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retrievablememories · 6 months

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cherry bomb | part 2 | jungkook (m)

pairing: jungkook x fem reader

summary: after your town goes into lockdown because of the cherry bomb massacre, you find out that the murderer's interest is on you. eventually, you’re left with no choice but to face him.

genre: horror/slasher, angst, smut, college!au

word count: 13.7k

warnings: major character deaths, gaslighting, hallucinations, anxiety/paranoia, grief, trauma, violence (including knife and gun use), torture, blood, gore, descriptions of dead bodies, a funeral scene, fuckboy!JK, oral (fem receiving), fingering, finger-sucking, handjob, cumplay(?), hair-pulling

a/n: this part is quite rougher than the first, so heed the warnings. same notes as the last part—not meant to be entirely realistic since this *is* a slasher. block/filter as needed. i didn’t mention this in part 1 but this fic is not set in present day; more like somewhere in the 2000s? i don’t think this fic would work as well with all this advanced technology/the prevalence of social media now

...also, i had this story all written out and then decided to completely change the plot at the last minute because i figured out a way to write the original plot i had wanted to do from the beginning. 💀 yeah…just leave your thoughts below

taglist is at the very bottom of the fic—for some reason i wasn't able to tag everyone who requested, so please reblog this fic so folks can see it

sources for the fic dividers: one | two

link to part 1

you’re standing in front of some stranger’s house in the early hours of the morning, your body heavy from exhaustion as your adrenaline has run out. this is not at all how you expected your night to end when you left your dorm hours ago. it must’ve taken at least 40 minutes to get to this house, and you’re less familiar with this part of town, which you try not to feel uneasy about. you suppose the farther away from the scene of the carnage, the better.

jungkook bangs on the door, calling out the name yoongi-hyung until the porch light comes on. though it’s illogical, you’re tense with apprehension that the murderer could somehow appear at any moment, and you hope whoever yoongi is lets the both of you in soon. so much for no longer looking over your shoulder.

a man with hair just as long as jungkook’s answers the door, looking disheveled and annoyed. “why the fuck are you banging down my door at nearly 2 am—"

yoongi stops speaking as he eyes the both of you up and down, his gaze going from the bite mark bruises you left on jungkook’s neck to the dried blood on your face to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. his expression is between surprise and curiosity. “what the fuck is going on here?”

“can we talk inside?” jungkook says, though he doesn’t wait for an invitation before pushing his way past the other man and stepping inside.

“uh…hi. sorry.” you step inside too, glad to not be out in the open anymore.

yoongi takes another look outside the door at the state of jungkook’s car before closing and locking it. “mind explaining this shit? i thought you were going to that party you told me about?

“i did,” jungkook says, his voice full of frustration. “the fucking killer showed up at the party.”

“the fuck are you talking about?”

“you know what i’m talking about. that werewolf-masked freak? he came and just started stabbing people to death. we watched him shoot a fraternity member in front of us, dude. that’s why my car looks the way it does.”

“the campus is probably dangerous,” you add. “that’s why we came here. we just need somewhere safe to stay for the night.”

yoongi goes to the window and draws back the curtain. he peeks out the small holes in the side of the blinds rather than pushing the blinds down to look outside. “and you’re certain he didn’t follow you here? i thought he only killed virgins anyway. why the hell was he shooting at you?” then yoongi turns away from the window and looks at you. “oh. is this why?”

feeling put on the spot, you blurt out: “look, i don’t think that matters much anymore. he seemed to be killing anybody who was in his way.”

“and he was on foot the whole time, so there’s no way he could’ve followed us,” jungkook adds.

yoongi shakes his head and walks away from the window. “whole town is fucked, then. come on.”

you’re relieved to be able to scrub the blood off your face and change into fresh clothes. you initially thought it was peculiar that yoongi had spare clothes ready for you to wear until he alluded to keeping them on hand for any of jungkook’s hookups that he brings over.

“sure—of course.” you’d just nodded and tried not to look embarrassed as you accepted the clothes.

even after showering you don’t feel entirely clean, though. you think it might be impossible to return to feeling anything like your former self after tonight.

the couch has a pull-out bed, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it would be just sleeping on a regular sofa, which you are grateful for. you’re still arranging the pillow and blankets when jungkook walks into the room holding his own bedding.

“i think i should sleep here,” he says.

“there’s no room on the couch for the both of us,” you protest, thinking he means to take your spot.

“i mean on the floor. earlier, you didn’t seem like you wanted to be left alone in here.”

“oh.” you try to take the edge out of your voice; it’s hard to be polite when you’re still so overwhelmed with stress. “that’ll be uncomfortable though.”

jungkook just waves his hand and dumps his pillow and blanket on the floor before going to push the coffee table out of the way. “doesn’t really matter, i think we’ve been through worse tonight than sleeping on a hard floor…”

“thanks,” you say quietly, watching him spread his blanket out on the ground. you want to say something else, but you can’t think of anything.

“it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

after a few more moments of staring at jungkook as he arranges his sleeping area, you finally ask, “i was wondering how’d you meet yoongi? he doesn’t seem like he’s a college student. i’ve never seen him around our campus, at least.”

“he isn’t. he works as a music producer, so he’s out of town a lot, but this is his homebase. as for how we met—it’s a long story. he and my brother actually used to know each other, so…” you think he’ll explain further, but he just shakes his head. “but he’s a good friend.”

“i see. a music producer…nice. how cool for a little town like this.”

after everything is to his liking, jungkook gets under the blanket. “tonight was a lot, so try to get some sleep.”

you nod and turn the lamp off, though you’re doubting you’ll get any peace tonight. “yeah…you too.”

SATURDAY MORNING, NOV 4

you wake up around 11 a.m. on a strange couch wearing strange clothes in a strange room. with your brain’s half-conscious state, your terror reawakens; you think maybe you’ve been kidnapped by the murderer and the car ride with jungkook last night was a dream—until yoongi pops into your mind.

you try to regulate your breathing and settle back beneath the blanket, though you know you won’t be going back to sleep.

you haven’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in total, broken up into 20-minute intervals across the hours. every time you’ve tried to close your eyes and drift off, you see the frat member’s skull bursting apart again, shocking your entire nervous system. you can think of nothing but the piles of bodies and the deaths you witnessed. perhaps it’s better that you don’t sleep; you figure your dreams wouldn’t be any more tolerable than your thoughts.

as you shift around on the couch, your whole body screams with soreness. your arms, your ribs, your sides, your legs, and—to a lesser extent—even between your thighs where jungkook was last night.

you glance over and see that he’s still sprawled on the floor, blanket halfway kicked off. he’s actually awake, his face turned away from you as he blinks slowly and stares at nothing, but he doesn’t say anything and so neither do you. with you spending most of your night awake, you saw that he was able to get more rest than you did. lucky him.

it hurts to move, but you reach for your phone and check for any signs of lorelai. none. there is one text from camille, sent 40 minutes ago.

➤ camille: I talked to Lorelai’s sister. She went to go see about a missing persons report. The police took her information but didn’t seem very concerned about it and said she might have just stayed the night with other friends after the party. Apparently a lot of others had the same idea as you. Campus is a ghost town. They’re still identifying all the bodies, so no word yet.

➤ y/n: so we just have to sit here and wait to see if she’ll turn up alive or dead? that’s useless.

➤ camille: As per fucking usual with the pigs.

➤ camille: She also told me there’s supposed to be a lockdown or something. It’s on the news.

➤ y/n: a lockdown???

looking around the room, you spot the TV remote sitting on yoongi’s coffee table a few feet away. you try to sit up, but it takes you a couple minutes longer than you anticipate because of the pain. jungkook notices the movement from the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. “what are you doing?”

“tryna get the remote.”

jungkook grabs it and hands it to you, and you turn the TV to one of the local news channels.

➤ camille: They’re telling people not to leave their homes for anything non-essential while they search for him. Not sure how long that’s supposed to last. I guess now they wanna get serious about this fucking killer? Too late for that.

you and jungkook watch as the newscaster gives a rundown of last night’s events; to your small relief, it looks like the killer didn’t try to go to the campus after the murders at the party house. the newscaster goes on to announce that the police are instating a citywide curfew, which they’ll discuss further at a press conference in the afternoon. in the meantime, they advise everyone to only travel in groups, shelter in place if possible, and keep all windows and doors locked.

you laugh humorlessly, and jungkook glances at you again. “in groups? we were all packed into one damn house at the party, and how much did that help?”

➤ y/n: are you sure you’re okay at the uni?

➤ camille: I’m fine. My roommate brought some of her friends into our room so no one’s left alone. Either way, my dad is coming to help me move some of my things out and come back home.

➤ y/n: okay, please just stay safe.

➤ camille: You too.

“what now?” jungkook says once the newscast goes off. “everybody just stays holed up for like a month while they hunt for that guy?”

you roll your eyes. “people won’t stay in their homes for that long. i don’t know how any of this is gonna work. we wouldn’t be in this mess now if they’d cared when this first started happening.”

“you think so? students would still be getting killed. the only difference is that a good chunk of people would just be sitting at home freaking the fuck out and too scared to go anywhere while the killer would still be on the loose.”

“…damn. it’s truly bleak to assume we’d still be in the same situation. you’re an optimistic one.”

“better than deluding yourself about it.”

“whatever. where’s your family to freak out over you? somebody should be concerned about your whereabouts by now. didn’t you say you have a brother? speaking of, i’m gonna have to call my sister soon…”

jungkook turns back to the TV, and you can tell he’s become more tense than he was seconds ago. “yeah, but i’m estranged from them. yoongi’s my family.”

wrong thing to ask. you wonder about the reason for it but decide it’s probably better not to pry. “ah…that sucks.”

jungkook looks back at you like he’s irked by that response, but he makes a noise resembling a chuckle. “tell me about it.”

later that afternoon, after you’ve reassured your sister veronica on her work break that you are fine and at a “friend’s” house (because you have no clue how to refer to either of these men), you and yoongi sit at the kitchen table with brunch while jungkook goes outside to examine the damage to his car more closely.

it’s difficult to eat, but you do so anyway; you don’t want to be rude by wasting the food yoongi made. the news station still plays loudly from the living room as you wait for the press conference to come on.

“so, about you and jungkook...” yoongi starts, looking at you from over the rim of his cup of coffee.

“what about me and jungkook?”

“we both know he didn’t get those bites on his neck from a wild animal attack.”

you sit up straighter in your seat, a sudden spike of irritation hitting you. “aren’t we all grown here? who cares?” you try to sound unbothered despite feeling very green about all of this. after all, you’d only had sex for the first time last night.

“look, i don’t care. fuck him all you want. i’m just trying to advise you not to get emotionally involved, because that’s not how jungkook operates. the amount of girls i’ve had somehow coming after my neck when their situationship with him doesn’t work out is starting to get really old. it’d be best if you didn’t do the same.”

you’re simultaneously annoyed at his assumption of you and flustered because you want to prove him wrong about acting the same as the other girls. you hate both feelings. “i don’t want anything like that with him. i just needed something done and i got it. it doesn’t matter anymore.”

yoongi shrugs, and you get the sense he’s heard that before and isn’t convinced, but you can’t be bothered going back and forth with him about this.

the press conference comes on TV a few minutes later. they announce that classes at your university are cancelled indefinitely; parents and relatives will need to come move their students out, and the school will be operating with a skeleton staff and increased security presence for any students who can’t leave the campus. the citywide curfew will be at 8 p.m. every night, by which time almost everyone will need to be in their homes, and it will end at 6 a.m each morning.

“fun,” you say sarcastically. “at least i won’t have to worry about finals and trying not to get murdered at the same time.”

when jungkook comes back inside, you let him know about what he missed from the press conference.

“we should just stay here for now.” when you raise your eyebrows, jungkook says, “i basically live here when i’m not on campus for classes. plus yoongi-hyung lets me bring girls here all the time, this is nothing new.”

“if both of you are gonna be hiding out in my place, we’ll need to go to the store,” yoongi says. “more mouths to feed.”

“…or i could just go home?” you propose, your mind reeling at them already making plans. you feel awkward about staying in a stranger’s house for who knows how long. “i think we only really needed to stay here for the night. it’s fine.”

“will you have people there with you?” jungkook asks. “it’s not safe to be alone.”

you’re surprised he seems to be this concerned, but you answer: “well, i mean…my sister works 12-hour shifts as a nurse and she’s the only one living there, so…” you’d chosen your university because your older sister lived in the area, and because it was a tradition for women in your family to attend that school, but there were no other relatives you could turn to. your parents lived a couple of towns away.

yoongi comes to the conclusion so you don’t have to. “in other words, you’ll be alone most of the day.”

“…i guess. but i’m really not tryna impose on you by staying here.”

yoongi tilts his head, a small smirk on his lips. you automatically dislike the look on his face. “why don’t you take jungkook with you, then?”

you and jungkook glance at each other. “but, hyung…”

yoongi shakes his head. “you already know i can take care of myself. seriously, don’t worry about it.” and then yoongi winks at you. you don’t know for sure, but you take that to mean he’s probably packing heat like camille’s dad.

“if you’re sure.” turning to you, jungkook says, “so, how about it?”

“it’s my sister’s house, so i’ll have to ask her,” you say tentatively. “yeah…uh. let me do that now, i guess.” you pull out your phone to text her about it, though you know it’ll be a while before she gets another work break and can answer. “in the meantime…i think we’ll need to go to the store either way. and then to campus to pick our things up.”

“you’re right. let’s go then,” jungkook says.

the store is full of people panic-buying food and necessities in preparation for the curfew and effective lockdown, which you expected. you and jungkook end up going your separate ways to find the things you need because it’s quicker that way, and because you want to get in and out of the store as soon as possible. the crowdedness is too much like the party, and despite yourself, anxiety begins rising in you due to the claustrophobic atmosphere. you try to maintain even breaths as you keep searching for items. just what you need—a shiny new trauma to make your life harder.

you pass by a man in one of the less-crowded aisles before realizing he’s standing in front of what you need to get, examining one of the food packages. you wait a few moments to see if he’ll finish up soon, and when your eyes begin to wander, you see that there’s a long gray hair clinging to the back of his leather jacket, standing out clearly against the black. you probably wouldn’t have noticed this at all on any other day, except your mind has been on high alert for hours now; you find it strange that this strand clearly doesn’t match the shade or length of the hair on his head, which is short and plain brown. the shade of the hair also weirdly reminds you of something, though you can’t quite recall what; it remains just out of your mind’s reach.

you shake your head. he could’ve come to the store with somebody who has long gray hair, or hugged them before he left home, and a strand stuck to his jacket. it’s the least of your issues right now.

the man must feel your presence behind him because he turns around to look at you. you’re a little taken aback by his gaze; his expression isn’t mean per se, but very intense, as if his entire focus is trained on you.

there’s a second’s pause, like he’s thinking about something before he speaks. “am i in your way?” he asks, never breaking eye contact. his voice doesn’t portray any particular emotion.

“i just have to get something really quick.” he steps aside and gestures to the rows of food without a word. you slip in beside him and grab what you need before moving away again. “thanks.” you think about telling him about the hair on his jacket but decide against it; your decision is solidified when you spot a wolf figurine keychain on his keys, faded from time but still distinguishable. it makes your breath catch.

there’s no way it could be him. it was kind of dark in the party house with nothing but string lights and lamps illuminating it, and everything happened so quickly…but you do remember the colors of that mask. red, yellow, black—and that dark gray for the fur.

but maybe it’s really all just a coincidence; how much sense would it make to turn every person with wolf paraphernalia and random stray hairs into a suspect?

you walk down the rest of the aisle and away from the man with growing unease. maybe it’s time to find jungkook so you can get out of here; you can hardly keep yourself together, and despite your best attempts at logic, you can’t stop yourself from getting more frantic about those two things.

speeding up your walk and weaving through people, you look down every aisle in search for jungkook before you find him, rushing over to him as you breathe heavily.

“whoa, what the hell is wrong? did somebody do something?”

“no, i…”

“what happened?”

“it’s the…well, the…i saw, uh…”

“y/n.”

“i saw—the mask. the fur from the mask. do you remember it?”

“…you mean that stupid ass werewolf mask?” you gesture for jungkook to lower his voice. “wait, you’re saying you saw it in here?”

“no, i saw a man who had a strand of hair on his jacket…” it starts sounding ridiculous to your own ears the more you speak, but you continue. “the strand—it was the same color as that fur. the same length! and he—he had some weird wolf keychain…”

jungkook stares at you for a long moment before sighing. “you’re not serious? a random strand of hair that could be from anybody or anything? that could be from someone’s fucking grandma for all we know. plus a keychain…maybe he just likes wolves, y/n.”

you already know that saying i just feel like something is off won’t be enough to convince him. you sigh with a deep sense of defeat, considering that he’s probably right. maybe your initial assumption was the more sensible answer. “…right. i think i’m just really fucked up right now after everything that happened. can we finish up here?”

“yeah, we will. because you definitely need to lay down soon or something. you haven’t had any sleep all night, right?” the way jungkook eyes you with concern as if you’ve lost your mind annoys you. you’re about to give a smart remark when you notice something in the carrying-basket he has.

“…a baseball bat?”

“if the killer comes after us again, duh. we’ll be prepared this time. or at least i will.”

“good luck with that if he happens to have another gun.” rolling your eyes, you brush past jungkook to go to one of the checkout counters.

in the parking lot, you see that the man from earlier has also come out and is putting the last of his grocery bags into his car trunk. there’s really nothing spectacular about his appearance that would make him stand out in a crowd, with his average height and average looks, let alone incriminate him as a serial killer. yet that familiar unease won’t leave.

he sees you and jungkook walking towards the car together, and his eyes dart to the bullet holes in jungkook’s car. then he makes eye contact with you. you give a half-hearted wave, unsure what else to do with his eyes stuck on you. for a moment, his lips turn up into the faintest smile before he shakes his head and gets into his own car.

MONDAY, NOV 6

you’ve spent half of saturday and all of sunday trying to get used to living in your sister’s house with jungkook. veronica had been surprisingly okay with having him stay over, though most of it was her being relieved you finally found “a potential boyfriend who’s actually cute.” you didn’t have the energy to argue with her.

you’ve also been constantly checking on camille (to her eventual annoyance) and seeing if there are any more updates on lorelai. still nothing. your dread grows the further away you get from that bloody friday, but you try to keep your thoughts from straying too darkly.

right now, you, veronica, and jungkook all sit on the couch together in a neat little row, a bowl of popcorn in front of you on the coffee table and some science-fiction B-movie playing on the TV. your sister proposed the idea to distract yourselves from everything going on, but so far, you feel like it isn’t very effective. at least not for you. your mind keeps wandering to other things every 5 minutes.

eventually, veronica yawns widely, stretching her arms and legs before rising off the couch. “okay, i’m getting tired as fuck. i need to go to sleep for work tomorrow anyway. you guys enjoy the rest of the movie, okay?” she pats your shoulder as she passes by you on her way out of the room.

jungkook waves. “oh, sure. goodnight.”

“night, sis.”

when jungkook’s attention goes back to the movie, your sister makes eye contact with you and points her finger at you menacingly. you give her a shocked look while she mouths you know what i mean and swirls her finger in jungkook’s direction. embarrassed at the implication, you roll your eyes and turn your head back to the TV screen. having sex with jungkook on your sister’s couch is not high on your list of priorities tonight.

after your sister is gone, jungkook spreads out on the couch like it’s his own living room, placing his legs right over your lap. you sigh, looking over at him—and hoping that your eyes don’t linger too obviously on the expanse of thigh muscle that’s now on display from his shorts riding up higher.

“…really? i don’t want your big ole legs in my lap.”

jungkook just grins. “you should lay down too, it’s more comfortable this way.” you stare at him, and he tries to egg you on by pulling the sleeve of your shirt. “come on.”

“i’m not laying down on top of you, if that’s what you’re after.”

you do end up lying down, but on the opposite side of the couch so that your legs are tangled together, which really just increases the amount of contact between you either way—but whatever.

this makes jungkook laugh more. “ha, it’s like we’re scissoring.”

“so damn corny.”

you two continue watching the rest of the movie, but by the end of it you don’t remember half of what happened. taking the remote, you flip through the channels and try to find something else to look at. there isn’t much interesting to watch on a random monday night—which would be a school night anyway, if not for the current context.

as you search for a channel, jungkook asks: “what would you do if you found out who the killer was?”

you squint your eyes at his odd question. maybe the obvious answer would be to alert the police. but after days of having your anger stoked like a fire, that’s not exactly the answer you’d choose. “maybe i’d kill him.” the words leave your lips easily, and you hardly think twice about them once they’re out.

neither of you speak for a few long moments.

“does that scare you?” you ask, after the silence starts annoying you. you want to laugh, but there’s nothing really funny about the situation.

“…not really. angry women are kinda sexy. so are dangerous ones.”

you scoff. “i’m not tryna be sexy, you fool. and how many dangerous women have you dealt with? seems to me you only have a thing for the innocents.”

“it’s not like i only fuck virgins. you don’t even know me like that.” he nudges your leg with his foot like he’s also annoyed, but his expression doesn’t show any actual irritation.

“…if you want to go back and forth about it, go outside and argue with the wall or something. i’m in no mood, jungkook.” you shove his foot off of you. “just, holy shit. i wish i could have just one hour where i don’t have to think about any of this shit. my mind can’t even breathe.”

he’s actually quiet for a couple minutes after. you think he’s moved on from the conversation until he finally says, “i can give you an hour.”

your body becomes alert at that. the insinuation in his tone is obvious. you glance backwards as if your sister could hear you from upstairs, though you know that’s illogical. “i got what i wanted from you already,” you whisper.

“so? what if i wanted to give you more? you know you’re allowed to have sex with a person more than once, yeah?” he chuckles.

here he is making you this offer, and once again you feel like you’ve been reduced to the state of a confused lamb in front of a hungry wolf. you realize that the idea of letting yourself get more physically entangled with jungkook scares you. he is not someone you can turn into a boyfriend, who wants to be a boyfriend, and you are only looking to save yourself from any potential hurt. “it would just be sex—right? you have to know i’m not looking for anything deeper from you.”

jungkook smirks. like with yoongi, you don’t know if he believes you. “i know.”

you want to undo almost everything from the past few days. you can’t forget, but for a while, you want to just exist outside of the timeline where there’s a killer on the loose and one of your friends is missing. it’s too much to handle; your body is approaching its limits for the amount of stress it can take. you need a balm to numb the pain and the fear, and you dislike that you are giving into your base instincts to do so. you feel guilty, somehow. but pleasure is easy. at least it has been whenever you sought it on your own—and now you have someone else to give it to you. someone who is in front of you now, proposing it with all the willingness in the world. maybe there’s really nothing wrong with saying yes.

“jungkook…”

“hm?”

“please just shut the fuck up and don’t say another word about the outside world right now. i don’t want to think about anything but your…” you falter, still trying to get used to expressing what you want sexually.

jungkook sits up, his hands sliding up your legs and to your hips. “but my what?”

“um, your…” your thoughts end when he leans down and pulls the hem of your sweater up, planting a kiss on your waist where your skin meets the waistband of your sweatpants. one kiss turns into a second, and a third. the fourth becomes an open-mouthed embrace of his lips on your skin, and you make a small noise of pleasure when his tongue gets involved.

“careful. don’t want veronica to come down here, remember?”

you huff. “that isn’t happening any time soon, believe me.”

his kisses continue as he begins to slide your sweatpants down, revealing the waistband of your panties. once they’re fully on display, he leans forward to nuzzle his face between your thighs, his mouth and nose pressing into the seat of your underwear. his actions take you off guard. you actually give a brief chuckle from surprise, though you are also somewhat embarrassed. “now what the hell are you doing?”

“let me savor my meal before i eat it.” his warm breaths tickle your inner thighs as he speaks.

“ugh, don’t turn me off.”

