visible. His whole torso was covered in nasty black and blue bruises and when there weren't any bruises the skin had turned an angry red colour.

There was no way I was being able to cool the bruises properly right now and by the looks of it the bruises where going to need a lot more caring than just some cooling with a blanket. The only problem with that was that I literally had no other options in our small shared cell once we got back.

I gave Jake his shirt back and helped the male to get it on properly. Again some groans of discomfort left his mouth and I helped him to get back to the breakfast room that now served purpose as lunch room. I repeated the same routine I did this morning and not even two minutes later I was offering Jake little pieces of food while I was thinking of a plan how to help him.

~

I kept looking out for Jake like my life depended on it. The male grew more and more tired as the day passed on and by the end of it he was barely able to stand on his own feet. I almost dragged Jake inside our shared cell and carefully placed him on his matress.

A deep sigh left Jake's mouth the moment he felt his back hit the mattress and heavy breaths immediately took over his body. I climbed a little up towards my own bed and grabbed my blanket and pillow from it in a forceful manner. Without a second thought I drenched the blanket into the toilet once again.

With a dripping blanket in my right hand and a pillow in my left hand I made my way over to Jake. I softly placed my hand under Jake's head and lifted him up a little to place the second pillow under his head to make him sit up more.

"I'm gonna lift your shirt and try to cool the bruises a little. Please tell me if I hurt you too much Jake." I whispered and lifted up his shirt.

I softly placed my fingers on the biggest bruise on his ribcage. The bruise had a nasty blue almost black colour and the skin around it had turned an angry red colour. The bruise was almost as big as the palm of my hand and everytime I added the slightest pressure on it Jake would flinch involuntarily.

Small tears started to form in my eyes and my vision fell from Jake's bruised torso on his face that only displayed discomfort. Jake's eyes were tightly shut, heavy breaths left his mouth in little puffs, a deep frown was visible on his forehead and his skin had almost taken on the colour of white sugar.

He looked terrible and the only thing I wanted to do was to help him but I had no idea how. I wasn't a wizard who could remove the bruises with a flick of my wrist and for all the methods I did know to help Jake I needed supplies I didn't have right now.

With a soft sigh I placed the cold blanket against his bruise. Jake immediately flinched at the touch and a harsh grumble of discomfort left his mouth.

"I'm sorry Jake, I don't know what to do to make the pain go away." A single tear started to drip down my cheek.

I felt so helpless, so useless. Jake needed me and I had no idea what to do. I lifted the blanket again and placed it down on another bruise that was a little lower than the huge one on Jake's ribcage. This one was a little smaller but looked almost as nasty as the last one despite the size difference.

I kept replacing my blanket every few minutes, sometimes dumping it in the toilet again to make it cooler between session, but nothing seemed to help. Jake kept grumbling in discomfort everytime I placed or removed the blanket from his body and his face kept showing the same discomfort it had when I started the whole process.

I was about to replace the blanket for the probably twentieth time when I heard the familiar sound of a baton against cell bars ring through the hallway.

"Everybody up! Check ups before bed time!" The guard yelled around the hallway.

My eyes widened and darted around our cell. There was no way I was being able to fix my own bed and get Jake up to the front of our cell in the little time I had. Without giving it a second thought I threw my soaked blanket on my top bed. I pulled Jake's shirt down and started to get him up.

"Jake, please. You have to help me a little. They will give you another round of beatings if we aren't at the front within two minutes." I said desperately, almost crying while I hoisted Jake up with all my might.

I felt how Jake placed his feet on the ground beneath him and somewhat tried to stand on his own. His eyes slowly opened a little and the anger that radiated from them made me do a double take. Even now Jake still hadn't lost his fierce spirit. I slung his arm over my shoulders and with all my strength I was able to get him to the front of our cell just in time.

The guard that stood in front of our cell opened the door and ordered us to get out to follow the usual routine. Both of us walked out of the cell, but there was no way Jake was gonna be able to stand on his own while carrying out the routine.

He needed my support to stand and without it he would without a doubt fall face first against the pavement. I heard how the guard started to rummage through our cell and in a quick decision I placed Jake against the bars of our cell.

"Lean against my shoulder, you need to stand for a few minutes." I ordered him while I slowly placed Jake's arms in front of me. His head hung already low. I placed my own hands in front of me and I felt how Jake's weight kept getting heavier against me with the seconds that passed.

His body started trembling slightly and his knees looked like they were ready to give out at any moment. The guard walked out of our cell and gave both of us a quick look, a small smirk forming on his face.

"Estrada, step away from Dalton for a second please." The guard laughed while he slowly walked up to us.

I gave the guard a bewildered look, but refused to step away from Jake. If I would step away, he would fall down to the ground and would receive another beating. A beating I was sure Jake wasn't gonna be able to handle.

"Estrada, move!" The guard now yelled at me, but I held my ground.

