#even on the darkest night if you remember to look up. him going from being a symbol of hope and humanity to being a character

[laneywrld]

things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton

part two

word count: 10k

warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.

A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate

It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.

Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.

Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him. 

Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.

Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track. 

Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.

Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.  

Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.

She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people. 

She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.

She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.

Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships. 

She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.

That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.

Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.

When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her. 

Lewis 🏁

How's your date?

She shakes her head, typing out her response.

dense. how's silverstone? 

Lewis 🏁

Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.

i'm sorry 😞  

Lewis 🏁

I'm going to need you tonight.

Lewis, i'm on a date.

Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.

Lewis 🏁

Is he getting lucky tonight?

NO!

Lewis 🏁

So why can't I?

Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again. 

She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.

"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously. 

She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.

Lewis 🏁

My jet will be waiting for you.

That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower. 

When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed. 

It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.

"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.

He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.

"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."

"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.

"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.

Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him. 

She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body. 

After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.

She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."

"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.

Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin. 

Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.

Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship. 

He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.

Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.

"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.

She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."

"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."

His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.

"Okay." 

Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.

"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.

Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?

She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.

"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck. 

She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.

"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"

Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay." 

Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.

"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"

Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."

"Why that?"

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly. 

-

They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.

"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back. 

"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."

"Come on, beautiful."

He sits up, forcing her up with him.

She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck. 

He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.

He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.

He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.

There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.

"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.

She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.

When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.

This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle. 

She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same. 

"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.

As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.

The screen lights up with notifications. 

One catches her eye from, Natalie.

Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.

Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.

It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.

Still on for tomorrow?

At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.

"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him. 

She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes. 

He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.

Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.

But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.

She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him. 

Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.

-

She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.

He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.

"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"

She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending. 

Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.

When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.

"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.

"Hi, George, I'm Clem."

"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.

"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."

George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.

"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"

She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.

Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."

And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.

George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.

"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."

"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.

Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.

When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.

She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.

She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.

"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.

"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.

"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.

"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.

She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.

She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.

"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"

She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."

"Then get in the fucking car."

Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment. 

He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.

Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile. 

Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.

It has him hard instantly.

"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.

"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."

Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.

"I want to kiss you, but people will see."

She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.

"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.

"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place. 

"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."

"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.

"You like fucking with me." He declares.

Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.

"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.

He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.

 Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips. 

He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.

He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.

Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.

When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto. 

He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically. 

She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.

He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door. 

"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.

He looks stressed and zoned out.

"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.

Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.

She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes. 

"You sure?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."

That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."

She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."

Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.

Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."

"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.

Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.

"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.

"Time to race, Lewis."

She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.

Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.

She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.

When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves. 

She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile. 

She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.

She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.

She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.

She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head. 

She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her. 

She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.

His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.

Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place. 

"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.

She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.

"I can feel it in my bones." 

"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.

Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!" 

He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.

"Well, that's me."

Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.

"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.

"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.

"Get in the car, Hamilton."

She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.

She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.

Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.

She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.

"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.

"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."

Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.

Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"

She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."

Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.

"Intense, yeah?" He questions.

"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."

"First time coming to a race?"

She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."

She laughs, "Right."

The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes. 

He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.

But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.

Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.

Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.

It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race. 

He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.

This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is. 

That anger got him P3. 

He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.

Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.

She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.

She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.

When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.

But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours. 

When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed. 

There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.

He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.

He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.

He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him. 

"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."

Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet. 

"Can you walk?" 

She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights. 

Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.

He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.

Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.

Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't. 

"I had fun," she announces.

"I'm glad."

"You got podium." She cheers lowly.

Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.

She gives up trying to talk to him after that. 

The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.

When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.

As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.

Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.

"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.

"No, I don't." 

"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.

"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.

"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes. 

"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.

Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.

"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.

She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.

He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other. 

"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks. 

He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.

She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.

He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.

Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress. 

He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair. 

Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room. 

She tasted so good.

Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing. 

Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone. 

He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.

He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.

"Fuck."

Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.

Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears. 

When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls. 

She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.

He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours. 

"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.

"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.

"I think you do." 

His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.

"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.

"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"

Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.

Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her. 

He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire. 

He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.

Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force. 

This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.

Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.

Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.

She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis. 

Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.

He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.

"Woah." she pants.

Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.

Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.

"I booked you a room."

He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.

"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.  

"It's just a floor below, suite 909."

Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"

Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.

"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.

Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness. 

"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.

Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."

She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.

She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt. 

Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase. 

 "Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."

Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.

She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.

And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.

She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator. 

The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob. 

She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.

For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much. 

It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.

Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.

It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.

-

Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness. 

He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.

He regrets his actions. 

He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood. 

He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.

"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"

He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel. 

He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.

He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.

He never stood a chance against her charm.

He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.

-

When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds. 

"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.

The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.

"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."

Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.

Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away. 

-

Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since. 

Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.

Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants. 

"That was fun." She exhales.

He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile. 

This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure. 

He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"

He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.

"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."

Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.

He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.

It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him. 

He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.

Everything unchanged, nothing new.

Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.

So he tries dating. 

And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.

Their eyes don't gleam like hers.

They don't understand his humor.

They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.

They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.

They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.

They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.

Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.

And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man. 

When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.

clemmy 🪂

I need to see you, where are you?

He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.

He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.

He'd take any sight of her he could get.

-

Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people. 

If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons. 

She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart. 

How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit. 

"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."

Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."

Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too. 

But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.

Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all. 

clementine

liked by feliciathegoat, pharrell, and 12,898,465 others

clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !! 

view all comments

feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿

clementine the coolest 😎

lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR

clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️

user no bc who did my girl like that

clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃

user builds character my ass, go beat his ass

user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???

clementine yk im filming girl 🙄

clementine

liked by danielricciardo, justinbieber, and 10,898,465 others

clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?

danielricciardo In your hands slaps

clementine you sir, have great taste 😘

user daniel what are you doing here 😭

user No really, weird ass crossover episode

user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen

clementine you noticing the small details >>>

justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me

clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂

user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm

feliciathegoat i love my bestie

clementine and I love u T 🥹

-

Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.

He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.

Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash. 

He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door. 

He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome. 

He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door. 

He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.

She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.

"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."

"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."

She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.

His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.

She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.

"I love you."

She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"

He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."

"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.

"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.

"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest. 

He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.

"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."

Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."

"But you did, " she cries.

"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."

"You don't mean that." Clem breathes. 

"I promise I do, Clem."

She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."

He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."

"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."

It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues. 

"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you."

"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.

"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."

"It's almost spring," Clem announces. 

"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.

"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.

"I missed listening to you. Swear I did." 

"Are we still friends?"

"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more." 

"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.

She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."

"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you." 

"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.

"Starting over, right?"

"Yeah, starting over."

Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.

Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining. 

"Thank you for showing up for me."

Not proofread

the album:

bad religion - frank ocean

in your hands - halle

i think- tyler, the creator

saturn- sza

broken is the man- jorja smith

everything is gonna be alright- infinity song

everything- kehlani

mine- beyonce ft drake

poison- beyonce

are we still friends- tyler, the creator

eternal sunshine- jhene aiko

<3

#black reader #lewis hamilton #f1 #formula 1 #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x black reader #poc reader #black female oc #lewis hamilton x black female oc #black reader friendly #things lost and things found part two

[martyrbat]

[ID: an uncoloured drawing for a panel next to the publicized version. They're both from the comic Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight #194. In them, Batman is shown from the waist up. He's looking at Jim Gordon, who's off panel, with a penitent expression after being accused of something he secretly did do. He has his palm pressed against his chest and is blocking the bat emblem as his other hand is clasped ontop of it. In the initial drawing, there's a halo floating above his head as well as several tiny hearts mixed in with the lights that surround him. In the publicized panel, the hearts and halo has been removed and two speech bubbles have been added. He's in front of a terra rose background and is starting to say, “Jim, I don't even know what you're...” But Jim cuts him off, saying, “Stop it. I'm tired of this.”

The third photo is a description of the drawing from the artist's (Seth Fisher) website. It reads: This is another page that the DC editors changed: no halos or hearts around Batman, no matter how (disingenuously) contrite he is. In the final edition, the halo and heart in the center bottom frame have been excised.]

#happy sad boy sunday !!! #this counts because he's getting broken up with and because im sad bc they removed the halo and hearts #included the link to the website on the word too :3 in case any of u wanted to see his unpublished work too #deleting a big ol rant that no one cares about but basically: #hate seeing how much creativity and personality gets edited and removed despite it being the artist's job & how you have rememberable #and remarkable art. i get the editors got an important job but at the same time at what point do you allow art and personality to exist #just to make comics more fun to read/look at instead of basing everything on a capitalistic stoic reputation that #youre responsible for creating?? turning batman into a symbol of unwavering compassion and empathy and the reminder theres always stars #even on the darkest night if you remember to look up. him going from being a symbol of hope and humanity to being a character #that cant fucking have a heart or visual compassion out of fear they cant market him more or ruin that fragile reputation. #they make editing decisions based on it as a product instead of it as a character/story or an artform and god does it show. #happy sad boy sunday bc shutting down artistic freedom and expressionism for capitalistic reasonings is making me want to shoot myself 🥰🥰 #c: batman: legends of the dark knight | i: 194 #crypt's panels #batman #posts from the crypt

[wongyuuu]

calendar | csc

pairing: seungcheol x f!reader genre: smut word count: 3.1k summary: the red mark on the calendar is one of seungcheol's favorites warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, stimulation, swearing, petnames, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (don't do this), oral (f. receiving), breeding kink, cock sleeve (kinda), dirty talking playlist: ➝ here a/n: still a little (a lot) insecure about smut, but wanted to try writing this one. not proof read

please remember that comments and reblogs are extremely important

seungcheol stopped in front of the calendar in the closet, a smile tugging at his lips. the red circle around the date, signaling an important event he always waited a little more anxiously for. 

not that having sex with his wife was something he couldn't do as often as he liked, far from that. if anything both of you were always eager to be with each other, even after so many years together. it had never gotten boring or dull at any moment. both of you always wanted to try new things and keep it interesting, mostly you. for seungcheol being buried deep inside you while you moaned his name was to closest thing he'd ever to heaven, if such a place even existed. 

he gave up on the shirt, knowing fully well what the sight of him in nothing but sweats did to you. pair it with his wet hair and it was enough to drive you crazy. the good thing about being with someone for so long is knowing exactly what ticks the other person off, and what buttons to press. well, it could be both a blessing and a curse. in that moment seungcheol chose to believe that it was solely a blessing. 

a small groan left his lips at the sight of you lying on your stomach, scrolling through your phone, in his shirt and black pair of panties — the one he bought you after there was a small accident with a few pieces of underwear. 

the thing about ticks and buttons is that it works both ways and, obviously, seungcheol wasn't the only one who could play that game. 

he crawled on top of you slowly and pushed your hair to the side so he could kiss the nape of your head. you sighed in contentment when you felt his weight on top of yours. 

"look," you said, raising your phone slightly "hannie sent me pictures of his daughter today"

seungcheol looked at the smiling face of his friend with a little girl in his arms. it had been many years since he had seen jeonghan look quite that happy. of course that suddenly finding out about a child and suddenly needing to be a full-time dad wasn't the easiest thing in the world but he was playing it like a breeze. you swiped your finger and a picture of the little girl in a bright yellow dress greeted him. seungcheol smiled. yeah, she was cute and looked every bit like jeonghan, acted too. a little menace, she was.

"what does he want? if he's sending pictures he wants something" he chuckled knowing his friend well. everything jeonghan did had a purpose.

seungcheol sat back on his heels and slowly started to massage your shoulders over the fabric of the shirt. 

"he asked if we can have gia tomorrow night, he has a work thing to go" you moaned lowly when seungcheol pressed on the not in your shoulder blade, "i said yes"

he laughed again. of course you had been quick to agree, it didn't surprise him. you had always loved kids and were always happily willing to have them for any amount of time needed. after you had gotten married it had gotten a little more frequent since most of your friends had decided to have kids at the same, and since jeonghan found out about his daughter it had gotten weekly. seungcheol never complained, he too loved kids and liked having them around, he especially loved the glint in your eyes whenever you looked at them running around the living room, breaking a thing or two.

"cheol" you said one day at the darkest hour of the night after rolling around in bed for hours, voice barely a whisper as you played with his hair "i... should we start trying?"

it was too late, his mind was barely working, almost drowning in sleep for him to understand what you were saying but in hindsight, he should have seen it coming.

"trying what?" he asked turning around and wrapping you in his arms, his leg nesting between yours.

"for a baby"

that was how the calendar ended up hanging on the closet wall. your ovulation period was marked in a bright red marker. 

"do you think it's really work or, maybe, a date?" you asked.

slowly seungcheol moved his hand lower, to the small of your back, pressing a little more tenderly where he knew you struggled with pain. he moved your, his, shirt up,  adding a little more pressure as your body fully relaxed under him.

"jeonghan wouldn't date now," he said "gia is still getting used to him and us, he wouldn't add someone else to the mix"

you turned around under him, eyes narrowed. when you raised your arm to rest it under your head your shirt lifted a little, exposing the skin right over the elastic of your underwear. it was pretty, yes, with lace details on the sides but that mattered very little. seungcheol was far more interested in what was hidden under it. 

"you're telling me that jeonghan hasn't fucked anyone since we got gia? a whole seven months ago"

seungcheol placed his hands on your waist, your skin warm under his touch. the corner of your lips tugged up at the expression in your husband's eyes. he was struggling to keep focus on the conversation both of you were heaving. jeonghan and gia were the least of his worries. 

"i care very little about who jeonghan fucks" he said, voice hoarse as he leaned forward at the same time he pushed your shirt further up "all i care about is putting a baby in my beautiful wife"

he pressed a kiss to your naked skin. he had imagined it many times, you pregnant with his kid, your belly around. it had been one of the many reasons why he had woken you up in the middle of the night and fucked you dumb. he had never said anything, choosing to let you decide when it was time. when you were ready to have a baby. seungcheol knew that it was going to change things for you a lot more than it would for him, it was also your body. 

if it were up to him, you'd have a least two kids running around the house. 

"you have some work to do then," you said, laughing. 

almost like a reflex, you tangled your fingers in his hair. you sighed as seungcheol started his exploratory kisses. some were light, like the touch of a feather, loving, in a worship manner. others were the exact opposite, harsher as he pulled your skin in between his teeth just for a second, to later soothe the spot with the tip of his tongue. he loved to leave tiny marks in your body, where no one else would be able to see them but him. but you knew they were there, it was a constant reminder of the night before and a reminder of what was still to come.

you spread your legs to better accommodate seungcheol as he pushed your shirt to your neck.  you felt a little electric tension run over your skin when you noticed his eyes on you, taking in your every expression. you smiled when he pressed his thumb over your hard nipple, pinching it.

seungcheol took your boob into his mouth, biting your nipple at the same time he pinched the other one. involuntarily your back arched, your grip on his hair tightening.

he loved the sounds you made, how it usually started so low and small but he always managed to work you up enough to get you begging under him, on top of him. either way, you'd end the night pleading for him, for his cock.

"do you think today is the day?" he asked, trailing his kisses again down your stomach to your panties "do you think i can pump you full enough to get you pregnant?"

you expected seungcheol to tug at the sides of your panties and pull them down but instead, he kissed you over them. he grinned when he saw the small wet spot in your underwear. 

"i barely started and you're already wet, baby?" he teased.

he ran his finger over your cunt still covered by the thin panties. your hips twitched under his touch, needing more than just light touches. but you weren't ready to give in to him yet. he was going to have to work harder if he wanted to hear you begging for more.

"not a word? playing hard to get tonight, i see" he pushed your underwear to the side, lightly blowing your clit. he had to contain the laugh that erupted in his chest "let's see how long it lasts"

you raised your hips as seungcheol used his index fingers to pull your panties down. you laughed when you saw the small piece of cloth being thrown over his shoulder. your laughter died as soon as you felt his warm, wet, tongue on your clit. he sucked the small bundle of never into his mouth at the same time he pushed two fingers into you. he was relentless, his pace devastating, not giving you a second to breathe.

the sounds, of his mouth on you as well as the wetness of your pussy, were obscene but they turned you on even further. you wanted, needed, more.

and the thing is, seungcheol was the giving kind of partner. whatever you wanted was yours, but you had to say it, loud and clear. for him.

"come one baby, just ask" he blew your clit again, this time using the tip of his thumb to lightly brush it "use your pretty little mouth and beg for me"

a curse left your lips when his fingers stopped moving and he pulled away from you. your orgasm that was right there, around the corner, suddenly gone, leaving only your throbbing cunt and ragged breathing as a witness. 

you tried to grab his hand and push his fingers back but the was being a little shit, holding it behind his back.

"fuck, seungcheol," you said, partially annoyed, and desperately turned on "just eat me out, fuck me with your fingers. whatever you do just make me cum"

"your wish, wife, is always my command"

seungcheol wasted no second. his lips were around your clit and a third finger was added into to slit. it only took a few pumps for you to come undone under him. a mess of moans and curses. unsure of when exactly you had let go,  your hand gripped his hair again, forcing his head closer to you, grinding his face against you, desperate for everything he had.

seungcheol used the edge of the mattress to apply some pressure on his throbbing cock. he was so hard it was painful so whatever friction he could get was welcomed. 

every single one of your moans were met a stroke of his tongue and a pump of his fingers. it was torture, the most delicious and vicious kind of torture.

seungcheol only leaned back when he felt the shake in your legs subside, crawling back you. he pressed his thumb in your mouth, smiling when you opened and sucked him in. you were the most beautiful thing in the world, with your cheeks painted in a bright shade of pink, and two tear stains on the sides of your eyes. god, he loved you. 

you could taste your own release in his finger when you circled his finger with your tongue. you grazed his skin with your teeth looking into his eyes. seungcheol hissed, wishing that it was his cock in your mouth.

"i know you would love it if i sucked you," you said "but i really need you to fuck me, right now, please"

you were going to be the death of him.

you pulled your shirt over your head and turned around, sticking your ass up while your chest was pressed against the pillow.

for a second seungcheol felt like a teenager who just found out he was about to fuck the hottest girl he had ever laid eyes on. he was quick to push his sweats off. he hadn't bothered with boxers, knowing exactly where the night would lead the two of you.

"i'm going to fill you up so good baby" he squeezed your ass and second later slapped it "so so deep there's no way you won't get pregnant tonight"

he ran his tip over your pussy a few times, coating himself in you. he knew that he could slide in without doing it but he also liked torturing you. your moans got a little more desperate every time rubbed against your clit.

whenever he took you bare the sensation was entirely new and different. yes, there were a few instances when both of you were in too much of a hurry, or sometimes it just didn't matter enough, to care or remember to take a condom, but ultimately both of you had always been careful. you took your pills, he carried a condom and life moved on. but even after months of no condom, no barrier at all between the two of you, seungcheol still felt his head get a little dizzy. 

your walls adjusted perfectly to him, clinging around him, pulling him, demanding every single inch of him. he slowly pushed in until all he was deep into you, to the hilt.

you moaned against the soft fabric of the sheets, loving the burning sensation of the stretch. you pushed your ass high in the hair, wiggling it from side to side begging him to just move. the stretch of his dick deliciously painful still.

"cheol, move" you begged.

"this what you want?" he asked 

seungcheol pushed your head further into the mattress, his hand on the back of your head, thighing your hair around his fist. finally he started to move, he pulled his cock all the way out and pressed it back in, hitting that one spot that made your head spin and little stars shine behind your closed eyes, over and over again. you squirmed when seungcheol pressed his weight over your body, moaning as he somehow got even deeper.

you moved your hand down your body, slowly circling your with the tip of your nail.

"cheol, fuck" you bit the pillow "faster, please, just fuck me"

he loved the neediness in your voice, how you completely forfeit with your no-begging police. the smell of your sweet vanilla soap disappeared now that your skin was coated in a thin layer of sweat. 

seungcheol didn't change his rhythm, knowing that it was enough to drive you crazy and over the edge.

"are you touching yourself, baby?" he pulled on your hair, giving you a taste of your medicine. his dick throbbed when he saw the smile on your face "fuck"

he reached forward, slapping your hand away from your cunt. you cursed at him but the nasty words were quickly replaced with a moan when he pinched your clit, tugging and pressing, driving you fucking crazy on his dick. even so, his pace was slow.

"cum for me, baby" he whispered. 

"let me ride you" you begged "i want to look at you when you breed me"

your words had always been the ruin of him. he almost came right there. he turned you around and sat on the bed, grinning when you cried when his dick left your pussy.

"i know, baby, but you were the one that wanted to ride me"

a small fuck you left your lips as you crawled on top of him. seungcheol moaned when you gripped him, your hand sliding up and down his length while you grazed his tip with your nail lightly. you aligned him to you and sank down in one swift movement, making both of you moan.

seungcheol was wrong, being balls deep into you wasn't paradise. no. paradise was being balls deep in your cunt while you rode him, tits bouncing in in his face, while you moaned his name again and again like a prayer, taking what you wanted from him. he cupped your breasts in his hands. your hands covered his, forcing your nipples between his fingers and squeezing. 

