#I wanna write the apology scene for sure

[mcrdvcks]

needy pt.1

chapter summary: You're Scott's younger sister and for months you've been secretly dating Logan. How much longer can you and him keep the secret?

word count: 8.3k+ (19.3k+ total)

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: don't ask how or why this is so long, it was meant to be be less than 10k words but it just kept going. i was having a lot of fun writing this, and if people want to see a continuation or some other part of the story with these two, don't be afraid to ask! for now, enjoy cause there are like 3 smut scenes

there are two parts! tumblr has a word limit so i had to split it up!

warnings/tags: smut, unprotected piv, slight exhibitionism, slight pain kink, creampie, age gap (that's obvi), oral (f!receiving), slight praise kink, fingering, secret relationship, jealously, some possessiveness, peter maximoff being a little shit, fluff, slight angst

❀ part 2 ❀

“That’s it sweetheart.” Logan drawled, his body hovering over yours while slowly thrusting into you. “Doin’ so good for me.”

Your hands clawed at his shoulders, nail indents healing immediately.

Logan let out a low, rough chuckle against your throat. "Feisty, huh?" His voice was thick with heat, lips dragging along your pulse as he thrust deeper. "Go on, doll, mark me up all you want. Ain't like it'll stick—but I like feelin' you try."

Your breath hitched, legs tightening around his waist. "Shut up and move, Logan."

His smirk was all teeth. "Bossy." But he gave you what you wanted, picking up the pace, the bed rocking under both of you.

Knock. Knock.

Your body stiffened instantly. Logan froze too, just for a second, before his head snapped toward the door.

"Y/N?"

Scott.

Your stomach flipped. Logan's grip on your hip tightened. "You've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," he muttered under his breath.

"Shut up," you hissed, slapping a hand over his mouth. He raised an eyebrow at you, clearly amused despite the situation.

Scott knocked again. "You in there?"

You scrambled for an excuse, trying to keep your voice normal. "Uh—yeah! What do you want?"

Logan leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Think he knows his baby sister's gettin' fucked dumb by the big bad Wolverine?"

You smacked his shoulder. "You're not helping."

Scott sighed on the other side of the door. "Jean said you weren’t in your room, and you missed training this morning. You okay?"

Shit. "Yeah! I'm fine! I just—I was asleep."

Logan stifled a laugh against your neck. "Not a total lie," he murmured, nipping at your jaw.

You shoved at his chest. "Stop it," you mouthed.

Scott hesitated. "You sure?"

Logan's hips rolled, and you barely bit back a moan. "Positive," you choked out. "Just… tired. Can we talk later?"

A pause. Then: "Alright. Just checkin'." His footsteps retreated down the hall.

Logan didn’t wait. The second Scott’s footsteps faded down the hall, he was back on you—mouth hot, breath rough, hands greedy.

"You shoulda heard yourself," he murmured, lips dragging along your jaw. "Tryin’ to sound all innocent when I got you stuffed full like this."

Your nails dug into his back again, legs still locked tight around his waist. "And whose fault is that?"

His smirk was downright filthy. "Mine. And I ain't even a little sorry."

He moved again—slow, deep thrusts that had you gasping against his shoulder. You bit down on his skin, just to keep quiet, and he groaned low in his chest. "Fuck, doll, do that again."

You did, dragging your teeth over his collarbone, then licking over the mark like an apology. His pace stuttered for half a second before he pressed you deeper into the mattress, forearm braced next to your head.

"You wanna play dirty, huh?" His voice was a growl now, rough as gravel. "You're gonna be real sorry 'bout that."

And then he set a punishing rhythm—hips slamming into yours, his body pressed so tight to you that you could feel the heat of him everywhere.

You couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Every drag, every thrust had you unraveling under him, nails clawing at his arms, his back, his shoulders—anything to ground yourself.

"Logan," you gasped.

He groaned, burying his face in your neck. "Yeah, sweetheart, I know. I got you."

His breath was hot against your skin, his weight solid, grounding. But there was nothing slow or sweet about the way he moved now—his hips drove into yours with an intensity that made your nails sink even deeper into his back.

"Fuck, Logan," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckled, rough and dark. "S'what I like to hear," he muttered, dragging his teeth along the side of your throat. "All those little noises—only I get to hear ‘em, huh?"

Your fingers tangled in his hair, yanking just enough to make him grunt. "Maybe if you'd shut up and—oh, shit—keep going—"

Logan didn't need more encouragement. He pressed you further into the mattress, keeping you pinned beneath him, his pace relentless. Every roll of his hips sent a sharp, toe-curling heat through you, your pulse thudding loud in your ears.

Then—his mouth was at your ear again. "You still think Scott bought that bullshit excuse?"

Your stomach tightened, pleasure warring with panic. "Shut up," you hissed.

His smirk was pure sin. "Nah. Kinda fun knowin’ he was just outside while I had you like this—"

"Logan," you warned, biting back a moan.

He just hummed like the idea amused him. "Bet he'd lose his fuckin’ mind if he knew, huh? His sweet, innocent baby sister—" His hips slammed into yours, forcing out a sharp, breathless gasp. "—gettin' wrecked by the guy he hates most."

You slapped a hand over his mouth again, eyes flashing. "Do you want us to get caught?"

Logan just huffed against your palm, but his eyes burned with something darker. Amused. Possessive. A challenge.

Then, just as quickly, he shifted, dragging your hand away and pinning it above your head, his fingers laced through yours. "Nah, I like keepin’ you all to myself," he murmured against your lips before claiming them in a kiss—deep, messy, all tongue and teeth and heat.

The knock at the door had long since faded into silence, but the risk still lingered—your brother was right there, just down the hall. The thought alone made something coil tighter in your gut.

"Logan," you whispered, half warning, half plea.

"Shh," he muttered, his free hand slipping down your body, gripping tight at your waist as he drove into you again. "Just focus on me, sweetheart. Nothin’ else matters."

And for now, with his body pressing you deeper into the sheets, his breath ragged against your skin, and his hands branding you in ways that would never fade—he was right.

---

Dinner was already a disaster, and you hadn’t even sat down yet. Scott was in full big-brother mode, still eyeing you like he wasn’t convinced by your excuse from earlier. Jean had that look too—like she could hear your heart rate spike every time Scott brought it up. And Rogue? She was the worst of them all, smirking every time you so much as shifted in your seat.

“So,” Scott started, arms crossed as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “You sure you’re okay?”

You grabbed a plate, keeping your expression neutral. “Yeah, Scott. Just tired. I overslept.”

Scott frowned, clearly skeptical. “You never oversleep.”

Rogue snorted into her drink. “Maybe she had a long night,” she said innocently, then flicked her gaze toward you with way too much amusement.

Your stomach dropped. You shot her a glare, but she just smirked over the rim of her cup.

“Long night doing what?” Scott asked.

Jean sighed. “Scott.”

“No, seriously. She missed training. That’s not like her.”

“Maybe she was busy,” Rogue said, taking a slow sip. “Real busy.”

You swore you were going to kill her. Right here. At the dinner table.

Scott’s frown deepened. “Doing what?”

Before Rogue could dig your grave any deeper, Logan walked in like he owned the place, rolling his shoulders and grabbing a beer from the fridge. He barely spared you a glance, but you knew he was enjoying this way too much.

“Doin’ what, Summers?” Logan popped the cap off the bottle and took a swig, looking entirely unbothered.

Scott gestured toward you. “She missed training this morning. Said she was sleeping, but she never oversleeps.”

Logan shrugged. “Guess she needed it.”

Scott narrowed his eyes. “You don’t think that’s weird?”

Logan leaned against the counter, looking unimpressed. “What’s weird is you interrogatin’ her like she committed a crime.”

Rogue let out a cough that sounded a hell of a lot like a laugh.

Jean, who had been watching the entire thing unfold, finally spoke up. “Scott, drop it. If she says she was tired, she was tired.”

Scott exhaled sharply, clearly still unconvinced but finally letting it go. “Fine.” He grabbed his plate and moved to sit down.

Logan smirked over the rim of his beer before taking another sip. You didn’t even have to look at him to know exactly what was going through his head.

As soon as Scott turned away, Rogue leaned over and muttered under her breath, “You’re lucky Jean shut him up.”

You kicked her under the table. She just grinned.

---

Later that night you were in your bedroom reading a book when someone knocked on your door. “It’s open!” you called out. You knew it wouldn’t be Logan, not when it was only 9 pm.

Rogue plopped down beside you, stretching her legs out and giving you a shit-eating grin.

"So," she drawled, nudging your shoulder. "How's your nap?"

You groaned, already regretting not locking your door. "Not you too."

"Oh, especially me," she said, grinning. "C'mon, sugar, I deserve some details after helpin’ cover your ass at dinner."

You shot her a glare. "You almost got me caught."

"Please," she scoffed. "Scott's dense as hell when it comes to you. If Jean weren’t there, he’d still be tryin’ to figure out what was ‘off’ about you today." She smirked. "Meanwhile, I know exactly what was off."

You grabbed a pillow and smacked her with it. Rogue just laughed. "Hey, I ain't judgin’! I just think it’s funny how not subtle you two are."

You gave her a look. "We are subtle."

"Uh-huh. Sure," she said, rolling her eyes. "So subtle that I had to watch Logan barely contain his smug-ass smirk at dinner. You realize you got played, right? Scott started pushin’, and Logan shut it down in, like, two sentences."

You frowned. "That wasn’t playing me—that was helping me."

Rogue snorted. "Girl, Logan lives for this. He’s gettin’ off on the fact that he’s sneakin’ around with Scott Summers' baby sister."

You opened your mouth, then closed it. You hated that she was probably right.

Rogue grinned. "Bet he’s got a real nice ego boost right now."

You sighed, flopping back against your pillows. "I hate you."

"No, you don't," she said cheerfully. "But you do love makin’ bad decisions."

"Logan is not a bad decision." She raised an eyebrow. You crossed your arms. "He’s not."

Rogue just smirked. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, sugar."

You groaned. "Are you done?"

"Not even close," she said, kicking her feet up on your bed. "But I’ll give you a break—for now."

"Gee, thanks."

She chuckled, then eyed you for a moment before her smirk softened just a little. "You really like him, huh?"

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Yeah. I do."

Rogue nodded, like she already knew. "Then I guess I’ll keep coverin’ for you."

You smiled. "Thanks."

"Don’t thank me yet," she said, grinning. "If you two do get caught, I wanna be front row for Scott’s meltdown."

---

A few nights later, you barely made it two steps into your room before a rough hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside. The door shut behind you with a quiet click.

“Jesus—Logan!” You turned, ready to shove him off, but the moment you saw the look in his eyes, your stomach flipped.

His hands were already on your waist, pushing you back until your spine hit the door. His body was flush against yours, heat radiating from him.

“You’ve been drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy all day,” he muttered, voice low, rough. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place like he needed to. “Sittin’ across from me at dinner, actin’ all innocent, while I’m still thinkin’ ‘bout the way you came on my cock the other night.”

Your breath hitched, pulse spiking. “Logan—”

“Could barely keep my hands to myself,” he murmured, lips brushing your jaw, your throat. “You think Scott noticed how damn quiet I was?”

You swallowed hard, hands clutching at his arms. “You were quiet?”

Logan chuckled against your skin. “See? You weren’t payin’ attention either.” He pressed closer, one thigh slotting between yours, and you felt him—hot, hard, ready.

“Logan,” you breathed, your fingers twisting in his shirt.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” His lips brushed your ear, teasing. “Tell me what you want.”

A sharp knock made you both freeze. Again? Your stomach dropped as Logan exhaled sharply, muttering a curse under his breath.

“Y/N?” Scott’s voice.

You shut your eyes, biting back a groan. Logan’s forehead dropped against your shoulder, his whole body tense.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he whispered.

You shoved at his chest, mouthing move. He just smirked, staying right where he was.

Scott knocked again. “You in there?”

Logan's smirk widened, eyes gleaming with something smug. You cleared your throat, forcing your voice to sound normal. “Yeah, I’m here.”

“Open up.”

Panic shot through you. Logan just raised an eyebrow, amused. You shoved at his chest harder, whispering, “hide.”

He grinned. “No.”

Your glare was sharp. “Logan.”

He sighed, rolling his eyes before finally stepping back. “Fine.” He moved toward your closet, muttering, “This is fuckin’ humiliatin’,” under his breath.

You didn’t have time to argue. The moment he was out of sight, you exhaled hard and cracked the door open.

Scott frowned down at you. “Why’d that take so long?”

You forced a casual shrug. “I was getting ready for bed.”

Scott squinted at you, then looked over your shoulder, like he expected to find some kind of evidence of your lies. “You sure?”

Your heart pounded. “Yes, Scott,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “Why are you here?”

Scott still looked unconvinced, but finally said, “I wanted to see if you wanted to train in the morning. Just us.”

You blinked. “Uh… sure?”

“Cool. Early morning session. Don’t be late.” He gave you another suspicious look before stepping back. “Night, Y/N.”

You gave him the fakest smile you could muster. “Night.”