Before I could fully process what was happening the baton had collided with my ribcage and I was sinking down on my knees slowly. A souring pain ripped through my body and a soft cry left my lips. Jake's weight left my body and stars started to form in my vision.

"Last warning Dalton!" The guard yelled and I slowly turned my head to their side.

Jake was struggling to stay up right and the guard was looking at him with a soft smirk on his lips. I placed my hand on the place the guard had just hit and another wave of pain immediately ripped through my body. If I felt like this I didn't even wanna know how Jake felt right now.

I hadn't been able to manage one hit making me question how Jake was being able to manage so many of them without showing any discomfort. My eyes traveled back to Jake, just in time to see how his legs decided to give out on him while the guard who had clearly been waiting for this moment readied his baton.

Jake sunk down on his knees, immediately followed by the first blow from the guard's baton to his upper arm. I could only watch in fear while Jake received another hit and another and another and... Jake's body fell lifelessly to the ground in front of me.

It didn't matter anymore how strong the male was mentally, his body wasn't able to receive anymore hits and shut down on him. Heavy laughs ripped from the guard's throat and small tears started to fall down my cheeks.

"Pathetic."

Was the only word that left the guard's mouth while he gave Jake one last kick against his arm. The male still didn't move and the tears kept streaming down my face.

"Let this be a warning Estrada. Obey the rules or there follows way more than that one hit you just received. Now get back in there!" The guard yelled at me and with a harsh grab around my upper arm I got thrown back inside our cell.

Jake's lifeless body followed shortly after and without sparing the two of us another glance the guard locked the door and walked away. I immediately crawled over to Jake and rolled him on his side to make sure he wouldn't swallow his own tongue and die right on the spot.

"Jake, please wake up." I sobbed while I pushed Jake's hair out of his face. "J-Jake... Please." I looked around myself trying to find something that could help me with the situation at hand but nothing seemed good enough or even useful. There had to be something that could help...

As if on cue my eyes fell on Jake's mattress. I couldn't lift Jake up on the mattress but I could bring the mattress to Jake and roll him on it. With a soft grumble of pain I stood up from the floor. My side was hurting like crazy but that was the last thing I could think about right now.

Jake needed me and I would help him, even if it was the last thing I would ever do in my life. With another painful grumble I dragged the mattress from Jake's bed and placed it beside the male. I knelt down on my knees and softly rolled Jake on his other side so he would be placed on the mattress instead of the cold hard floor.

I slowly lifted Jake's shirt to see more and more black bruises surrounding his torso. With a little struggle I managed to undress his upper body and walked back over to my own bed. The wet blanket was still there. I grabbed the blanket and dumped it once again inside the toilet. With a soaked blanket in my hand I dropped back down on my knees next to Jake's torso.

The pain in my own side kept growing stronger but I ignored it as best as I could. My pain wasn't important right now, Jake was. I wiped my hand over my cheeks to get rid of most of the tears and started to cool Jake's bruises like I had been doing before the guard came and decided to make my task even more difficult.

Seconds felt like minutes and with each one passing and Jake not waking up I grew more and more concerned.

"Jake, please. You need to wake up." I whispered while I pushed Jake's bangs out of his eyes again. I placed my blanket on Jake's back and as if my prayers had been heard a soft grumble left Jake's mouth.

"Thank god, you're alive. Lay still your body suffered a lot of injury."

Another grumble left Jake's mouth and he slowly opened his eyes. My eyes instantly locked with his and a soft smile fell on my face while one single tear trickled down my cheek.

"Why...the...f-fuck...d-did...you...take...that...hit..." Jake grumbled out almost inaudible but clearly angry at me.

"Because I had no choice. If I had stepped away from you, you would have gone face first to the floor. I couldn't let that happen Jake." I answered simply while I repositioned the blanket, followed by a grumble of discomfort coming from the male. He looked through hooded eyes at me but never gave me another response.

"Do you think that you can get up with my help? I'm gonna put my mattress on your bed but I'm not strong enough to get you on it by myself."

Jake gave me a small nod, making me smile brightly. I threw my wet blanket in a corner of our cell and not even two minutes later my own mattress was placed on Jake's bed. After a pretty big struggle I managed to get him on the bed. I pushed the now wet mattress back on my own bed and grabbed the still dry blanket from the floor.

With the blanket placed tightly in my hand I walked back over to Jake. He was already watching me and a small smile fell on his face. I draped the blanket over his sore body and placed myself as soft as possible next to him.

"You know Mc...You would have made a damn good nurse if it wasn't for the fact that you're in here with me." Jake's eyes closed slowly and a few seconds later heavy breaths left his body. I could only hope that someone else would tell me that too, under different circumstances.

#duskwood #duskwood jake #duskwood mc #duskwood family #duskwood fandom #jake x mc #mc and jake #duskwood fanfiction #everybyte studio