"fuck. cheol" you said, eyes on his as you circled your hips before thrusting down on him again "i'm gonna cum. i need to"

your walls squeezed around him. seungcheol moaned as he held you by the hips holding you in place, while the pounded into you, finally, finally fucking you as fast and as hard as you wanted. he fucked you roughly, watching as his cock disappeared in your cunt, each thrust deeper than the previous one. seungcheol felt the muscles of his thighs and stomach squeeze at the same time you clenched around him, milking him.

he pressed his thumb to your clit and the scream you let out was enough to drive both of you to the edge. you let your body fall forward, and you bit that spot between his shoulder and neck. seungcheol continued to pound into you, fucking his cum as deep as he could, pushing it further into you making sure not even a drop was wasted. 

it took both of you a couple of minutes to settle down, evening out your breathing, and making sure your legs were no longer shaking.

"seungcheol" you cried, finally looking at his face, kissing him, letting him invade your mouth with his tongue "i'm so full. it's so deep"

he could never, ever, get enough of you.

“don’t move baby, let’s make sure this one sticks”

you kissed the side of his neck, feeling his hot cum inside you while his dick slowly got flaccid. you loved to have him in you, just there, with you, as close as humanly possible, with nothing between the two of you. his personal cock sleeve, he had called you a few times.

“you say it like fucking me is a terrible task someone assigned you”

you felt the vibrations of his laughter before you heard it. you just closed your eyes and pressed your head to his chest, the sound of his heartbeats calming like a lullaby.

“fucking you is the one task i’ll never ask someone else to do in my place”

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[ktsumu]

when you meet his family (cousins, parents, sister, brother, and brothers*) warnings: drinking

-

Right from the first night you kissed him, Issei's dreamt of this going every way possible.

He's thought of it being a mess, defending your honour after a misunderstanding with a cousin or something, taking your hand and squeezing it before waking up with a shiver.

He's thought of it going fucking fantastic, with his mom liking you a bit more than she probably likes him, calling you one of her own and ushering you out of his grasp to ask what wine you like.

And he's though of it going neither way, sat in the middle of neutrality, where they simply decided you were a fine choice for their fine son and that was going to be that.

He didn't cover this.

It's not that he didn't cover it, actually, it's that he can't categorize it. It doesn't fall into any of those three categories he so meticulously dreamt up— you don't fit any of them.

It was decided you'd finally meet his family at his sister's engagement party. He remembers explaining the game plan over a lunch date— all the attention's on them, so you won't have to be as nervous. Good, yeah?

(You snorted, telling him sure, whatever and asking what he was gonna order.)

You both prepared for this like you're in the finals, drew up your game plan on a locker room whiteboard and put your hands in the middle. You wore your finest backyard BBQ-appropriate attire and told Issei to at least add a belt, rolled your eyes when he said he liked your Sunday best.

He told you didn't need to worry about that, that you'd look 'fucking hot' in anything, but you ignored him entirely.

(He didn't mind, 'cause he got a good look when you you were walking away.)

He doesn't even know why he was nervous, now.

The two of you set foot in that house for maybe ten seconds before being overwhelmed with the love inside, warm hands patting his back and names he's heard a million times introducing themselves to you for the first.

He found himself watching how his people swooned over you, gushing over your name and how it suits you— he thinks he remembers doing the same, at least once.

He found himself watching you from across the room as you left his side— divide and conquer, 'Sei —with his mom, grinning as you whirled your head around to decide who you'd answer to first. Grinning as he punched his cousin's gut, the one hanging off of his shoulders and asking how much he paid you.

("Nothing, dickwad."

"Bullshit. How?"

"Magic. You'll never know.")

He found himself relaxing his shoulders when you all went outside, taking a bottle from someone tall enough to ruffle his hair and taunt about how big he's gotten, taking a drink when you met his eyes.

You smiled, and all the worry he's had for the last week disappeared in one fell swoop.

He introduced you to his parents, his sister, her fiancé— his sister was half in the bag and said something about how he talks about you more than anything else, but it wasn't anything you didn't know.

His dad clapped him on the shoulder and pointedly said he's glad he's settled down, but no one can hold him to the man he was in university.

He's pretty sure his mom wanted you to stay the night.

He introduced you to his little brother, who— for the first time that evening —looked up from his phone to blink twice and say you were a stunner. Call me if Issei does you wrong, too.

(He flipped him off and nudged you the other way.)

The wad of cousins that are around your age told you all about a childhood with Issei, of his darkest secrets, raised brows all around when you simply said he told you already.

Safe to say they approved.

Check. Check. Check. Check. Check.

Judgement day was more of how he introduced you to his boys more than anything else. Because he knew that, if anyone was gonna be scarily honest, it was gonna be them.

Makki knew you already— he's around Issei's apartment too much not to know you. It helped to have someone in your corner in talking you up to Tooru and Hajime.

Iwa greeted you with a warm handshake, already armed with harmless questions. He knew where you were from, but he asked you like Issei didn't spill everything after a week of knowing you. He knew how you met Issei, but he asked you like he didn't.

Tooru hugged you, and his questions had an intense lean. Why Issei? What'd you see in him first? If you could pick one thing about him that you love the most, what is it? And don't say anything below the belt!

(That was the end of the onslaught. Hajime grabbed him by the scruff and told him to just stop talking.)

Now it's nearing seven, and the party's winding down.

There's a fire burning and everyone's figuring out a way to crowd around it. His backyard's never been big, but his family's never been either— crammed together shoulder to shoulder, hands on someone's knees when they laugh.

You're off with his sister again, figuring out how much you have in common while Issei prepares to have you stolen away from here for the rest of his life. He doesn't really mind it.

He's slumped back in a lawn chair he used to nap in when he was a kid, paint peeling and the wood probably too old for him, a bottle of beer in hand that he swirls nice and slow. Makki and the others sit on either side, legs kicked up with twin drinks. Makki kicks Issei's to bring him back.

Brothers.*

"So," he drawls.

"Better be good, Makki."

"Good?" Makki shares a glance with Iwa and Tooru—they look equally as buzzed, equally as pleased. "I think you're set for life, man."

There's a quiet laughter amongst the three of them, Tooru even nudges his shoulder when he looks back at him, hanging off of Hajime's neck. The four of them are rarely serious, which is how Issei knows so well when they mean something.

"Think so?"

"Know so. That's your fucking match, dude."

Hajime scoffs from the side. "Never thought I'd see the day."

Issei snorts, taking a slow drink. "Still bitter and single, I see."

"I just congratulated you five minutes ago!" he defends, hiding behind the mouth of his bottle. "Fuck,"

"It's okay, Iwa, you'll do great when you learn to talk to people at the gym!"

"I don't even wanna hear it from you Tooru—get off my fuckin' back,"

"Girls, stop fighting."

Chatter drowns into the back of his mind when you walk into it, just a simple look making you rule it alone. You're smiling at him. The smile that he finds so easy to stare at, one that is unequivocally yours.

He offers you one back— his is more crooked, but that's just how it is. He never really noticed until you told him how much you love it, now he tries a little harder.

"You know," Tooru's singsong tone brings Issei back to the bubble, "now that you've introduced us all, that'll should you guys, next."

Issei follows his finger to where your hands cradle your sister's engagement ring, entirely not your style but still beautiful. He grins, because he knows enough to know you'd like something else.

"Uh, okay, slow down maybe?"

"Why do you take everything so seriously, Iwaa?"

The thought makes him feel wonderfully sick. Butterflies, thunderstorms, whatever else in his gut. The sight of a ring near your hand makes him grin.

"Yeah," Issei agrees, head tilting as he watches you come back to him. "Guess it will be."

(The three of them share a look.)

"What're you guys talking about?" you ask, taking the hand that lures you into Issei's lap. You settle into the spot you've practically molded for yourself, arm reaching around to comb your fingers through the curls on the back of his head. "What'd I miss?"

Issei leans back to get a good look at you. "Nothin,' just catching up."

You scan over the four of them— they've all got that look that says they're up to no good, but you think that's the effect of the group.

"Uh-huh."

Issei can't categorize tonight into one of his three genres of dreams he's had. It's not that it wasn't amazing, it's that it was more than that.

He hadn't thought about bringing you home, and leaving a piece of you there. He hadn't thought about bringing a piece of it home with you. He can feel it in his lap, and he wants to ask you right here.

Makki huffs a laugh, giving Issei a little wink behind your back.

"So," he drawls, "I forget—what'd you see in him, again?"

"Oh, not this."

#sorry this has no plot I just love him #matsukawa x reader #matsukawa issei x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq!! x reader #kit writes

[xcrust]

Paint the Town Red [PREVIEW]

I seriously haven't written due to having an education but for my story i want to give you improvement and quality content. So I am not making you all wait too long here is a preview of the next chapter. If there is anything that you feel is needed and note you would want to offer then i would love for you to throw it my way

FULL STORY HERE

All the latest chapters and previous is at that link!!!

Looking between the mirror in front of you, reflecting In the soft glow of dawn's embrace, (Y/n) stood before the ornate mirror that adorned her room. The morning sunlight filtered through the delicate curtains, casting a warm radiance upon them as they examined her reflection. It wasn't the typical admiration one might associate with vanity; rather, it was an introspective gaze that transcended the surface.

As they lifted a lock of hair, the sunlight or rather the glimmer caught the subtle highlights, reminiscent of the glimmers of hope that had guided them through the darkest nights. The relationship between their parents isn't inherently bad. But the isolating feeling never evolved or made anything better. This dark world was something that was all you knew. Inherently when it came to your view of humans it had to be a little different from your older sister. All humans are made corrupt. No matter the family a person is raised from. Though what allows hell borns to be condemned to whatever flock shows up. It is a harsh ideal but with so much bad coming from earth then how could someone even have a belief that earth is all that good when it's corrupting the supposed bad.

Nevertheless the people that showed up from earth kept the seven rings entertained the more time went on. In fact if it weren't for earth then you wouldn't be in the situation that you are now. You couldn't remember the last time you had dinner with your parents, Family dinners hadn't been a thing in a long time. So sitting across a little table of a cafe with the infamous radio demon for dinner is the last thing that would have been imagined in your life.

“So my dearest! I want to know everything about you and what makes you tick” Closing your new pocket mirror you glance at him before going to pick at your clothes,  the bunny painted in red stares at you with a charming look in his eye. 

“Alastor, you're going all out for a person like me. But what is it that you want.” curiosity might have killed the cat but in hell its survival of the fittest. Between you and him, that's an easy feat for you but survival in getting higher in the food chain? Well that's some grounds you need to work on. 

“ Heavens me, or should I say hells me? HA can't a guy get to know another fella?” His burgundy pinstripe suit made your weakness to elegant things. In your heart you are truly someone that cannot be so easily deterred by another. If leaving the Morningstar household didnt prove it. Maybe working on social skills might be the first thing to work on. 

“Who are you kidding? What?! Did you want to talk to my dad? Sorry to best your bubble but i'm making a nam-”

“Hush now” he quipped in “now what are you assuming on today” taking out a pocket watch from his top pocket. The ticking being comically loud. Being in hell should have you used to an odd face every once in a while. But looking at him felt like a lost cartoon. “As ive said before, i know nothing about you. You've just got a nifty little… look to you”  There goes his smile again. It's so shameless.

“Yeah right” Being hell royalty should've put your name towards everyone that walks this street. 

“Sorry doll face, having such a smooth face in this area of town might just be the most interesting piece of plot in these parts” you let out a sudden hitch in your breath. Does he actually not know anything about you? Maybe the overlord title might be a lot harder than intended. “Now doll you're never fully dressed without a smile, now play nice” The grimace on your face might’ve just drowned in your thoughts hearing him say that. 

You couldn't make sense of his statement. An earthborn being known to you and probably the purest kind of entertainment in hell. Though if he didnt even know who you were then maybe this could be a better opportunity in the end. No phony respect. Something that would actually make a difference to yourself. Smoothing your expression into soft passiveness. 

“Say there, bunny tail, how about you and I take a stroll down the boulevard and paint the town red” 

 “Aren't you a tough nut to crack? Well who am I to deny a bona fide high roller”

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #helluva boss x reader #helluva boss #alastor x reader #alastor hartfelt #charlie morningstar #stolas x reader #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel lilith #angeldust x reader #hazbin hotel husk #nifty #hazbin hotel vox #angel dust x reader #reader insert #hazbin hotel adam #helluva blitzo #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin alastor #hazbin angel dust #hazbin charlie #hazbin art #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel fanart #hazbin fanart #sir pentious #moxie helluva boss #stolas helluva boss #helluva fizzarolli

[heartpiratedrabbles]

Kids Anger Part 3

Part 1 Part 2 ~ Part 4

Kid X Fem Reader X Killer

Kid hasn’t been the same since finding you. He hasn’t even been his normal angry self. It’s like he’s become a shell of who he was and Killer can’t seem to snap him out of it. Killer was the one to break down you cell door and pick up your limp body, yelling at Kid the entire time to snap out of it. It wasn’t until the room was empty and Kid had realized he was staring at the stained floor that he started moving again.

        The cell was clearly your torture chamber, the thought of someone hurting you sent him into a blinding rage. He knew Killer had taken you so he could wreck as much havoc as he wanted without care. He doesn’t remember much of what happened after Killer had taken you away, but he does know that the entire crews Bounties had gone up after they had left the island.

        Killer gripping you limp body on the other hand rushed to get you back to the ship, there was no way anyone on this island would dare to treat you, especially not after hearing the destruction that had started behind him. The Navy base had been made of metal and steel and he could hear Kid using his power to decimate the area. But that wasn’t his concern right now, you had started to turn cold.

        Jumping back onto the ship he ran towards the room they deemed the infirmary. Killer had thought it overkill to have an entire room dedicated to medicine and first aid when you had first come aboard but he couldn’t be more glad that you had been insistent on the semi-sterilized room. He passed Hip on his way in who had quickly followed them to help with whatever injuries you had.

        No one on board was a skilled doctor, everyone knew basic first aid and a couple knew how to stitch or tourniquets a limb good enough. Hip by far was the most qualified to be called the ships doctor but even that was a stretch, sure she had been the one to cauterize Kids arm when it had been ripped off but it was still a far cry from being knowledge or skilled.

        None the Less she gets to work closing up your wounds, she starts by stopping blood flow to your shoulder, a tight tourniquet, to make sure the infection doesn’t spread further. Taking her time to slowly look at the wound before she realizes the Bullets still in and goes to fish it out.

        Your body, while cold, was covered in sweat and every movement and prod made you face slightly contort, a good sign in Killers mind as he got more supplies out to be used. He quickly walked out to inform everyone to be prepared to leave the second Kid gets back before going back in to assist Hip.

        As he walks in he sees her pour whiskey into the wound and sees you flinch violently at the sudden pain. Despite being on the verge of death it seems you still have some fight left in you. Hip demands Killer help flip you over and without a thought he does so. Hip gasps at the deep gashes littering you back, and what skin left stained a deep purple almost black. Killer is the first one to start treating your back as Hip gets her bearings again, grabbing a needle and some thread to go in after Killer disinfects the wounds.

~~~

        Kid had come back after night had fallen, passing out the second he gets on deck, and just as soon as he passes out the rest of the crew is working at leaving the hidden cove. Killer could feel the vessel move and he was almost glad it had taken Kid this long to get back, there were more injuries than he had thought and it had been a couple hours since they started working on you.

        It was only once the night became the darkest that they had finished bandaging you up, your breathing shallow still. The rest of the crew seemed relieved that Kid and Killers mission to retrieve you had been a success but it became all the more worrisome when Hip came out of the room covered in blood and exhausted.

        She’s the one that set up a schedule to make sure you were never alone. And as much as Killer wanted to move you to an actual bed, he was afraid to move you. He muttered under his breathe, begging you to just wake up, this had been hard enough when he went through it with Kid. But he didn’t have the reassurance he had back then, he believed Kid would make it through his ordeal, he was only missing an arm, you on the other hand… You were weaker than them, and your injuries seemed so much more severe.

        As he’s leaning over you, not even daring to hold your hand in fear of harming you more, the door opens and shuts. A small huff and creaking of chairs lets the blonde man know that the other was finally there. “She’s alive” Kid whispers, his voice slightly wavering. Killer feels the red-head shake slightly and leans on him.

        “Hip thinks we should amputate her arm” Killer says, his voice weak and dry, “She. The infection, she thinks its too much” The bandages on you were already slightly dirty, and no doubt they’d be changing them again soon.

        Kid lets out a weak chuckle, “We could twin.” Killer also seemed to let out an amused huff at the idea. Neither of them looked at each other and silence feel upon them as they both watched you chest slightly move with your labored breathing.

~~~

        It’s been a week and you didn’t show signs of getting better, but you also didn’t show signs of getting worse. You were on the constant edge of Life and Death but for the most part you had seemed stable. Kid spent his days silent, unusual for how he normally was. His only direction given to the crew was to go someplace where there was a doctor, any other interaction was from the rambunctious crew checking to make sure he was alright himself, and eating.

        Killer had taken it upon himself to be in charge of changing your bandages, taking extra time to check every wound and using more alcohol to disinfect anything he deemed dirty, lightly dabbing at anything that had continued to bleed or somehow re-opened. Kid could barely watch, he hated this, he hated you, he hated how weak you had become. Where was his feisty little mouse? The one that wasn’t afraid to hit him even if you knew it would hurt him. Laying in front of him was an empty shell that he was terrified to touch, he just wanted you back.

        At some point through out the week Kid had convinced Killer to move you to an actual bed, to their bed. It didn’t matter that they’d have to change sheets often to keep them clean for you, nor did it matter that it meant neither of them had a bed to lay on, both of them would rather sleep on the floor before making you any more uncomfortable.

        Quincy would come often enough with fluids and somehow got you to drink by holding your nose shut, the first time she had done it Kid nearly attacked her, thinking she was trying to suffocate you. But once the misunderstanding was resolved He’d reluctantly sit back and watch you swallow in order to gasp for air. Killer had assumed it was a good sign.

        It wasn’t until Kid had finally decided to lightly grip your hand that a moan had left your lips. Killer had jumped from his chair hearing it and joined you two on the other side of the bed. A small squeeze to Kids hand had made him reinvigorated and nearly screaming for you to wake up only for Killer to hit his head to be more quiet.

        But just as quickly as you had given them both hope, you had sent them over the edge when you broke out into a fever. Your brows furrowing as you took a turn for the worse. Kid had gotten a part of his soul back and went running out, demanding they reach an island by the morning and Killer took to work to wipe you down of sweat, changing your bandages as often as the sweat soaked through them.

        Despite it all the two had become exhausted and it was Hip who had decided to lock them out of their own room, demanding they get some sleep as she looked over you for the night. Begrudgingly, they both agreed, opting to not break the door open and instead heading to the rec room where there were some hammocks and a couch.

        As they both got situated, Killer on the couch and Kid in a hammock, a foot placed on the ground the silence overwhelmed them. “What if.” Kid started, staring at the ceiling, “What if she doesn’t wake up?” Killer could hear how broken Kid was, “All because I couldn’t shut myself up-“ Silence filled the air as Kid refused to let a sob out, “and didn’t realize when our mouse was hurt.”

Killer stayed silent, not wanting to reveal his own emotions, but instead got up and somehow squeezed himself into the already occupied hammock. Kid seemed to breathe in, holding his breathe for a second before laughing a bit, “We’re not kids anymore Killer- We don’t fit like this” Moving slightly to try and get more comfortable.

“I can leave if you wan-“

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Kid's voice was demanding yet weak as he placed his head on Killer's chest.

#Kid x Reader X Killer #One Piece #Kid #Killer #Angst #Part 3 #One Piece X Reader

[the-grimm-writer]

Dabi with a darling who's obsessed with her art, her art being ballet

Cue vantom of the opera music ballet addition.

Also, I'm genuinely so sorry this took so long. I'm getting better at answering requests, I swear 😭😭😭

Mdni

Tw: stalking, paranoia, mentions of unhealthy habits, kidnapping.

You were used to people staring at you. Their eyes glued to you with pure admiration as you gracefully glided across the stage, moving your body in ways that took you years to master.

But this felt different. You felt someone's eyes burning into you with such intensity that any normal person would've broken down from it. Yet if you were one to break, you would've never made it very far. So you continued your performance like chills weren't running down your spine.

Heroes were hard to please. The world's top elite, coming to the theater to watch you, dressed in their finest night apparel. But the moment you started, all their doubts would wash away, watching silently with fascination once the music started.

The crowd broke into applause once you finished your dance, standing up and yelling their praise. It always made those long, painful nights of practice worth it.

As you bowed, you looked up to the audience, your blood running cold as you saw bright blue eyes from the back, hiding away from everyone else. Like a ghost, only you could see.

By the time you get down to greet the audience and discuss your performance, the man with the glowing eyes is nowhere to be scene. You don't know why you look for him, going past the darkest part of the theater and peaking in to see if he's still there, watching you.