The second the door shut, Logan was out of the closet, shaking his head. “You owe me for that.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, poor you. Hiding for thirty seconds.”

He stepped close again, hands sliding back onto your waist. “Not the hidin’ part that pissed me off,” he muttered, pressing his mouth to your throat. “It’s the part where I didn’t get to finish what I started.”

Heat curled in your stomach. “Then finish it,” you whispered.

Logan’s grip tightened, fingers digging into your waist as he pressed you back against the door, his body flush against yours. Heat radiated off him in waves, thick and consuming.

"Thought you'd never ask," he murmured, his voice all gravel and dark amusement. His lips traced a slow path along your jaw before dragging down to your throat, teeth grazing sensitive skin.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, desperate to hold onto something as his hands moved—one sliding up your side, under your shirt, rough fingers splaying against bare skin. You sucked in a sharp breath as he pressed his thigh between yours, the pressure making your head spin.

"Logan—"

"You were teasin' me all damn day," he muttered against your skin. "All wide eyes and sweet little smiles like you weren’t sittin’ there with my fuckin’ marks still on you."

Your breath hitched. His teeth caught on the spot where your shoulder met your neck, biting just enough to make you gasp. "Not my fault you left them," you whispered, your own hands slipping under his shirt, tracing over the hard muscle of his stomach.

Logan chuckled—low, dangerous. "Oh, it was on purpose, sweetheart. Wanted you rememberin' exactly where my mouth was."

His lips skimmed your jaw, his stubble scraping your skin as he worked his way lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the line of your throat. His hands were firm, fingers digging into your waist, holding you against him like he needed you there.

"You should've finished before Scott interrupted," you muttered, breathless, trying to keep some semblance of control.

Logan chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine. "Sweetheart, you really think I’m the kinda guy to rush this?" His teeth scraped over the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. "Nah. You started this game, now you gotta deal with the consequences."

His hands moved—one slipping beneath your shirt, fingers splaying across your ribs, rough and warm. The other slid lower, down the curve of your hip, before gripping the back of your thigh and hauling it up against his side. The movement sent you pressing closer, heat meeting heat, and you gasped.

"You feel that?" His voice was a low growl. "Been hard all damn day because of you."

Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him even closer. "Then do something about it."

His smirk was pure arrogance. "Oh, you got some fire tonight, huh?" His hand on your thigh tightened, his other sliding higher beneath your shirt, grazing the underside of your breast. "I like that."

Before you could snap back, he kissed you—hard. No hesitation, no teasing. His lips crashed against yours, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like he was claiming you, like he'd been waiting for this all day. And maybe he had.

Your back hit the door harder as he pressed into you, deepening the kiss, swallowing the quiet moan that slipped from your throat. His hands were everywhere—roaming, gripping, pulling.

Then, with no warning, he lifted you. You gasped against his lips, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he turned, carrying you toward the bed like you weighed nothing.

"You just gonna manhandle me now?" you teased, breathless.

Logan smirked, dropping you onto the mattress with a bounce. "Damn right I am."

Before you could recover, he was on you—hands braced on either side of your head, knee pressing between your thighs. His lips were back on yours, insistent, hungry. He kissed like he fought—relentless, determined, and utterly in control.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, and the growl he let out sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

His fingers slipped beneath your shirt, dragging it up, his knuckles grazing heated skin as he peeled it over your head. The second it was gone, his mouth was everywhere—kissing, nipping, sucking at the newly exposed skin like he had something to prove.

"Logan—" Your voice hitched as his teeth scraped over your collarbone.

"Shh," he murmured against your skin, lips moving lower. "Let me enjoy this."

His hands found the waistband of your pants, tugging them down with far too much ease, his lips still moving, still teasing. You barely had time to process the cool air against your skin before his hands were on your thighs, spreading you open.

He looked up at you, eyes dark, heated, hungry. "You are gonna be real quiet for me, right?" His voice was nothing but rough gravel and amusement. "Wouldn't want your brother to come knockin' again."

You should've had a smart-ass response ready, but the moment his mouth was on you, your brain short-circuited. A sharp gasp tore from your throat as his tongue dragged slow and deliberate, a teasing flick before he sealed his lips around you and sucked. Your fingers shot to his hair, tangling in the thick mess, your back arching off the bed before you even realized it.

"Logan—"

He growled against you, the vibration sending a shock straight through your system. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you open, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

"Quiet, sweetheart," he murmured, dragging his mouth away just enough to speak. His lips were slick, his voice dark with amusement.

You clenched your jaw, the reminder making your face burn—but not enough to stop you from tugging his hair, shoving him back down where he belonged. Logan chuckled, but didn’t argue.

He buried himself between your thighs again, tongue pressing, curling, teasing. Every flick sent heat pooling deep in your stomach, every slow, deliberate movement dragging you higher and higher, the tension coiling tight.

Your breathing turned uneven, fingers clutching at the sheets. "Logan," you gasped, your thighs threatening to clamp shut.

He didn’t let you. His hands flexed, holding you open as he devoured you, his pace slow and maddening, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"You’re close," he muttered, voice muffled against your skin. He pressed a kiss right where you needed him most, almost gentle. "I can feel it."

You bit down hard on your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of begging. But Logan had other plans. He sucked, hard and sudden, and your whole body jerked.

A sharp cry broke from your throat, your hands flying to muffle yourself as heat crashed through you. The tension snapped, pleasure rolling through you in shuddering waves, your body trembling beneath his hold.

He groaned against you, like he was savoring every second, like he lived for this.

Only when you finally slumped back against the sheets, breathless and spent, did he pull away, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth.

"Sweetheart," he muttered, his voice thick with heat and satisfaction. "You taste so fuckin’ sweet when you come for me."

Your face burned, but you still shot him a glare. "Cocky."

Logan smirked. "Damn right."

Then he was on you again, lips crashing against yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His body pressed flush against yours, his jeans rough against your bare skin, and—

Yeah. He was still hard as hell.

"You got yours," you murmured against his mouth, reaching between you. "Now let me return the favor."

His breath stuttered as your fingers brushed against the hard length straining behind his zipper, but before you could do anything else, his hand caught your wrist.

"Not yet." His voice was rough, strained. "I need to be inside you first."

Your stomach flipped. He reached down, making quick work of his belt, his jeans, shoving them down just enough. You caught the briefest glimpse of him before he was lining himself up, the heat of him pressing against you.

"Fuck," he groaned as he pushed inside, slow, stretching you open inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt.

Your mouth parted, a soft, breathless moan slipping free at the feeling of him—full, deep, overwhelming in the best way.

Logan shuddered. "You feel so fuckin’ good, doll," he rasped against your ear.

Then he moved. A slow, deliberate pull before thrusting back in, setting a steady, deep rhythm. Every movement sent sparks through your system, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your breath coming in soft gasps.

Logan groaned, forehead dropping to your shoulder. "Fuckin’ hell, I missed this."

You clung to him, your body tightening around him in response. His pace faltered for half a second before he growled—and snapped his hips into you. A sharp cry tore from your throat, and Logan grinned. "That’s what I thought."

Then he really started moving. Deep, rough thrusts, dragging you higher and higher, your nails raking down his back as pleasure coiled tight again, building faster this time.

"Logan—"

"I got you," he muttered, voice wrecked. "Come on, sweetheart, let go for me."

You did. The pleasure crashed through you, your body trembling as you came around him, his name falling from your lips in a breathless moan.

Logan groaned, his thrusts turning erratic before he buried himself deep, his whole body tensing as he followed you over the edge.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, just tangled together, catching your breath.

"You’re heavy," you muttered, pushing weakly at his chest.

Logan huffed a laugh but finally rolled onto his side, dragging you with him.

"You love it," he muttered, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.

You snorted. "You wish."

He just grinned, pulling you closer.

---

You and Logan rarely have date nights. It was hard to find a quiet, empty space in the mansion that you knew no one was going to go into.

Let alone Scott letting you go out at night, even if you were 25.

But, tonight, you had a way around that. Rogue had already gone out with Bobby to the carnival that was in town which gave you a perfect excuse to leave the mansion.

You walked to the front door and barely put your hand on the doorknob when Scott’s voice rang out.

"Where do you think you're going?"

You froze, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral before turning around. "Carnival. Rogue and Bobby already went, so I figured I’d go check it out."

Scott crossed his arms, eyeing you suspiciously. "Since when do you like carnivals?"

You shrugged. "Since now." Scott frowned like he was trying to figure out what was off. You didn’t give him a chance to ask more questions. "You gonna let me go, or are we really about to have a whole interrogation over funnel cakes and rigged games?"

Before Scott could answer, Logan came strolling down the hallway, clearly on his way somewhere—until Scott turned to him.

"Logan, drive her."

Logan blinked. "What?"

Scott gestured toward you. "She’s going to the carnival. Drive her."

Your stomach flipped. You had to fight to keep the surprise off your face. This was perfect.

Logan’s expression didn’t change, but you knew him well enough to catch the slight twitch of amusement in his eyes. "Why?"

Scott gave Logan a flat look. "Because I don’t want her going alone."

"I can handle myself," you said quickly.

Scott ignored you, still looking at Logan. "Just drop her off and make sure she actually goes inside. Then pick her up when she’s ready to leave."

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "I’m twenty-five, Scott. Not fifteen."

"And yet, you’re still my little sister," he shot back.

Logan sighed like this whole conversation was exhausting. "Fine. C’mon, kid," he said, jerking his head toward the door.

You clenched your jaw at the nickname, knowing exactly why he used it in front of Scott. But you didn’t argue. Instead, you grabbed your jacket and walked past them, ignoring the smug look Scott gave you like he’d just ensured your safety for the night.

The second you and Logan stepped outside, he let out a low chuckle. "Well, ain’t this convenient?"

You shot him a look. "Don’t be smug."

"Too late."

---

The drive was quiet at first, just the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of Logan shifting gears. You knew Scott had probably expected Logan to drop you off, watch you go inside, then leave. But instead, Logan was taking the scenic route, driving further away from the carnival.

"You know, if Scott ever finds out about us, he’s gonna kill you," you said, watching the streetlights blur past.

Logan smirked, eyes still on the road. "Nah. He’s gonna try."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading in your chest betrayed you.

After a few minutes, Logan pulled into a small lot near a bar you both knew was usually quiet on weekdays. He killed the engine and turned to you. "So, what’s the plan, doll? We head in, grab a drink, then pretend you spent the whole night winnin’ stuffed animals?"

You smirked. "Something like that."

Logan leaned in slightly, eyes darkening. "Or… we could skip the drinks and find somethin’ else to do."

Your breath hitched, heart pounding. "Temptin’."

His smirk widened, but he didn’t push. Instead, he just reached for his door handle. "C’mon, let’s make this date look real."

You followed him inside, the warmth of the bar a stark contrast to the cool night air. It wasn’t crowded—just a few regulars, a couple playing pool in the corner, and a bartender who barely looked up as you both walked in.

Logan led you to a booth near the back, out of the way, and slid in across from you.

"So," he drawled, resting his arms on the table, "you gonna let me win you a giant teddy bear later?"

You snorted. "You? Win a carnival game? Please."

His eyes gleamed with amusement. "You doubtin’ me, sweetheart?"

You leaned forward slightly, a teasing smile on your lips. "I’m just saying… those games take skill. Precision. A soft touch. You’re more of a… smash things and ask questions later kind of guy."

Logan chuckled, shaking his head. "You got a real smart mouth, you know that?"

"Yeah, and you love it."

He smirked. "Damn right I do."

The bartender came by, and you both ordered drinks. Logan, of course, got whiskey. You opted for something lighter. As soon as the bartender walked away, Logan reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, slow and deliberate.

"Been wantin’ to do that all day," he muttered.

Your heart flipped. You curled your fingers around Logan’s, warmth spreading from the simple touch. He never did this at the mansion—not where anyone could see. But here, away from prying eyes, he was different.

"Yeah?" you murmured, teasing, but your voice was softer than you intended.

Logan’s thumb traced lazy circles against your skin. "Yeah." His eyes flicked up, locking onto yours, something unreadable in them. "Kinda hate sneakin’ around all the time."

You swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the weight behind his words. "I know."

He didn’t push, didn’t say anything else—just held your hand, like that was enough for now. And maybe it was.

The bartender dropped off your drinks, barely sparing either of you a glance. Logan finally let go, but not before giving your fingers one last squeeze.

You picked up your drink, taking a sip. "So, you actually gonna win me that teddy bear later, or were you just talking shit?"

Logan smirked, reaching for his whiskey. "Sweetheart, I ain’t losin’ to a rigged game."

"You sound awfully confident for someone who doesn’t exactly scream ‘hand-eye coordination.’"

Logan huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

"You’re the one dating me."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, but the smirk tugging at his lips said he didn’t mind one bit.

The two of you sat there, drinking, talking, stealing quick touches when no one was looking. It felt easy—like it was supposed to be like this all the time.

You didn’t know how long you stayed, but eventually, Logan leaned back in the booth, stretching his arms across the seat. "Time to make this date look real."

You raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"Meaning we go to the damn carnival, you let me win somethin’, and we make sure Summers doesn’t think you were out doin’ somethin’ reckless."