“that’s funny, because i seem to have an easy time getting you wet.” to prove it, his fingers press into the seat of your underwear to feel the wetness that’s seeped into them; you sigh from the brief pleasure his fingers’ movements afford you before he pulls them away.

jungkook drags your panties down next, his lips trailing down your lower abdomen and across the curls of hair covering your pubic mound. your body fills with anticipation at the gradual pace of his actions and the purposeful, wet caresses of his mouth.

when he uses his thumbs to press your lower lips apart and expose you more fully to him, you have half a mind to be self-conscious about it until he places his mouth on you in earnest.

jungkook eats like someone who hasn’t done so in a while and doesn’t know when he’ll get to do it again. his mouth sucks at your clit like he’s desperate for you to come, tongue rolling over the swollen nub in an unrelenting pattern that has your stomach tensing, and you quickly realize you do have to try to silence yourself even if you know it won’t wake veronica up. you twist your hands into the sleeves of your sweater and lean your head back on the couch’s armrest as you arch your hips up closer to jungkook’s face, uncaring about how vulnerable you feel completely offering yourself up to him like this; right now, all you want is to feel good.

“gonna come quick again? maybe we can set a new record?” jungkook pins your knee against the couch with his elbow to keep your legs open as he slides two fingers inside, diving straight in instead of working you up this time. your body breaks out in a sweat and you know you really won’t last long once he does this, the tips of his fingers aiming for that dreadful, wonderful, and overpowering place inside you. you don’t know how people do this—you feel like you’re going to die when he stimulates that spot, and all you want to do is scream even though you can’t.

“a r-record? fuck off…” you choke out, though you begin to rock your hips into the rhythm of his fingers, needing so badly for him to take you over the edge again.

he chuckles. “i don’t think you want me to fuck off right now.”

you have no words for a good comeback when he buries his head between your legs and slurps at your pussy again and crooks his fingers repeatedly to where your orgasm is unexpectedly rushing down upon you, causing your body to tense as you gasp and stifle any sounds that escape with your sweater sleeve.

jungkook doesn’t stop there and you don’t really expect him to, because you’re beginning to learn he isn’t a one-and-done type of man. he keeps sucking and stroking you right into another releasewhile you push the beanie off his head, fist your fingers into his strands, and tremble over the sight of his pitch-black mess of hair between your thighs. something about the visual is so appealing to you.

after he has made you come for the third time, you watch him sit up on his knees to reach into his shorts and pull his dick out, his darkened tip slick with precum. his long hair falls into his face as he glances downward, using the hand he’d been fingering you with to lube himself up with your cum.

“come here,” you tell him, your voice coming out sharper than you intended; but he doesn’t care, because he follows your request without a word and presses himself into your side. the couch is just big enough to accommodate both of you in this position, but it’s still a tight fit, and your bodies are once again tangled together.

“let me touch you,” you say, your palm pressed to his stomach, feeling the firmness of the muscle.

he raises his eyebrows, like you didn’t even need to ask. “of course.”

“no, i mean…” he realizes what you actually mean as you brush his hand away from his shaft and wrap your fingers around it instead.

“should i teach you how?” jungkook brings his hand to overlap yours, though his breath becomes a bit strained when you slide your hand to the base of his cock and back to the tip again, the pads of your fingers rubbing over the sensitive head. seeing your fingers around him turns him on more than he thought it could, and it’s just a simple fucking handjob.

you roll your eyes. “stroking a dickshouldn’t be that hard.”

“everyone likes it differently, though. fast, slow, soft, or rough…just the tip, or the whole shaft.” you can’t deny that—or the way you find yourself throbbing at his words, his voice husky from the pleasure. which is why you let jungkook close his hand more fully around yours and guide your movements.

it’s captivating to observe his reactions from your hand on his skin—the heavy breaths he lets out and the soft moans and even softer whimpers that come in between the exhales. whenever you squeeze his shaft more firmly or rub your thumb against his leaking tip, you find yourself grinning at the rise and fall of his chest and the tongue that darts out of his mouth to lick at his lips. but mostly, your eyes are drawn back to the sight of your hand working him over, his thighs and stomach tensing sporadically.

eventually, you both look away from your joined hands and at each other’s faces. your eyes dart to his lips and back to his gaze again, and you shift your face forward to signal your desire for a kiss. he meets you there by pressing his lips to yours, and it isn’t hard for him to get lost in the meeting of your mouths and the heat from your palm on his shaft.

your free hand returns to his soft hair to tug on it as your tongues slide against each other. he grunts at the burn of his roots being pulled but doesn’t stop you; on the contrary, his body responds favorably as more precum swells from his tip and his nipples poke against the material of his shirt.

“do you like that, jungkook?” you mumble against his mouth.

“you know i do.” at some point, his hand falls away and he lets you stroke him on your own.

jungkook gives a shuddering moan into your mouth when he climaxes minutes later, thick streams of his cum shooting onto his shirt and dripping down your hand. he tries to keep quiet and doesn’t entirely succeed, but it doesn’t much matter.

you squeeze the few remaining drops of cum from his cockhead, trying to make sure you don’t grip hard enough to actually hurt him. you pull your sticky hand away from jungkook when you think he’s finally emptied, but he grabs your wrist and you look at him questioningly. you watch with shocked eyes as jungkook brings your hand up and takes your messy fingers into his mouth, sucking his cum from them. you know instinctively it isn’t the first time he’s done this—not with the look of pure satisfaction on his features as he licks his own seed off your fingers.

his enthusiastic pleasure is part of the reason why you accept when jungkook gives you a crushing kiss, passing his cum from his tongue to yours. you don’t know what you expected it to taste like, but it isn’t gross like you’ve heard others complain about when sharing their sex tales; despite being salty, the overall taste is neutral. still, it takes some getting used to.

when you pull away from each other, noses brushing and lips wet from each other’s spit, you look into his dark brown eyes and get the sudden desire to say something that’s been buried in the back of your mind for days now.

“why did you come straight to me that night?” you whisper. “like you already knew who you were there for.”

jungkook stares back, his lips curving up slightly. “i just wanted to. or i wanted you, more specifically.”

“that’s not an answer.”

“well, it’s my answer.”

“was i another one to knock off your list?”

“you think i have a list?”

“i’m not stupid. it’s not unusual for guys to have a list. plus, plenty of rumors go around.”

jungkook taps his fingers underneath your chin and kisses you on the lips again, though it is brief. “stop believing everything you hear.”

you clearly won’t be getting a straight answer from him tonight. with the moment broken, you sigh and begin pulling your bottoms back on. “…whatever you say, dude.” once you’re dressed, you climb over his body to get off the couch. you poke him in the chest as your eyes roam over him in his disheveled state, his shorts pulled down and his cum staining his black shirt. “might wanna clean yourself up, huh? i’m going to sleep. and, yeah…thanks for the distraction.”

TUESDAY, NOV 7

with the weather being as cold as it is and heading toward winter in another month or so, lorelai is surprised by how quickly the bodies began to smell.

she doesn’t know much of anything about bodily decomposition—because, to her parents’ disappointment, she wasn’t about to be a biology major and have to be around cadavers in a dissection lab—but if this were a movie or something, she would’ve thought it would take longer than just one day. the smell started to hit her the saturday after the party.

but ultimately, this isn’t a movie, and the fact that she’s trapped in a decrepit house in some remote part of town is her present reality.

she doesn’t remember anything about how she got to this house; she thinks she must have been concussed before she was brought here. her head has been hurting badly for days, and not even the simple relief of a painkiller is available.

what she does know is that she’s being kept in a dirty living room on an equally dirty mattress, her hands and legs tied by rope and zip-ties. if there were any miniscule chance of her escaping, it would be impossible to go anywhere considering both her ankles are broken, only adding to the amount of physical pain she’s been in for days.

the living room is mostly empty except for the bodies of some other students from the party, which have been scattered around the room. lorelai tries not to look at them—especially not at the ones she knows—but it’s difficult. they become even more terrifying to her when night falls, turning into dark, rotting shadows in the corners of the room. there has been nothing but the company of these corpses for days, and a couple of visits from the killer.

he's never once taken off his wolf mask or his gloves, and every other part of his body stays covered in all black. she doesn’t have the first idea of what he looks like underneath it all. he has spoken to her a few times, but the voice isn’t one she recognizes. his words when she first awoke inside this house still knock around in her mind, filling her with dread.

he’d crouched in front of her, watching her move around on the mattress and try to orient herself. he had the casual air of someone observing a flipped-up bug struggle on the sidewalk before crushing it underfoot. “you aren’t y/n, but you’ll do for now. we’ll have some real fun later on. you’ll help me give her a good scare.”

“how the fuck do you know y/n?” lorelai had struggled against her restraints, but this only made her newly broken ankles hurt worse. tears began to fall from her eyes from the pain and fear.

the killer had said nothing to that—only tilted his head curiously and stared at her, which was unnerving even if she couldn’t see his eyes.

“you have no fucking reason to go after her, she’s not even a virgin anymore you dumb fuck—” with those words, the killer had backhanded her, sending her already injured head into a fresh wave of agony.

“things would’ve been different if not for that fucking party. you students think you’re so fucking clever, yeah? and look how you paid for it.” it was impossible to see any facial expression, but his body language spoke of anger. “no matter, though. virgin or not, i’ll see this through to the end.”

now it’s yet another morning, and he has returned. he has a lot of debris in his hands—stuff like sticks and dry moss and foliage. he’s also carrying a small bag, the contents of it a mystery. everything he does causes alarm for lorelai, but now confusion joins in.

“ready to have some fun?” he asks. with duct tape over her mouth, she can’t answer back. she watches as he arranges the debris on the ground in front of her, her anxiety mounting as he takes a lighter out of his pocket and sets fire to the foliage.

leaning forward, he rips part of the duct tape away from her mouth with his gloved hand, causing her face to sting. “got anything to say?”

“wh-what the fuck are you doing?”

“i’m gonna stoke a nice fire here…get this knife hot enough to hurt.” he brings out his knife then, and lorelai shrinks away from the blade as he drags the flat of it across her throat—but there’s nowhere else to go, as she’s sitting up against the wall. “then i’ll just cut this pretty little body up a bit. the finishing touch…i think i’ll slice your throat open. how does that sound?” he takes the knife away from her neck to hold the blade over the flames.

lorelai’s breath hitches, and her stomach begins to physically hurt from the outpouring of anxiety flowing through her. she starts to sob, trying to speak through the tears and snot and drool. the only question she can muster up is, “wh-why?”

“this is for y/n—remember? i hope that concussion hasn’t fucked with your memory.” the killer watches the reflection of the flames on the blade as it grows hotter. “and…i’m doing someone a favor.” he doesn’t wait for her to speak again before putting the duct tape back in place over her mouth, leaving her to cry to herself and face her rising distress as he heats the knife until it’s burning hot. internally, she wishes there was any way in the world to get out of this situation.

it isn’t much longer before he’s finished. lorelai screams as he approaches her with the knife, and then at the feeling of the red-hot blade scorching her skin, though the sounds are stifled by the duct tape.

“now, be still while i fix you up.”

WEDNESDAY, NOV 8

you go outside that afternoon to check the mail and have an excuse to get out of the house; it doesn’t matter if it’s only for a few moments. you’re not used to staying cooped up in one place for so long with absolutely nothing to do, and you feel like you’re not too far off from going mad with cabin fever. it hasn’t even been a week since everything happened.

you open the mailbox, and there are the usual bills along with something strange: a blank envelope with no return address. even your sister’s address isn’t written on it. flipping it over, you see that the envelope was never sealed. someone must’ve just come up and put it inside the mailbox. but who the hell would do that, and for what reason? whenever any of your neighbors have something to give you or your sister, they come straight up to the house to do it.

inside the envelope is a set of polaroids. their content makes you drop the rest of the mail. your legs grow weak, and you end up sitting down hard on the end of the driveway, some of the polaroids slipping from your hands. the pictures show the bodies of some of the students from your university, their corpses posed in odd positions and some bare of clothing—all dead.

you struggle to breathe as you frantically flip through the rest of the pictures. in the center of all the group photos is lorelai, her neck torn open and her wrists and ankles tied. she’s still dressed the way she was the night of the party, though her dress is stained with dark brown blood. there are open cuts all over her bare skin, their appearance rough-looking and uneven as if they’ve been cauterized.

there are several group polaroids, several of lorelai alone, and several angles of the outside of a house, which must be the same one the bodies are being kept in. one photo of lorelai slips out of your shaking hands, and you see there’s barely legible handwriting on the back of it, which reads, “this is just the teaser, y/n.”

you scream and don’t stop screaming until jungkook comes running out of the house holding the baseball bat, as if the killer might’ve gotten bold enough to attack in daylight. a couple of your neighbors peek out of their houses and make their way over with concern on their faces once they see you sitting on the ground, your exclamations ringing through the street.

there’s a disarrayed group of people around you grabbing at your shoulders and asking what’s wrong, what happened, and then gasps and exclamations of shock when they see the polaroids. you feel yourself being pulled to your feet and then lifted up—maybe it’s jungkook, because it smells like him—but you’re too disoriented to make proper sense of anything right now. you can only think of how much time has been wasted, and how little time lorelai actually had left.

SUNDAY, NOV 12

in the main lobby of the funeral home, you sit in a chair next to camille, staring into empty space while the other girl tries to cry as quietly as she can. she cries as if she’s ashamed of it, and you wish you could comfort her, but you don’t know what to say or do. for the past few days, you’ve mostly just felt numb.

you’re waiting for veronica to come back out so you can leave, as she’d stayed behind after the service to talk to lorelai’s family for a little longer.

lorelai’s family had opted to have her cremated after seeing the state of her body. a lot of other families did the same after the events of cherry bomb, not even wanting to entertain the idea of a closed-casket funeral. you can understand their feelings about it if you push through the haze in your mind to consider it for long enough. though the morticians have done the best they can over the past week, sometimes knowing that your loved one has multiple stab wounds and eviscerated organs beneath all the makeup and fancy clothing is too much to handle.

when veronica finally comes out, the three of you walk outside to join the rest of the people who’ve started getting in their cars. some still linger in small huddles, shaking their heads and wiping their faces.

jungkook, who’d driven you and veronica to the memorial, waits outside for you all, leaning on the side of the building. you both thought it was probably better for him not to attend the service considering lorelai was never fond of him and he didn’t know her that well.

“is it finished?” he asks.

“it is.” veronica sighs. “god, funerals are so damn…bleak.”

you notice a man waving at your group from the other side of the parking lot and realize it’s camille’s dad. her posture straightens when she catches sight of him, and she hurriedly tries to wipe the rest of her tears before shoving her tissue into her pocket. “i-i think my dad is waiting for me. i…i’ll see you guys later, alright?”

“okay, camille.” the strange absence of emotion that you’ve been trapped in for the past few days suddenly cracks open when you notice camille’s anxious demeanor as she speed-walks away from the rest of you. intense sorrow overtakes you; you don’t want her to leave, but she has to go.

you are crying before you fully understand what’s happening. veronica puts her arms around you and squeezes you against the side of her body. jungkook reaches a thumb up to wipe away your tears, though you don’t let him get very far before turning your head away and into veronica’s shoulder.

“y/n…”

“how am i supposed to go on?” you exclaim, catching the attention of a few people nearby. “the police said maybe she’s just staying with friends. and now look. plus, the killer knows where me and my sister live now…maybe he always knew.”

“we don’t even have a clue who the killer is…” jungkook mumbles. “there’s no one you know of who might have a grudge against you?”

“no, jungkook. the police already gave me all that questioning. and it doesn’t help me feel any better to think maybe all these deaths are somehow my fault.” you scoff.

“y/n, nothing’s your fault because some freak decided to go around killing people; that was his decision.” jungkook argues.

you nod slightly to his words but say nothing else, not wanting to go further into that topic. you don’t know if you can believe him about that.

the parking lot is emptying out now, so you try to pull yourself together so the three of you can leave. “well…you don’t need to keep staying with us if you don’t want to. we have those assigned bodyguards now, so…” you glance in the direction of one other car sitting beside jungkook’s—inside it are two men the police force appointed after the polaroids of the bodies were planted in your sister’s mailbox.

jungkook looks at you as if he’s trying to gauge your expression; he himself looks surprised, though he attempts to play it off. veronica glances between you both, recognizing the awkward shift in the air.

“you don’t want me there anymore? i mean it is your house—” he glances at veronica “—so that’s fine with me if—"

“what? i didn’t say i don’t want you there, neither did veronica, it’s just if you don’t want to be there—"

“i never said i didn’t want to be there, though?”

you both become quiet, jungkook looking at you and you returning his gaze for a few seconds before looking off to the side. veronica is still standing between you both like she’d rather be anywhere else on earth.

“i just figured that maybe…” why are you being so concerned about me? isn’t this the part where we go our separate ways? is what you really want to ask. you have seen and learned enough from your friends’ and even your acquaintances’ experiences to realize that any other one night stand would not have cared so much. that’s how these things go, right? but he isn’t really a one night stand anymore, either.

you don’t even know if you’re considered friends with benefits, but what would that change? you’d still seen others tossed aside without much thought by their FWBs while in times of need. considering his history, you don’t understand why jungkook isn’t following the same template now, and you don’t think you should ask why for fear of breaking the illusion.

fed up with your own confusion, you decide now isn’t the time to lament on your lack of knowledge about these things. “nevermind. that’s fine. so you’ll stay?”

the corner of his mouth lifts in a brief smile. “i’ll stay as long as you won’t try to kick me out.”

you aren’t in the mood to attempt to smile back, but he seems to understand that. “right, well...good.”

“…now that you two have figured that shit out, can we leave?”

FRIDAY, NOV 17

jungkook thought that getting outside a bit more would help you feel better and prevent you from developing a complete fear of leaving the house, which is why you’re sitting in this claustrophobic little diner now with him, yoongi, and camille—and of course, your ever-present bodyguards in the booth behind you all. but this outing isn’t doing anything to mitigate your fears.

nearly 10 minutes in, you have to ask jungkook to switch seats with you so you’re not on the outside of the booth, as you’re afraid that it’s too easy-access if anyone—say, the killer, though you’ve been trying not to think so obsessively about him—were to come in and start stabbing you to death right where you sit. being on the inside calms you for a little while until you become anxious about the window beside you; what if he has a gun again and simply shoots through the glass? all he’d have to do is stand on the sidewalk and aim, his werewolf mask laughing at you with its eternally frozen growling expression, and your brains would be all over the table just like that frat guy’s.

your meal sits half-eaten as you get increasingly lost in your anxieties. the others are talking about something, but you can’t hear what. it’s like some of your senses have shut down or begun working incorrectly. the strawberry sauce in camille’s sundae looks too much like blood and even smells like it from the occasional whiffs you get, and you find yourself staring at the sundae dish and wanting to throw it across the restaurant.

jungkook’s hand touches you on the back, and the tension in your body increases. he feels it and draws away, though he keeps trying to meet your eyes. “are you okay?” he whispers.

“why ask that? she obviously isn’t,” yoongi says, like he’s annoyed with the obviousness of jungkook’s question.

“hyung, i’m just trying to help.”

“it was your great idea to come out here when she didn’t want to, though.”

“y/n—” camille starts.

“can’t you throw that out? it smells like blood.” your mouth feels useless and hard to maneuver, but you manage to say those words.

“what?”

“the…that. that thing.” everyone looks at camille’s melting sundae. yoongi raises his eyebrows.

“blood?”

“do you mean it—looks like blood?” jungkook suggests.

you raise your voice in irritation, not understanding how everyone else is unable to perceive the same scent that you do. “no, i-it does, but it smells like blood too! just get rid of it!”

one of the waitresses comes over to the table. “is everything okay over here?”

“um, we’re fine! i’m finished with this though.” camille hurriedly hands the sundae off to her, trying to keep the situation calm.

“oh, well—the rest of you too? that’ll be it, then?” she gathers everyone’s plates and leaves with a smile that attempts to be cordial but is still colored with unease.

her departure leaves a stiff silence in which you all spare glances at each other but try to avoid directly meeting eyes. camille is the first to break it.

“i’ll ask my dad if i can stay over with you,” she suggests. she suddenly sounds much more tired. jungkook’s eyebrows furrow slightly at her words; yoongi silently glances at the younger man. “just, you know…maybe the extra company would help? he’s been treating me like a kid again, but we should be safe with the bodyguards there, so…”

“you don’t have to do that,” you say, though you’re too exhausted to truly argue.

“you’re in shambles, y/n. and it’s not just for your benefit. i’m feeling pretty fucking alone right now, and it’s hard for my dad to understand the emotional side of it, so…” camille plays with her fingers and doesn’t look at anyone as she speaks; you know talking about her father can be a sore spot for her sometimes. “uh, anyway. not to trauma-dump or anything. just let me do this.”

you sigh. “fine…okay. do whatever you have to. can we just leave?”

as you’re all walking outside, jungkook pulls you aside.

“i still worry about you after that incident at the store, you know?” he admits.

you shrug his hand off your arm and glare at him. “you think i’m crazy.”

“i don’t. i just want you to be able to relax and not feel like you’re being hunted 24/7. i don’t think the killer is constantly waiting around the nearest corner for you, y/n.”

“you don’t know how close the killer could be. he knows where i go to sleep at night. so stop the bullshit, jungkook.”

“you’ll be okay. you have me, remember? i protected you that night…i can do it again.”

you examine his face for a long moment and find that you are too overwhelmed with stress and fear to be moved by his words. “i’d like to trust you…but the killer might just murder you too. then who’ll save me?” you don’t wait for his response before walking away to catch up with the other two.

LYING IN WAIT...

it’s strange to see the police bodyguards in veronica’s driveway and backyard everyday. it’s not the same two all day—they switch off so that there are two doing a day shift and two doing a night shift.

the security team at the hospital where your sister works is aware of the situation, so you try not to get too worried about her safety when she’s away from the house—but it’s difficult.

there have been no more kills connected to your university since lorelai. it seems like half the town has forgotten their fears and tried to go back to some sense of normalcy while the other half still hides away and lives in perpetual panic, including you. the former group of people has started muddying the waters for the police, with some teenagers getting brave enough to sneak around in wolf masks and vandalize buildings with red-lettered virgin graffiti just to fuck with the cops. there have even been a few people who turned themselves in claiming to be the killer—only their supposed confessions never matched the details of the case.

reporters have tried to hound lorelai’s family and your family several times for any speculations or answers on the killer’s identity, but none of you are willing to spread misinformation just to give them something to write about. however, that hasn’t stopped other residents of your town from sharing their speculations and even implicating their own relatives or neighbors—whether as a fucked-up joke or as genuine revenge just depends on whoever’s speaking. with all of these false leads, the police are still no closer to finding the killer than they’d initially been.

everyday feels like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, though the chances of any more kills are starting to seem improbable; the university is practically empty. but it doesn’t matter to you if the school is nearly deserted, because the killer has his aims set on you now, and you only wish you knew why.

up in your room, you and camille sit on your bed gazing out the window—the window that must always remain locked now, for fear of unwanted ingress. you’ve never been uncomfortable in your sister’s house, but lately you’ve been feeling like you’re boxed in with every wall pressing towards you.

sitting up from your lying-down position, you have to find the appropriate words for a moment before speaking. “camille—i can’t stop feeling like maybe we aren’t entirely safe,” you murmur.

camille raises her eyebrows. “why not? those guys stay outside all day, and we keep everything locked up day and night. literally, the only time the front door opens is for veronica to leave and come back from work everyday.”

“i don’t know. there’s no particular reason for it…it just seems like we’re waiting for something.”

“…yeah? for the killer to be caught.”

“but he’s made no moves recently. you remember the policeman’s daughter, right? i even texted her and she hasn’t heard anything new that we don’t already know. seems like things have slowed down at the police station. it’s not like that abandoned house was in the killer’s name or anything, so what leads would they have?”

camille frowns and rubs her eyes like something’s in them, but when she looks at you directly, you see her eyes are red from unshed tears. “…i want things to be okay, though. i’m tired of living like this. you know how i had to beg just to get my dad to let me leave the house. he’s constantly on edge.” you feel even more unsettled to see camille so distressed lately, as she’s always been the only one able to pull something funny out of a terrible situation—something enough to distract you from the horrors. “all i know is they’ll have to dig his ass out of some hole in the ground at some point. he can’t hide in this town forever.”

“yeah…i guess you’re right.” you still don’t feel reassured, but you don’t voice your doubts.

WEDNESDAY, NOV 22

“i think i might go mad,” camille says from her position on the armchair, her limbs splayed haphazardly across it and one hand stuck in a bag of chips.

you sigh. “you’re the one who wanted to watch this thanksgiving movie marathon.”