Even your walk is elegant, your posture is perfect, back straight, and head held up high. Your voice was soft and feminine as you spoke to the people as they congratulated you.

"That was a stunning performance, my dear!" A tall, balding man with round, thick rimmed glasses eagerly shook your hand, yet you could tell by his crisp black suit and the beautiful younger woman that looked to be in her mid twenties or early thirties that stood by his side looking at you that he obviously had money. "When will you be performing again?"

"I'm here every night, thank you very much."

You smiled like he didn't give you the creeps. One thing your master didn't have to teach you but were thankful that he did. How to keep your admirers happy while maintaining a distance from them.

It continued on and on. You knew most people who attended the theater were wealthy, but you didn't care. You had all you wanted right now. So even as they introduced themselves, you didn't bother to remember their names. Always changing the topic if one got too bold with you.

A dancer's career was like a star, your balletmaster used to tell you. Shine too bright, and it would burn out quickly.

That's what you liked about it being busy, not being able to stay and talk to one person for too long. So whenever someone made you uncomfortable, you easily excused yourself and moved on to the next person. Sometimes, it would last for hours until you were finally able to leave.

There was a continuous cycle in your job. After you perform, you'd go to bed, get showered then something to eat, and then rush back to the studio in the early morning to practice. It was your favorite time to do it. When the sun was on the verge of rising and it was still dark outside. You could practice in peace with no prying eyes to judge you.

Turning the lights on, you walked onto the stage, dressed in your practice outfit. Skin tight nude colored leggings, a black leotard with a small tutu connected to it, and pointe shoes you just recently replaced and broke in. Your hair up in a tight bun, completely out of your face.

Taking a deep breath, you stood on the center stage and got in position, pretending like it was an actual performance as you danced.

It was always something you reminded yourself of when you got the lead role in dances. And whenever you didn't get what you were striving for and it felt like your world was going to come crashing down.

Yet still, you would dance until your feet bled and you physically couldn't anymore. It was painful yet an addicting feeling each time you overcame a boundary you once had and turned it into a new move you mastered.

"Why did you stop?"

Spinning around, you were about to stop until you collided with a person. You were about to apologize, thinking it was one of the other performers or the janitor until he spoke up.

You gasped in shock, turning around and stepping back from him. Those cerulean eyes were something you could never forget. Ever since that night.

"It's you..." Fear twisted in your stomach as you looked at him.

He chuckled at this, casually stepping forward towards you. "I knew you'd recognize me."

"Dabi..." You said breathlessly. It wasn't difficult to know who he was when he was always on the news. Heroes' warning is to be on the lookout for a deadly villain litered in patched scars and black hair. He smirked, knowing you'd seen him before.

"The theater is usually the last place I'd hide in. Too many witnesses." He stepped forward, making you go back. "But those idiots didn't even notice me. Not that I could blame them. That was quite the performance you put on."

You backed away, and he could see in your costume that your body was stiff as a board. Trained to have perfect posture even when just having a discussion with someone.

"Those fools don't deserve you, you know." He spoke up, his voice low and raspy. "They'll do what they do with everyone that has a talent. They'll make you dance like a puppet until you break."

You were stiff as you stood there, watching him circle around you on the stage. "I know what I signed up for," you said softly.

His eyes narrowed. "Then you're just as foolish as they are."

"It's ironic, you know," Dabi chuckled darkly as he stood behind you, placing his hands on your waist. "My father... he always strived for perfection. But even his most precious creation isn't enough for him."

You didn't blink an eye at his cold tone. Used to getting degraded and talked down to whenever you messed up even the slightest in front of your master and the instructors. So brutally harsh it could make even the villains with the blackest of hearts cry.

"Surely you understand," you argued back. "To love something so much, you'll continue to do it even if it kills you."

Though you didn't have a strong or flashy quirk, you made it up in your abilities in ballet. Pouring your heart and soul into your performances so even the untrained eye would be able to tell you aere the best at what you did.

You touched him like the fire that was dancing in his veins. The thing that consumed him aside from his needs for vengeance. Though he knew that obsession ran deep in his genetics. It was just something he never thought would hit him until that night he first saw you.

"That's because perfection doesn't exist."

His breath hit the shell of your ear, hot just like the rest of him, yet it sent shivers down your spine. "Yet here it is in the form of a little dancer."

You could tell how bitter it made him. You understood the feeling well. Every ballerina knew how it felt to be rejected and pushed to the side whenever a younger, prettier dancer came in and took the place they spent years working to get.

"Were you ever warned?" He mused. "Some hero or fuckin rich pig with too much time on his hands could ever use their power and money to snatch you up?"

Of course you were, and you hesitantly nodded your head. Nobody ever thought it would happen to them until it actually did. Hell, Dabi bet his mother thought she'd never wind up in an arranged marriage with his father, abused and locked away in an institution after making her have four children with him.

"I'm my father's son, after all." His scarred hand ran down your smooth cheek, down your chin until it wrapped around your throat and pinned you against him, his other arm snaking around your waist. "Men like us, when we see something beautiful, we have to own it, keep it for ourselves."

"You don't have to be like him." You protested, your heart racing in fear. Dread filled you at the thought of him taking away everything you spent your whole life working for.

"And you don't have to be a dancer." He retorted. "Sometimes we don't have a choice in life (Y/n). Now you're coming with me."

You tried to pull away despite his hand wrapped firmly around your throat, threatening you. "No! You can't do this! I have to perform tonight. I have to-"

"This is a lovely place," he cute you off. "Something even I could appreciate." His grip on your neck tightened as he held his other hand out, making you watch as bright blue fire appeared out of his hand. "Such a rich history. It would be a shame if it all went down in flames."

You weakly nodded your head, bursting into tears as you looked at the stage, the theater, your home on last time as he let his flame die out. He picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. His strong arm held you in place with ease as he walked away.

"Don't worry," he said softly, his smile wide and twisted as you cried. "You can still dance for me."

#yandere dabi #yandere dabi x reader #yandere touya #yandere touya todoroki #yandere touya x reader #yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere mha #yandere mha x reader #yandere my hero academia x reader #yandere my hero academia #yandere #yandere x y/n #yandere drabble #yandere fic #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere writing

[futureman]

love like you

pairing: mike schmidt x gn!reader

summary: mike helps you through a rough patch by reminding you of the many, many reasons he loves you

warnings: established relationship, angst, comfort, mentions of depression, anxiety & panic attacks, self-doubt, intrusive thoughts

word count: 2.1k

"Why do you love me?"

You ask the question so quietly, Mike almost misses it over the movie playing in the background. At first, he's not sure how to respond—or at the very least, where to begin.

You've never asked him that before, and he'd never given it much thought if he's being totally honest. He assumed you hadn't, either. It's just something he feels.

It's something he's always felt, gradually building since the day you led his sister back to him after she'd wandered off in the supermarket. He took one look at you, your kind eyes and patient smile, and asked you on a date without a second thought. That's what it's like to love you—instinctual.

He glances away from the TV and looks down at you curiously. Your head is nestled on his lap, eyes already locked on his and filled with apprehension he can't even begin to understand. There are a thousand and one reasons to love you; don't you realize that? He'd tell you every one if you asked.

He loves you because you're always there, through the late-night shifts and nightmares, helping him parent a child you shouldn't have to be responsible for at such a young age. You confiscate his controller every time he tries to smash it in a fit of rage, beating whatever boss he'd been fighting for hours like a champ. He thinks you're so fucking cool.

And you understand him like no one else ever has, so attentive and always willing to try. You kiss away his fears, strip him bare, unmask him. Allow him to seek shelter inside you, ride him to a mind-numbing release when his darkest thoughts threaten to consume him.

You hold him when he wants to give up, when the weight of the world is too much and persevering is too hard. The familiar, soothing tone of your voice reminds him to breathe, to tune out the little things and remember that there's still good to be found in life.

It's everything you do and everything you are. That's why he loves you.

But before he can say anything at all, your face screws up and your bottom lip begins to tremble. His chest immediately tightens.

"Woah, hey. It's okay," he murmurs, keeping you grounded in the present despite his rising panic. "You're okay."

You're prone to spiraling, but after years together, he knows the best way to mitigate it is to stay calm. Regardless of the raging storm in your head, you're safe with him, warm and dry at home on your couch.

He caresses your cheek, then trails up to scrub at the crinkle in your forehead. "What's going on up there?"

"Nothing. It's—really, it's nothing. I'm sorry, I don't know why I asked you that," you shake your head, averting your gaze elsewhere. But after a moment, your eyes snap back to his, and there's so much pain there, he can almost feel it.

"No, it's...it's everything. My brain won't shut up, and it's mean and loud, and I just—," you pause, clenching your jaw in frustration. "I just don't get it. Of everyone you could've been with, why me? I can't understand why you chose me."

The question feels like a slap in the face. Like he had so many choices and only picked you based on some predetermined criteria of what someone should want in a partner. He didn't just pull your name out of a bowl, either. You chose each other.

He wracks his brain to figure out what he could've said or done to make you believe otherwise, but then remembers this isn't about him. He tries again to explain all of the reasons he wanted to before, to tell you that the unrelenting thoughts ping-ponging in your head are wrong, but you continue on, unraveling before his eyes.

"I'm a shitty person. I'm selfish and useless, and all I do is make everyone around me unhappy. There's always a crisis, I'm always sad. And I always make everything about me," you tell him, getting angrier by the second. "Ugly, worthless, selfish, selfish. I’m a fucking burden. You know, I—I just keep waiting for you to figure it out and leave. To get sick of this...of me."

He listens helplessly as you tear yourself apart, the ache in his chest intensifying the worse your verbal barrage becomes. He knows he can't just reassure away your insecurities or magically heal your trauma, no matter how badly he wants to. But he also can't let this go on any longer.

"Stop," he says softly, cutting you off. Hearing the full extent of your criticism is agonizing, and if it's hurting him this much, he hates to think what you must be feeling. "None of that is true. I think...I hope, deep down, you know that."

The broken look you give him tells him you don't, or maybe that you can't, at least not right now. You open your mouth to retort, but he shakes his head and hauls you up into his arms. He holds you close as you start to tremble, guiding you to rest your cheek on his shoulder.

"There's nothing shitty about you, alright? You're the least selfish person I've ever met. Kinda wish you were so you'd stop prioritizing us over yourself all the time," he murmurs into your hair. "And you're fucking gorgeous. I don't want to hear you say any of that ever again."

He tilts his head to meet your eyes. "Got it?"

You shake your head, turning to hide your face in the crook of his neck. He sighs. He just can't fathom how you could possibly look at yourself and not see what he and Abby do. But then again, he might understand more than he'd like to admit.

Everything you've told him tonight feels jarringly familiar. The self-hatred, the unending criticism—he wallows in those thoughts all the time and knows better than anyone that they'll eat you alive if you bottle them up for too long.

He hates that you have to suffer through this just because brain chemistry is indiscriminately cruel. It's unfair. He, at the very least, deserves it.

Except, that's not actually true, is it? And if your roles were reversed, you'd remind him as many times as it takes for him to believe it. You'd tell him that he's perfect exactly the way he is. That he's a good parent, brother, and partner, and regardless of all of the shit life has thrown his way, he's still a good person that isn't defined by his lowest moments.

So, he'll do the same for you.

He shifts you on his lap so you're face-to-face, your legs bracketing his thighs, and cups your cheeks to keep your attention on him. He's not letting you hide anymore. He needs you to hear what he has to say and trust that he'd never lie to you.

"You're not worthless or useless or anything else your brain is telling you right now. Okay? You're perfect," he says quietly, stroking your cheek. "I've always thought you were perfect, from the moment I met you."

Doubt clouds your expression. "I don't believe you."

"Why would I lie to you?"

"B-because that's what you're supposed to say when you're trying to make someone feel better," you reply shakily.

Ouch. He hadn’t expected that answer. It stings that you'd think so little of him, especially after all this time. He feels like he’s grasping at straws now, but everything he wants to say is just a variation of how highly he sees you. It’s all equally true, but if you can’t accept that, then what else can he do?

"Then, tell me what you need to hear right now. Tell me how to help you through this, because I love you so fucking much, and I will do anything," he pleads, his frustration bleeding through despite how hard he tries to suppress it.

It’s starting to affect you. You’re shaking like a leaf, and he can tell you want to run away, but instead of letting you go, he wraps his arms around you as carefully as he can to keep you from leaving. He doesn't want to force you to face this. He just needs you to stop hurting yourself. Your face crumples, and he feels his own do the same.

"I don't know. Probably nothing," you tell him, voice cracking. "Look, we don't have to talk about it anymore. I'm sorry for bringing it up in the first place. Can we just go back to watching the movie? I’ll rewind it—“

But Mike doesn't want to let this go. Even if he should, even though you're asking—he's determined to make sure you go to bed tonight knowing how loved you are. His next words come out harsher than he wants them to, but he’s getting desperate. He’s only human.

"Fine. You want the truth? Being with you is hard. It's one of the hardest things I've ever done, and sometimes, it hurts like hell," he starts. Your expression morphs from sad to devastated, and he feels terrible for upsetting you, but he has to say this for both of your sakes.

"But that's what makes it worth it. I've never felt this way about anyone, probably never will again. Not because it's easy; because it's you. Sure, no one's perfect, but you're about as close as it gets. You're it for me.”

He truly believes that. Maybe you do, too. The tension in your body is beginning to bleed away, and you slowly sag against him, tucking yourself into his chest. He catches a glimpse of your face as you melt into him, and for the first time tonight, you look hopeful. Nuzzling into your hair, he continues.

"I can't imagine a life without you anymore. It's like you're part of me now, maybe even the best parts, and I fill in the gaps in between. We just…figured it out at some point. Together.” He’s starting to ramble, but he’s too invested to stop. Judging by the fact that you haven’t interrupted him or tried to intervene, it doesn’t seem like you want him to, either.

“Even the small shit other couples fight about. Like the dishes—you hate doing those because digging the silverware out of the sink grosses you out, so I do it. And you fold the laundry because I always burn myself taking the clothes out of the dryer. We talk shit out. We try."

He squeezes you a little tighter. “Maybe those seem like shitty reasons to love someone, but they’re real. Just as real as what I told you before," he says softly, pausing to kiss the top of your head. "You're beautiful. You're kind and passionate, and I’m just the lucky guy that gets to be with you. I’ll be here as long as you want me.”

When he finally finishes, he’s all but gasping for air. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, and he’s breathing so heavily, he feels like he just ran a marathon. But it’s worth it to see the look on your face as you peer up at him, cautious but peaceful.

“How could I not want you?” you whisper, splaying your hand across his chest, just below his collarbone. You're feeling his heartbeat.

"I've been asking you that all damn night," he chuckles. Cradling your head in his palm, he swipes away a few stray tears that fall with the next flutter of your lashes. "So, did I answer your question or should I keep going? Because seriously, I can keep going—"

You snort, effectively cutting him off, then give him a wry smile. The relief he feels is palpable.

“You know, I really don’t deserve you," you murmur as you lean up to kiss the underside of his jaw. When your lips linger, he ducks down to press his against yours, kissing you deeply and pouring in everything left unsaid.

"Sure, you do," he says kindly, but with finality. Now that the adrenaline has worn off, you're both starting to look as tired as you feel. But more than that, he's grateful; to have you in his life and to be able to comfort you when you need it most. You taught him that. "And I think we both deserve some sleepytime tea and a really soft blanket...if Abby didn't already steal it off our bed."

Your face lights up, and it's as if he solved all of the world's problems with that one simple offering. It's the same look you give him when he tells you he loves you. The corners of your eyes crinkle as you say it back.

"I love you, too."

thanks for reading!

divider by @saradika-graphics

a/n: this was a homework assignment from my therapist 💀 oops

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt angst #mike schmidt #fnaf fanfic #fnaf imagine #fnaf movie #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson fanfic #josh hutcherson #jhutch

[spdrvyn]

im begging for miguel x reader where he’s sick/tired/woke up from a nightmare and is in desperate need of shooting. so she takes care of him - pure domestic contentment- grooming him/washing/shaving/brushing hair/towel drying/changing clothes (and socks 🥺)/feeding him - doing everything to relax him and make him feel loved

solace in your sweetness

summary: in the deep trenches of the night, miguel wakes up due to night terrors and you're very deadset on comforting him. no matter how many times he denies you that.

tags: hurt/comfort. very sweet and fluffy. reader isn't a spider-person. fem!reader.

notes: i love this request so so much, i have been ITCHING to do it. thank you so much for requesting, i hope you enjoy reading this one!

Miguel didn't really have nightmares when he was younger. On the occasion that Gabe would bother him to watch a scary movie, there would be instances where he had them, but it wasn't a regular occurence. How naïve was he when he thought that he'd be able to leave those behind in his youth?

It started simple, he would be in the barren, empty streets of Nueva York. Before he would slowly watch every thing dissolve around him, glitch by glitch, pixel by pixel, unable to do anything but to just stand there, before he fell into the abyss and woke up.

The darkest part of his mind had always managed to make the scenario more horrifying, another time it was zombies, another time it was zombies again, but of only Gabriella. There was even a version where he was being chased by the other dead version of himself. He consulted many articles, read and bought a lot of books, and even tried meditating, but none of it worked so he just decided to live with it for a while. It wasn't like they happened every night, no big deal.

Though, it was a big deal to you. Which was his true fear, he didn't want you to fawn over something so trivial. He didn't want you to go out of your way to take care of him, despite how much it would fill the big, gaping hole in his heart.

So when he jolts awake from another night terror, he keeps himself as quiet as possible. He slowly looked over to the side of your bed, relieved to see that you were still in a peaceful sleep. He shifts silently and keeps his footsteps light as he makes his way over to the kitchen for some tea. The calming, minty aroma sweeped his senses, but it'd be better to work right now instead of relax.

He went back to the bedroom, setting the teacup down on the bedside before pulling out a small tablet. He winced as it opened, the brightness of it hurting his eyes even with glasses on. After lowering it, he immediately goes to rifle through his files.

That is until he felt the weight of your head on his shoulders, you looked up at him with a frown. "You're working."

"I am," Miguel spoke like he was caught with a hand in the cookie jar. As embarrassed as he was, it was too late. You should probably be going back to sleep, he remembered that you also had work early tomorrow. "I just got thirsty, go back to sleep, cariño."

A bald-faced lie, would you believe it or would you not? Your brows furrowed and your pout deepened, it made Miguel's palms sweat. Moments like these forced him to think if you really did have superpowers, there were too many instances where it seemed like you read his mind word for word.

"Why are you lying to me, Miguel?" Shock. It was his face, wasn't it? "Did you have any another nightmare? Why didn't you wake me up?"

Miguel's pride had shattered, you were too good at this. A little more and you'd be unmasking every single villain in the city. "You need to be up early, I just didn't want to ruin your beauty sleep." He closed his files and turned off his tablet, this was his fate now.

You all but groaned at his remark, kicking the bedsheets off of your body before stamping out of the bedroom. "Where are you-"

"Stay there, don't move an inch." He didn't want to incur God's wrath, so he obeys. Crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back against the pillows, his smell picked up on the scent of food being freshly cooked. He couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was, but by the lord, it smelled delicious.

Miguel was left there to wait for a while, this sort of reminded him of his younger days too, granted a lot more blissful. There were times when he was younger where Gabe had nightmares too, he'd come knocking on Miguel's door, asking if he could stay there for a while or if he could play video games with him.

To which Miguel would begrudgingly agree, but he normally tried to keep Gabe as uninterested in whatever they were doing as possible so that he could fall asleep already. This usually resulted in him falling asleep then Miguel having to sleep on the couch, but it was whatever. I mean, he only stopped doing that at the young age of 11.

So now being the one taken care of, it made Miguel feel like there was an outside force tipping the scales. After being a caretaker, one way or another, his whole life, having you step in and take him for a breather was like seeing a fish head on a lion's body.

You came back soon enough with a plate and spoon in hand, it was made clear to Miguel exactly what you were cooking. Tomato sauce with meatballs, you diced a small bit of the beef with the spoon before scooping some soup up, bringing it close to his mouth. "Ahhh,"

"I can eat on my—"

"Ahhhhh."

"For shock's sake—" he quickly took a bite, his eyes lit up as he swallowed. "It's good."

You smiled knowingly, finally allowing him to feed himself as you handed him the plate. "I know," then your expression hardened. "I'd like to talk to you about what you dreamt about, if that's okay with you." Miguel sighed, reaching over to the bedside to take a long sip of his tea.

His heart told him that it was perfectly fine for you to know about what was troubling him for so long now, but his mind, his rationale, told him to shut his trap about anything that could cause you any sort of worry or distress. When he doesn't respond to you after another moment, you lean in closer.

"Miguel, I'm always going to worry about you." You whispered, "That's just how I am, but it's because I love you. I love you so much that I can feel how much you're hurting even when you're trying to hide it from me."

"I love you too," he closed the gap to press a kiss to the crease on your forehead, you released a short breath. "I just- I don't know how to say it, I guess."