You smirked. "Technically, I am."

Logan snorted, throwing some cash on the table before standing up. "C’mon, trouble. Let’s get you a prize."

---

The carnival was packed, neon lights casting everything in a bright, chaotic glow. The scent of fried food, sugar, and asphalt filled the air, mixing with the hum of laughter and the occasional shriek from a nearby ride.

You walked beside Logan, your fingers grazing his every few steps, but neither of you reached out. Not here.

"Alright, hotshot," you said, stopping in front of a shooting game. "Let’s see if you’re actually as good as you claim."

Logan stepped up to the booth, rolling his shoulders like he was preparing for a fight. "You doubtin’ me?"

You crossed your arms, smirking. "I don’t doubt that you’re good at a lot of things, but precision? Patience? Not exactly your strong suit."

Logan just grunted, dropping some cash onto the counter. The guy running the booth handed him a plastic rifle, looking thoroughly unimpressed.

"You gotta hit all five targets," the guy drawled, popping gum in his mouth. "You miss one, you lose."

Logan spun the rifle in his hand like it was nothing, raising an eyebrow at you. "Watch and learn, sweetheart."

You huffed a laugh, but then—

Crack.

The first target dropped.

Then the second.

Then the third, fourth, fifth—so fast the guy running the booth barely had time to register it before the last one clattered down.

Logan set the rifle down with a smirk. "Told ya."

You blinked. "Okay. That was… impressive."

"You're damn right it was." He turned to the booth guy, jerking his head toward the line of stuffed animals. "Pick whichever one she wants."

You looked at the rows of plush toys, pretending to think before pointing at the most obnoxious, oversized teddy bear in sight.

Logan’s smirk faltered. "Really?"

"You said I could pick," you reminded him, grinning.

He muttered something under his breath but took the giant bear when the guy handed it over, tossing it at you. "Happy now?"

You hugged the ridiculous thing to your chest. "Very."

Logan shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You’re gonna be the death of me, doll."

You grinned, looping your arm through his as you walked. "Yeah, but what a way to go."

---

By the time you got back to the mansion, it was late. The house was mostly quiet, save for the faint murmur of the TV in the common room.

Logan parked in the driveway, shutting off the engine. Neither of you moved right away.

He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. "You know we can’t keep this up forever."

Your chest tightened. "I know."

Silence stretched between you for a beat. Then he spoke, "you worth the trouble, sweetheart?" Logan’s voice was softer, rough in a different way.

You turned to him, meeting his gaze. "You tell me."

His lips twitched, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he reached over, curling a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a slow, deliberate kiss.

It was different from earlier—less teasing, less rushed. Just warm, steady, like he was trying to say something without actually saying it.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a second before he exhaled and pulled away completely. "Go on. Before Summers comes lookin’."

You rolled your eyes but grabbed the stupidly large teddy bear and climbed out. As you walked inside, you didn’t have to look back to know Logan was watching.

---

"Jesus, sugar. That’s a big teddy bear," Rogue said, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed, smirking.

You flopped onto your bed, the ridiculous oversized bear landing beside you. "Yeah, well, I earned it."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did you? ‘Cause I got a feelin’ Logan earned it, and you just picked the biggest, most obnoxious thing you could outta spite."

You grinned, not even trying to deny it. "He said I could pick."

Rogue let out a snort and stepped inside, flopping down next to the bear and poking its fluffy face. "So, how was date night with our favorite bad decision?"

"Great, actually," you admitted, hugging a pillow to your chest. "We got drinks, he won me this monstrosity, and Scott still thinks I was eating funnel cake and riding the Ferris wheel all night."

Rogue let out a dramatic sigh. "That boy is so clueless, it’s almost sad." Then she shot you a look. "But you know he’s gonna find out eventually, right?"

Your stomach twisted, but you shrugged. "I know."

She tilted her head. "And?"

"And… we’ll deal with it when we have to."

Rogue studied you for a moment, then smirked. "You’re fallin’ for him."

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Instead, you grabbed the teddy bear and smacked her in the face with it.

She cackled, shoving it away. "Oh, sugar, you are so screwed."

"Shut up."

"Nah, I love this," she teased. "Big, bad Wolverine gettin’ all soft for little ol’ you. It’s cute."

"He is not—" You stopped yourself, because… yeah. He kind of was. At least with you.

Rogue grinned, smug as hell. "I bet he’s outside your window right now, just sittin’ there, all broody, waitin’ for me to leave so he can sneak in."

You rolled your eyes. "He’s not that predictable."

A faint tap at your window made you both freeze. Rogue's eyes went wide before she burst out laughing, smacking your arm. "No fuckin’ way."

You shot her a glare before pushing off the bed, crossing the room, and pulling the curtain back.

Sure enough, Logan stood outside, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. You cracked the window open just enough to whisper, "Are you serious?"

Logan just smirked. "You gonna let me in, or what?"

Rogue was still laughing behind you. "Oh, sugar, I’m never lettin’ you live this down."

---

“Where’d you get that necklace?” Jean asked, looking over the rim of her coffee mug.

You barely paused as you stirred sugar into your coffee. "Bought it for myself," you said, keeping your tone casual.

Jean hummed, watching you for a second longer before taking a sip. "It’s nice. Simple."

You nodded, fingers brushing over the small silver Earth pendant. "Yeah. Thought so too."

Across the table, Rogue smirked into her cup but said nothing. You could feel her amusement radiating off of her, but you refused to look at her. If you did, you’d probably give yourself away.

Jean, thankfully, didn’t press. She just shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "Well, good for you. You don’t usually wear jewelry."

You forced a small smile. "Guess I’m changing things up."

Rogue let out a quiet snort. You kicked her under the table.

Jean’s gaze flicked between the two of you, like she was debating whether or not to ask what that was about, but before she could, Scott walked in, yawning as he grabbed a cup of coffee.

"You training today?" he asked you, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Yeah," you said. "After breakfast."

Scott nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. He didn’t seem to notice the way Rogue was still fighting laughter or how Jean kept glancing at your necklace.

You exhaled quietly, focusing on your coffee. Crisis averted. For now.

---

Later that day, you found Logan in the garage, leaning against his bike, arms crossed as he watched you approach.

"You know," you said, stopping in front of him, "Jean noticed the necklace."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? You tell her?"

"Nope," you said, rocking back on your heels. "Said I bought it for myself."

He huffed a quiet laugh. "Smart girl."

You smirked. "I try."

Logan reached out, hooking a finger under the chain and tugging you closer. "Y’could’ve just told her the truth."

You gave him a look. "Oh, sure. ‘Hey Jean, thanks for noticing! My secret boyfriend who my brother would literally kill bought it for me. Cool, right?’"

Logan smirked. "I’d pay to see the look on Summers’ face if you ever actually said that."

You rolled your eyes. "You just wanna see him lose his shit."

"Maybe," he admitted, voice full of amusement.

You sighed, shaking your head. "You are such a menace."

Logan’s grip on the necklace tightened for a second before he let it go, letting his fingers trail lightly over your collarbone. "You still wearin’ it, though."

Your breath hitched slightly at the touch, but you kept your expression neutral. "Yeah. I like it."

His smirk softened, just a little. "Good."

For a second, you just stood there, his fingers still ghosting over your skin, the garage quiet except for the distant hum of voices from the mansion.

"You gonna let me take you somewhere tonight?" Logan asked, tilting his head slightly.

You raised an eyebrow. "Somewhere like…?"

Logan shrugged. "Just a ride. No missions, no Scott breathin’ down your neck. Just us."

Your stomach flipped. You hadn’t had much alone time with him outside of stolen moments in your room or hidden corners of the mansion.

You hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Yeah. Alright."

Logan’s smirk widened. "Good girl."

Your face heated, but you ignored it, turning on your heel before he could say anything else. "I’ll meet you out here at eleven," you called over your shoulder.

"Don’t be late, sweetheart," he said, and you didn’t have to look back to know he was grinning.

---

The night air was cool against your skin as you stepped off the mansion’s back porch, your pulse quickening with every quiet step. You stuck to the shadows, moving with practiced ease—this wasn’t your first time sneaking out. But it was always a gamble. Always a risk.

Still, that didn’t stop the thrill from curling low in your stomach.

Logan was already waiting by his bike, leaning against it with his arms crossed, cigarette glowing faintly between his fingers. He exhaled, watching you with that familiar smirk—half amused, half something darker.

"Took you long enough," he muttered, flicking the cigar away.

“I said eleven," you shot back, coming to a stop in front of him. "It’s eleven."

Logan glanced at his watch like he didn’t believe you, then shrugged. "Close enough."

You rolled your eyes, but before you could say anything else, he grabbed the helmet from the handlebars and held it out. You hesitated for half a second before taking it, slipping it on as Logan swung a leg over the bike.

"Hop on, doll."

You did, settling in behind him, your arms wrapping around his waist automatically. He was warm, solid beneath your touch, the scent of leather and faint cigar smoke clinging to him.

"You gonna tell me where we're going?" you asked, voice slightly muffled behind the visor.

Logan reached down, gripping your thigh just enough to make you feel it. "Nope."

Your stomach flipped. Before you could push for an answer, the engine roared to life beneath you, and then you were moving—tearing down the quiet backroads, the wind rushing past, the world blurring into streaks of light and shadow.

You didn’t ask again. You just held on tighter.

---

Logan didn’t stop until you were well outside of town, pulling off onto a secluded dirt path surrounded by thick trees. The headlights cast long shadows against the trunks as he killed the engine. The night settled around you, quiet except for the faint hum of crickets and the cooling tick of the bike.

You pulled off the helmet, shaking out your hair before looking around. "This is either really romantic or the start of a horror movie."

Logan snorted, stepping off the bike. "Guess that depends on your definition of romantic."

You smirked, handing him the helmet as you stood. "So? What’s the plan, tough guy? You bringin’ me out here to bury a body?"

He huffed a laugh. "Nah. Just figured we could use some real privacy for once." He jerked his head toward a break in the trees. "C’mon."

You followed him down a small path, stepping carefully over the uneven ground. After a few minutes, the trees thinned out, revealing a stretch of open sky and a lake shimmering under the moonlight.

Your breath caught for half a second. You hadn't expected this.

Logan glanced at you, catching the look on your face. "Not bad, huh?"

You crossed your arms, pretending to consider. "It’s alright, I guess."

He smirked. "Brat."

You grinned but didn’t argue. Instead, you kicked off your shoes and stepped onto the wooden dock that stretched over the water, feeling the worn planks creak under your weight. Logan followed, hands in his pockets as he leaned against one of the wooden posts.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The air was crisp, the reflection of the stars rippling over the water’s surface. It was quiet. Peaceful. Something you didn’t get much of at the mansion.

Then Logan’s voice broke the silence. "You ever think about leavin’?"

You blinked, turning to him. "What?"

He kept his eyes on the water. "The mansion. The team. All of it."

You frowned. "Why would I?"

Logan let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "Dunno. Just seems like sometimes you’re tryin’ to be somethin’ you ain’t."

You stared at him, caught off guard. "And what exactly do you think I am?"

Logan’s eyes finally met yours, something unreadable in them. "Someone who don’t belong in a cage. No matter how nice they make it look."

Your stomach twisted. You knew what he meant. The mansion was safe, sure. But it was also rules, expectations, eyes always watching. You’d built a life there. A good one. But was it really yours? Or was it just the one Scott expected you to have?

You swallowed, looking away. "And what about you?"

Logan tilted his head slightly. "What about me?"

"Do you ever think about leaving?" You asked.

A pause. "All the damn time."

Something about the way he said it made your chest ache.

You didn’t know what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything. Instead, you stepped closer, reaching for his hand. Logan let you take it, his fingers curling around yours automatically.

"You don’t have to stay, you know," you murmured. "If you really wanted to go."

Logan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Yeah, doll. I do."

Your throat tightened. You knew what he meant. He wasn’t staying for the team.

He was staying for you.

For a moment, you just stood there, his hand warm in yours, the lake stretching out endless and quiet beneath the stars.

Then, finally, Logan smirked. "This is gettin’ a little too sentimental. You wanna go for a swim or somethin’?"

You snorted, shaking your head. "It’s freezing."

"So?"

You rolled your eyes. "You go first, tough guy."

Logan didn’t hesitate. He kicked off his boots, shrugged out of his jacket, and before you could even process what was happening—

Splash.

You gasped as water sprayed onto the dock, the surface rippling wildly where Logan had disappeared. You stared at the disturbance for half a second before Logan popped back up, slicking his hair back with both hands. "Water’s fine."

"You’re a liar," you laughed.

Logan grinned, then suddenly shot out an arm—grabbing your ankle.

"Logan—!"

Too late.

You yelped as he yanked, throwing you completely off balance. The last thing you saw before you hit the water was his smug, grinning face. The cold was a shock—freezing against your skin, stealing the breath from your lungs as you surfaced, gasping.

"You asshole!" you sputtered, shoving wet hair out of your face.

Logan just laughed, the deep sound echoing across the water. "You deserved it," he said, treading water.

