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#when you see her attention to detail and hear the way she talks about these characters
lorephobic · 5 months
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“the class commentary in saltburn was shit” WHAT CLASS COMMENTARY???? NOT EVERY MOVIE WITH RICH PEOPLE HAS TO OR SHOULD HAVE CLASS COMMENTARY. EMERALD FENNELL KNOWS VERY WELL THAT SHE IS NOT THE RIGHT DIRECTOR FOR A MOVIE ABOUT CLASS COMMENTARY WHICH IS WHY SHE DID NOT WRITE A MOVIE ABOUT CLASS COMMENTARY.
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fangisms · 7 months
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hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific
darling socialite
A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils
Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words
Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)
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Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.
Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.
"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"
Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"
"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."
"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"
"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"
"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.
"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"
Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.
If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.
You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.
It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."
"What are you talking about, P?" you say.
"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"
"Thanks, Pansy," you say.
"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"
You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.
There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.
"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.
"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"
"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"
"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."
Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.
And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.
"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.
"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.
"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"
Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.
"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."
You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.
"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."
It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.
"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"
He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.
“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.
“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.
“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”
He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.
“Like that?” he says.
“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”
He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”
“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”
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ohdeerfully · 2 months
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K hear me out, a wife! Reader x Alastor and Charlie finds out they had a kid when they were alive. (I don’t mind what the kids name is but make them young and passed due to Spanish flu, dark I know)
omg this has been sitting in my drafts so long, i love requests like this </3 im sorry if it seems rushed, i really wanted to finish it!
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Mourning Dove
Alastor x Reader (angst, slight comfort at end) TW: CHILD DEATH, child sickness, reader referred to as a woman but doesnt effect story too much join my discord! ═══ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ══════════ ◈ ═══
You sat yourself unceremoniously at the bar in the hotel lobby, shoulders slouched and cheek squished against the cold countertop. You weren’t one for alcohol, but you didn’t mind the company of Husk. He didn’t say much unless prompted, but that didn’t bother you. It was nice, honestly, after a day of dealing with the others.
“Somethin’ the matter?” Okay. Nevermind about him not saying much.
“Hmm?” You responded, barely peeking up from your finger that dragged patterns in the surface you laid against. “I’m good.”
“You don’t look it,” Husk observed, and you knew he was referring to the discoloration of your eyes and the residual dampness of your cheeks from crying. Your hair was a mess, too. Yeah, you looked like shit. “Tough day?”
“I guess, yeah,” You sighed, pushing yourself up and leaning back in a stretch while your fingers gripped the countertop to steady yourself. “Just thinking about… Y’know.”
He didn’t pry, and you were thankful for that. Husk did know a little, actually, and knew better than to push for more details. After being stuck with Alastor for so long, with the guy owning his soul and all, he inevitably learned some deep shit about him and, by extension, you. He just grunted in response and went back to spot cleaning his bottles of booze.
“(Y/N)!” A chipper voice called your name, and you squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. You thought you were done with all of this for the day, and you were so ready to just go to sleep. “I wanted everybody to join me for dinner today! We have a few new residents, so I want everybody to meet each other.”
You squeezed your lips to prevent a harsh word from responding to Charlie’s invitation. You were so tired. You feigned a weak smile and looked at her. You wanted to say no, to say you needed to sleep, but those huge, pleading eyes of hers caught the rejection in your throat. You tried to reason with yourself that Charlie doesn’t host stuff like this very often. It would just be one night. You’ll survive.
“Okay.” 
She clasped her hands together and jumped on the balls of her feet, thanked you, and took off to find the next resident to invite. You held your head against your hand and you sighed dramatically. Husk looked at you from the corner of his eye, but opted to remain silent. You stood up after a few more minutes of quiet sulking, deciding you should fix yourself up for dinner.
In your room, you gently fixed your hair and threw on a casual outfit. Nothing super nice, just in case food started flying–knowing the antics of some of the hotel residents, it wouldn’t be a surprise.
You slowly made your way to the banquet room, which Charlie had installed for events like today. You could already hear the low murmur of small talk, and you were surprised to see a few new faces. Not a whole lot, just about five, alongside the familiar faces of your friends. Charlie’s hotel was, slowly but surely, becoming more successful.
You spotted Alastor quickly–he was hard to miss due to his height. You settled yourself in a chair next to him at a long table that Charlie had dragged into the room for everybody to sit at. You felt your skin prickle with the familiar sensation of static, which increased slightly as his attention turned towards you. He gave you a grin before focusing his eyes on the racket that was already picking up. You watched his smile curl, a bit sinister, as the sound of shouting caught your attention.
“-my fuckin’ business!” You picked up the tail end of Angel Dust fuming at Vaggie, one pair of arms crossed under his chest. He had a third hand on his hip, with his fourth hand jabbing an accusatory point at the woman in front of him.
“Guys, please!” Charlie pleaded, pressing her shoulder against Vaggie’s in an attempt to move her away from Angel. “I don’t want to scare my new guests away!”
“Tell this bitch to keep her nose outta my shit! I can’t have my fuckin’ life on the line because she doesn’t like my job!” Angel spat. There was a dangerous, maybe even frantic, look in his eyes. Before Charlie could say anything, Angel had spun around and stormed to the table. He ripped the chair out and slammed his body down. All four of his arms were crossed now as he glowered at the wooden tabletop.
You sighed, and felt a headache already forming. 
Angel’s spirits quickly changed when Husk sulked into the room. He had his paws stuffed in his pockets, and glared at the air in front of him. He sat down at the other end of the table, but Angel was quick to stand up and saunter his way over to sit next to the cat. You couldn’t quite catch the flirtatious remarks that made Husk roll his eyes. 
You observed them for a while, watching as Husk slowly grew more comfortable in the small talk he and Angel shared. He would never admit it, but you knew Husk didn’t hate Angel’s company. Husk seemingly said something about you to Angel that made him whip his head up to look at you. You quickly averted your gaze.
Charlie had been standing by her own chair, and a cough from her throat made the chatter die down. You didn’t really listen to the overly sappy speech she had started to give, your mind drifting away in absent thought. You picked your nails into the edge of the table, fidgeting with the light cloth.
Alastor caught your attention by lightly nudging his leg against yours. You trailed your eyes up to his, meeting his red gaze. There was a hint of worry in his eyes, and his grin twitched at the edges as he looked at your exhausted face. He tilted his head in a silent question.
You merely shook your head in response, and mouthed a quick “it’s nothing” and hoped that he wouldn’t press. He didn’t, but you knew he’d ask again in a private room.
Charlie sat down again, and Vaggie rubbed her shoulder, murmuring a silent praise. You dragged your eyes across the table, making note of the handful of new faces. None of them seemed to take Charlie very seriously, but that didn’t come as a surprise. They probably just liked free food.
The food in question seemingly materialized out of nowhere, and you chalked it up to her “princess of hell” type powers that she didn’t use very often. You smiled gratefully and, though you didn’t have much of an appetite, you started slowly picking at the plate in front of you.
The room once again began to rumble with small talk, but at some point the multiple conversations began to melt together until the whole table was talking to each other in one. Charlie was doing most of the heavy lifting with keeping the conversation going.
“-the deal with the Radio Demon and that gal next to him?” You perked your ears when you heard this reference to yourself. One of the new guests, some sort of lizard demon, had a finger pointed at the two of you. He had a slight country drawl in his voice. You saw Alastor’s smile widen when the attention of the table turned towards himself.
“My darling wife,” Alastor stated simply, briefly placing a hand on your shoulder. His eyes were closed as he smiled proudly. You silently nodded with a light, polite smiling. “We knew each other in life. It’s only natural for us to remain together. It would have been a shame for death to do us part.”
“Didn’t think you was the type…” The lizard said slowly, eyeing the two of you carefully. You didn’t blame him; what kind of nut job would marry the Radio Demon? Though, as Alastor said, you were married before Hell, and he wasn’t so… infamous back then. He was actually rather sweet, besides the whole serial killer thing–which, in your defense, you weren’t even aware of till he was shot to death.
“Didn’t think ya were the type to have a kid, either,” Angel piped up absently, one arm thrown lazily over the back of his chair. You watched as Husk tried desperately to shut him up as he continued to speak, but you barely heard the words over the sound of your heart picking up pace, and the increased radio frequency of Alastor’s. His body had stiffened and his eyes had shot open, quickly narrowing as his smile strained and curled dangerously, his gums visible in a snarl. His eyes were not on Angel, but on Husk, whose ears were flattened against his head and a nervous look in his wide eyes.
You weren’t really paying attention though, but you felt the intense tension and rapid prickling on your skin. Your breathing became more labored and you pointed your face to the table to try to hide the building tears in your eyes. You had tried so hard, all day, to push back the memories that kept threatening to resurface. What are the chances that on the same day, the topic was brought up, destroying the wall you had built to contain the anxiety, regret, grief…
You were kneeling by the wrinkled, messy sheets of the twin bed your son had been in for the past couple days. Your heart was tight, and you could barely breathe as you looked at him. He gazed blearily at the ceiling, following the path of the rocking fan. Every breath he took scratched at his throat, as if there were pebbles blocking the path. He barely had the strength to cough. His lips were dry and cracked, and his graying skin still had a flush of fever. You used a damp rag to clean the dried snot under his nose.
You had tried everything. Every recommended antibiotic, every treatment, therapy, exercise; nothing had worked. Nobody knew how to treat the illness. You had even tried to work with witch doctors that Alastor knew. You had spent so much of what little money you had trying to save your little boy.
Alastor was often gone during this time, being the one to go out and find something new to try. You never left the room, even when your husband tried to push you to go outside to stretch your legs or take a shower. He promised to watch over your son. But you just couldn’t, not with David laying on these dirty sheets, looking so frail, weak, and small. You had often called him little dove, and it made you sick to think that your nickname was now like a cruel adjective to describe his current state. A sick, frail baby bird. He had barely eaten in the past eight days, and you didn’t want to admit to yourself that any scratchy breath he took could be that last one.
You stiffened when his head rolled over towards you, and his eyes struggled to focus on you. His cracked lips grimaced for a moment, followed by a sharp, grating cough that made your heart drop and your eyes sting. You reached a shaky hand forward to smooth down his knotted hair.
“Am I going to be okay,” David said weakly. His voice caught on the tightness in his throat multiple times. “I feel really bad.”
“I know baby, but you’re okay,” You said tenderly, continuing to stroke his hair. “Your dad is getting you some new medicine. You’ll be okay.”
You were lying to him, and to yourself. But you couldn’t help but cling on to a morsel of hope–it was all you could do, really. David just looked towards you, his eyes flicking around slightly, unable to truly focus on anything.
“I’m tired.” He said. His breathing was labored.
“I know.”
Your emotions threatened to spill from your eyes as you watched him turn his head back towards the ceiling, eyes shutting. You didn’t want to cry; you couldn’t, not in front of him. You needed to stay strong for him.
You pressed the back of your hand to his burning forehead, and then trailed your hand to his chest, lightly pressing against him to feel his heartbeat. It was slow, and slowing. Your own heart picked up in response. 
You heard the door in another room open, shut, and footsteps quickly pace towards the room. The door cracked lightly, and the tall, thin frame of your husband peeked in. He held a brown back tightly in his fist. With one look into your eyes, he knew something was wrong. Or, well, more wrong than usual. 
You clenched your jaw to prevent any sob from escaping your lips as he sat the bag down on an end table and kneeled next to you, gripping your waist tightly as he looked at David. The boy’s breath had gotten dangerously quiet.
You watched as his eyes opened again.
“I’m tired.” He repeated, weaker this time.
Both you and Alastor leaned towards the bed, his hand on David’s leg as you gingerly lifted the boy’s head into your arms, pulling his light body towards yourself. You shifted yourself up into the bed with him, trying to wrap as much of yourself around your son as possible. You could feel his heartbeat getting slower with every weak breath he took.
“Sleep, then,” your voice trembled. You felt Alastor grip your shoulder, his other hand softly rubbing David’s arm. You couldn’t describe the expression on his face. “I’ll see you in the morning, little dove.” You lied.
“In heaven?” He responded. Your breath hitched at his words. He knew, somehow, that he was dying. How sick it was, for such a young boy to be aware of his impending death. How cruel God was.
“Yeah, I promise,” Was all you could muster. You worried that any more would destroy the dam that held back your tears.
It broke, though, when you felt David’s heart finally stop. You choked on a sob once, twice, before finally you started wailing. Screaming. You held a vice-like grip on the boy, both your arms and legs secured around him. Alastor was still quiet, but he had sat across from you on the bed and pulled you towards him, securing you and David’s still-warm body in an equally tight grip. You could feel his strained breathing and tight jaw against your head. He said something, but you didn’t hear him.
Your mind rushed back to the present when you felt a hand on your back. Your head whipped towards Alastor, who was looking at you. The table was dead silent, and there was still a look of rage in his eyes, but his smile held a softness that was only ever given to you. Your heart still beat strongly, and you struggled to breathe, but you were at least glad that your mind was still back in the present.
Evidently, barely any time had passed. Angel had a nervous look in his expression, which he tried and failed to mask as Husk cursed at him. Charlie was looking at you in worry.
“(Y/N),” She said softly. “...How come you never-”
“Truly, there is no point in speaking of life before death,” Alastor interrupted her, the usual cheer in his voice lilted by a masked emotion. You knew he felt the same grief as you, but he was a million times better at acting naturally. “What a waste of time and emotion.”
Alastor stood quickly, his hand trailing against your shoulders as he walked past you and towards Angel and Husk. Husk’s ears flattened to his skull again as Alastor loomed over them, hands behind his back as a smile twisted his features.
“Husker, my friend,” He said, the cat demon visibly flinching at the mention of his name. “Let’s take a walk.”
Husk didn’t move, and the room grew heavy with tension with every second as the sound of radio frequency got louder and somehow sharper. Alastor bent at the waist, his snarling smile inches away from the panicked expression on Husk’s face. 
“Is the tomcat getting too old to hear?” You barely picked up Alastor’s words, but you definitely heard the threatening tone in his voice.
The cat swallowed hard before standing up. He shot one last infuriated look at Angel, before whipping his head back to attention when Alastor tapped his cane against the ground impatiently. The two of them left the room, and the tension in the air immediately lifted when the door shut.
Charlie startled you when she placed a delicate hand on your upper arm, and she guided you to your feet and out another set of doors. A weak smile touched her expression.
“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked as you both went up the stairs towards your hotel room. You shook your head silently at her offer. She only nodded back, and said nothing more. She opened the door to your room for you, and waited till you settled down in your bed before saying a string of comforting words that you didn’t really pay attention to. The door clicked softly, and you once again began to sob.
Only a few minutes passed before you felt your skin prickle with a static-like feeling. You had grown to find comfort in the odd sensation, and felt incredibly relieved when you knew Alastor was sitting next to you. You didn’t even hear him enter the room.
He pulled you wordlessly against his chest, lying the two of you down. You twisted yourself in his grip till your ear rested against him, listening to the odd drum of what you assumed was a heart.
“Has David been troubling you all day?” He asked you when your sobs slowed and you caught your breath. You nodded. Alastor rubbed a soothing hand on your shoulder blade. You recognized the tone of grief in his voice as he spoke. “What a pesky boy, even all these years later.”
You wrapped your arms tightly around Alastor’s neck as tears began flowing again.
Though you would never tell him, you often hoped Charlie’s idea of redemption would work. Your husband himself would likely never follow that path; you knew he saw no point and enjoyed the power he held in Hell. But, you wished every day to see your son again. To see your little dove.
You had promised him.
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yunopouts · 7 months
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scream - l. jeno
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-> lee jeno x fem reader
-> frat! au, pure smut (jeno lee is one nasty mother fucker in this one y'all)
-> CW: dom! jeno, rough sex(??), choking, edging, a small... TINY (VERY TINY) bit of ass play, protected sex, handjob, overuse of the word fuck, overstim, head god jeno, fingering, spitting, squirting, slight praise, lots of crying (reader), dumbification, marking/biting, scratching, blood, nipple play, gagging, bdj (big dick jeno LMFAOO)
-> a/n: this is my apology for going on such a long break T-T, i'm telling you i didn't even realise it went on for that long. i was checking in every now and then but i feel so bad T-T anyways! I'm back :P this one doesn't have THAT much dialogue, so i hope you guys enjoy the gory details 😁 also i think this is the filthiest, most smutty, smut i've ever fucking written, and i've written a lot... trust me on this.
-> upcoming: dilf! jaehyun next week and maybe another halloween special idk. oh btw, everything has some sort of halloween aspect to it :)) psst! requests are open!!
-> word count: 4.2k!
-> also p.s: idk how to explain the way he's acting in this fic... he's like very sweet and cute when he's kissing, but he's being a bitch when he's fucking and being rough... idk, i hope you understand what I mean. but also, as rough as he maybe, he's very touchy-feely and kissy :D ANYWHO! I present to you, six pages of pure filth!
safe! master list
mature! masterlist
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“When you said we’re going to a party, I didn’t know it was a frat party.” Minjeong said as the three of you walked through the door. The house reeked of weed and sweat, all the criteria for a proper frat party, except everyone is in a Halloween costume.
“Girl, where else would the party have been?” Jimin scoffed lightly. She paused in the doorway, looking down at her phone before she sighed. “Apparently Sungchan’s waiting for me in the living room, I’ll see you two later?” Both you and Minjeong nodded, wishing the girl goodbye and watched as she walked away in her cheerleader costume. 
Turning to each other, you silently agreed that the first thing you needed was a drink, so you headed off to the kitchen. 
“I forgot to tell you how hot you look in that outfit.” She said in your ear, loud enough for you to hear over the music, and you gave her a smile while you poured yourself a drink. 
“So do you,” you whistled as you looked her up and down, the way the gross boys in movies do when they spot a hot girl. 
Together, you looked like an odd pair, seeing as you were dressed up as Jennifer, from Jennifer’s Body, and Minjeong was Little Red Riding Hood. The music thumped through the air as the two of you stood in the crowded kitchen, surrounded by costumed partygoers. The laughter and chatter blended with the bass, creating a symphony of Halloween revelry. Your playful compliment still lingered in the atmosphere, adding a touch of warmth to the otherwise chilly, dimly lit room. You took a sip from your drink, the alcohol burning your throat, but your attention was momentarily drawn away from the sensation by something else. From across the room, you spotted a familiar figure, the ever so iconic Ghost Face mask, in the back corner, talking to a boy dressed up as a mummy.
The menacing presence seemed to defy the festive atmosphere, and your eyes were drawn to it as if by some magnetic force. The Ghost Face mask turned slowly in your direction, and even though you couldn't see their face, you felt a shiver race down your spine. It was as though an invisible connection had formed between you and the enigmatic figure, a connection that transcended the costume and the anonymity it provided. There was something magnetic about their presence, something that sparked a potent and unspoken attraction.
For a brief, electrifying moment, your eyes met those hidden behind the Ghost Face mask. Time seemed to stand still as you locked onto each other, and a subtle, unspoken acknowledgment passed between you, like a silent agreement in the midst of the raucous party. Your heart quickened, and the room seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in that charged moment.
Feeling a surge of heat and anticipation, you reluctantly tore your gaze away from the enigmatic figure and turned back to Minjeong, who had been watching the silent exchange with keen interest. She met your eyes, and the shared understanding between you two was palpable. “You saw him too, didn’t you.” Minjeong said in a way that had her sounding winded. With a knowing smile and another sip of your drink, you and Minjeong silently toasted to the unspoken intrigue that had captured your attention.
As the night continued, the magnetic pull you felt towards the Ghost Face figure in the corner didn't wane. It was like an invisible thread connected the two of you, and despite the ongoing revelry, your attention kept drifting back to that mysterious presence.
Minjeong, ever perceptive, nudged you and raised an eyebrow as if to say, "Why not go for it?" Encouraged by her silent urging, you decided to take the initiative. Setting down your drink, you nodded toward the Ghost Face figure, indicating your intention to approach.
Minjeong gave you an encouraging thumbs-up before disappearing into the crowd, leaving you to navigate the sea of Halloween costumes on your own. You weaved through the dancing crowd, anticipation growing with each step.
As you approached, the mask-wearing figure seemed to sense your approach and turned slightly in your direction. They leaned against the counter with their arms crossed over their chest, waiting for you to arrive. The closer you got, the more you could feel the intensity of the connection between the two of you.
Finally standing face to face, the silence was almost deafening. The mask stared at you, unmoving, but you could sense a palpable tension beneath it. Without exchanging words, you both seemed to understand that this moment was special, a secret shared between you in the midst of chaos.
Slowly, your hand extended, and you reached for the Ghost Face mask. Your fingertips brushed against it, and you felt a rapid heartbeat beneath your touch. The mask gave the slightest nod, and you grasped it, carefully pulling it up.
Beneath the mask, a pair of intense, dark eyes met yours. You were momentarily lost in their depth, captivated by the enigmatic stranger who had held your attention all night. The corners of your lips curved into a small, knowing smile, and a spark of recognition flared in those deep, mysterious eyes. 
The unspoken tension that had been simmering between you erupted in a whirlwind of excitement. It was a dance of anticipation and curiosity, an unspoken agreement that you had both been waiting for this moment. And even though the music continued to thump, and the crowd continued to revel, for that brief, electric moment, it was just the two of you, locked in a silent, thrilling connection.
You told him your name when he asked for it, and he introduced himself as ‘Jeno’. 
“You wanna take this upstairs?” he asked with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You sucked in a breath and nodded before he pulled the mask back down and took your hand in his to lead the way through the crowd.
The staircase was crowded with a few people, Minjeong included. You spotted her talking to a girl in fairy costume and when you caught her eye, she gave you a grin, wider than you’ve ever seen. 
Every now and then, Jeno’s leather gloved hand would lightly squeeze yours as you climbed up the stairs. You held on a little tighter each time, but before you knew it, you were standing in front of a room with a big ‘JN’ poster hanging in the middle.
The boy opened the door for you and let you enter first before entering himself. The door clicked shut behind you as you sat down on the bed, your eyes locked on Jeno's every move. With a seductive confidence, he slowly peeled off the Ghost Face mask, revealing a mischievous smirk that sent a shiver down your spine.
As he stepped closer, his eyes never leaving yours, you sucked in a breath in response to the sensual tension that crackled between you. His gloved hands, still gripping the mask, dropped to his sides, and he advanced with a slow, deliberate purpose. The room was drowning in desire, and you couldn't tear your gaze away from him.
Jeno moved in until he was standing directly in front of you. His presence was magnetic, and you found yourself unable to resist as he placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. The touch was electrifying, and you leaned into it, your eyes closing as you savored the sensation. You reached up slowly and pulled his hands away, suddenly regretting it, but you went on with pulling the leather gloves off, exposing a set of large, veiny hands. 
Kicking off your shoes, you moved to the top of his bed and watched as he concentrated on your every move with dark eyes. In a flash, Jeno had pulled off the cloak, leaving his chest exposed and him only in his jeans. It felt like you were freezing without his touch on you, but soon enough, he was in front of you, inspecting your face before his eyes ultimately landed on your lips that were stained red from makeup.
His lips rushed to meet yours in a tantalising kiss, a soft exploration that soon deepened into a passionate melding of mouths. The taste of him was intoxicating, and your tongues danced in a heated rhythm, exchanging breathless sighs and moans. Every kiss, every brush of his lips against yours, sent a rush of heat through your body. It was amazing.
His hands travelled from your face, down to your waist and they pulled you to meet his body. Jeno groaned into the kiss from all the friction caused by his chest rubbing against your sweater, making his nipples hard and sensitive. 
While your arms wrap around his neck, Jeno’s hips dig into yours, creating a tent in his pants. It’s hard and uncomfortable but the pressure it’s putting on your cunt is to die for, so you grind… hard. Jeno moans your name while his hands tug at your jeans so aggressively you thought he would tear them if he continued. After blindly messing around with your pants, Jeno popped the button open and pulled down your jeans, exposing the lacy underwear you had on. 
You whined as he pulled away from your lips but you shut up quicker than ever when you noticed how he was staring at your pussy. He looked hungry.
He looked like he was starving.
And starving, he was.
Jeno practically tore off your panties, tossing them somewhere behind him, before he dove into you. His tongue pressed flat against your pussy, licking a stripe up, the muscle’s warmth and making you moan softly. His nose poked at your clit as his tongue toyed with your hole. He lapped at your folds, making sure no spot was left untouched by his tongue. Jeno loved the way you tasted; you had the best pussy he’s ever eaten, he felt like he could spend all day eating you out, and he’d never get tired of it. 