You placed a hand on his chest, "I can put the pieces together, I just want you to get this off your chest." He wished he had the ability to deny you, you're his weakness, especially when you bat your eyelashes and look at him so sweetly like you have all the love in the world to give.

He tells you as much as he can about his dream, it's all a mess. There were many parts that he wished he could just go back and erase, he didn't even want to go through with this idea in the first place. But you were so... understanding of him, it felt creepy. Not creepy, that wasn't the right word, but it was unsettling.

Being comforted by someone else always made Miguel feel like the other person had a 'holier than thou' attitude, that or he was horribly pitied to the point where he didn't want to keep opening up anymore. You carried none of those qualities, you simply nodded, listened in pure silence, but you'd chime in with some remarks every now and again. He doesn't know how he got so lucky with you.

You gave him some advice. Miguel's experiences were gut-wrenching which resulted to his night terrors, but you could share the sentiment. To some degree, at least. The advice was to just talk about it, letting that feeling build over time and dreading the next time you fall asleep would result to more casualties in the long run. And that if he had no other people to turn to, you were the first on his roster (granted he'd talk to you first anyway, but that's besides the point).

After putting away his empty plate, you joined him in bed again, it's probably still very late into the night, only three hours until you get up for work, but you didn't mind as long as you got to spend it with Miguel. However he wishes to.

The feeling of yours lips on his forehead, face nuzzled into his hair while your fingers drew shapes into his back.

The way he wrapped his arms around your hips, slotting one of his legs in between yours, and the sound of your heartbeat.

He falls into a blissful sleep, knowing you will protect him from the horrors that lurk in the shadows. For once in his life, Miguel has been taken care of and he's so glad that it's you.

#spiderman: across the spiderverse #across the spiderverse #spiderverse #atsv #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o’hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #fluff #hurt/comfort

[noisycroissant]

"It's you..."

Astarion x Reader

She was one of those marks that broke his chipped heart. The trusting ones, the doe-eyed ones who looked at him like he hung the stars in the sky. It hurt every minute he spent with her knowing that he was simply leading her to a fate worse than death.

He remembered the look in her eyes when they took her away with the others at the party where they lured all their marks to once a month. He dreamed of that look for years only to wake up to find himself shaking, face wet with tears. He didn't want to keep doing this, but another year of being confined and tortured and starved with no hopes of escape, freedom or otherwise...no, he couldn't survive that. Not again.

But then, he saw her again. He was sure it was his fragile mind playing tricks on him. Constant torture can do that you, y'know. But then he saw her again. The same hair. Skin paler though. And then he heard her voice.

"Astarion?"

When he heard his name in that voice again, his heart dropped to the pits of his stomach. He'd do anything, beg at her feet, grovel for forgiveness, anything to not hear that tone in her voice.

"I am angry for what you did to me. To my life. But I also understand why... I've had to do it myself."

I've had to do it myself.

If he ever had thoughts of murdering Cazador in the darkest ways possible, those thoughts just became a million times darker.

"Where you here all these years? I never saw you. I thought I knew every turned spawn in the palace."

"I was locked up for "lack of respect" and "till I learnt what was good for me "."

He knew what that meant. Lashes, pliers, blood, pain, hunger, tears.

Desperate prayers falling on deaf ears.

"I'm.. I don't deserve to say sorry. You'd have been... anywhere but here..if it weren't for me."

"I know. But you did what you did to survive. I don't begrudge you for that. I had enough time in that cell to know that choice does not live in these walls."

*******

And that's how it began. That was how hope came back into two people's lives. How it grew and bloomed with each passing look, each time fingers brushed while walking across hallways, each time a secret letter was found under a pillow.

After 150 years, Astarion dared to dream.

He would always curse himself when he remembered that night. It had taken them almost a year to plan, another year to talk courage into themselves to go through with it.

He remembered how soft her hands were when he held them as they ran through shadows.

Freedom. It was so close. Just a breath away.

And in the blink of an eye, it was gone.

Of course. What had he been thinking? They'd never be free. Not as long as that monster had a leash on them.

"Don't let them see each other, Godey. But make sure they hear."

Astarion remembers the day his heart finally crumbled to ash.

*******

Decades later, when he was finally let out again, the very first night he goes to the highest roof he could find in Baldur's Gate. And he sat there. Waiting for the sun. The only way he could be free of this hellish life. The only way he could forget the sins.

His skin prickled and he cried as the sky turned pink.

The next thing he remembers is waking up on a beach with a unholy squirming in his eye. A crashed ship, fire and smoke bellowing. Intellect devourers running amok. But he was out in the sun and it didn't burn. It didn't hurt.

The confusion was enough to drive him mad. 200 years of rage and pain, and he finally had a chance to end it. But even that was taken from him.

He heard footsteps and chatter. Hand goes to his dagger naturally. But then he hears a voice.

Her voice.

This must be the tenth circle of hell, he tells himself. This is where depraved sinners like him go to. Where they're tortured for eternity with the things they'll never see again.

Like the sun.

Or her.

But hope survives in the darkest of hells.

And it had found him again.

"Astarion?"

#astarion #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion x you #baldur's gate astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 tav #bg3 spoilers #bg3 cazador #cazador szarr #astarion smut #astarion spoilers #astarion x tav #astarion x mc #astarion x fem reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x female reader

[omiiomiaaus]

LET YOU GO | Toji Fushiguro

Emotionally unavailable Toji x reader Drabble

Angst, hurt no comfort lol, Toji finks you deserve betta than what he can giv ya. Broke asf Toji, umm he’s like 33 and you’re like 25, megumi is like 9 or something idk whatever makes sense I guess lol. she/her pronouns used, Not proofread bc I’m lazy. Short asf and mid asf

The only thing Toji was good at was keeping to himself and making you feel like you would never be fully a part of his life.

“you and me?” he questioned. “There is no you and me, baby.”

the only thing you could do is hold in your tears, because Toji Fushiguro will never let you break down his walls. He was completely un reachable, and he wasn’t about to let you make him vulnerable to his own feelings, or so he thought.

“You’re just wasting your time, sweetheart.” He continues, having audacity to still call you pet names. The same ones he said when he was sweet talking you into his bed.

“Toji, why can’t you just let me be there for you?” You said, a futile attempt to get him to listen to you. “You sound desperate baby, it’s not cute.”

“Stop it.. stop being so mean, I don’t get it.. I do everything for you, why can’t you just..” you couldn’t even finish your sentence, you didn’t want to give up on him but at this point you were just making a fool of yourself in front of him.

“Why can’t I just what? Love you? Why can’t you just open your eyes and realize I’m not the kind of guy who’s gonna settle down with a girl who’s got her whole life ahead of her.” He spat out, looking down at you with disbelief. “I got no job, I got a kid that’s almost half your age, and a shitty apartment with my mattress on the floor… you want that?”

The look in his eyes made you feel inferior, his gaze judging your soul. “Stop trying to make me hate you.. when did things go wrong? Why are you pushing me away?” You asked, hoping to get through to him.

“You deserve a man who’ll give you what you need. I got nothing going for me, what makes you think I’ll be good to you?” He said, softly this time. He looked away, shaking his head and letting out a soft sigh. “You think I won’t love you because you have nothing to your name?” You asked. It hurt to think he thought of you so superficially.

“It’s not about you loving me, it’s about me being good enough.” He yelled, immediately going back to his stoic nature.

“Toji don’t you get it?” You yelled back at him.

“I’ll love you no matter what! I don’t care if you have nothing, I don’t care if I have to live in the darkest corner of the world… I love you, I need you and I want to have you with me always!” You felt like your heart couldn’t take much more rejection. But you realized that Toji was slowly cracking. He went from pushing you away for no reason, finally showing his true concerns.

“Please…” you said, barely above a whisper.

“It’s for your own good” he said while turning his back to you, getting ready to walk away and out of your life. Something caused you to jump up and hold on to him when he started to leave.

“Wait Toji please don’t leave!” You yelled, voice desperate. You held on to him so tight. This isn’t how you want to remember him, you wanted to remember the Toji that reciprocated your affection.

He pulled his arm out your grip forcefully, causing you to stumble back a little bit.

“What about megumi? He needs me!” You plead again, trying to find anything to get him to let you stay in his life. He turns his head back side eyeing you, back still turned towards you. “He has to learn heart break at some point.” He said coldly.

“So that’s it? You’re just gonna walk out my life after all these years… you’re just gonna shut me out that fast?”

“Just forget about me.”

That was the last thing you remember of Toji Fushiguro. The pain he made you feel and the words he spoke that night would always be held in your mind. Memories resurfacing of when you two were happy together, it felt like your mind was taunting you.

AN: hope you enjoyed… lowkey want to make a pt 2 bc I always want to have lore to my fics LMAOO but I might not… depends.

- omi

#jjk toji #fushiguro toji x reader #jjk anime #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji headcanons #jujutsu kaisen toji #dilf toji #toji x y/n #toji angst #toji scenarios #jjk headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk x gender neutral reader #toji fic #toji x you #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu megumi #megumi fushiguro #jjk angst

[wongyuuu]

Way Back Home | jww

pairing: wonwoo x fem!reader genre: angst, fluff towards the end word count: 6.3k summary: after twelve years apart, you finally meet wonwoo again

warnings: this fic is set in the early 2000's (around 2003) so that's why communication is a little complicated

requests are open

“So, did the two of you have fun playing this stupid game?” you said as you finally took the call. 

The phone in your hotel room had been ringing for hours now. You were sure that the receptionist hated you. They knew you were in the room but still refused to pick up the call, so Jeonghan had been calling nonstop.

“What are we talking about exactly? You know I’m not a great player at anything really,” Jeonghan said, the humor in his voice evident. The fact that he treated the whole situation as a joke angered you even further. 

You and Jeonghan met while you were still in college, during your final internship before graduation. He was the one you were supposed to report to, and you were his first intern. All of it was a mess from the start, but not too much apparently, as they hired you as a full-time employee and he was in charge of training all the new interns. 

Eventually, Jeonghan got tired of being bossed around and decided to leave. He asked you to work for him and you said yes. That was two years before. Jeonghan was your best friend, the one person you trusted with most aspects of your life. So the fact that he did that, that he send you there without letting you know what you’d find waiting for you, hurt more than you could put into words. 

“You know that coming here meant seeing Wonwoo again,” you murmured, the pain in your voice evident.

You couldn’t get the look on Wonwoo’s face out of your mind. As if it had been engraved in your brain, it played back again and again. He looked at you with pure anger, nothing more. While you felt hopeful and happy, all you felt coming from Wonwoo was hatred. 

The last time you saw him, the two of you were sixteen years old. The worse part of your teenage life and probably the worse year of high school for both of you, until that moment. You often found solace in each other’s arms, in the whispered words spoken in the darkest hours of the night. You were each other’s only friend, the only comfort in those years. He was your best friend, the entire reason you found any strength to get out of bed. He was your lifeline, your safe haven.

And then you had to leave him behind and go to a place that could have been a paradise for you, but you hated it with every fiber of your being. Because sure, that life was a living hell, but at least you had him. And then you didn’t have him anymore, and it didn’t matter how many times you tried to contact him. Phone calls, letters, driving to him. All of it. Everything you could think of. The same way you vanished, so did him.

But there he was, looking so much like the boy you remembered, but at the same time completely different. He was taller than the boy in your memory, the sprout years of a boy really hitting him hard after you left. You couldn’t help but wonder if that happened the summer your parents took you away, or if it was the year after that.

Did he make it to college like he wanted, an architecture degree like yours, or he went for something else? Did he even make it to college at all? Judging by the fact that he stood in front of you, the answer was yes to both questions.

But all the while you were happy, thrilled even, to see him, Wonwoo didn’t seem to share the same feeling. His eyes seemed warm and welcoming once he opened the door, but when he realized that it was you, his entire posture changed. His eyes turned cold and avoided yours.

“I thought it was something you wanted,” Jeonghan said softly, quickly realizing that the issue was much bigger than he anticipated. 

You sighed again, watching the bright pink socks on your feet. 

Seeing Wonwoo again, after so many years, was something you had dreamed of and desired, but not without any sort of preparation. You needed time to think of something to say, how to approach him. Truthfully, you had thought about it so many times, had even thought about it the night you boarded the plane to go to him. But once he was in front of you, you froze in place and everything happened in the exact opposite way of what you expected and wished for. 

“It was, but I don’t think it’s something he wanted, Jeonghan. A relationship, in whichever shape or form, needs two people. Although I wanted something like this, to reconnect and maybe even try to be friends again, he needs to want it too”

Jeonghan wanted to say something but chose to stay quiet. He understood what you meant. Even if he had gotten the impression from Mingyu that seeing you again was something Wonwoo wanted, Jeonghan wasn’t about to defend the guy. 

“Do you want to come home?” you shook your head, knowing that Jeonghan couldn’t see you but sure that your silence would be enough of an answer “It’s your call, you say the word and I’ll get you on the next flight out”

“You know I don’t quit jobs, Jeonghan, so I’ll finish this”

And then you’d go home, to the memories you kept.

Walking inside the office Wonwoo shared with Mingyu was like leaving the warmth of a blanket and facing the raging snowstorm outside with nothing more than a t-shirt. Where Mingyu was bright and talkative, Wonwoo was cold and silent. 

Not once did he talk to you, or even looked your way. In fact, on most days, the second you walked in, Wonwoo closed his door and wouldn’t leave his office — not even for a bathroom break — while you were there.

“I’m sorry about him. He’s usually quiet but never really like this”

Your entire body shuddered at the loud sound of the door closing. Every day, since you arrived, Mingyu tried to find ways to make excuses for Wonwoo’s behavior. “he’s just shy”, “Wonwoo’s stressed out because of a different project, the client is giving him hell”, “he got drunk last night”. 

You just nodded and pretend to hear whatever it was that Mingyu came up with. All of those were valid reasons to be in a bad mood. You had gone through those emotions more than once. But never had you used those situations as ways to be rude to other people. 

And truthfully, you couldn’t even understand why Wonwoo was acting like that. In the twelve years since you last saw each other, it has been your dream to see him again. You never expected to pick up your friendship, but you hoped that you could at least be friendly. Clearly, Wonwoo didn’t feel the same way.

“You should have talked to him about it, before bringing me here,” you said as you rolled up the design in front of you “Jeonghan knew my feelings, but I’m guessing that you didn’t know about Wonwoo’s as well as you thought”

Mingyu sighed and looked at his friend’s closed office door. 

“I thought I knew him, that this was something that he wanted”

It didn’t take long for you to discover that Jeonghan and Mingyu worked together on the plan to make you and Wonwoo work together on the same project. It would have been an okay plan if the two of you could stay in the same room for more than twenty seconds. But the moment Wonwoo found out that you would be in the project, he stepped back and Mingyu was doing all the work in his place. 

It wasn’t like Wonwoo didn’t do anything at all while you were there. He worked on other projects. Or just about anything that made him stay as far away as possible from you. 

“I’m going to work on these at the hotel, okay?” you raised the tube in your hands and smiled “He probably needs to pee or eat at this point”

Mingyu watched as you grabbed your purse and waved goodbye once you reached the door. Less than a minute later, the door to Wonwoo’s office opened and he walked out, after quickly making sure that you were nowhere to be seen. He stretched his arms to the sides and then slowly above his head before heading to the bathroom. 

“Until when exactly will you keep doing this?” Mingyu asked once Wonwoo left the bathroom. He watched as his friend sat in the same spot you were just a few minutes before and went through the blueprints you worked on. His fingers traced the words you had written, slightly smudging them

“Why are you over here longing over a drawing when you could be talking to her, understanding what actually happened back then?”

Wonwoo shook his head.

“You brought her here, you deal with her. If we talk, it won’t be pretty” 

Twelve years' worth of hurt and anger that had been carefully tucked away had been brought back to the surface the second he saw you. He had seen you before you saw him. He was at the window looking at the people moving across the street, hurrying here and there when he saw you. Your face briefly glanced at the notebook in your hands before looking around, as if you were looking for something or someone. It didn’t take him long to realize that you were looking for a place, and that place was exactly where he was. 

Shock, dread, and something else he hadn’t felt in years crept into his body as he watched in absolute horror as you greeted Mingyu, a bright smile on your face. A smile that dropped when you saw him. 

Even from across the room, Wonwoo could tell that your eyes filled with tears, your lips forming his name without ever making a sound. The tears gave room to hope as you smiled at him. Mingyu, who was in front of you talking excitedly, was completely forgotten for a moment.

Still, Wonwoo couldn’t share that happiness with you.

“So you’re going to hold over her head something that happened when the two of you were sixteen?”

“Yeah” was all Wonwoo said.

By the end of week two, you were exhausted and had had enough of Wonwoo pretending that you didn’t exist and Mingyu making excuses on his behalf. 

You made excuses for him as well. 

Wonwoo, as a teenager, was someone who needed time to understand certain situations and come up with a plan. When talking to Mingyu about him, you understood that part of his personality hadn’t changed. So you gave him time, plenty of it. Tried to not feel hurt over it, all the ways he avoided you, how Mingyu was the one working with you when Wonwoo should be the one doing it. 

But enough was, eventually, enough, and you handled it as best as you could, for as long as you could. The project was far from being done. If you were optimistic and everything went according to plan, there was still a month of work to be done.

“Is that door locked?” you asked Mingyu once you walked inside the office.

Mingyu looked over his shoulder at Wonwoo’s door and at his friend through the glass door. Although he looked focused on whatever it was that he was doing, he was way more concerned about everything that was happening outside.

“Go crazy,” he answered with a smile.

Setting your bag where you usually sat, you marched to Wonwoo’s office. He merely looked at you over his glasses before looking back at his computer.

“I’m busy right now”

“I don’t actually give a fuck” you pushed the screen of his computer until it was closed in front of him “I’ve given you two weeks, allowed you to treat me like shit but I’ve had enough of that”

He leaned back in his chair, a condescending smile on his lips, and he had never quite looked so handsome before.

You tried your best not to stare at him too much, but he was all man now. Every time you looked at him, your heart did the same thing it did when you were a teenager. You tingled everywhere, but you still held yourself back from reaching for him. Just for a second, you wanted to hold his hand and feel his skin against yours.

However, the wall Wonwoo built in front of you was so high that you felt like you were wrong just from breathing in the same room as him.

“I know it’s been twelve years, and I don’t expect things to be how they used to be, but I thought that if this day ever happened, we would at least be friendly. Why are you treating me like this?”

“You left, you couldn’t possibly expect things to be different from what they are now”

Wonwoo was right. You left, but even after twelve years, it was still the hardest thing you ever did. And it was the one thing you had absolutely no control over. You were sixteen and your dad hated Wonwoo so much that he found a job in a different city, so you would move somewhere else.

You found out about it a couple of days before it actually happened. You and Wonwoo came up with a plan to keep in touch until you were eighteen and finally free to do whatever you wanted.

Phone calls are just for emergencies, you and Wonwoo agreed, so let’s communicate through letters, I’ll send the first one because I still don’t know exactly where they’re taking me but we can go back and forth after that.

For months you wrote letters that were never answered, but you thought that delivery was bad and nothing more. Only realizing that something was off once when you started to get the letters back. There was no hint of them being ever opened and the stamp recipient refused correspondence in bright red. 

Then the phone calls started. She asked Jihoon, a friend from school, to make the call, afraid that if whoever answered heard her voice, they would call her dad. The calls were always made in the specific hours Wonwoo instructed you but he was never there to answer.

“You’re right, I left. But what I can’t understand is why you’re acting like this when you were the one who never answered”

An incredulous laugh left Wonwoo’s mouth as he got up. He was still taller than you, the different bigger than in your memory. His shoulders got broader too. Your hands shook as you pushed them inside the pockets of your jacket.

“I never answered because you never wrote or called”

You shook your head, stepping back and hitting the glass wall behind you. You looked over your shoulder for a second to find Mingyu staring at you, probably listening to every word you said.

“For two years I wrote to you, every week as we planned, and every single time the letters were returned to me. I had a guy from school call your house every other week but you never once picked up the call. We had to stop when your brother started to think that you were in trouble” 

The same condescending smile was still on his lips. Wonwoo didn’t believe you, not for a second. There were no letters, no phone calls. You had never tried to reach him in any way.

“You never really cared, y/n. Be honest with me, I was just the guy who gave you some attention when you lacked it from your parents. I’m sure the guy from school you mentioned was happy to fill in for me”

Your entire body shook, out of hurt and anger. You wanted to lash out at him, scream or something, anything at all, that would make him understand. But he was convinced and if he was still anything like the boy you knew, there was no chance of convincing him.

You turned your back to him, your shaky fingers reaching for the door handle. You rested your head on the door for a second, trying your best to push the air back into your lungs.

“You were my best friend” you whispered, so low that Wonwoo almost missed it “You were the most important person in the world to me. There was only you”

You pulled the door open and stepped outside. You were never one to cry in front of people, even if that was all you wanted but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop once Mingyu was in sight again. Or at least a very blurry version of him.