“the most mid holiday of the season,” jungkook adds.

“no one cares what either of you think, thanks.” it isn’t long before the program is over and the ending credits are rolling. with an exaggerated exhale, camille gets up from the chair and crunches the bag of chips in her hand. “i’m going to your room, y/n. you two just do whatever it is you do down here, since you hate my movie choices so much!”

“means we can finally turn the channel.” jungkook snatches the remote off the coffee table and does just that.

camille goes into the kitchen to throw out the chip bag and wash her hands. your focus returns to the TV. a few seconds later, you hear the upstairs flooring creak above the noise of the water pouring from the tap.

“what’s up, sis? i thought you were sleeping.” veronica is known to be a deep sleeper, so it’s not common for her to be getting up in the middle of the night. there’s no answer to your question. you glance upstairs, but your sister isn’t standing there; she isn’t standing at all, instead being carried by someone wearing an all-too familiar mask.

you scream as the killer tosses your sister over the stair railing. her torso has been sliced open from collarbone to navel, her body leaving a large splatter of blood on the floor where she lands. jungkook jumps to his feet but is momentarily immobilized as he gazes at your sister’s body crumpled on the floor. you slide off the couch and crawl over to her, still crying out, but there’s no life left to try and salvage.

the screaming brings camille rushing to the kitchen doorway. she can barely vocalize what’s wrong? before spotting veronica’s body and stopping in her tracks. in a moment that feels like it takes forever to pass, the killer pulls a gun from his waistband—you recognize it as one of the guns the policemen carry and realize he must’ve killed the bodyguard posted in the backyard—and shoots her in the chest twice.

“camille!” when you go over to where she’s lying on the ground, she is still alive but bleeding intensely and struggling to breathe. your knees slip in the blood that begins pooling around her. “shit, camille…p-please don’t die…” you press your hand against the wounds, but they’re bleeding so much that your efforts don’t help, and the pressure of your hand causes her more pain.

there’s the sound of a gunshot at the front door as the lock is blown off, and the door is banged open a few seconds later by the remaining bodyguard. he has virtually no time to fire off another shot before the killer is shooting him in the head first.

the killer throws the gun aside, taking his knife in his other hand and making his way down the stairs. “your sister left her window cracked open. i waited for days for a slip-up like that. see how much harm can come from a simple mistake? well, she was collateral damage anyway.”

even in your panic, it’s as if all your bodily functions freeze when you recognize the familiarity of the killer’s voice. camille reacts with a rattling gasp, but her body is becoming too weak for her to utter anything; all she can do is watch as the man stops at the bottom of the stairs and pulls his mask off.

“yoongi…” your voice breaks as you try to speak again, but nothing coherent comes out.

he drops the mask on the floor and brushes a hand through his hair. “i guess you weren’t expecting that. good. we kept it up ‘til the end.”

your lips form around the word we, but your vocal cords won’t cooperate. you twist around to look at jungkook, who is still standing by the couch.

the man who you’d gotten too close to for your own good and done so many firsts with, who’d promised you that he’d protect you and was even there for you on the day of lorelai’s memorial, looks at you now with eyes glowing from the thrill as his mouth twitches into a smile—small at first but growing into a full grin. “i almost can’t believe we staged all that shit and it actually worked. you really believed it all, y/n.

not all of those kills were hyung’s, of course...there’s no way i’d miss out on the best parts. you don’t know what it’s like until you kill a person for the first time. crashing cherry bomb was his idea, though. and lorelai was mine. that bitch would’ve kept you away from me, and i needed her gone for this kill to work.”

through tears, you finally muster up the strength to ask, “wh-why have you done this? that night…y-you mean to tell me none of that was real? being shot at—why would you—” your voice rises until you’re shouting. “you-you’ve killed so many people. what was the purpose?!”

jungkook’s smile fades somewhat as he pretends to think about it, acting like he’s reminiscing on wistful memories. “i realized that killing and fucking aren’t that different, y/n. the real ecstasy of it is in taking someone pure…and doing something to them that has never been done before, and can never be done again. there’s a certain eroticism in killing someone, stabbing them, entering them…it’s like sex in the most profane sense.”

“you’re disgusting,” you mutter, glaring at him through your tears. you can’t help but feel shame to think of the times you’d had sex with him. had he simply been imagining murdering you during those moments? it makes you want to throw up.

yoongi steps closer until he’s right in front of you and camille. “and as for me…i just enjoy it. practice really does make perfect. you wouldn’t believe how entertaining it can be to see someone beg for their life.” his lips turn upwards in a dark smile resembling jungkook’s. “but instead of raging at us, i think you have bigger matters to be concerned with.” yoongi gestures his knife hand to camille, and when you look down at her body, you realize she’s no longer moving.

you lift camille’s head up with your hands as if that could make her return your gaze, though you can find no sign of breathing or pulse. “god, no…” you scream in frustration, your hands slipping in her blood. you check once more and again for any signs of life, because there is just no possible way this could’ve happened, but there are none present. “please—i’m sorry…”

“time’s up.” yoongi grabs your arm and yanks you away from camille, jostling you to try to get you on your feet. you flail around in his grip, fruitlessly scratching at his arms that are covered by his thick jacket, before managing to elbow him in the groin with your frantic movements. “shit!” this causes him to loosen his grip, which is enough for you to scramble away from him, slipping in the blood as you go.

you make it to the other side of the room where the officer lies facedown—though there isn’t much left of his face from yoongi’s shot. you snatch the gun from the dead officer’s hand and point it in the direction of both men. the safety is already off; all you’d have to do is pull the trigger and kill either one of them right now. before you can act, yoongi uses his free hand to pull another gun from his waistband—his own.

“as i said before, i know how to take care of myself,” he says, flicking the safety off and aiming for you, though his stance shows he’s still in pain. “please don’t assume it’ll be that easy. do you even know how to shoot a gun?”

you and yoongi are at an impasse as you both point your guns at each other, jungkook looking on with casual amusement coloring his face. “fuck you,” you spit out. you remain hesitant to fire on him, knowing that even if you succeed, he could fatally shoot you at the same time.

“let’s not do it this way,” yoongi says, his voice low and soft in an attempt to be persuasive, though you just find it disturbing. “you were supposed to be a clean kill. a few stabs and it’d all be over. i’ll even let jungkook do it, since you seem to like each other so much. do you really want to be shot down like a dog like camille over there?”

“you and him can both fry in hell!” you shout.

yoongi glances over at jungkook. they both nod before yoongi hands the knife to him, and the younger man takes a few steps in your direction. you don’t know whether to point the gun at him or keep it trained on yoongi; your head is pounding with a headache that you’ve only just realized you have. “don’t come over here. stay away from me!”

you press your back to the wall as jungkook comes closer, inching towards your right side with his knife at the ready. you slide away from him as you keep your back against the wall. “hand it over, y/n. it doesn’t have to be like this.”

“hand it over and let you kill me? are you insane? you lied to me this whole time, you fucking piece of shit.”

jungkook scoffs and looks at yoongi as if to say can you believe this? “why wouldn’t i lie to you? you were always meant to die.”

he won’t stop coming towards you, and you’re running out of room to slide away from him. you grasp for anything to try to reason with him, though you know it’s futile. “you realize that if you kill me now and you conveniently survive, everyone will know it’s you? you’ve been living here for weeks, you jackass!”

“hyung and i have that covered. it’s not for you to worry about, considering you won’t be worrying about anything soon.”

jungkook lunges for you with the knife, thinking he can catch you off guard and overpower you. you scream and pull the trigger in your frenzied state of mind, shooting yoongi. the next few things seem to happen almost simultaneously:

you hear the crash of yoongi’s body hitting the TV stand and the TV falling to the floor.

you feel jungkook’s knife piercing your shoulder, causing you to fire a stray round into the wall from the unexpected burst of pain.

you hear another gunshot that’s not from you; you see and feel jungkook stumble into you, the knife sliding from his fingers and to the floor.

you realize that he’s been shot when his hand flies to the bullet wound on his lower back; he’d been standing in front of you, and yoongi meant to hit you, not him.

“jungkook!” yoongi’s shout is furious and regretful as he steadies himself on the TV stand.

trying to push the pain into the back of your mind, you clumsily grasp jungkook’s fallen knife and run for the stairs. more shots follow you and most of them miss but one, which strikes you in the thigh. while you cling to the stair railing and try to regain your footing, you are suddenly staring mortality in the face and understanding with a freezing-cold clarity that you will die right now if you don’t do something.

your nervous system vibrates with fear and adrenaline as you tighten your grip on the police officer’s gun and shoot yoongi with it twice—in the same area he’d shot camille.

these last two bullets finish him off immediately. you don’t think it’s fair, with how camille suffered and bled and died in your arms. for a moment, you’re so outraged that you wish he’d come back to life so that you could kill him again. you’re torn from these thoughts by jungkook.

“you bitch…he was my only family after everyone else threw me away. do you understand? i’ll fucking kill you!” jungkook is nearly writhing in the ground from his upset and from the hurt of his injury; it frightens you that this same man is someone you once thought you could grow fond of.

you aim the gun for jungkook next, but the chamber is empty. either way, he currently has no weapon, which leaves you with a small chance to get away before he re-arms himself. throwing the gun away, you stagger up the rest of the steps while his screams continue echoing up to you.

you give no thought to the blood trail you’re leaving behind as you rush to veronica’s room and to the window yoongi had entered through. you begin squeezing yourself through, keeping your grip on your knife all the while, but your injuries make it difficult to move. a few more tears slip out as you try to balance your injured leg on the tree branch beneath the window, and the desperation of wanting to give up clings to you.

you hear jungkook’s heavy and limping footsteps coming up the stairs, and you attempt to hurry, but you’re only halfway out of the window. when he crashes into the room, it’s unnervingly easy for him to grab your arm and yank your body back through the window, uncaring of how you get scraped up in the process.

he jams you up against the nightstand with one of the kitchen knives to your neck to stop your movements; his harsh maneuver causes the objects on the nightstand to rattle. the nightstand’s edge digs into the backs of your thighs, the pressure causing your wounded thigh to hurt more.

“you want to know why i picked you?” jungkook hisses, the knife’s blade stinging your throat as it begins to break skin. “you were just another choice out of many, but i decided you’d be the first one that i’d fuck and kill.”

it’s painful to hear, but it angers you at the same time. “fuck you!” in your rage, you spit in his eyes. jungkook jerks back and the knife shifts from its previous position at your neck; you take those few seconds to grasp the alarm clock off the nightstand and crash it against his head.

“shit—!” he cries out, stumbling and grasping the side of his head. he tries to grab for you again, but you jump onto the bed and crawl away from him, your stomach lurching at all of veronica’s blood soaked into the sheets. you spot a small decorative glass bowl on the dresser—the one filled with little candies that you’d always teased veronica for, saying she was so much like a grandma handing out treats to her grandchildren. when your feet touch the ground again, you clasp your hand around it like it’s a lifeline and fling it at jungkook’s head as hard as you can, just as he makes it around the bed to your side. the shards cut his face when it breaks, slowing him down further as he grabs his slashed and bleeding face. one of his eyes is blinded from the blood and glass.

this will probably be your only chance while he’s struggling to gather himself. you rush towards him with the knife handle tight in both of your hands and drive the blade into the middle of his chest, putting all your strength into that movement—just as his own knife impales your abdomen.

you are both simultaneously struck from the shock of being stabbed, and it takes you a few long moments to piece your mind back together as the pain radiates throughout your body. jungkook groans when you shift the knife around in his wound as you pull it out, letting his blood flow out freely. his breaths become wet and rattling as he chokes on his own blood, the red fluid staining his mouth and dripping down to his neck. he jams his knife further into your wound in retaliation so that the handle is flush against your body, causing your head to spin.

“i-if i die, i’m taking you w-with me.” jungkook gasps with his remaining effort. his body starts to sag from its standing position as he weakens, his hand slipping from the knife handle. he loosely grasps the comforter with one hand as he collapses to his knees, his torso becoming soaked with blood and his head bleeding from your earlier hits.

you drop your knife and lean against the bed too, shifting your body to find a position that could lessen the pain, but it’s impossible with a knife lodged in your abdomen. you know enough to understand that you’ll bleed out faster if you remove it, though, so you resist the urge. “you can rot in hell alone, jungkook.” you watch him struggle for what feels like minutes before his breaths stop altogether and his body slumps to the floor. he is just a blur of clothes and blood through your tears. you’ve never felt so lonely in your life.

you have a thought to call 911, but you’re becoming more and more lightheaded from the blood loss, and you can already hear sirens approaching on your street. you figure one of your neighbors must’ve called after hearing the gunshots; perhaps the bodyguard sent for backup before he was shot. your rescue has come much later than you would’ve preferred—or maybe everything just happened much faster than it seemed. you can’t tell anymore.

you can’t tell anymore, and you no longer want to look at the carnage around you, and nothing makes any sense. so, you close your eyes to it all; and when you feel someone lifting you in their arms—this sensation is so familiar—and maneuvering you onto a stretcher, you allow yourself to relent to it and empty your mind of everything.

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

Text

Something to Fight For (Epilogue) Dad!Joel x f!Reader

Something to Fight For: Epilogue

Warnings: Tooth-rottingly sweet epilogue.

Words: 5.3

a/n: I dragged y’all through angsty hell and I PROMISED I would deliver a happy ending and imo it don’t get much happier than this! Now, if you're sad this is over I understand. Nice thing is, I got vignettes happening featuring the characters in this story. Some of 'em sweet, some spicy, some funny. I can't say goodbye to these characters or this world quite yet. So I'm not gonna. And if you want, you're always welcome to request a scene you'd like to see in the comments! I love hearing what you want to see! And I got heaps of other writing, but if you like this sweeter sort I recommend: “Bravo! Take a Bow” and “Losing our Minds Together”

I thank every single one of you out there that read this story and left a review because it really feels like we built a community here in the comment section. I'm gonna miss seein' y'all here. Hopefully you stick around while I keep writing, but if not I am so glad we could share this online moment together. Thank you for making this fanfic author a happy gal. I'm gettin' choked up here so I'll stop and we can get on to seeing our sweet idiots in love.

Oh and please review, reblog, etc cuz it makes me smile.

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You walk into life on Rancher Street as naturally as if you've always been a fixture there. You think this is borne from a routine the three of you slipped into without thinking.

Mornings are coffee and cereal (Joel's banana pancakes on the weekends), then it's getting ready, brushing Sarah's hair, packing leftovers into cartoon lunch bags (for Sarah) and brown paper bags (for you and Joel).

You're dropped off first; your work is on the way to the school. Its kisses for both of their sweet smiling faces and then you're thrust into the world of animal rescue. Joel drives Sarah to school next, holding her hand until they reach her classroom where he kisses her forehead and tells her to "learn lots" before handing her off to her new first grade teacher.

He drives to Tommy at whatever site they're working at. The days are long, but punctuated with texts from you. Most are funny, some sweet. Occasionally Joel tries to write back but when he really wants to interact with you he just excuses himself and calls you. Hearing your voice always makes him smile in that dreamy, crooked way that has Tommy giving him shit the rest of the day.

At five promptly Joel returns to pick you up with Sarah buckled in her car seat smiling up at you. His heart jumps every time you come through the door, eyes bright and smiling as you jog over. He holds back the urge to kiss you senseless, restraining you both to a quick peck and then drives his girls home.

Dinner is done by Joel unless you've offered (which you rarely do because cooking is a drag). Instead you help Sarah set the table and the meal is spent listening to Sarah talk about her day and the animals that you’ve helped to rescue.

After dinner Sarah goes to play with her toys or watch a DVD while you tidy up. Joel sits with his coffee in his favorite green mug at the counter, eyes on you and chatting as you do the dishes. He always tries to help at first but you always remind him that he did the cooking and that you want to keep things fair.

This is when you both talk about everything and anything. Work, movies you want to see, plans for the weekend, philosophical questions (you've both decided that you'd rather fight one horse sized duck versus a thousand duck sized horses, for example). Joel is hard to get information out of. He isn't used to talking about himself, but you urge him to do so. He thinks his job is boring but you're fascinated by controlling clients and his keen mind when problem solving an issue at a job site.

Sometimes Sarah turns the volume of the TV up really high during these times and Joel has to yell over the noise at her to turn it down, smiling and shaking his head. It's one of your favorite parts about being here. There's always noise in the background, either a television or laughter. Your home had been so quiet, so empty, you'd just never realized

The other favorite part is how Joel always finds ways to touch you. Subtle things like a hand trailing over your lower back as you wash the dishes, nestling his shoulder against yours as you watch television together, laughing and hip checking you gently as he passes you in the hallway.

The only thing not perfect (at least for Joel) is the odd evening when you leave to go back to Maria's basement suite. He doesn't call the old suite your home because as far as he's concerned this is your home.

His stomach always drops when he sees you've gathered your purse in your hands, ready to leave. Joel usually walks you to your car, but some nights he stops you both at the front door, bringing you into his arms and kissing you deeply.

"I should go Joel," you tell him as he holds you, his mouth moving from your lips to your jaw, kissing that spot behind your ear that has you whimpering and your legs buckling. "Still have stuff there."

"Please stay," Joel murmurs against your mouth, hands wrapped around your waist as he presses into you against the wall. "Just a little longer."

Sometimes (often) this works. Your resolve breaks under his sweet mouth and hands and on these nights you wrap your legs around his waist and allow him to carry you back to the bedroom.

These nights he spends hours making love to you until you're too exhausted to leave. These nights Joel likes best because you linger in his arms and in his bed until the morning, the scent of your perfume on his pillow and sheets until you return that evening.

"Love having you here," Joel sleepily murmurs into your hair, kissing you awake one morning. "When are you just gonna move in?"

Still half asleep in his bed you stretch, snuggling up against him and sighing into the crook of his neck. "Whenever you want, baby."

Joel wants you there all the time. He wants Sarah to know that you're there; he doesn't want to hide you. But you're tentative, nervous that this all feels too good too fast. You ask that Sarah not know that you're spending the night, not just yet. She knows that you’re daddy’s girlfriend, but that’s all you want her to know right now.

You pretend to arrive in the mornings, making a show of ringing the doorbell and smirking as Joel welcomes you in, his eyes amused.

Despite the occasional seduction, Joel understands and he lets you go at your own pace. He agrees to what makes you feel comfortable.

But he loves when you arrive with a new cardboard box of your stuff from Maria's. He sees the blush across your cheek as he excitedly takes it from you, asking where this one will go. Most of its clothes and those boxes are promptly brought to the bedroom and unpacked into the closet. Seeing your blouses hung next to his button ups makes him feel good.

Week by week more of your things are brought over until one day there's nothing left for you at Maria's except for your bed, dresser and sofa. You tell him as much over a late night snack of chocolate pudding after Sarah has been put to bed.

"Pretty much everything I need is here."

Joel makes note of this, his heart hammering in his chest as he reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out the key he got cut.

“You’ll need this, then.”

He slides it across the counter with his forefinger, his eyes not leaving your face as he does. He sees the surprise there, the widening of your eyes.

"You have a lot of keys to your house just lying around?" You joke, feeling your heart race.

"Nah, got this one cut the day after the wedding," Joel murmurs. "Thought you'd need it sooner or later."

He loves seeing you blush, especially when you do that shy smile of yours.

When you look uncertain later that night in bed next to him, fingers twisting together anxiously Joel notices, lowering his book to glance at you.

"What's wrong?"

"Are you really okay with me moving in here?" You ask with a furrowed brow. "It's not too soon?"

Joel's mouth over yours is all the answer you need. But he's so delighted by your potential move in that he'd already launched into an outline of what to do with your furniture.

"We could sell your sofa and bed. I know a guy who needs a sofa. Only 'cuz my stuff is bigger and already here, but I don't want you feelin' like this isn't your house too so maybe we should-"

Kissing is the second best way to stop Joel Miller from rambling. The first is climbing on top of him and urging him inside of you, languidly bringing you both to orgasm.

You do both just to be safe.

The things left at Paul's had been clothing and a few personal items. You considered leaving it, but decide in the end that you shouldn't have to.

Your small pile of cardboard boxes are left outside his old apartment. He's sure not to be in said apartment when Joel goes with you to retrieve them.

You'd ridden over in Joel's truck, the day punctuated by an unexpected silence with Joel's protective hand over your knee. He'd loaded the boxes alongside you, his face tight. With every box retrieved from Paul's place Joel grew more and more miserable.

He hadn't responded to your gentle teasing as you both worked, had turned down your idea of going out for lunch, and had been all over a grumpy bastard.

When you'd loaded everything and were driving home Joel's hand had flown back to your knee, grip just as tight as before. When you finally questioned him about his bizarre behavior his dark eyes had been hard.

"The boxes and Paul," Joel winces, eyes fixed on the road. "Just reminded me how close I was to losin' you."

You make him pull over right then and there so you can crawl into his lap and kiss him senseless. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you so tightly to him you feel breathless.

"You'll never lose me, Joel," you whisper against his neck. "Never."

When you make love that evening your fingers linger on his cheeks as you stare into his eyes and the words you whisper as he fills you are of the love you have for him, the longing for this life you held for so long within you.

As you both begin to drift off, tangled together under the sheets you press a kiss to that patch in his beard that doesn't quite grow.

"I'm not going anywhere, Joel. I'm done running."

///

You miss having an office space like your studio had. A little area for just you to organize your thoughts and work. But it's a small price to pay because you like existing on Rancher Street. You've enjoyed every day of the last three months.

It feels like home when you're there and not because of the structure but the two figures inside. Home isn't a place, you've come to realize, its people. Joel and Sarah.

Evening rituals are the same as when you babysat. Picking out books as Sarah slips into bed smelling of toothpaste and the hair cream Joel massages into the curls under her favorite purple bonnet. You smiling at her while she snuggles down under the covers, propping toad up next to her so he can see the pictures in the books.

"Okay we're ready."

The only difference is that Joel is there too, bending down to kiss his daughter's cheek and murmuring a low "G'night babygirl. Sweet dreams. Love you."

She gives him a sweet 'I love you' back, kissing his lightly bearded cheek. If Joel takes too long to leave, getting distracted by the sight of you gathering books or just wanting to linger, Sarah is prone to shooting him a silent look that communicates: okay, I love you dad, now please leave.

He always does. Because reading before bed is your special time, just the two of you. Joel used to do it on the nights you weren't there, but now you are there every single night his services are no longer necessary.

Joel's qualities are better served in the kitchen, you and Sarah decide as you watch her drawing on the sidewalk with the chalk you've just bought.

"Daddy's a better cook than you."

She says it thoughtfully and without malice as she draws a lopsided flower.

"Yes," you agree with a nod, making a star pattern nearby. "Much better. I think he puts love in his food. I just use salt."

But the ever empathetic Sarah is quick to point out your many virtues as well. The main one of course being your stellar reading ability and your stories in general.

So every single night Joel stands there outside Sarah's room, arms folded and shoulder tilted against the hallway wall, his cheek facing the half closed door of his daughter.

There he listens to the two of you giggling or you reading the book Sarah has picked from your pile (Sarah's right, you're very good at doing the voices), the gentle murmurs of 'I love you" thrown back between you two and those sounds wind around Joel's heart in a way he never knew just sounds could.

He's so fucking happy.

And when you finally creep out, quietly closing the door behind you and shooting him a pleased smile, Joel is always there to grip you by the hand and drag you to your shared bedroom down the hall.

Rarely do the two of you make it to the bed with all your clothes on because Joel has many virtues outside of the kitchen as well.

///

Joel watches you give a frustrated sigh, frowning at the laptop on the kitchen table before putting your face in your hands.

"Everything okay?"

"Just this fu- darn sanctuary project," you self correct, remembering a listening Sarah sitting across from you.

Sarah has a piece of paper she has drawn to look like a laptop and she pretends to clack away on it when you do on yours. Joel sits next to you, his knee brushing yours as you complain.

"Alex's contact said she could get the supplies at cost and he was supposed to get back to me but he hasn't and now the landscaping guy is saying -" you pause, realizing Joel's eyes have taken on a dreamy, faraway look. “-And you're not even listening to me, are you Miller?"

He gives you a guilty look. "Nope."