Jeno pulled away for a second to put his middle finger in his mouth, coating it in saliva before pressing it to your entrance. A hum escaped your lips as his thick digit slowly pulsed in and out of you as your hands worked to take off your sweater and shirt. Soon, one finger became two, and Jeno went back to eating you out. Your moans were driving him crazy; they were making it hard focus on your clit because his cock was so fucking hard. The hand he had pressed on your lower abdomen moved down to his button, undoing it and moving the zipper down far enough for him to get his dick out. 
As he rubbed his cock, Jeno’s teeth grazed your clit before his lips latched on to it, sucking forcefully. With that, it didn’t take long for that feeling to start to form. As your moans quickened, the pace of Jeno’s fingers grew faster, and he sucked harder on your clit– if it were even possible. He loved the way you were tightening around his fingers, like you were trying to keep them inside you, wanting them absorb your juices.
“Fuck, Jeno…” you gasped, fingers tugging at his dark, messy hair. “God, I’m so close.”
Your eyes squeezed shut right as you were about to cum, but you never did. You felt so high, but now you dropped back down to zero, and you were empty and cold. Opening your eyes, you saw Jeno looking down at you with a smug expression. He leaned down and kissed you softly, which allowed you to taste yourself off his tongue, the somewhat sweet taste filling your mouth. 
Reaching down, you felt for his cock, and began stroking when you found it. He was girthier than other guys you’ve had sex with, and he had a slight curve upwards, but my god was he long. You didn’t know if he would fit, but there was nothing you wouldn’t try. 
Jeno moaned as he kissed you, the feeling of your warm hands rubbing him up and down forced him to thrust at the pace you were moving at. He pulled back from your lips to drop his head into the crook of your neck, marking and panting against the soft skin. Behind the shell of your ear, he wet a small spot with saliva before he kissed it softly, and he did the same to a few other spots. He sucked on your skin until it bruised while he moved down to the curve of your neck. Jeno’s hot tongue laid against your skin once again before he closed his teeth around it. 
You jerked his cock harder as the boy continued to bite into different spots until his husky voice whispered a demand. 
“Stop.” Jeno told you.
You did as you were told, but you kept your fingers trailing up and down his shaft as he kissed back up your neck, to your lips.
“Gimme two seconds.” he said against your lips with a smile. You kissed him quickly before he got up, which made him chuckle. 
You watched as he got up, cock out and everything, which made you smile a bit. Jeno slid off his remaining clothes and tossed them in what presumed to be a laundry bin, and opened a drawer of his dresser, only to pull out something wrapped in a gold foil. 
Oh…
Not one;
Not two;
Or three;
But six.
Jeno pulled out a strand of six condoms before he turned back to you. “Just in case.” he smiled innocently, even though he absolutely was not. He tore one from the line and ripped the top off with his teeth before he handed you the open package. 
“Only six?” you asked in attempt to make a joke out of the pain you’re going to be in tomorrow. 
Jeno chuckled as he shrugged while you took the condom and rolled it on to his cock. “We can use the whole pack if you want, it’s new.”
And that was that, seeing as Jeno grabbed your face and kissed you passionately. His tongue eagerly explored your mouth once again, grazing your own tongue and cheeks before he pulled away. A string of your mixed saliva hung like a teather from your mouth to his.
“Turn over for me, won’t you?” you nodded in a daze and turned so that your face was in the pillows. “Good girl,” he said, his cool hands grazing down your back, sliding all the way down to your ass. He spread your cheeks far enough apart to see everything, and you swore you heard evil laughter coming from somewhere. 
What you thought was going to come, did not, in fact, come. Instead, you were surprised to feel a warm glob of spit fall on to your ass and how it trailed down to your pussy. Jeno leaned down and licked one long stripe, starting from your clit and ending at your ass. His tongue poked into your hole, once again, but this time he scisored in and out, the same way he used his fingers earlier. His tongue was warm and soft inside you, but that feeling didn’t last very long. 
Jeno pulled his tongue out, subbing it out for his fingers, but instead, he used his tongue on your ass, sending shivers down your spine. He licked at the puckered hole, warming it up a bit as he fucked your pussy with his fingers. 
“You doing okay?” he asked, but you were only able to moan out your response. His fingers fucked you faster, his thumb was ruining your clit with friction, your ass was slick with his spit. Everything was happening just as it needed to be for you to cum. “Oh fuck, Jeno, I’m gonna cum.” And this time you did. Jeno’s fingers curled inside you as they fucked you through your orgasm. Your body shook, your pussy was covered in spit and cum. Jeno’s fingers were coated in a mixture of his and your fluids, and he sucked it off like he was eating icing from a cake. 
You felt hot and sticky; he hadn’t even fucked you with his cock yet and yet that was the best orgasm you’d ever fucking felt. “Jen… Jeno, I need you.”
The desparity in your voice sent Jeno spiraling and in no time, the fingers in your pussy were gone and his cock was poking at your enterance. He spit into his hand and coated his covered cock in it, even though he doubted he needed it, considering the fact that you were so wet you could drip on to his bed.
With a slow push, Jeno’s cock entered you, but refrained from moving after hearing you gasp. You knew he was going to be big, but you didn’t know he would be that big. He was a length you’d never taken before, so it took you a few minutes to adjust to his size, but soon enough you were able to build up to a medium pace. 
Jeno’s hands snuck up your back to undo the clasp of your bra, exposing your breasts. Jeno firmly gripped your ass, with his thumb prodding at your assshole. You hummed with pleasure as the thick digit dipped into you slightly. With that, along with the pounding from his cock, you were basically in heaven. 
“Faster,” you gasped, finally feeling only pleasure as he fucks into you.
Pulling you up by the shoulder, your bra slipped off in an instant, which let Jeno get a proper view of your tits, plump and beautiful. He watched how they jiggled with each thrust, and he grew more and more fond of them. Jeno even switched his grip on you from your shoulder to your neck. His hand gripped you around the base of your throat, just tight enough for there to be a handprint later. Meanwhile, the other snaked down to your pussy, where he drew fast circles on your clit. Jeno’s cock was deep inside your cunt, it filled you to the brim and you were loving every minute of it. 
And so was he. The sound of skin slapping on skin, how your pussy fit his cock like a glove, how you moaned his name like you knew it well, how your back was practically glued to his chest. That made him go crazy; that made him fuck you even harder– a more vigurous pace that felt so good it brought you to tears. 
Jeno got a hold of one of your nipples, it was hard and practically begging for it to be twisted. You moaned at the feeling and begged for more through your tears, so Jeno’s arms crossed over your stomach, his hands reaching up to play with your nipples some more. He pulled at them until they slipped from his grip, he squeezed them until you begged for mercy. When he shoved two fingers in your mouth, you gagged and yet you could still go further. Jeno pulled his fingers out and covered your tits in your spit.
It didn’t take long for his hips to pick up the pace once he that he was about to cum. Your moans grew choppier and choppier as his thrusts became more sharp. 
“Shit, baby.” he groaned, his teeth biting down on your ear loab as he came. Your breaths were ragged in the moments of his orgasm, but you could feel his cock twitch inside you, even with the condom. Your body couldn’t keep up with the speed he was going at and soon enough you were shaking in his arms for a second time, cumming with him.
When Jeno pulled out, your head lolled backwards and you eyed him with a smile. Jeno kissed your temple and whispered his next words into your skin.
“On to the second condom, then?” You each laughed at his comment and Jeno wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly as he shook with laughter.
The boy helped you off of him before getting off the bed again to switch condoms. The exchange was quick and before you knew it, Jeno was hovering above of you once more, staring down at you like you were his prey. This predatory look formed a pit in your stomach, but the good kind. 
Jeno’s eyes scanned you from head to toe. 
Your body glistened with sweat, collarbones and throat covered with markings of all kinds, your nipples were puffy and wet, and your pussy was swollen and slick with juices. Everything looked delectable; you looked delectable and he was so tempted to consume it all. 
The boy picked up one of your legs and propped it over his shoulder and placed his tip at your entrance. He bottomed out smoothly, and this time you seemed to be able to handle his length much better. Your head sunk into the pillows as you let out a sigh. 
You watched how Jeno’s eyes closed when he felt your cunt wrap around him with his head falling back with pleasure. “Feels so good.” he groaned into the air, his jaw hanging open slightly as he continued to thrust. His head turned to the side and he brought your calf closer to his mouth, littering it with harsh bites and soft kisses.
Biting your lip, you reached your arm out, silently asking for him to come closer to you, to which he accepted. Setting your leg down, Jeno placed his arms on either side of your head, his face now just centimetres away from yours. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you wanted to keep the eye contact, so you mustered up the courage to look into his swirling orbs. In his eyes were a mix of emotions, ones that were unrecognisable to you, but you liked it. Tilting your head up slightly, you pecked his bottom lip lightly, which earned you a grin from Jeno. It grew wider when you wrapped your legs around his waist, bringing him in even closer to you. He hummed and kissed you back forcefully as he picked up the pace, his balls slapping against you sharply. 
The tears that ran from your eyes down your cheeks seemed to motivate Jeno. Before, he could only hear your sobs, but seeing you cry switched something inside him. It made him want to fuck you harder, just to see you cry even harder. You looked so pretty, with your makeup all messy and tears running down your face. He loved it. 
So he fucked you harder, and so you cried harder, you moaned louder, and you pawed at his back. His skin was under your nails, he could feel how they cut into him the harder he thrust. You were driving him fucking insane. 
Jeno leaned his forehead on to yours as he moaned out sweet nothings. “I fucking love your pussy, fuck.” he cursed. His words made you tighten around his cock, which only made him groan louder, but it was like music to your ears. He felt like your pussy was sucking him in the way it would constrict when he fucked into you. 
“Jeno, please,” you whimpered, but you didn’t even know what you were begging for. “Fuck, Jeno, you’re so fucking good.” you repeated your words as you whined out to him. 
His words made your insides flutter, his movements made your heart race and your breaths quicker. Everything felt so good you could barely moan out words anymore. 
He was fucking you dumb and silly. You were nothing but drawn out exclamations and tears. You were so sensitive, and yet you didn’t even want to tell him to stop. 
It was just too good to stop.
So he kept fucking you, and he kept filling you, over, and over, and over again until you felt it. “Jen… Jeno, fuck, I’m cumming.”  Suddenly, Jeno pulled out again, the same way he did earlier, but this time, he crawled between your legs again, fingering you until you came while jerking himself off. This one hit you so hard that your mind went completely blank and no words could even come out of your mouth. Jeno couldn’t even register what happened until he felt a wet substance leak on to his sheet. 
He couldn’t fucking believe it.
His mouth latched on to your squirting cunt almsot immediately, drinking in your juices like it was water. Some  liquid dripped down his neck as he lapped up the rest that leaked from your pussy, but he never let up. He continued to eat you out so well even after you came, you thought you were going to do it again.
As your hand raked through his dark hair, all it took was one tug at his roots for him to cum. Jeno rode his high by fucking himself into his mattress, and until he was done, he rest in between your thighs. 
Slowly making his way up to you, you looked down, only to find that his dick was still hard. “You’re joking, right?”
“How about we finish that pack in a bit, hm?” he grinned, making you scoff. 
3K notes · View notes
darkbluekies · 3 months
Text
Make things right? Or make them worse?
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Yandere!doctor (platonic to his children) x twin daughters ocs x female!reader
Summary: Dr Kry’s children finds out their fathers dark secret, and he's determined to silence them.
Warnings: toxic household, yandere, favoritism, guilt, poison, mentions of murder (things along this way)
A/N: I have created my own poison for this story, so I choose the effects. Lol.
Word count: 6.2k
“Bye, dad”, Lydia says and closes the car door.
Her twin follows out of the car, almost hides behind her like a shadow. Lydia frowns confusedly. She’s been more silent than usual this morning. They turn to walk into school.
“Girls”, Dr Kry says through the open car window, catching their attention. “I want you here at three sharp, okay? I’m not in the mood for waiting.”
“Yes, sir”, Lydia answers. 
“Good. Have a good day, girls, I’ll see you later.”
With that said, he drives off. Lydia turns to Nadia who finally raises her gaze from her feet. 
“What’s wrong?” Lydia asks and fixes her backpack. “You’ve been acting off all morning.”
“I have to talk to you about something”, Nadia says hesitantly and looks at her with uneasy eyes. 
Lydia blinked and frowned. “What?”
“I was meaning to talk to you earlier, but I didn’t want to do it when dad was around.” Nadia glanced at the other students swarming around the school grounds. “It’s about mom … and her sickness.”
For as long as they can remember, their mother has been bound to her bed by a rare disease. Thankfully, their father is a remarkable doctor and has been caring for her ever since the twins' birth. He works at a hospital in the city and travels forty minutes back and forth every day, dropping the twins off at school on the way there, and picking them up on the wayback. When they were young, they were put in a private school carefully chosen by their father — who has been very active in the administration.
Their father is a complex person. Although they’ve been by him their entire life, they still feel like they don’t know him. He rarely talks about himself, and seem to have a human side for their mother only. Very rarely, there’s a soft side for the girls … often they’re met by a doctor, rather than a parent. Despite that, Lydia has always been a daddy’s girl, while Nadia has clung to their mom for love and comfort. 
“What about it?” Lydia asks carefully. 
“I heard something …”, Nadia starts and licks her lips nervously. “I heard these noises, from mom and dad’s room-”
“Don’t tell me you heard them have sex”, Lydia grimaces. 
“No …” Nadia shakes her head, eyes shaking. “They were talking. Mom was crying and daad was standing by the bed, holding her cheeks in his hands like this …” She cups her sisters cheeks in demonstration, “...while saying: ‘you’re never going back there, I’ll never share you like that again’.” She shivers. “I-I don’t know what that was, but it made me feel really weird.”
Lydia frowns, trying to picture the scene in front of her. 
“Are you sure that it wasn’t just dad’s weird love language?” she asks carefully. 
“I don’t know”, Nadia sighs defeatedly. “Mom seemed … scared. She looked up at him with eyes full of terror. She could have had a nightmare or something, but dad’s voice- … it was awful. I don’t know how to describe it, but it sounded extremely dark.”
“We could try to ask her.”
“What if dad hears?”
“I could distract him while you ask, if that helps you ease your worry.”
Nadia smiles gratefully. “Thank you, Lyd.”
Lydia gives her an unsure smile and grabs her hand and they walk into school. 
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Like Dr Kry had asked them to, they stand by the gates at three sharp. His white car rolls over and the two of them jumps in, Lydia in the front seat and Nadia in the backseat.
“How has your day been?” he asks and drives off. 
He always asks about their classes, teachers and friends. If there’s a small detail he doesn’t like, he makes sure to contact the school and let them know his thoughts. More than one friendship has ended thanks to his overprotectiveness and the twins has learned to dilute the truth enough for him to be able to swallow it. So once again, they answer in the way he wants to hear it. 
The car drives from the city, gets off the highway and enters a countryside road. The dirt road is divided in the middle with grass, creating enough space for the wheels of his white car to roll forward. Here, nothing can be heard except the sounds of distant birds. Their white, edwardian villa is surrounded by a deep, dark forest, close to a gigantic sparkly lake with the closest neighbor being a kilometer away. Despite the isolating upbringing the twins have had, getting away from the noisy, stressful city to the empty forest always cleanse their brains. 
The white, Scandinavian, edwardian aged, wooden villa appears behind the trees like a castle. The house has two floors with a green atticroof, and a bushy, blooming garden in the same color, two glass verandahs on either side of the house and a white fence around the garden.
The twins get out of the car. Nadia gives her a look and Lydia nods. 
“Dad”, she says. “I’ve been feeling a bit weird these last days … I think I’m going to be sick.”
“Really?” Dr Kry asks and frowns. He closes the trunk of the car. “Who have you been around? Are any of the other students sick?”
“A few.”
“Nadia, are you feeling bad too?”
“No”, Nadia replies.
“Could you please give me a check up?” Lydia asks. 
“Alright, come with me”, Dr Kry says and nods at her to follow him. 
While they walk inside, their father and Lydia walks to the living room and Nadia sneaks off upstairs. She moves carefully to their parents’ room and knock gently on the door before entering. Their mother, you, is lying in bed with a book in her hand. You look as weak as ever. Nadia shivers. 
“Hi, sweetheart”, you smile and puts down your book on your chest. “Did you have a good day in school?”
“Yes …”, Nadia mumbles and sits down on the side of the bed, unsure on how to start this absurd conversation. 
“What’s wrong, Nadia?”
“What happened yesterday? WIth you and dad?”
You flinch. Your smile disappears for a moment for it to appear quickly again, but this time in a fake manner. 
“Why did he say that?” Nadia asks carefully. “Why did he say that he wasn’t going to share you again?”
“O-Oh, that …”, you mumble with an embarrassed smile. “It was nothing, don’t worry about it. It was just some adult stuff that me and your dad were talking about.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, honey. Why? Did it make you worry?”
Nadia nods slightly. Y/N gives her a smile and takes her hand. 
“It’s okay, sweetheart, there’s nothing to be afraid of”, you reassure Nadia. “Whatever happens between me and your dad is nothing you have to be afraid of. We will always put you and your sister first, okay? There’s nothing you have to be worried about. I love you, darling.”
“I love you too, mom …”
You hug her, and Nadia hugs back, but she can’t help but feel that her heart sinks. Something isn’t right. 
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The very next day when they’re left off at school, Nadia grabs Lydia’s arm. 
“Let’s go to the hospital”, she says the second their father’s car disappears behind the corner. She holds up a metallic key. “I have the key to mom’s old room.”
“What?” Lydia asks in confusion. “Why?”
“I have a feeling that mom isn’t really sick and I have to take a look around in her old hospital room. Something isn’t right!” She clears her throat and lowers her voice. “Mom and dad met at the hospital and that he was her doctor, that much we know, right?”
Lydia nods, trying to follow along. 
“Isn’t it weird that a doctor as professional as our dad decided to start a relationship with a patient like that?” Nadia asks, sounding unsure. “And wouldn’t he have done everything he could to make mom feel better? Shouldn’t she be better now? I just … I want to know if he has done something.”
“Do you really think he has?”
“I don’t know. I really don’t know. But something isn’t right, and I feel that. Mom seemed to be put on the spot when I asked her about the interaction I had overheard. She seemed scared.” Nadia grabbed her hand in hers. “Please, Lyd, can we go there and just take a look?”
Lydia hesitates and glances at the private school behind them, contemplating the consequences. 
“Please”, Nadia repeats. “If mom is getting hurt, I want to help her.”
“Okay”, Lydia nods. 
With that said, they hurry past the school gates before a teacher has the time to catch them. They take the first bus to the state hospital their father works at and hope that he’s with a patient while they sneak around. 
They hurry inside the hospital and keep their heads down to make sure that none of the working receptionists would recognise them and report to their father right away. They stay silent until they get into the elevator. 
Once out, they sneak over to the door. Lydia stands guard as Nadia presses the key into its lock. The click from the key opening echoes in the empty corridor. Nadia’s hand hovers above the door handle. Her heart twirls around uncomfortably. In a moment, she will be in the room where their parents met, where something happened that made their dad take the decision of stepping over the professional line. If that was good or bad is yet to be known, but she can’t help but feel worried. 
The room is empty, in more than one way. The spirits of old memories haunt the room and they leave a sour taste in the twins’ mouths. Lydia looks towards the bed. Their mother has been lying here for months with a sickness that has kept her bed bound for years. But what happened while she was here?
“What are we looking for?” Lydia wonders. 
“Anything”, Nadia shrugs and looks around. “Whatever that can help us is fine. Journals, reports, notes — anything.”
They start to rummage through drawers, in binders and notepads. Lydia finds herself holding a yellow paper binder with their mother’s name written on it, in their father’s handwriting. 
“Nad, look at this”, Lydia says and holds up the binder. 
They put the binder on the desk and start to pull out papers. Every paper is written from the top to the bottom in ink.
“He has documented her every day …”, Lydia says, perplexed. She shakes her head in denial. “Every single day, every single hour. Obsessively. Look, every little detail is written down. ‘12:35, eaten an apple’, ‘16:52, took a shower’, ‘22:30, called for me on the telephone’. What is this?”
Nadia picks up another paper, a smaller, clearly supposed to be hidden between the other sides. She puts her hand over her mouth as her eyes widens. 
“Oh no”, she gasps and drops the paper. “No, no, no, no …”
Lydia frowns, bends down and picks up the paper. Her heart sinks as she reads the note. It’s a single word, but they’re familiar with it. They’ve found bottles of it in the cellar and the attic multiple times, and when they asked Dr Kry about it, he answered that it was a substance to kill vermin.
“He’s poisoning mom”, Nadia whispers in horror and looks at her twin with wide, terrified eyes. 
Lydia feels the air disappear from her lungs. Suddenly, she feels nauseous. She sits down on the rolling stool and tries to control her breathing. Nadia sinks down on the bed with her head in her hands. 
“What the fuck do we do?” Lydia breathes out with her eyes staring dimly in front of her. She has never felt this empty before, this helpless. “What the fuck do we do now, Nadia?”
“W-We have to call the cops”, Nadia gulps. 
“The cops? Nad, he’s our dad!”
“But if he hurts mom …” Her voice dies out. “We can’t let him take more years from her.”
Lydia nods and wipes the few tears that have begun to run down her cheeks. With shaking hands, she unzips her backpack and shoves the binder down. They will need evidence if they have to prove to the cops. 
The door behind them opens. Both girls fly up from their positions and scurry over to each other. Dr Kry walks in and stops abruptly in the door. 
“What are you doing here?” he asks quickly. 
He’s trying to force a smile, but the red eyes of his daughters and the trembling bodies of theirs are all he needs to see, to know that they know. 
“How fucking could you?!” Nadia screams. 
Dr Kry hurries to close the door as she continues to shout through sobs. 
“What’s your deal with mom?!” she screams. “How can you keep her like this?! Where’s your fucking conscience?!”
She thinks that she’s going to explode in pure fear, anger and sorrow. Dr Kry clenches his jaw and sighs heavily. 
“Your mother is a very, very special person”, he says slowly, as if he is talking to a ticking bomb. “It is all a misunderstanding, girls, I will tell you everything at home. Come, we’re going home now.”
“We’re not going anywhere with you”, Nadia spits and stands in front of her frozen sister. 
“You don’t have to be afraid of me.” Dr Kry rolls his eyes when they don’t answer. “You’re my daughters, and you are not yet of age, you have to come with me.”
Nadia wants to refuse again, but she doesn’t want to leave her mother alone with him, not when he knows that they know. 
“Now”, Dr Kry decides. 
Nadia picks up Lydia’s bag and gives it to her sister. It looks like Lydia is going to throw up any second now. Nadia takes her hand and they follow their father out of the room, and out through a back door. For the first time, Lydia sits down in the backseat together with her twin. They hold each others hands tightly and keep silent the entire car ride home. 
“Girls, I never wanted you to see that”, Dr Kry sighs and tries to meet their eyes in the rear view mirror. “I- … It’s hard to explain. Your mother is a very special person who I’m very lucky to have met.”
Lydia squeezes her eyes shut, but she can’t keep him out of her head. 
When they come home, Nadia drags her sister into the house. 
“Girls, don’t go upstairs”, Dr Kry says in that same dark voice Nadia had heard him talk in a few days ago. “I want you to stay down here.”
They halt, suddenly too scared to move. 
“I want you to help me with dinner”, Dr Kry says. “Come on.”
The twins glance at each other. Lydia starts to drag her sister to the kitchen. They help in complete silence. Lydia’s hands are trembling while she cuts cucumber and it slips, cutting a slit in her finger. She yelps and drops the knife. 
“Oh, honey”, Dr Kry breathes out and grabs her hand. “You have to be careful.”
She doesn’t look at him as he washes her hand under the kitchen sink and puts on a bandaid. Her entire body is in fight or flight mode. 
When Dr Kry takes care of the final touches, the twins scurry up to their mother. Your face drops when you see them. 
“Why is he doing this to you?” Nadia asks thickly as she tries not to cry. “We found out.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry, girls”, you say sorrowfully. “I wish that you never had to know.”
“Why do you let it happen?” Lydia asks quietly. 
“I have no choice … I can’t do anything.” You lower your gaze and voice to an ashamed whisper. “I don’t have the energy to run away, and if I managed to, you’d be in danger and I’d be dead. Your father has the only antidote to his self made poison. It’s safer for everyone if I stay here.”
“But mom …”, Nadia whimpers, “... he’s hurting you.”
“I … I know, dear.” 
The door opens behind them. 
“Girls, dinner”, Dr Kry says shortly and nods towards the corridor. “Go downstairs.”
The twins turn to you, wanting you to make their decision. You give them a reassuring smile and they leave. You look at the man who has become your husband, much to your dismay. 