"You’re dead," you threatened, lunging at him.

Logan dodged easily, still grinning. "Gotta catch me first, doll."

Oh, it was on now.

You lunged again, cutting through the water as fast as you could, but Logan was quick—too quick. He moved just out of reach every time, smirking like the smug bastard he was.

"That the best you got?" he taunted, backstroking away like he had all the time in the world.

You narrowed your eyes. "You realize I have powers, right?"

Logan’s smirk widened. "Then use ‘em, sweetheart. Let’s see what you got."

Oh, he was asking for it. You didn’t hesitate. You focused, letting energy pulse through your limbs, giving yourself a boost as you surged forward. Logan’s eyes barely had time to widen before you tackled him, sending both of you under the water.

Bubbles rushed around you, the muffled sound of movement filling your ears as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, dragging him down with you. You knew he could hold his breath longer than you, but you weren’t planning on letting this turn into a real fight.

Instead, you twisted, using the momentum to flip him over so you were the one pinning him, hands braced against his shoulders. Even underwater, his smirk was there—amused, challenging.

You rolled your eyes and pushed off, breaking the surface first.

A second later, Logan popped up in front of you, shaking water from his hair. "Not bad," he admitted, voice rougher than usual from the cold. "Didn’t think you had it in you."

"Yeah, well, you underestimate me a lot," you shot back, treading water.

Logan’s smirk softened just a little. "Never."

Your breath hitched, pulse stuttering for a second, but before you could dwell on it, Logan moved—closing the distance between you in one smooth motion. His hands found your waist under the water, steady, warm despite the chill.

"You’re shivering," he murmured.

You rolled your eyes. "Because you threw me in a freezing lake, dumbass."

Logan huffed a quiet laugh, but instead of teasing you again, he just pulled you closer. The warmth of him was instant, the solid weight of his body pressing against yours. His hands slid up, fingers tracing along your ribs, your back. You swallowed, heartbeat thudding as his lips brushed against your temple, then down to the edge of your jaw.

"You wanna get out?" he murmured, voice low.

You nodded, but neither of you moved. Instead, Logan dipped his head, lips ghosting over yours, slow and teasing, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. Like he wanted you to.

But you didn’t. You closed the space, pressing your mouth against his, your fingers slipping into his wet hair as he kissed you back—deep, slow, like he had all the time in the world.

The water rocked around you, your bodies drifting, the night air cool against your skin. It was dangerous, reckless—standing there like this, kissing in the open where anyone could find you.

But you didn’t care.

Not tonight.

Eventually, Logan pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, "C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get you warmed up."

His smirk was back, but there was something else in his eyes now—something softer, something real.

You exhaled, nodding. "Yeah. Okay."

Logan didn’t let you go as he led you back toward the shore, his grip firm, steady. Like he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.

a few things - one, reader's powers are energy manipulation. two, i think it's in the next part, but reader has a degree in something nature/environmental related. it's not heavily described though. anyways, enjoy part 2!

❀ part 2 ❀

[theetherealbloom]

IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU - CH.9

Chapter Nine: The Silver Lining's I'll Be There With You

Summary: You find yourself sharing a hotel suite with Pedro Pascal while working on the set of Fantastic Four: First Steps. Despite your different roles—he’s the star, and you’re behind the scenes. Nothing could ever happen between you two… right?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F!Reader

Warnings: Age-Gap Romance (Not Specified), Eventual SMUT, Crush, FLUFF, Slight Angst, Trope(s), Swearing, Anxiety, Lots of Cliches, Cheesy Dialogue, Romance, Kissing, Real People Fiction, Cameras, Paparazzi, Social Media, Swoonworthy, One-Room Trope, They were roommates, Strangers-to-Lovers, Actors, Hallmark Tropes, the reader can sing and play guitar, the reader is shorter than Pedro, the reader has hair, Alternate Universe, Awkward!Reader, Shy!Reader, Fan Girl!Reader, Cringe, Embarrassment, Starstruck, Heavy Overthinking, Cecilia deserves her own warning lol, Confrontation,

Word Count: 4.7k

A/N: SOOO… lol, this is the longest I’ve gone without writing/posting, I deeply apologise and I’m so sorry T^T I literally had to lock the fuck in with school, each week I had at least two exams/deadlines. I blame our profs for their poor planning lol. Anyways, I have a little bit of a lighter load now since it’s almost finals season… I’ll keep ya’ll posted, and I humbly ask ya’ll to be patient for the next update and oh god, TLOU season 2… Uneven Odds… My backlog is insane right now, oh naur. Pedro babes I love you, but go on vacation boo. 

Side note: I’m dyslexic and English isn’t my first language! So I apologize in advance for the spelling and/or grammatical errors. As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated. Thank you and happy reading!

Song: Silver Lining by Laufey

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist |Main Masterlist|

PINEWOOD STUDIOS, LONDON — MORNING

You were hella nervous. Pedro held your hand the entire car ride to the studio, his thumb softly brushing over your knuckles, grounding you even as your stomach twisted itself into knots.

"You're quiet," he murmured, watching you from the corner of his eye. "You okay, baby?"

You forced a smile. "Yeah. Just… y’know. Nervous."

"About what?"

You shrugged, trying to play it off. "I dunno. Just… going back on set. Seeing everyone. After, y'know…"

The accident.

Pedro squeezed your hand tighter. His jaw clenched, and you could tell — he was still haunted by it too. The way you had thrown yourself in front of him. The way he had watched you collapse under the rig. The way he had screamed for help — like his entire world was falling apart.

"Hey." His voice was soft. "I'm not leaving your side, okay? The second you wanna leave — we leave. I don't care what anyone says."

And you believed him. God, you did. But there was still this gnawing pit in your stomach. Something you couldn't shake.

Because something still didn't make sense.

The rig was never supposed to fall like that.

The air in the studio felt wrong the moment you stepped inside.

Too still. Too watchful.

The crew was polite — too polite — but cagey. Their gazes flitted toward you, then away. Conversations hushed behind clipboards. Even your supervisor couldn’t meet your eyes. Something was off.

And Pedro… he never let go of your hand.

“Hey.” His thumb brushed against your knuckles, voice low. “You okay?”

You weren’t sure. Your stomach coiled, dread sinking deep into your bones. “Yeah. Just—”

“—Glad you could make it,” a voice interrupted.

You both turned.

Rob, the production’s safety manager, stood stiffly at the entrance. His face was a heavy mask of professionalism, but his eyes… there was something hard in them.

“Rob?” Pedro said, stepping forward slightly. “What’s going on?”

Rob’s jaw flexed. “We need to speak with you both. Privately.”

Your stomach flipped. “Both of us?”

A beat of hesitation. “Yes. It’s regarding the rig accident.”

Pedro’s grip on your hand tightened.

The meeting room was small and clinical. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, washing the walls in a cold, sterile glow. A long table stretched across the center, surrounded by a few empty chairs — and at the end of it, a large television screen.

You sat next to Pedro. His knee pressed against yours, grounding you — or maybe grounding himself.

“What’s going on?” you finally managed, trying to sound casual despite the dread in your throat.

Rob didn’t answer immediately. He set his clipboard down and exhaled heavily, gaze flicking between you and Pedro. We reviewed the footage from the accident. We also conducted a full inspection of the rig.”

Your chest tightened. “And?”

Rob hesitated, his throat working. “We found something.”

Silence dropped like a hammer. Your pulse pounded in your ears.

“What did you find?” Pedro’s voice was tight, protective.

Rob didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed a remote and clicked it. The television flickered to life.

And there it was.

The accident.

Your throat closed.

You watched yourself on the screen — laughing softly as you secured the cast into their harnesses. Pedro stood beside you, his hand resting on your shoulder as he said something that made you smile. The light rig swayed subtly above you, unnoticed.

And then—

It happened.

The exact moment the rig detached.

A sharp, metallic snap. Your body jolted, instinctively pushing Pedro out of the way as the light came crashing down.

Your mouth ran dry. Every muscle in your body seized.

“Wait—pause it,” Pedro rasped, his voice cracking. “Right there.”

Rob froze the footage. Pedro shot to his feet, pointing at the corner of the screen. “Zoom in.”

The image expanded.

And there — in the background — was someone.

Half-hidden behind a metal panel. But unmistakable.

“Cecilia,” you whispered, ice flooding your veins.

Pedro went rigid beside you. “What the fuck—”

She was watching you. Her gaze locked solely on you. And then — her hand moved.

A deliberate pull.

And that’s when the rig snapped.

“No.” Pedro’s voice broke, his entire body jerking back as though burned. “No — she—” His hand raked through his hair. “She did that on fucking purpose.”

You couldn’t breathe. “Why—why would she—”

And then Rob’s voice cut through. Low. Grave.

“…She wasn’t trying to kill Mr. Pascal.”

The room dropped into an unbearable silence.

Your head snapped toward Rob. “…What?”

Rob’s throat worked. “The investigation revealed the rig was deliberately tampered with during your lunch break. Cecilia was on set when no one else was. We believe she… adjusted the release on the rig.”

Your entire body went cold. “But it didn’t fall on me,” you rasped. “It— it almost hit him—”

“Because the timing was off.” Rob’s voice was heavy. “…It was meant to fall when you returned. She was waiting for you to get under it.”

Pedro’s hands were shaking. “You’re saying—”

“She was trying to kill her,” Rob confirmed grimly. “And when it didn’t happen — she didn’t react. She just… watched.”

Your stomach lurched.

Pedro stumbled back a step, his face ashen. “Where the fuck is she?” he demanded, voice raw.

“We have her in a separate room. Security’s questioning her now.”

Rob’s words sat heavy in the air.  

The room was suffocating. You could hear the hum of the air conditioner, the faint chatter from outside the closed door, the scratch of Rob’s pen against his clipboard. Everything felt too loud and too quiet at the same time.  

You exhaled slowly, trying to ground yourself.  

"I know she and I don’t get along…” you started, your voice unsteady. “But this is a lot.”  

Pedro’s head snapped toward you. His eyes—wide, dark, still brimming with the horror of what he just saw—searched yours like he couldn’t believe you were saying that.  

“A lot?” he repeated, voice tight. “A lot?”  

You swallowed.  

“Pedro, I—”  

“No.” He let out a humorless laugh, running a hand through his curls before gripping the back of his neck, his whole body strung tight with barely restrained fury. “She tried to fucking kill you. And you’re standing here acting like it’s just—what? Office drama?”  

Your stomach twisted. “That’s not—”  

“No,” he cut you off, stepping closer. “She planned this, waited for the right moment, rigged that thing to fall exactly when you’d be standing there—” He sucked in a shaky breath. “She watched it happen.”  

The words made your blood run cold.  

Because he was right.  

She had watched. You’d seen it in the footage—the way her head barely moved as the rig came loose, how she didn’t even flinch when it nearly crushed Pedro.  

If anything… it had almost looked like satisfaction.  

A chill ran down your spine.  

Pedro saw your expression shift, and his own softened just a fraction. He sighed, running a hand down his face before reaching for you again, his fingers sliding against yours.  

“Amor,” he murmured, his voice low and pleading. “You can’t downplay this.”  

You hesitated—but you didn’t pull away.  

“I just—” you licked your lips, eyes darting toward Rob. “I need to know why.”  

“Then let’s find out.” Pedro’s grip tightened. He looked at Rob. “I want to see her.”  

Rob hesitated.  

"Mr. Pascal, I don't think—"  

“We need to see her.”  

There was no room for argument.  

Rob exhaled sharply, glancing between you both before nodding. "Follow me."  

SECURITY ROOM — PINEWOOD STUDIOS

The moment you stepped inside, the air felt wrong.  

Cecilia didn’t look up at first. She just sat there, fingers tapping lazily against the metal table, the picture of boredom. But when the door clicked shut behind you, her lips curled into something sharp, something mocking.  

“Well, well.” She leaned back, exhaling a slow breath through her nose. “Look who survived.”  

Pedro’s hands clenched into fists.  

You swallowed hard, trying to ignore the way your pulse pounded in your ears. You had questions—you had so many questions—but standing in front of her, seeing the absolute lack of remorse in her expression, your stomach twisted into knots.  

“You were trying to kill me.” It wasn’t even a question.  

Cecilia tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with something twisted. “You make it sound so dramatic.”  

Pedro lunged.  

Security was on him before he could reach her, two guards stepping in to block his path. His breathing was ragged, shoulders heaving, but he didn’t take his eyes off her.  

“You tried to fucking kill her!” he spat, voice raw with barely restrained rage.  

Cecilia let out a soft, breathy laugh.  

And then she looked at you.  

The intensity of it made your stomach churn. There was something ugly in her gaze, something simmering beneath the surface.  

“Don’t act so shocked,” she mused, her voice sickly sweet. “You had to know I hated you.”  

You took a shaky step forward. “Why?”  

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, please.”  

“Why, Cecilia?”  

Her smirk dropped.  

And then—  

"Because you don’t belong here," she snapped.  

The air seemed to still.  

Pedro stiffened beside you.  