You give a sharp laugh at his honesty, leaning over and shoving his shoulder with yours affectionately.

"Hey, I really wanna show you somethin'," Joel says with a hint of excitement in his dark brown eyes, a window into the boy he must have been. "C'mon. Both of you."

You follow him down the steps to the basement, to Tommy's old place, your hand wrapped around Sarah's. You both follow him towards the large door separating the areas, watching his broad shouldered walk, the excitement in his rapid footsteps.

At the door there he spins with a small anticipatory smile on his handsome face.

"I thought this would be a good place to have for an office," Joel explains shyly pointing to the door behind him.

You smile up at him, delighted that he thought of you needing one. He pushes open the door for you, his eyes on your face as he does.

Balloons.

Hundreds of colorful balloons take up almost the entire main room of the basement.

Sarah doesn't wait for you, she runs in headfirst giggling and shrieking, her arms open wide.

You walk into the basement in a daze, your eyes owlish as you take in this prism of color, feeling the balloons brush your skin, the awe-inspiring sensation of being surrounded in a rainbow. You laugh, it bursts from you.

You can see that the space beyond the balloons has been transformed into an office, complete with built in bookcases and a custom desk under the window. You trace a hand along the desk before being swept up in the color of the balloons and Sarah's contagious laughter.

Joel is standing there just outside the door, his eyes bright as he watches the two loves of his life laughing and tossing up the colorful balloons.

Sarah kicks at them with vigor, her head thrown back in laughter at the squeaks they emit when knocked about.

Joel looks to you, expecting the same behavior and pausing when he sees how you're now standing there looking at him with damp eyes. The balloons float between you, falling to block his eyes as you approach.

"Joel."

"Mmm?"

"Get in here," you order gently, your finger curling around his collar as you gently tug him in encouragement. You can't move him of course, but he grins widely, nodding and stepping into the color with you.

For a moment neither of you speaks. All you can see is Joel and the balloons that seem to surround you on all sides, the colors framing his beautiful face. You can hear Sarah's distant laughter.

Then Joel smiles in that sweet, open way of his. You look down when you feel his hand taking yours and see a diamond ring being slipped onto your fourth finger. You stare at it in amazement before your gaze meets his. In his deep brown eyes you see a future so beautiful you never could have imagined it. What you don’t know is that when Joel looks into your eyes he sees exactly the same.

"Will you ma-"

"Yes," you breathe without letting him finish, your hands coming to either side of his jaw. He pulls you into his arms grinning before his mouth is on yours, gentle and sweet. You know that your eyes are wet and you know that on your deathbed this will be one of those moments that comes to you, comforting you.

You pull back and look around at all the balloons, the color and you smile broadly through the tears.

"Couldn't wait for your birthday," Joel murmurs against your cheek. "Hope that's okay."

"Yeah," you say curling your arms around his neck. "It's okay."

You don't mind at all.

///

"Shit, did you feed the cat?"

"Daddy you said sh-"

"I know babygirl," Joel says rubbing the back of his neck as Sarah looks to him with a chastised look. "Was wrong of me. Daddy just doesn't want to find another hairball in his shoe. "

Jam, your orange tabby kitten is not really yours at all. Despite being brought home for you, Jam quickly decided that Sarah with her warm bed and shirts covered in food crumbs was a much better companion than you. You don't mind though, seeing how much Sarah loves the cat is enough for you.

"I fed him," you say giggling as the three of you make your way up the drive. The whole gang has been invited to Frank and Bill's for a Sunday lunch. You see them quite often despite living on Rancher Street full time.

They often encourage you to bring Sarah and you do without hesitation. She loves Bill and Frank just as much as you do. She loves painting with Uncle Frank and baking with Uncle Bill. She loves that their house smells like cinnamon in the winter and fresh flowers in the summer.

Despite living right next door, Maria and Tommy arrive late with cornbread and lemonade, but are given a reprieve when Maria shares that she took so long getting ready because "morning sickness makes it hard to feel cute."

Joel had hugged Tommy so tightly you were sure you heard bones cracking. You had just cried, throwing your arms around Maria, careful not to squeeze. Sarah asked to feel the baby and Maria told her it was a bit too early to feel much, but she still let her niece gently stroke her swelling belly.

"I think it's gonna be a boy," Maria told you sagely over lemonade at the table. "A mother knows."

You smile, thinking of a little mix of Maria and Tommy in the vision of a little baby boy. Your eyes sail over to Joel, watching as he chats with Jackson and Tommy. You wonder what it would be like if you had a kid. Who would it take after?

You’re distracted by this idea when Sarah and Bill bring out the dessert, followed by Frank with the coffee. The cupcakes are decorated to resemble beautiful flowers and you all wait as Sarah picks the perfect one for each of you. A daisy for Sarah, a lily each for Auntie Maria and Uncle Tommy, a purple rose for Daddy, a peony for Frank and a forget-me-not for Bill and finally Sarah smiles at the pink carnation she labored the longest over with Bill. Sarah immediately cites that this one belongs to you.

"That one," Sarah says pointing, watching as Bill pushes the plated cupcake in your direction. "Do you like that one, Mama?"

Joel's hand that's been absently rubbing along your spine stills when he hears that. His attention goes to your face, seeing the way your eyes have gotten wide. Mama.

You feel your breath catch in your chest as she calls you this, her tiny face turned up and smiling at you. You don't want to embarrass her, don't want to draw attention to the fact that she's called you Mama.

She did it so casually, so naturally that a part of you is worried she didn't even realize she'd done it. If you draw attention to it you're scared there's a chance that she'll take it back.

"I love it," you whisper, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Thank you, bug."

You kiss her again, feeling tears prick your eyes when Joel's hand skates to the small of your back, squeezing softly. Maria and Tommy are wet-eyed, and share a soft smile before turning their attention to their cupcakes. Frank sniffles, pretending he’s just about to sneeze. You catch Bill’s eyes across the table and when you see them glossy and that’s what makes the tears spill over your lash line.

"Why are you crying?" Sarah asks, her head cocked to the side. She can’t understand why everyone suddenly got so quiet.

"I'm not," you insist. "Just allergies."

Sarah is satisfied or maybe just relieved with this answer and she and clamors onto the chair next to you, ready to dig into her own cupcake. She leans companionably against you, starting to tell Auntie Maria and Uncle Tommy about the class hamster.

You feel Joel's kiss on your temple and you turn to see his eyes damp like yours.

"Mama," you whisper to him. "I'm Mama."

////////

3 years later

Joel is at your side, whispering how strong you are, how beautiful, but all you want to do is punch him.

Hard.

"You did this to me!" You say through clenched teeth as a wave of painful cramping goes through you. Your head falls back onto the damp hospital pillow.

"If I recall it was a very mutual decision," Joel insists with a wry smile. His mouth goes to your ear and his voice drops to a deliciously low timbre only you can hear. "The words 'fuck me pregnant' were a direct quote by you, were they not?"

You don't answer him on that. Not just because he's right, but because a stab of pain is going through your pelvis that takes your breath away.

St. David's is a very fine hospital with very fine people but at this moment everything is not fucking fine. You feel like you've been split in half by a fucking axe.

"Doing so good, baby," Joel croons, wiping the damp hair from your forehead and temples as he watches the doctor and nurses at your feet. "Keep going, keep going."

For a delirious moment you think that it was Joel saying these exact words that got you pregnant in the first place and you let out a high pitched laugh as Joel looks to you in concern.

"Push," the doctor says, breaking into your foggy brain. And so you do. As you have been doing for the last three fucking hours.

You grit your teeth, feeling Joel's mouth on your temple whispering words of encouragement and you push. You push with everything you have and then...

There is a pause and then the loud braying sound of a newborn's cry. The doctor's voice behind the mask rings out.

"It's a girl!"

A sister for Sarah, just like she'd wanted.

A second daughter for you and Joel.

You look over to see Joel's dark eyes shimmering with tears and you feel you've never been so in love with him as you are in this moment. You burst into tears, your face wet as Joel kisses you.

"You're amazing," Joel whispers against your mouth. "Fucking amazing."

The nurse brings over a pink faced infant with a shock of dark brown hair. She is pink all over and her little face is scrunched up as she wails. You take her into your arms, marveling at how you and Joel made the little creature you're now holding. She's so warm and she smells so good.

You glance over at Joel, recalling all the nights spent with his hand curving over your belly, murmuring soft sweet things to your daughter as she grew there. You think of when you both sang together, your hand carding through his hair and his eyes on you. You remember how on the days she felt really jumpy, all it would take is Joel singing a few bars from a song and she would quiet right down.

Now Joel's finger goes to trace the slope of her tiny nose and you smile as she quiets down, grunting. Seems he has a soothing effect on her outside the womb as well.

"She's so fucking perfect."

"Hopefully she doesn't swear as much as her parents," Joel says as he presses his lips to your temple.

You giggle at that, pulling her back so you can see your daughter's sweet face. The wailing has subsided and she gives little grunts as she tries to open her eyes.

"Hi Ellie," you coo. "We're your parents."

/////

Four years after your first meeting, Joel Miller sits across from you in the very booth you had your disastrous blind date on. It's become a sort of tongue in cheek tradition, to have you all back to where it began.

Only this booth is far more crowded than it ever was then. A very pregnant Maria slides in next to you, looking every bit the beautiful goddess she always does. Tommy and their son slip into the opposite side beside Joel, saying their hellos.

"They're so cute," Maria coos as she watches Sarah give Ellie a toy to play with before going back to her puzzle book.

"Sarah loves being a big sister," you smile softly.

"Tell that to Jackson would you?" Maria says rolling her eyes at her eldest child who is obsessed with his game boy. "He seems to think that this new baby means the beginning of the end."

"He's been an only child for so long he doesn't want to share you," you insist. But you can't help but feel secretly lucky that your daughter's had an immediate connection.

Even when pregnant, Sarah had talked to the baby in your belly, she'd even helped pick out her sisters name. At this moment Sarah is curled up next to you on her seat, pencil in hand and her eyes focused on her latest obsession.

Toad has been replaced by puzzle books (though you still find him under her pillow most nights) and her new favorite color is green. She's wearing green head to toe tonight including the green barrettes in her hair. She's like a slender blade of grass with wild hair and big, hazel eyes.

And while much about Sarah has changed, she still smiles when you and her father kiss, she still wows you with knowledge beyond her years and she still plays with the ends of your hair when she's anxious or distracted. Oh and she still loves you to death.

You sling an arm around her, your eyes on the menu before traveling up to watch Joel across from you. He's looking at Ellie in her booster seat next to him, babbling incoherently as most toddlers do.

Ellie is a daddy's girl though and through, obsessed with Joel the minute she laid eyes on him. It's now to the point where if she starts crying most mornings you simply glance his way. He always gives a grumpy frown before you see the smile peeking through as he goes to retrieve her from her crib.

He's smiling broadly at her now, his finger tracing down her nose as she gurgles. Something he’s done since she was born. There's something about seeing Joel Miller, all broad shoulders and inherent masculinity, being so soft that makes you love him harder.

Sometimes when you're watching him play with your daughters or watching him cook you all dinner, you feel this overwhelming love for Joel that's almost incapacitating.

He seems to sense your gaze because his eyes travel over to you. He gives you a playful wink.

"You look great tonight," Joel says with eyes that linger on your décolletage.

"Thanks," you say taking an equally appreciative look at your husband. "You clean up pretty well yourself."

More than pretty well. Joel Miller is, as Frank had once told you, sex on legs, and you have to agree with the assessment. His linen shirt is rolled to the elbows, showing off his muscled forearms. His hair is brushed back from his face and he's wearing his glasses as he reads the menu. (Something he only does when desperate as you’d found out when living with him).

Joel wets his lower lip without thinking, his eyes drifting back down the front of your dress. Maria and Tommy are helping Jackson decide on what to order for dinner, distracted from your end of the table.

"You keep looking at me like that, Miller and we're gonna wind up with another kid," you murmur with a smirk, knowing Sarah's not paying attention.

"I'm not opposed to that," Joel says, his gaze heated.

"That's because you don't have to carry or pop them out," you reply with a good-natured roll of your eyes. "Just get to do the fun part."

Joel grins as you tilt over the table to fix the bow in Ellie's hair that your mother sent you. Ellie gurgles happily at you, smacking her tiny fists on the table. Joel takes this as an opportunity to not very covertly ogle your chest.

"Joel," you hiss, even though a smile is breaking out over your features. Joel tries to look innocently up at you, brows raised.

“Yeah baby?”

You want to be irritated, but he knows very well you love it.

"I don't know this one, Mama," Sarah says pointing to something on the page in her puzzle book. She's normally very independent so you know she must be really stuck. You glance over at the crossword clue.

"A six lettered spore producer," you read aloud and think for a moment. "Fungus?"

"That fits," Sarah enthuses, her pencil writing hurriedly.

"Speaking of which, I'll have the mushroom ravioli," you say as your server comes to take your order. Joel orders his chicken penne and Sarah's spaghetti and then his hand comes to fall on yours as the server takes the rest of the orders for the table.

His hand is heavy and warm, but that's nothing compared to the warmth of his eyes. It's the kind of look you associate with deep thinking, his "dreamy stare" as you've coined it.

"What are you thinking about, Miller?'

"Just that I never thought I'd be married to the same woman who screamed at me in the parking lot of this very restaurant."

You giggle behind your wineglass, watching Joel's eyes go soft.

"Or how happy I'd be."

He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing gently. He holds you there, watching as you stare back at him with eyes so full of love you're shocked Cupid himself hasn't come to give you his job.

You begin to smirk when Joel's dark eyes drop to your chest and then dart back to your face.

"I was also thinking about how three is a very nice number. . ."

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vscabarca · 7 days

Note

heyy!! how you doing? i hope you're ok!! I saw you had your requests open soo what do you think of gavi x brazilian!reader where she's a friend of natalia (raphinha's wife) and meets him at a team's reunion at raphinha's house where he overheard she talking to the other wags saying she's had a crush on him ever since the world cup but he's so embarrassed and shy about it because gorgeous woman knows he exists and likes him so he panics at that and even his friends try to help (after of course teasing him in all ways imaginable) so they end up locked in a spare room in the house and finally talk and he realizes they actually have a lot in common and asks her out and she kisses him. hope you like it!! goodnight or day love!!

brazilian charm - pablo gavi

summary: Brazilian reader meets Gavi again after a year of not seeing each other at Natalia‘s party. What will happen when they are locked up in a room together?

genre: fluff

a/n: such a cute requesttt!!!! thank you sm!

———

„Natalia!“ You squealed, happy to see your friend after such a long time. It was Natalia‘s, Raphinha‘s wife’s birthday and as you recently moved here, she gladly invited you. Natalia embraced you in a long hug, swaying back and forth with a drink in her hand.

„I‘m so glad you could make it!“ She grinned and finally let you go. „Of course! I wouldn’t miss it for anything!“

„Come on, let’s introduce you to my friends.“ Natalia swiftly grabbed your hand and led you through the crowd of people, saying hello here and there as you walked by. Not far away were Fermin and Pablo, both comfortably sitting on the couch, observing the scene. The two didn’t see you at first, so you made a mental note to go over to them and say hello after you’ve met Natalia‘s girlfriends. Pablo and you already met each other during the World Cup in Qatar. You travelled alongside Raphina‘s wife, watching the games of the Brazilian National Team and came across the Sevillian midfielder. You hit it off quite well after spending some time together.

„I‘ll go and say hello to Pablo, be right back.“ You informed Natalia and her friends, and walked towards the couch. Pablo finally saw you wander towards him and he couldn’t stop but smile.

„You’re staring hermano.“ Fermin said under his breath as he saw how his friend couldn’t take his eyes off you.

„I am not.“ He fired back but they couldn’t continue bickering as you were standing in front of them.

„Hey guys.“ You politely said and gave each of them a hug. You emerged into light conversation, but it was incredibly awkward between you and Pablo. Both didn’t really know what to say so Fermin was the one leading the conversation.

„What are you doing here? Don’t you live in Rio?“

„I did until a few weeks ago, my model agency is now based in Barcelona.“ You explained, getting surprised looks from the guys.

You were about to ask Pablo about his knee, but Natalia came over, claiming she urgently had to speak with you.

As you were gone again, Fermin‘s attention turned back towards his friend.

„Heard that?“ He nudged his shoulder but Pablo was still looking at you from afar.

„What?“

„She lives here in Barcelona now.“ His eyebrows wiggled up and down, trying to gain some reaction from the midfielder.

„Do you think she’s seeing someone? I mean I wouldn’t be surprised if she was, but-„ That wasn’t even what Fermin had asked, but he already could sense Pablo had a thing for the Brazilian girl. He actually found it funny how Pablo was blabbering about her, so he decided to ask someone who surely knew if she was single or not.

Pablo was too slow to stop his friend from grabbing Raphinha‘s arm.

„Do you know if Y/n has a boyfriend?“

Raphina started laughing, shaking his head.

„I don’t think so. Why? does Pablito still have a crush on her since the World Cup?“

Pablo swiftly turned his head, surprised he knew about his attraction towards you.

„It’s a bit obvious.“ Raphina said and patted his head before walking away again.

In the meantime Natalia dragged you back to her friends, giving you a drink and started with the gossip about relationships and what not.

„As someone as gorgeous as you, you must have a lover right?“ Dayana, Vitor Roque‘s wife, asked you.

You shook your head slightly, feeling your cheeks head up. You were about to respond but Natalia was quick in jumping in.

„She still hopes Pablo will magically ask her out, even though Y/n knows he’s even shyer than her!“ Natalia scolded you, earning roars from her friends.

„Pablo? You mean Pablo Gavi?“ Mikkey asked for confirmation, to which you nodded again.

„How cute!“ Dayana chimed in a bit too loud.

What you didn’t realize to that time, Pablo stood not that far away from you, hearing what was said in these last few minutes. He swiftly turned his head towards Fermin and Pedri who joined the two not too long ago. They were both grinning at their younger friend, nudging him several times. But Pablo was terrified. What was he doing now? You were a gorgeous woman having a crush on a guy who was kicking a football around. His friends noticed the panic in his eyes and were quick to help him.

„See? she likes you too, now go and ask her out.“ Pedri spoke and already wanted to push him towards you but he stopped.

„Yeah no.“

„What no? Yes!“ Fermin interrupted and slapped the back of his head.

„Oye! I don’t even know how to ask a girl out, especially not one who’s as pretty as she is.“ Pablo could be so stubborn and shy sometimes, preventing him from doing things he wanted to do, just like now asking the girl out on a date he liked for over a year.

The party went on with you and him exchanging a few more words but neither did something about their little crushes. You then saw Natalia and Fermin whisper something to each other, but you couldn’t tell what they were on about. Natalia then walked over to you, a smug smile plastered across her face.

„Y/n could you grab me some blankets from our guest room? Fermin and his friends wanted to sit outside but it got a bit too cold. I would do it but I need to check on Gael.“ You were already on your feet, giving Pablo a quick smile before disappearing upstairs to grab the things Natalia asked you for.

In the guest bedroom you searched for these bloody blankets but just couldn’t find them anywhere. The door suddenly opened and Pablo stood in the doorway next to you.

„Gosh Pablo you scared me.“ You exclaimed, clutching your chest and let out a huff. He chuckled, wanting to say more but right then the door closed and the lock turned. Both your heads turned towards the door. Confused, Pablo made his way to the door and tried to open it but it wouldn’t budge.

„These idiots.“ You said with an open mouth, knowing exactly Natalia did that on purpose. Pablo only burst out laughing, throwing his head back.

„That’s why Fermin and Natalia were talking so much together.“ He concluded and sat down onto the bed. You took a seat next to him, leaning back onto your hands.

„Someone has to take away the alcohol they drank.“ You grinned and so did Pablo.

„Anyway, I guess we have to spend the time here until they’ve had enough fun with their plan.“

Pablo plopped down onto the bed and you did the same, turning your head so you were looking at him sideways.

„How have you been after the World Cup? We kinda lost touch.“ You said, feeling your heartbeat increase. He looked beautiful.

„We did.“ his mouth formed into a thin line, probably also not liking how you lost contact after the tournament. „But I‘ve been doing good, except for the knee injury but I‘m feeling much better already. What about you?“

„I‘m doing great, a lot of live changes but I couldn’t be happier here in Barcelona.“ Pablo smiled sweetely and you caught his gaze shifting quickly from your eyes to your lips.

„You look very pretty today, even prettier than I had remembered.“ Your heart fluttered at his words and your mind drifted to the nights you spent sneaking outside the hotel room to meet Pablo to head up to the rooftop and look at the stars.

„You’re very handsome yourself. You’ve always been.“ You complimented back and it seemed like you two scooted closer.

„Now that you’re in Barcelona… is there a chance to take you out on a date?“ You immediately grinned and nodded your head, then leaned in closer.

„May I?“ Pablo whispered, his gaze shifting again from your eyes to your lips. You gave him a quick nod again, your hand already drawing him closer by his neck. The fire in your body intensified as he crashed his lips onto yours, making you sigh contentedly. You never wanted to let him go. Pablo pulled you closer by your waist, kissing you until there was no air left.

As you both broke apart, you broke into little fits of giggles, both still a bit shy from the kiss you just shared.

„Natalia! let us out now!“

#fc barcelona #football one shot #pablo gavi #gavi x reader #pablo gavi x reader #gavi #football x reader #gavi one shot #barça #pedri x reader

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callmerainman · 2 months

Text

Accidentally In Love | sinner!Adam x fem!sinner!Reader

PART 1 | PART 2

plot. You and Adam became friends with benefits. The lines of your situationship are blurred. Even more so when you and the First Man get closer and closer. What will it take you to understand that you and Adam are falling in love?

word count. 3.8k

tags. enemies to lovers, sinner!Adam, friends with benefits, sexual content, p in v sex, Adam Has a Heart, falling in love, Reader has wings, Reader is Lucifer's Royal Guard.

TW! this chapter contains an explicit sexual scene, MINORS DNI

taglist. @kaces-mind @call-me-nyxx @serendipitous-fernweh @plutodestr0yedme @luvvnightingalee

a/n. here it is, final chapter! Thank you for reading this silly little fic, I'll for sure write more about Adam soon! Hope you enjoyed it <3

"and now I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like I love you"

—

It’s karaoke night for you and Adam. Yeah, karaoke night. At first it started off as a joke. One time, after an usual afternoon of strenuous intercourse, you and Adam found yourselves singing “Out on the Tiles” by Led Zeppelin. You had decided to put on some music in shuffle to try to muffle up your obscene sounds that both of you understood you couldn’t contain. Next thing you knew you and Adam were performing an improvised gig on the already ruined bed of your room.

“I’m so glad I’m living and gonna tell the world I am” you sang out of your lungs, holding an imaginary mic.

You pointed towards Adam, prompting him to finish the lyrics. Smiling, Adam clenched his hand in a fist to pretend to be on the mic too. He leaned backwards, throwing his head back.

“I got me a fine woman and she says that I’m her man” he sang back, enthusiastically.

This singing shenanigans would happen so often that you decided to set your own karaoke night on Fridays. You and Adam stole a karaoke machine from a bar and installed it in his room. And now he’s holding you by the shoulders, vigorously shaking you in a playful manner as you can’t stop laughing.

“Feels like you’re dying, you’re dying” he sings with all the air he could gather.

You bend in half, this time a real mic in your hand “Youuuuuuu, your sex is on fire”.

Adam mimics a guitar riff with an high pitched voice as you sing along to Kings of Leon.

“Consuuuuuumed, with what’s to transpire!” Adam goes, crouching onwards himself.

Something definitely changed between you and Adam. You still don’t know what it is but it’s pacifying you.

—

The other patrons at the Hotel noticed, even though a bit later. Your relationship was so obviously sexual that none of them really stopped to think if there was more. Until signs started to show.