“Why did you let them find out?” you whisper with tears in your eyes. “You promised that they would never know!”
“I didn't think that they would.” He wipes the tears that roll down your cheeks. “I’ll fix this mess. Don’t worry, darling.”
With that said, he tucks you in and leaves to go downstairs. The twins have sat down by the dining table with their blank, staring eyes turned down into the table. Dr Kry sits down and start to eat, without seeming to care at all about the incidents that happened earlier. Nadia stares down into her plate with disgust roaring in her stomach. If she eats, she’s going to throw it all up in a matter of thirty minutes. She closes her eyes and sighs sadly. Lydia tries to eat a bite, forcing it down her throat. 
“Nadia, eat a little”, Dr Kry says. 
“I’m not hungry”, she mumbles. 
“You need to eat a bit. I won’t allow you to leave the table before you have eaten. Look at Lydia, she’s eating.”
Lydia feels her cheeks heat up as the attention turns to her. She’s suddenly embarrassed over obeying. Feeling exposed and naked under Nadia’s look of disbelief, as if she’s just broken a silent pact. But instead of saying anything, Nadia picks up her fork and takes a bite of the white rice. The twins can agree that this might have been the worst dinner they have ever experienced. 
Nadia puts her hand over her heart and clears her throat. There's a heavy feeling over her chest, something almost suffocating. She looks to the side, seeing how Lydia is frowning as well, trying to clear her throat. Nadia think that she looks like she’s going to faint. She wants to ask her how she’s feeling, but doesn’t dare talk in front of their father, afraid to start a conversation. 
After dinner, the twins decide to go upstairs, but their legs suddenly feel weak enough to break apart. 
“What’s going on?” Lydia whispers and grips the staircase railing. 
“I think that he put something in the food”, Nadia whispers back. 
“I feel really sick …”
She falls down on her knees in the middle of the staircase, still holding onto the railing. Nadia hurries to pull her up again and drags her over to her bedroom, lazily tucking her in. 
“Don’t leave me”, Lydia whimpers and grabs her hand before she can leave the room. “Stay … please. Don’t go. I'm scared.”
Nadia agrees, not wanting to leave. She climbs down under the covers of Lydia’s bed. They lay in silence and look up at the tilted, wooden ceiling. For every minute passes by, they’re growing more and more sick. Every muscle in their bodies seem to ache, twist and turn. 
“He’s doing it to us too”, Nadia whispers. 
They hear the lock on the door click and give each other terrified looks. Nadia stumbles out of the bed and feel the handle. She gulps in horror and turns back to the bed. 
“It’s locked!” she says and breathes out in shock. “He actually locked it …”
“Come back …”, Lydia begs and reaches for her. 
Nadia returns to the bed, crawls down under the covers and hugs her. She wraps her arms around her sister and rests Lydia’s head on her shoulder. 
“I’m scared”, Lydia whispers. 
“It’s going to be okay”, Nadia replies, although she doesn’t believe it herself. “We’re going to be okay.”
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Dr Kry removes his tie, about to go to sleep. 
“I can’t believe you …”, you whisper from the bed, with her eyes down at her trembling hands. 
“Darling …”, Dr Kry sighs and turns around. 
You raise your tone, but keep it hushed enough not to exceed the bedroom walls. “You promised that they would never get hurt! You promised that they would never get exposed to this fucking substance!”
“They haven’t … yet.”
“Yet?! Don’t fucking tell me-”
“They figured it out, okay? They heard our conversation and decided to check out the hospital for themselves. I underestimated their intelligence … and their love for you.” He sighs annoyedly. “I’m not going to let their lack of understanding break apart our family — that I have fought so hard for. I put something in their food to keep them still for a while. It’s nothing dangerous, little one. I promise you that.”
“If I knew that you were going to break your promise-”
“I had to.”
He is about to caress your cheek, but hears sounds coming from next door. One of the girls is banging on the locked bedroom door, and calling for him. Dr Kry excuses himself and gets out of the room. He walks over to Lydia’s room, where the noise is coming from. Quickly, he unlocks, finding Nadia leaning on the wall right next to the door. Her eyes are full with tears. 
“What’s going on?” Dr Kry asks. 
“Lydia isn’t waking up!” Nadia cries.
Dr Kry feels his body turn cold. He runs over to the bed where his other daughter is lying on her side, and he soon finds out that Nadia is right — she isn’t waking up. He shakes her, gives her gentle taps on her cheeks and lifts her up. Nothing wakes her. He has to take her to the hospital. 
“Wait, where are you going?!” Nadia screams after him as Dr Kry carries her sister down the stairs. “She doesn’t want to be alone!”
“You have to stay here with mom”, Dr Kry says over his shoulder. “I’m taking care of Lydia.”
He hurries out of the house and quickly places her down in the back seat. Dr Kry’s usual forty minute drive to the hospital took only twenty five minutes this time. He picked her up in her arms and ran inside through the backdoor, and didn’t stop until their reach the room you have spent many, many months in. Dr Kry places his daughter down on the very same bed you have laid in. He placed an oxygen over Lydia’s mouth and nose, turning on the machine. He hasn’t felt this scared in a long time. 
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Finally, after an hour, Lydia opens her eyes with a small moan. Dr Kry hurries over to the bed and removes the mask. 
“How are you feeling?” he asks her and brushes the hair out of her face. 
“I feel really sick”, she whimpers. 
“Do you need to throw up?” 
Lydia nods. Dr Kry picks her up again and moves her into the bathroom where she hovers over the toilet for ten minutes. Dr Kry holds her hair back and grimaces sadly. He does feel bad for putting her through this, but he has to. 
“There you go”, he says and puts her down on the bed again. 
“Why am I here?” Lydia asks weakly.
“You weren’t responding when anyone tried to wake you up. I got worried, so I decided to take you here.”
“Am I going to die?”
Dr Kry scoffs out a smile in a weird sensation of deja-vu. He has heard that question a lot, in the exact same tone and manner, but from the generation before her.  
“You’re not”, he reassures her and strokes her hair. “You know that I would never let anything happen to you.”
“Why am I feeling like this?”
“I put something in your food to make you and Nadia calm down, but you seem to have reacted badly to the substance … weirdly enough. Since you’re identical twins, i thought you’d react the same, but it seems like you are a bit more sensitive than your sister.”
“Nadia ate less than me.”
“Yeah, you might have gotten more substance in your body, which is why you feel worse. It’s going to be okay, I will not let anything happen to you.”
“But you hurt me.”
His smile drops and his hand stops stroking her hair. He knows that Lydia shares half of her mothers genetics, but he didn’t know that she would sound exactly like you. She has never heard you use these phrases, and yet Lydia has chosen the exact same wording that you have tortured Dr Kry with years ago. 
“I didn’t mean for you to end up here”, Dr Kry sighs and continues to stroke her hair. “That was my fault, I admit that. However, I had to keep you and Nadia a bit sedated because of how scared you were.”
“Why did you use so much?” she whimpers. 
“I was a bit shaky myself, I wasn’t meant to hurt you, Lydia.”
Lydia sighs shakily and sinks down in the mattress. She wants nothing more than to go back home, to Nadia, but at the same time she knows that if she goes back home, she will be locked in her room again. Continuing with life now that they know their father’s secret will be difficult. 
“How long do I have to stay here?” she asks quietly. 
“Until you’re feeling better”, Dr Kry replies and stands up. “For now, I think that you need to sleep. It’s late.”
That’s the last thing she wants to do. She has always been Dr Kry’s (not so subtle) favorite, and she has always had a preference for her father … but for the very first time, she’s afraid of him. She can’t trust him anymore, especially about her health. Being unconscious is the last thing she wants to do. 
“I don’t want to”, Lydia says pleadingly. “I’m not tired … please don’t make me sleep, dad.”
Please don’t make me sleep. Your voice echoes in his head, in the exact same tone. Dr Kry knows that he did a million things wrong when he kept you here, and now he has a second chance to fix things. 
“Okay”, he breathes out and sits down on his stool. “You don’t have to sleep, darling.”
Lydia gulps and looks around in the room, trying to imagine how you had felt while being here. She feels a heavy sensation over her chest, like a heavy stone. She couldn’t see the poisoned air purifier that was mentioned in the journal. 
“Did mom lay here?” Lydia whispers. 
“Yes”, he answers quietly. 
“How long?”
Dr Kry looks down at his nails, eyes faltering. “A, uh … very long time. Many, many months.”
She starts to look around again. “Where is the air purifier?”
“It’s not here … it broke, a long time ago. I had to throw it away.”
“Do you still use that kind of thing on mom?”
“No, I don’t. Not often.”
But he has his new way to make sure you stay.
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Nadia runs her hand through her hair. Her poor sister. What should she do? Dr Kry left the rooms unlocked, which means that she can move around. She drags herself into your bedroom. You look at her with wide, nervous eyes. 
“Is she okay?” you ask and take Nadia in your arms. 
“I-I don’t know”, Nadia responds shakily while shaking her head desperately. “She wasn’t waking up and …”
“She’s going to be okay. I know your father can all of those medical stuff … maybe a little too well.” You sigh and caress the seventeen-year old girl’s face. “It’s going to be okay.”
Nadia shakes her head. “No fucking way things are going to be okay! He’s a madman, mom.”
“I … I know.”
“We can’t stay here.”
“Where are we supposed to go, Nad? We have no car, nearest neighbor is a kilometer away and we have poison in our blood. Sweetheart, we can’t walk far.”
“Mom, we have to leave. We can’t stay here with this psychopath!”
“Nadia …”
Nadia sighs frustratedly and hides her face in her hands. Something has to work. The farthest she has seen you walk is out to the garden when they’ve had picnic evenings. You take her hand, removing it.
“Sweetheart … you know dad loves you, right?” you ask carefully. You don’t want her to hate her him, after all he is her father … but you have to let her know the truth, no more living in the shadow.
“Fucking doubt it”, Nadia mutters. 
“He does. In his … own little way. But I need you to understand that he has sides that he hasn’t shown you … a-and I don’t want you to see those sides.”
Nadia’s face goes blank. You’re trying your best not to get swindled back into old memories, but thinking about that murderous side of Dr Kry brings you back to a time you much rather would want to forget. 
“Mom?” Nadia asks blankly and almost shouts in panic. “Mom! What sides?”
“He … He is a very patient man, but he can't take as much as possible, so please, whatever you do … cooperate.”
“What does that mean? Mom?”
Nadia goes cold. That’s it, she thinks, they have to leave. 
“Mom, get up”, she says and grabs the blanket before ripping it off. “Now. Before he returns.”
“Nad-”
“We have to try, at least. Please.”
You hesitate before getting out of bed. Nadia grabs your hand and try to pull you out of the bedroom, but everything around you seem to spin. Your entire body is heavy and aching in all the wrong places. 
“Nadia, wait”, you groan. “If I’m going to move, I have to move slowly.”
“Alright”, Nadia agrees. “I’ll go get some stuff and then meet you by the stairs.”
Nadia runs to her room to collect her wallet and hoodies for herself and her sister, then runs to get your jacket. She meets you by the stairs, helps you put your jacker on and then start to lead you down. You’re terrified of falling. 
“Nadia, I don’t think that this is a good idea”, you mumble and think back of your numerous escape attempts, all ending with someone losing their life. 
“We have to, mom”, Nadia pleads. “I can’t leave you here.”
“What about Lydia?”
“I’ll figure something out afterwards.”
Nadia unlocks the front door and leads you out on the glass verandah. You’re filled with fear. What if you can’t walk? What if you hurt yourself? What if Dr Kry finds out? Your body won’t be able to take his anger. Besides, you have barely left the house in eighteen years — apart from a few car rides here and there — what if the world has changed to something you don’t like?
“Mom”, Nadia says slowly. “It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m terrified”, you admit. 
“We will be okay.”
They start to walk along the dark countryside road. There are no streetlight this far out in the forest, but the moon lights up enough for them to see where the road is heading. 
“It’s been years since I was outside last”, you say. “I think the last time I was out walking was in the garden, last summer when we had that picnic.”
“Have you ever tried to run away from dad before?” Nadia asks. 
“I have”, you answer quietly. “A few times.”
“Did you ever succeed?”
“That depends on what you mean by ‘succeeding’, because I’m still here, aren’t I? But I got away a few times … the only problem was that he found me again.” You sigh, realizing that perhaps you shouldn’t have this conversation with your underage daughter. “Forget that. Where are we going?”
“We need to go to our neighbors. They have to help us.”
Nadia has only spoken to the neighbors a few times, because of how rarely they run into each other. 
They only manage to walk a hundred meters before bright, beaming headlights light up in front of them. Nadia wants to flee into the forest — in case it happens to be her father behind the wheel — but can’t seem to pull you with her. The car stops and to Nadia’s horror, her father gets out. 
“What the Hell are you doing?!” he shouts, sounding both angry and terrified. “Y/N!”
You freeze in your spot and seem to crawl together like a hurt dog, sounding like one too. Dr Kry runs over to you. Nadia watches in horror and starts to panic, wondering what she should do. Stay here with you and get caught in Dr Kry’s claws … or make a run for it to try to get help. 
“I’m sorry”, you shriek in fear. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”
Dr Kry hugs your shaking body in his arms and strokes your back, hushing softly.
“I know you didn’t come up with this stupid idea”, he reassures you. “Don’t cry, my dear, I'm here now. I know this wasn't your fault. I'm not mad at you. I’ll get you back home and I'll take care of you. It’s going to be okay.”
He helps you into the front seat. You don’t fight back in the slightest. Nadia looks back at the dark forest and gulps. Her eyes glues onto something in the backseat and realizes that he has come back with her sister! 
“Nadia, get in, we've had enough of these childish outbursts”, her father tells her. “Get in. Now.”
“Is she okay?” Nadia almost stutters and points at her sleeping sister. 
“She’s okay. If you don’t get in now, Nadia, I’m taking them both with me and you’ll never see them again.”
His favoritism has never been clearer, Nadia thinks. She can’t leave her sister … so she gets into the backseat. Nadia wakes her sister up and caresses her cheek. 
“Are you okay?” she whispers quickly. “Did he hurt you?”
“I feel okay”, Lydia whispers back. “Just … tired. I had tro throw up a lot and I think that he gave me some sleeping pills or something. I insisted on going home … so he let me.”
Nadia breathes out. She glances over at the front seat. Their father holds the steering wheel with one hand and yours with the other. 
“Please don’t cry”, he wishes. 
Nadia watches on in disgust. 
When they get back to the white villah, Nadia pulls her sister up to her own room and lays her down on the bed while Dr Kry takes you into the master bedroom. 
“Here you go”, Nadia says and tucks her in. “Are you okay? Do you need anything?”
“Some water”, Lydia says quietly. 
Nadia disappears downstairs to get a glass of water. She meets her father in the stairs. 
“Nadia, I’m not sure your sister will be able to leave her bed for a while”, he says warningly. “I wouldn’t try to leave, if i were you. If you do, I will take both of them with me, and you’ll never see them again.”
“Do you like to hurt your family?” she spits back. “What kind of sadist are you?”
“One to make sure my family stays with me. If you don’t want to end up in the same physical state as your sister and mother, you’re going to continue living as if everything is normal, got that? Go to school, come home, study, continue everything. No talking to anyone about this. Is that clear?”
“So everything as normal … but without Lydia?”
“Exactly.”
“Why aren’t you healing her?”
“Because I’m not going to let you, or anyone, take my family from me. Be glad that I’m still letting you live normally.”
Nadia glares at him and continues up the stairs. She holds the glass to Lydia’s mouth, watching her sip. 
“What now?” she whispers. 
“I’m allowed to continue living like normally … and you don’t”, Nadia says quietly. “I’m sorry.”
“But … but I don’t want to live like mom!”
“I know. I’m sorry, Lyd.”
The girl in the bed sighs sadly. Naida takes her hand and gulps. 
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The coming weeks seem normal. Nadia goes to school, studies, returns to the villah, but nothing is the same. Without Lydia, there’s no use in being on top. She has no one to impress anymore. Her father is dead to her, and sucking up to him makes her sick. She barely talks to her friends anymore. They’re always asking her about Lydia, and why she’s not in school anymore. Nadia can’t come up with countless excuses … it’s easier to distance herself. 
Life doesn’t seem that bright and colorful anymore. Nadia can’t bring herself to be excited about things that used to interest her badly. Now, every day is a chore, something she wants to get done, until something happens … but she doesn’t know what it is. A death in the family? Someone saving them? Someone killing someone? 
Nadia walks out of school, seeing her fathers white car parked outside the gates, and him inside … waiting for her. 
1K notes · View notes
greenglowinspooks · 6 months
Text
(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent
Tw: vivisection mention (not in detail), bad Fenton parents
Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually
(Pt. 2 here) (Pt. 3 here)
(Masterlist/subscription post)
It was a dark, cold, miserable night, and Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, wanted nothing more than to be home, covered in blankets with the heater set to max as he worked on his most recent strain of fear toxin.
Instead he was at the docks, standing in as backup for the Penguin as he made a deal with some sleaze-bag smugglers. Something about some sort of body armor for his hired help. Crane hadn’t really paid much attention to the Penguin’s words, only caring enough to show up because of the reward.
But honestly, he couldn’t care less about the money at this point.
He was cold, and miserable, and his leg hurt something fierce (he’d had chronic pains ever since being mauled by Killer Croc some time ago), and he was so, so close to a breakthrough with his new toxin, and he really couldn’t stand the Penguin anyways. The only thing keeping him there was his reputation as a rogue.
Just as Crane was deciding that the whole ordeal wasn’t worth it, he heard the sound of a chase a few blocks down. With a deep, heavy sigh, he moved from the wall he had been leaning against, looming in the alleyway as he waited for the potential threat to reveal itself.
A few moments later, a boy came careening into the alleyway, sliding to a stop when he noticed the Scarecrow, his eyes growing impossibly wide. Beneath the mask, Jonathan grinned.
The boy swore, loudly, glancing between Scarecrow and the exit of the alleyway. As the echoing sound of footsteps grew closer, he chose to face the way he came, turning his back to Scarecrow.
What an idiotic way to get killed. Either the boy was a complete and utter fool, or there was something out there worse (to him, at least) than the Scarecrow.
Jonathan Crane tilted his head slowly, considering. He could just cut his losses and leave, Penguin be damned, or he could stay and see what had the boy so spooked.
Eventually, unfortunately enough, his curiosity won out. He shifted, bringing a hand to his side where he kept several canisters of fear toxin.
Crane had to bite back a groan when the boy’s pursuers entered the alleyway.
It was those damned idiots in white suits.
They had been tailing him for weeks now. They were easy enough to fight, but they were annoyingly persistent, and always seemed to have a way to find him. (Not to mention, the Riddler had strong opinions on their outfits, and if he had to hear the white-suit-in-Gotham rant one more time he was going to throttle him.)
Led by the men in white was a woman in a teal hazmat suit. Jonathan had seen her around, too, though less frequently than the others. He had honestly assumed that she was just a new C-tier rogue and avoided her like the plague.
Her eyes went wide as saucers when she saw Jonathan standing a few feet from the boy. No one moved a muscle.
“Danny,” the woman spoke softly. The boy, Danny, flinched, glancing between her and Scarecrow, “come on, we can talk about this. Your father and I only want to help you.”
He was running from his mother?
Scarecrow paused after that revelation, choosing to fully take in the boy’s appearance.
He was lean, almost gaunt, and wearing clothes several sizes too big for him, probably stolen. His entire body shook, from fear and cold both, and he clutched his stomach with one hand. At first, Scarecrow assumed that it was due to being out of breath, but as he looked closer he could see blood staining the dark fabric of the boy’s shirt.
He was injured, underweight, and running from his parents.
Something that felt a lot like rage swelled in Jonathan’s heart.
“Danny, you don’t get it! We’re so close now. We can fix you, and then we can go home, and everything can go back to normal,” she said, smiling in a way that was clearly supposed to be reassuring. She took a few steps forward, the men behind her clearly readying their weapons.
The boy backed away from his mother, inadvertently coming closer to Scarecrow.
He glanced up at Crane again, his blue eyes shining in fear, but not of him.
Sickening. Sickening.
In one fluid motion, Jonathan grabbed the boy by the wrist, pulling him behind him, and threw a large canister of fear gas into the group who had been chasing him.
The liquid in the container turned to gas as soon as it broke open, billowing out and filling half of the alleyway with a thick yellow smog.
The boy gasped, pulling his shirt over his face in a pathetic attempt to filter out the toxin. It would have to do, though, Scarecrow thought, rushing forward to force the boy’s aggressors to breathe in the gas.
The fight that the men put up was pitiful. The few individuals who didn’t breathe in the toxin immediately were clearly unused to fighting hand-to-hand, and dropped like flies in Scarecrow’s wake.
Just as the men began to spasm and shout in their terror, as if on cue, the familiar wail of police sirens reached the Scarecrow’s ears.
He heaved a heavy, irritated sigh, fingers twitching for a cigarette. He was trying to quit as of late, but he felt that after today, he might deserve one.
Though now was not the time to be thinking of cigarettes.
Jonathan approached the boy, mindful of any signs he might run off.
The boy didn’t seem to notice his approach in the slightest, just staring at the woman in the jumpsuit as she writhed on the ground.
Right. That would most likely be traumatic for a child to see, wouldn’t it?
Scarecrow moved in front of the boy, blocking his line of sight. The boy looked up at him now, his face completely blank.
“The police are on their way,” Scarecrow spoke, his voice low. The boy didn’t acknowledge him in any way.
“You don’t want to be here when they arrive, do you?”
After several moments pause, the boy shook his head slowly. He looked numb.
Dissociation, most likely.
“You’ll come with me, then.”
It was a statement, not a question, but he waited for the boy’s response regardless. As soon as he nodded in agreement, Jonathan lifted him up, carrying him out of the cold, miserable alleyway.
Scarecrow paused briefly to warn the Penguin of the incoming officers through the comm he had been given, and then he was off, weaving through the streets and alleyways towards his getaway car.
The drive back to his safe house was quiet. The boy didn’t look over at him once, instead opting to stare out ahead of him.
Luckily, they were able to make it back without detection. Jonathan ushered the boy into his small apartment, sitting him down on the dingy couch that had come with the lease.
“Wait here, alright?” Jonathan said, the boy nodding once in response.
With that, he retreated into the small kitchen, looking for some sort of warm beverage.
It was nearly three in the morning now, so coffee was out of the question. He was completely out of the hot chocolate he had bought for whenever Eddie or Harley came over for a visit, so that was out too.
He supposed the only option was his chamomile tea. Did teenagers like tea? He supposed it didn’t really matter, the kid was on the run from his parents in the house of a Gotham rogue. Surely he had bigger things to worry about.
Jonathan made the drinks quickly, leaving the kitchen with two mugs in hand. He gave one to the boy, who looked up at him in surprise, before settling into his own seat.
It was an incredibly comfortable old leather armchair that he had gotten some years ago and stubbornly held onto ever since. He usually had one of the rogues he was at least somewhat friendly with pick it up when he entered Arkham.
Whenever Eddie and Harley were over, they would call it his old man chair, and he would tell them to leave.
The two of them sat quietly for a while, drinking their tea slowly. It was clear that the boy was leaving whatever headspace he had slipped into, becoming more alert (and uncomfortable) by the second.
“So,” Crane began, pausing before speaking more quietly when he saw the boy flinch, “you knew them.”
It was not a question.
The boy nodded, curling in on himself. He held the mug close to his chest, no doubt soothed by the warmth.
“They’ve been following me around for some time now,” Crane continued, “and you’re going to tell me why.”
The boy looked up at him, a pained expression written all over his face.
“You won’t believe me,” he murmured, curling up even further.
His clothes were soaked. Jonathan should have put down a towel before letting him sit down.
“Sure I will,” he said, ignoring the blood and water seeping into his furniture.
The landlord would not be happy.
“It’s gonna sound crazy.”
“I’ve been to Arkham.”
The boy paused, before mumbling something quietly.
“Again? I couldn’t hear you.”
“I said,” the boy huffed, quickly changing his tone when he remembered who he was talking to, “they…think you’re a ghost.”
“A ghost,” Crane repeated flatly.
“I told you it was gonna sound crazy!” The boy protested, before wrapping his arms around himself.
“Well,” Jonathan hummed, “it’s not the strangest thing I’ve heard in Gotham. Explain it to me.”
The boy paused, glancing up at his face, no doubt looking for some sign of mockery. He found none.
Then, he opened his mouth, and explained everything he could.
Ghosts, the portal to another world, the GiW, his parents. It was all incredibly far-fetched, but also far too consistent to be made up on the spot, and Crane could tell that the boy genuinely believed what he was saying.