Cecilia leaned forward, her nails scraping against the metal table. "You’re nobody," she sneered. “Some random, awkward little nobody who just lucked her way into all of this.” Her eyes flicked to Pedro with something scathing. “And somehow, you have him wrapped around your pathetic little finger.”  

Your breath hitched.  

Pedro’s hand found yours, squeezing tight.  

She saw it. And laughed.  

"Oh, wow," she drawled. “That’s fucking hilarious.”  

You opened your mouth, but she cut you off.  

"You walk onto this set like you belong here, like you’re one of us—but you’re not." Her voice was venomous now, her eyes wild. “You think people don’t talk about you? You think we don’t see it? The way you cling to him like some shy, pathetic little puppy?”  

You flinched.  

Pedro stepped in front of you instinctively, his body a shield. “You don’t get to talk to her like that.”  

Cecilia rolled her eyes. "Look at you. Protecting her. It’s honestly nauseating."  

Pedro’s grip on your hand tightened.  

"Here’s what really pisses me off," she continued, voice low and sharp. "I worked my ass off to get where I am. I have connections, I have talent, I belong here. But you—" her lip curled "—some quiet, nothing of a girl, you get handed everything. People like you shouldn’t get to win."  

Your throat tightened.  

Cecilia sat back, exhaling through her nose. "So yeah," she murmured. "I wanted you gone."  

Silence.  

And then Pedro moved.  

Not toward her—but toward you. His hand came up, cupping the back of your neck, his thumb brushing softly against your jaw. His touch was gentle, but his voice was firm.  

“She’s everything you’ll never be,” he said quietly.  

Cecilia’s eyes darkened.  

Rob, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke. His voice was sharp, cold.  

“You’re done.”  

Cecilia blinked, her head snapping toward him.  

“Legal is handling the rest,” Rob continued. "You’ll be formally charged. The company will pursue legal action for endangering crew and tampering with safety equipment. And as for Mr. Pascal and Miss—”  

Pedro cut him off. “We’re filing charges too.”  

Your heart skipped.  

Cecilia laughed. "We’re?” Her eyes flicked to you. “Oh my god. You’re actually letting him do this for you.”  

Pedro didn’t even hesitate. "No," he said. “She’s not letting me do anything. I’m doing this because she deserves better.”  

Cecilia scoffed, but it was weaker now.  

Security moved in. "Time’s up," one of them muttered, gripping Cecilia’s arm.  

She didn’t fight them. Didn’t struggle. But as they led her out, she turned, eyes locking onto yours.  

And then she smiled.  

A chill ran down your spine.  

Pedro felt it. You knew he did—because his hand never left yours.  

Rob cleared his throat. "You two need to come with me. Legal will brief you on the next steps."  

Pedro nodded, already leading you toward the door.  

But your feet felt heavy.  

This wasn’t over.  

Not by a long shot.  

And somehow… you had a terrible feeling that Cecilia wasn’t done with you yet.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — LATER THAT DAY

To say the rest of the workday was exhausting was an understatement.  

The meeting with legal had been a blur—signing statements, reviewing footage again, going over protocol and next steps. There was so much red tape, so much legal jargon, that it all started to bleed together in your head.  

And then there was Cecilia.  

She was officially gone. Fired. Out of the studio.  

No one was exactly mourning her departure. In fact, you quickly realized that she hadn’t been all that liked to begin with. Crew members exchanged knowing glances, a few even muttering things like, “About damn time.” It was a strange kind of relief, knowing you hadn’t imagined the way she’d treated you—that you hadn’t been overreacting.  

Still, you couldn’t shake the sick feeling in your gut.  

There was something about the way she had smiled before she left.  

Like she knew something you didn’t.  

But you pushed it down. You had to. There was still work to be done, cameras to prep, lights to check. The show had to go on, and the last thing you wanted was to make everything about you.  

So you pretended.  

You focused on your job, gave polite smiles when necessary, forced your hands to steady when they trembled. If anyone noticed how stiff you were, they didn’t say anything. And if Pedro noticed—well.  

He was watching you.  

Constantly.  

Even as he ran through his scenes, even when he was talking to the director, even when he was across the damn set, you could feel it—his eyes lingering, his brow furrowed in quiet concern.  

And honestly? It was starting to make you nervous.  

So, during a break between shots, when he finally cornered you near the equipment table, you weren’t exactly surprised.  

"Are you okay?"  

You swallowed, forcing a small smile. "I’m fine."  

Pedro raised an eyebrow.  

Damn it.  

"I’m trying to be fine," you amended, shifting awkwardly under his gaze.  

He sighed. "You don’t have to try with me, you know."  

Your stomach twisted.  

Because that was the thing about Pedro—he was safe. You had known that since the moment you met him. It was in his voice, in the warmth of his touch, in the way he never pushed too hard, never made you feel like you had to be anything other than what you were.  

And that—that terrified you more than anything.  

Because what if you fell into that safety? What if you leaned too hard? What if you needed him too much?  

You bit your lip, glancing down. "I just... I don’t want to make this a big deal."  

Pedro was silent for a beat. Then—  

"But it is a big deal," he murmured.  

Your breath caught.  

Pedro reached out, his fingers ghosting over your wrist before he really touched you—slow and gentle, like he was giving you the chance to pull away.  

You didn’t.  

"Someone tried to hurt you," he continued, voice low, careful. "I need you to understand that I—" He broke off, his jaw clenching like he was trying to rein himself in. "I don’t take that lightly."  

You exhaled shakily.  

"I know," you whispered.  

His fingers tightened around your wrist, warm and steady.  

For a second, neither of you moved.  

And then—  

Someone called Pedro’s name from across the set.  

He swore under his breath but didn’t let go right away, his thumb brushing absently against your pulse.  

"We’re not done talking about this," he murmured.  

And before you could protest, he was gone.  

Leaving you standing there, heart racing, hands aching with the ghost of his touch.

PINEWOOD STUDIOS — EARLY EVENING  

The day dragged on like a ghost of itself.

After Cecilia was escorted off set and Pedro’s legal team assured you everything would be handled, you forced yourself to keep working. You were quiet. Careful. Mechanical. Going through the motions like a wind-up version of yourself.

People tried to be nice. Someone handed you a protein bar. Someone else asked if you were okay in that awkward, nervous way people do when they don’t know how to talk about something awful.  

You smiled. Nodded. Said, “Yeah. I’m okay.”

You weren’t.

By the time the lights dimmed and crew started packing up, the hum of the studio felt deafening. Pedro had been across the lot filming a short pickup scene—he’d looked back at you three times as he walked off, like he didn’t want to leave you alone, but you waved him on with a soft, forced smile. Told him you’d be fine.

You lied.

Because now you found yourself sitting on a lonely bench just outside the studio’s back lot, your arms wrapped tightly around yourself. The sun was low in the sky, casting everything in golden haze, but none of it touched the growing pit in your chest.

Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

You almost died.

He almost died.  

You didn’t even remember moving—your body just acted, just lunged toward him before the rig collapsed. You could still feel the heat of it brushing past your back as you shoved him out of the way. The sound of it crashing. Pedro yelling your name. The weight of it all hadn’t sunk in until now.

You sat there, heart pounding, staring at your hands like they belonged to someone else.

Then—Footsteps. Familiar ones. Heavy boots on pavement.

Pedro.

“…There you are,” he said softly.

You looked up too fast, eyes wide. He frowned when he saw your face.

“You said you were going to the parking lot,” he murmured, kneeling down in front of you instead of sitting beside you. “You’ve been out here alone?”

You nodded. Barely. “Yeah. I just… I needed a second.”

His gaze flickered over you, reading all the things you didn’t say.

“You’re not okay.”

You tried to smile again. Failed. “No.”

That one word cracked something open. Your voice wobbled. “I’m really not.”

Pedro didn’t say anything—he just reached for your hands, gently prying them from where they were clutched around your middle. His thumbs brushed your knuckles as he held them, grounding you with his warmth.

“I keep thinking,” you whispered, “If I was just a few steps slower—if I hadn’t looked up, if the timing was different… you could’ve been—”

“Hey.” He reached up, cupping your cheek. His voice was low and firm and steady. “But I wasn’t. You were there. You saved me.”

You blinked hard. Your throat tightened. “But you shouldn’t have been in danger in the first place. None of this should’ve happened. I don’t know how she—how someone I used to know—could hate me that much. It’s like… like I did something wrong just by existing.”

Pedro’s brow furrowed. His thumb brushed gently under your eye where a tear had slipped free. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “You’re not the problem, cariño. She is. Whatever’s broken in her, it has nothing to do with you.”

You dropped your gaze. “I’ve always been the weird one. The quiet one. The ‘who even let her in here?’ kind of girl.”

Pedro let out a breath like it hurt to hear you say that. Then he sat beside you, pulling you into his chest without hesitation. You didn’t even think—your body just curled into him like it was home.

“I don’t know who made you feel like that,” he said quietly, “but they were all wrong.”

His arms were wrapped around you tight. Solid. Safe.

“You belong here,” he whispered. “You’re good at your job. You’re kind. And brave. You didn’t even hesitate today. You didn’t think about it, didn’t flinch—you just moved.”

You felt the warmth of his breath against your temple.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life,” he admitted. “Watching that rig come down, seeing you throw yourself toward me—” His voice cracked, just a little. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you got hurt.”

Your heart thudded painfully at that.

You shifted slightly, your face still tucked against his shoulder, your voice small. “But I’m okay.”

“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “But that doesn’t mean it’s okay.”

Silence fell for a moment. But it wasn’t heavy this time. It was full of unspoken things. Of feeling.  

You pulled back just enough to look at him. He didn’t let go.

“…You really scared me too,” you whispered. “More than I expected. And I—I don’t think it’s just because I like working with you.”

Pedro’s eyes softened.

“You don’t?” he asked gently.

Your cheeks flushed. You glanced down, shy and awkward. “No. I think… I think I like you in the stupid romantic way.”

Pedro didn’t answer at first. Instead, he leaned in—slow, careful, giving you every chance to back away.

You didn’t.

And when he kissed you, it was soft. Warm. Like the sun finally touching your skin after a long, cold day.

He pulled back just enough to whisper, “That’s not stupid.”

You smiled, still tearful, still trembling—but for the first time all day, the weight on your chest felt just a little bit lighter.

CHILTERN FIREHOUSE HOTEL — EVENING

The car ride back to the hotel was quiet.

Not uncomfortable—just… full. The kind of silence that settles in after your body’s been wrung out by adrenaline and nerves. You stared out the window, your hands fidgeting in your lap. Pedro sat beside you, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your wrist with his thumb, like he needed to keep reminding himself you were still there.

He didn’t ask you anything. Didn’t push. Just stayed close.

By the time the keycard clicked and the hotel door swung open, your shoulders felt like they were being held up by thread.

Pedro locked the door behind you. You stood there for a beat too long, not sure what to do with yourself. Like you were suddenly a guest in your own body.

“Hey,” his voice came from behind, soft. “Why don’t you sit down, okay?”

You nodded, toeing off your shoes and sinking onto the edge of the bed. The moment your weight settled into the mattress, your spine curled forward. You didn’t cry. Didn’t break. Just sat there, small and still, trying to hold it all in.

Pedro crouched in front of you.

You didn’t realize your hands were shaking until he reached for them.

“Can I?” he asked quietly.

You looked up, eyes glassy, and gave the smallest nod.

He took your hands into his, warm and steady, his thumbs brushing slow circles over your knuckles.

“Pedro…”

He hummed, tilting his head slightly, eyes focused entirely on you. “Hm?”

You hesitated. Your heart fluttered in your chest—nervous, raw, still carrying the weight of everything that had happened. But his hands felt like an anchor. His eyes were kind and open and safe.

“Thank you,” you said softly. Barely more than a whisper.

His lips parted—just the smallest bit—and then curved into something achingly tender.

“Anything for you, mi amor,” he murmured.

Your breath caught.

The way he said it—it wasn’t casual. It wasn’t performative. There was no teasing lilt in his voice. It was soft and full of meaning, like every word had been carefully chosen. Like he meant it with his whole chest.

You tried to look away, but he was already watching you with that gaze that always made you feel like the most precious thing in the room.

“I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me,” you said quietly, your voice cracking just a little. “I’ve been weird all day, I barely said anything, and I just—there was this moment where I couldn’t stop shaking. I still feel like I can’t breathe right.”

Pedro didn’t respond right away.

Instead, he brought your hands up and pressed a kiss to your fingers, slow and reverent. Like you were something delicate and sacred.

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he said gently. “I know what today was. I saw what it did to you. And I saw how hard you still tried.”

Your throat felt tight.

“You didn’t shut down,” he continued. “You showed up. You protected me. And then you went right back to work like nothing happened. But sweetheart… that wasn’t nothing. That was a lot.”

Your lips trembled.

He let go of your hands just long enough to cup your face, his thumbs stroking along your cheeks. “You don’t have to be okay right away. I’m not going anywhere.”

“I didn’t think it’d affect me this much,” you whispered. “It’s just… I felt so stupid for freezing up earlier.”

“You weren’t stupid,” he said immediately. “You were brave. You were human.”