One time, all of you were watching a movie downstairs. You had forced Adam to participate even if he didn’t want to and was suggesting to have another karaoke night instead. But in the end, you both plopped down on the couch next to each other with everyone and got comfortable in front of a romantic comedy Charlie put on. At first, you and Adam tried to keep your facade of annoyance. You and him were so dense, you didn’t think the others knew that you two were fucking, so you had to pretend to still hate each other. But, as the movie progressed, you and Adam lost your purpose of showing a fake resentment. You glanced down and noticed the tip of your fingers resting really close to Adam’s. His fingers, weirdly enough, were moving in a jerking motion, stroking the fabric of the couch back and forth, as if he was nervous. You moved your fingers closer. With unusual uncertainty from his part, Adam slid his fingers even closer to yours, making them touch. And you and Adam held hands. You decided not to mention it, staring at the TV with your face on fire and his cheeks colored in a red hue. Your hands stayed intertwined the whole movie, and when it ended you separated quickly, again naively thinking that nobody noticed. But, during the movie, Angel had definitely noticed. The spider demon let out one of the loudest gasps in his life as he covered his mouth with four hands. When you and Adam went upstairs later, everyone was still hanging out in the common room. And Angel raised his shoulders and arms.

“Are y’all blind or did you see what I saw?” he asked, almost irritated.

“What?” Cherri asked while mindlessly scrolling on her phone.

“Like, (Y/N) and Adam holding hands?!” he exclaimed, his arms dramatically falling flat on his sides.

“They’ve been fucking like two horny rabbits for months and this is where you draw the line?” Husk questions, raising a red eyebrow.

“Fucking is one thing, holding hands while watching a romantic movie is another!” Angel protest.

Cherri chuckles “It’s obvious by the amount of sex they have that there’s more”.

“Obvious?” Angel questions “Uhhh, hello?? Hate sex is a thing!”.

And that wasn’t the one and only time. Seems so obvious to everyone now, except to you two. It’s in the way you and Adam snuggle during movies, or when you’re cooking and he hugs you from behind, resting his chin in the space between your horns. It’s in the fact that you don’t call each other names anymore unless you’re having sex. Or when you fly around the city together pulling pranks on people, and sing your hearts out during karaoke. Now it’s not only in the way you two wildly wrestle under the sheets. It’s in the goofy way you try to sweep it under the carpet.

“Uh, we’re going upstairs uh to…FIGHT! Definitely not to have sex! Because we hate SEX!” Adam stopped “No wait, I love sex, I mean-“

“We’d HATE to have sex with each other!” you say, trying to back him up.

“Exactly, not with such a stupid cunt!”

“Hey, too much” you whisper, elbowing his side.

“Oh shit I’m so sorry babe”

And everybody looked at you the most unconvinced, inexpressive poker face. But Charlie, underneath, felt that it was heartwarming. Even if Adam whispered in your ear a “can’t wait to fuck your brains out” when displaying apparent affection, she knew that something was going on and it was nothing but beautiful. This is the purpose of the Hazbin Hotel, after all.

—

Honestly you have no idea what you and Adam are right now. First, you were just a Royal Guard who had to surveil the First Man on Earth, the Exterminator. Then you became his friend with benefits. Now sex is still here, but maybe you’re more friends than anything? Or more. Nothing was defined. You never set boundaries. You had your fair chances of getting intimate with other people, but it felt so wrong so you never went for sex. Adam felt the same. When Cherri brought everyone to the club to have a night out, he had his opportunities to have sex with other girls. But he just didn’t feel like it was right. Especially not if you were in the club with him.

“You can do what you like, you know?” you suggested him in his ear one of those times, in a space between the bar counter and the dance floor. But Adam just shook his head.

“Nah, don’t really feel like it. I mean, yeah that bitch with the black top was all over me but she’s not my type”

He tried to play it cool, not looking at you in the eyes. But in reality, Adam was just checking around to see if your friends were looking. And when he made sure that they were out of sight, he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you deeply. It was unexpected coming from him, sure, but you let yourself melt in his kisses as music bumped in your ears. Something was happening.

—

“Here you are” you say.

Your hair is flowing, moved by the slow but firm flapping of your wings. You’re suspended meters and meters high, just in front of the Hazbin Hotel sign. Adam is sitting on the “Z”, holding his golden guitar in his hands. He looks kinda annoyed.

“I was just practicing guitar” he says.

“And I’m still a Royal Guard on duty”

“If your duty is going at it with the one guy you were supposed to surveil, then you’re already doing a great job”

You roll your eyes and scoff “Funny, very funny Adam”.

“Alright, you can hear me play something” he gives in.

“As long as it’s not Wonderwall”

“The fuck no, I fuckin’ hate the Oasis!”

So, with another flap of your wings, you gracefully land next to him. You expect Adam to go wild with one of his exaggerated, over-the-top and ego-boosting guitar solos. But instead, Adam quietly starts a finger picking, quite tune. It’s not a specific rock song, just a chill, peaceful chord progression. Adam starts humming a tune, eyes closed. You press your elbows against your knees and rest your cheek in the open palm of your hand, looking at the view. Pentagram City is a mess, for sure. But with Adam’s unusually calm vocalizing, and his presence, it feels like home. You peek a look at Adam. He’s still keeping his eyes closed, it’s the first time you see him so calm, and not his loud, immature self. He’s beautiful. You realize that your face is hot. And you can’t see it but your pupils are dangerously dilated. You press your lips together, and you feel your heart pounding in your chest. Oh you know what’s happening. Maybe you should make it stop. You try to take a deep breath. You’re so in love with Adam.

Adam is lost in his own thoughts and music. He was so comfortable in your presence as he strummed that he almost forgot you were there. He opens his eyes, he just wants to take a quick look at you before closing them again. He realizes that he’s done for the moment he sees how you’re looking at him. With shining eyes, dilated pupils, a fond smile on your face. He doesn’t really realize what it means for you, neither do you. But now his heart is beating at unprecedented speed. Shit, shit, shit. It’s not the first time it happens with you. One time, he felt this way when he woke up before you and saw you sleeping naked next to him, cuddled in his arms. The other was when you held hands for the first time during movie time with the other guests. But this time he’s feeling it on a whole other level. You’re so beautiful. And you’re standing by him listening to his tunes despite the man he is. The one who did so much harm but it’s trying to get better. Adam doesn’t know if he actually has gained any redeeming qualities, but one thing he’s sure about is that at least with you he is a better man. He thinks back on when you two used to argue non stop, resenting each other’s presence. It looks like a far, distant reality that never happened, if anything it’s at least a joke. Adam is so in love with you.

—

Sex still represents the majority of your relationship with Adam. Unlike your feelings, it never changed. Always so loud, fun, satisfying for sure, and unhinged. You and Adam could unleash your personalities at best under the sheets, and that was the best part of it. But this time, something is out of place. Not in a bad way, at all.

Adam is on top of you, placed between your spread legs. His wings are wide open, covering your naked bodies and encapsulating them in a small space reserved to only you two. His thrust are firm, but also slow and sensual, which wasn’t really his style. He’s holding your face with both hands, as he’s mesmerized by your deep moans of pleasure. You cling onto him with nails and legs, holding him as if he was about so slip away. You open your eyes, and catch him staring. He would usually say something sarcastic, like asking the fuck are you looking at. But instead, he looks lost in a profound state of blissful hypnosis, his pupils dilated and mouth slightly parted. Then, Adam plunges forward, still sliding in and out of you with slick sounds. Your breathing becomes even more irregular, hips jerking under his body as waves of pleasure hit you. You tug at Adam’s hair in the spot between his horns. With one hand, Adam firmly holds your hip, while the other has its fingers entangled in your hair, lightly pulling them.

“A-Adam…please I’m so close” you stutter. You would never beg usually, but this time it’s hard not to do so.

What surprises you is the way Adam responds. He would have usually bragged about you begging for him to make you reach your climax, reminding you how much of a whore you are for him. And you would have protested by flipping the roles and making him a mess under your body. But Adam just sinks his face in your neck, whispering.

“I know baby, I know. I got you” he says, interrupted by a moan “Fuck you’re doing so good I swear”.

His movements in you become more erratic, sloppier, and his breath hotter against your ear. The fingers plunged in your hair start stroking your scalp, you try to suffocate your moans of pleasure in his shoulder. You come first around his shaft, whispering quietly his name until you come down from your high. Adam climaxes second, emitting a low, strangled moan in your neck as his wings twitch. You take some time to realize how good it was, your chests rising and lowering with every breath, holding each other. It’s when your mind clears that you realize how atypical of a sexual encounter that was for you and Adam. It was…sweet? Really intimate and not in the physical meaning of the word? Adam never praised you in bed, and you never spoke to him so gently asking to make you finish. And the way he looked at you was absurd, to say at best. With a cherry colored hue on his cheeks, and a light in his eyes you rarely saw in him.

“Ah shit that was great” Adam chuckles, collapsing next to you.

The pride in his face says it all, maybe you were wrong before. You mentally shrug.

“Yeah” you roll on your side, facing him “but I’m so hungry right now”.

Adam sighs, looking up at the ceiling “When I was in Heaven, there was this place that delivered the best fucking ice cream your taste buds could ever graze. A mountain of it. Great for after sex I swear. I miss it”.

Adam takes the opportunity to talk about Heaven more. He’s clearly being nostalgic. He misses it. And while you like hearing him waffling about all the crazy concert he performed, the best restaurants, theme parks and clubs in Heaven, you can’t help but frown. A small smile still lingers on your face, but you ask yourself if Adam really belongs in here. A part of you says of course yes, the other is unsure.

“You know” you say, scooting closer to him “I’ve never really asked myself about how life in Heaven would be. But it really sounds like a beautiful place”.

Adam nods, twisting on his side to face you “Oh fuck yeah it was, I wish I could…”

He interrupts himself as he meets your face, pressed against the pillow. A small, comprehensive smile is gently placed on it, and your eyes are stuck in his own with a visible shine.

Oh no don’t look at me like that.

Adam’s grin disappears, he looks away and tries to play it cool as always, glancing around the room. He clears his throat.

“Yeah I mean, Heaven was great but under a certain perspective…” he trails off.

You wait for him to finish, and he can’t escape your eyes. He finally reciprocates again, getting lost into them.

“Hell is not half-bad, for some reasons” he says.

Adam doesn’t realize it, but now he’s smiling too. His eyebrows are arched upwards in adoration as he ponders on every inch of you. Your now relaxed expression, your glimmering eyes, your naked body covered in white sheets, your head slightly plunged in the pillow. Suddenly, Adam’s smile fades. His eyes go wide, and his heart skips a beat. A wave of realization hits him.

“Holy shit (Y/N) I’m so in love with you”.

Both of you jump in surprise, moving away from each other as the mattress bounces under your bodies. You clench the sheets, and you feel your heart pounding. Where did that come from?!

“What?!” you exclaim.

“WHAT?!” Adam yelps back, incredulous of his own words.

He didn’t mean to say it out loud, he didn’t even mean to say it in his mind actually. You can feel his own panic on your skin, as every inch of your body figuratively catches fire. You don’t know what to say. Adam sits up, covering his face with a hand in embarrassment.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry I ruined everything!” he exclaims, voice panicky.

“Ruined what?”

Oh no. It takes you a second to realize what you said. Adam’s hand files down from his face and looks at you. And you see something you thought you would never witness on Adam’s face. Pain. Adam is hurt. His mouth is slightly open, his breath suspended, his eyebrows knitted. You used to call him many names when you two argued. An asshole, a dirtbag, a dickhead, an irresponsible, immature jerk. But Adam never batted an eye. It’s the first time you see an unmistakable, terrible flash of pain in his face. You feel horrible. You sit up, your mouth open and about to say something. It’s hard to gather the right words after saying something so wrong. You extend a hand towards him, but Adam leans back, away from your touch.

“Adam fuck that’s not what I…” you say, voice shaky.

Adam shuffles away from you again, his face full of regret, embarrassment and clearly pain. He shakes his head, proceeding to get out of bed. He starts looking frantically for his clothes, putting them on as quick as he can. No words come out your mouth, your mind too confused and full of things to process. In just a matter of seconds, Adam is already dressed.

“I-I’m sorry, I gotta go” he stutters, looking at you for a split second.

“Adam, wait! I’m sorry I didn’t mean to sa-!”

You don’t have time to finish what you have to say. Adam had already opened the window of your room, and in the blink of an eye he flew away. Shit, shit, shit! Why did you even say that? That came out so wrong. But you couldn’t help it, you were so taken aback by his sudden confession. You mentally punch yourself in the face. Physically, you limit yourself to drag a hand down your face and groan loudly in your palm. You try to give yourself some time to think, you don’t want to hurt Adam even more. You spend some minutes with your face smothered in your pillow, suffocating sounds of pure frustration. After you gathered your thoughts together, you finally get up from the bed. You put your clothes back on, and head towards the still open window. With a strong flap of your wings, you sprint upwards. As you thought, Adam is sitting on the Hotel sign. He looks pissed. His lips are tightly pressed together and his eyebrows are knitted at the corners. He notices you but doesn’t look up.

“Adam, c’mon…” you say, as kindly as you can.

You keep floating in front of him, the wind generated by your wings making Adam’s hair slightly flow. He doesn’t look at you, he’s just staring at his own knees. For a solid minute you two don’t say anything. Silence has never been a thing between you and Adam, but you respect his wish. Suddenly, Adam breaks it.

“It’s not like you have to pity me” he mumbles.

“I’m not pitying you”

“Um yeah? I just ran off like a pissy school girl and here you are looking at me like a lost child”

“Adam-“

“You know how much time has passed since I last said those words?”

You don’t say anything. Adam finally looks up at you, his eyes a mess of emotions.

“Centuries” he says, spiteful of himself.

Your eyebrows arch upwards in surprise, your forehead corrugated. Your stomach burns, as you can finally feel every emotion Adam tried to hide under sarcasm for so long.

“Centuries?” you ask.

“Yeah, and I know I’ve been literally fucking around for a lot of time so it’s actually my fault, but I can’t say that I don’t mean it once I say it”

“Adam, my question was genuine”.

His mind stops in his tracks. You look weirdly calm. A bit unsure, of course, this is your first very serious conversation. But you’re still collected and he envies you.

“I really wanted to ask you what did you think you ruined. Because I’ll admit it, and I don’t wanna hurt you even more, but I don’t know what goes on in your head. We have all this sex, but also some care, but we also bicker. It’s confusing. I don’t even know if monogamy is your thing. But you showed me care. Sometimes, you still are a bit of a jerk let’s be honest. But I felt care too”.

Your stomach is twirling around, but you can’t stop your flow of consciousness. You wanna know what Adam means, what the First Man wants from a sinner he swore to hate not so long ago. Adam strokes his hair with a hand. His blush intensifies.

“I myself don’t really know what we are. If you know please fuckin’ tell me. What I know is that I feel something, love if that’s what we wanna call it. I mean, look at you! You sing along to rock songs with me, you know how to fight and look so badass while doing it, and you’re hot as fuck too! But if you don’t feel the sa-“

In a sudden movement, you zip towards Adam and grab him by his robe to push him on your lips. He lets out a muffled sound of surprise, but quickly closes his eyes to reciprocate the kiss. It’s calm, sweet, your lips and tongue are moving in tandem in such a tender yet passionate manner. It’s full of care, whatever it is. When you pull away, you look at each other in slight embarrassment. But you push it back immediately.

“I would have never thought I’d say it to you, but I do love you, Adam. Even if you’re still not perfect at all, you’re still a dickhead let’s admit it, I feel something for you. And I don’t expect you to suddenly become a better person just for the sake of being with me, but right now I’m sure I love you like this”.

You had blurted it all out in a single breath, still close to Adam’s face after your kiss. And finally, he smiles. Not with his usual teasing, shit eating grin. He smiles genuinely.

“I still don’t know if I’ll be a redeemable man, or if I want to become one. But at least with you I feel a bit of a better man”.

You smile back at Adam. He looks like a whole other person compared to how he was when you met. He still is his old self. But you came to love him. You and Adam lean forward, capturing yourselves in another deep, thoughtful kiss. Your wings meet, grazing each other as they close around you two. After a while of getting lost in your affection, you separate and playfully smirk.

“C’mon you whiny baby, why don’t we go downstairs to join everyone for movie night?” you suggest.

Adam groans and rolls his eyes “Us being a thing doesn’t mean that I have to participate in every fuckin’ activity of this Hotel”

“Uhh, yeah it does? I’m still in charge of forcing you to join. Now get your lazy ass off of there and let’s go”

“Okay, finee but can we have sex again after?”

“Of course we can”

“Hell yeah”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel x reader #adam #adam x reader #sinner adam #writers on tumblr #hazbin hotel adam fanfiction #hazbin hotel adam #adam x you #adam fanfiction #enemies to lovers #adam hazbin hotel #adam hazbin x reader #reader insert #x reader #vivziepop #hazbin hotel x you #adam x y/n

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jade-green-butterfly · 6 months

Text

Just watched Trolls Band Together...ABSOLUTELY LOVED IT!!😍😍😍(SPOILERS AHEAD, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!)

Oooh, my Harmonia...just got back from watching Trolls Band Together and my GOODNESS!!🤩✨🤩✨🤩Words cannot describe how amazed and engrossed I was into the whole movie!!💖💖💖Was it worth the seven month wait?😗TOTALLY!!😍😍😍It was absolutely fantastic, and I LOVED and enjoyed every single moment of it!!🥰

I was really getting into scenes, got quite a few laughs out of some scenes and was touched the wholesome ones~💕Branch's brothers were just as enjoyable on screen - John Dory still being my fave as he grew throughout the movie (LOVE Rhonda too!😁) Spruce/Bruce is such a lovable family man, Clay was (serious)ly awesome in his scenes and the tender moments between Floyd and Branch really got me...especially with the flashbacks...🥲 It was so great to see Grandma Rosiepuff again, though I do wish there was more feeling shown when her death was mentioned, hopefully the brothers will come to terms with it more in time...and Branch's bunker plan for them all, d'awww...~🥺So he DID build the bunker for all his family...😭 Viva was such an amazing character as well as she adorably bonded with Poppy (ooh, dear King Peppy, I know you were heartbroken at the time but c'mon...😅) and finally braved out of her comfort zone, and Tiny Diamond going through his big boy phase was real cute and funny😂Bridget and King Gristle were great too, it was lovely seeing them again along with the Bergens!😊 I had a feeling Velvet and Veneer were luring BroZone to them, they were such good villains with their goals and personalities but I am glad Floyd got through to Veneer in the end, and he saw the wrong he and his sister were doing, and came clean to everyone. And Crimp was a cutie and deserves better🫂(glad she got a hug from Poppy and stood up to Velvet and Veneer in the end😌) And it was also great to see some of the Snack Pack again too, including Prince D and especially my darling Cooper too, eeeee~!😍💗💗💗He looked so dapper!💝🥰 Speaking of Poppy, she was just as darling as ever~!😚I seriously LOVED her relationship and her undying love for Branch blossom so much here whilst supporting and fangirling for him all the way as they interacted, bless her~😊And that sweet BROPPY KISS!!🤭...🤩I was going 'YES!! FINALLY!!' under my breath, grinning from ear to ear in that moment~💙💖And that moment when I thought he was gonna pop the question during the performance during the end...hehe, maybe another time~😉But I certainly didn't expect *NSYNC to show up in their trollsonas near the end...what a twist!😮

The chase scene and perfect family harmony scene were truly epic and it really shows, it doesn't have to be perfect as long as we're altogether~💞💓All the locations of the brothers were stunning to look at, with Vacay Island and Spruce/Bruce's family, the creepy abandoned Bergen golf course with the Putt-Putt Trolls, and finally Mount Rageous - a whole lot of wonder to take in!💖Walt Dohrn, Gina Shay and the DreamWorks Animation Crew did such an fantastic job on everything!✨🌟✨And that huge BroZone hug...again, d'aaaaww~!😭

As for the songs...I'll be downloading the rest of the album now because they were all wonderful to listen to!🎧🎶Real boyband and 90's nostalgia~✨I know they're gonna be stick in my head for a long time, hehe!😆I have so many faves, especially all versions of 'Better Place'~😚

A greatly HUGE thank-you in a million to everyone Trolls for such a fantastic movie, which I wonderfully enjoyed all the way through, from start to finish!🌟👏👏👏🌟AAAHH!!💓💗💓I JUST LOVED IT ALL!! 😍🤩😍I give it a solid 9.5 out of 10!!😊👍✨Totally made my weekend~!🫶🥰

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f1girliefics · 3 months

Text

Only Us

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Warnings: Car crash, injury, broken bones description of possible open fracture

Summary: A simple race, a not so simple crash.

You were excited to see Daniel back on the track, his new contract with the Alpha Tauri team was a good sign.

You were very happy for him.

He wasn't home when the call came.

The person calling from the hospital explained one of his greatest fears over the phone, you were in an accident.

It was late, he should have been home, but as soon as he got the call, he got his keys and left.

“Mr Ricciardo?”

“Yes, who is this?” he asked the woman on the other end of the line.

“My name is Janet Frank calling from St Vincent's Hospital: Emergency Room, you are listed as the emergency contact for Miss Y/L/N.”

“What happened?”

“She was involved in a car accident. She is currently in surgery, but the police here would like to talk to you.” Daniel felt his stomach drop.

“I-I will be right there!”

He arrived about thirty minutes later, out of breath as he ran to the front desk.

“I’m here for Miss Y/L/N.”

“To your right down the hall, take a right, you will see the police there.”

“Thank you.” he said before he started to walk fast towards the direction he was told.

As he took a right he saw two policemen standing there.

“I’m Miss Y/L/N’s boyfriend.” he told the two officers.

“Mr Ricciardo?” one asked and Daniel nodded. “My name is Sergeant Dwight, this is my partner, Sergeant Dennis. Your girlfriend was in a car accident this early afternoon. A drunk driver rear-ended her, pushed her onto incoming traffic and she was T-boned. She was conscious when we arrived on the scene.”

Daniel thanked the officers and soon rushed to your doctor who explained that you were okay, they needed to do a surgery on your knee because it got broken and trapped. Other than that, you were alright considering the circumstances.

Soon, you were out of surgery and in a room, waking up.

You immediately noticed Daniel by your side, smiling at you as he held your hand, he said something but you couldn’t hear him.

“Don’t move too much.” he said as you groaned in pain when you tried to sit up. “You had a knee surgery.”

“Oh, yeah, I remember. I looked at it in the car and saw the blood and I think my bone was also sticking out.”

“Thank you for the visual.” he made a face and you smiled a little.

“I’m alright though.” he nodded acknowledging that you were indeed, still alive. Your voice did calm him.

“I nearly fell on poor Yuki when I got the call, he had to jump out of the way.” you laughed a little.

“I’m so high on painkillers right now.” you smiled and Daniel laughed, seeing your expression.

“I’m so glad you are alive.”

“Yeah, but you will have to nurse me, doctor said I can’t walk for months.”

“I am okay with that. At least you won’t leave my sight.”

“I’m okay with that.” you smiled as he laughed a little. He touched your face, his expression turned serious as he looked at you, you could see the weight from his shoulders falling off.

You knew how he was, all smiles as if he had no worries and yet, on the inside he worried all the time. Over his family, over himself and over you.

It was natural to him.

You could only imagine how much it hurt him to see you in a hospital bed with a fucked up knee.

“You couldn’t have done anything different.” you said, trying to reassure him. “Even if you drove me, we would both be now on a bed, and you had important meetings. It wasn’t your fault.”

“I still feel like as if I could have done something.” he said as he looked into your eyes.

“You couldn’t have. It wasn’t our fault. What’s important is that we are both here, alive and happy.”

“You are right.” he let out a long sigh.

You pulled his arm and he moved closer to give you a kiss.

Nothing mattered but the two of you.

You will deal with your knee, you will deal with getting a new car, you will deal with getting the other driver the time they deserve.

For now, it was only you two.

DO NOT STEAL, REUPLOAD OR TRANSLATE!

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stainedstardom · 1 year

Note

I am DESPERATE for some chad meeks x reader with some hints of ethan having a crush on reader

maybe some angst with the richie shrine scenes and ethan revealing himself and revealing the crush and saying something about being glad he killed chad because of reader or something like that and reader is pissed and curses him to the moon and back so quinn stabs her in the arm and ethans just like ":(" maybe reader ends up killing him brutally instead of tara with some sprinkles of fluff near the end with reader finding out chads alive

FINALLY THANK THE LORD. THE SUN IS SHINING, THE BIRDS ARE SINGING AND I AM DANCING. WE LOVE CHAD HERE, ALSO JEALOUS ETHAN.