“…but, if you don’t believe me, fine. I know it probably sounds stupid and fake,” he mumbled, looking away.
“I’ll believe you for now,” Crane said. The boy whipped his head up, staring at him in shock.
“If I do trust that what you’re saying is true, though, then why do I show up on their equipment as a ghost? I’m not dead, and never have been.”
“Um,” the boy hummed, looking somewhat nervous. Understandable, really.
“Well, have you by any chance been involved in any lab accidents recently..?”
Jonathan Crane froze, his face dropping. The boy noticed his change in demeanor, flinching slightly.
“Penguin,” he hissed out, his voice slightly inhuman. “Cobblepot, that motherfucker.”
“Wait—calm down! The angrier you get, the easier you’ll show up on the radar!”
Crane glared down at the boy, seething with rage. He once again flinched, looking away from him. With an extraordinary amount of effort, Jonathan slumped back down in his chair, breathing deeply in an effort to calm himself.
When he cracked his eyes back open, the boy was openly staring at him, curiosity written all over his face.
As soon as he noticed Crane looking back at him, he glanced away, straightening in his seat.
“Well, you’ve given me a lot to think about. In the morning, we’re going to discuss this in a lot more detail,” he said, standing up with slow movements. The boy stood as well, hands clasped together.
“For now, though, you’re going to let me take a look at that wound of yours, and then you’re going to take a shower and go to bed.”
The rest of the night went rather quickly.
The boy was rather hesitant to show him his wound, instead assuring him that it had been properly sewn up and that he was fine. Crane was having none of it, though, and gave him a once-over just in case.
It was, very clearly, the kind of cut used during an autopsy. Danny didn’t offer any information, so Crane had to assume that he was either back from the dead, or he had been vivisected. Either was possible in Gotham.
At the very least, Danny hadn’t lied about the stitches, and the wound was already beginning to heal.
With that, Danny showered quickly (he leapt out with a shriek the moment the hot water ran out), and went to bed in borrowed clothes without much complaint.
Thus, Jonathan was left with cold water for his shower, and slept on the still-damp couch so that the boy could have a bed to sleep in. Somehow, he found that he didn’t mind as much as he thought he would.
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queers-gambit · 4 months
Text
What Goes Around, Comes Around
prompt: ( requested ) Billy's known for his temper and being obsessed with his pretty little girlfriend - which gets her severely injured by his past transgressions.
pairing: Billy Hargrove x female!cheerleader!reader reader and Billy are both 18+, seniors in high school
word count: 6.7k+
fandom masterlist: Stranger Things
note: you're a liar if you didn't immediately start singing Justin Timberlake's "What Goes Around... Comes Around".
warnings: remember there are different responses to trauma! some people shut down, stop talking; others jabber and chatter nervously. reader is the latter. we got angst, we got literal hurt and comfort, established relationship. term "going postal" is used, cursing, technically underage drinking, not edited, author mildly gave up at the end. triggering content: depictions of physical violence, depictions of injury and blood, depiction of abuse, violent plots, Billy's girl gets physically assaulted (but it's minimally detailed).
DO NOT read if this content can potentially trigger you. you are NOT missing anything, you will miss NOTHING by skipping this, but i do try to keep the details as neutral as possible. again, prioritize yourself, mental health, and emotional state - this ain't worth the read if it's gonna upset you, i promise. author loves you all
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"That's fucking her, I swear to God."
"You sure?"
"100%. That's Billy's little bitch he's obsessed with."
The three guys smirked at one another, eyeing you across the living room as you giggled and drank with a few friends in adorable, fashion forward outfits. Someone started a game of beer pong, you on the sidelines to cheer, giving them a full-show of your form.
"She's hot," Jake mused. "I can see why he keeps her so close."
"Nah, not tonight," Lawrence frowned, "heard they got in some huge fight at school. Like, she walked home and he sped off in his car."
"Hm, heard he's ridiculously protective of her... She must've really pissed him off," the third boy, Steven, nodded. "So, he's not here tonight?"
"Doubt it," Jake nodded.
"Go find out," Steven advised. "There, the basketball bros - one of them would know. Or a cheerleader," he eyed the crowd. "Chrissy's over there, Brittany's beside her - they'd be the best bet in my mind."
"We seriously considering this?" Lawrence asked with a small, nervous chuckle. "I mean, it's kinda crazy, isn't it? We're gonna send Billy Hargrove a message by roughing up his girl? There's not some better way?"
"I'd love to hear it," Steven scoffed. "Billy's too comfortable at the top of the school, broke my fucking nose and deviated Jake's septum. Didn't he fuck your sister the first week he was here, Lawrence?"
"I mean - "
"Broke her fucking heart, didn't he?" Jake tacked on.
"Well, yeah," Lawrence sighed, shrugging.
"You tell me, dude, was that shit fair?"
"No," Lawrence looked down.
"So, yeah, I know, it's bad to hit a lady - but what about my boot? Huh?" Steven smirked, nodding. "Go find out what you can. Last thing we need is Billy walkin' in the party, right?"
Jake nodded with enthusiasm, leaving Lawrence behind. He hesistated but then did as Steven asked; asking the present basketball team members if Billy gave indication he was coming. The cheerleaders assured he wouldn't dare show up when you were there after a very public fight, and if he did, it would be to cause another scene.
So, after reporting back to Steven, a plan was formed. Lawrence didn't seem fully on board, but in an effort to save his own skin, he went along with what Jake and Steven were plotting - even if that meant roughing up a woman. Something his mama and grandmama vehemently taught him not to do...
Something churned in his stomach when he heard how the two lads were nearly foaming at the mouth to get their revenge. So, he casually went to grab another drink - pausing where a few of your friends were. "Oi," he whispered, earning their attention.
"Hey, Law," Chrissy smiled.
"Hey, Chris," he sniffled, glancing around. "Listen, uh, you seen Billy 'round?"
"No? Why?"
"Hmm, just, uh... Heard his girl was all upset, thought maybe her drinking all that much was a bad idea without him around."
"Oh," Chrissy blinked, looking up at her boyfriend, Jason, as he approached the group with two drinks in hand. "I didn't think about it like that, Law."
"What's wrong?" Jason asked.
"No, nothing, Lawrence just pointed out how shitty it is to drink without someone watching your back," she pouted.
He nodded, "You lose your friends, man?"
"No, just tryna look out," Lawrence shrugged. "Few girls here drinking a lot, not a lot of defenses 'round them."
Jason frowned, "That's kinda their man's job, isn't it?"
"What if their man isn't here?"
"I'm gonna be right back," Chrissy smiled, parting ways with her girlfriend in tow - and when Law looked, they were using the kitchen telephone. He prayed they were phoning the Hargrove residence.
Lawrence sighed in slight relief and nodded to Jason; the white boy just nodding back silently and letting the other athlete pass him by to head back for Jake and Steven. He grabbed an unopened beer on his way to maintain appearances.
"Hey, we got it," Jake smirked at the third boy, "she just went outside, we should move now."
"Huh?" Law mumbled.
"C'mon," Steven growled, pushing off the mantle and stalking for the backdoors to follow your retreating form.
"Wait, what're we doing?" Law asked, trying to keep up with the drunken, elongated strides of the two dickheads he called 'friends'. "Hey! Guys, c'mon - what's going on?"
"Just - shut up, pussy boy, let's go, fuckin' keep up," Steven sneered, shoving the glass door out of his way and nearly cracking it.
Outside, the in-ground pool was alight with multicolored lights. There were teenagers littered all around the pool deck; some lounging and some standing, all drinking. There was a kegstand in play, ping pong table hosting another game of Beer Pong, and the thick stench of cigarette smoke in the air.
"She's over there," Jake pointed, their sights turning to see you leaning over to huff on your cigarette while Tammy May Flipsen lit the end of it. Your smile was genuine as you thanked her, just stepping two feet away to gaze up at the stars - a perfect time to strike.
The alcohol in everyone's system made them slow, vulnerable, and downright stupid; leaving Steven and Jake the opportunity to seize either of your arms and literally rush you around the corner of the house without anyone intervening.
Once in the remote side yard, the sickening plan commenced.
Lawrence could barely approach, managing to watch with tears in his eyes as the noises of the party masked the noises of pain you emitted; two nearly full-grown men took out their anger towards your boyfriend on you. You cried, begged for reprieve, sounded so confused and broken that it shattered Lawrence's heart - briefly thinking what if someone did this to his sister...
That made him spring into action. "Hey! No! No, this ain't right! Get off her!" Lawrence barked, shoving the two away from your body on the ground. "That's enough - back off - fuck is wrong with you!?"
"What the fuck do you think you're doing!?" Steven demanded.
"Bitch has it coming!"
"What? You fuckin' her, too? Got you pussy whipped like Billy Boy?"
"Just fuck off, beating on a girl!" Lawrence snapped, but it was a huge mistake. Jake and Steven shared a single look before launching at the third boy, beating him as they had you - but much harder. He swore he earned a concussion, their heels stomping his neck, collarbones, wrists, ribs, ankles; exactly the same as they did to you.
"Tryna defend her now!?" Jake heaved, giving a swift kick to Lawrence's kidney. "Huh? You're so scared of Billy but you're gonna mess with his girl?" He laughed. "She must have a magic cunt or something!"
"You're so fucking pathetic, you have to beat up a girl!?" Law shot right back, earning a swift kick to the jaw from the lad that used to play soccer (or American fútbol). "Huh? Two on one? Such big men, aren't yah?" He sneered again, spitting blood to the side.
"Leave it," Steven halted Jake when he charged again, "they're both pretty fucked."
"Well, that dumbass should learn a lesson 'bout interfering!"
"Law's learned - he has, bro, and if he wants, he can learn again," Steven spat on Lawrence's form, Jake doing the same to you - both eventually stalking away like bored toddlers walking away from broken toys.
Slowly, Lawrence grunted as he pulled himself up to sit against the side of the house. "Fuck's sake," he whispered, wiping his eyes and wincing when he felt the sore skin - trailing a finger up, wincing again when he discovered split skin above his eyebrow. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck," Law drawled when you slowly peaked up from your fetal position on the ground. "Hey, hey, you all right? Stupid question," he hissed in pain when he moved to try and assist you.
You cried out when his grip laid on you, but powered through to let him help you sit against the house, too. "Holy shit," you whispered, blood dribbling from your mouth; teeth feeling loose, a headache already assaulting you, and cuts stinging in the bitter night.
"I'm so sorry."
"N-No, you - it would've been so much worse if you hadn't..." You trailed off, sniffling, "You didn't have t'jump in, you got hurt 'cause of me."
"You got hurt 'cause of Billy," Lawrence frowned.
"Huh?"
"That's why they're so pissed off," Lawrence explained, spitting more blood to the side; his jeans stained with mud, blood, and grass. "Billy got their asses few weeks ago, they're still pissed... I heard them," he deflected smoothly, "talkin' about teaching Billy a lesson through you. Didn't feel right, but I should've stopped them so much sooner. I-I'm sorry I didn't do more, Y/N."
"You did more than anyone else," you whimpered, drawing your knees into your chest to lock your arms around them. "I don't even know them, they go to our school?"
"We're all in AP History with Snyder."
You paused to nod absently, not even bothering to try and recall any interactions you might've had with Steven and Jake. Instead, you eyed your savior, mumbling, "You're Lawrence, right?"
"Yeah," he breathed.
"Your sister's... Cara? Sarah? No, no," you paused to think, his frown deepening as you seemed so nice and authentic. "Your sister's name is Natalie, right?"
"Yeah," he half-smiled. "You know her?"
"She's a sweetheart, has those cute glasses? Yeah, I like her; she just joined cheer, right?"
"Yeah, that's her."
You eyed him for a moment, ignoring the blood dripping off you both from the beat down; then whispered with a sniffle, "Is that why you helped? 'Cause your sister's on the cheer squad, too?"
"No," he replied instantly, sounding quiet (like you), "I'd like to believe if I saw something I know is wrong... I'd be the type of person to step in, try to stop it."
"You did tonight."
"I should've done more a lot sooner."
"You could've been really hurt, Law."
"Like you?"
"I'm just - look, two guys? Beatin' on me? Yeah," you scoffed, wiping blood from your split lip, "like I ever stood a chance. But you didn't have t'do all that, they wanted Billy, found me instead. You could've walked away, but instead, you jumped in, and you could've been really hurt. That wouldn't help anyone."
"I'm still sorry..."
You sniffled, but before you could respond, you heard footsteps thundering over the lawn; a voice shouting your name in frantic, panicked little outbursts. Looking up, you caught sight of a black leather jacket and unruly blonde curls, frowning deeper. "Oh, fuck," you whispered, withdrawing into yourself, "oh, no, no, not now. Not now, Goddamnit. Think I can make a run for it to the street before he sees me?" You asked Law quietly, nearly hissing your whisper.
"Ain't that Billy?" Law asked, finger pointed.
"He can't see me," you rushed in a panic, eyes wide and tears welling. "Lawrence, he can't!"
"Why?"
"He'll go on a fucking rampage, Lawrence! Ever heard going postal? Yeah, Bee gives that shit new meaning."
"They'd deserve whatever Billy wants t'do," Law frowned, tensing up when Billy had turned, caught sight of you two, and made an angry beeline for you in the grass. "U-Uh, Billy's approaching," he warned you as your boyfriend arrived, trying to pull back to give privacy, but wincing in pain that made him stop.
"The fuck is going - ? Oh, my fuckin' God," Billy trailed off, then whispered when he saw you huddled on the ground; your dress in tatters. Your head was bowed, knees drawn in, refusing to meet his eyes; making your leather-clad boyfriend lower himself to a knee. "Baby? Hey, look at me, sweet girl, lemme see... C'mon, baby, please, look at me."
You only sniffled.
"It was Jake and Steven," Lawrence told Billy, trying to find his feet; falling over and just giving up.
"Hell happened to you, man?"
Lawrence frowned, looking nervous, but your voice answered, "He saved me, Bee. Jumped in, took some of the beating."
Billy looked between you and Lawrence, but focused on you - seeing the injuries to your face and chest in full light. "Oh, my God," he breathed, looking you over in shock. Those pink, pillowy lips you adored licking and sucking on were parted in shock.
You half-smiled, "Think you pissed a few of the wrong guys off."
"Jesus Christ, sweet girl. What happened? Tell me, please, before I start making assumptions," he demanded, reaching for your cheek - making you recoil hard enough that your head banged on the house supporting your exhausted body. "Hey, hey," he whispered, looking physically wounded by your action, "'s just me, baby, it's just me, it's Bee, I'm not gonna hurt you. C'mon, sweetheart, lemme help you."
You sniffled, letting him reach for you again and caress your cheek so he could direct your head left and right; giving him a full view of your injuries that continued to weep. He stiffened as he took note of a new cut or bruise upon every new sweep of his eyes, his anger skyrocketing with every passing moment.
"It hurts," you whimpered. "Apparently, you beat the shit outta those guys weeks ago - guess they were waiting for an opening to strike back."
"You don't deserve this," he growled angrily. "Fuck - look at you! Goddamnit, I'm so sorry, princess, this is my fault. All my fucking fault, shit," he hissed, looking close to tears, "I put you here, I'm so sorry, baby."
"Got Lawrence his ass beat, too," you pouted.
"Sorry about this, man," Billy instantly offered the other boy, who was practically slumped over in the grass. He still managed to give a thumbs up. "But, uh, thank you for stepping in. You know, not a whole lotta people would."
"Nah, it was the right thing to do," Law frowned, waving him off.
"You said Jake and Steven did this?"
"Mhm," Law nodded. "Jake Chastain and Steven Barton."
"Yeah, I know 'em," Billy shook his head, "and I'll fuckin' kill 'em - "
"Can we get cleaned up first? Before we go murdering high school jocks?" You pouted in pain.
"Hey, man. You got a friend here or something? Someone to help us?" Billy asked Lawrence, still caressing your face with his thumb sweeping the apple of your cheek.
"My sister's 'round, yeah..."
"Want me to grab her?" Billy offered awkwardly.
"I'd actually appreciate it," Law whispered. "Gotta get home, yeah?"
"Yeah, man. Stay here, I'll grab her," Billy agreed. "What's her name?"
"Natalie, she's a cheerleader. Um... Y-You dated her beginning of the year?"
"I remember," he sighed, standing to his feet. He told you earnestly, almost sweetly, "I'll be fast."
But the thing is, you knew Billy all too well by now. "Wait, no," you gasped, trying to stand, "Bee, don't!" It was too late, he was already gone by the time you and Lawrence stumbled out from hiding; just in time to watch Billy point Natalie towards where you and her brother were. Then, he turned and surged up to an unsuspecting Jake and Steven; launching an all-out brawl against the two.
Neither of them stood a chance when Billy was THIS angry. Nobody did. In fact, if Jason, Tommy H., and two other guys hadn't pulled him back, surely, there'd be a lot more than a couple of broken bones. However, when Billy told the other basketball players in a spit-flying rage that these two cowards had attacked his girlfriend (a few turning back to get a look at you), it launched a new, mutual anger. Chrissy and a few other cheerleaders wanted to step in when the "fight" (more like attack) started again, but when they saw you, Lawrence, and Natalie, nobody said a single word. Nobody interfered. Nobody interrupted, and luckily, nobody else joined in...
Before Jake and Steven could lose their lives or sustain serious injury that would result in any arrests, Billy was pulled back by Lawrence - of all people. "Hey, hey," the beaten boy barked, "hey, man, chill - chill! These guys deserve it, yeah, I fucking know, but look, hey!" He grabbed Billy's shoulders to prevent him from turning back for the fray. "Hey! Your girl needs you, man. She needs you more than these bozos. C'mon, you can't go to jail over this shit, right? Right? How mad you gonna be if you get bagged 'cause of these jackasses?"
This seemed to force Billy back to reality and out of his homicidal rage. A few dudes who played football stepped in to hoist the unconscious jocks over their shoulders just to leave them on the curb a couple houses down the street.
Billy raced back to you.
Chrissy and Natalie were helping wipe blood from your skin and hair; clothes damaged, ripped, stained, beyond repair, and another cheerleader was holding a bag of frozen peas to your head as you leaned on her stomach. He slid his jacket from his shoulders, easing you off the girl's belly to leave it around your trembling form and then taking the girl's spot, supporting your body as you were tended to.
Eventually, Chrissy sighed, "I think that's the best we're gonna get you, honey. You want us to come over in the mornings? Help you get dressed and do your make-up?"
"No offense, but I don't think that's necessary... It's not like what happened is a secret," Natalie whispered, looking you over.
"Make-up might irritate the injuries," the other girl offered softly. "But it might cover some of those bruises, I just would avoid the cuts."
"I'm okay, girls, but thank you," you assured softly. "Bee's here t'help."
"Yeah, taking you straight to the hospital," he decided stiffly from behind you.
"What?"
"Think I'm not gonna get you checked out after this? Two men attacked you, I gotta make sure ain't shit's seriously wrong, baby. Don't fight me on this, please."
Billy's mind was warped with memories of sitting in ER's and other clinics with his mother nursing a broken wrist or damaged eye socket. His father's anger had always been a temperamental switch, something Billy felt he always had to outdo. Being in the hospital with you felt too similar, another bolt of rage zinging through his blood; hating the idea that you were the victim, and like his mother, he wasn't able to protect you.
Unlike his mother, this situation was directly his fault. He didn't even remember why he beat the shit outta Steven and Jake all those weeks ago, but whatever the reason, it cost him now. Cost you both.
The party continued inside the house, but Billy walked around the side yard, down to the front, then towards the street full of parked cars with you secure in his arms. After getting you settled safely in the passenger seat of his Camaro, Billy rightened and shut the door; seeing Lawrence and Natalie approaching their own car, the bag of peas now held to his jaw and cheek.
His sister was under his arm, helping him hobble. Billy gulped, realizing Lawrence was beat to hell, too, and if he hadn't jumped in, Lord only knew what state you'd be in now. When the two men caught one another's eye, Billy offered a nod of respect and thanks; the other lad returning it as if to say he was welcome. Billy raced for the driver's door, sliding in, and without turning any music on, drove off towards the hospital.
You were grumpy to be there, but one look at you had the medical staff moving at a quickened pace to help you; offering speedy aid. You were cleaned and cared for; questions regarding the level of assault making you nervous, but you answered honestly that two classmates had jumped you at a party. This meant the police were called; tears in your eyes and down your cheeks when you had to tell Chief Hopper (a close family friend) exactly what happened.
Billy provided their assailant’s full names and promised they wouldn't be in the best shape when (slash if) the two were found.
After hearing your story and writing the names down from Billy, Hopper sighed in empathy, "Kid... Don't admit t'anything."
"I'm not, I'm just making a casual note," Billy countered. "You know, people don't take too kindly to people hittin' a woman. Less so when she's drunk, alone, and they fuckin' stomp on her - "
"All right," Hopper tried to halt his built up anger. "Let's just take a breath here - "
"Uh, Chief?" His deputy interrupted. "Them boys? Uh, a... Jake Chastain and Steven Barton? They were just wheeled in from an ambulance."
"Interesting," Hopper noted, sparing Billy a small look. "From where?"
"A neighbor called them in, said there's a party few houses from her on Hawthorne."
Jim Hopper sighed and turned to you and Billy with his hands on his hips. His face was passively angry. "Sound familiar?" He asked, tongue sweeping over his teeth.
"Yes," you answered for you both, "that's where it happened, Chief."
His eyes softened when he looked back at you. "All right," he nodded, looking to his partner. "Go stand by their room, keep an eye - I'll be there in a second, but the victims made a positive ID. Doc's will treat 'em and we'll book 'em." When left alone, Hopper took a suspicious look around the hospital floor before sliding the curtains shut around your bed; moving to your other side, removing his hat, and kneeling. "Listen, kid," he whispered, taking your hand softly, "I got a daughter at home, too, and if anyone - and I mean, anyone - laid a hand on her the way you were tonight, I'd burn this town to the fucking ground."
Billy snorted in amusement, "Know the feeling."
Hopper nodded, "So believe me when I say, I need to know, off the record, what really happened tonight. Your father will need to know that I am doing everything to help - but I need to know the truth."
"I don't know what to tell you, Hopper," you frowned, matching his quiet tone, "I've told you what I know. I was a few drinks in, stepped outside t'smoke, and that's when they grabbed me, took me t'the side yard, and started wailing on me. I dropped, they kept goin', that's when this other boy stepped in. He got beat up pretty good, too, but he helped get them away. Billy showed up, we came here - "
"I hit them," Billy interrupted, making you squeak lightly. Hopper just laid his other hand over yours so he cocooned it; glancing around the under skirts of the curtains to make sure you remained alone.
Then he asked, "When?"
"After I made sure Y/N was okay," Billy explained, petting a hand over the back of your head; never looking away from Hopper. "I found her friend's sister, made sure someone knew where they were, and then I hit them... And I didn't stop hitting them."
"Kid - "
"Some teammates pulled me off, don't worry - it could've been so much worse. But when the others found out what they did to my girl?" He hissed quietly, "They took matters into their own hands by themselves, sir. My girl was attacked, I couldn't let that just slide, Chief, I hope you understand."
Hopper sighed, "Well, I can't condone the violence, but since it was a group effort, be a helluva lot more paperwork bringing you in versus those two who started it."
Billy nodded absently, your free hand laying over Hopper's to stack. "Did you call my dad?" You asked nervously.
"Not yet," he frowned. "I gotta check on the suspects, but I can after."
"Could you not? For me, please?" You sniffled. "He'll just worry and would get all pissy 'cause his trip has to be cut - "
"He's not home?" Hopper asked in earnest confusion with knitted brows.
Your head shook, "Chicago for the week."
"He left eight days ago," Billy snipped.
"Bee," you reprimanded sharply.
"Hey," Hopper squeezed your hand, "it's okay, you're over 18, I don't have to call him. But El and I are gonna drop by later with dinners and to check on you, her little friend, too, probably. You know, the, uh... The little red head?"
"Max?" You asked.
"Yeah, her. Nice girl."
"She's Billy's step-sister," you snickered, wincing when your broken ribs protested.
"You should rest," Hopper bid, "and thank you for being honest," he stood to his feet while nodding at Billy. "Tell you what, I won't report you starting the fight - technically... It'll be reported as a randomized group effort after they were caught assaulting Y/N."
Billy nodded, too shocked for words as Hopper patted your hand, placed his hat on, and exited the little curtained room. "Wow," your boyfriend breathed. "Since when are you friends with the Chief of Police?"
"He and my dad go way back," you eased.
"All cops like him?"
"Fuck no, you know that." After a beat, you reached for his hand to lace your fingers with him, "Hey," you bid, "I-I'm really sorry."