You looked down, unsure of what to say to that. You were still getting used to how he talked to you—like you mattered. Like your feelings were real and valid and worth holding space for.

Pedro tipped your chin up with a gentle finger. “Hey.”

Your eyes met his again.

“I mean it,” he said softly. “You don’t owe anyone a perfect reaction. You don’t owe me anything except exactly who you are.”

“I don’t know how to be that around you,” you admitted, cheeks burning. “I still feel like I’m tripping over my own feet when I talk.”

His smile turned playful—just for a second.

“I think it’s cute.”

You groaned, burying your face in his chest. “Don’t say that.”

He laughed softly, arms wrapping around you again.

“I’m serious,” he murmured into your hair. “You’re so hard on yourself, mi amor. But I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

Your heart fluttered painfully in your chest. You stayed like that, pressed close against him, letting his warmth sink into your skin like sunlight through linen. Your fingers curled into the hem of his shirt, and he held you like you were something he didn’t want to let go of.

Eventually, you pulled back just enough to meet his eyes again.

“Will you stay?” you asked softly.

Pedro’s expression didn’t even flicker. “Of course.”

“No, I mean…” You hesitated. “All night.”

He reached up, brushing your hair behind your ear. “You want me here?”

You nodded. “I feel safe when you’re here.”

His chest rose with a quiet breath, and then he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead—slow, lingering, warm.

“Then I’m staying,” he said simply.

And he did.

You both climbed under the covers a few minutes later, your back to his chest, his arms around your waist. He held you gently, like a promise. You were still a little shy, still unsure of how close to be—but when he murmured, “I’ve got you,” into your shoulder, something deep in you finally let go.

You fell asleep wrapped in his warmth, the world softening around you.

End Notes:

I know, it's not a super long chapter update, for that I am so sorry, but I swear the next one will be longer tehe!

Will they catch a break?!?! I dunno. There’s a lot of things that come with dating a celebrity… and soon enough, the public will find out. I’m sure it will be fine! ...Right?

Anyways, I apologize once again for the wait and thank you for your patience! See you soon 🤍

TAGLIST: @comfortzonequeen @christinamadsen @liciafonseca @greenwitchfromthewoods @iqr-x @southernbe @maryfanson @brittmb115 @taytay0403 @whimsiwitchy @zymiii @sarahhxx03 @leilanixx @lilasskicker-23 @https-murdock @barnescamboy @widowsvail @senhoritamayblog @morganlolitta @suzysface @reidsworld @xmaykeca @dontlookatme121 @mandaloriankait @picketniffler @pedrofan @mystickittytaco @enchantingchildkitten @seven-seas-of-fuck-you @ro-nahime-things @senhoritamayblog @hermionelove @ashhlsstuff @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @youusunshineyoutemptress @klajmekkk @aomi-nabi @churchofjoemiller @pascalitobarnes @ccmoonshine @its-different-for-girls66 @bunniboo0015 @kneelforloki @sarcasticamentegiulia @joelmillerpascal

[fastboatsmojito]

Bed Chem - Chef Luca x reader

| A/N; Apologies for taking longer than usual - the end of August got a little weird but we move !Apparently not a fan of writing long date scenes LMAO so this is mostly smut . With a dash of plot xoxo dry humping WILL save the world btw

| WC; 1k ish

| CW; 18+ smut BTC !!! Dry humping, nasty desperate freaks in general, I think that’s really all there is to it . No use of y/n and mostly non physically descript reader as per usual, enjoy <3

From this Req <33

——

Your date was incredible. The food was amazing, you both talked about your passions, where you grew up, everything you care about, it was perfect. After, he drove you back home and walked you up to your apartment.

“That was really nice, Luca. Thank you.”

“I think I should be the one thanking you. That was easily the most fun I’ve had since I got here and I love Chicago.”

Your face was warm as you took your key out of your bag, trying to ignore how nervous you felt under his gaze.

“Do you um,” You started, fumbling hands unlocking the door “wanna come in?”

You both paused for a second as the doorknob clicked open, eyes running over his expression as you anxiously awaited his response. “I’d like that.”

———

“So you already saw it a bit earlier but now you get the official tour.” He laughed softly at you throwing your arms out as you spoke.

“Honored.”

Once he had been introduced to all of your favorite plants and trinkets, sparing no detail, you were back in the living room. Half-full glasses of wine you ended up with before the tour was fully over in your hands as you sat together on the couch.

“You’ve really made this place your own.” He said, moving one of his arms to rest on the couch behind you.

“You basically just got an inside look at my brain, I hope you enjoyed.” You laughed softly before your eyes started drifting to the sight you’ve been avoiding all night - the glass that looked oh so small in his hand, getting lost in thoughts about what they might feel like on your neck, on your back, on your thighs, on your -

“You okay?” He questioned, your thought cut short as his voice floated through your brain, his head resting in his palm as he smiled at you.

You nodded, shifting in your seat. “Yeah I’m okay it’s just, it’s getting late so-“

He sat up and put his glass down, “Should I leave?”

Your hand moved to his wrist absentmindedly to keep him from standing, quickly taking it away when he turned to look at you.

“No, no. It’s actually supposed to rain soon, I think it’d be better if you just stayed. You can sleep on the couch or- wherever you want.”

You scrambled through the words, talking as fast as the thought came before taking a sip from your glass to ease your obvious nerves.

His breath hitched at the sudden touch, “Are you sure? I can just-“

You interrupted him, getting up to take your glasses to the sink and smiling at his considerate words.

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wanted you to leave, Luca. I’ll grab you some pillows and a blanket.”

You were gone before he could protest, quickly changing into your comfiest nightgown and grabbing some extra bedding from the closet. You walked back into the living room and let him get comfortable on the couch as you got him some water.

“I’ll just be in the other room if you need anything.” You muttered before moving to walk back to your room, pausing when you felt his hand on your arm followed by your name. You turned around to him standing behind you, close enough to surprise you.

“Thank you, by the way. I’ve had a really nice night as well. You’re really.. genuine. I appreciate that.”

You weren’t sure who started it, it didn’t matter, really. Your lips were suddenly on his own and his hands were moving to your waist to drag you to the couch with him.

Soft and slow, his hands stayed gripping your waist as you sat on his lap, bodies and mouths blurring into each other.

Your silky nightgown had ridden up just under your hips, bare thighs soft against the rough fabric of his pants. Your hands were all over him as you tried to pull yourself into him further. Your warm, cotton-cloth covered heat drifting just over the seam of his pants, causing a soft sigh to fall from both of your mouths into the others.

You were mindlessly dragging your hips over him as his hands moved down your thighs, the silk of your nightgown following his hands as he slowly brought them up, up, up just over your belly button before dragging them back down, down, down to your thighs. Over and over again, pulling away from your lips just before his hands moved back down again to look at you, foreheads pressed together.

“You’re incredible.” For a second you thought you’d imagined it, the soft whisper into your mouth before it was replaced with the slow caress of his tongue over yours.

The feeling of his hands was maddening.

A velvety moan fell from your mouth when he spread his legs and sat you right over his thigh. He kept the silky fabric at your waist with his hands as you tried to stay still, biting your lip while you moved your head to rest on his shoulder.

“Luca,” It was more of a whine than you meant it to be, uncomfortably wet underwear that he could probably feel through his jeans making you dizzy as his grip on your waist tightened.

One of his hands moved to the back of your head, turning his head so he could kiss your neck. “What do you want, hm?” You were squeezing his thigh roughly between your own, desperate for any form of friction. A soft moan was dragged out of you when he nipped at your pulse point.

“Tell me.”

Your brain felt like a cotton ball just trying to remember your own name was torturous, taking a moment to catch your breath before responding.

“I want- I need you, Luca.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, hand moving to caress your cheek with his thumb.

“Yeah?” You nodded into his hand as the one on your waist moved to your back, pressing into you. “You got me.”

He flexed his thigh just as you as you gave up and started grinding into him, hands grasping at his arms and shoulders to steady yourself on top of him. His hands were back on your waist, helping you keep a steady pace as he watched you intently.

“God I knew- I knew you’d be good.” Your voice was breathy, closing your eyes halfway through your words.

He was attentive, listening to the sweet sounds you made when his hands moved to all your favorite places, mapping out what you find most pleasurable.

“You think about it a lot?”

You hummed in response, smile creeping onto your face as you thought about your date. “At dinner earlier, you fixed my dress- when we were walking in. You were just being sweet but, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I really haven’t stopped thinking about you since we met.”

He groaned into the side of your neck at your confession, hands eagerly pulling you into him faster. It’s absolutely filthy how desperately you’re moving over him, humping his leg like a dog in heat. It’d be embarrassing if he wasn’t just as bad, open mouth practically drooling over your neck as your nails dug into his shoulders.

“Fuck- you’re killing me. Let me help you, you want to cum on my thigh, baby? Come here.” You were just about to protest that you were as close as you could get when he moved his hands to the waistband of the soaked fabric separating you.

——

god . I really don’t know why this took me so long to write I was just trying to make it more drawn out but I actually like it a lot better like this 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

[stevie-petey]

episode seven: the bite

“Yeah, we ended up trapped in their secret base underneath Hawkins.” Dustin further explains, to which everyone’s eyes widen at.  “It was fun. Spent my birthday in mortal danger.” At the same time the kids all wish you a belated birthday, which you salute them for. “Thanks, guys. I’m just happy I wasn’t gravely injured this time.” “And that Steve finally kissed you.” Dustin unhelpfully adds before Steve is covering his mouth to shut him up. His face reddens, embarrassed and nervous. Jonathan is standing too close to him for comfort right now.

Summary: steve and robin are your nightmare blunt rotation, you manage to escape a russian lair: mario cart style, you learn that therapy sessions are fun in public bathrooms, steve places your brother on the russian fbi most wanted list, el probably just killed a bunch of people (deserved), and reunions with jonathan are always special when one of you is gravely injured

Rating: general, cursing

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, mentions of blood, graphic depictions of blood and gore, cursing

Words: 10.1k

Before you swing in: HI IM ALIVE !!! my laptop isnt ,,,, but im trying to ignore that. sincerely apologize for the wait. my laptop shits down randomly every ten minutes and my new one is backordered so ive been fighting demons to write this. i also had a hard time with the bathroom scene with robin. i wanted to get that scene just right. it took a lot of rewriting, but i think im happy with how it ended up <3 pls enjoy this child of mine. she cost me blood, sweat, and tears lmao

-

“Boop!” Steve’s finger pokes your nose and he lets out a delirious giggle. “I booped you!”

At first it was adorable, endearing even, when he booped your nose. However, he’s done this five times now in the last minute alone. That, and you’ve been trying to give Dustin directions back to the elevator while dodging Steve’s surprisingly aggressive nose boops. All while the threat of armed Russians running after the cart looms over you. “Turn left here–would you stop it?”

“Wanna boop that pretty little nose,” Steve’s glossy eyes struggle to find yours, his motor skills delayed and concerning. His left eye has all but swollen shut and you’re still not sure if his unusual behavior is due to head trauma or something else. “C’mere, angel.”

He tries to boop you again, and before you can dodge the attack, Robin’s hand grabs his finger and she lets out a pathetic scoff. “You’re hogging the boops, dingus!”

“Nuh uh!”

“Yeah huh!”

Steve’s arm reaches over you and he bats at Robin. They start to hit one another, though their movements are slow and weak. They giggle as they fight, and you’re stuck in the middle of it. You try to push them off of you, but the two teens are too busy pinching each other and cackling to pay you any attention. It’s miserable. 

Erica, from the passenger seat of the cart, turns and winces at your predicament. “What is wrong with them?”

“I don’t know!” Dustin keeps his eyes in front of him as he drives, though he’s equally as confused and unnerved. Secretly, he’s glad he’s the one driving. Otherwise he’d be in the middle of a Steve and Robin giggle sandwich like you are.

“Whose hand is that?” You twist around. There’s a foreign body part that’s currently resting on your ass. Steve snickers and Robin puffs out her cheeks and giggles, neither one of them confessing. You’re about to start kicking shins when the cart comes to a screeching halt. The force of it throws you and the two teens back with a painful thud. “Christ!”

“You guys alright back there?” 

Somehow you wind up with Steve’s elbow in your ribcage and Robin’s head smacking into yours. Hissing in pain, you throw the two off of you and glare at your brother. You seriously fear the day he gets his license. “I want to die.”

Dustin turns back around in his seat and gulps. Steve’s and Robin’s own groans of pain can be heard from behind him. “They’re fine.”

Sneakers squeak against the tile floor and the doors to the back of the cart fly open. You’re greeted with Erica and Dustin, eyes wide as they take in the scene before them. You’re squished underneath the teens. You try shoving them off of you again, but they’re dead weight on you. 

“Wanna kiss again, Y/N? I really liked it,” Steve smacks his lips as his head rests against your stomach. “Wanted to do that for so long.”

Your cheeks burn at his words and your stomach flutters. You haven’t forgotten about the kiss earlier. God, you haven’t. It leaves you breathless every time you remember how it felt to have him so close, to smell him and taste him. A part of you wants to ask how long he’s thought about kissing you, but you know that the back of a cart while fleeing from Russians isn’t the most appropriate setting. 