YOU'RE NOT DEAD

chad meeks martin x reader with a sprinkle of one-sided love on ethans side

he was gone. he was dead and there was nothing you could do about it, what do you do when you lose the one person you truly deeply love? do you fight back or do you let yourself lose?

if you knew the answer you wouldnt be here. you wouldn't be standing in front of quinn, ethan and detective bailey as they all stood in their ghost faces robs. your hand held taras, you knew what it felt like to lost someone you loved. her with amber and you with chad.

"why? why'd you do it?" you asked ethan and he laughed. he walked towards you but you backed up. you saw the look in his eyes and you didn't like it but you wouldn't say that.

"i had to get you away from chad, he's a literal alpha named chad. fuck it felt good to kill him! now I have you to myself" he stated and you backed up.

"fuck you ethan, i wont ever be with you. i don't want anything to do with you. you're going to fucking die, you cunt ass whore" you told him. quinn stepped to you and sliced your arm

"ow fuck" you yelled. ethan had a frown on his face and you shook your head.

"RUN" tara yelled as she grabbed your hand. you held hers as she held sams and you all ran, at some point they let go and you got separated.

"ohhh y/n, where are you?" you heard and you sighed. you needed to do this , for chad.

"FUCKING ASSHOLE" you yelled as you jumped from your hiding place and punched him in the face. you grabbed the knife from his hand and you stabbed him in his side.

"i wont ever be yours" you said as you took the knife out and stabbed his other side. you stared him in his eyes and smiled

"die a virgin you fucking bitch" you said and you swiped the knife as you gutted him. you heard a gun shot come from somewheres. you looked down at ethans dead body. you dropped the knife and went to find the girls. sam held a gun as she stared at quinns dead body, detective bailey laid next to her.

"we're all alive?" sam said and you nodded. you walked forward and you hugged them. the cops were called , you walked out and there in an ambulance was chad.

"chad?" you said and he turned to you. he removed the oxygen mask as you ran over. you put your hands on his face and looked him over.

"whos blood is this?" he asked as he looked at your hands and your body.

"its ethans, i killed him" you told him and he smiled.

"and i thought that i couldnt find you more attractive" he stated and you leaned in and kissed him as he kissed you back and you both smiled into the kiss. he held your waist as you held his face.

it felt good to have him back. chad was alive and safe, he was still yours.

A/N: first chad ask and i feel so amazing.

#chad meeks martin #chad meeks martin x reader #chad meeks martin x y/n #chad meeks martin x you #scream 6 #scream #scream fanfic #mason gooding

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a-simple-gaywitch · 1 year

Text

Amidst the Chaos

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Spencer and (Y/N) didn't get along, and it annoyed the whole BAU. But when a traumatized (Y/N) shows up at Spencer's apartment late one night, their whole relationship shifts

Warnings: PTSD, trauma, references to torture, other canon-typical topics

Word Count: 3827

Author’s Note: not necessarily my best fic, but i’ve been working on it for over a year so... here it is

Orpheus - Sara Bareilles

AO3 Link

“Don't stop trying to find me here amidst the chaos. Though I know it's blinding, there's a way out.” ~ Sara Bareilles, Orpheus

“Guys, I want you to meet our newest team member,” Hotch said to the BAU as they settled around the table. “This is Agent (Y/N) (L/N).”

You gave a shy wave to the group in front of you, but your smile was bright enough to light up the entire room. “Hi.”

“She’s coming to us from Organized Crime. I trust that you’ll all welcome her to the team.”

“Honestly, I’m just happy to be given a chance to work with all of you. It’s been my dream to work at the BAU for years.”

“We’ll have time to get to know Agent (L/N) better on the plane. But for now, we have a case,” Hotch said. “JJ?”

“So,” Derek said, taking a seat next to you on the jet. “What was Organized Crime like?”

“Honestly? Boring as all hell. It was mostly stopping money laundering and drug cartels,” you said. “Not as glamorous as Goodfellas makes it seem. Besides, the BAU was always my end goal anyway.”

He chuckled a bit. “Yeah, I get that. We’re glad to have you on our team. ” The conversation between you and Morgan flowed easily and before you knew it, you had become like brother and sister. The rest of the team grew to love you too. Well, most of the team.

Spencer seemed icy and cold toward you, and no one could offer a valid explanation. By all accounts, you should have gotten along. You loved Halloween just as much as Spencer did and you always had at least 3 books on your person at a time. You had a borderline unhealthy addiction to caffeine and sugar and spent more time in the office than your apartment. But for some reason, you and Spencer just seemed to constantly be at each other’s throats.

In your defense, Reid had started it.

For whatever reason, Reid disliked you right out the gate. He tried to be civil toward you, but something about you just bothered him.

He originally just tried to avoid you when he could, but with the nature of the team’s dynamic, that didn’t work out well.

Spencer found himself doing small, petty things to annoy you, like putting your favorite mug on the top shelf where you couldn’t reach it or borrowing your pens and “forgetting” to return them. Something about seeing you mildly inconvenienced and annoyed as opposed to your normally happy and bubbly self made him feel better. He knew it was fucked up of him.

Eventually, the animosity became mutual. You and Spencer were rarely paired together on cases because Hotch couldn’t stand the constant arguing between the two of you. Mostly, Hotch tended to pair you with Derek who you began to see as a brother.

Spencer would never admit it, but seeing you and Derek be as close as you were stirred some kind of jealousy in him. He figured it was just because he had been friends with Morgan first, that was all.

Local cases were always extra stressful on the team. Something about unsubs being so close to home made the cases more personal. As such, tensions were running high and no one had slept in over 24 hours as the team worked to nail down a profile.

“This doesn’t make sense,” you muttered as you looked over the crime scene photos. “The crime profiles as disorganized but the victimology and timeline profile him as organized.”

“How you doing there, Pretty Girl?” Morgan asked, setting down a carrier of coffee cups.

You sighed and picked up the cup with your name scrawled on it. “There’s discrepancies in our preliminary profile and I can’t…”

“Did you try comparing notes with Reid?”

“Derek, I love you, but are you insane?”

“I’m serious, (Y/N).”

“So am I. Any time I try to have any kind of civilized conversation with that man he turns it into an argument.”

Thankfully, Hotch came into the room at that point, stopping the conversation. “We have two potential leads. Morgan, you’re going with Blake to the first address. (L/N), you and Reid are going to the second.” Hotch tossed you both keys for SUVs. “Reid and Blake have the files. They’ll fill you in on the drive.”

“Yes, sir.” You grabbed your coffee from the table, along with Reid’s, and headed out to the car. When you got to the parking lot, Reid was already leaning against the car, flipping through a file folder. “Reid. Here.”

As you handed him the coffee, he said, “What, was everyone else busy?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. I’m just following Hotch’s orders.” You unlocked the car and climbed in. “Where are we going?”

“21 Rock Creek Road, Somerset. We’re interviewing Linda Walsh, the neighbor of our first victim, Savanna Curtis.”

“Great. Can you type it into the GPS?”

“Why? I can just give you the directions.”

“Because the GPS is more accurate.”

“(L/N), I have an eidetic memor-”

“Eidetic memory, I know. But you’re telling me your memory can predict traffic patterns? I don’t think so. Just use the damn GPS.”

“Fine.” Spencer typed the address in, muttering under his breath.

“Thank you. What information do we have on Walsh?”

“72 years old, she was reportedly in the house when Curtis was attacked and taken to the secondary location. Hotch wants us to interview her and see if she noticed anything that might help us with the profile.”

Soon enough, the two of you pulled up to the witness’s house. Before even getting out of the car, you felt like something was wrong.

”Wait, Reid.” You grabbed his arm as he reached for the door handle. “Something about this doesn’t feel right.”

“What do you mean?”

“Look at the windows. All of them are dark. Not even a television glow. Something’s off.”

“I hate to say it, but you’re right.”

You hopped out of the car and pulled your gun from your side, following Reid up the path to the house. He knocked on the front door.

“I don’t hear anything from inside.” He knocked again. “Go around the back, see if you can get in that way.”

You nodded and walked around the house. You could hear Reid continuing to knock as you went around. As you rounded the corner, a sharp pain entered your shoulder. You yelled and turned around, but not before a blunt object hit you in the temple and your vision faded.

Spencer was panicking. You were missing, and it was his fault. He was pacing in the front yard of Walsh’s home while the team and the local authorities worked to catch up.

“Reid, what happened?” Hotch asked. “We need everything.”

Spencer relayed every detail from the moment the two of you pulled up to the house, still pacing. “I shouldn’t have told her to go off on her own, it’s my fault-”

“Kid, breathe,” Morgan told him. “You didn’t know this would happen. What’s important now is finding her and bringing her home safe.”

The team did a thorough inspection on Mrs. Walsh’s home and learned a good deal. Mrs. Walsh wasn’t home, as was reported. However, her son, Devin, was clearly staying with her. It didn’t take the team long to figure out he was the unsub.

When you awoke, you were in a secondary location. Your head was throbbing behind your eyes and your shoulder was in agony. Your arms were tied behind your back, but that was the only restraint to your mobility. You looked around, trying to figure out where you were. It was a large, open space, you guessed a warehouse, probably abandoned. It was dark, except for the glow of the streetlights outside and an industrial lamp in the center of the room. You didn’t have much time to assess your surroundings, though, because Walsh was waiting for you to wake up.

You knew the facts of the case. You saw the photos. He kept the women for 24 hours, torturing them until their bodies were barely recognizable. Then, he’d kill and dump them.

But you also knew your team. They were relentless. And they would save you.

“We’ve seen what he does to his victims. We’re in a race against the clock here,” Morgan argued with Hotch.

“But we still have to keep our heads and follow the law. If we don’t get a warrant, any evidence we do find goes right out the window.”

“Guys, Garcia found something,” JJ said. She put her phone on speaker. “Go ahead, Garcia.”

“So, Walsh’s dear old dad was the owner of a warehouse in the 80s. The warehouse is still in his name but has since been abandoned. And before you even ask, yes, I sent you the address.”

The SUVs pulled up to the warehouse and the team jumped out. The plan was to enter the building slow and quiet, but that changed when they heard you scream, followed by a gunshot. Then, everything went silent. Completely silent.

Everyone rushed into the building. The team was terrified of what they were about to find. What they saw, no one could have expected.

You were lying unconscious on the floor, in a pool of blood. Also on the floor, with a bullet hole through his forehead, was Devin Walsh. Standing with a gun in her hands was 72 year old Linda Walsh, tears running down her face.

“I had to,” she said, looking at Hotch. “He was gonna kill her.”

“We need a medic!”

The team was sitting around your hospital bed. The doctor had said you probably wouldn’t wake up for a while, but they were determined to have someone there with you when you did.

“We should take shifts,” JJ suggested. “That way there’s always someone here and the rest of us can get some rest, too.”

“That’s a good idea. Dave and I can take the first shift,” Hotch said. “We’ll do four-hour rotations in pairs.”

They talked through who would pair up and take what rotations before Rossi shooed the rest of the team out.

Eventually, Reid and Morgan were on their “shift.” Morgan glanced over at Reid, who was staring at the same page of a book.

“You ever gonna flip that page?”

“What if she doesn’t wake up?”

“Kid, you heard the doctor. She will.”

“But what if she doesn’t? It would be my fault. I’m the one who made her go off by herself. We were supposed to be a team and I couldn’t see past-” He cut himself off, shaking his head.

“Hey,” Morgan put his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “it’ll be okay, Reid. I’m gonna go grab a coffee. Want one?”

“Sure.” After Morgan left, Spencer looked at you and sighed. Your body was wrapped in casts and bandages. “Hey, (L/N),” he said, reaching out and resting his hand on top of yours.

One thing you didn’t expect about being in a medically induced coma was to still hear everything going on around you. You could hear the doctors and nurses moving about your room. You could hear your teammates. You heard Hotch and Rossi talking about the paperwork they’d have to file on the case because an agent had been seriously injured. You heard the music Penelope insisted on playing, and you heard Spencer.

“Hey, (L/N),” you heard him say. “I don’t know if you can hear me but,” he took a deep breath, “I’m sorry. Not just for this. I mean, obviously for this. I never should have split us up, I never should have sent you around the back of the house, I never should have-” he stopped himself. You could hear the tightness in his voice. Was he crying? No, Reid wouldn’t be crying over you. Would he? But he continued. “I was awful to you. I mean, I was an asshole,” he said with a dry laugh. “There’s no other word for it. I was an asshole to you and there was no excuse. I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I-”

“One cup of sugar with a splash of coffee,” Derek said, coming back into the room.

“Thanks.” Reid took the cup in both his hands, grateful for a distraction from his guilt.

“Any change?”

He shook his head. “None.”

Derek sighed. “You know, part of me was really hoping she’d wake up in the five minutes I was gone.” He gripped your hand that wasn’t casted up. “We miss you, Pretty Girl.”

Your coma lasted for about 3 weeks. The doctors kept you in the hospital for observation for another full week before finally letting you go home.

During your recovery, your apartment was practically a revolving door. Just about the entire team came by to check on you and keep you company, with the exception of Spencer. You couldn’t say you were too surprised. However, something about it upset you. Hell, even Hotch and Rossi took the time to stop by and check on you.

Derek and Penelope were probably your most frequent visitors. You were honestly grateful for their visits, and for the help it brought. With your injuries, simple day-to-day tasks were more difficult for you, and Penelope and Derek were more than happy to help you out. Derek took your grocery list and all your other errands while Penelope helped around your apartment. You were even more grateful when they forced you to attend a dinner party at Rossi’s. Penelope was at your apartment, helping you pick out a dress for the event.

“I don’t know, Pen.”

“(Y/N), I’m telling you, purple is your color.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want my dress to match my bruises.”

Penelope just rolled her eyes and tossed the dress on your bed. “Do you really think I’d pick out a dress that didn’t make you look good? Let’s go, you haven’t had a proper shower in a week.”

Penelope helped you get ready for the dinner party before getting ready herself. She helped adjust the strap of your brace when your doorbell buzzed.

“That’ll be Derek,” you said. Penelope answered the door to Derek standing outside, leaning against your doorframe.

“Well, look at these pretty ladies. You ready to go?”

“Yeah, I need to get out of this house,” you said. “I haven’t seen anything but these walls in weeks.”

When you pulled into Rossi’s driveway, you were more than excited to see the team. The team, in turn, was excited to see you. You were smiling and laughing, more and more of your normal self.

When Spencer saw you walk through Rossi’s front door on your crutches, a lump formed in his throat. Ever since seeing you in the hospital, he’d been wracked with guilt. It was the main reason why he hadn’t visited you like everyone else. He tried to avoid you the whole night. Thankfully, you were so happy to be with the others that you didn’t seem to notice. But Blake did.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” she asked Spencer, handing him a drink.

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re avoiding everyone tonight. Why?” When Spencer stayed silent, Blake followed his line of sight. He was watching you talking with JJ. “Ah. Why don’t you go talk to her?”

“I can’t, Alex. Believe me, I’ve tried. For months. Any time I try and have just a normal goddamn conversation with her, what comes out is sarcastic and cruel. I-I don’t know why it happens.” He ran his hands over his face and groaned.

“You’re in love with her.” Blake wasn’t saying it as a question. Seeing the panic in his eyes, she said, “Don’t worry, it’ll stay with me.”

The heavy sheets of rain outside pounded against the apartment windows. It was the kind of cold rain that seeped into your bones, despite a warm home. It was late, but Spencer was still awake, reading. He couldn’t sleep, which wasn’t unusual for him. He heard a knock on his door. Spencer set his book down on his coffee table before walking to his door. He glanced out the peephole and took a step back in shock. Spencer opened the door to see you standing there, soaked and visibly shivering, in only your pajamas. Your eyes were bloodshot and you were sniffling.

“(L/N)? What are you-”

“I’m sorry. I know you probably don’t want me here and I don’t even know how I ended up here, I just started walking and-”

“Wait, wait, you walked here? In the torrential downpour?” When you nodded, Spencer opened his door wider. “Here, come in. You must be freezing. What happened?”

You stepped through his door and began to ramble, “I don’t know. I woke up from a nightmare and I knew I-I couldn’t stay in my apartment alone so I just started walking and somehow I ended up here and I’m sorry.” Your teeth were chattering as you continued to shiver.

Spencer grabbed a blanket off the back of his couch and draped it around you. “No, no, it’s, um-” Spencer cleared his throat. “Do you want to talk about it? I’ve found that sometimes just saying it out loud helps.”

Once you nodded, Spencer held his hand out and led you over to his couch. You were silent for a few moments, staring out the window at the rain streaming down.

“I was back… there,” you said when you finally started talking. “In the dark. I-I couldn’t see anything but I knew he was there. Then I felt his hands on my throat and-” You cut yourself off, shaking your head. Your whole body was shivering, but Spencer didn’t think it was from the cold anymore.

Spencer moved to put his arm around you but stopped, dropping his arm back to his side. “I know how you feel,” he said. “After Hankle, I couldn’t handle looking at the crime scene photos because I knew what the victims were thinking right… you know… right before.”

“Do they ever stop? The nightmares?”

“I don’t know. Mine haven’t.” When he saw the defeat on your face, he added, “But it does get easier.”

You nodded, still staring out at the pouring rain. You cleared your throat. “Well, uh, I’ll, um, I’ll call a taxi and get out of your hair.”

“You don’t- uh, you can stay, um, if-if you want,” Spencer said.

“Reid, I don’t want to impose-”

“You wouldn’t be!” Spencer assured you. “I could use the company, actually. I’ve been trying to find someone to watch Stardust with me. Penelope says I need to watch more pop culture and I know you’re a fan of Neil Gaiman.” He gave you a soft smile. “Please, (Y/N), stay. I promise, you’re not imposing.”

When he saw your face crack into a small smile, he felt a swarm of butterflies rise in his stomach. “Okay,” you said.

About halfway through the movie, Spencer felt you slump against his shoulder. Before he knew it, you were fast asleep. He was frozen there, not wanting to disturb you. He knew how rough the past few months had been, and it was obvious to everyone you weren’t sleeping. Maybe it was the guilt, maybe it was more, but Spencer felt like it was now his responsibility to take care of you, if you would let him.

The whole team noticed the shift between you and Reid. Where you would previously stay as far from each other as possible, you were now actively seeking each other out. You chose to sit next to each other in the briefing room and on the jet, something you had never done before. On the trips back from cases, you would rest your head on Reid’s shoulder and sleep while he read a book. But, no one said anything about any of it. No one wanted to burst whatever weird bubble was surrounding the BAU team.

That was, until Blake, Derek, and JJ spotted you knocking on Spencer’s motel door one night during a case. The two were sitting up in the lounge going over the case files yet again when they spotted you, in your pajamas, sneaking out of your own room.

After watching you slip into Spencer’s room, JJ said, “You don’t think they’re…”

“Reid and (L/N)? No, there’s no way. They can’t stand each other.”

“Well, they do say there’s a thin line between love and hate,” Alex noted, turning the page in her book.

“I don’t know about you two, but I need to know what’s going on,” Derek said, getting up from the couch.

“I’m coming with you!”

“Guys, I really don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex warned. “Just talk to them about it in the morning.”

“Do you know something, Alex?” JJ asked.

“Even if I did know something, it wouldn’t be my place to tell you.”

The next morning, you felt eyes on you as you drank your coffee. You looked up from the case file to see Derek staring at you.

“What?”

“Were you going to tell me about you and Reid or…”

“What are you talking about? Me and Reid?”

“(Y/N), come on. You two are practically attached at the hip when just two weeks ago you couldn’t fucking stand each other.”

You shrugged. “We worked out our differences, I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Alright, what about you sneaking off to his room last night?”

Your face paled. “It’s not what it looked like.”

“Care to explain then?”

You sighed, looking around to make sure it was just you and Morgan. “You know I haven’t been sleeping since, well, everything.” Derek nodded. “Well, a few nights ago I ended up at Reid’s apartment in a panic. It was pouring out so he let me just stay and I slept better than I had in years. And, you know, he’s not too bad to hang out with either,” your face flushed with your last statement.

“You’re not too bad to hang out with either.”

You jumped, turning around to see Spencer in the doorway with cups of (good) coffee in his arms.

“Spencer, when did-”

He handed you a frappuccino. “Just now. I take it you weren’t as sneaky as you thought?”

“Shut up,” you whined, nudging him with your arm as you stuck a straw in your drink. Spencer just laughed and took a seat next to you.

“So, you’re just, like, friends now?”

You and Spencer looked at each other, seemingly having a conversation without speaking.

“I mean, I’d say we’re a bit more than just friends,” you admitted, smiling at Spencer. He kissed the top of your head.

“Damn, I owe JJ 10 bucks,” Derek muttered before saying, “But seriously, I’m happy for you two. It’s about time you realized you were perfect for each other.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #bau x reader #em's fics

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linderosse · 5 months

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Hi! I love your art and your Wisdom AU. I have a question about it. Are you still keeping Legend and Fable siblings after Jojo said they weren’t related in the Q and A, or are you sticking with Linked Universe canon?

Thank you!!! Glad you like it!

Hm, I haven’t seen this Q&A! Can I get a link to it? :)

The reason some Zelda fans believe ALttP Link and Zelda are related is this:

Those are the dying words of Link’s uncle. Some English fans (Edit: choose to)(Edit: nowadays) believe the end of this sentence was supposed to be “sister,” since nothing else really fits (I’ve heard “soulmate” (Edit: or “destiny”) as an option, but it seems strange for Link’s uncle to be telling him who he’s supposed to end up with). Thus the headcanon of ALttP Link and Zelda being siblings.

The Japanese text is even more ambiguous, since it reads something along the lines of “You are the princess’s…” This means the line was probably meant to say something like “You are the princess’ only hope.” Unfortunately, this version doesn’t seem to work as well with the English translation, while the “sister” line still works with the Japanese text. The intention is different from the way some fans choose to interpret it. :)

To complicate matters further, the remake (2003) removed the line from that scene, although the line is still present elsewhere in the game— Blind the Bandit disguises himself as Link’s dying uncle and repeats the same lines, and he says the original phrase (Edit: ending with, “You are the princess’…”). The devs are definitely aware of the original line. (Edit: And they’ve fixed the translation, lol.)

So there’s the background info!

Now, on to the main part: regarding following LU canon. The truth is: I am already changing a few things from Linked Universe, the most important of which are these:

Legend and Fable are siblings

Tetra and Wind are not Phantom and Spirit

Shadow and the Four Swords manga are canon

Time and Wind (and other relevant characters) remember Hyrule Warriors

Why am I making these changes for my AU?

Discussed above!

I’m much more of a Spirit Tracks fan than Jojo seems to be :). And when considering the Zeldas, Phantom is markedly different from Tetra in both personality and skills. I’m sticking to LoZ canon over LU canon here. Phantom deserves to be her own character!

I’ve been a fan of the FSA manga for a decade and a half now, so it has long affected the way I see the Zelda series. I also love Shadow and Four’s history— it adds a unique twist to the classic Zelda formula. Shadow is therefore canon in Wielders of Wisdom and the parallel LU story, The Secrets We Keep. Expect Shadow’s backstory to play a role somewhere in the combined Wisdomverse :)

I’m new to the Hyrule Warriors fandom, but I love the connection it gives Warriors with Time and Wind— and other characters :). This is also going to be addressed in The Secrets We Keep. Check that out for more info!

Many of you who write/read fanfics for LU have seen these ideas before. Interpreting canon in different ways has always been an integral part of the Zelda fandom, because canon is itself can be contradictory. That’s one of the things that makes this fandom so fun <3.

And the most important thing is that these changes fit the story I want to tell better.

I’m going to do my best to stick to LU whenever possible, but I want to tell a fun, engaging story, and sometimes that will mean taking a different path: sometimes following LoZ canon more closely, sometimes interpreting things my own way :).

So, to answer your question: I will probably be keeping Legend and Fable as siblings. It’s a popular headcanon among fans. I believe the story I’m telling for Fable works better with other romantic interests for Legend. And I want to stress that he and Fable are just as fiercely loyal to each other.