"Baby, just - don't even start - "
"No, for earlier, for our fight," you interrupted, "and for feeling petty enough to go to the party alone when I know you don't like that... For drinking, not being more aware like you taught me. I didn't use the buddy-system when I went t'smoke, it was a major fuck-up, I know, but I'm just sorry. I feel like I've disappointed you or something - "
"No, hey, sweet girl," he rushed, sitting on the edge of the gurney to stare at you directly, "don't you ever feel that way - you didn't do nothing wrong. Hear me? You didn't put yourself in this position, you didn't deserve what happened, you didn't - no, just," he sighed deeply, "you didn't do any of this, sweetheart. Okay? If anything... If anything, this is my fucking fault and I'm the one who is so sorry."
Your head shook, but Billy continued,
"They did this to you because of me." Tears filled those sweet baby blues. "Because I don't have a hold of my temper - I fucked them up, so, they fucked you up. This is my fault, I'm so sorry. But look, hey, I'll fix this, okay? I swear to God - I'm gonna fix this."
"The cops got 'em, we don't have t'do anything else," you mumbled. "You don't have to do anything else, Billy."
"Maybe not, but I can't let this go - look at you," a single tear dripped. "Fucking look at you, my sweet girl. In the fucking hospital 'cause of me - I can't - this ain't right. I gotta make it right."
You couldn't answer because a technician was arriving to take you for a CT, MRI, and X-Ray - all of those scans that would tell them what was going on internally. Hopper was seen outside the two boy's rooms - Billy following your bed closely as you where wheeled away. Every scan or test he could remain close for, he was; stepping back when needed, but being sucked right back to your side when able.
By the end of the night, you were released into Billy's care because all patients with head injuries had to have some kind of chaperone, and a few floors up, Steven and Jake were being handcuffed to their hospital beds by Hopper.
"Real lucky I wasn't there when you hit her," Jim Hopper seethed quietly, tightening the cuff on Jake to an uncomfortable grip. "Your parents would need money for your funerals - not bail," he offered one single more glare before leaving the next shift of deputies on duty. He sped all the way home and held Eleven in a suffocating hug.
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Turns out, you sustained decent injuries from that night.
A (cleanly) broken ankle. Six different broken ribs. Split lip that required two stitches. Stitched earlobes from where piercings were ripped out. Severely bruised collarbones, bordering on broken. One blackened eye. Along with other generic bruises and cuts, more seemingly discovered as the days drug by slowly.
Billy was ready to mow down anyone in his way at any point, but his only ability to get through the school day was that he saw you everyday afterward. He dropped whatever sport and / or club that held his interest, collecting coursework you missed, then driving Max and "Jane" Hopper to your place. He would've lashed out if this was any other situation, but because you asked him to behave and bring you the materials you needed, he did. He played nice.
The two assailants, Steven and Jake, had been arrested by Jim Hopper. They apparently had a rough ride to the station, but that wasn't here or there. What they did to you was far worse that nobody batted a single lash when the two were brought in the station for booking, looking freshly beat up and bloodied. A judge also rejected their bail.
Billy brought you whatever work you missed during your recovery at home, most teachers shocked to see him so diligent in showing up and making the collections. He didn't understand whatever the teachers told him about the work, but you did - and it was fascinating to him, watching you work or study. He usually sat by your window to smoke, but on the occasion, you asked for a toke and wouldn't care about where the smoke blew. So, as weeks passed, he stopped specifically going over to your window; just leaving it open for ventilation so he could remain at your side.
Anything you needed, he got. He did. He gave you. Guilt was one helluva motivator and Billy was chalked-full; so, he did the only thing he knew he could, being acts of service.
You were laid up, it made sense. He could bring you into the shower, get naked himself and help you bathe. He could carry you downstairs, cook for you, help out around the house by keeping it clean because he knew it stressed you out. He would collect the mail, water plants, do dishes, just turned into a househusband that made your stomach and cheeks feel all warm and fuzzy. Never did you think Billy had the ability to be domestic, but here he was, in your great-grandmother's kitchen, wearing a stained apron while trying to bake cookies while you worked on a physics project.
"Hey, Bee?"
"What's wrong?" He asked instantly, setting the hot tray to the stove.
"No, hey, calm down," you smiled with a small laugh. "I was just wondering... You know, like... What's gotten into you?"
"Huh?"
"You know what I mean," you huffed, setting your pencil down. "You literally haven't let me out of your sight except when you're at school."
He shrugged, "You need help."
"You don't ask if I do."
"I don't need to ask when I can just see it."
"Billy."
He sighed and begrudgingly scraped cookies off the hot tray to rest on the cooling sheets. "Your dad asked me to stay close," he offered.
"Bullshit."
"No, really," Billy insisted. "He's in and out with work, so, he asked me to stick around, just in case."
"Okay, fine, but it's more than that. Billy, tell me the truth, baby, please. It's not a bad thing, I'm just curious what's really going on."
"I'm just... I'm just nervous, you know?"
Your head cocked, "Why's that?"
"Look what happened to you," he chuckled ruefully. "All fucked up, can't even go t'school until your ribs are healed - all 'cause of me. 'Cause I fucked up and went too far - "
"William," you snapped, making his wide, shocked eyes meet yours. "I'm not gonna listen to this anymore. Okay? I know you're sorry, you tell me everyday, andI know you're feeling guilty, but this isn't your fault, you're not the one who put hands on me - "
You flinched when he lobbed the cookie tray into the sink, causing a ruckus, his voice yelling over the noise, "FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"
"William!"
"I'm trying to protect you!" He yelled, tears swelling when he whipped around to face you. "I-I don't know what else to do! Look, okay, say what you fucking want, but the truth is, those two assholes came at you 'cause of me. Okay? 'Cause I had to be myself and beat the shit outta them 3 months ago, they never forgave - they didn't forget. I put you in this situation, that now? Now, yeah!" He laughed without humor. "Yeah! I'm fucking nervous leaving you alone! Fuck knows what could happen to you, and who's to say there aren't more people out there just waiting for this kinda opportunity! Baby!" He rushed for you at the kitchen table, your mouth sewn shut in shock as he found his knees in front of you and took both your hands in his. "Baby, listen to me. You're the only thing - no, I'm serious!" He insisted when you looked ready to protest this sentiment you've heard before. "You're the only thing I fucking care about, that I want to protect, and they all know it - I don't exactly hide it. I love you so fucking much, they'd do this again - they'd fucking hurt you to get to me and that idea just..." He sighed, looking lost.
You pulled a hand free to instantly caress his cheek, turning his attention upward until his eyes met yours. "Billy," you whispered, "baby, nobody's after us. This was just a freak accident, this was a fluke, okay? You're worried anyone else is gonna come at me, at us, but I know nobody else is that fucking stupid. They wouldn't test you, and Jake and Steven took advantage of an already bad situation. Okay? We had a fight - which was pretty public. So, people knew we were at odds, and when I showed up at that party alone, started drinking, it was their perfect opportunity to strike."
"You can't say that, we don't know if anyone else is gonna test us," he sniffled. "I've made a lot of mistakes... Pissed a lot of people off. One of them might've grown a pair."
"Okay," you relented, "then I guess we're gonna have to stick together, you know... So you can keep me safe, right?"
He chuckled dryly, "I'm trying, princess."
"Well, we can work out a better way - one that doesn't run you into the fucking ground, Billy, Jesus," you searched his face. "Are you sleeping? At all?"
"'Course I am - "
"Don't lie to me."
He sighed, deflating a little, "I sleep... Only when I stay here."
"Billy, you stay only a couple nights a week when Daddy's home."
"I know."
"So, you basically only sleep when Daddy's out of town and you stay here?" You squeaked, watching him nod; pouting and feeling your own guilt brew. "Baby... Look, can we just agree that this isn't either of our faults? Right? Yeah? If I'm not allowed to think this was my fault, you aren't either."
"I was the one they wanted t'hurt," he shook his head. "They did this 'cause of me, sweetheart, how can you be so - so - fuck! So fucking understanding a-and forgiving?"
"Because I love you," you answered like it was common knowledge, even giving a small giggle.
"That doesn't... But that doesn't even - "
"What? Mean anything? Bee, it means everything," you smiled at him. "I love you, so, when you make mistakes, I forgive you - even though there's nothing you've done. I mean," you winced slightly, "sure, maybe we could reduce the kids you bully or beat up, you know, limit the enemies we might make. And this is something that can be redeemed, can't it?"
He stared at you from the floor, slowly deflating, "Can it? I've fucked up so much, doll, I don't think I deserve whatever forgiveness you wanna give me."
"You can't keep beating yourself up," you snipped. "Hey? Hear me? Look, it happened - it fucking sucked, but it happened and it's fucking over. We both need one another to help move on, okay? So, I need you back, Bee, I need my man back because we need to get through this together. You don't get to sulk in your guilt, I don't get to stew in my regret, we need to help each other out of this."
Billy sniffled, "How? How do we move on when you've still got stitches in your lip?"
"They'll dissolve in a few days," you shrugged meekly. "We move on together, okay? Maybe you pick up basketball again, try to distract yourself. Billy, we need some normalcy again, right? You know?"
"Doll, being away from you makes me feel like my lungs are gonna pop," he shook his head. "I'm afraid something might happen if I'm not there, it's fucking scary after finding you in your own blood."
"Then I'll be at every practice," you eased. "You can drive me to and from school, then you know where I am - you'll know I'm safe."
Billy stared at you a moment, fully dropping to the floor as his energy finally drained. He ran a hand through his hair, rustling the curls, admitting in a soft voice, "I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to not feel so guilty, how to move forward."
"There's no playbook," you agreed. "Guess it means we gotta figure it out ourselves, but again, we do it together. C'mere," you sighed, lowering yourself to the floor with your booted ankle held out.
"No, don't - "
"Fuck off, I'm not totally unable to do shit," you grunted, adjusting yourself and reaching for him. "Come here, please, I wanna hold you! Been cuddling me this whole time, lemme be the big spoon, please."
"Just told me to fuck off, sweetheart, kinda sending some mixed signals, aren't'cha?" He chuckled, turning so his back was to your chest; leaning so you supported him in his slump. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart," he muttered, holding the arm around his collarbones. "I really - if I knew this was gonna happen, I'd never of fought them."
"I know, and I forgive you," you whispered in his ear. "But we can't keep doing this back and forth, okay? I forgive you, Billy, no more apologies."
He sighed, "Yeah... All right..."
"Steven and Jake are arrested, we won't have t'see them again. Hopper will make sure of that," you smirked against the shell of his ear. "And the doctors said I should be good to return to school next week, but I'm out of cheer and everything."
He groaned, "Just something else I've fucked up for you."
"Oh, please, I love the time off," you teased. "Gives me all the time I need to watch my man on the court, huh?" He half-chuckled at your words. "You know I'm ahead in all my classes now, too? Teaching myself at home is far superior than the teacher's bitching at us for eight hours."
"You're gonna love college, baby," he chuckled, the two of you lulling into a comfortable silence. You held him tightly, nuzzled into his neck; both sitting in your emotions, trying to navigate a way out.
"We good?" You whispered.
"We're good," Billy agreed, just as soft. "No more apologies... Try to have less guilt. But you're gonna let me stay close, right?"
"I want you clinging to me so hard, I can't fucking breathe," you smirked. "And if Daddy really asked you to stick around, then you're welcome to stay here longer, even if he's here... Where I can have you close to me," you whispered, licking the skin under his ear. He stiffened.
"No - you better not," he squirmed when you licked again, adding a little teeth in a scrape.
"Billy," you pouted. "It's been weeks!"
"You're still hurt," he argued, turning on the floor to look at you. "I'm not gonna be responsible for breaking another of your ribs 'cause we were horny."
"I'm doing so much better, though!"
"Tell you what," he smirked. "Next business trip of your dad's, I'll fuck you all weekend - wherever you want, however you want."
"He has one in two weeks."
"Mhm, and you have a check up before he leaves."
You eyed him for a moment, "When did you become responsible?"
"I've always been."
"No, this is new. You're remembering dates and my doctor appointments and my dad's work schedule."
"Maybe I just like taking care of you," he whispered against your lips with a growing smirk. After pecking you lips, he quipped, "So, shut up and let me."
"Yes, sir."
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requesting rules and masterlist
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show me | l. at
virgin!anton x fem. reader | 7.5k words
stop writing fics with mutual hopeless pining challenge FAILED.
contains: loss of virginity
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“are you going on a date next week?”
you tried to sound even as you asked the question. you hid behind your phone while you spoke, only turning your head to the side to see anton’s reaction. you swore you could feel him tense beside you on the bed before he went back to his phone, swiping away on some social media app as he nodded his head.
“i didn’t know you knew about that.” anton said simply.
you went back to your own phone, trying desperately to ignore the way your stomach dropped.
“your mom told me.” you responded.
you could hear anton sigh beside you, mentally cursing himself for trusting his mom with such personal information.
“we are going to go eat.” anton slid down his notification window on his phone, probably too see if his soon to be girlfriend had texted him “then we are going to watch a movie at her place.” he said.
knowing the details of the date made the pain significantly worse. it was already bad enough that you felt perpetually stuck in the friend zone with anton. the two of you were always like this—at one point in time all you wanted was to be his friend. but you grew up and so did he, and as your personalities began to differ you saw him as less of a friend and more as a partner. 
it didn’t help that skinship with anton never changed. you two would still hold hands like you did when you were kids, and you two laid in beds and sat so close together on couches that your thighs would touch. one day you saw it platonically and one day you did not. you felt your body become hot when anton would get too close, and you would hesitate for no reason. anton was oblivious to it all, so much so that he started letting himself be pursued by girls. you had no choice but to watch it happen, girls that didn’t pay attention to anton talked to him now couldn’t get enough of him. you sat quietly, forced to seem as neutral as possible when they would curiously ask you what anton’s type was. 
one girl was able to break through, giving anton his number and eventually asking him out on a date. this is what you gathered from his mother, atleast. she took you aside when you first came into their house, curiously asking you what you knew about a girl named belle. you remembered her, one of the more recent girls that tried for anton’s attention. you told her what you knew, that she was a girl who seemed nice. anton’s mother gave you a knowing smile as she told you anton had a date with her next week. she always had that smile on her face when she spoke to you now, especially when she caught you and anton sitting next to eachother on the couch when there was so much room left on the sofa.
you couldn’t hide your shock, quickly walking up to anton’s room as his mom was on her way out. something about running low on groceries and picking up anton’s brother from practice. everything was lost on you, the only thing occupying your mind was the thought of anton going on a date next week. 
you tried to keep it to yourself, atleast until anton decided to tell you himself. but as you laid next to anton on his bed watching him scroll wordlessly on his phone you felt the question bubbling in the back of your throat. when you saw a notification from her pop up on anton’s phone you couldn’t stop yourself from bringing it up.
“why didn’t you tell me?” you asked.
anton only shrugged, clearing the notification from the top of his phone before turning off his device. he let his phone rest on his chest as he covered his eyes, an awkward laugh coming from his lips. he took his hands away, not making eye contact with you as he confessed.
“i’m embarrassed.” anton said.
he was still laughing lightly, even as the tips of his ears turned red. you shook your head, propping yourself up from the bed to look down at him.
“you’re my bestfriend, anton.” you try not to focus too much on his lips or his eyes as you try to remain neutral. “you don’t have to be embarrassed to tell me anything.” you say.
anton props himself up on his elbows, his face coming closer to yours. he is significantly worse at remaining neutral. anton’s eyes immediately go to your glossy lips and stay there. he swears they sparkle in the light of his room, and our eyes stare back at him so intensely he can’t look at them for too long. 
too many times you have been stuck in this position with anton. you above him, your lips dangerously close to touching his. in times like this, almost always someone would interrupt this moment. whether it was his mom coming to tell you two food was ready, his brother barging into his room unannounced, sometimes even a notification on anton’s phone would bring you two back to the present. each time there was an outside force that would pull you two apart, acting as a buffer so you two could go back into your normal habits without mentioning what happened moments earlier. but now there was nothing to break the tension or to pull you two apart. it was only you, anton, an empty house, and unresolved feelings that existed in the space between your lips.
when you shifted on the bed and your hand got closer to anton’s body he couldn’t stop himself.
“i’ve never been with anyone before.” he rushed.
you blinked, pulling away from anton to sit up on the bed. you looked around the space of his room, until you circled back to him.
“is that why you’re nervous for your date? because you have no experience?” you asked.
the fog in anton’s mind almost made him ask you what date you were talking about. it wasn’t until anton’s phone rang from another texting notification that he remembered his obligation next weekend. maybe antoon was reading too much into the moment he shared with you, the shimmer on your lips distracted him. so anton nodded at your question, still feeling dizzy after being so close to kissing you. 
anton sits up on his bed, leaning against his headboard as he draws his knees to his chest. he focuses on his knees, a habitual shy smile across his face as he avoids your gaze.
“i’m not prepared at all, if we go further.” anton brings one hand to scratch at the nape of his neck. “if she has experience i’m screwed.” anton says.
he can only bring himself to look at you when he feels you look away again. you look past anton to stare at his window, deep in thought as his eyes roam your side profile. you look so pretty like this, he wishes he had the nerve to tell you. part of anton wants to reach out and caress your soft cheek, something he hadn’t been able to do in so long. he has to hold himself back when you turn your head to look at him again. 
“what about this.” anton sees the figurative bulb light up over your head as you shift on his bed. “what if i help you. like if i tell you what to do when you’re in that situation with her.” you say.
anton tilts his head when you paused before sayign her. the two of you have been going to school with anton’s future date for as long as he could remember. you knew belle’s name, you were her partner in a project together last week. why was belle suddenly her?
“what do you mean?” anton asked. 
anton sees you feign annoyance, how even you realize what you’re proposing is ridiculous. regardless, you lean forward and move in front of anton. your balled up fists hold you upright on his bed, dipping the mattress as you try to justify your reasoning.
“i want to help you not be embarrassed.” you lean back, sitting on the back of your legs as you gently smooth out anton’s sheets with your hands “so you can become confident in expressing your feelings.” you say.
what you say fully sinks in for anton. he feels heat blossom in his chest and spread across his body like a wildfire. he doesn’t know if there’s enough confidence in the world to help anton. he can’t even bring himself to confirm what you’re offering.
“do you mean—” he stutters.
“we can go as far as you’re comfortable with.” you put your hand over anton’s quickly as if you’re trying to compensate for coming on strong. “i don’t want you to mess it up with her.” you reason.
there’s that her again.
“with belle?” anton specifies.
you don’t say her name, only nod your head as you keep your hand on anton’s. he doesn’t know if he should believe you, the situation is too confusing for anton to navigate. you were unpredictable in this way, sometimes so non-assuming you didn’t know what you were hinting at. anton had to be direct, but he had to let his heart calm down first. his eyes went back to looking at your hand resting over his. you were squeezing him at first, but your grip loosened to the point that anton feared you were going to pull away. he had to keep you there, he had to keep feeling your soft hand on top of his.
“just a friend helping another friend out?” anton asks, looking up at you from your hand.
anton sees you hesitate before you nod.
“completely as friends.” you confirm.
anton nods his head, bringing his knees down to sit criss crossed on his bed. now that you two have agreed, neither of you knew how to proceed. it was almost awkward. you felt the urge to go back on your word.
“should we start with kissing?” anton asked.
you nodded your head, scooting closer to anton on the bed. he got closer too, you could see his chest raise and fall quickly as his hands moved towards you. anton talked himself out of touching you, his hands falling back onto the top of his mattress.
“you should touch her first.” you look down at anton’s hands, wishing they were on you instead. you bring wide eyes back to anton, trying to blink away how wet they already feel. “it’s hard but making the first move from the start matters.” you say.
anton nods, bringing his hands up to your shoulder. it’s awkward, you can tell he doesn’t know what he’s doing when he hesitates on where to put it. he squeezes gently and shakes you softly, smiling at you. you smile at him for a second before a shy laugh slips out. anton does the same, giggling as he brings his free hand to cover his toothy grin. 
“i don’t know if i know how to kiss.” anton giggles out truthfully.
you nod, and when your laughing subsides you bring anton’s hand from his mouth to rest on your cheek. instantly he’s caressing your skin, light as a feather as you fit into his hand perfectly.
“you can still bring her in.” anton begins pulling you in, his mouth slightly opening as his lips get closer to yours. before they can touch, you speak, desperate to cut through the tension. “let her guide you once you start and you’ll get the hang of it.” you say.
you look up to anton’s eyes one more time, and he nods again before going back to his previous position. he brings you in an you follow in closer, screwing your eyes shut your your lips finally touch. 
anton melds to you like it’s second nature. he follows the curves of your lips, and only stumbles for a second before following your lead perfectly. your hand finds its way to his hair, holding the soft strands for comfort. when you tilt your head anton follows, and when you move to the other side anton does the same. 
you go from pecks to lingering wet kisses. the sound of your lips parting fills the room, the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. it’s soft like anton’s hand on your cheek, how he got the courage to tilt your head up to his liking. you submit instantly, reveling in anton taking the reigns. it’s him who slips a tongue into your mouth first, and you let him explore your mouth. when his tongue presses against yours you do it back, swapping spit between eachothers mouths. 
you’re the one that has to pull away for air first. you almost stay there, intoxicated by the way anton sighs contently into you. but you feel your heart is about to explode. when you finally pull away you’re breathless, looking at your fast learner in awe. anton looks at you with wide eyes, running his tongue over his glossy lips to see if he can taste you again.
“you’re a natural.” you say breathlessly.
“thank you.” anton says back.
he’s just as rattled as you, his mussed hair reflecting his scrambled mind. anton pulls you back in with both hands while you still try catching your breath, placing one last wet kiss on your lips. your hands go to his shoulders and stay there even when he pulls apart from you.
you two still hold eachother, huffing in air like you both just ran a mile. anton comes back first, eyes determined as he takes his hands away from your face.
“what’s next?” anton asks.
you have to sit there and think, not because you don’t know what comes after passionate makeout sessions. you have to gather your thoughts, thinking how you can be normal about your friendship with anton if the two of you go any further. you decide that’s something for later when anton puts his hands on your legs and gives you a look that has your heart leaping in your chest.
“she might only let you finger her since it’s the first date.” you start reaching for your pants. “you have really nice hands so that’s a plus. definitely play into that.”
you wanted to cringe at how you sounded, saying something so lewd so casually. anton was all ears though, not teasing you for the compliment you have wanted to tell him a million times before. his phone was long discarded as he sat up on his bed in front of you. he had his fisted hands pressed into the mattress beside him, flexing his fist as he listened to what you were saying. he nodded at everythin, eyes focused on new parts of your body that were exposed as you got yourself undressed. first it was your thighs and then your calfs as you struggled to take your pants off.
anton was too shy to offer his help, but something inside of him liked seeing you struggle and liked seeing you get undressed for him. before you could expose your stomach, you paused. anton’s eyes went from your thighs and how they were pressed together to your face.
“this is a disclaimer, before we go any further.” anton clenched his fist again when you let go of your shirt, letting it drape down your body again. “she might want you to do things a different way. not all girls are the same.” you say matter-of-factly.
“just show me what you like.” when your eyes got wide anton quickly defended himself. “i can figure out the rest with her when the time comes.”
you nodded your head, agreeing with his reasoning. you and anton sat like that for a minute in complete silence while you gathered your thoughts. anton was patient and he was obedient, giving you his hand instantly when you reached out for it.
you brought his hand to your face, using your own hands to bring his ring and pinky finger to his palm. when only antons thumb, index finger, and middle finger were left you guided his hand to rest on your lips. you slowly opened your mouth and anton understood, shivering while he pushed his fingers past your plush lips.
when his fingers were inside of your mouth he left them rest on top of your tongue. you nodded approvingly, and anton nodded back as he let his thumb rest underneath your chin. he took charge slightly, pumping his fingers in and out of your mouth as you hollowed your cheeks.
what you truly wanted anton to do was stick his fingers so far into your mouth that you gagged on them. but you settled for his large fingers pressing lightly on your tongue. you could see his mouth fall open as you made a show of sucking on him.
“okay now pull them out” you mumbled around his fingers.
anton nodded his head, but before he pulled out his fingers out he brought your chin forward with his thumb, eyes focused on his fingers as he stuck them further into your mouth. the entranced look in anton’s eyes distracted you, and before you could prepare yourself his fingers went too far. you gagged pathetically when anton’s fingers went past your tongue.
anton’s gaze went from his fingers in your mouth to your eyes. he had a look you had never seen, so different from the your shy bestfriend. he kept them there for a beat too short, before you could ease your throat to stop your eyes from getting glossy anton withdrew his fingers slowly. when he saw your eyes get glossy he pulled them out slowly. both of you looked at the the string of spit that connected your lip to his fingers.