Robin squirms next to you, her head also somehow on your stomach, pinning you down. “Can I get a kiss too?”

“If either one of you kisses me right now, my knives will be the last things you see.” The two teens make despaired noises, which you groan at. Meanwhile, Dustin and Erica continue to stand at the end of the cart, unmoving. You clench your teeth. “A little help here?” 

Dustin mumbles a sheepish apology and yanks Steve’s arm while Erica yanks at Robin, freeing you. As soon as you’re able to, you jump out of the cart and start clapping your hands to speed everyone along. “We gotta go!”

“We’re trying, Y/N!” Erica groans, struggling to get Robin up from the ground. 

You start to help, though you nearly fall when Dustin throws Steve against you. A complaint lingers on your lips, but when you see that your brother is now at the elevator doors with a keycard in his hand, you swallow it down.

Steve, however, is full of complaints. “This sucks.”

You blow hair out of your face and don’t bother responding to him. Instead, you watch anxiously as your brother swipes the key card he must’ve stolen earlier. When the scanner’s light flashes green and opens the elevator door, you exhale with relief. At least something has gone right today. 

After practically throwing Steve and Robin into the elevator with Erica’s help, Dustin hits a button and closes the door. As soon as it shuts, the room starts to move. You brace yourself, now familiar with how fast the damn thing can go.

The elevator ascends at a nauseating speed and there’s a crash behind you. Turning around, you find Robin holding a dolly in place as Steve gets on. He holds his hands out and starts to cheer as his friend snickers. They look like goddamn toddlers at daycare.

“Hey, no!” You feel like a parent, yanking at Steve’s arm to get him down from the dangerous position. The elevator is moving too fast to be messing around on. “This isn’t playtime–”

“He looks like he’s surfing, Y/N!” Robin squeals with excitement, rolling the dolly to the left.

Steve’s body twists and he steadies himself with a laugh. “I’m surfing!”

“Stop fucking surfing!”

You fight with the teens. Steve refuses to get down and Robin keeps rolling the dolly away from you. As you yell at them, Dustin and Erica exchange concerned looks. You overhear the girl mention how they seem drunk, and you’re about to tell her that she might be right, when Robin pulls the dolly from underneath Steve and sends him crashing into the ground. 

“Wipeout!”

You’re checking Steve for injuries as soon as he lands. Dustin kneels next to you and feels his forehead and winces. “He’s burning up.” 

Not liking the sound of that, you check Steve’s pupils. The room’s lighting is dim, but it’s obvious that his brown eyes are almost entirely taken over by the blacks of his pupils. “Holy shit, they’re scarily dilated.” 

“Ow. Thought you liked my eyes,” Steve swats at your hands sadly. He whines, trying to get you to let go of him. “Said you liked brown.”

“I do like brown, but I also like when you don’t act like a three year old.” You soothe him before turning to Dustin. “Any idea what it could mean?”

“Maybe he’s drugged?” Erica suggests.

You frown. “Could explain why he keeps trying to–” Steve reaches up and boops Dustin’s nose. He giggles and your brother looks annoyed. Sighing, you finish what you had been trying to say. “Boop people. Why he keeps trying to boop people.”

“Your turn, angel!”

Dustin intercepts Steve’s finger, which you’re grateful for. He gently smacks the teen’s face to get his attention. “Steve, are you drugged?”

“How many times, dad?” His voice drips with sarcasm and he rolls his eyes. “I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.”

“Since when do you smoke?” 

“Y/N, focus.” Dustin dodges another incoming boop and swats Steve’s hand away. “This isn’t funny, okay? We need to know what they did to you.”

“C’mon, honey.” Your fingers run through Steve’s hair. Parts of it have dried blood. Something more than a beating happened to him and Robin, you just don’t know what. If they’re really drugged, you have no way of knowing if they’ll be okay, and a part of you is terrified. “Work with us, please. What did they give you?”

“Are you gonna die on us?” Dustin asks, concerned as well.

“I’ll tell you!” Robin shouts from the corner she’s slouched in, eager to please you. She twirls her hair around her finger and gives you an unsettling smile. “We all die, my strange little child friend. It’s just a matter of how… and when.”

Neither you nor Dustin say anything for a few moments. Both of you blink, trying to process what exactly the teen has just said. Afraid to look away from her in case she tries to possess you or something, you slowly nod. “Okay, thank you for sharing, Robin.”

She flashes you a thumbs up and proudly smiles. “Happy to help!” 

“They’re gonna be looking for us up there,” your brother redirects the attention back to the fact that you’re all still very much in danger. He starts to interrogate Steve, trying to come up with a plan. “So I need you to tell me where you parked your car.”

“Oh, can we make a pit stop at the food court?” Steve’s eyes glaze over and you know you’ve lost him again. 

Robin leans forward and starts playing with your hair. “I would kill for a hot dog on a stick!”

You snap your fingers at the two of them. They’re impossible to level with, you’re not even sure why you’re still trying. “Guys, we need to focus.”

“No! No hot dog on a stick,” Steve suddenly lifts himself up and glares at Robin. “The guy at the counter said that Y/N she has pretty eyes. He’s an asshole.”

“You mean Dave? When the hell did he say that?”

Steve scoffs at you. “Last week. Ruined my whole day.”

“Fine! We’ll get you and Robin something else to eat.” Dustin says, which Robin cheers at, though he ignores her. “But only if you tell me where your car is parked.”

Suddenly Steve’s hazy eyes fill with remorse. “Uh-oh.”

“Uh-oh? I don’t like uh-oh, can we not uh-oh?” Dustin nudges you with his shoulder to shut you up and let Steve explain. You mumble an apology. “Okay, why the uh-oh?”

“They took the keys.” Steve shoves his hands into his pockets and reveals that there’s nothing in them. “The Russians, they took the keys. Like forever ago.” For some reason this is hilarious to Robin, who starts to laugh hysterically in the corner. He joins her, amused by the whole thing. “That’s a bummer, right?”

You drop your head in your hands as Dustin sighs. With no keys and no way out of the mall, you’re not sure what else you can do. The only other option would be the bus that takes commuters home, but it comes every few hours and you have no idea what time it even is right now. 

Which means you’d be left with having to hide a very drugged up Steve and Robin in a giant mall swarming with Russian undercover guards for an unforeseen amount of time.

Not ideal. 

“We’re doomed.” You sigh into your hands.

Dustin nods beside you. “Yeah. We’re doomed.”

– 

When the five of you finally reach the mall, you guide everyone through the back hallway and fling the doors open. Fresh air hits your face and you take a moment to inhale. It’s only then that you notice that it’s dark outside. The air is warm, crickets chirp faintly from far away. What day is it? How long could you have possibly been down in the lair? 

As you have a minor breakdown trying to get your bearings, Steve and Robin walk behind you. Their mouths are wide open as they greet the fresh air with glee. “Oh my God, that tastes so good! Steve, can you taste the air?”

They stick their tongues out and marvel at the world around them. “I taste it!”

You watch them with your arms crossed. If you had any suspicion before that they were drugged, seeing them try to eat the air only confirms it. 

“Shit!” Dustin screams out of nowhere and grabs your hand. He tugs at you to start running. You look up and see two Russians men now running straight towards you. 

“Come on!” You grab Erica’s hand and shove her in front of you to run alongside your brother. Then you grab Steve and Robin by their shoulders and all but throw them against the mall’s door. “Go!”

“Why are we running?” Steve mopes, tired from all the physical activity he’s been forced to endure these last few minutes. 

You don’t bother answering him and instead shove him inside the second Dustin gets the mall’s doors opened. Everyone runs, though you’re not sure if anyone has an actual plan. The guard’s footsteps can be heard behind you, and all you know is that you guys need to hide until you can figure something else out. 

“Any chance you guys know any hiding spots?” You shout behind you to the kids, nearly tripping over your feet as you do so.

“No, this mall is one giant public swamp.” Dustin responds, huffing. 

Steve stumbles next to you, still obviously drugged up, yet giggling as always. “It feels like we’re running from movie villains!” 

Turning a corner, what Steve has said floats through your mind. Running from movie villains… What are the odds the Russians know about American movie theaters? They’re dark and usually crowded with people for night showings. It could be the only safe place to hide. 

“Dustin, start heading towards the theater!” Erica and your brother start asking you questions, but you don’t have time to explain. “Just trust me.”

Somehow you all make it to the theater’s doors without being detected. Poking your head through, you make sure there isn’t anyone nearby. When you’re sure it’s safe, you open the door wider and motion for everyone to follow. “Let’s go.”

Dustin guides, dragging Robin behind him while Erica follows. You stay with Steve and start walking once the others have gone ahead. 

“Awesome, movie date!” Steve exclaims with a dopey smile. He’s about to say something else when his eyes find something. Completely forgetting that you’re holding his hand, he runs towards a nearby trash can. He pulls out a bag of popcorn that had been on top of the trash pile and quickly starts shoving the food into his mouth. 

“If you ever wanna kiss me again, stop eating trash popcorn.” You snatch the bag out of his hands with a disgusted face. “I cannot believe I have to tell you that.”

“But I’m hungry.” Steve pouts, staring down at his now empty hands with despair. 

You ignore his pathetic pouting and follow Dustin, who has now flung open the curtains to the theater’s seats. He scopes the area and starts heading right. When he stops at two open seats, he points his finger at Steve and Robin. “You two, sit.”

“But these seats are too close!” Robin complains, and Steve voices his own qualms about the seating arrangements. 

However, you have other things to worry about. Shoving the teens into their seats, you wipe away crumbs on the ground with your shoe. “I’ll sit on the floor next to them. No way I’m leaving them alone when they’re high off their asses.”

Dustin looks at you, skeptical. He doesn’t want to leave you alone with them, afraid they’ll somehow get you into trouble. “You sure?”

“Positive. I’ll take care of them.” you squeeze his arm. While you understand his concern, you can’t bring yourself to abandon Steve and Robin again. Not when Steve’s face still bleeds slightly and Robin’s cheek swells with a bruise. They got hurt because of you; the least you can do is stay with them now. “Find other seats, we’ll be fine here. Just… be careful, alright?”

A man behind you shushes you rudely, reminding you where you are. If the kids don’t leave now, they run the risk of drawing more attention. You push your brother back up the aisle of seats, and he seems to understand what you’re doing. “Fine, but whatever you guys do: Don’t. Go. Anywhere.” 

“Fine, dad.” Steve glares at the kid, which you sigh at. It’s going to be a long night. 

Dustin leaves after you’ve saluted him, and Erica follows. Once they’re gone, you do your best to keep Steve and Robin quiet. As you shush them, you look up and see Dustin standing near the exit. You tilt your head, hoping he sees your questioning, and thankfully he does. He holds his radio up and mimes making a phone call. 

He’s calling for help.

You nod at Dustin, indicating that you understand, and he leaves. After you’ve checked to make sure Erica is still in her own seat at the other end of the row, you turn back towards Steve and Robin; they’re enamored with the movie playing. They whisper to themselves, not understanding what’s happening, but at least they’re quiet and out of danger. Slowly, you start to relax. 

All you have to do is stay in this movie theater until Dustin can contact the party for help. Should be simple enough. Except you make the fatal mistake of absentmindedly mentioning that you’re thirsty. “God, I need water right now.”

“Water.” Robin exhales as if it’s a prayer. Her entire face twists into longing and she hits Steve’s shoulder. “Water. Now.”

“On it!” He nods earnestly and suddenly the two of them are scrambling out of their seats. You snap your fingers at them, hiss whispered threats, but they don’t listen. They climb over you as if you’re an inconvenient bug on the ground. 

Before you can even stand up, they’re already halfway up the aisle of seats. You barely have time to get up before they’ve left the theater itself. “I’m so over them being drugged.” You huff, running after them. There isn’t time to tell Erica where you’re going, too afraid you’ll lose them if you don’t hurry. 

Those fuckers better save you some water.

– 

Steve makes you hold the button on the water fountain because he “can’t do it himself”.

“Is my help really necessary?” You complain, arms crossed as you watch Steve messily gulp water down. His neck is bent at an awkward angle and for a brief moment you truly question whether or not you find him attractive. Water drips down his chin and his gulps are obscenely loud. 

“Yes,” Steve responds in between slurps. The cold water washes over him and he’s never felt closer to God than in this moment. “That’s amazing.”

Robin stands next to you, patiently waiting her turn. “So like, I wasn’t totally focused in there or anything, but I’m pretty sure that mom was trying to bang her son.”

“In the movie?” You hadn’t been paying much attention in the theater. Your view from the ground was shitty and you were too busy making sure the idiots didn’t somehow kill themselves. However, despite your lack of attention, you doubt that’s what the movie’s premise had been about. 

“Wait, the hot chick was Alex P. Keaton’s mom?” Your hip knocks against Steve’s, causing him to choke on the water he’d been drinking. Coughing, he clutches at his chest. “I could’ve died, Y/N!”

“Sorry,” you smile sympathetically at him, feigning pity. He lost the privilege of calling other women hot after getting you locked in a Russian elevator for twelve hours. “My hip slipped.”