That said, I definitely don’t mind if you believe differently! I don’t really emphasize romance anyways, and I’m not here to police the fandom. Please feel free to read the references to Legend calling Fable “sister” as friendship, or just ignore it, or whatever you wish! I don’t mind who you ship with who.

Only preference is: please don’t ship the Wielders with each other, since they’re canonically related by blood and spirit :). Other than that, anything goes as far as I’m concerned.

Anyways. This got really long, didn’t it?

I wanted to answer the question as thoroughly as I could. Please feel free to ask more questions, or stop by my quiet little art streams and ask me live if you want an immediate answer! I will always do my best to respond :)

You can find all previous responses under the tag: #lin responds !

#lin responds #wielders of wisdom #linked universe #the secrets we keep #lu wielders of wisdom #lu the secrets we keep #lu fable #lu legend #lu tetra #lu wind #lu spirit #lu phantom #lu wow

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canonicallyobserving911 · 1 month

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Buck & Eddie: Two emergencies in 7x1 illustrated Buck hasn’t dealt with his death

It appears the first call with the older onery couple and the second call with the burned car relate to Buck’s death and they seem to illustrate how he’s not over it yet.

These are my OBSERVATIONS and INTERPRETATIONS of two scenes included in 7x1 and other people’s may differ since everyone consumes and interprets media differently.

Now back to the regularly scheduled program…

Before I delve into this, I have to mention that I don’t think Buck’s over his death yet. Does he want to be? Yes but the fact is he hasn’t dealt with it and the first two emergencies in 7x1 alluded to it.

For those who read my post about my frustrations surrounding the fact that TM (showrunner) said Buck was tired of talking about death and he just wants to be happy (linked here), I’ve elaborated on why I believe he hasn’t dealt with it yet in this post. I found two things in the first episode of season 7 that seems to prove my theory associated with the way TM might be saving Buck dealing with the fact that he ACTUALLY DIED in season 6 until after 7x6 airs since that’s Maddie’s wedding and the Buckley parents are scheduled to return.

I live blogged during last week’s episode but while doing so, I noticed so many things that I wanted to expound on but I wanted to analyze them first to see how they connected to previous seasons and episodes. I watched the episode three more times for multiple reasons but mainly because I wanted to make sure I understood all the callbacks, hindsight, metaphors and foreshadowing. This post will not include everything I found because it’s a lot but I will do several posts to cover the others.

While Buck and Eddie were in the locker room talking, Buck said all ND wanted to talk about was his death, it got boring after a while and he didn’t know why he thought dating a dEaTh DoUlA was a good idea. Eddie responded, “Well you had just died” but then he said something else that caused me to pause because it was JARRING. He said, “Welcome back to the land of the living Buck, you were missed” (more on this topic below).

Be clear, I’M GLAD SHE’S GONE AND I WISH THE SHOW WOULDN’T HAVE SHOVED THEM INTO A RELATIONSHIP. If she would have helped Buck with the fact that he died like she was supposed to then all that screen time spent on whatever they had in season 6 could have been used to SHOW how he arrived at a point of just wanting to be happy at the beginning of season 7 but the audience didn’t get that. The truth is, if he wasn’t opening up and talking about it (it’s likely he wasn’t since he’s not in therapy) then of course it got boring for him because he was doing what he always does, avoiding dealing with his own issues by trying to fix everyone else’s. Reminder, he’s the guy who likes to fix things except for when it’s his own problems. He avoids them the same way he avoided moving on from AC in season 2 which equates to the way he avoided talking to TK for a week so he wouldn’t have to break up with her at the end of season 5.

Also, Buck hides his true feelings and he said so in 4x2 when he was in a FaceTime therapy session with Dr. Copeland. He said, “How I hide my true feelings from others”. Additionally, in 6x15, he told Eddie, “The truth is I am different. But I feel like I have to be the same old Buck, mostly for the sake of everyone else.” These two statements he made along with the way he avoids things further substantiates the fact that Buck is hiding the way he really feels about his death and he’s pretending to be happy.

IMO, the first and second emergencies in 7x1 the 118 was dispatched to appeared to show where Buck is mentally. I’ll start with the chair and the car metaphors in this post because they’re the ones I couldn't forget when I watched live. After my initial viewing, I kept wondering why the man in the first call was not only sitting in a reclining chair but he was ALSO TRAPPED IN IT. Additionally, I couldn’t get over the fact that Buck and Eddie were the only two on the scene of the second call with that burned car. Not only was the car destroyed from the inside out; it was the question the owner of the car asked Buck that I couldn’t forget. The chair and the car are the two items I’ll expound on in this post to illustrate how they relate to Buck’s death and I’ll include my opinion to explain how they might relate to what could possibly happen with him before the end of the season.

Call #1

Do these two GIFs look familiar?

They should because Buck and Abe are both sitting in arm chairs that are suited for only one person and they mirror the way Buck’s life could end up if he lives it the way other people want him to instead of him living it the way he wants to. The darker color in the suede of Abe's chair is similar to the color of Buck's leather chair. Also, Abe's chair is outdated but he still uses it so he doesn't have to deal with Edna.

In 7x1, Abe just wanted to be at EASE with his life while sitting and relaxing in his chair but his wife wouldn’t let him. He was trying to watch TV but she kept knit picking at everything he was doing. She was doing the whole “pay attention to me or else I’ll force you to do it and make your life a living hell while I'm at it” dynamic and it was annoying AF. They had been married for more than 30 years and they never had any kids but they were also miserable. They hated each other and it appears they were in a marriage neither of them wanted to be in. After the 118 arrived, Edna said, “He loves that chair more than the loves me”.

Furthermore, they had a couch in their home but it was just sitting there which means ABE REFUSED TO SIT ON IT WITH HER. He told Chimney the fighter jet should have put one of them out of their misery.

Was the depiction of their relationship reminiscent of one from season 5? YES!

In 6x1, Bobby told Buck he needed to take inventory of his life so he could be at EASE and when he did, he sat in his chair but at the time, since he had already given TK the boot, he didn’t have to worry about her doing to him what Edna spent 30 years doing to Abe. If Buck would have kept on clinging to TK, then that could have been his fate. TK was shallow and wanted all the attention on herself the same way Edna did and she proved it with her raggedy and immoral journalistic behaviors. She had planned to throw the 118 under the bus in 2x6 but she didn’t get the chance to do it then since the LAFD’s lawyers were more powerful than her news station’s lawyers. However, she jumped at the opportunity to do it a second time in season 5 when she didn’t have anyone to stop her.

Abe’s relationship with Edna gave the audience a future flash forward of where Buck could end up if he follows what some GA viewers want him to do. Before he died, in 6x2, Lev told him his life went by in a blur and it was the reason he went to the happiness convention with his friends. Abe chose the life he felt like he was expected to live with a wife and a house too but based on the way he was acting; it clearly wasn’t something he would have chosen for himself. And he was so far from being at ease that he was miserable.

Additionally, Edna was a combination of every woman Buck’s ever dated. She was older and had red hair which coincides with AC. She didn’t care about what Abe was doing because she wanted him to do what she wanted which coincides with TK and also, she had red hair. She was frustrated with him and what he was doing which correlates her to AM, reminder she didn’t like Buck’s job which is the reason why she left him with a cast on his leg after the ladder truck explosion. Finally, ND was fascinated by Buck’s death the same way Edna was fascinated by the fact that Abe might not be ok. She cared more about the chair being out of her house than she did about his well-being. Their lives were miserable but instead of ending their relationship, they clung to each other just like Buck and TK did in season 5.

IMO, the couple represented the life Buck would have if he follows the path some people in the GA want him to. Believe it or not, there are still viewers who want everyone to do things the way they did them, i.e., get married, have a house, have kids and work a job until they die and instead of wanting Buck and Eddie to experience the true love they clearly share to flourish and grow, for WhAtEvEr ReAsOnS, they’d rather they stay in relationships with the women who wronged, abandoned and ignored them. It appears they're choosing not to see how much they love each other and they would prefer them to “stick it out” in relationships with people who clearly make them miserable.

Reminder, in 6x15, Buck told Eddie, “I still don't know how to act. I am different but I feel like I have to be the same old Buck, mostly for the sake of everyone else” and I’ve always believed he was saying that directly to the audience. It was aimed at the women who wanted him to keep waiting around for AC or those who wanted him to stay with AM because she had an adult conversation with him before she dipped. Then there are those who wanted him to stay with TK because she was career driven (that’s a bunch of BS because journalists can be driven in their careers without being immoral, vindictive, callous or using people to get popular by writing a crappy book) and then there are those who wanted Buck to stay with ND (I know this may be hard to believe but there are posts that indicate “he knew what he was getting into when he dated her” 🙄). Like seriously, they wanted him to stay with her because in their minds, she was perfect for him but haven’t all his girlfriend’s stans said that? They have and the question they should ask themselves is, why haven’t any of Buck’s relationships worked (related post linked here and here) instead of acting like the women who treated him poorly deserved to stick around. Also, Buck’s a ticking time bomb waiting to explode the same way that dummy bomb would have if it had gone off. However, just like on the call, Eddie’s going to be there for Buck but it’s unclear when or if he’ll be able to stop it from happening.

Call #2

The burned car was still smoldering but it was also hollow and charred to the core. IMO, it was included as a call that only Buck and Eddie were allowed to extinguish as a way to illustrate how it’ll take both of them working together to repair Buck’s charred, burned and smoldering insides. Reminder, in 6x10 he was struck by lightning and he died which means he’s probably feeling hollow on the inside and I think he feels all cored out just like that burned car. While they were in the locker room, it appeared he was ready to talk to Eddie about the way he feels which is the reason why he may have invited him to go out so they could be alone and he could speak freely. But he backed off when Eddie mentioned “Big date” and reminder, Buck was the one who assumed Eddie had a date with M (more on this below) but Eddie was talking about Chris' date.

After Eddie left, the audience didn’t see Buck leave so apparently, he went somewhere but who knows where since he wasn’t shown again until the next time they were at work. If they had gone together, it would have been a date but IIRC, other than the poker date in 6x13, every time Buck and Eddie hung out in the past, they were at Buck's loft or at Eddie’s house. Additionally, Eddie admitted he’s a nester which means he’s ok with them staying in like they did when they played video games and drank beer in the past. The one time they went to a bar together in 3x11 doesn’t count as a date because the rest of the 118 was there with Albert. I think Buck was extending an olive branch and trying to let Eddie know he needed him the same way Eddie tried to let Buck know he needed him before his breakdown in season 5 but when he finally broke, Chris called Buck and he came running. I’ve always wondered how it will play out if Buck breaks down while he’s alone in the loft and I have an idea of how it will happen but I haven’t decided if I’ll post it on here.

When they were done, the car owner asked, “Is it a total loss or is…?” and Buck responded, “Uh… not total.” then he smiled, held up a pine tree fragranced car freshener, which is symbolic of an actual family tree because of the ROOTS, then said, “Have a good day”. Buck’s biological family roots are about to come into question AGAIN (related post about the Buckley parents other deep dark family secret linked here) and guess what? When they do, it’s going to rock him to his CORE and the only person who’ll be able to help him is EDDIE! Buck’s not a total loss as the phrasing in the scene alluded to and Eddie KNOWS that! However, Buck will need for Eddie to tell him that over and over again until he starts to believe it.

I think the confrontation OS mentioned that’s supposed to occur between Buck and Eddie will be in relation to Buck’s self-worth and how he views himself. There are a lot of people who want to move on from the fact that Buck died and rightfully so since he along with the viewers had to endure an entire season of him not dealing with his issues. But the truth is 9-1-1 hasn’t moved on from it either and even though TM said Buck’s ready to find happiness, the fact still remains that Buck hasn’t dealt with the reality of his own death.

IMO, he will find happiness when he’s in a relationship with Eddie and reminder, Eddie’s the one who’s always trying to encourage him. He did it in 7x1 too after Buck said, “You don’t want him to end up like me” but Eddie was quick to respond, “You didn’t end up like you”. It was soft, pure and so full of love that it took Buck’s breath away.

Now be honest, would AC, AM, TK or ND have said that to him? The answer NO!

I stand by the things I included in a previous post because Connor and Kameron are supposed to return some time around or after 7x5 and that’s when I believe the proverbial $hit regarding Buck’s self-worth will hit the fan since it’s likely they’ll have some devastating news for him about the baby. Then the Buckley parents are set to return for Maddie’s wedding and nothing good ever happens to Buck when they do so it's looking like a trifecta of bad news for Buck (related post linked here).

Other than the time he spent talking to Chris at Eddie’s house, Buck was only shown at work during the entire episode and I believe that was on purpose. It’s unclear when he’ll be shown in the loft again but when he is, that could be when the audience sees he’s not doing as well as he’s trying to get people to believe. It’s likely the way he really feels about the fact that he died will be shown and if he feels like that burned car… it’s not going to be pretty or pleasant.

Eddie KNOWS Buck’s not doing well but he’s not going to push him to talk just like he didn’t in 6x12. He’s going to wait until Buck’s ready then, he’ll have the heart-to-heart talk with him the same way he always does. Reminder, Eddie takes care of Buck (post linked here) while Buck listens to Eddie and makes him talk (post linked here). In 7x1, Eddie said, “Welcome back to the land of the living Buck. You were missed” and I kept wondering why he phrased it like that but then I realized it’s because he knows Buck hasn’t confronted the fact that he died but he’s not going to push him, he’ll wait until he says he’s ready then Eddie will be there to take care of him like he always is.

Make no mistake, Buck’s happiness is with Eddie but he thinks he’s off limits since he’s “dating” M (please understand I don’t think Eddie and M are "seriously dating" and that's based on RG's responses about the character of M in his interviews. I’ll do a separate post on it explaining how the show and the actors have explained it in so many words).

TM used two BOLD contrasts in the first episode, a chair and a car, to show Buck has to deal with his death and it’s likely he'll continue to include these types of metaphors until he does. Also, TM's comment about Buck being tired of talking about dying seems to be a bait and switch and he's trying to get viewers to look away from Buck’s death so they’ll forget he’s been hiding it, then they’ll be blindsided by it when he finally breaks. Reminder, after the Madney wedding, there will still be 4 episodes left in the season and what exactly will TM fill them with🧐?

Will Buck finally deal with the fact that he died this season since he didn't in season 6? Who knows but based on the chair and the car, it appears his process of dealing with it has just begun.

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #the buckley diaz family #buckley diaz family #911 on abc #911 abc #911 meta #911 spoilers #911 speculation #911 season 7 #911 season 7 speculation #oliver stark #ryan guzman #anti natalia dollenmeyer #anti bucktalia #anti taylor kelly #anti bucktaylor

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fanofstuff02 · 24 days

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HERE I AM! Here I am with a little writing of mine!

Before we get started, this AU belongs to @woah-why-i-am-here and they have pretty cool drawings about it. GO CHECK IT OUT!

Considering the show itself is 16+, this is aswell, know it then read this, also it has Valentino.

DEAR TUMBLR! PLEASE DONT TAKE THIS DOWN!

A little summary: Adam fell to hell, needed money, and Valentino was the only one hired him. He owned his soul, and it was too late when Adam realized what he agreed to work on. He is one of Valentino’s top whores now. And of course, Adam and Angel met, in fact, more than ‘met’. Their films sure sell a lot. They slowly become friends and Angel convinces Adam to come to the hotel. This is after these happened. Also not shipping Angel x Adam.

ENJOY! (Also since you love holydust @rius-cave , tagging you!)

“And cut!” Valentino said proudly, ending the scene. “One hour break and we’re here till 8!”

Adam panted as he tried to collect his mind. He slowly backed away from the fish demon gal, wore his robes back and got up to go to his dressing room. This was the third demon he was on top of that day, and sure enough she was not gonna be the last. Today was gonna suck. Val was planning to work on eight fucking movies, not to mention six of them were gay and two of them were with Angel. He was glad the one-hour break came.

“Addie~” He heard someone behind him and felt that certain ‘someone’ gripping his shoulders.

Valentino. Awesome. Just who he needed.

He attempted to not show the fear and hatred he felt to his face and mask. Too bad the fucking thing was programmed to show every emotion on his face, and sometimes they didn’t even needed to be on his face, him feeling them was enough. Angel had a -probably true- theory about it, he thought that it was ‘connected’ to his brain when he wore it. Adam was already regretting that he put the “I will only work with a mask” in his contract. He didn’t like the idea of showing his face on films, but this was much worse. He couldn’t fucking took it off till his shift ended!

“Yes, Val?” He asked, trying to avoid the movements he was doing to his chest. Yes, prick? he corrected himself in his brain.

“You were so, so good in the last one, babe” he chuckled.

“Thank you, Valentino.”

“Go ahead. Rest, baby.” He thought he was gonna leave him, but instead, he leaned in and kissed his cheek, completely disgusting the sinner. He didn’t flinch or resist though, he knew what’d happen if he did. “Oh, I can’t wait to see you and Angie on stage together.” he let out another one of his creepy chuckles and finally let the first man go. Adam almost runned to his dressing room, closed the door behind him and threw himself on the couch.

“Fuuck.” He groaned and tried to grab his wine bottle without getting up.

“Adam?” A familiar voice came from outside.

“Door isn’t locked!” He yelled.

“Hey, dickmaster.” A pink spider demon came inside and sat down beside him, tilted his head back and watched as the demon managed to grab the bottle and drank it without standing up, like his life depended on it.

“Y’know you can choke yourself doin’ that, right?”

“Meh, who the fuck cares.” He get up dazedly and looked inside the bottle with one of his eyes.

“I don’t recommend dying on work hours, Val punishes the ones who do.”

“Unholy shit, that actually happened?!” Adam asked, his pupil-les eyes went wide.

“I saw three accidents.” Angel shrugged. “Any left for me?”

“Sorry, I guess that bitch camera guy sneaked up here again and stole my stash.”

“It’s fine. Wanna eat your food? We’re gonna need energy.” Angel asked and took out two containers out of his bag. “I made lasagna yesterday.”

“Oh, you bet I do then.” He smirked and took his own. Angel knew the best ways to make it.

They chatted together until their break ended.

“Adam! Get your ass here or there will be consequences!” A little window appeared in Adam’s mask, almost like a pop-up ad. It was their costume designer. “And bring Angel with you!”

“Fine, fine! Ugh.” He groaned, swiped the page to make it dissapear and get up. “Who’s idea was putting this shit on this again?” He mumbled to himself. “Let’s go cocksucker, we have another job to do.”

HOW IS IT!?

By the way, Adam’s mask in this is practically based on his original mask, a Voxtech product just for Adam. Like Vox’s screen, it’s like a screen-face.

I’ll continue this

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin angel dust #hazbin adam #holydust #I worked so hard on this #hazbin hotel valentino #hazbin valentino

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inmyheadimobsessed · 1 year

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Feels So Good Getting What I Want

pairing: shuri ✘ black!fem!reader

summary: you've returned home for the first time in months with news, and for the first time with shuri. you're admittedly nervous, and she's there for moral support, but shuri has a keen way of getting what she wants that may make relaying said news to your parents a tad bit harder.

word count: 6.3k

contains: smut (18+), slight thigh riding, oral (shuri receiving), strap!reader, sub!shuri, softdom!reader, praise!kink, multiple orgasms, needy!shuri, tribbing, aftercare (shuri receiving), coming out scene, fluff

tags: @verachii @szalipcombo @rxcently @coolestgay @widowmakker @fetchyourlife @blackgcomica @shurisbbymama @bestfriend491 @simp4iwaizumi @mocha-aya @shinsousliya @bratydoll @shuriswifereal @shuriri4life @shuris-whore @letitias-fav @axailslink @chidinma @awarm-sundaynight

divider by: @firefly-graphics

note: soooooo this completely got away from me! this was not the initial fic i was going to post, but i was dying to write sub!shuri smut so here we are. i did tear up just a tad writing this. i am unable to write smut without a fluffy ending idk, i’m not well mentally. shuri deserves to be serviced. shouts out to oomf for the translations. please enjoy <333

translations: wamkelekile kokwenu mtanam - welcome to your home my child, ndinikhumbhulile mama noTata - i missed you mom and dad, cela - please, sthandwa - my love

You smoothed your clammy hands down your sides as you stepped out of the car. Wide brown eyes scanned your childhood home, from the large front door all the way up to the balcony outside your bedroom. Your potted plants looked well taken care of, no doubt your mother’s doing.

Being home rarely came with nerves, seeing your family was not an often occurrence, and you were usually elated to be back. But this time was different, vastly. This time you did not return alone, and this time you returned with news. Your feet were rooted to the ground, refusing to stride up the front steps. You took in the house once again. So many memories wrapped up within those walls.

Growing up, your father instilled the significant role the Mining Tribe played in Wakanda's advancement, he took pride in being a leader in your community, and his pride reflected in you. His teachings were what drew you to Vibranium in the first place, what made you want to study it, and all of its capabilities. Studying science is what drew Shuri to you. She could not resist the presence of another young, gorgeous mind in her lab. Her words.

The images made you smile a bit, reminiscing on the many times your mother had to pry you from his lap in his office. Simpler times. Coming home after many months away unsettled you now though, the idea of speaking to your parents sent your stomach into a frenzy. You were not the same as when you saw them last, instead, you were an improved version of yourself, more confident.

But said confidence seemed to escape you now that you were reaching for it.

“Are you going to stand in that spot like a statue forever?” Shuri's amused tone snuck up behind you, fingers wrapped tightly around both your suitcases.

You huffed a breath. “Maybe if I remain still enough they won't see me.”

“Wamkelekile kokwenu mtanam! My baby!” The door swung open and your mother rushed down the steps.

“Too late.” You rolled your eyes at Shuri's snarky comment.

You were in your mother’s embrace before you knew it. She rocked you from side to side and you returned the hug. Your father emerged soon after, followed by your younger sister.

“Oh, how we’ve missed you, my dear.” You hugged your father, then your sister.

“Ndinikhumbhulile mama noTata. I am glad to be back.”

Shuri stood awkwardly behind you watching you greet your family. She refused to interrupt, and you were sort of relieved she hadn't spoken yet. You had a feeling it was her way of helping you prolong the inevitable.

She caught your sister's eyes then, and they widened like saucers. “Um, why is the Queen here?! You know the Queen?!”

Your parents’ attention shifted to Shuri too and she waved shyly. “Hello.”

“Your Majesty, we were not informed you would be arriving. Our apologies.” Your father tried to bow, but Shuri stopped him.

She moved in closer to you, and realization flashed within your sister's eyes. She smirked with a hum and you narrowed your eyes. Your parents, however, were none the wiser.

“Please, call me Shuri. I am only here as a friend to this one here. I hope it is okay that I stay.”

Your mother nodded. “Well of course, but I am sorry our guest room is not prepared.”

“Oh, I'm sure they would not mind sharing a room. All good friends do it, right?” Your sister pointed her loaded question at you and you huffed.

Your mother’s eyes were back on you, then Shuri. “Is this something you are comfortable with your Majesty?”

“Shuri. And yes, it's more than fine.” They nodded and began ushering everyone inside. Your family filed in ahead of you and Shuri, your feet still refusing to move. A sharp pinch to your butt caused you to yelp. Shuri concealed her laughter, feigning confusion as your family turned to see what was going on.

You waved them off with a lame excuse of stubbing your toe on a rock before shooting her Majesty a glare.

“That's sure to get those feet moving.” She hopped up the steps at lightning speed, both bags in one hand, and was through the door in seconds. You were still getting used to that, her newfound agility. Inhaling a deep breath, you finally moved toward the house and stepped into the foyer. You did miss home, a lot.

You missed the smell of your mother’s cooking, her baking, the strong cinnamon scent that clung to all the furniture. You missed it all terribly, and you were delighted to finally be back.

•••

After getting settled in your old room, you made your way downstairs for the tea your mother prepared, where you found Shuri already engaging with your family as though she'd known them most of her life.

You loved that about her. You loved everything that she was, but her ability to make a home in everyone's hearts with zero effort would always be one of your favorite things. Her laugh echoed through the kitchen as she chatted with your father. Your mother served her cookies and she accepted them graciously, biting into one with an exaggerated moan.

She beamed, despite the recent dark clouds looming over her life, Shuri was the sun — forever shining, forever heating your heart in the way only she could. She emerged from the storm not drenched in rain, but sun-kissed and resilient as ever.