“sorry” anton said sheepishly.
as fast as you saw the look in anton’s eyes it was gone, replaced with the same shy expression you were used to seeing. he kept his two fingers together in the air, waiting for your next instructions. you look down at your legs, how they pressed together. the image of anton prying them apart while he had that look in his eyes flashed across your mind. you closed your eyes before looking back up at anton with a thinking look. anton shifted on the bed as you leaned back, following your movements until you moved your legs from underneath you. 
when your legs were bent in front of you, anton stayed still. his wet fingers were still in the air, drying from the cool air in his room. you smiled before reaching forward and grabbing his hand, putting it on your knee.
“make sure you always ask if everything is okay, especially if it’s the first time.” you say.
you start applying light pressure to anton’s hand on your knee, showing him to lightly spread your legs apart. he understands immediately, bringing his other hand to your other knee to part them.
“is this okay?” anton asks.
it’s genuine, the way he looks at you with big eyes. you wordlessly nod your head, leaning back to prop yourself on your hands while anton continues spreading you apart.
when you add resistance against anton’s push, he stops completely. you can see him remembering the distance between your parted knees. she is so lucky.
when a sigh slips from your lips anton’s gaze snaps up to you. you play it off well, moving your shoulders slightly to feign contemplation. before anton can ask you what next, you point your feet.
“help me take my underwear off.” you say.
any attempt to sound bossy is hindered by the hush in your voice. you’re being too soft but you can’t help it. you’re lucky anton is too focused on getting you undressed he doesn’t notice the way you bite at your lip nervously.
anton’s hands are timid as his fingers go underneath your waistband. he thinks it would be easier if he approached the situation like ripping off a bandaid, but it’s slow as he pulls your panties up to your thighs and down your knee. your pointed feet helps anton in the end, he leaves the pair next to him on the bed, dropped gently from his hand.
anton sees the first definite crack in your composure when he can’t take his eyes away from your core. you glisten and seize around nothing. the pornos he’s watched and the stories he’s heard falls short—nothing can compare to you.
“wow.” anton sighs.
your knees wobble as you try to close them in subconsciously. anton keeps them apart, slotting himself between your legs to stop them from closing completely he will fight anything that tries to obstruct his view of you. anton looks down at you to watch you change your pleased expression a beat to late.
“flattery will get you very far, anton.” you say.
you try to be sarcastic, but anton is serious as he shakes his head. one of his hands leaves your knee to press on your pearl that protrudes at the top of your cunt. you jolt from the feeling, fists balling the sheets. maybe the pornos got some things right. anton looks at your face, watching more and more of your resolve crumbles in from of him. you are stubborn, clearing your throat to try and bring back some volume to your voice.
“i’m wet already. feel it.” you say.
anton’s finger that presses your pearl drifts down. he can feel you wet and slick against his fingers. he pulls his hand away from you and rubs it between his thumb and index finger.
“that’s how you know you’re doing something atleast a little right.” you shift your hips closer to anton, inviting him to touch you some more. anton went back to touching your folds, pressing in slightly. you could tell he was looking for your hole, and you let him find on his own. you shivered as anton got closer and closer, going further down your cunt. when he found he he pressed in slightly. you showed him he was right by sighing and arching your back.
“it’s lower than i thought.” anton laughed quietly to himself.
“yeah.” you said breathlessly.
you were caught up in the feeling of anton’s probing fingers so close to being fully inside of you. you almost forgot you had a job to do as anton’s bestfriend.
“start off with just one finger. your hands are big.” you say.
anton pushes in a finger, looking up at you as he eases in. you clamp around his fingers before relaxing, allowing him to go all the way inside of you. anton pulls his finger out before pushing it back in, watching the way his digit disappears inside of you.
“holy shit.” anton whispers.
you clench around his finger, before telling him to put another finger in. anton heeds your request, adding his middle finger to sink into your cunt. you can’t stop your hand from grabbing his bicep. anton stops, and you guide him to a faster pace. 
your hold on anton’s bicep doesn’t falter as he picks up the speed. when he takes it upon himself to face his palm upwards the discomfort in his wrist is gone immediately. his fingers can fuck you smoothly when he faces his palm upwards. the confidence anton gets when you close your eyes and turn your head to your shoulder makes him add another finger. he can hear your toes crack as you flex your feet, and anton sees your free hand ball up in the sheets.
“do this with your other hand if you can.” 
the words fly out of your mouth at your hand on anton’s bicep goes to your clit. you show anton the speed you like immediately, touching the pearl gently in comparison to anton’s hasty pumping fingers. his free hand goes to your hand, mimicking the movements. when you’re satisfied you move your hand away, letting anton take your place. he falters for a little bit, trying to synchronize his pumping fingers to his gentle hand on your clit. soon enough he can feel you squeezing tightly against his fingers, and your eyes are screwed shut.
“i’m so close.” you say around the teeth digging into your lip.
anton nods, wishing he was good enough at multitasking to kiss your turned cheek. instead anton only nods, sitting down on his bed to get a better angle.
without his body between your legs, your knees close in on eachother. it’s pathetic, the way you whimper and withhold moans as you come undone around anton’s fingers. you’re so quiet he doesn’t know you came. so anton continues, waiting for you to call out his name and announce to him how good he’s making you feel. anton doesn’t know you came until near cries come out, and your hands go to his wrists to stop him. anton looks at you confused, until he sees the tears dotting your vision again and your shaking shoulders. anton experimentally presses a finger harshly to your clit, you jolt and whimper again.
“sorry.” anton says unapologetically.
you fall onto your back, looking up at anton’s ceiling fan. it’s completely turned off, you imagine the blades are spinning to try and occupy your mind. your knees are still closed on eachother and you tremble occasionally. you put all your brainpower into the nonmoving blades to distract yourself from anton’s hands on your thighs that spread you further apart. you can feel yourself clenching around nothing. when his breath fans your center you shiver, still dealing with the after effects of your orgasm. when anton comes so close that his nose pokes your fold you pinch the covers on his bed between your two fingers.
“what should i do?” anton asks.
even if you are not looking at anton, you can tell he’s not all the way there with you. you can feel his eyes boring into your heat, you can almost hear him bringing in your smell. you have to clear your own thoughts to focus getting words out from your dry throat.
“you have to tease first.” you swallow on nothing. “to like build the tension, ya know?”
you don’t know when you’ll drop the act of trying to remain nonchalant. hiding your moans requires self control you don’t have anymore. when anton presses a kiss to your thigh you let him hear the sighs you tried so hard to suppress. anton smiles against your skin when he kisses the other side.
“how should i eat you out?” anton asks.
you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at anton. he’s curious, eyes filled with you as he presses a kiss closer to your cunt. you bring your your legs to rest on his shoulders.
“pretending like you’re making out with me.” you whimper.
anton’s eyes widen at your desperate voice. you can’t bring yourself to care anymore, you can’t hold back when anton keeps eye contact with you as his tongue gets closer and closer to your heat. he looks down at your pussy like it’s his next meal, latching his lips to your clit and sucking. 
instantly your back is pressed into the mattress again, squirming as you try to stop yourself from thrusting into anton’s mouth. he’s a step ahead, putting hands underneath your ass to prop your lower half up. he goes into his own groove, letting his tongue occasionally poke past your hole to taste you. when anton compares your noises, he finds himself driven to continue sucking on your clit. he knows he made the right decision when he hears your moan rip through his room for the first time. he looks up to your with satisfaction, when he starts using his fingers to fuck you again your hand grips his hair tightly.
“are you sure you’re a virgin?” you ask genuinely.
when anton’s laugh vibrates against you, you dig your back into the mattress. you pathetically lift your suspended hips into anton’s mouth. you feel euphoria building over you again, and you push antons face back from your pussy with a hand to his forehead.
anton looks at you like a man starved before licking his lips.
“is everything okay?” anton asks.
you nod, a hand going to your face as you wipe sweat away. you close your eyes to save yourself from the stimulation, remaining quiet until your foggy mind can form full sentences again. you sit up fully on the bed and anton’s meets you, bringing you in to kiss him again. you can taste yourself on his lips, and you can feel his wet fingers touch your face. when you pull away you still keep your lips against his.
“do you want to wait until next week—” you look at anton unsure, feeling his hot cheeks underneath the pads of your fingers. you don’t want to assume his feelings for you, or take something he might’ve been saving for someone that isn’t his bestfriend. “do you want to wait until next week to go all the way?” you ask
anton shakes his head, both of his hands going to the side of your head to force eye contact. you look him in the eyes before he brings you in for another big kiss. 
“i think i found the confidence to tell you how i feel now.” anton says.
“i’ve wanted you for so long.” you say.
anton nods his head, telling you he’s felt the same way.
“we are a mess.” anton says laughing.
you laugh with him again, your head going to anton’s shoulder as you recall all the moments you both chose to ignore. the fleeting looks, the accidental touches, the almost kisses. it’s almost embarrassing that it took you guys this long to come to terms and to confess, under these circumstances nonetheless. it would’ve been embarrassing if it wasn’t so funny. 
anton pulls you from his shoulder and kisses your forehead again, and you grab his face to kiss his forehead back. anton smiles and pecks your lips.
“i’m ready.” anton says.
you nod your head, trying to sound as assertive as possible.
“the guy should always bring a condom.” you say it matter-of-factly, holding up a finger like it’s a fact.
anton laughs at you again, before reaching to his drawer. he pulls out an unopened box of condoms, mouth opening getting ready to ask anton a question.
“my dad.” when your eyes widen anton only shakes his head. “don’t ask. please don’t ask.” he says.
you nod your head, grabbing the box from anton to open it. you pull out the first one, tearing it from the foil like and the opening the package. anton watches you pull out the rubber, small in your hand. you look at anton, still clothed, clad in tight jeans that strain against his dick and a shirt that is too hot on him. as if on cue he stumbles over the edge of the bed, taking off his pants and shirt leaving him in his briefs.
when he gets on the bed in the same position, you still hold the condom in your hand. you look at anton twitching in his boxers. you resist the urge to pounce on him when you see the wet patch in his underwear.
“can i see it?” you don’t hide the desperate lift in your voice. anton is nervous, hands pressed flat to his thighs in efforts to wipe off the sweat. “please?” you beg.
anton nods, leaning back on the bed the same way you did when he took your underwear off. you lean forward on the bed, handing the condom to anton and you gently pull his waistband down his legs. you imagine anton wanted to be treated the same way he treated you, slow and gentle like you’re made of glass. by the time his underwear is off his face is red in splotches, the tips of his ears hot to the touch. you would’ve seen anton’s face get more red by the second if you weren’t staring at his dick, it was thick, shooting straight up without the confinements of his briefs. his tip was pink and soft like his lips, and beading endless with precum. the translucent pearls made his dick look like porcelain. you smile at anton before sticking touching his leaking tip gently. 
“so pretty.” you coo.
anton shakes his head, his large hand clasping around your wrist when you tried pumping his dick. his sensitivity went without saying, and you didn’t want to waste it either. you tapped on anton’s wrist to make him open his eyes, pointing to the condom in his clenched hand when he looked at you.
“sorry.” anton said. 
“don’t apologize.” you pinch the tip of the condom, sliding the band down until anton’s dick is covered completely. “you don’t have to apologize to me.”
anton hisses, bucking his hips up when you experimentally squeeze his length.
“and why is that?” anton asks.
“i’m your bestfriend.” you say casually.
when friend falls from your lips anton scoffs and shakes his head. he checks to see if the condom is on securely, touching his length to see what contact feels like.
“think we are a little more than that now.” anton says under his breath. 
you coo at him, pinching his cheeks before letting your hands explore the rest of his body. when you reach anton’s shoulders you gently tug at him, bringing him to you. you let yourself lean back on anton’s bed again as you continue pulling him by his shoulders. when your back is against the sheets anton is hovering over you, and he’s so close that his hair touches your face. he moves a hand to plant into the mattress beside your head to hold himself upright. his other hand grips your hip, a hold so tight like anton thinks you’ll slip away. you’re the same, a white knuckle grip on his shoulders. 
you look up at anton, and he swears he sees your eyes soften. they’re gentle and welcoming, like your pupils have become heart shaped. anton uses his hand planted into the mattress to move some hair from your face. you pucker your lips and make a kissing sound, signaling to anton to press his lips against yours. when he pulls back you take a hand from his shoulder and trail it down his body. you look at him with each inch you cover. when anton bites his lip you hesitate, worried that he might suddenly decide he’s not ready. but anton hangs his head low to look between your two bodies, how close your hand is to grabbing his dick again.
he whimpers and instantly goes to the crook of your neck, his sheets balling up in his clenched fists. you pump his dick a few times, wishing to yourself that a condom wasn’t separating the two of you. there will be plenty of time for that later you have to tell yourself. you focus instead on anton, how he hopelessly sucks on the skin of your neck as you jerk him off.
“i really won’t last long.” anton says.
his words are hushed and fan across your skin in warm huffs. you nod, moving your other hand to the back of anton’s head.
“it’s okay.” you continue jerking anton off until he lets out a shaky exhale. you stop pumping, pulling his head from the crook of your neck so you can look at him. “can you help me?” you ask sweetly.
instantly anton nods his head.
“what do you need me to do?” anton asks.
for a moment he thinks he might be crushing you underneath his body weight. before he can pull back your hand that moved to his shoulder blades keeps him in pace. you’re sheepish, the hand that was on anton’s dick goes to his hand that’s on your hip. you wrap your hands around his pinky finger, holding tight as you tug at his hand slightly.
“let’s put it in together.” you say.
anton swallows, both of your hands are slow going back to his dick. the anticipation has you both ready to leap out of your skin, and when you put your hands to anton both of you gasp. it’s a new feeling, your hand over anton’s as he guides his tip to your cunt. you already feel your hole fluttering around nothing, pulsing like a heartbeat. anton has to take his hand away when he gets too close, instead propping his elbow beside your head so he can hover above you. 
his lips are already parted, and you see the glossy look in his eyes as you pump his length a few more times.
“are you ready?“ you ask.
you feel nearly out of breath yourself. when you move lower down on the bed anton’s tip prods your entrance, almost inside of you.
“i’m ready.” anton says.
you almost close your eyes when you feel anton push his hips against yours—the only thing that keeps them open is so your can look at anton above you. his eyes shut in euphoria as he pushes deeper into you. you don’t tell anton to stop while taking all of him, you revel in the stretch and the way his eyebrows furrow and his lips part even more. a whimper slips past anton’s lips and he lets his head hand when he’s all the way in. he whimpers again when you seize around him, and a big hand squeezes on your waist.
“so big.” you whisper to anton.
he stays like that above you for awhile, falling victim to your warm wet fluttering walls and your sweet voice. his grip on your waist is rough but it the only thing keeping him grounded. anton twitches inside of you and he clenches the first next to your head. each attempt to move fails, it’s almost like you’re pulling him back in.
“can i move?” anton asks.
when he lifts his head back up, he sees you wide eyed nodding vigorously. you lift your own hips slightly, giving anton room to pull back to meet you again. he draws a shaky breath as he feels his dick dragging out of you. when he slides back in slowly anton’s head goes to the crook of your neck. your hand goes to anton’s back, pressing gently to bring him closer.
“what does it feel like?” you draw your hips back and forth, giving anton shallow thrusts. 
“warm and wet.” anton’s voice shakes as he slowly starts thrusting into you. “like a really nice hug.” he says.
you hum at anton’s observation, desperate to know what it feels like to him. you want to tell anton how good he’s being, how he fits perfectly inside of you and makes you feel full. but this is about anton, you have plenty of time to tell him how he makes you feel later.
you wedge your hand between your bodies and press on your stomach, letting out a sigh when you feel your stomach tighten. anton keeps the slow deep thrusts, panting into the crook of your neck. when he snaps his hips a particular way, an unexpected choked whine slips past your lips. anton pulls away from your skin looking down at you.
anton’s blown out eyes look down at you. you can already see his face becoming red and splotchy as he takes you in. he looks at your lips, where a sound he’s never heard before came from and to your eyes that were wet just like his. the previous accidental thrust becomes purposeful, anton snaps his hips the same way he did before while looking at your face. the sound falls from you again, and you have to fight to keep your eyes open. anton does it again, and you can see his hair and the apples of his cheeks move from the force. the fourth time anton snaps his hips harder, and your back arches off the bed.
“so big.” you say into anton’s ear. 
you press your hand deeper into your stomach, ad anton presses his forehead to yours to look down between your two bodies. he looks only for a second before his hooded eyes go back to yours.
his mouth opens as he looks down at you, words caught in his throat as he focuses on thrusting inside of you. but you already know what he’s going to ask. you press your hand deeper into your stomach while nodding your head.
“so deep.” you whine.
anton’s parted lips turn into a smile, a quick smirk that reveals his perfect teeth. you only see it for a second before anton goes back to feeling weak. anton switches his snapping hips to something more languid, trading the harsh slapping for the smooth and wet sound you two make together. 
anton’s hair is wet with sweat as you fist it, pulling it away from his face so you can see all of him. you keep his head against yours, pressing gentle kisses to his plush lips.
“you feel so good inside of me, anton.” you tell him.
he can only nod quickly, drops of sweat falling onto you as he picks up the pace. your hand that pressed into your stomach moves to your clit. when you touch the bundle of nerves the moans fall from your lips, moving anton to do the same thing. his sounds are airy gasps, almost crying while yours become pouty.
the two of you no longer speak while you chase your instincts. anton’s languid thrusts turn to rutting hips, and all your reservations flies out the window as you bring your knee to your chest. anton’s hand on your hip helps you, applying force to the back of your thigh to press it closer. the new angle makes anton fuck you deeper and harder, you give up circling your clit to put both hands on anton for stability. he lifts his body from yours slightly, looking down at all of you. when you feel his eyes drift down from your face to your chest, you arch your back to come closer to his mouth. anton gives you a quick look of uncertainty and you soften your features to show him how desperate you feel, how close you are. you don’t get the chance to beg for something more when anton bends his body to attach his lips to your nipple.
you’re quick reacting to anton wet tongue that laves your senstive skin. you’re propping yourself up on one of your elbows in a second, forcing your hand to grip anton’s sheets to find stability. you arch your back and fist anton’s hair, the stimulation from his rutting hips and teeth grazing your sensitive skin makes you pull his hair at the root.
“i’m so close.” you whimper.
you look down at anton, how he is so content sucking on your chest. when he looks up at you with little hearts swimming around in his big brown eyes you let your head lean back. 
it’s too fast, you can’t announce you’re cumming before it hits you in full force. your leg twitches as anton’s grip on your thigh tightens, pushing you further to open you up more. he hits deep, and your cries bounce off the walls in his room. you are nearly crying when anton stills inside of you—he didn’t get the chance to warn you either. one moment he had control the next he didn’t, emptying into the condom as your name falls from his parted lips in pants and high-pitched whines. anton has to screw his eyes shut from the relief that takes over his body, and when he finally comes down he slumps against your body completely.
you let anton crush you, loving the feeling of his sweaty body pressing into yours. you can still feel him twitching inside of you and you can still feel your walls flutter around him. 
neither of you move until you hear the front door open and anton’s mom call you both down to help bring the groceries inside. the two of you were so caught up in your own world you forgot other people existed. you nearly kicked anton off of you, pushing him backwards so you could put your clothes back on. anton’s door was left open, and you could hear his brother making his way up the stairs. the two of you rushed trying to become decent. you threw on anton’s shirt and almost put your jeans on backwards. anton ended up grabbing a completely new outfit, tripping over his feet as he put his shorts on.
the steps were getting closer to anton’s room when you guys started to desperately smooth out eachother’s features, trying to lay anton’s hair down straight while anton time making his shirt on you not look like his shirt.
his brother did a once over of you and anton, standing in the middle of his room looking frazzled. he decided he didn’t care, walking out of sight as he went into his room.
“mom said to come downstairs.” he said over his shoulder.
“okay.” when anton’s voice sounded too hoarse he cleared his throat. “be down there in a second.” anton said.
572 notes · View notes
leossmoonn · 1 year
Text
Muse
masterlist
pairing - xavier thorpe x fem!reader
type - smut, 16+
note - i haven’t even seen the show yet but I’ve consumed so much xavier content I feel like I can write a smut fic abt him 😅😅
summary - you wake up to xavier drawing you, leading to something more
warnings / includes - language, oral (f receiving), soft dom!xavier, some body worship, insecurity mentions, thigh riding if you squint. lowk i have no idea if the reader is allowed to sleep in xavier’s room but for this fic she is 🤫🤫🤫
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*gif isn’t mine*
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“No, this isn’t right. Almost… no. Is her nose rounder or more pointy?”
You toss and turn as you hear your boyfriend’s mumbling.
“Oh, great, she moved,” you hear him sigh.
Your eyes flutter open, sleep weighing them down. You slowly reach your hands out from the warm blankets, rubbing your eyes before stretching. Your back pops and ankles crack as you extend your body over the bed, catching Xavier’s attention.
“Did I wake you?” he asks, worry evident in his voice.
“No, I was already waking up,” you shake your head. “But did I mess up your drawing?”
A light chuckle echos in his room. “No, you didn’t.”
“Oh, really? Because I heard you having some trouble finding out what shape my nose is. From how much you stare at my face, I would’ve assumed that you would know it by heart now,” you tease him, smiling as you stretch once more.
“You’re already so perfect in real life, I wanted to capture that in my drawing,” he states.
You let out a breathy laugh as you smile. You peek open your eyes to peer at him, seeing as his hair is pulled back into a half-pony tail. “You know the way to a girl’s heart, Xavier.”
“You know I try my best,” he quips. You close your eyes, turning onto your left side and cuddle the pillow. You hear Xavier move to the other side of the bed, sitting down beside your legs.
“Trying to get the right angle?” you hum. “Yep. Would you like to see what I have so far?” he asks.
“Sure,” you say, forcing your eyes to open. You sit up on your elbows, jaw becoming slack as you look at his drawing. “Xavi, this looks nothing like me.”
He furrows his brows. “What do you mean?”
“You must be drawing your other, more pretty girlfriend,” you snort, laying back down with a thump.
Xavier rolls his eyes. “Oh, come on. You know you’re gorgeous.”
“Not when I’ve just woken up,” you scoff.
He sets his drawing down on his desk, walking back to his bed. He sits down closer to your head, cupping your cheek. His thumb gently moves your face out from the pillows. You nuzzle into his warm touch, glancing up at him.
“You are so wrong, Y/n,” he says softly.
Your ears suddenly feel warm and you shy away, sinking into the bed. “You’re only saying that because I’m your girlfriend.”
“You have no idea how much I talked about you before we started dating,” he chuckles. “Enid and Ajax couldn’t stand being around me.”
You smile a little. “Oh, really?”
“Yep,” he grins. “Well, what did you tell them?” you inquire. “And make sure to tell me in full detail.”
“I’ll try. We wouldn’t want you to get a big head now, would we?” he teases.
You let out an exasperated sigh. “Get on with it.”
He smiles and leans in, his lips inches apart from yours. “For starters, I would say how pretty your eyes are and how cute your smile is. And I would compliment your makeup and how skillful and creative you are with it. How amusing it was to see that little smirk you get after correcting someone in class. I would say how nice your voice was to listen to, and how intimidating you seemed,” he explains.
“How am I intimidating?” you ask, a little smirk on your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” he remarks.
His other hand sneaks underneath his blankets, finding your bare thigh. You suck in a breath, watching his face in anticipation.
“I also used to say how great you looked in a button down.” his hand skims up higher, the pads of his fingers ghosting over your panties. “I would comment on your skirts nicely frame your ass. How sexy you look in your stockings.”
He presses his first finger over your clothed clit. You let out a little gasp, trying to regain your composure.
“You would say that to Enid and Ajax?” you raise your brow.
He shrugs lightly. “I said those things to myself instead.”
You hum in reply. “Anything else?”
“Just how you are the most beautiful, intelligent, creative, strong person I know,” he grins. You can’t help but smile with him as you see the outer corners of his eyes crinkle.
“You are so sweet, Xavi. Thank you for saying all those nice things about me.”
“Would you be open to me showing them to you?” he asks, his voice now low. He stares deeply into your eyes, making your heart drop to your feet.
“How would you do that?” you ask, playing dumb.
He doesn’t answer. He closes the gap between you two, kissing you softly. You pull your arms out from under the covers, reaching for his shoulders and neck. Your right hand cups the nape of his neck, your left hand burying your fingers into his soft and tangled hair. You sit up without breaking the kiss, you press your chest up against his. His hands grip your waist, fingertips sliding under his shirt that you’re wearing.
One of your hands drop to his thigh, reaching for his pants. He pulls away quickly, grabbing your hand and holding it away from him.