“y/n…” Mingyu reached for you, his hand on your shoulder. And then he felt it, your body shaking so violently that it surprised him that he couldn’t see it happening “Let me drive you back”

You shook your head, stepping away from his touch. Mingyu was nice and kind, his presence was the only source of comfort amidst Wonwoo’s coldness. He did his best to make you feel welcomed but he couldn’t do anything for you anymore.

“I can just call a taxi” you pushed away the tears away and tried to smile at him, trying to assure him, “I’m fine, don’t worry”

Only when you were on the other side of the street, you allowed yourself to let out the sobs that were stuck in your throat. Everything hurt, but most of all, your heart was shattering into a million different pieces once again.

Throughout the entire weekend Wonwoo felt uncomfortable in his own skin, something that hadn’t happened to him in many years. 

He didn’t expect the way you left his office to affect him so much, or at all, to be honest. What he said to you was part of the little speech he practiced over the years, in case he ever saw you again. What he didn’t practice was the part where you cried and said that you tried to contact him for years.

He realized he was wrong when he saw the shock on your face. He started to think that maybe the things he believed for years were lies 

So he did the only thing that he could think of. He stayed inside his car, outside the hotel you were staying at, building up the courage to get out and talk to you.

It was awfully hard, Wonwoo realized, to admit that he was wrong for so many years. And it was even a little embarrassing to think that he didn’t need any convincing at all. When Mingyu barged into his office, Wonwoo was already fully convinced that he was, in fact, wrong.

He watched as you left the building with nothing but a wallet and your phone and went to the coffee shop on the other side of the street.

“She used to hate coffee,” he said to himself.

He felt like a stalker, watching you in secret. But that feeling wasn’t enough to shake him. He was okay with being a creep for a little while if it meant making sure that you were alright.

Your eyes seemed a little puffy and you looked down at your phone for a second before pressing it to your ear. You were quiet for a moment before you spoke to whoever was on the line. You were on the phone the entire time you waited for your drink.

Wonwoo felt a sharp pain in his chest as the frown on your face eased and a small smile appeared on your lips.

It had never occurred to him that you could have been in a relationship, that there was someone in your life. He was so focused on the memory of you, that he let go of the person in front of him.

“We’ll talk on Monday” he promised himself “Let’s calm down for now”

Weekends usually went by quickly for Wonwoo, much to his disappointment. He used to love to be by himself, in his apartment, watching TV, or sleeping. 

But that one weekend, in specific, dragged on and on. Never before was he so desperately waiting for Sunday to end. He purposely got to the office later than usual. Wonwoo wanted to make sure that you were already there. He wanted to apologize and maybe have a decent conversation with you for a change, one that didn’t end with you crying.

Wonwoo felt a tingle of disappointment when he noticed that you weren’t anywhere to be seen. Instead, going over the blueprints you were working on friday was a man he had never seen before. 

“Ah, Wonwoo” Mingyu said “This is Jeonghan, y/n works for him”

Jeonghan stood up and reached out to shake Wonwoo’s hand. 

“It may be my name on the door, but she’s the soul of the firm, so I’d say that I work for her”

His smile looked innocent enough, but Wonwoo knew better and it was obvious why Jeonghan was there. You had left.

“Can we talk?” Jeonghan asked from the door.

He didn’t wait for Wonwoo’s answer and walked in without an invitation.

Wonwoo watched him quietly all morning. The way he interacted with Mingyu, how he moved around the office. It was easy to see personality traits being shared by the two of you, from the way the two of you used the same wording in a sentence to how he even moved around the office.

Wonwoo wondered if he was the person you had been talking with on the phone on Saturday.

“Sure”

Jeonghan moved to sit on the chair in front of Wonwoo. The box in his hand never felt heavier.

“I don’t appreciate y/n calling me, in the middle of the night, in panic, begging me to let her go home” he did his best to keep his voice leveled but it was hard to “I’ve known her years and something like this never happened before” 

Wonwoo’s heart felt tight inside his chest as if someone was squeezing it. He didn’t mean it, he didn’t want to hurt you at all he realized. He was filled with regret the moment he spoke. Jeonghan’s words explained why Mingyu said that you had a family emergency and that’s why you left in a hurry because that’s probably what you told him. Needless to say, neither of them believed it. Wonwoo much less, considering your past relationship with your parents.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said those things to her”

Sighing, Jeonghan put the box in front of Wonwoo.

“These are letters she wrote. She kept them for the past twelve years. I told her many times to throw them away but I was the one who stopped her this time around”

Jeonghan knew that he was going to regret his decision. Once Wonwoo went through them, there was no way he wouldn’t  want to talk to you. Wonwoo stayed quiet as Jeonghan flexed his fingers on the edges of the shoe box, one that Wonwoo remembered all too well.

“You like her”

“From the moment I saw her” Jeonghan answered with a nod, finally pushing the box away from him “But there was never really a place for me, not like that”

He stood, pushing the chair back, putting his hands deep inside his pockets.

“If you hurt her, even if you don’t mean to, I’ll be sure to make you regret that decision every single day for the rest of your life”

Hi Wonwoo,

On my way here I kept thinking about how I would write that this place sucks, that the school is awful and absolutely no one here talks to me. It was a plan, you know? But if I did that, I would be lying and sounding like a bratty teenager. So I won’t. 

The house Dad found is so cool, there’s a swing set in the back and my room is also nice. School doesn’t seem too bad either and I’ve made friends. There’s this boy, our age, who I share classes with, Jihoon, who I think you’d like. I’m thinking about asking him to call you when I can’t deal with not hearing your voice anymore. Not now, of course, but at some point in the future.

I’ve been gone for three weeks, and I already miss you like crazy. I started to miss you once we were on the road. Not seeing you or talking to you for three weeks is torture. In a way, I guess, my parents are succeeding. I miss the feeling I had waking up, knowing that I would get to see you, that we would go to the woods behind the school and just talk. About anything and everything. 

Sorry this first letter isn’t long, there isn’t much going on and I still don’t know what to say. Also, I’m sorry it took me so long to write. Dad has been paying attention to what I do, so I’ve been trying to keep quiet so he’ll leave me alone.

I miss you a lot,

yn

Hi Wonwoo,

So, something weird happened today. All the letters I’ve sent so far, six, came back as if you had refused to receive them. Did something happen? I’m sure it’s just a mistake, but I just want to make sure.

Either way, I’ll keep writing, but I’ll ask Jihoon to make the call tomorrow. We’ll come up with a plan so that no one finds out that I’m the one calling. 

Please be there when we call, and please pick up the phone.

I miss you

yh

Hi Wonwoo,

It’s been months now and I can’t get a hold of you, the letters are still being rejected and the calls too. You’re never there, not even once. 

I keep holding out the hope that your life just changed, for the better. Now you have new friends and a girlfriend so you’re busy with the new life. If that’s the case and that’s why you pushed me away, then it’s fine. All I ever wanted was for you to be happy and if me not being part of your life helps that happiness then I’ll gladly stay away.

But you’re happy, right?

Please find happiness, Wonwoo. In whatever shape or form that you can find. There’s no one else in this world that deserves it more than you. 

I think I’ll keep writing to you, maybe not as often, but I’ll keep writing either way. Even if you don’t think of me as a friend anymore, you’re still that someone for me.

I hope your college plans didn’t change. I really want to see you again. 

I miss you so much. I think I’m going crazy.

yn

Wonwoo,

I just got back home. It was such a long drive, and it only made me realize that I hate driving more than anything else. I’d just rather either walk or take the bus. But that’s not really important right now.

For the past few years, I’ve written you letters. A lot at first and then fewer as time went by. It’s not that nice to write letters that will be sent back, never read. But still, I wrote, hoping that maybe, just maybe, this one would be the one you’d accept. You never did, though.

So I made a promise to myself that the second I turned eighteen, when my parents couldn’t hold their power of legal guardians over me, I would get inside my car and drive all the way back to you. If he’s going to reject me, then he has to do it in my face. I think I just like being hurt or something, but honestly, you’re the only one that I’d go this far for.

Anyway.

Four days ago it was my eighteenth birthday so I got in my car at two in the morning and drove back to our hometown. I kept thinking about what I would say to you and not a whole lot came to mind. I just wanted to hug you. That’s the only thought that crossed my mind. Even if he rejects me, I’m going to hug him for 5 entire seconds. I’m sort of pathetic, right? 

It’s okay, only you get to see this version of me. Ever.

So I got there and went straight to your house. Your brother, he’s so tall now, was the only one there and he said that you were gone. Left the week before and he didn’t know where you went.

Obviously, I didn’t believe him. If I had a brother and he left, I’d want to know where he went. So I stayed in town for 3 days. I went to the places you’d usually go to, but mostly to the lake. I parked my car as close as possible and slept inside it. Careless, I know. It was also terrifying. But nothing bad happened, so please give me a pass on the lecture.

As expected, I didn’t find you there either. You know, one would think that you’re dead, considering that there’s no way to find you at all. But I also asked if you were alive and the answer was yes and an incredulous laugh so…

After sitting alone in my car for an hour, crying, I came back home. And I made a decision.

I don’t know what you’ll do with your life, if you’re going to the college we agreed on or if you’re going to college at all. Either way, I won’t look for you. I will do my best to never search for your name anywhere (which I have and there was no Jeon Wonwoo anywhere)

This is also the last letter that I ever write to you. There’s no point in writing to someone who will never read what you want to say to them. There’s no point in loving someone who doesn’t love you back. 

Because I do, Wonwoo. I really do love you. Not as just a friend, as in love with you. I remember thinking that you weren’t accepting my letters because you had a girlfriend and nothing hurt more than that. Because I would have chosen you, even if we were to remain just friends. It was always you for me. Or maybe an idolized version of you.

Because now you are forever the love that never was, one that I just never got to live to the fullest.

I’m sorry if my love for you was suffocating.

I’ll stop loving you now and live the college life to the best of my abilities.  

If we see each other by chance, let’s just smile and move on. Let us be a good memory of our teenage years.

yn

You felt apologetic towards Jeonghan. He was a friend and also your boss, but he was out there covering for you because you couldn’t bring yourself to not care anymore. 

Twelve years since you last saw Wonwoo, ten since the last letter you wrote to him. Three different relationships, with people that were wildly different from him, and at every single turn the guy was compared to him. Without a fault, no one was as good as him. 

And being honest, it was so stupid to compare grown men to the memory of a teenage boy. For all you knew, Wonwoo could have turned into a completely different person. And he did. It just wasn’t a version of him you liked very much.

So maybe, who Wonwoo had grown to be wasn’t someone you would have loved. Maybe him treating you like that was what you needed to finally get him out of your mind.

The love that never was, you remember writing. Perhaps now you could change that thought to the love that never was because it turns out that Wonwoo is a complete asshole.

You looked at your computer screen, reading the e-mail Jeonghan sent you earlier. 

you| If there’s anything I can help you with, please tell me. Also, apologize to Mingyu for me. I was so desperate to leave that I didn’t say bye to him

jeonghan| He says ‘I heard what Wonwoo said, there’s nothing to apologize for’ and you should focus on the projects there. There’s enough to do on your end as well, now that you’re me for the time being

You smiled lightly, closing your laptop and finally pulling the blankets over your legs. Although you were offering to help, you hoped that Jeonghan would tell you not to do anything for now. You felt bad and working was always a coping mechanism for you but the situation somehow felt like a breakup, the worst kind. So all you wanted to do was lay on your couch, watching a romcom, wondering where it had gone so wrong for you.

How stupid it was that you had gotten your heart broken twice, by the same guy, without ever being in a relationship with him? Without ever kissing him? 

“Jeon Wonwoo, always making me look like a fool”

Somewhere in the middle of the second movie you had fallen asleep but it wasn’t the light from the TV that woke you. It was the never-ending knocking on your door.

With legs that were yet to wake up, you walked to the door, standing on your tiptoes to reach the peephole. You took a step back, the door suddenly on fire under your palms.

Wonwoo.

You didn’t want to answer the door, didn’t want to fight with him once again because you knew you’d lose. You’d just let him scream, say whatever acid words he had saved for you.

“Please, y/n, open the door. I know you’re in there, I can hear the TV and I see your shadow from under the door”

You leaned your head against the door, the tears already running freely down your cheeks. You did such a good job of not crying. The six hours of crying sessions, that led to the worst migraine ever known to man, had been enough. You decided that you had no more tears left to cry for Wonwoo. And yet there you were, crying over his voice, over the fact that he was at your door, somehow.

“Go away, Wonwoo, please”

“Can you, at least hear me out? You don’t have to open the door at all. Just please, please, hear me out. You can tell me to fuck off later. OK?”

He took your silence as a positive answer. Wonwoo took a deep breath before he started.

“I never got your letters, not one of them. I didn’t reject them as you said, I would have never done that. If there was anything I wanted when I was sixteen was to hear from you. I didn’t know about the phone calls either. If I can be honest, there was once a brief mention of a call to me but nothing other than that and by that point, I was already angry enough to not care. I thought that your parents were holding you back, somehow, from contacting me. So I kept waiting and waiting. I asked at school if they had gotten letters under my name. I thought that maybe you were scared to send the letters to my house but there was nothing there either.

“And with time, I got hurt and angrier and then hurt some more. That silence was like a confirmation of what everyone used to think, but it came from you. And that hurt more than anything else because you were the one person who ever saw me as someone who mattered too. I’m sorry I said those things to you, I really am, you don’t know how sorry I am. I regretted saying them the second the words left my mouth. The last thing I ever want is to hurt you”

There was a pause and a soft knock on the door and, somehow you just know that Wonwoo was crying too. A quiet sob a second later was all the confirmation you needed. You had never seen him cry before. Even back then, while talking about things that obviously hurt him, Wonwoo would still keep that serene and peaceful look in his eyes. Hearing him cry was breaking your heart all over again, in ways that you weren’t even aware were possible. Your fingers moved to the door handle, and you unlocked it, pulling it open.

Wonwoo’s eyes and nose were red, tear paths running down his cheeks. 

Without thinking about it, you stepped outside and wrapped your arms around his waist, your head pressed against his chest. The sound of his heart beating wildly brought some sort of comfort, like listening to this one song you’ve been waiting for your entire life, the one that was always in the back of your mind and you could never quite find it. Until you did. 

It was right there, the sound of his beating heart.

It felt like home.

He was home.

“Look at me,” Wonwoo asked, his voice barely a whisper. 

You looked up at him, your chin on his chest. You refused to take a step back. 

The small smile that overtook your lips was unstoppable once you saw the look in Wonwoo’s eyes. Long gone was the look of pure hatred that he had on that first day. He was suddenly the Wonwoo you knew again.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his fingertips brushing against your cheeks, pushing away the last of your tears, and then his lips were on your cheeks, then your forehead “I’m sorry we lost eleven years, I would do anything to get them back”

You brought his hand to your lips, placing a soft kiss on his knuckles.

“Let’s do our best to not lose the next twelve then”

a/n: thank you for reading! reblogs, comments and likes are always welcomed

#klabels #seventeen imagine #seventeen x reader #seventeen x you #svt x reader #svt imagine #svt x you #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo x you #seventeen angst #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fluff #wonwoo angst

[screamforyani]

make you proud

pairing ↠ gf!ethan x (f) reader

genre .. warnings ↠ angst, smut, macher!reader, mc has a panic attack, violence/character death, logically mc would be around sam’s age but we’re gonna ignore logic for the sake of you being a fresh college student

summary ↠ after your boss is killed in a ghostface attack and your deepest, darkest secret gets out, your life is flipped upside-down. the whole world knows that you’re stu macher’s illegitimate daughter now and the worst part is that even your friends suspect you might be a killer.

wc ↠ 9.0k

for whatever reason, you were indescribably antsy today. 

for all of three fleeting minutes, you convinced yourself that nothing was amiss and chalked it up to being excessively paranoid, which sounded like you. but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something just wasn’t right. 

meandering down the pavement of blackmore’s perfectly trimmed courtyard, your worries were later rationalized when some random guy walking just shy of you with his friend randomly exclaimed for all the campus to hear, “yo, dude, look out - it’s that killer!”

you were baffled, but they didn’t give you much room for a reaction before a flock of students crowded you, several of them taking out their phones. one girl dangled her phone in your face and asked, “what’s it like being a psycho bitch?”

you barked, “what the fuck are you talking about?”

“uh, oh. better run before she fucks around and stabs one of us,” suggested her friend, just before the two of them laughed and darted away from you like you were dangerous.

“what the fuck?” you mumbled under your breath, more than a little perplexed. 

the crowd around you was beginning to build up and that (much to your dismay), combined by the number of phones filming your every move, was making you incredibly anxious.

“thanks, i think we’ve got it from here,” announced a familiar voice from behind you, and before you knew it, someone was pulling you away from the crowd of people.

when you turned your head, you realized that it was no other than chad. 

mindy was right beside him and immediately groaned, “god, we’ve been looking for you everywhere.”

“looking for me for what?” you asked, having not a clue as to what was happening, but you did have a really bad feeling about whatever it was. “what’s going on?”

mindy gave you a look. “haven’t you seen the news?”

you hissed, “does it look like i watch the news?”

“well, maybe now would be a great time to start,” mindy retorted, grabbing your other arm as she escorted you away with her brother as if you were a wanted criminal.

“i still don’t know what the fuck is going on.”

“we’ll tell you when we get to sam and tara’s,” chad said, feigning some semblance of calm.

the ride to sam and tara’s was nothing short of suffocating and nerve-racking. when their tall, gaunt apartment finally came into view and chad and mindy briskly escorted you upstairs, everyone stood to flat feet, hairs raised, looking at you with total dread and consternation. sam and tara were obviously there, alongside their roommate, quinn, mindy’s girlfriend, anika, and your friend, ethan, who also happened to be chad’s roommate.

tara was the first to speak before you could demand an explanation and exclaimed, “when were you going to tell us that you’re stu’s daughter?”

your heart dropped, but you tried to play dumb, glancing around and laughing nervously. “what?”

chad pointed to the television while mindy grabbed the remote control and turned it up for you to hear. there was a photo of your and sam’s shared boss on the screen, the headlines reporting that he had been found murdered at your job in the late, dead hours of last night.

the newscaster reported, “a pair of ghostface costumes were found at the scene, a character popularized by the stab movie franchise. also found at the scene were the driver’s license of sam carpenter, who you may remember from the tragic ghostface incident last year in woodsboro, and the birth certificate of…,” she said your name. “which reveals her father to be no other than stu macher.”

the rest of her words went in one ear and out the other as you were filled with immediate dread and panic. your heart started to feel taut in your chest as everything else around you became white noise and your grip on the reins of reality began to slacken.

“is she okay?”

“no, fuckward, does she look okay?”

“she’s having a panic attack,” ethan said worriedly, having - unlike the others - been here before. he swiftly came to your side and held you, looking into your eyes as he reassured gently, “hey, look at me. remember to breathe. everything will be okay.”

you nodded your head, but you felt as if you were going to die any second now. you tried to listen to ethan, soothed by his presence.

“okay, good. i’m going to take you to the couch now so that you can sit down,” ethan said slowly. “is that okay?”

“yes,” you whispered, chest heaving.

ethan slowly walked you to the couch and asked tara to get you a glass of water. he tried to offer you a pillow to hold but you denied it, reaching for his hand instead.

he gave you a saccharine smile and squeezed your hand, “i’m right here with you, okay? we’re at sam and tara’s apartment and it’s just the eight of us. nothing is going to happen to you, i promise. just remember to breathe.”

just as you nodded your head, tara came back with a glass of water that you accepted with a quiet thanks and sipped from. ethan let go of your shaky hand, which made you panic for a moment, but he patted your back and assured you that he wasn’t going anywhere, encouraging you to drink with both hands while the others asked how they could help.

after a solid five more minutes, you’d essentially calmed down from your attack, but you felt completely drained. not to mention terrified beyond belief. everyone gave you some reassuring words out of the kindness of their hearts, but it wasn’t enough.

anika gave you a compassionate smile. “do you have panic attacks often?”

“no, not really. sporadically. the last time was maybe eight months ago, and ethan was there, so he, uh, knows what to do now,” you explained softly, somewhat awkward. having panic attacks in front of groups of people was never exactly fun.

sam crouched down in front of you. “you’re stu macher’s daughter.”

“and you’re the daughter of billy loomis,” you replied blankly.

for a second, you and sam just stared at each other, eyes filled mutual understanding. cursed recognized cursed.

chad asked, “did you know?”

“of course, i knew,” you grumbled, crossing your arms. “i’ve always known. i was trying to make sure nobody else knew.”

“well, now the whole world knows, and someone is trying to pin our boss’ murder on us. people are saying that we’re working as a team to continue the legacy of our fathers,” sam told you, which made the ordeal in the courtyard make a whole lot more sense, but not any easier to cope with.

quinn’s brows furrowed. “but how did they get your driver’s license and her birth certificate?”