You were staring, and you knew it, but you didn't care. Her smile still gave you butterflies. They fluttered inside you, the warm hibiscus tea only making them more excited as it slithered down to your depths.

“If your goal is to out yourself before you are ready, staring at the Queen like that is a sure way to do it.”

Your sister's voice startled you, and you rolled your eyes at her smug smile. “That is not my goal.”

“Well, I was fooled.” She made herself a cup of tea and stood near you behind the counter. “You could not help yourself, could you? You couldn't have fallen for someone regular, it had to be the Queen of our country. How did you manage to pull off the trick of the century, eh?”

Still as nosy as ever, still as rude. You scoffed and she laughed lightly. “You should mind your business.”

“Have you come here to tell them? Is that why you've come home after nine months?”

You sighed. She would not leave you alone, not until she got her answers, so you decided to bite. “I will tell them when I am ready.”

“Or they will figure it out before you get the chance to, with the way you can't seem to keep your eyes off her. Oh big sister, are you in love, truly?” Her eyes twinkled and you knew her interest was genuine.

A silly question really. Was it possible to exist inside of Shuri's world and not love her? “I am.”

Your sister squealed and pulled you in tight, drawing the attention of your parents and Shuri. The moment her eyes were on you, everyone else in the room ceased to exist. It was only the two of you.

“Bast, the two of you lack self-control. But I find it endearing I suppose.” She skipped off to her room after waving shyly at Shuri, having lost all interest in your conversation.

Your father ushered you over to the living room. “Come come, my baby. The Queen tells us you are now head of the design group at her lab, this is true?”

“Unofficially.”

Shuri shook her head, patting her lap for you to sit, and you almost took the bait, until you remembered where you were. You sat next to her on the couch instead and she blushed before speaking. “Officially. I am unable to frequent the lab as I used to now that I am Queen, so most of my responsibilities will fall to you. I will make the official announcement when we return.”

You wanted to kiss her, but you settled on a simple thank you.

“You know this interest in Vibranium started as a child. Always begging to go to the Great Mound with me every day.”

Your mother nodded in agreement. “This is true. These two were inseparable, thick as thieves. I see all of those late-night teachings have paid off.”

Shuri's grin was wide, prideful as she listened to your mother and father gush about your nerdy ways. You could tell she liked them, and they loved her, and it made you happy.

•••

Shuri shifted restlessly next to you. You were attempting to read a book before bed, but her twists and turns were a serious distraction. She'd been like this for the three nights you two spent at your parent’s house so far, and you knew why, you just chose to promptly ignore it.

Your days were usually fine, your sister and Shuri drew quickly to each other, having bonded over their love of teasing you and that younger sister complex they so clearly had. Nights were different. Shuri grew needy, whiny, and you had to suppress your natural instincts to tend to her.

She huffed a whine, pushing her right hand through her curls. “I cannot take this any longer.”

“Are you hot my darling? I can open a window if that would make you feel better.” Eyes never peeled from your book as you spoke. The irritated groan she gave you made you chuckle, and you turned the page.

“Why haven't you touched me? It's been days, I have never gone this long without your touch. Please, I need it now.”

You placed a warm palm on her shoulder and squeezed. “Touch.”

“That is not what I meant.” Shuri pouted and you grinned to yourself.

You licked your lips, turning another page. “What of those years before you knew me, or my touch? What would you do on those restless nights?”

“If you're suggesting I pleasure myself, I assure you, I will do it. I need friction, and if you're unwilling to provide–”

You looked up from your book finally after hearing her threat, eyes hot and scolding. “Oh? Is that what you are prepared to do, sthandwa? By all means...”

“Only if you keep neglecting me. I just crave your hands all over me. I need you.” Her voice was a whisper, alerting you she wasn't quite bold enough to challenge you in that regard.

“My sweet, you know why it has to be this way. I have yet to speak to my parents, haven't told them about us.”

“Your parents are not infants, I’m sure they have already figured it out. Do you often bring Wakandan royalty home with you on your visits? Do you usually sleep in the same bed with them?”

You sighed, acknowledging she was probably right. You’d noticed the way your mother eyed you in the kitchen when you insisted on making Shuri's breakfast for her. She liked it a certain way, and only you knew how to prepare it. You peeped how she nudged your father as you placed the plate before her, squeezing her fingers and fighting the urge to kiss them, and the tattoos decorating them.

“They believe we are just friends. Nothing else as of right now, and I don't want to risk them finding out we are more when they hear your screams of my name. I have an image to maintain in their minds, you know?”

Shuri sat up near the headboard and turned to face you, gasping dramatically. “I will not apologize for enjoying myself when we are intimate. If I’m loud, it is only because you're doing a fantastic job and I want you to know that. You want to remain innocent in their minds, but we both know you are nothing of the sort.”

“And that is precisely why me touching you right now is a terrible idea.”

“I can be good, I promise. I just need to feel you.” Shuri pried the book from your hands, plopping it on the nightstand before straddling your lap. You were adamant about denying her, but your treacherous body gave in the moment her lips found your neck, melting under the feeling.

She rocked her hips against your thigh and you could already feel how damp her crotch was through her briefs.

“Shuri…” You breathed out when her teeth grazed your nipples through your thin sleep shirt.

“I need you, my love. Please.” Her rhythm of humping your leg was picking up and so were her small cries. The idea of her getting off just by rubbing against you had you soaked. Your hands were still at your sides, and it was growing harder to resist placing them on her hips to guide her.

Shuri threw her head back with a moan and you watched her work in complete adoration. “I'm so wet for you my love, want you to taste me.”

“You can't say things like that, Shuri. My restraint can only last so long.” You moaned lowly with her, your arousal intensifying at the sight of her actions.

“Stop resisting me. Please me.”

You let out a long groan. “My parents are in the other room. I can't–”

“Please? I need you, only you.” Words she knew would drive you up a wall. You pulled her in by her throat, crashing your lips to hers. Shuri giggled into the kiss, knowing she would win, she always did. Wet mouths devoured each other, peppering hot pecks along necks and jawlines.

Your hands gripped her hips, helping her rhythm, steadying her, your lips still on hers.

“Lay back for me my dear.” Shuri followed your instructions in excitement. She always took pride in getting you to do bad things. You hovered above her, connecting your lips sloppily whilst sliding her boxers down.

The second your fingers pressed onto her clit, she screeched. She was wetter than you'd ever felt and you couldn't fight your desire to taste her. “You said you would be good.”

You spoke your words before dipping your two Shuri-coated fingers into your mouth. She watched, eyes wide, nibbling on her bottom lip, as you tasted her.

“I'm sorry. I'm only excited, I will be better.” Shuri pulled her shirt off and spread her legs, inviting you all the way in, and who were you to deny yourself? Overindulging in her was an acquired skill. Your lips met her neck, biting a little, and she whimpered.

“Do that again.” A shameless request, and you obliged, pulling her skin between your teeth. She hissed at the pain, and you smiled into the action. Your tongue licked the indent you made before placing a gentle kiss there.

Moving further down her figure, you pulled her right nipple into your mouth and tweaked the left, then switched, giving them both equal attention. She gasped, too loud for your liking and you glared at her.

“Shuri.” Her name on your lips was scolding enough, and she apologized once again. You returned your mouth to her nipples and she allowed herself soft, short breaths. She was a mess, and you’d barely begun.

You pecked your way down her stomach, nibbling on her abs and she purred. Soft sucks on her waist were sure to leave bruises. Finally, you reached the place where you knew she needed you most. A glorious sight, Shuri's pussy was the prettiest thing, and was high up on your list of favorite things about her.

“Is all of this for me?” You glanced at her glistening folds, running your middle finger through her pool, then back to her eyes and she nodded. You pressed a kiss to her drenched clit before beginning a light suck, wanting to test her promise. All she gave you was a quiet whine and you smiled. Your mouth worked her soft bud and you brought your fingers into the mix, slipping them inside her without effort.

Moaning at the way her heat responded to your touch was an immediate reaction as you ate her out. Her wetness was a taste you could never grow tired of.

The acts of slurping her clit and finger fucking her hole had her thrashing about. “Yes! Yes! Oh, right there!”

It was too much for her, you knew that, but you also needed her to behave. You pulled your fingers from inside her and licked her clit one last time before climbing back up her body. “My love, I do not enjoy being disobeyed.”

“Feels too good.” Her lids were stamped shut as she pulled her nipples.

You rolled your eyes in defeat and stood, sliding your lacy panties down to your ankles before stepping out of them. They were balled inside your fist before you returned to the bed. “Open.”

She did as you asked and you shoved the fabric into her pretty little mouth. “I would advise you to breathe through your nose darling.”

Your hungry lips were back on her cunt again, devouring every inch of her saturated folds. Your tongue darted in and out of her hole and she clenched around it, back spiking off the bed. Shuri’s swollen clit twitched under your pruned thumb and the sloshing only increased. Not once did her moans elevate above a desperate hum.

You were enjoying yourself, reveling in the taste of her juices splashed all over your face. You lapped every drop up and she wiggled, grinding harder into your mouth and tongue.

Three fingers pumped her and Shuri shot up instantly. She peered down at you between her thighs through hooded eyes as you fucked and sucked her, nodding her head in approval. She looked so sexy with your panties sticking out her mouth, chest heaving, and covered in sweat. It was nearly enough to send you all the way over untouched.

“Am I the only person to ever make you feel this good, my Queen?”

Her fingers locked in your tight coils, guiding your head up and down her wet cunt. “Mhmm.”

Nimble digits stretched her leaking entrance, slow at first, then your pace accelerated. Your eyes trained on her barely open ones, and you knew.

You spanked her pussy lips with your free hand, daring her to make a sound. Pride filled you when she continued her hums, eyes rolling all the way back in her head. “Come for me, do it for me, baby. In my mouth.”

She grunted in the back of her throat, grabbing your head and grinding her sensitive nub firm against your tongue. Shuri's head flew backward, her breathing picking up, and she trapped your head in between her shaking thighs. Her hold was tighter than ever, and you could barely breathe.

The strength of the Black Panther was a force to be reckoned with, still, you would be happy to be rendered unconscious by her power. You were growing to love it, got off on it even.

Shuri came with a long gurgle, and her squeeze loosened. You gasped for air, fingers still deep inside her, soaking up her intense clench. "I'm so proud of my perfect girl."

She fell back into the pillows and you went up to join her, lips dripping with her cum. You took one last look at her stuffed cheeks and smiled before removing your undergarments.

“Are you satisfied now my dear? Have I touched you enough?”

She shook her head, barely maintaining her grin as her orgasm swam within her system and coursed through her veins. “More. Need more.”

“More? More of what, my sweet?” You were not at all surprised by her response. Once you gave Shuri a taste of anything, she would always want more, her amplified stamina only made the hunger ten times worse.

Your back was against the headboard, and she sat up to face you. Shuri reached to tug your top off and you let her, eyes lighting up at the sight of your round breasts and hard nipples. She massaged them with both hands, a smirk dangling from her mouth.

You let out a deep sigh when her thumb flicked your sensitive nipples. She knew the slightest contact was enough to have your head swimming. “This is not about me. Tell me what you would like more of, Shuri.”

“More of you on me.”

You licked your lips, needing to taste her cum once more. You knew what she was asking for, and you were fully prepared to protest, then she put your boob in her mouth, tongue swirling ferociously, and all thoughts of saying no evaporated from your mind.

“Okay.”

She clapped her hands, already getting into position. Shuri was on her back again, pulling her ankles all the way back near her ears, and wiggling her toes. Fuck. She was showing off, and you loved every second of it. Her flexibility was such a turn on and it increased the thumping at your core. Cum still dripped from inside her, running all between her lips and folds, and you longed for another taste.

It was like Shuri read your mind as you watched her dip a digit inside herself, bringing it to her mouth to suck.

A grin plastered on your face when she moaned at her own flavor. “You're beyond filthy, you know that?”

“And you love it.” She giggled, grabbing her leg again.

You mounted her, thighs on either side of the backs of hers. Your clit was on her clit instantly and you both moaned aloud. Reprimanding her was out of the question this time, seeing as you broke the rule also.

“Ready?” Shuri nodded and you moved, sliding your cunt up and down her own. Your eyes were trained on her and how she parted her lips. She let her moans and cries pile in her throat, not wanting to disappoint you. Your clits knocked together angrily with your sinister pace and you were fighting screams of your own.

Your slick mingled with Shuri’s cum from her first orgasm, creating a low, continuous squelch as you rode her. She was losing hold of her shins as her pleasure built up, up, up, and you gripped her feet.

“Mmm, sthandwa, you feel so good against me, getting me wet. You’re being so good and quiet.”

She moved her head up and down needing more praise.

“Doing amazing for me,” You rolled your hips into hers intensely, the pressure of being clit to clit already tugging on your orgasm. “What a good girl, allowing me to make you feel so good. You're perfect.”

“Yes, I’m your good girl.” Shuri bucked up into you, amplifying the sensation you were both feeling, chasing the release you both craved.

Praising her subsided the obscenities threatening to escape you. You felt a little guilty now, forcing her to remain quiet through all of this. She was correct, it did feel too good.

“I'm going to come for you again. Only you can make me come.” She whispered her words and they floated up to your ears sweetly. The bed creaked slightly, but not loud enough to cause concern, so you kept going, gliding your bud against her sore one.

Your pussy leaked onto hers, sloshing and sloshing. Shuri pinched your nipples as you pressed her legs back further, needing a better angle. That pang of pleasure had you reeling.

“F-Faster!” She whisper-shouted and you considered it. Picking up the pace would mean more noise, but you weren't thinking straight, not with Shuri's sopping cunt rubbing against yours. It was a gamble you’d have to be okay with. You did as she suggested, increasing your speed of grinding into her.

You were both close, and you knew there was no way either of you could ride your orgasms out without a sound. You leaned in, muttering to her before kissing her roughly, still maintaining your speedy pace.

“Come with me my darling.” It pushed her over, you too, and you were both coming hard, bliss rocketing through you as you swallowed each other's mewls.

Slippery strings of cum and slick tied your pussies together, and the wonderful squishing was not a thing you wanted to end, but it had to. Dipping your digits into your mess, you let the mixture of your juices dance on your tastebuds, eyes flicking shut. You rolled beside Shuri, body spasming uncontrollably from the immense rush of ecstasy. Heavy breathing filled your ears as Shuri nuzzled into your perspiring frame, shaking just as you were.

“I love you so much.” You kissed her head, and something told you she still wanted more. You were fresh out of reasons to deny her now, having felt the same rush you're sure was driving her. “How else can I make my baby happy?”

“Inside.” She kissed you and it took no time for you to return it.

You glared at her, dumbfounded. “Surely you didn't pack it with your things, Shuri?”

Her grin was conformation enough and you rolled over dramatically. “You are very, very bad. In my parent's home? The home they raised me in? Sthandwa, I don't know about this.”

“I know I can be good, I know it! Please? I won't take long, I promise!”

You agreed, and she shot out of the bed. Amazing, the way she moved like she hadn't just experienced two shattering orgasms. Your single one was still filtering through you and you could barely keep your eyes open, but Shuri was anxious to grab her strap-on from her bag whilst still floating on hers.

When she returned, she acknowledged your exhaustion, so she put it on for you. It didn't take long before the device was on you, and adjusted to your body. Shuri was already sprawled out beside you and you hovered over her.

You slapped the dildo against her slippery pussy, causing her wetness to splash on the insides of her thighs.

The tip teased her tired hole and a tiny whimper darted from her parted lips. You loved that melody. “You have to be quiet my Queen. Don't want to get in trouble with my parents.”

Shuri nodded eagerly, wiggling her hips in attempts to get the toy deeper inside her on her own. This displeased you and you frowned. You leaned forward, tugging her nipples harshly and she winced.

“I need you to speak when you are spoken to, understand?”

Shuri stopped her wordless response, giving you one that satisfied. “Yes my love, I will be quiet.”

“And I am not fond of your impatience either. Trust that I will fuck you when I am ready.”

“I'm sorry, I will be good for you.” The softness of her voice made your clit jump. Seeing Shuri this way, desperate and hungry for you, was something you enjoyed entirely too much. You loved hearing her whine, loved seeing her shudder as she succumbed to frustration.

You slid the thick toy through her damp folds slowly, dragging it out for as long as you could. Shuri was gnawing on her bottom lip below you, biting back strings of moans. “Tell me where you want it, my dear.”

She stuttered, sucking in some air to help her speak. “I-Inside. I want you inside of me, deep.”

Her words were all you needed. You scooted up the mattress, back pressed to the headboard, deciding last minute you wanted her in a different position. Shuri caught on to the change in plans immediately, and she was on your lap soon after.

She sank onto the large strap, stretching herself wide with a gasp. She met your eyes, and you reminded her of her promise of silence. You rocked in and out of Shuri’s tight pussy, loosening her up with each hard thrust. Her arms slung around your neck to keep herself upright and you gripped her waist as you fucked up into her.

“How does that feel, my dear?” You did not think it possible that she could get any wetter, but she was full of surprises. Her juices lubricated your drilling, making your job easier.

All she managed were dumb little babbles. Shuri's nails clawed into your back, pulling you closer than humanly possible, and your nipples grazed. Holding the power to make her feel everything as you fucked her amplified your own lusty desires.

“What did I say?”

“Yes. You make me feel so good, only you.” You smiled then, intensifying your pounding and rocking the bed.

You slammed into her again and again, watching her tits jump, and she humped you back just as fiercely. Her resilience was a wonder. “So greedy, taking me so well.”

You hit her bundle of nerves deep within and she bit down on your shoulder with everything she had. Pain whipped through your body, dancing with your pleasure and the vibrations you felt from her riding you, and you whimpered.

If the tears rolling down Shuri’s face were any indication, it was apparent she was approaching her climax, and stifling her moans was becoming a task of the past.

You kissed her tear-stained cheeks gently as you bucked into her pussy. “It's okay baby, let it out. You're so stunning when you cry for me.”

You no longer cared about keeping her quiet, you only wanted to make the love of your life feel amazing.

Her moans picked up the higher she got, and you reassured her with loud, breathy mewls of your own.

“S-So pretty, and all mine.” You hummed, massaging circles into her clit as you fucked her with intention.

“I'm yours! Only yours!”

Shuri squirted all over the dildo, your crotch, spraying the sheets as she came. Her scream was boisterous, booming, sure to startle birds from their nests. It was long and loud, and it made you come seconds after her, your forehead collapsing to her bouncing chest. You kissed the space between her breasts before gently pulling out and laying her down on her side of the bed.

You leapt up and headed to the bathroom, returning with a warm washcloth to tidy her up. Shuri was half asleep then, all curled in on herself. “I need to clean you up my darling.”

She hummed when you began: dabbing the insides of her thighs, wiping the remnants of cum from her stomach and her most delicate, flinching a little at the heat before she relaxed into it.

You carried her naked body to the bath that you were running, placing her inside ever so carefully. Suds covered her as you washed her back, her shoulders, and legs, massaging her muscles in the process.

When you finished, you wrapped her in a fluffy green towel and dressed her at your window seat. Fresh boxers and a large t-shirt of her choosing. She laughed when you lathered cocoa butter on her legs and feet, informing you that it tickled.

After you cleaned yourself up and changed the sheets you tucked her in bed, kissing her cheek before climbing in next to her. You wrapped yourself around her and she spooned you tight, tracing her teeth marks on your shoulder. Face pressed to her chest, listening to her breathing even out, you let your eyes flutter shut, and sleep overtook you.

•••

Dread, and Shuri’s limbs tangled all around you glued you to your bed as you thought of facing your family.

Now that you were coherent, everything wrong with what you and Shuri did the night before flashed through your mind. You did not regret the sex, obviously, but there was regret about doing something like that with your parents and sister doors away.

You were honestly terrified about ever leaving the room. You and Shuri would just have to slip out the window, without a goodbye, forever because you could never look them in the eyes again.

She stirred awake beside you with a smile and kissed your cheek. “Good morning, my everything.”

“No. No good morning. Bad morning, very, very bad morning.”

Shuri laughed, sitting up so she could fully view you and your terror. “Let me guess. Right now your brain is actively concocting some sort of escape plan, in which we flee this room, maybe even the country, so you may never have to face your family again. Am I correct?”

“Your suit! Activate your Black Panther suit and shimmy us out the window, I'm begging!”

Her amusement was truly daunting. Did she not realize your parents would now hate her? “I'm hungry.”

She peered at you through puppy dog eyes and you had no choice but to give in. “Fine. We shall face the music together, as a couple, a unit.”

“The music is what your parents heard coming from within these walls last night.”

You smacked her chest. “Shuri!”

“They heard you scream that too.” You pulled a pillow over your face and groaned.

After your many protests, she finally managed to get you out of the room and down to the kitchen. The silence was heavy, and eerie, as though no one was home, which you knew was not possible.

“We don't know that they heard us, relax, my love.” Her words were not reassuring.

When the two of you rounded the corner, three sets of disturbed eyes found you. “Never mind.”

“Good morning.” There was no response. You decided to ignore it, starting on your and Shuri’s breakfast instead. You brought the food over to where she sat at the kitchen table and she smiled before digging in.

Everyone ate in silence, the sounds of silverware clanging against bowls and plates filling the air. You decided there was no time like the present.

“I am aware that there is a ginormous elephant in the room with us right now, I would like to address it.”

Your sister was the first one to speak. “The two of you disgust me far more than you could ever know, and yet my respect for you has somehow grown.”

Shuri’s laughter was shrill and you shot her a murderous glance. She apologized and went back to her food, but you took note of her sly grin.

“Cela, we do not have to talk about it. I just want to enjoy my breakfast.” The look of disappointment on your mother's face was one you expected, and your father had yet to meet your eyes.

Your gaze was back on Shuri as you squeezed her hand under the table. She shrugged, but you could tell her nerves were buzzing in anticipation of what you would say next.

“There is something you should know about us, about me.”

Your mother sucked her teeth. “I just said I do not want to talk about it.”

“It is not that. I-I am,” Shuri's grip on your hand under the table grew firmer, more encouraging. “I like women. And I am with Shuri.”

“I think we were subjected to finding that out against our will. The entire city has to know also.” Your mother pinched your sister and she shreiked.

You sighed. “The Queen and I are engaged to be married.”

Your father's eyes bolted up as he heard your words, but still, he said nothing.

Shuri cleared her throat beside you, deciding to give you a beat to breathe, aware of how difficult this was for you.

“I am in love with your daughter, and I wish to spend my life with her, have her rule by my side. She is brilliant and beautiful, and perfect. She takes care of me in ways I could never achieve on my own, and there isn't anything I would not do for her. She stood by my side through it all, fought with me, did everything for me. I would like to return all of her efforts by marrying her and loving her until my last days.”

You heard a low gasp come from your sister and she moved swiftly to wipe her tears. “That was beautiful…if you like that sort of thing.”

Your own tears went unnoticed by you, it was Shuri who swatted them away. Your chest was heavy, and you wheezed.

“Say something, please.” Your puffy eyes were on your parents who only looked back and forth between each other.

“We love you. We want only for you to be happy.” Your breath stuttered when your father finally spoke.

You sniffed. “Shuri makes me happy.” You smiled softly at her and she returned it.

“Then this engagement has our blessing. My Queen, take good care of our baby.”

Shuri nodded, bringing your fingers to her lips. “If we are to be family, you must start calling me Shuri.”

“I would just like to let it be known, I knew there was more than just a friendship between you two the moment you arrived. Truly, you did nothing to hide it.”

Your parents agreed with your sister's sentiment, admitting they too suspected something and you gasped. “I told you they knew.”

“Well, we have a wedding to prepare for!” Your mother clapped and everyone cheered.

“My Qu–, Shuri, I do have one request before we begin our planning.”

Shuri straightened. “Anything.”

“You will sleep in the guest room for the duration of your stay. I cannot bear a repeat of last night, not while you are under this roof.”

Shuri flushed at your father's admonishment, feeling the same shame you had been bathing in since you opened your eyes, and you felt no desire to ease it.

“Of-Of course.”

The awkwardness shifted a tad, everyone wrapped up in wedding talk. Your brown eyes found Shuri’s amidst it all, tuning out all of the noise, it was only the two of you — existing only for each other.

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