“Don’t even think about it,” he says. You frown in confusion, “why?”
“Lay down,” he commands. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly feel obligated to do anything he says.
You lay back down, watching as Xavier slips under the covers. He towers over you, one hand resting by your head while the other is playing with the bottom of your shirt.
“I told you I was gonna show you, didn’t I?” he asks.
You smile widely, nodding excitedly. “You indeed did.”
“Don’t worry about me then. This morning is about you,” he says.
“Luckily me,” you hum.
He shakes his head. “Lucky me.” he dives down and kisses you again, his warm hand slithering up your shirt. The pads of his fingers skim over your hardened nipple. You sigh in reply, eyes fluttering close as his kisses reach your neck. He sucks a bruise right below your ear.
“Mm, I better not have to cover this up with makeup,” you say.
“No promises,” he whispers, irrupting butterflies in your tummy. He lifts your shift up and you lift your arms up, helping him slip it off. He takes a look at your almost-naked figure. Your red panties are still on, hugging your hips perfectly. He sucks in a breath and smiles, something he does every time he sees a part of you, or all of you. He never fails to do it, and it never fails to make you feel special.
“Lucky me,” he mumbles to himself, taking in your beauty.
“Xavier,” you whine. Although you love the attention, you’re a little too horny than you’d care to admit. You need him.
“What, pretty girl?” he asks, his eyes flipping to yours. “Don’t just sit there. Do something,” you answer.
He chuckles, “you are so needy in the morning, you know that?”
You shrug, “you’re fault.” “Oh, is that so?” he cocks his right brow.
You grab his hand that’s on your boob, bringing it down to your panties so he can feel the small wet patch. His dick strains against his pajama pants.
“See? You’re fault,” you say. “I feel so bad,” he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Guess I should do something about it.”
You roll your eyes as he keeps playing games. If he didn’t love seeing you struggle and beg, he would already have his head between your thighs. But seeing you whine and huff is equally as rewarding than making you come.
“Please, Xavier. We don’t have long until we have to go to class,” you beg, pulling at his shirt.
“Well, since you said please,” he hums. He brings his head down to your boobs, putting his mouth on one as his hand encompasses the other. You sigh lightly, resting your hands on his shoulders. His tongue flicks your nipple, rolling the other between his thumb and third finger.
Need grows in your tummy. You buck your hips up, meeting his thigh that’s between your legs. Your voice shakes as moan, lifting your hips up again. Your clit rubs against his thigh, almost giving you the satisfaction you crave.
“So needy,” Xavier mumbles against your skin.
You reply by grabbing at his shirt, your fingers hooking around the waistband of his pants. “Want you, Xavier. Need you,” you breathe out.
You watch as his cheeks become rosy. You smile to yourself, your hands slithering under his shirt and running over his chest.
He begins to kiss down your chest, not being able to take it anymore. If there’s one thing he wants most in this moment, it would be to make you shake and scream him name.
“You are so perfect,” he hums against your skin. He places passionate but feverish kisses across your body, hands grabbing at your thighs and ass. You look down at him, not being able to contain a smile as he covers your whole body with his love. He kisses your hip, sucking softly on the skin near your pussy. He’s so close, you can almost feel his tongue on your clit.
You push your hips up to his face, his nose bumping into your thigh.
“Patience, princess,” he mumbles, his hot breath fanning over your skin. Your underwear dampens and he chuckled as the wet spot grows darker. He hooks his fingers onto your underwear, pulling them off painfully slow. It feels like a million years as you watch him drag them down to your feet. He discards them onto the floor, settling himself between your thighs.
He starts to nibble on the inner corner of your legs. You huff impatiently, tangling your fingers in his hair and trying to move him to where you want him. But he’s stronger than you. One of his hands takes yours, pinning it to the bed. Wet kisses line your legs. He sucks down on one of the most sensitive parts of your inner thighs, making you jolt.
“Please, Xavier. Please,” you gasp. “Please what, pretty?” he asks, his eyes meeting yours.
You groan internally. He looks so sexy between your thighs. Those big, innocent green eyes staring up at you. His pupils are blown and you can see your own reflection.
“If you don’t tell me what you want, I can’t give it to you,” he hums.
“Eat me out, please,” you moan pathetically. You feel his cheekbones raise against your skin as he smiles.
You watch as his mouth attaches to your clit. Your head lulls back in relief and pleasure. You feel his tongue flick your clit, rubbing circles against the throbbing bud. He brings his mouth down to your slit, slipping his tongue into your hole. He swirls his tongue, shaking his head from side to side.
His tongue lips a stripe up your pussy and lands back onto your clit. He sucks softly but firmly, taking the hand that isn’t holding yours and slowly inserting two fingers into your pussy. Your lips gush liquids, making a little puddle on his bedsheets. He begins to move his fingers inside of you, his tongue lapping around your clit.
“Fuu-uck, Xavier. Just like that, yeah, ju-just like that,” you praise, your hand gripping his hair. His pony tail falls out from your fingers and moving his head. His hair falls onto your skin, tickling you slightly.
You let out a breathy giggle. It gets swallowed up by a moan as he adds another finger. You spread your thighs, your muscles clenching his fingers. Your moans get louder, egging Xavier on. His lips suck on your skin as his tongue licks up and down your clit. His fingers move inside of you faster, more of your juices spilling out around his fingers. The only sounds in the room are your moans, your pussy, and his panting.
“Xavier, baby. I-I’m close,” you stammer. Your thighs enclose around his face. You begin to ride his tongue, your nails digging into the back of his neck. He lets go of your hand that he’s holding, gripping onto your thigh. He holds your leg close to his cheek, wanting - no needing - to be engulfed by your scent and taste. His fingers dig into your skin as his hand that’s fingering you begins to move faster.
“Ah, ah, ah!” you pant, your chest puffing up and down. Your tummy tightens and you feel like your bladders about to let lose. Your body comes to a stop, all the muscles in your body tightening. You come so hard, the hand that’s on his bed almost rips the sheets off.
He watches your face as you unravel, feeling his own underwear become wet with pre-cum. You’re so beautiful. The way your head is titled back, your mouth wide open. He loves the way your eyes are screwed shut in pleasure. He can’t help but smile, not being able to stop admiring you.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you ramble. He slows his movements, stopping his fingers but keeping his tongue moving.
“Ohmygod, fuck. Xavier, please,” you begin to pull away from him, the stimulation almost painful.
He stops, sitting up on his knees. He sucks his fingers dry, running his other hand through his hair. He looks down at the puddle you made, a prideful smirk taking over his features.
“Someone was really wet,” he says. “Your fault,” you say.
“I guess it was,” he chuckles. He dives his head back down, kissing your calves all the way up to your face. You bask in his love, your body tingling in each place he kisses. He holds your sides gently, his hands snaking to the small of your back. He kisses you sweetly. You can taste yourself, your tongue running across his bottom lip to capture the tanginess.
“That feel good, gorgeous?” he asks against your lips. “So good,” you breathe out.
“I think we should start every morning off like that, yeah?” he suggests
“I’ll be exhausted every day, then,” you chuckle. He shrugs, one of his hands moving to the underside of your boob. “As long as you’re exhausted from me.”
“Oh, shut up,” you snort, rolling your eyes and pushing him away lightly.
“You would love that, too,” he smirks.
You shake your head with a big smile on your face. “You wish.”
————
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@murdockcastleslut
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Adam hcs but the third time IS the charm
The moment his girlfriend heard about what happened to his past wives she vowed that she'll be the best lover for him, and she delivered
Please, give this man a happy ending because I need to see him happy
JSD;GDZF i wanted to do this sooo badly when i was writing the harlot reader HC's AND NOW I CAN RAHHHH fr tho the amount of soft adam ask are seriously making me giggle and spin around my room plz keep sending them. If you haven't read it, ask is referecing this post
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You and only you | Adam x Fem!Reader
Relationship: Romantic Warnings: NONE ADAM JUST ADAM AND HIS LOVELY GF (you)
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You didn’t know why Adam was so clingy. From the moment you woke up, Adam was around you. 
Not that you didn’t enjoy his attention, you relished it. However, he was ever clingy, and hovering over you. It was beginning to get overstimulating for you.
It took you to the point of almost snapping and asking him what his deal was. Instead, you took a second to calm down and talk to him. It didn’t take long for you to get your answer.
“Adam, please. I just need a moment.” You say, rubbing your temple with a hand as you push your boyfriend off of you with the other. He whines and pouts as he moves across the room, no longer near you. It took you a bit to realize that he was in the corner, only realizing it when you heard a sniffle. You look at him, concerned. “Baby? What’s wrong?”
You make your way to your boyfriend and bend down to the floor. You try to peek at his face, but he turns away. You notice that he used his hand to wipe something on his face and put your hand on him to comfort him. He doesn’t say anything, as he begins to cry a little more audibly now. Alarmed, you touch his face and turn him to look at you. Now facing you, you see that he has tears running down his face, his nose runny and red. Wiping away his tears, you look him over.
“Babycakes? What happened?” You coo, rubbing his cheek with your thumb. He avoids your gaze, finding the floor interesting as you pull his face in closer, trying to get an answer. With a huff, possibly out of embarrassment, he answered.
“I just felt…similar to how I felt before Eve ended things.” You looked at him stunned. While you had been dating for a few years, you both never inquired about your past relationships. You and your ex-husband ended things healthily, willing to say hello as you passed one another. Adam knew that there was nothing between the both of you. You never had to explain to him in detail what happened, just that your marriage from when you were alive was no more. On the other hand, you knew nothing of Adam’s relationship with Eve or even Lilith. You obviously never met Lilith, only hearing about her from word of mouth, but Eve was nowhere to be seen. All you know about his relationship with her is that she was the one who initiated the divorce. “'m just scared you’re going to leave too.” 
You pull him in for a tight hug, shocking him. He takes a moment before hugging you in return. You both hold each other for a while before he breaks it. Sniffling, he rubs his nose and looks at you, the soft smile that was reserved for you on his face. You give him one in turn and hold one of his hands.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
He does, he tells you about his relationship with Lilith. How in the beginning, he wasn’t the massive dick he was (to which you think at least he is self-aware) and loved Lilith. Both of them were headstrong, yet they loved one another, or at least he thought they did. When it was revealed to Adam that Lilith had gone behind his back and formed a relationship with an Angel, causing them both to fall, he was heartbroken. 
It took the angels promising him a new wife to even get slightly better. But by the time Eve was born, Adam wasn’t the same person and didn’t treat Eve as he ought to. Not that he abused her, but he wasn’t the nicest to her. When she proposed the divorce, it still hurt him. He knew that the relationship was on its downfall, but he didn’t think it was to the point of no return
He confides in you about his insecurities, and how he believes that he is the reason for his past relationships' downfall. How no matter how much of a dick he was, he didn’t want to risk losing you.
You spent the whole evening holding him as he bore the very essence of his being to you. Becoming the man he once was, before he died, before Eve, and before Lilith. He cried like a baby that he never was, and you were there to soothe him.
That night, as you both held each other in your arms, you couldn’t help but make one wish to heaven and the stars. A wish that you didn’t think the heavens could support alone. You wished for the help of comforting Adam, restoring his broken confidence in love.
From that day on, you vowed to be the very best lover that Adam ever had. 
You figured out that his love languages were words of affirmation and physical touch, so you set out to do small things for him. Giving him small gifts, kissing his cheek when he wasn’t expecting it, and complimenting his body. 
You encouraged him to have more conversations about what was bothering him, giving him the space to open his chest whole for you to glimpse into his essence. 
Eventually, he began to return your actions by complimenting your love languages. He was even less of a dick, which allowed some of the saints to actually hold a conversation with him. 
Through your love and work, he was slowly becoming a better version of himself.
You fixed your outfit and hair through the mirror. Both you and Adam had gotten into the routine of having date nights, some in your shared home, others out at a nice restaurant. Tonight was a night that Adam had planned all on his own, just telling you to get ready. You were done getting ready, now waiting for your boyfriend. 
“Adam!” You yelled to him, who you assumed was in your bedroom. “Are you sure we are going to make it?”
“Relax sugar tits,” He says, entering the living room. He was dressed similarly to you, wearing a maroon color that matched your outfit. Long gone was his mask, now showing his handsome face, his scruff trimmed and his hair slicked back. He had a thin jacket for you and his regular leather jacket draped over his arms as he walked up to you. Kissing you on the head, he looked at you through the mirror as you looked over yourself once more. “We will get there. Reservation isn’t for another 45 minutes.”
You turned to look at your boyfriend, taking in his features. You brushed off some imaginary dirt off his shoulder as you placed your arms over his shoulders. Resting your forehead on his, you let out a breath.
“Sorry. I just…don’t want to be late. This the nicest restaurant in heaven, and I don’t want our evening to be ruined because our table was given away.” You say, closing your eyes. You feel Adam move his head as he kisses for forehead once more and lifts your head to look at him. 
“Don’t worry about it. Even if our table is given away, we can always have a lazy night in.” He puts his hand on your cheek, a touch you lean into. You both stare at one another before you lean in for a kiss. Adam smiles into the kiss and puts his other hand on your waist, pulling you in. You hum and try to stop the kiss. Reluctantly, he pulls away from the kiss, his lips now red and glossy from your lip stain. “Or…we could fuck the restaurant and just do each other.”
Wiggling his eyebrows, you laugh and hit his shoulder.
“No. You planned tonight, and I don’t want to miss it.” He shrugs and backs away a bit, no longer pressed up against you. Grabbing your hand, he begins to lead you out of your home. You talk with one another as you leave, you unaware of the box in his back pocket, inside a ring of your favorite gem with an engraving on the band.
‘You and only you’
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also so sorry ig he is OOC 😭😭😭 everytime i write him, he strays further from canon LOLOLOL
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elenalolls · 2 months
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I’ll Get By With You On My Mind — Spencer Reid.
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: What was supposed to be a simple check-in turned into an abduction where the team must find you.
Word Count: 1.4K+
Warning/s! — Kidnapping, guns, knives, violence. It’s Criminal Minds.
A/N: Hellur!
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You.
Getting kidnapped and potentially tortured was definitely not on your 2024 bingo card, that much was for sure. But unfortunately, life has a way of surprising us when we least expected it.
So here you were, tied and strapped down to a wooden chair where a piece of wood struck out, poking your thigh. That ultimately keeping you from dozing off. Basically, it’s been a while since your abduction and quite frankly, you were tired.
Deciding to use your time wisely, you clamped your eyes shut, trying to perform a cognitive on yourself. What led you here? Or in this case, who.
The harder you tried to remember, the more gaps seemed to appear in your story. You were walking— no, you were running. Something had caught your attention, but what was it?
It had to have been a scream, sounds of a struggle, nothing else would have gotten your attention. That would cause you to rush towards the sound, sound, sound.
It was a scream.
“Agent Y/L/N. Glad to see you awake,” an unfamiliar (but confusingly familiar) voice started. Their— his heavy footsteps gradually becoming more louder the closer he got. “A shame it has to be you of all people, I’ve grown to like you.”
With furrowed eyebrows, you look over your shoulder before talking. “Do I know you?”
A laugh, deep and creepy. “‘Do I know you’, she asks. Of course you know me.”
“Come out into the light and I’ll see if I know you.” You replied, trying your best to seem unaffected, calm.
With a short scoff, you instinctively flinch as the chair you're tied to is abruptly turned around. The loud screech making you grimace.
Opening your eyes, you take in the man in-front of you. You did know him - he was the latest victims boyfriend. You felt your trembling hands ball into fists. You had been there for him, offering consolation and comfort, making it clear that you were there to support him through this difficult time. And to find out it was him all along? You were deceived and he was well aware of that.
He tilts his head, a sinister smirk plastered on his features. “Didn’t expect it to be me, did you?” Silence. “Didn’t think so, you must feel like such a fool.”
“You’re pathetic.” You spat, unable to stop those two words from leaving your lips.
Now, one thing you did expect was some sort of retaliation to your insult. That being his hand coming in contact with your face, knocking you out cold.
Spencer.
He ran a hand through his already tousled hair for what seemed like the millionth time, earning a concerned glance from Emily, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Reid, we’ll find her.”
"She shouldn't have gone alone," he muttered to no one in particular, as he walked over to the board displaying various details about the case.
“It was just supposed to be a simple check-in, none of us could’ve seen this coming—”
“Repeat what you just told me, Garcia.” JJ ordered, walking into the conference room. Placing her phone on the table so the others could hear.
“As you know, Jessica Woods had a boyfriend. Nothing skeptical about that, right? Well, you’re wrong. I was doing a background check, y’know, looking through records and whatnot, I found out her boyfriend, Sean, has a history of violence. He’s gotten into ten fights in the span of just this year. But! That’s not even the thing, he grew up in an abusive household, mother left, leaving a nine year old Sean behind in the process, and to make matters worse, he was deemed safe in his fathers care, things must’ve went downhill from there.”
Questioning furthermore, Emily asked, “Any updates on his father?”
“He worked at the grocery store Sean works at now—”
Spencer straightens. “Worked. Why past tense? What happened to him?”
“Hold on…” She trails off, the room filled with the sound of her keyboard, before she speaks again. “Oh. He, uh, died last week.”
“Right before the killings started,” JJ stated, “Let’s think about this, the victims were blonde, blue eyes, and all were in their thirties, we’ve already established that they were surrogates. What if they were surrogates for Sean’s mother? His father’s death could’ve brought back memories he didn’t want to remember which would’ve also inevitably led to him remembering how his mother practically abandoned him. And the only way to… release his pent-up anger was to find woman who resembled her and well, kill them.”
“But Jessica didn’t look like them at all? She was brunette and had brown eyes.” Emily went on, her brows knitting together. “Not only that, but she was in her mid-twenties.”
“She probably found out what he was doing, she wasn’t apart of the plan.” Reid voiced, “Garcia—”
“Address has already been sent to your phones. Stay safe,” and with that, the line goes dead.
“JJ, take Morgan with you. I’ll send in more backup. Reid, you’ll stay with me—“ her words come to a halt when she notices him already rushing out of the room.
He's already in the car, equipping his bulletproof vest by the time JJ and Morgan get in. Morgan then starts the car, turns on the sirens, and speeds towards the address Garcia sent.
It took ten minutes for them to arrive. Spencer quickly jumping out of the car before it even has a chance to stop. He hurries towards the house, glancing back at Morgan, who raises a hand to signal him to wait.
His jaw tightens as he complies, but the moment he hears your pained cry, worry floods over him. And Reid doesn't need to say a word for Morgan to understand they need to hurry.
So without a second to spare, Morgan kicks the door open. “Sean Walker, FBI.”
Spencer follows suit quickly after him, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of a knife being held to your throat. “Make any sudden movements and she’s dead.”
Not answering, Morgan’s eyes focus on something behind him. “Okay, okay. Look, I’m leaving. See?” He says, slowly backing up and out the door.
“God— what kind of FBI agents are you? Leaving a clearly armed suspect with one of your own?” He questioned out loud, pressing the knife harder against your skin, eliciting a whimper, his attention turning to you. “Do you understand how easy it was to lure her out? All it took was a recording of someone screaming and she came running right to me.”
“You’re right,” Spencer nodded, keeping his gun trained on the boy in front of him. “What kind of FBI agent falls for the easiest trick in the handbook.”
“Oh, please. Just stop,” He glares, “I know what you people do. You try to make me trust you, try to make it seem like you think like me. Because I can assure you, you don’t.”
“We think exactly like you, how do you think we found you?” Spencer pushed, his attention subtly drawn to Morgan's presence at the open window behind him. Making every effort to enter through it quietly, “Sean, we know what your father did, why your mother left.”
“And what exactly did my father do besides teach me to become the man I am today? My father did that, my mother didn’t. She was weak.“
“If you hated her so much, why kill four innocent woman including your girlfriend because of her?” He inquired, tone stern.
Sean’s expression falters at the mention of his girlfriend, making him tighten his hold around you. “Shut up.”
Noticing his sudden change in demeanor, Reid continues, “You loved her.” He acknowledged, “And yet you killed her, you loved her and then ended her lif—”
With a menacing scowl, he raises the knife, about to speak when Morgan swiftly intervenes, grabbing his arms and forcefully pushing him against the wall. In the chaos that ensues, you crumble to the floor, prompting Spencer to rush towards you.
“Y/N—”
“Untie me, please, get them off.” You cried, referring to the ropes that bound your wrists.
He wastes no time and quickly follows through. Once they’re off, you throw your arms around him. He’s caught off-guard by your sudden embrace, but he welcomes it nonetheless. “You’re okay. You’re safe.”
You don't respond to his comforting words, only repeating the same five words, "I knew you'd find me." In response, he tightens his grip around you and gently lifts you up, guiding you towards the waiting ambulance where you'll receive the care you need.
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DT(s) — @bellelovesmen ! ౨ৎ
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priniya · 11 months
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hi lovie! could you do some percy (or leo, maybe both?? i love them sm hahaha) headcanons abt dating an aphrodite’s child?
I COMPLETELY LOVE THE IDEA OMG??? tysm for requesting anon <3
sorry if it’s not like you imagined it😭 it’s my first time with headcanons like that
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dating percy as an aphrodite’s child would include . . .
okay you all gotta admit that if percy could, he would brag about his partner being so beautiful that no one can compete with them
i feel like he’s at the university and some guys are talking and he just waits for a chance to show you off and be like “they are literally a goddess’ child”
BUT IN FRONT OF YOU??? he’d get so awkward even if you were dating for so long
also i’m 100% sure annabeth would sometimes point it out and laugh at the way he turns into a hot mess around you
but tbh you thought it was cute, cus let’s be real. it’s percy jackson, if you weren’t a hot mess around him as well, who would you be?
if you two are sent on a mission together, he rarely thinks about himself first, always making sure you’re okay before he checks himself
in his dorm he probably has pictures of you sticked to the wall in like a heart shape and his roommates might make fun of him for being such a simp but those photos gives him strength whenever you two are apart 🔥
he’s all in for that relationship, he even officially introduced you to both his parents and paul
you taught him how to braid hair and whenever you stay at his mom’s he braid his sister’s hair under your supervision ☹️☹️
when he started dating you he probably became such a gossip guy LIKE hear me out, he started paying attention to details and people’s behavior to talk about it with you
“you won’t believe what i heard today from piper.” “nah, she didn’t told me about it directly, her body language did.”, “i know right, how could he do that to her?”
he’s all in for the tea‼️‼️‼️
OH and also when you began dating he started paying more attention to jewellery and his outfits upgraded so much??
HE IS ALSO SO JEALOUS OF YOU AND HE KISSES YOU IN PUBLIC WHEN HE CATCHES A GUY LOOKING YOUR WAY
“i know you’re a child of aphrodite but these people gotta know i am your ares. or hephaestus.” “wait, am i your ares or hephaestus?”
dating leo as an aphrodite’s child would include . . .
this man is head over heels for you, and i know i said percy also is head over heels for his partner but LEO is on different level
he often drags you to the bunker whenever he feels like it and make you sit there with him, while he crafts something (mostly for you)
that man dedicates all his work for you, like
“oh this? i made it for yn cus they said [insert thing] fall apart so i just… did it.”
ngl he is kind of insecure that you’d left him for a child of ares just like your mother did to his father. even though you reassure him he’s the one on your mind, it still stings him sometimes
getting an approval from your mom wasn’t even that hard as you thought it could be. though she wasn’t exactly the most delighted you were in love with her husband’s child but… love is love right?
pet names in spanish ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
n you would pick it up and surprise him by calling him something in spanish <3
EVEN THOUGH he’s insecure about history repeating itself he jokes about it way too much sometimes 😭😭
brags to jason about you so much jason wants to off himself and i am not kidding
he once asked you to charm-speak him just to see how it feels
“what? don’t be like that, mi amor. i gotta know what’s your power’s like in case you do it subconsciously.”
(that’s literally the dumbest excuse you’d ever hear but didn’t care, considering it was your boyfriend who asked)
MANY people says you remind them of charlie and silena and when you heard it for the first time, you broke down crying because it was such a good compliment
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monzabee · 11 months
Text
hot girls support 44 – lh44
masterlist
Summary: The one where your husband realises that you are, indeed, his number one fan.
Pairing: lewis hamiton x wife!reader
Word Count: 1.2k
Warnings: cursing? (i’m not even sure), and a whole lot of fluff
Request: “Hi can you do we’re Lewis Hamilton wife is with him to see one of his races but she leaves the garage for some reason and over hears someone talking bad about her husband and she snaps and tells them straight and Lewis is watching her from a distance like damn that’s my wife”
Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i don’t know if this classifies as a drabble but let’s just pretend it does because i realised that i can’t write anything under 1k? this was a very fun request to work on, so thank you to anon, and i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee
Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms. 