“probably because of somebody with close access to them,” mindy suggested, panning her view cynically over to quinn. “like you.”

quinn made a face. “okay, but she-” quinn gestured to you with her shoulder. “-lives alone. i steal that too?”

mindy shrugged. “i don’t know. maybe you have a partner. someone who’s always at her place, like, i don’t know, ethan.”

“i come over to help her study,” ethan explained, eyes widening at the accusation. 

“right,” mindy drawled. “and where are you when she goes to the bathroom - or steps out the room?”

“mindy, i didn’t even know where my own birth certificate was before all of this,” you said, massaging your temple. “i’m sure i would know if he was rammaging the place if i stepped away for three minutes.”

sam interjected, running a hand through her raven-black hair, “you guys, this isn’t helping. i say go home, travel in groups, and we regroup later.”

sam’s word was more or less final, so the five of you obediently did as told. ethan told you that he’d see you tomorrow night for studying which made mindy roll her eyes and tug you along with her and anika. fortunately enough, you and anika lived in the same apartment complex, so mindy would walk with you two and spend the night with her girlfriend.

you made it back inside without any ghostface attacks. locking your door behind you, you heaved a breath and went to take a shower. 

steaming, hot water beated down your body, covering your skin in little rivulets while the mist rose like shrouds above your head. all you could think about was how the secret you’d dedicated your whole life to protecting had finally slipped. what happens in the dark always comess to light, they said.

it was overwhelming. you had the blood of stu macher flowing through you, a man who took many lives before yours, and now you were being accused of continuing his wicked legacy. which meant that not only would nobody ever look at you the same again, but there was an actual killer out there that had gotten close enough to you to steal your birth certificate.

deep down inside, you knew that it was one of those seven.

the following night, ethan sent you a text informing you that he couldn’t make it and apologized, softening the message with a cute emoji. 

you thought nothing of it and typed back, okay, all 296 of my highlighters will still be here whenever you’re ready. yes, i counted. i demand you return the other four you stole.

yes, ma’am, replied ethan a couple minutes later with a salute emoji that made you giggle.

seriously, though. be safe, you typed. 

your phone buzzed in your hand just as you prepared to set it down. i will, but don’t worry about me. i’ll take care of both of us.

you hearted his text and told him goodnight, all while wearing the stupidest smile on your face.

which was erased the next morning when your tv was playing (given the circumstances, you took mindy’s advice and started watching the news) and something in you fractured when you saw something about a ghostface attack at sam and tara’s apartment. you swiped up your keys and scurried to your car, making a beeline for their apartment complex.

you slipped through yellow tape, spotting some of the gang and asking, “what the hell happened?”

“back. the fuck. up,” mindy snarled, looking at you like you were a deformed beast. 

“what?” you whispered, confused. you glanced at chad and tara. “i just heard the news. i came right away. i wanted to make sure you guys were okay.”

“well, look at us. we’re fine. there, you can go,” mindy retorted with disdain. 

just as you were about to speak, ethan came from behind the yellow tape, calling, “chad.” 

that was when chad left his post at and paraded toward ethan with long, quick strides and slammed him into an emergency vehicle, shouting, “where the fuck were you?”

ethan’s eyes widened. “what - when?”

“don’t play dumb with me, man. you disappear and my sister almost gets killed!”

“he was with me!” you shouted, coming up to them and trying to pry chad off of ethan. “okay? we had to study, remember?”

chad’s grasp on ethan slackened as he glanced at you, but he didn’t let go. “and he was with you the whole night?”

“yes,” you lied through your teeth. 

chad pressed, “then why didn’t you show up together? did he leave?”

“we did show up together. i told him to stay in the car,” you said, glaring at ethan to really sell your tale. “see what happens when you don’t follow instructions?”

ethan faltered, glancing towards the ground. “i’m sorry.” 

chad released him, backing away. “fuck, man.”

ethan glanced into the alleyway, wincing. “oh my god - who?”

“anika,” chad exhaled, walking back towards the ambulance. “and quinn.”

something violent twisted in your chest.

you watched ethan go up to mindy and heard her say something about the both of you being at the top of her list, but it was all white noise to you. your heart was taut with guilt, given that you had lied for ethan in spite of having no clue of his whereabouts when you two were meant to be studying. 

there was a reason you did it, though - logical or not. you just genuinely didn’t believe your best friend was a murderer. you’d known him for a year, six months before the core four came to manhattan. regardless of wherever he was, you doubted it was on a murder spree, and you covered for him solely because you didn’t want him to have to go through being interrogated.

merely minutes later, sam and tara came back with gale and kirby and all of you ended up in some place down an alley that apparently belonged to some kids in mindy’s film studies class.

“it’s a theater,” tara said when the lights flickered on after you all got through the intricate security. 

“not just a theater,” gale said. “it’s a shrine.”

that was when you noticed the rest of the room and the screen lifted up, revealing nine different mannequins in ghostface costumes.

the eight of you ventured around the room, walking around in awe. everyone gravitated towards something different - kirby to charlie walker’s knife, gale to drawings of dewey, mindy and chad to randy meek’s shirt, and sam to billy loomis’ ghostface case.

likewise, you were beside a mannequin that sported your father’s infamous red robe.

“they’ve got the whole goddamn franchise,” mindy marveled. 

“how’d they get this stuff?” asked tara. “i mean, isn’t this evidence?”

“well, cops like money, and evidence can get lost pretty easily,” gale explained. “present company excluded, of course.”

ethan asked, “uh, why am i here exactly? my alibi checks out.”

“so i can keep an eye on you, roomie,” chad said, shooting ethan a smile. 

mindy made a V with her fingers and darted them between her eyes and ethan.

“the TV that killed stu macher,” kirby said to mindy, sitting beside her. 

your eyes locked on the infamous television. you’d obviously heard of it - there were many stories about your father’s death - but seeing it up-close was an entirely different experience and you didn’t know how to feel.

“hey,” ethan said.

you jolted out of your reverie, glancing to your side to spot ethan standing beside you. 

“sorry,” he whispered. “i wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“it’s fine,” you said, stepping away from your father’s robe. you were curious, but you didn’t want anyone getting the wrong vibe.

ethan whispered, “you didn’t have to lie for me earlier.”

“you really wanna talk about this now?”

“chad can watch me all he wants. they can’t hear us,” ethan said under his breath.

“listen,” you said softly, glancing at the glass case rather than making direct eye contact with him to avoid raising suspicion. “i only did what i did because you’re not a killer and i didn’t want you to go through an avoidable min-terogation.”

ethan’s lips twitched into a grin. “thank you.”

“we’re best friends,” you told him, in spite of the wrenching feeling of your heart at your own words. “you’d do the same thing for me, right?”

“i’d do anything for you. die for you.” kill for you, was what he really wanted to say, but he was playing it safe. “anything.”

it was ridiculous how much you wanted him and how much deeper you fell for him at those words.

but the lies didn’t stop there. and with more lies came more deluding yourself. ethan would make plans with you then sometimes drop them at the last minute, coincidentally all on the exact same nights your friends would get attacked. mindy, who’d you been getting closer with prior to the new ghostface killing spree, didn’t even want to talk to you anymore unless it was to accuse you of being a murderer.

which you couldn’t hold against her, but it made you sad. you were many things, but a killer wasn’t one of them. sam was practically the only one interested in having one-on-one conversations with you anymore.

“listen,” sam said, holding a cigarette. “i trust you. if nobody else understands you, i do.”

that meant something to you. “thanks.”

“but,” sam started, making you frown as your eyes locked on the buzzing city around you. there were cars speeding every which way, whipping by in a colorful blur. “i think you should keep your distance from ethan.”

your lips curled into a scowl. “you don’t trust him.”

sam said nothing, just letting out a sigh. 

“he’s been with me,” you lied, giving her a stern look. 

“i’m not saying that he hasn’t,” sam told you calmly, meeting your eyes. “i’m just saying it’s weird that every time the group has a near-death encounter with ghostface you two are coincidentally always together. that’s all.”

that was the same conclusion you’d reached a long time ago, but you didn’t want to believe that your best friend was a serial killer. much less that he would dare hurt your friends.

“i was in love before i met danny, you know. with richie,” sam spoke up after a lull of silence.

“yeah, the ghostface that was working with amber freeman, i know. you told me,” you reminded her, raising a brow. “why are you bringing that up?”

“because it’s no secret that you have feelings for ethan.”

your eyes flickered. “i’m not-”

“you are,” sam finished. “in love with him. but love is blind. if i didn’t have feelings for richie, i might’ve realized what was going on sooner, but i did. and i don’t want you to make that same mistake that almost cost me my sister.”

you sucked in a breath. hot tears pricked your eyes, threatening to cascade. you’d considered that you might have had feelings for ethan, but hearing it aloud really solidified things. you were out of your mind in love with your best friend who may or may not have been a killer, and that was why you covered his tracks without a second thought.

“please,” sam whispered, looking at you with desperation in your eyes. “if there’s anything you’re not telling us that could help, tell me. i understand.”

“ethan’s not a killer.”

“are you convincing me or yourself?”

“ethan’s not a killer,” you said with a little more vigor, but a lot less confidence. “i’ve known him since last year and i think i would know if my best friend had murderous tendencies.”

sam said your name, but with one glance at the clock you were already throwing on your coat and heading towards the front door. “i’ve got to go meet him,” you announced, turning on your heels for a second. “i’ll send you a pic or something to prove that he was there if that’s what you want.”

then you left. 

ethan was already inside your apartment when you got there, which wasn’t alarming because you’d given him a spare key a couple of months prior to this fiasco. likewise, you knew where he hid the spare to his and chad’s apartment.

“hey,” ethan said when he saw you enter the living room, glancing up from his phone. “i didn’t start the movie.”

“i see that,” you said, taking out your phone from your pocket. “do me a favor and look cute while i take a quick picture of you.”

ethan covered his face when he saw you pointing your phone at him. “what? you can’t do that - i’m camera shy!”

“oh, please,” you droned. “basically everyone thinks that you’re fucking ghostface and i wanted to have a picture of you ready to go just in case someone gets attacked. again.”

“to prove that i’m not ghostface?”

you mocked, “now you’re getting it!”

ethan rolled his eyes. then, he sobered, staring at you emptily. “what if i am ghostface?”

“what?” 

“i mean, what if mindy’s right - what if i’m… dangerous,” he said, rising to his feet. you were rooted in place when he crept towards you. “i’m always coincidentally missing during the attacks, and everyone thinks i’m with you, but we both know that that isn’t true.”

you could hear your heart thumping in your ears, getting louder with every step he took forward until he’d backed you into a wall, effectively caging you like an animal. “don’t you ever wonder where i am?”

you shook your head. 

“you’re such a liar. a very pretty liar,” ethan whispered, lips curling into a wicked grin. warmth spread through your chest. ethan thinks i’m pretty. “speaking of which - why do you lie for me? i mean, i don’t even have to ask.”

“because you’re not a killer and i want to save everyone time,” you told him, though your voice had completely lost all thunder and confidence.

ethan groaned, throwing his head back. “okay, this excuse was cute the first couple of times, but i’m bored now. i need you to come up with something else.”

“it’s the truth,” you whispered. 

“no, it’s not. and you wanna know what i think?” asked ethan, curling your hair around his finger. “i think it’s because you like me.”

your throat went dry and you shook your head. 

“no?” ethan asked, cocking his head to the side. “well, i have to admit that i like you. i know we’re just best friends and all, but… would it be so bad if we were more?”

there was a record scratch in your head. ethan liked you?

something switched in you. all rational thinking was officially off the table. you were now consumed by months-worth of pining that was rotting you from the inside out like a spoiled apple, and something made you raise on the tips of your toes, meeting your lips to ethan’s.

ethan was surprised for a split second at your boldness, then chuckled, trapping you in his arms. it was a reckless kiss, full of mutual longing and hair-pulling, and groaning. you tangled your fingers through his long, curly tresses while his found purchase at your hips, holding you tight as ever.

“i want you,” you rasped when your mouths finally parted, as if you were coming up for air at the pits of an ocean, swimming in each other’s love. “more than anything.”

“yeah?” 

“yeah,” you repeated, staring into his beautifully brown eyes. 

“fuck,” ethan said, locking lips with you again. almost like he couldn’t get enough. 

frankly, you couldn’t, either.

that was how you ended up with your back to the couch, ethan’s fingertips on your bare thighs as he held them apart, head buried between your legs. all you could feel was pleasure and the lingering drumming of your heartbeat, numb to the grief and despair that’d mantled over your friends for the past few weeks.

there was something about the view of your legs thrown over ethan, caught over his broad, naked shoulders, while he was on his knees sucking the soul out of you. you remembered how he gathered your thighs in his big hands and pulled you towards the edge, draping your legs over him.

“fuck, ethan,” you whimpered, slipping your fingers through his hair. “you sure you’ve never done this before?”

ethan silently nodded, making a humming sound that shook you. his tongue was giving its undivided attention to your clit, a pair of his fingers stuffed inside your cunt. he wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing, but from the way your features tensed with pleasure, it had to be something right.

you were driving him mad with lust and you were hardly even doing anything. the way you cried out his name with that sweet tongue of yours when his thumb rubbed your clit should have been a crime, to say nothing of how utterly tight you were around his fingers, squeezing around him with the wettest of sounds.

shit, he got you this wet? ethan - much like everybody else - knew you had a thing for him with how you defended him with your life, though this was desire of the next level. in a way, it was more than lust. it was burning. from the head down, judgment clouded by mantles of smoke, so to speak.

which explained everything on your end. the lying, the deception. you knew in your heart that there was almost nothing that you wouldn’t do for him, because you loved him.

“oh my fucking god,” you cried, sensitive. “ethan, baby, i’m so close.”

ethan was painfully hard right now, rutting his hips against the side of the couch at your pretty sounds. “you’re close?” he repeated, in spite of the signs glaring him in the face. your legs trembled like you were quaking, a pulse between them. 

you answered him in a moan, hands slipping out of his hair as you instead squeezed one of the couch pillows for dear life, afraid of hurting him.

“cum for me,” ethan said, lifting from your glistening pussy while substituting his mouth with his hands. “i wanna see you cum.”

looking at his eyes was all it took to shatter you. it was too quick for him to be finishing you, but he was. nice and hard.

it was like nothing you’d ever felt before, a kind of intensity you quickly understood only lived between each other. his name parted your open mouth in a scream-adjacent sound sure to do a number on the neighbors and your fingers found purchase in the pillow pressed to your bosom as your vision blurred white. ethan could feel you tightening around his long, thick fingers, and he so badly wished that it was his dick you were cumming on right now.

then, you went slack, not even realizing your back had arched off the sofa until it met the cushion again.

ethan, in awe at the sight of you orgasming, withdrew his fingers from your pussy with a squelch and said, “open.”

you opened your mouth without a second thought.

it took you by surprise when he shoved his fingers down your throat, but you sucked your own arousal off of them without a second thought - without having to be told. it was like you always just knew what he wanted. pleased, ethan hummed, “that’s it.”

you were back to earth for a second, slowly re-entering the real world as the lingering euphoric high of your orgasm gently faded. you took his fingers out of your mouth when you were done, smiling at the sight of him with your arousal giving his lips a wet glimmer. like you wanted to make him proud.

“you, woman,” ethan started, sucking in a breath. “are going to drive me crazy.”

you giggled, watching him come to a stand, though not without accidentally bumping your (thankfully empty) coffee table and sending it flat to its side. the two of you devolved into more giggles and ethan leaned over you to catch your lips in another kiss.

but as his lips started to travel lower, your giggles turned into soft sighs. you fumbled with his pants, somehow managing to take them off.

when his underwear came off too, you gaped at the sheer size of him. he was so big. matter of fact, that word didn’t do him justice.

ethan pushed your jaw up and teased, “you’ll catch flies.”

“oh, shut up,” you groaned lightheartedly. “jesus, you really walk around with that pussy-destroyer attached to you?”

ethan snorted at your choice of words. “can i destroy yours?”

you chortled, amused. “never say that again,” you whispered, grabbing the back of his head and drawing him into you. 

ethan smiled into your lips. i’ll take that as a yes.

so that was exactly what he did.

you thought about what happened that night a dozen times, deciding it was simultaneously the best and worst mistake of your life. on the one hand, you’d had amazing, mind-blowing orgasms thanks to ethan and he reciprocated your feelings. you thought he did, at least. you couldn’t really tell if it was genuine or just some kind of unnecessary bait to get you to sleep with him, as if you wouldn’t have offered your body to him on a silver platter regardless. 

whatever he wanted, his wish was your command. but on the other hand, that was your problem, guilt gnawing at you from the inside out. fear, too. you were a macher, you had the blood of a serial killer keeping you alive. you’d always felt guilty for that, but then you remembered ethan’s weird behavior prior to that first kiss.

a part of you wanted to believe he was joking around, just like you always believed him when he told you he was doing this or that while your friends fought for their lives. but contrary to what you told him, you did think about where he was all those times when he stood you up. you just tried to drown the thoughts out.

but you couldn’t drown them out now. what if he was the killer? no, that doesn’t make sense. ethan wouldn’t hurt anybody, would he?

it made sense, but you didn’t want to accept that all the signs pointed to him. sam was wrong. love wasn’t blind - not for you. you noticed all the little things, all the big ones, too, and never said a word to anyone.

that was why you felt guilty. 

you are such a fucking dumbass, you chided yourself. you’d slept with a potential killer, which ironically made things make even more sense. if ethan did like you like he said he did, that would explain why you were the only ones who’d yet to get hurt at all, much less be in the same room during the attacks.

shouldn’t ghostface have at least called you? you were in the friend group too, and close to sam. matter of fact, you were a target. they’d tried to frame you for the crimes. you still remembered sitting in detective bailey’s office with sam and tara, baffled.

that was when your phone started to ring. 

you jolted, startled. maybe it was ethan, who’d been trying to reach you for the past few days following the hookup, but you were too conflicted to speak to him right now. or maybe it was ghostface, but all your friends were pretty sure that was a synonym for ethan at this point.

when you looked at the caller id, much to your surprise, it was mindy. you pressed your phone to your ear and said, “hello?”

“hey, ghostface,” greeted mindy. you heard chad and sam groan in the background, saying something about her needing to stop being so mean to you. “the gang are at chad’s job and you’re invited to the hangout.”

“you’re hanging out,” you started, trying to wrap your head around her words. “at chad’s job?”

“we’re hanging out,” chad said, having snatched the phone from mindy. you also figured that you were on speaker. “come on, it’ll be fun. it’s a wednesday night, nobody ever comes here on wednesday nights. plus, you can get discounted surfboards.”

you grumbled, “what the fuck am i going to do with a surfboard?”

“i don’t know. surf, maybe?” chad retorted.

“give me my phone back,” mindy snarled, taking her phone from her twin. “listen, sam said you should come and i don’t think her wrath is something you wanna deal with right now.”

“okay, i’m coming. i’m coming,” you said, swiping your keys on the counter and slipping on your shoes. 

“see’ya.”

the call disconnected. “jesus,” you mumbled under your breath, heading out the front door.

chad worked part-time at a surf shop that happened to not be too much of a distance from your apartment. you walked inside, chad behind the bar flirting with tara, mindy and sam arguing over a surfboard design that mindy thought that was hideous and sam found cute, but your eyes locked on ethan.

you didn’t know why you thought that he wouldn’t be here.

you shifted your gaze. this was about to be the most awkward hangout of your life. 

“look who’s here in the flesh,” chad announced, almost looking surprised to see you there.

mindy clasped her hands together and said, “yes, instead of cutting other people’s flesh.”

chad groaned, “god, mindy, could you stop with the accusations for five goddamn seconds?”

“it’s fine, chad,” you said, ignoring her. “so, remind me why we’re hanging out at a surf shop of all places again?”

“because what better place to hang out than at a shop with terrible surfboard designs,” replied mindy. 

sam exclaimed, “the design was cute!”

“to you,” mindy and tara retorted in unison.

ethan had been watching you, and his fixed gaze was not lost on you, but you had no intention of reconciling with him right now. he shifted his attention and asked, “what if we get, like, attacked?”

mindy brushed him off. “you’re here, ghostface. why would we get attacked?”

“i mean, there is usually more than one,” you added, not sparing ethan a glance in spite of the fact that you could feel his weighty stare on your shoulder. 

mindy pointed at you. “that’s why you’re here, too.”

is that what this was about - they were trying to see if you were ghostface?

“we were together,” you insisted, as if that were the problem.

mindy rolled her eyes, mocking, “‘i was with ethan’ this, ‘ethan was with me’ that. yeah, chopping up people’s bodies like bonnie and clyde!”

you glanced at sam who immediately raised her hands, as if to say she was innocent. you thought she trusted you.

that was when you saw a cloaked figure closing in on her and you screamed, “behind you!”

sam skirted out of the way just in time to slip shy of the ghostface’s knife, alarming the six of you. you all immediately started to run, screaming in terror.

chad darted from behind the cash register with tara’s hand in his, dashing over to the entrance, but the door was locked from the inside. he grumbled, “what the fuck?”

you glared, shouting, “are you sure he’s not the killer?”

“don’t ever fucking say that again,” tara exclaimed in lieu of mindy, and frankly you weren’t inclined to get on the bad side of multiple people, so you kept your mouth shut.

then, the unimaginable happened, and the ghostface started charging after you. you ran as fast as you could, almost tripping over your own feet, zipping past racks of clothes. the ghostface caught you at a surfboard stand. you slid to the left, but it followed you, and the pattern repeated when you slid to the right. you made an instinct-driven decision to snatch one of the (agreeably ugly) surfboards off the stand that mindy and sam had been debating over, smacking the masked figure with it.

then, you ran for your life. 

chad pointed at the surfboards and exclaimed, “see, they come in handy!”

you couldn’t be annoyed right now of all moments. what the fuck am i going to do with a surfboard? it looked like you had your answer.

the ghostface gave up on pursuing you for the meantime, chasing sam upstairs. mindy went behind her, and before following suit, chad said to tara, “there’s an exit at the back of that room. go see if it’s open.”

tara nodded, running away at the speed of light.

ethan tugged your hand and pulled you behind a shelf of flip-flops, pulling you towards the ground. you crept down, glancing around the corner, watching ghostface slash sam in the arm with a wince while you were hidden.

“why the hell have you been avoiding me?” ethan asked, whispering yet yelling at the same time.

you narrowed your eyes at him in disbelief. “do you really wanna talk about this while there’s a maniac chasing us with a knife?”

“yes, i do really wanna talk about this while there’s a maniac chasing us with a knife,” ethan retorted, briefly spying from the end of the shelf. “did you have some kind of post-nut clarity?”

you exhaled a breath. something like that, yeah. “i just need time to think.”

“you just need time to think?”

you bobbed your head. 

ethan was obviously not pleased, asking, “what is there to think about? i like you and you like me.”

“and all our friends that we’re fucking bonnie and clyde,” you retorted.

“is that so bad?” ethan asked, nudging your side. “you don’t wanna be my ride-or-die?”

you didn’t get the chance to respond before you saw mindy topple over the railing and you rushed over to shove a clothing rack out of her way. it was a less than graceful fall and it still hurt like a bitch, but a lot less than metal. she rolled off your back, murmuring a faint, “thank you.”

you gave her a weak thumbs up. 

you flitted your gaze upstairs just quick enough to see chad push the ghostface down to the ground floor. you pushed mindy out of the course of the fallen, broken railing, rolling over, and watched the ghostface crash into a glass display.

that was when tara ran from the back room, exclaiming, “the door was locked, but i got it open. come on - let’s motherfucking go!”

the five of you ran behind her, you and tara running upstairs to help sam - she had been stabbed in the arm - and tugging her out without looking back.

apparently you and sam were the only ones who drove your way to chad’s job, so tara took her keys and the six of you split up into two groups of three, agreeing to meet at the hospital.

but it didn’t stop there. 

after getting bandaged up, sam said that she wanted to end things now - there was no point in drawing it out and waiting for more bodies to drop. you gave the killer an advantage that way. it was fortunate enough that none of you were killed during the attack, though mindy was still recovering from when she was stabbed and that, on top of today’s injuries, landed her a stay at the hospital.

the doctors said that had you not broken her fall, it would have been more serious.

there was a consensus that you’d call kirby and detective bailey, who both told you to gather at the shrine. ethan stayed behind to have some injuries looked at, but the other four of you went straight to the theater.

wrong move.

it was you that got the call from detective bailey with the newfound information on agent kirby. you’d been trying to clear the theater with sam when your phone rang, startling the both of you. you put the phone on speaker so that he could speak with both you and sam, your heart racing when he informed you both that she was no longer with the fbi and you guys needed to get out of there expeditiously. which you tried to do, but the doors were locked.

it all happened so fast.

one second, you were looking for an escape, and the next, you’d come face-to-face with ghostface. you and sam burst through the door to the concession stand room, startling chad and tara, the latter who had a slash going down her back.

you helped chad deter the ghostface while sam grabbed tara, and the four of you ran for lives. it felt like you were running in circles (probably because you were), as if you were in some sort of labyrinth. all the doors were locked. when you circled back to the concession stand, chad got stabbed just as you were running out of the door.

“no, chad!” screamed tara. 

your heart wreched at the sight of chad dropping to his knees, blood gathering in his mouth and tears pricking his eyes, but you said to tara, “tara, we’ve gotta go, there’s nothing we can do for him right now.”

“run,” was the last thing chad whispered before he fell to the floor.

you, sam, and tara begrudgingly ran into the theater, abandoning chad. kirby ran into view, obviously a little roughed up, and said, “i’m here!”

“stay back,” you warned. 

tara hissed, “we know it’s you, kirby.”

kirby was baffled. “what? no - one of them knocked me out!”

“get away from the girls,” shouted detective bailey, practically materializing out of thin air.

“what? whatever he’s been telling you, he’s lying!” kirby shouted, eyes widening in horror when she saw one of the ghostface coming up behind detective bailey. “behind you!”

just as detective bailey was about to get stabbed, he shot kirby to the floor and the ghostface retracted the knife. all you, sam, and tara could do was watch as everything unfolded before your eyes - all of the secrets and lies. “great job,” bailey said, lowering his gun as the second ghostface came to stand beside him. “both of you.”

“you?” tara asked. 

detective bailey drawled, “yeah, of course me. frankly, i expected more from you and your sister after what you did to us.”

tara furrowed her brows. “what do you mean us?”

the ghostface to his left started to remove their mask, and when ethan unmasked himself, you stood there empty. there was no emotion stirring inside you - no pain, no fear, no anger, no shock. it was like you’d been milked dry to numb you for this moment where you’d run out of places to hide from the truth. where you’d have to confront it head-on.

sam glanced at you, your dull, expressionless face compared to hers and tara’s. “did you know?”

tara shook her head, looking at you with betrayal. “were you in on it?”

you said nothing. you felt nothing.

“this was your grandmother’s, sam,” ethan said, holding up his mask. “i guess it really does run in the fucking family. speaking of family, my name’s not ethan landry!”

detective bailey chuckled while the three of you were left in the dark. 

“is it, dad?” ethan asked, grinning. 

both of them started to laugh borderline hysterically, as if something was funny. 

tara repeated, “dad?”

sam took a deep breath. “wait, if it’s you two, that just leaves… mindy?”

the moment of silence before the other ghostface unmasked themself was the most dreadful of all, and you felt a weird combination of relief and shock when you saw quinn’s ginger hair as she sang to sam and tara, “hey, roomies. didn’t see that one coming, did you?”

tara exclaimed, “yeah, because you died!”

“kind of didn’t, though,” quinn said. “it was a good way to get off the suspect list. stab gale weathers, stab mindy on the train. that sort of thing.”

detective bailey nodded along, wrapping his arms around their shoulders. “yup, and i just made sure i was first on scene so i could switch her body out with a fresh one. a little fake blood, a prosthetic. you’d be amazed at what a grieving father can get away with.”

“i got your father’s mask,” quinn said to you, walking around with stu macher’s mask. “he was my favorite.”

you frowned.

detective bailey went on some rant that you didn’t entirely grasp because your head was spinning, though it wasn’t necessarily directed to you as much as it was the carpenter’s, which made you second-guess your involvement in this. why frame you for your own boss’ death if they didn’t want you dead, too?

“you’re a killer,” detective bailey said, pointing to sam. “just like your father!”

sam screamed, “no, i’m not!”

quinn screamed even louder, face tensing with anger, “yes, you are, motherfucker - you killed our brother!”

“you said your brother died in a car accident,” tara reminded.

“no, no, no, you sweet, dumb thing,” ethan said. “he died in woodsboro at the hands of your sister.”

sam glanced from ethan to quinn until her eyes finally landed on detective bailey again and the realization settled in within the three of you. she said after a moment, “you’re richie’s family.”

“yeah,” detective bailey said somberly. “now, it wasn’t until i saw those photos of what you did, i knew that you had to fucking die - you had to be punished! along with anyone else who stands in our way.”

you felt all the air whoosh out of your lungs when detective bailey finally seemed to perceive you, glancing towards you. he said your name. “you’re probably wondering what the hell this has to do with you. stu macher was richie’s favorite too, you know. and when i found out that his illegitimate daughter was friends with my son, well, i knew you could be useful.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you exclaimed. 

bailey waved you off. “you proved yourself to be very useful indeed, without having to be asked. being ethan’s alibi every time without fail in spite of being the only one to know he’s never where he says he is? come on, you’re a smart girl. i’m sure you knew who he was long before this.”

you looked to your feet, cowering. you could feel sam and tara’s eyes on you and it made you queasy.

tara made a jab at detective bailey which led him to go on another tangent about not being the perfect father and the bond between a father and his first-born son, but your eyes were locked on ethan. you could feel his stare on you, too, his pair of eyes as weighty as the carpenter’s. you could see something in him falter the more bailey went on about richie, but something hadn’t been right with him since the reveal. he seemed so… out of it.

bailey shifted his attention back to you, having had enough of being distracted by the sisters, and said your name again. “i dragged you into this to make you a deal. you’ve already proved that you would make a great partner. and i want you to be on our team.”

tara shouted, “what?”

“nobody’s talking to you, bitch,” roared quinn.

“you have to pick a side. them,” detective bailey said, waving his knife towards sam and tara. “or us.”

the spotlight was on you. your heart was racing, thumping in your ears. it felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. you stood in the middle. to your left, you saw sam and tara, shaking their heads in an attempt to discourage you. but to your right, you saw ethan and his family, ethan giving you the blankest, stare. 

it almost felt apologetic, but this was do-or-die now. you couldn’t let your affairs of the heart take your life.

the detective tried to win you over, starting, “this is what your father would have wanted. don’t you want to make your daddy proud?”

you’d been walking over to them, much to sam and tara’s dismay, but those words made you grind to a halt as everything became clear to you. and you fucking chuckled. “you don’t care about ethan.”

detective bailey’s brows furrowed. “what are you talking about?”

ethan shouted, “you watch your mouth!”

you shook your head, raising your hand at ethan from afar as you put the pieces together. “no, i bet it’s always richie this, richie that. ethan, did you want to do this from the jump?”

“of course, he did,” bailey lied, sneering at you. “this is for his brother!”

“god, do i know,” you groaned. your eyes locked on ethan. “i’m sure the idea sounded brilliant in your head. juke the roommate lottery, meet chad, kill all your friends and maybe, just maybe dad will love you the way that he loved richie. is it working? did you make daddy proud? are you proud of him, detective bailey?”

quinn screamed at the top of her lungs, “shut the fuck up!”

but you didn’t. you kept talking. you kept pushing. “i know who my father was. and i know who i am. maybe i was scared that because his blood is running through me right now, that i’d end up just like him. but i’m more than stu macher’s daughter.”

detective bailey looked unimpressed and ready to get this over with. “what exactly are you, then?”

“i’m the girl that’s going to walk out of here and live to tell the story,” you hissed, much to bailey’s amusement. 

you shifted back to your would-be boyfriend.

“so, ethan. you choose. do you want to be the hero in my story,” you pointed to sam and tara. “or the villain?”

it wasn’t unnoticed how you looked detective bailey plain in the eye.

everybody’s eyes were on ethan. the silence was the most terrifying of it all, the prolonged agony of the unpredictable. you liked to think that you knew ethan, but this was the only way you could be sure.

the anticipation blindsided everyone in the room when ethan made the shocking decision to walk over to you and spoke, “i just want to be whatever you need.”

you stayed on-guard as he approached you, seeing as he was armed and it could have been a trick, but you were pleasantly surprised when he handed you his knife. 

“well, i need a hero,” you told him. 

“then i’ll be that.”

shit hit the fan and everybody immediately went to war.

ethan grabbed your hand, somehow managing to pull you away undetected as his family dealt with the brutal sting of betrayal by unleashing it onto the carpenter’s.

you whispered, “eth, i can’t stay here. they’re my friends. do you think my father would have just hid?”

ethan shot back, “i thought you didn’t want to be like your father?”

“well, maybe he had some admirable characteristics,” you hissed, beginning to run to protect your friends. 

“wait,” ethan called out, grabbing your wrist. “you’re forgetting something.”

you gave him a confused look, but it all melted away when he smashed his lips against yours, kissing you with all the emotions a man could bear. you kissed him back just as passionately, almost as if it would be the last time.

“i love you,” ethan exhaled when he pulled away, because you two were running out of time. “i never would have hurt you, i need you to know that. that’s why i made plans with you and then i bailed. i wanted to make sure you weren’t there, so you’d be safe.”

“ethan,” you started. 

ethan ignored you, emotionally continuing, “i didn’t want to do this. i just wanted to feel like i meant something to him. and i know sorry isn’t going to bring your friends back, but...”

you cried out, “e, behind you!”

ethan turned around just in time to see quinn trailing him with a knife. “you chose the wrong side, brother. a loose fucking whore over your family?”

“you watch your fucking mouth, quinn,” ethan growled, charging towards his sister. 

you watched in terror, considering he was unarmed. 

“go,” ethan shouted to you, looking back for a second. “baby, go!”

you begrudgingly did as told, running out of the room and locating sam and tara who were currently fighting detective bailey. you hid behind him, undetected, and lunged at him. he heard you approaching and turned at the last second, but his arm still got caught on your blade and you managed to slice him up a little.

“you’re going to regret that,” detective bailey seethed, coming towards you.

out of nowhere, quinn charged back into the room, slightly injured but a beast nonetheless - almost as if the pain didn’t bother her. but you didn’t see ethan, which filled your heart with worry.

you didn’t have time to ask questions, because when quinn saw the knife in your hand and the wound on her father, she immediately beared what was left of her teeth (you had seen sam and tara holding bricks) and came for you.

tara moved at the speed of light and toppled the tv over, the one that had killed your father all those years ago, and sent it crashing down with quinn’s body. you heard something break that obviously wasn’t the tv and saw her go limp.

sam mocked to bailey, “looks like you’re down another child.”

“you,” hissed detective bailey, charging at sam, until you heard a gunshot and he sank down to his knees, wounded. 

you turned around and spotted ethan holding the trigger. he was limping towards you, blood dripping through the fabric of his costume, and he’d obviously been stabbed.

“ethan,” you called out, almost coming over to get him. 

“i’m fine,” he said, holding up his hand to stop you in your tracks. “i’m okay.”

detective bailey glanced at his only remaining child, speaking faintly, “you’re making a fatal mistake, son.”

ethan shook his head, face tensing with rage. “it stops right here, dad. it stops with you. no more of this bullshit.”

sam glanced at you. “you want to do the honors?”

you bobbed your head. “hell, yeah,” you said, walking up to detective bailey’s body. 

“you’re just like your father too,” he hissed. “you always will be!”

“maybe,” you whispered, crouching down. “but you’re forgetting one thing.”

bailey barked, “what?”

“i’d have to actually kill somebody to be just like him, and there’s no one better to start with than you,” you crooned, smiling like the devil. “for richie.”

“for richie,” sam repeated when you raises your knife. 

you jabbed the knife right between his eyes, stabbing as deep as you possibly could as you watched the detective’s face pale, before all the life was drained from it altogether.

when he stilled, it was like a breath of fresh air. sam and tara went to sit at the steps while you came over to ethan, lowering him to the ground and applying pleasure to his wound. he hissed in pain, and you whispered, “sorry. i’m sorry. i know it hurts, but we have to stop the bleeding.”

“it’s okay,” ethan whispered, looking into your eyes. “if i die right now, at least you’ll be the last thing i see.”

“don’t fucking say that,” you whispered, tears burning your eyes. “you’re gonna be okay. we’ll get an ambulance here and they’ll help you, and you’re gonna need a really good fucking lawyer.”

ethan snickered, brushing your hair out of your face. “isn’t the macher family rich?”

you rolled your eyes, bringing your lips to his as you kissed him with all the love in the world. 

he would pull through, you knew he would. everything was going to be okay.

#ethan landry #ethan landry smut #scream 6 #scream 6 imagines #ethan landry x reader #ethan landry x you

[gyusimp]

°•300 followers gift! •°

⚠️Warnings: NSFW, MINORS PLEASE DNI!, Smut content, Very explicit content, Dark content, Kidnapping at Kyogoku house, Stockholm syndrome, submissive reader, Female reader, Insults, Inappropiate languaje, Canon Gyutaro. Read at your own risk.

I reached 300 followers! I promised a good smut so here's a gift from me to all of you for being so amazing. I have no words to thank all your support and kind words since the beginning of this adventure on Tumblr, writing for Gyutaro makes me very happy and it also makes me happier to know that I am contributing a little to this fan club of his. Thank you very much so enjoy! 💚

Special thanks for @mrsshabana and her interesting suggestion 👀

It had already been a long time. were they days? Weeks? Months? You don't remember, but since that day your life took a 180 degree turn. You entered the Kyogoku house with the hope that you could have a better life than you've led up to now, even if it meant selling your body as if you meant nothing. They say that money is not everything in life, surely someone who never lacked for anything said it and now here you were, in your training to learn to be a refined and elegant girl capable of attracting clients with something more than just your physical.

It was easy for you to be accepted, you were one of the few most beautiful girls that existed within the Entertainment District, the house would grow enormously with you so if they didn't accept you it would be stupid. Your beauty had saved your life but it had also condemned you in a way, without you knowing it. You didn't even imagine it.

He had seen you. At all hours of the day, although you could not see him he could watch you, from the dark depths of the shadows he watched you. Every step you took, every word you said he could hear you and hell, you were driving him crazy, just looking at you made him want things that had never crossed his mind before in all his long years of life. Would he just keep watching you or would he do something to change his reality?

His selfishness took him too far this time. You were perfect, you were his and he would not allow you to be contaminated by the dirt of any insignificant worm. You were clean and beautiful, he wouldn't let anyone get their hands on you until it was his turn. If someone was going to try you, it would be him, if someone was going to stain you, contaminate you or desecrate you inside this house, it would be him and no one else but him. He wanted that just by seeing you, everyone would know that you were his and no one else's, that you belonged to him, that every corner of your body screamed his name.

Gyutaro Shabana.

That was when his sister let him do as he pleased, it would be easy to invent a rumor about the girl's escape or murder, it didn't matter. Like her, her brother always got what he wanted. He took you all to himself, he owned you in the darkest and most secluded place in the Kyogoku house, the place furthest from all human contact that no one had the slightest idea existed, where he could remind you that you were his when he wanted.

The first few days were difficult, this client took you all to himself and it seemed like he would never let you go. That twisted idea had no place in your head, you cried, you got angry but no matter how big a scandal you made you couldn't escape from his side.

Those days are just memories now, vague memories where you still can't understand how your way of thinking changed by being by his side. As if you felt anger and frustration when you saw him, you went from wanting him in the same way and doing whatever this man could think of. It would be enough for him to snap his fingers to have you on your knees in front of him completely at his will, because you were his.

Summer was just arriving, the nights, despite being windy, were still hot and irritating. You were in the same place you had been since he took you in trying to find a way to deal with the high temperatures in the environment. Small amounts of sweat began to dampen your body under your clothes, your loose hair was a torment and that feeling between your legs was too annoying. It wasn't because you felt aroused, just the heat made your panties feel very wet for some reason and that was starting to irritate you. When suddenly, he appeared.

Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, your heartbeat quickened, and thrilling joy blossomed from the depths of your chest.

"Gyutaro-sama!" You squealed with excitement.

He walked towards you and you just greeted him as usual. You sat on your knees with both hands resting on the ground in front of you as he continued to move closer to you. You looked at him happily, waiting for his return greeting. Gyutaro watched you from above, from head to toe. He noticed the big blush that was painted on your face, how little hairs stuck to your forehead and shoulders due to your sweating and then he looked down at your chest. Your kimono was slightly open because you were trying to freshen up a few minutes ago, which left the beginning of your breasts exposed, making Gyutaro start to feel hard.

He cupped your chin in his thin, bony fingers and forced you to look into his eyes.

"It's hot in here, don't you think?" he asked, with a lazy smile.

"O-Of course, it's quite annoying!"

He kept looking at you "It's different for demons but..." he placed his thumb over your lips, touching them with his fingertip noticing that they were a bit dry. "I suppose you'd do anything to get some water, wouldn't you?"

Water. That would be the solution, you were dying and you didn't know why but Gyutaro had given you the answer. You were probably dehydrated so that was what would get rid of this unbearable heat.

"Yes! You're right!" You answered agitated. "You could get me some, right? You are very good to me, Gyutaro-sama. Could you get me some water?" You asked, eager to hear an answer as you rubbed your face in the palm of his hand as if you were a cat happy to see its owner after a day without seeing him.

Gyutaro laughed after hearing your request. "Of course! You know I can give you whatever you want, as long as you do your part...would you do what daddy asks, sweetie?" He asked.

"Y-yes! Of course I do!" You responded excitedly, almost jumping in place to get closer to him and hold his hands. "You know I would do anything for you, I'm yours!"

Gyutaro watched you with a mocking smile, he thought you were desperately pathetic and that turned him on too much. He loved seeing you so desperate and surrendered at his feet, willing to leave you in his hands so that he could do what he wanted with you.