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Both you and Lewis are private people when it came to your relationship. It has always been that way, with him leading a lifestyle in front of the cameras, and you preferring to stay away from those said cameras as much as you can. Over time, you both developed a rhythm, a delicate balance between Lewis's public persona and your desire for privacy. It was an unspoken agreement, an understanding that you valued above all else.. You knew how much Lewis's racing career meant to him, and you admired his ability to excel under the constant scrutiny. And in return, Lewis respected your wish for a quieter, more intimate life together. It was this mutual respect that solidified the foundation of your relationship, allowing it to thrive despite the challenges that fame and attention often brought.
That is not to say that you guys were completely private, of course. You’ve had your fair share of events the two of you attended as a couple, as well as races, but Lewis is always mindful of the fact that you don’t want cameras in your faces. In the early days of your relationship, the media had tried to capture glimpses of your relationship, eager to uncover every detail and learn more about the woman who finally made him give up his bachelor status. However, Lewis, being the fiercely protective partner that he was, had firmly set boundaries to shield your personal life from the prying eyes of the world. He cherished the sanctity of your bond and understood the importance of keeping certain moments sacred and away from the public eye.
The two of you have a special routine for the race days where you decide to join him on the track – you mainly spend your time inside the Mercedes garage, instead of lingering around where the cameras are most likely to be. However, you make sure to leave the garage for celebrations for those races where Lewis is up on the podium, celebrating him with the people who support him every step along the way whom he appreciates immensely; while the podium celebrations were reserved for the public eye, the garage held its own intimate victories. It was here that you celebrated the milestones and shared the unspoken triumphs, basking in the knowledge that your presence was an unwavering pillar of support for Lewis. But for the most part, you’re happy with your routine – it’s safe, familiar and it has worked for a very long time. So you don’t really know why you decided to take Roscoe on an impromptu tour of the paddock, especially when he gives you that look which clearly says that he would rather be taking his afternoon nap.
It's a good day despite the chaos everyone on the paddock seems to be in, but then again, there’s only a few hours until the qualifying session. So, in hopes of avoiding the human traffic, you decide to take Roscoe to a more secluded area in the back. As you walk, Roscoe happily wagging his tail by your side, you take in the sights and sounds of the paddock. The familiar smell of rubber and gasoline fills the air, mingling with the excited murmurs of fans and the distant roar of engines. It's a world you've come to know and appreciate, even if from a slightly different perspective. Lost in your thoughts, you suddenly hear voices growing louder as you approach a group of people gathered in conversation. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you slow your pace, intending to discreetly eavesdrop before continuing on your way. But as you get closer, you realize the topic of their conversation hits closer to home than you expected.
In hindsight, you know better to get involved in situations which might cause you to bother yourself with rude, petty people, but when it concerns your husband and everything that he has worked hard his entire life for, you don’t even hesitate. With the fierce protectiveness you feel inside, you clear your throat to get the attention of the engineers, “Excuse me,” you say as you give them a (fake) smile, “could you repeat that again, please?”
The group falls silent, their faces registering surprise and perhaps a touch of embarrassment. They exchange glances, seemingly unsure of how to respond to your unexpected intrusion. “We just meant that–” The man is quickly silenced by one of his friends elbowing him in the side.
You ignore the silent ow that comes from the man’s mouth and give the trio a stare down. “Well, I guess everybody is entitled to their opinions.” Your sweet smile and dulcet tone is enough to think them that everything is fine, but you’re quick to continue voicing your thoughts, “But that doesn’t give you the right to undermine a man’s hard work, especially when he has broken record after record and don’t even get me started on the fact that not only he is a pioneer in this sport, he is also a role model and inspiration to many and has impact beyond the track.” You let a frustrated hum, “Also, have some respect, the guy is an eight-time world champion.”
The guy who spoke before looks confused as he attempts to point out, “He won it seven–”
“Do you want me to let Roscoe attack you?” You ask as you point to the puppy sitting next to you, who, in hearing his name, looks up at you; all panting and happily sticking his tongue out.
Little do you know, Lewis had been watching the entire scene unfold from a distance, a mix of admiration and adoration in his eyes. He waits until the engineers leave in a hurry, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed on his chest. A smile tugs at the corners of Lewis's lips as he watches you handle the situation with such grace and confidence. As you turn around, ready to head back to the safety of the Mercedes garage, your eyes meet his, and a surge of warmth fills your heart. Walking towards you, Lewis closes the distance between you, his steps purposeful and full of pride. His arms quickly find their place on your waist as he mumbles, “Damn, that’s my wife.”
You roll your eyes at his antics, your face quickly mirroring the smile he gives to you. “Didn’t you see the sign? Apparently, ‘hot girls support 44’.”
“Is that so?” He hums, letting his hands wonder towards the back pockets of your jeans as he continuously presses kisses along your jaw, “It’s definitely right.”
As Lewis's lips trail along your jawline, sending shivers down your spine, you playfully swat at his chest. "Behave, Mr. World Champion. We're in a public place," you whisper, trying to suppress the laughter bubbling up inside you.
Lewis chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with love and mischief. "Can't help it, love. Seeing you stand up for me like that, it's a turn-on," he teases, his voice laced with admiration. "But you're right, let's save the public displays of affection for later."
With a shared understanding and a silent promise, you and Lewis turn, making your way back to the familiar comfort of the Mercedes garage. In each other's presence, you find solace and strength, ready to face whatever lies ahead. And as Roscoe happily trots beside you, you can't help but feel grateful for the extraordinary life you share with the man who has captured your heart, both on and off the track.
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junicult · 8 months
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what are the bachelors love languages?
!! the bachelors love languages
contains ; fluff! sfw. gn!reader. established relationships. the bachelors being clingy lol. not proofread.
note ; i finished this earlier then expected so here u goo
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harvey.
- he likes to receive words of affirmation, for sure.
- he loves those moments when you’re affectionate, holding him and kissing him,
- but nothing will top the way he feels when you verbally reassure him just how much you love him.
- to him, it’s so intimate to hear in detail of how much he means to you.
- theres nothing better to him then when you’ve finished up a day of working, you’re all exhausted and drained, and the minute you walk through the door you just physically relax.
- you come up behind him, wrapped your arms around his torso and press your cheek against his back.
- “missed you a lot today, i needed this.”
- sure, the act of sighing and latching onto him tells him the same thing, but it really sinks in when he hears it.
- “you missed me?” he smiles, looking down at you with a soft gleam in his eye.
- “of course i missed you. i always miss you when you’re not around.”
- a sure-fire way to get him to melt. swear.
- when it comes to his personal love language, though, it’s absolutely acts of service.
- he loves being of help to you, in any way he can.
- and usually you dismiss him when he tries to help you outside, given he has his own work he needs to focus on as well.
- so when you’ve gone the whole day working non-stop, he always makes an effort to help you feel better.
- whether you’re sore, and need a massage, or even in the way he makes dinner every night.
- any excuse to pamper you, he’s taking it.
- you’ve done so much for him, who is he to not pay it back?
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sam.
- PHYSICAL TOUCHHHHH.
- he cannot take his hands off of you sometimes. the moment you’re in his sight, he wants to be holding you.
- and, if you don’t like physical touch, then…you might have to get used to it.
- he will hold back, but he loves your presence too much.
- he wants to cuddle whenever you’re laying together, he likes to hold your hand when you’re out in public.
- he’s clingy in general. he doesn’t like spending more then a day apart.
- and even then, if you go without seeing each other from morning to night, he’ll be extra antsy the entire day.
- he might even walk out to go find you.
- he also loves receiving physical touch. if your love language is something else entirely, that’s fine with him of course.
- but when you’re the one to lean into him, kiss him and hold him first; he’s grinning.
- “aw, hi! what’s up? are you almost done? do you need any help?”
- u opened a gate that’s hard to close.
- i hate this as a term but…golden retriever.
- if he had a tail it’d be WAGGING.
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shane.
- his own love language is quality time.
- whether it be the two of you sitting together, not really talking just enjoying the company of one another,
- or times when you’d come along with him, jas, and marnie during events.
- those are his favorite.
- he really loves those moments when you’re talking about your day, holding his hand and rubbing his knuckles absentmindedly.
- it just reminds him you’re there with him, not thinking about anyone else.
- and those times when he gets to see the way you interact with the people he loves so much; it warms his heart in ways he hasn’t felt in a long time.
- and despite jas being pretty hard to get to know, somehow she ends up latched by your side, playing dolls with you, asking about you.
- when marnie teaches you a few things about your animals, and you’re just patiently listening, giving her all of your attention and even laughing with her,
- idk. he’s just obsessed.
- cus after a while you’ll just turn back to him, pull him in close and give him a little kiss on the cheek…he’s blushing. i said it.
- the love language he likes to receive is words of affirmation.
- he melts when you tell him how much you love him, what you love about him, how handsome he is.
- it’s a one way ticket to get him attached to ur hip.
- i think it’s just because he doesn’t hear it often, so in general it comes as a shock when he gets compliments.
- but when he hears it from you…omg.
- “why’re you staring at me?”
- “you look really handsome. did you shave?”
- something as simple as that. it even hits deeper when he didn’t shave, he just looks like that.
- he tries to pretend like it didn’t make him all gushy inside, but the suppressed smile and the fact that he has to turn his face from you says otherwise.
- and if you tease, “aw, did i embarrass you?” while giggling.
- you’ll kill him. he’s a dead man in love.
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sebastian.
- he’s another guy who loves quality time.
- giving, and receiving.
- he’s not big on going out, spending time with large crowds of people, etc.
- it always makes him super anxious, even when you’re there he still sorta hates it.
- however, if it were just the two of you, let’s say out for dinner at a nice restaurant or something, i honestly think he loves that.
- he prefers staying inside with you a million times more, but there’s something so sweet about being able to sit with you, in your own booth he can pretend it’s his own little bubble.
- there’s no interruptions from work or family, no responsibilities when he’s in this bubble with you.
- yeah, sure, the waiter will interject a couple times, but he still gets to just sit alone with you, talk to you, learn new things about you.
- not to mention, when you do all the talking he likes to watch you as well.
- he thinks it’s cute the way your voice changes, and how you treat the waiters so politely.
- despite this being a little guilty pleasure of his, he still prefers alone time with you.
- laying in bed, tiredly humming about things. you’re just resting on your sides, looking at each other lovingly.
- sometimes when you’re making dinner, he props up his computer nearby. while you’re both doing separate things, he’s just happy you’re in the same room together.
- and those times when he helps you out with your chores. helping you with crops, going into the mines with you,
- whatever it is, he loves it.
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alex.
- his love language is physical touch.
- there’s no doubt in my mind he doesn’t love the feeling of you in his arms, especially when he’s falling asleep and whatnot.
- even if he falls asleep before you get home, he’s still entirely unconscious but the minute you get in bed he still reaches for you.
- he’s always kissing your cheek as a way to say hello. and he’s the type that kisses you goodbye multiple times.
- like 5 minutes after you initially said goodbye, he’s still pulling you back in and ignoring your laugh, “alex, i really need to goo!”
- he’s definitely slipped his fingers into your back pocket to tug you closer after you turn away, just to kiss you again.
- he can pretend he isn’t, but he’s so clingy.
- surprisingly though, he’s not picky when it comes to your love language. he doesn’t care what it is.
- he enjoys his alone time with you, whenever you touch and hug him, hearing about how much you love him, when you make him dinner, etc.
- but he still loves when you wake him up with a freshly made complete breakfast, or even cook him a salmon dinner.
- it’s domestic, and he’s grateful for how much effort you put into it.
- he seriously falls deeper in love when you surprise him with those.
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elliott.
- quality time <33
- there’s nothing he loves more then to see your face after an exhausting day.
- he’s not picky at all. not even in the slightest. he’ll take any change he can get to be with you.
- even if you can only spare a few minutes, he’s basking in the glory of each second.
- your quality time spent together is a mix of many different things;
- whether you’re sitting in silence, he’s writing and you’re just sitting beside him,
- or he’s listening intently to how you talk about your day, and how your animals are doing.
- he’s holding your hand, resting his chin in his own, making you feel like you’re the only person in the entire world.
- it’s his favorite thing.
- he’s also not picky. any show of affection you give him, it’ll never fail to warm his heart.
- you so kindly offer him a pomegranate, he holds the back of your hand, bringing the fruit closer and taking a bite.
- all of the juices slide between your fingers, down your palm, and he briefly licks the juice away, before pressing a kiss to your palm and expressing his gratefulness.
- he’s so extra.
- but he still takes the fruit when you offer it all.
- it’s a little plus for you, too, especially when he leans in for a kiss and you get to taste the fruit, too.
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asimpathetic · 6 months
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random relationship headcanons with sean anderson;
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hey! this is the first time i've posted something on tumblr, i hope it's good. and i'm sorry if this hcs is not well written, english is not my first language, i'm using google translate for some things.😢
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for starters, this boy is a total simp. we all know he's a nerd and spends more time in front of his computer and some books researching things about Verne, but he likes to do that while spending time with you, his love language totally includes quality time;
sean shifted in his swivel chair, reaching out to grab a paper from the other side of the table, you watched in silence as he did so, admiring your boyfriend as he studied, you were laying on his bed, and your gaze fixed on him caught his attention. sean turned around looking at you and laughed briefly seeing your lying down figure.
"whats that?"
“just admiring”
he smiled, moving the chair to get closer to you, cupping your face lightly and leaving a kiss on your lips.
at school he stays by your side as much as he can, and helps you with your homework, smiling and explaining every difficulty you have, giving you a few kisses at times, this boy is thirsty for physical touch.
speaking of physical touch, he will always be touching you in some way, whether it's holding your hand, putting his arm around your shoulders, or anything he thinks of.
he looked at you with puppy dog ​​eyes, you could only let out a sigh before pulling him close, cupping your cheeks and bringing your lips together in a kiss, and when you pulled away, sean moved his head. following your mouth, wanting more of the good feeling he felt when he kissed you.
“sean… i’m busy”
“just one more, love”
and who were you to deny him that? you gave him countless kisses after that request, stroking his hair and the back of his neck sometimes as he pulled you closer
sean's mom loves you! sometimes when he is busy with something, you help her in the kitchen, talking about the day and about dating, she sometimes gives you some tips about sean,
sean likes to tell you about every new discovery, he tells you every curiosity contained in Verne's books, and you read the books when the two of you spend time together.
this boy is very chatty, he will talk about literally everything with you, so be prepared to hear even the smallest details of something new he discovered.
sean took a while to tell you about his father, and about how he died, you didn't believe it, it seemed unreal at first, but his serious tone convinced you otherwise, and you were there to support him while the boy vented. you became his safe place.
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n30nwrites · 2 months
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Heel (Shifter TF141 x Male! Reader)
Chapter 3 of Good Doggy.
Masterlist here
Warnings - Just some sadness. Some thought of death but nothing too in detail. Some talks of sex and mention of Mating??? But nothing too explicit. Reader is kind of a dick but I understand it, you won't for a bit though. Also Price thinks about some dark things like kidnapping/murder, along with some thoughts on noncon biting, Lowkey the boys get kind of yandere in a way but nothing too dark I think. Ghost thinks about killing you. Also internalized homophobia but enough to not even notice, Thoughts of dubious consent.
Updated: 3/5/2024
Beta Reader/Editor: The one and only @letmelickyoureyeballs
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Gaz takes his first step towards hope and he now understands everything.
He understands why Soap wouldn't shut up yesterday about you. He understands why Price held that meeting. He understands why Ghost keeps staring. He understands why he had to wait.
All good things come to those who wait. And he was patient. Some god out there must have seen that and granted him you. Because even though your eyes are covered he knows that you are it for him. It hasn't been officially confirmed, but there was no way you weren't it.
He doesn't think he can handle you not being his mate.
The car door opens and a woman walks out. And you greet her with a hug and a whisper in her ear about the stares from the neighbors, which she laughs at and kisses your cheek. And Gaz pauses in his movement.
He can hear his pack’s footsteps as they stumble out the door. Their words of protest at his actions quickly came to a stop as they realized that someone had joined you.
You take off your glasses to look at them as you pull away and he can imagine a future with you. He wants to live in this neighborhood, your house or his but he knew his would be big enough for a litter of pups. He wanted to have you stay home, healthy and fat and never in danger. 
Kyle looked at you like there was something worth looking at.
He now knows that he is going to continue loving you, and that he does not see a future when you will eventually pass on as all humans do. You are too gorgeous to be real, exactly what he waited for all this time and he does not regret it all.
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You can't help but question your neighbors. There's four of them, as it turns out. All in black which you would judge if you weren't doing the same. Maya follows your gaze and you know that their attention must be on her.
She's beautiful, and you aren't insecure of yourself in a way, but even you had feelings for her at one point. Her left arm is a metal prosthetic, one that was forged by a family friend. She stands tall and proud and it makes you feel more confident. 
"Can I help you gentlemen?" She understands society's norms. She's polite with a possible killer, she bares her teeth showing a smile that is wide and almost innocent to falsely secure these men in front of her. She was a killer in disguise. Prepared at all times.
"Just greeting the new neighbors." Kyle says and the other three come next to him. They are in your yard, something that makes you uncomfortable.
"You greet differently than your friends." You comment, glancing at Soap and Ghost. "Still seem to have a staring problem." You lower your sunglasses more trying to ignore the harsh light. You make eye contact with each of them and your chest aches at it. "This is my partner-"
"Maya." She interrupts, taking the attention away from you. "You gentlemen mind helping us move our stuff in." And you glare at her, not that you cared for their help, you didn't like people touching your stuff nor did you like strangers being in your space. She was the opposite, she didn’t care if people entered her house. You guessed that now you had to share a living space with her, you’d have to get over it at some point. They step closer to agree.
"Really gonna invite some strangers to help?" You say loudly, knowing that they heard because you didn't care to hide the dislike. 
"I don't wanna carry these boxes darling..." She drags out the word, "Plus you need to rest for work tonight." Your shift lasts from 10 pm to 6 am. "Don't want you to tire yourself out."
She puts on a caring layer. You trust her but you don't like this form of parenting she's trying to do with you. 
"I'm not leaving them with our stuff. Go get the boys set up." You tell her as you head to the back of the trunk and open it. Maya opens the side door, grabbing two animal carriers. You can hear your dog barking, Maya’s cat was probably sleeping. The car smells of sulfur and you twitch your nose, adjusting your face mask. "You can go back to your house." You say to them right as Maya goes inside.
"We said we'd help, might as well." You weren't expecting the accent to come from the stalker with the mohawk. "I'm Soap." Soap, it was a strange nickname. "That's Ghost." He points to the stalker with the mask. 
Soap and Ghost. Your two witnesses to your moving in. The men who just stared.
They look familiar.
"I'm Kyle." He's hot. You're staring at him, fully aware of that. They're all hot. He holds out his hand and you shake it, not immediately repulsing at the touch which was strange. You say your name. "That's Price." He points to John.
"John Price..." You say his name aloud, "And here I thought you were just John." You told him, grabbing a box of books and shoving it into Kyle's arms. "Living room, next to the built-in bookcase by the sun nook."
You kept shoving the boxes into their arms, anxious every time you couldn't see one of them. Out of all four of them, Ghost made you the most uncomfortable. He wouldn't stop staring. And you told him as much when it came to an end.
"Do you stare because you plan to kill me or simply because you have issues?" Maya had insisted you'd walk them to their house despite it being right across from yours. She said it was the polite thing to do, and you told her that it was bullshit but you weren't going to argue against her and waste your energy on it. Ghost was the last to walk onto the porch, still not blinking. "If you are going to kill me, you will fail."
"Why did you move here?" He asks, and they are all staring.
"Learn to blink." You tell him, "You do not need to know why I am here. We are not friends, we are not gonna be friends, Maya is nice to you because she thinks you are attractive and I can see where it is coming from, but this thing you are doing, talking and trying to help out and telling me your nicknames."
You pause as you stare at Kyle's eyes.
"It's useless. I want nothing to do with you."
And Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick breaks inside.
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"You are being too cruel to them," Maya says as you close the door. The house is soundproof, she made sure of it. She knows they can hear the conversation if they wanted to, which is why she had blocked off any possible sound to escape.
"How? They are being a nuisance-"
"They are men who found their mate. I've seen worse reactions when soulmates meet, surprised they haven't hugged you at all." Maya manipulates her fingers in the air as if she’s plucking a string, and she probably is through her eyes. Maya had always had a gift to see the bond between others, The Strings of Fate, a curse Zeus put on everyone eons ago. Theseus escaped the Minotaur with his thread that connected him to Ariadne, and it seemed Clotho had it in for you. It used to be that everyone could see their own String of Fate, until a few centuries ago when an argument broke out amongst the Gods. Now only a certain few could, and Maya was one of them. 
"If they did I would cut their cocks off." You cringe at the idea of touch. "I do not understand why you are defending them-"
"Because you are being an asshole!" Maya shouts and you turn away, rubbing at your nose as you let out a sigh.
"I understand why they are acting the way they are." Kyle's and Soap's puppy dog eyes almost broke you, they were too handsome. "But you understand why I am like this. It is better to tell them upfront is it not?"
"You haven't even given them a chance-"
"I am not leading them on. I am not manipulating them like I could. I do not want anything to do with them and you know that that is for the best." She says your name to stop you, and you're confused by it.
Why can't she admit to herself the truth? It happened to you just a couple of years ago and you were already over it, but yet she couldn't be?
"Maya," You look at her, "I do not have a soul. I can not feel what they feel. It is impossible for me to have soulmates."
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It's confusing. When everything you thought you know changes. How a simple moment becomes so complicated. It's happened to Gaz a few times in his life, where he's had to change everything he's thought and adapt to the new.
You were supposed to be a woman.
He was supposed to be straight.
He never thought about people in a romantic sense. Sex was one thing, it's a way to release emotions and it's something fun. You didn't have to have an emotional tie with someone for it. But dating was separate. You had to let people in for that, to let them know the ugly parts of you and trust that they won't run.
You weren't supposed to run.
Gaz leaves first. He's the first to stop staring at the air, going into his room and immediately undressing. His mind is blank, running on instincts. The minute he’s done, he’s out the backdoor shifting. 
The pain of his bones breaking quickly disappears, but he welcomes it despite how little it was. He grows paws and fur all over his body, and goes back to his basic instincts.
He's gone for hours.
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Price is the last to move. He's angry at you for everything you said, he’s half a mind to go into your house and just kidnap you.
Who were you to tell him what to do? You were a selfish human, completely unaware of everything they were willing to do for you. You had them on a leash, begging for scraps of attention that you were starving them for.
You hated him, and that made John angry. He wants to burn your house down and show you that you can't be safe without him, he wants to kill Maya, she took you from him.
From them.
He can hear the howls from Gaz and he grabs a bottle of Scotch from the cabinet. He chugs it down, it's not that hard to finish a drink, especially when you crave the burn of it. He wants to shift as well, but that would require ignoring his responsibilities. 
He wished he could show you what makes him right for you.
He just needed one night with you and he was sure he could change your mind. One bite and it was all over, you'd be stuck with him.
He lights a cigar and stays in the kitchen, quiet.
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Stupid, foolish human. Weak, you were pathetic truly.
It was one thing to not like him, it was another to hurt his family.
He thinks that killing you would make it all go away. Ghost doesn't care that it would hurt him for eternity if he was to kill you, he's convinced he can do it and make his pack forget about you, whether it's with time or a witch.
He's convinced that he could get away with it. 
And then he remembers your heart beat and he can't. He knows he can't kill you. But he wishes it was that easy.
Instead of planning your demise, Ghost calls every contact he has looking for information about you. Looking for anything, and while he finds out your last name, he comes to realize that you did not exist 6 years ago.
And when he calls Laswell to question you, she insists he stops looking if he wants to stay safe.
He does not listen.
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Soap thinks about every movement you make.
He convinces himself you're playing hard to get. That you like being chased after like a bunny.
His bunny, his defenseless mate who doesn’t know what was good for him.
You were ignorant, it was okay.
He could help you.
"Ah will protect ye mate. Yer mines bun." 
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NEXT
Okay so maybe I wrote a bit longer. And yeah maybe the boys do seem out of character but literally they will not be like this long, it is just the idea that losing half of your soul makes you mad.
This is just chapter 3 and it's heavy with angst ig?? Um next chapter will definitely be lighter, and so will chapter 5. But hey I guess it's your decision to stick around for that long.
Also maya looks like Salma Hayek because that is a beautiful woman.
And I am not sure how to write Soap's dialect?? I'm trying my best I swear.
Also please leave comments and reblog, more interaction means more interest and I'll probably continue to write it.
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