"Then you'll have to take care of this." Gyutaro took a part of your hair to pull it and bring your head closer to his hip in an abrupt way, to bury your face in his crotch making his length crash against your face. "Look what you've done, my little slut…you'll take care of it."

Gyutaro pulled your hair again and forcefully threw you to the ground so that you were lying on your back. He didn't wait another minute to loom over you in an imposing way and watch you eager to do with you what he wanted.

He took the red ribbon around his neck and took it off, took your hands and tied them above your head to hold you steady. Immediately after, Gyutaro grabbed the collar of your kimono with one hand and pulled it down with all his might to open it, ripping your obi and the rest of the garment leaving you completely naked since you weren't wearing any underwear. Gyutaro looked at you carefully and made fun of you when he saw your extremely flushed face, trying to cover you but your hands were tied.

"What a pathetic and poor girl...I will make you feel like never before." He said between laughs.

Gyutaro settled on you and took your knees with both hands to separate them and open your legs wide, finding your cunt naked and already very wet. He licked his lips and without wasting another minute he pounced on you to start tasting you.

Gyutaro squeezed your thighs hard, making you moan shakily the moment his tongue made contact with your slippery folds. Your hips moved in circles to one side and the other to try to get more pleasure than what Gyutaro was already giving you. You could feel his tongue and teeth running all over your wet vagina, he didn't take breaks, he just devoured you completely like there was no tomorrow. After his mouth had been in each and every one of the corners of your core, he separated from you with a snap coming from his mouth after having made one last suck.

You could feel how wet you were between your legs, a part of your juices had trickled down your butt, wetting your thighs and crotch, mixing with Gyutaro's thick saliva. When he separated from you, a transparent thread was the only thing that united him between your pussy and his mouth. His lips were wet, drops dripping from the corners of his mouth to his chin and he wiped them away with the back of his hand. You felt very aroused and the best of all is that all this was just beginning.

You gave Gyutaro a submissive but daring smile, letting him know you needed more from him. Sometimes, he just bothered you, stimulating you for a while, making you believe that he would fuck you, but actually, he ended up getting up and leaving on purpose, leaving you irritated and desperate. The times when this happened, you usually ended up masturbating, but it was nothing like when Gyutaro did it to you.

"Aren't you going to continue? I thought you wanted to" you said, feigning sadness. "I need more of you and you know it..." your legs stayed open on your own and you weren't going to close them. Gyutaro was in front of you so your intention was that your open and wet cunt was under his gaze to seduce him. "Sure? You don't want to continue?" You asked, you started rubbing against the futon you were lying on to tease him, Gyutaro untied your hands and you lowered your fingers into your pussy. "I'm yours, Gyutaro...see?" You took your labia and spread them wide to expose your wet folds and swollen, throbbing clit to begin rubbing it with your fingers slowly and carelessly until your movements became faster and more rushed as you began to feel more pleasure. "Don't you want to do this? Don't you want to touch me and do everything you want to me?...that's what I'm for!" Your voice was desperate and a bit demanding begging for him. "I told you you could do whatever you want to me so here I am, see?" You said, and you spread your legs more showing Gyutaro your vagina. "Th-this cunt is yours Gyutaro-o...aahh...it's all yours and you can do whatever you want, whatever you want but I-I need you inside, I need you inside of me...j-just take me and do what you want, open me as wide as you can and fuck me until you can't anymore...fuck this little pussy and make me feel complete! Do it Gyutaro-sama!"

Gyutaro removed your hand from your vagina before you could cum on your own, grabbed your hair and turned you to place your chest on the futon, exposing your back. He took you by the waist with both hands hard and put them under you to squeeze your tits making you gasp. Gyutaro came closer to you and lowered one of his hands towards your pussy to insert his fingers directly into your wet hole. Every time Gyutaro moved and arched his fingers inside you there were wet sounds that caused you to get more and more wet.

Your eyes were blank and a thread of saliva ran down your mouth to your chin while you couldn't stop moaning desperately.

"I love to make my whore happy!" Gyutaro said, full of pride in himself. "Do you really want me to do everything you said? Well...you asked for it."

Gyutaro took his hand out of your pussy with another loud sound caused by your juices, he took your hip and made you lift it up, leaning on your knees but without letting your tits come off the futon, arching your back. The only view Gyutaro had now was of your ass so in awe of the view he gave you a hard and painful spank that made you moan. Your ass was on top so he didn't have a perfect view of your hole unlike when he just spreads your legs to fuck you. Gyutaro lowered his hand to your pussy again and began to touch you "looking for your hole" while with the other hand he pulled out his hard dick dripping from his pants and when he finally knew where to enter, he rammed you and penetrated you the first time making you scream with a bang painful pleasure. Your hands were clinging to the futon trying to hold you steady but Gyutaro was too strong and moved too fast. "Is that okay? Is that how you wanted me to fuck you?" he asked sarcastically. Gyutaro cupped your pussy with both thumbs and spread it open to expose your swollen folds. "That's how you wanted me to fuck and open you, right bitch? To fill you up and make you dirty with me, to stain you and make you impure! Are you enjoying it now? Is your pathetic cunt better now or will it still be dripping and writhing for me until i destroy it?!" He spoke mockingly.

You were dying in every way, this hurt as fuck but the pleasure that Gyutaro gave you was completely indescribable, his thick cock was demolishing you but that was what you wanted and you didn't care that your legs and your entire cunt hurt tomorrow and during some days. This is why you were by his side, right? Gyutaro took you by the hips as he dug into you, squeezing your ass and showering you with insults and dirty words, he pulled your hair up to see your expression and your eyes rolling up non-stop moaning until he kissed you abruptly without stopping moving. Gyutaro kept going until he realized how tight your pussy was, your body began to shake and your hair was a mess mixing on your face with your tears, sweat and saliva. Your entire cunt trembled and after feeling that perfect sensation of burning and pleasure at the tip of your clit, you cum. You cum all over Gyutaro's dick just like he did inside you, his release so great that it began to overflow through your folds until it seeped out of your vagina and trickled down your crotch, thighs and knees until it dripped onto the futon and created a small thick puddle under both of them. This orgasm was a relief for you, after having come all you could do was fall on the futon without caring how you got daub in your semen and Gyutaro's. Your eyelids were starting to feel too heavy until you started to close your eyes.

You couldn't even get the water that Gyutaro had promised you because after that amazing fuck, you fell asleep or passed out even with Gyutaro deep inside you. Maybe you had reached your limit but... are you sure that Gyutaro too?

#gyutaro x reader #gyutaro #gyutaro smut #gyutaro shabana #fem reader #smut #minors do not interact #minors dont read #not safe for minors #kny smut #demon slayer smut #kimetsu no yaiba smut

[little-diable]

Whatever you say - Tommy Shelby (smut)

A big thank you to @zablife for inspiring this, and to @runnning-outof-time for the title! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader finds a book without a title in Tommy's office, and the more pages she flips, the more she starts to realize that it's a book filled with drawings of naked bodies.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), body worship, and some fluff

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!reader (1.5k words)

It was late in the afternoon, with the sun threatening to disappear behind the horizon any moment now, as (y/n) found herself standing in Tommy’s office, located in the far back of their shared home. In the early stages of their marriage she had found herself being jealous of this very room, jealous of the time Tommy spent in here – rather than being with her; jealous of the endless nights this room was allowed to hold him hostage, keeping her from him. 

Her fingertips danced across the backs of his books, reading a few titles with chuckles bubbling out of her. She could still remember how he had read some of them to her, murmuring soft words into her ear as they laid in bed, bodies searching one another’s warmth. Times she found herself longing for, wanting to go back to the days where Tommy’s piercing eyes had carried some life in them, not dampened by the blood sticking to his hands like a second layer of skin, not dampened by the rising number of lives he had taken from this world. 

(Y/n) was about to pull her hand from the books as her eyes fell upon a black book, without any title or words on it. She found herself reaching for it, too curious for her own good. Slowly she pulled the book from the shelf, sitting down on the comfortable reading chair standing close by. She opened the book with wide eyes, freezing when she took in the drawing of a naked female body, titled “Not Tonight, Josephine”. 

Trembling hands kept flipping the pages, eyes not able to move away from the paintings of naked bodies, some on their own, some caught up in acts only the devil would guide one through. Each and every one had a title, clearly painted by different people, and with a small gasp rumbling through her, (y/n) took in the last drawing that could be found in the book, with a small “My dearest (y/n)” scribbled beneath it. 

“Tell me,” Tommy’s deep voice echoed through the room, making (y/n) jump in surprise. “What are you doing, you nosy woman?” A cigarette was hanging between Tommy’s lips, arms crossed in front of his chest as he was leaning against the doorframe. His eyes wandered from her surprised features to the book she was holding, clearly tensing. 

“What in God’s name is this, Thomas?” (Y/n) didn’t dare raise her voice – as if she was scared that God himself would listen in on their conversation, picking up on the things no married husband should keep around. Tommy took a step closer, reaching for the book to gently take it from her grasp. 

“Nothing special.” His lips were pulled into a small smirk, an almost boyish grin she hadn’t seen him wearing in weeks. 

“Whatever you say, Tommy.” A chuckle rumbled through him, he tugged on her arm, gently asking her to stand up, so that he could sit down. She found herself placed in his lap moments later, eyes searching his, but Tommy was clearly distracted by the pages he took in. “I took this home from France, we’d take turns drawing in here, so that we could think of our women. I almost forgot I had this.” 

“I don’t know what to say.” A part of her found itself consumed by a wave of heat, flushing through her, making her shift in his lap. The mere thought of Tommy longing for her, even in the darkest chapter of his life, left her heart racing, glad to know that he missed her just as much, and yet she wasn’t sure how she felt about the fact that other men have looked at his drawings. 

“I can throw it out if you want, don’t want to keep it around, if it makes you uncomfortable.” Their eyes met, and even though it took her a few moments to reply, (y/n) only shook her head, taking the book from him to place it down on the small table. She cupped his cheek with her hand, thumb tracing his soft lips, gasping as his hand found the back of her head to pull her in for a bruising kiss. 

It had been days since Tommy had touched her, pulled away by the family business, she was desperate for anything he could give her. Tommy helped her shift around, knees placed on either side of his thighs, dress shuffled up to her waist, allowing her to grind her core against his crotch. 

“Haven’t been able to touch you in too long, huh? I should have paid more attention to my wife. Come, I want to get a proper look at you.” She rose with quivering limbs, squealing as Tommy picked her up, pulling her in for another kiss before they moved towards their bedroom, door falling shut with a heavy thud. 

Tommy placed her down in front of their bed, not letting her move away as his lips found her throat, kissing his way down to her neck. Skilled fingers fumbled with her dress, undoing the lacing as if he had been the one to lace her up this very morning. (Y/n) was covered in goosebumps, having to stop her moans from rumbling through her, bottled in by her teeth buried in her lip. 

“I want to hear you, love, don’t hold back for me.” The dress fell from her frame, underwear following moments later. Tommy gave her a push back, forcing her down on the mattress with him towering over her. His piercing eyes wandered up and down her frame, and even though she had to fight against the need to cover herself up – not used to being exposed to him while he was still fully dressed – she felt her blood growing warmer, cooking in her veins. “God’s finest creation, I still don’t know how I got so fortunate to call you mine.”

Tommy had always been well aware that he wasn’t God’s favourite, forced to adapt to the Devil’s calling. Ever since he had met (y/n), when both had been mere teenagers, he had wondered why God had sent her his way, allowing the only good thing Tommy had ever known to stick around. 

His soft hands danced up her thighs, lust blown pupils not daring to part from hers as he sank down on the mattress, lips finding her inner thighs. Her soft gasps echoed through the bedroom, hand finding his head, tugging on his greyish roots, praying to heaven above that Tommy wouldn’t be called away any time soon. 

“Oh fuck, missed you so much, Tommy.” Her sobs guided him, tongue lapping at her folds, thumb circling her pulsing bundle of nerves, a beautiful torture (y/n) had found herself longing for those past days. She had a hard time staying in the moment, ripped away by the feeling that caught up with her body like a high wave, threatening to drown her, robbing (y/n) of the last drops of air lingering in her lungs. 

Tommy’s tongue dipped into her tightness, smirking against her folds as a high-pitched moan left her, eyes rolling back into her head. Her hips began to shift, subconsciously trying to push herself even closer towards his warm mouth, begging the man to never let her go again. 

(Y/n) was too far gone to pay attention to his wandering hand, to the way he slowly pushed two fingers into her tightness. Her sobs grew louder, struggling to stop herself from giving in right there and then, ripped away by the feeling of his soft fingertips pushing against her swollen spot. She swore that she could see stars in this very moment, no longer one with her body. 

“It’s alright, let go, love.” It didn’t take her more than that, allowing her orgasm to consume her body, making her choke on her groans and moans. Tommy’s fingers kept moving, pushing her further and further towards the dark abyss she had been stuck in ever since marrying the reaper of Small Heath. 

With a small chuckle Tommy pulled his fingers from her, bringing them up to his lips to lick them clean before he moved up her body, kissing her softly. “Are you alright?”

“I am, but don’t you dare think I’ll let you leave after this.” And with a smile shot his way, (y/n) wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, forcing Tommy to flip them around.

#Tommy Shelby smut #Tommy Shelby imagine #peaky blinders imagine

[iheardarumorthings]

HEY BESTIE CAN U MAKE A BLURB OR SOMETHING ABOUT FIVE HARGREEVES DURING THE FIRST EP OF S3 like yk the one where he saw delores after jayme spits on him and the reader who happens to date him saw it and like "wtf is he doing" and heard the name delores coming out of his mouth and the reader just goes silence after that scene BECAUSE THE READER IS THINKING ABOUT IT A LOT LIKE "is he actually still in love with a mannequin" and like very angsty afterwards but Five confronted her why she's being so quiet after their visit at the sparrows and the rest is up to u :] TYSM IDK ITS MY 1ST REQUEST ACTUALLY AND I CANTTT STOP THINKING ABT S3

ANGSTANGSTANGST

warnings: i think there's swearing, female reader (in my mind, but i can't remember using pronouns), angst. hardcore angst

tags: @mad-elia

PERFECTION

You were both running to get to Allison, his arm was around your waist, the other arm stretched toward the cornered woman. 

“Thanks,” she heaved once the three of you made it to the upstairs. 

“No problem,” Five said.

And then you saw her. She was a taller woman with electric black hair and green eyes. 

He told you guys to go, that he’d handle the woman. While Allison ran, you lingered, hiding behind the wall, watching.

He hit her over the head and she let out a groan of pain. Good. He could handle anything, your boyfriend. You had no doubt he’d be able to handle this easily; after all, he was probably the quickest thinker out of everyone. He could do anything and everything and that was only one reason you were irretrievably, desperately in love with the man.

And then came the spit, along with a hiss bubbling from the woman’s mouth. Jayme, you think her name was. Jayme. It sounded about right.

You wrinkled your nose, much like Five who began to berate her. “Agh! Hey, gross, alright?”

But before he could continue the usual lecture about sanitation, his face went glassy. Sweat built up on his forehead, and he began to walk around almost aimlessly.

“What the hell?” you heard him whisper. His eyes were directed toward the stairs, as were Jayme’s.

You ran out, looking at him, but didn’t touch him. Disturbing people when they’re in a trance could end dangerously, you heard. 

“What did you do to him?” you whispered, but she heard it and only smiled. It wasn’t one of those soft smiles; it was something similar to Five’s smile when he was irked. It was crooked, fake.

“I’m only showing him what he wants, kid.”

“Dolores?” Five whispered. You could feel your heart shatter.

The mannequin; that mannequin that sat with the both of you through the darkest nights of the apocalypse. She was there through everything; he always seemed to choose her over you. Even after you two were together. Dolores this; Dolores that; “Dolores would look good in this, wouldn’t she?”; “Dolores, you’re perfect”; “Dolores, I love you”.

You thought it was over. You thought he was over the stupid mannequin; you thought he loved you, only you. You thought that you two were meant for one another, the stupid soulmate shit everyone preached. But, you could see now, you clung on too tightly to the dreams a little girl would have.

You could see him break out into a smile, a genuine one. “Dolores.”

And then came the italian. 

“Really? Italian? Holy shit. Do you think I could get out of this without fighting you?” you asked Jayme. She raised an eyebrow at you before quickly turning to Five. “I’m way to tired for-”

He began to make out with thin air. 

Well, fuck.

“Okay, I’m just going to go,” you said, holding back the tears that threatened to spill.

You only just turned your back when you heard Five tumble down the stairs.

~*~

“Just gonna sit. I’m just gonna sit for a minute,” Luther groaned.

Your bones were cracking. You could practically collapse right there, plopping down on the top of the bench, lying there, mimicking Klaus on the table next to yours.

“Oh, I’m cracking,” Klaus said, a grit to his voice. You could second that.

“You all good, Klaus?”

“Fine, (Y/N/N), you?”

“Could be better.”

Five climbed on top of the table, sitting on the edge and placing your head gently in his lap. He began to run his fingers through your hair, his rhythm was constant. His love wasn’t. He grazed a cut and you hissed.

“That’s one hell of a cut, Sweetheart,” he mused quietly. You used that as an excuse to get out of his lap.

“I’m fine.”

You could see him flinch- just barely, not enough to catch if you weren’t paying close attention- at the slight harshness in your tone.

Good.

~*~

“CHET! Mon frère! I’d like my usual suite, por favor!” Klaus announced excitedly to the man at the front desk. He was older, his wrinkles prominent, but his hair still maintaining a blondish color that grasped onto hints of youth. 

“I’ve never seen you before,” Chet deadpanned. 

“See? Told you. Discreet.”

“Great job, Klaus,” you giggled; in turn, he wrapped an arm around you and wrestled you into his side.

“Don’t sass me, kiddo. There is such thing as a time out corner, you know.”

The dog’s whimper interrupted the conversation very quickly. 

“Please stop scaring my dog,” Chet said.

“We need some rooms, please.”

“Super.” Chet pulled out a sign with the words only a nightmare could hold. “And how will we be paying today?”

Well shit.

“Fine,” Luther said. “Empty your pockets. Come on; something.”

You dug around in your pockets, finding a dagger and an extinguished cigarette. 

“(Y/N)! Come on, really?” Five scolded.

“As if you haven’t had a cigar before.”

“Condoms?” Luther asked.

“I think you can exchange those for cash,” Klaus replied, causing you to giggle.

“Come on, you two, put the knives away!”

Luther looked around. “Oh, all right,” he sighed, removing his watch. Klaus marveled at it as he handed it to Chet. Examining it, Chet grabbed three room keys.

“Well, let’s Brady Bunch this bitch.”

~*~

Only one room had one bed, so you and Five were assigned to that one.

“Let’s unpack. Settle in.”

“And what do we have to unpack?” you questioned, eyebrow cocked.

“Yes, Darling, isn’t that liberating?”

“Fair enough.”

“Alright then,” Five said. “Let’s fix you up.”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

You didn’t want him touching you anymore. You didn’t want him lying to you anymore.

“You know what I mean.”

“Fine. I’ll get Allison in here-”

“Why Allison?” he asked, eyebrows furling. You could see the hurt flash in his eyes. Your heart broke and soared at the same time.

“You know why, Five. I saw everything.”

“Everything? I don’t get it.” He approached you, reaching out. You pulled back. He took another step forward. This kept going until your back hit the wall. He quickly brought his arm up, trapping you there. “I don’t understand. Why can’t I take- what did you see?”

You laughed, but stared at his arm. He was serious.

His other hand made its way to your hairline, brushing it softly. “I don’t understand.”

You recoiled, causing him to flinch once more.

“Sweetheart, we’re done. It’s all over; no more apocalypse, no more nothing. This is it! We can be happy- just… tell me what happened. I’ll fix it. I swear I will. I can’t afford to lose you after everything. I’ll fix everything, I promise, just please tell me what-”

“I saw you making out with thin air.”

“After what Jayme did? I thought I told you to run-”

“I hung back to make sure there wasn’t any funny business.” His arm loosened and you made your exit, walking toward the door. He didn’t jump toward you. He didn’t do anything. He just looked. “Turns out, there was some funny business. You’re still hung up on Dolores.”

“No,” he whispered. “No, (Y/N), I swear to God, I-”

“I heard everything, Five. So, we’re hanging out here for the next few days and then I’m out. I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.”

“(Y/N), I love you. Not Dolores, you.”

“I have come second to her after years, Five. Years I have waited for you to come around, and when you finally did, I was stupid enough to believe it was true. I was foolish enough to believe you could actually love me, that someone would actually love me. But, of course, I should’ve known: you can’t get over something so perfect that quickly.”

“You are perfection,” he whispered, tears in his eyes. “You-”

“No, Five. You can’t- I know what I saw. I know what you want, and that’s not me. Now, if you excuse me, Allison will only be available for so long. I’m going to need this cut fixed.”

You walked out the door with tears blurring your vision.

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