“Aren’t you two going to question how the guy was able to go back in time?” Robin is still focused on the whole son being in love with his mom plotline. 

Steve inhales even more water. “Then why is it called Back to the Future?”

Robin begins explaining the complexities of the movie, but you tune her out. While you appreciate that she’s trying to make conversation, you’re uneasy about being out in the open like this. There’s no one around, but you can never be too careful. It’s only when she shoves Steve away from the water fountain that you focus again. 

“Wait, I was supposed to go after him–” Your protesting falls on deaf ears as Robin steals your turn for water. Reluctantly, you step away. She can hold her own damn water fountain button. 

You notice that Steve has wandered off a few feet away. He still stumbles as he walks, though his footsteps aren’t as unsteady as they were earlier. He stops in the middle of the walkway and you join him. 

“Wow,” he breathes out, looking up. He’s mesmerized by what he’s seeing. Curious, you look up as well, though you only see the skylights above. It’s night, no natural light flows through the panels. Yet Steve stands transfixed next to you. “The stars.”

“The stars?” You’re not sure what he means. You can’t see the stars from where you stand. Then again, you suppose he could be seeing things, given that he’s heavily drugged up. 

“The stars are pretty like you, angel.” Steve says, eyes still on the sky, yet his hand somehow finds yours. He intertwines your fingers together and is able to pull you closer, albeit weakly. “You’ve always been so beautiful… scared me when we were younger.”

Your breath catches and you look at him. He’s looking up, seemingly unaware of the effect his words have on you. An overwhelming warmth fills your chest. You want to say something, tell him you love him and that his beauty last July had terrified you. 

But you don’t say anything. Steve is still high, he wouldn’t remember what you’ve said, and you want your confessions to sit within his chest the way his sit in yours. Instead, you find yourself admiring him. You study the length of his neck. The mole that rests just below his jaw and the others that litter his pretty face. His nose, the dip of his chin. The hair tucked behind his ears. His eyes.  

Steve Harrington is beautiful. Scars and all. 

Then he starts to gag and quickly the moment is ruined. 

“Oh, God.” You quickly grab his shoulders and frantically look for the nearest bathroom. In your haste, Robin reacts to Steve’s sudden sickness by gagging as well, and you’re very afraid of what’s about to unfold. “Okay, bathroom time! For the love of God, we need to find a bathroom.”

They’re useless as you twist and turn them around as you search for a bathroom. When you see a nearby sign, you drag them behind you and pray that they make it the next fifteen feet. As soon as you barrel through the bathroom door, Steve and Robin run out from behind you and just barely make it to the toilets before spilling their guts. 

You stand near the doorway, cringing. It’s not a pretty sight. 

They puke, spit out the excess, and flush the toilet to clear it before the next round of vomiting begins. Then they do it all over again. It goes on like this for a while, and all you can do is linger in the doorway and offer halfhearted comfort from across the room. You’ve never really gotten over your slight fear of vomit, if you’re being honest. 

Eventually Steve and Robin seem to throw everything up. When they’ve flushed the last of their sickness down, you hesitantly walk towards them and stand in between the stalls. “We feeling any better?”

“The room stopped spinning for me.” Robin says, her feet propped against the stall’s wall. You have no idea how she’s laying down the bathroom’s ground so casually. “Steve, is it still spinning for you?”

He looks up for a moment, testing what will happen. When he feels perfectly fine, he exhales with relief. “Holy shit. No.”

“You probably flushed the drugs out of your system when you puked.” You observe, leaning against the stall’s divider. “What were you guys on?”

“Allegedly a truth serum.” Robin says from the floor. “Ask me something, test if it’s really all gone.” Then, because she’s trying to get you to laugh, she lowers her voice and impersonates one of the Russians. “Interrogate me.”

Though you smile at her, your stomach twists. Not only were they beaten for information, they were also injected with a goddamn truth serum. Treated like lab rats. And you left them behind, all alone; you’ll never forgive yourself for that. 

But they’re here with you now, you remind yourself. They came out the other side. So you’ll do whatever you can to make it up to them and show them that you’re here for them. Even if that means asking bizarre questions to make sure they’re no longer being controlled by truth serums. “When was the last time you peed your pants?”

“Today.”

Steve looks at you to make sure you’ve also just heard Robin’s response. “What?”

You shrug. “I can’t really judge. I peed my bed a few years ago. Watched a scary movie with Dustin and had a nightmare. Wasn’t my proudest moment.”

“What?” Steve can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“See!” Robin lifts her head up from the ground to look at you. “I was also scared. When the Russian doctor pulled out a bone saw, it was only a little bit, but holy shit.”

She starts to laugh and you join her, despite the image of the bone saw you saw burning your mind. You had seen it in the room when you were saving them. It had terrified you. Yet Robin laughs about it now, so you allow yourself to as well. 

Steve shakes his head at you both. “Yeah, it’s definitely still in her system.”

“And it’s not in yours, Harrington?”

His eyes shine when he looks at you. He’s coming back to himself, you can feel it. The knowing smirk is back. “Clean as a whistle, Henderson.”

Robin clears her throat, now uncomfortable. “Aright, my turn. I want to ask him a question.” When Steve gives her the okay, she takes a deep breath. She looks at you, a resigned look on her face. Something seems to have struck her, something that terrifies her. Her laughter is gone. “Have you… ever been in love?”

Steve doesn’t expect the question. He looks startled by it and tilts his head up at you. Your eyes meet, and you nod, giving him the permission he doesn’t truly need. You talked about it once, last year. The two of you in your room late one night, whispering confessions about love and the pain it brought. It was never a secret. 

“Yep. Nancy Wheeler. First semester, senior year.” Steve mimes a gunshot to his heart, trying to lessen the unease. He will never really feel comfortable talking about that time of his life. 

“Oh, my God.” Robin rolls her eyes. “She’s such a priss.”

You walk over to her stall and nudge her leg with your shoe. “Hey, she’s my friend, ya know.” Ignoring how dirty the bathroom floor inevitably is, you sit next to Robin. “She’s not a priss.”

“At least, not really.” Steve adds, nostalgia in his voice. 

Robin seems to hear it, too. She sits up, eyes not meeting yours. “Are you still in love with Nancy?”

Without meaning to, you hold your breath. You know Steve no longer loves her, but it’s July and somehow he still isn’t yours. There’s still trust between you, but your body tenses and your heart stutters. 

And yet Steve doesn’t hesitate. It’s immediate. He doesn’t even have to think about it. He’s known since April, though his body has known since he offered you his hand the day you almost hit his car with your bike. “No.”

“Why not?” Robin doesn’t know why she’s pushing this. You’re next to her, your thigh presses against hers. She knows that Steve is in love with you. He confessed it to her when she was teasing him about it just a few days ago. She devoted an entire whiteboard to tallying all the times he failed to ask you out. 

Steve is yours, and you’re his, but Robin can’t help but pick at scabs and expose old wounds. 

There’s a few moments of silence. Steve takes his time responding. He can almost feel your hand ghosting over his, even though you’re separated by a stall. “I think it’s because I found someone who’s a little bit better for me.”

You’re quiet. Robin is as well. 

“You know, it’s crazy.” Maybe it’s the truth serum still coursing through Steve’s veins or maybe it’s because he’s almost died a million times tonight. All he knows is that he’s tired of running. You deserve to know how he feels about you. “Ever since Dustin got home, he’s been badgering me about asking this girl out. That I need to ‘find my Suzie’. A girl he met at camp who somehow became his girlfriend, who I’m not even sure is actually real.”

He’s rambling. He knows he is, but you and Robin remain silent and patiently wait for him to keep going. Steve inhales, holds the breath for a few seconds, and exhales. All summer he’s been agonizing over this very moment. He’s spent countless sleepless nights terrified that he’d somehow ruin it. In the end, his own cowardice only hurt you; he still remembers the way your body shook in his arms while he held you as you cried last night. Steve remembers the fear on your face when you realized you couldn’t save him. That the Russians were going to take him away from you. 

It was then, seeing the terror in your eyes and hearing the desperation in your voice, that Steve Harrington finally realized you would give all of yourself to him; that is what love is. 

To love someone is to know that they deserve your love. 

And for some reason you love Steve. You see something in him that deserves your love. He’s no longer terrified that his love isn’t enough for you. He realizes now that it’s enough. His love is enough because it is his. 

You deserve love, and Steve is more than happy to give all of his to you. 

“The point is,” Steve runs a hand through his hair. He can feel you listening, waiting. “This girl, you know, the one that I love, it’s somebody that I didn’t even talk to in school… and I don’t even know why.”

A small laugh cuts through the barrier between you and Steve. The two of you spent years together in school, and not once did he ever talk to you. There was one time, early sophomore year, when he collided with you in the hallway while running to the bathroom to meet Nancy. He had apologized to you, but he continued running and hadn’t looked back.

It was two years ago, but you had only been kids, then.

Hearing your laugh emboldens Steve. He clears his throat, lifts his head. He wishes you were in the stall with him. “I think… I think I was scared. I had always watched her from afar. I mean, here was this girl who would offer help to anyone who needed it. Didn’t matter who they were, she’d help them. I just, I didn’t understand. I couldn’t understand why someone would go out of their way to help others without expecting anything in return.”

“I mean, there I was, worrying about being prom king while this girl was tutoring kids for free in the school library.” Steve scoffs at himself. He will never forgive himself for wasting all those years with you. He could’ve been your friend sooner had he not been such an asshole. “It’s stupid. I mean, Dustin’s right, it’s all just a bunch of bullshit anyways. Because when I think about it, I should’ve been friends with this girl the whole time.”

You rest your head against the wall, buzzed with warmth. “You should’ve,” you find yourself saying softly. Though you know yourself. Steve came into your life when you needed him the most, at the right time, for the right reasons. The timing had never been right before. “But I’m sure the girl is glad you ended up how you did.”

“Me, too.” Warm honey laces Steve’s voice. He can almost feel your body on his. He can see the lines and strings above him, materializing into something more solid with every word he says. “Still should’ve happened sooner, though. I mean, this girl we’re talking about is incredible. She makes me laugh more than anyone I’ve ever met. She’s witty, she always knows what to say and she’s so goddamn smart. I don’t think she knows this, but she has this way with people…”

His voice trails off. It’s what he loves the most about you. The effect you have on everyone you meet. The impact you make within a person’s life simply by smiling at them. “She has a way of making someone into a better person without even realizing it, just by being a part of their life. She… she made me a better person. Taught me to be softer, more vulnerable.”

Steve hadn’t known gentleness until he met you. 

To your left, Robin starts to close in on herself with every word he Steve says. She slouches down, drops her head into her knees almost as if in despair.

“She saw this good in me that no one else had before. For some reason, instead of using it against me like others have, she believed that I could be someone different. That I could change… It didn’t matter how long it would take me, she would wait. And I’m so goddamn lucky to be in love with someone as selfless as her.”

Guilt eats away at Robin. She’s harbored a resentment towards Steve all summer, even though she tried to swallow the feeling down. The love between you and Steve had always been obvious from the first day she met you. She watched the two of you dance around each other every day, basking in the sickly sweet young love you shared with one another. 

It’s not that Robin resented your relationship with Steve. No, she was happy for you, truly. The bitter taste in her mouth whenever she watched you gently stroke his cheek with your fingertips was remorse intermingling with resentment because she will never be able to do that. She will never be able to love someone so openly. To have someone hold her hand and call her tender names. 

You’re a beautiful girl with a boy who could adore you freely. Robin can only ever watch you from the shadows, scared to be caught.

You notice Robin’s shift in demeanor and press your body closer to hers. You’ve never seen her look so small before, so unsure of herself, and it worries you. “Hey, is everything okay?”

She shakes her head, too afraid that if she talks she’ll start to cry. The kindness that you offer her stings. She doesn’t deserve it. Not when she believes you outshine the sun. Before she can make up some excuse, Steve knocks on the stall. “Robin? Y/N? Did someone just OD over there?”

“No,” Robin’s breath is shaky, which worries you even more. “We’re still alive.”

You try to meet her eye, but she won’t look up at you. You’re not sure what’s happened, but she’s closed herself off from you; you feel like an intruder. Placing an arm on her shoulder, you’re about to offer her some more water when Steve’s body slides into the stall.

He settles himself across from you, shy with his movements. Your heart lurches when you see him, too. He confessed his love for you only moments prior, and you want nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and call him yours, but Robin looks pale. She’s scared. You just don’t know why.

“The floor’s disgusting,” she says to Steve, hoping to get the attention off of her. 

“Yeah, well, I already got a bunch of blood and puke on my shirt, so…” He looks down, cringes slightly. You remain silent, and Robin’s eyes are still downcast. Seeing this, Steve tries to lighten the mood and asks Robin a teasing question. “So, what do you think?”

“About?”

“This girl,” he turns to you, then. He looks at you with such fondness and knows that both you and Robin know he had been talking about you the entire time. He’s trying to get you to laugh, bring a smile back to your faces.

Robin tries to play along, swallowing down the remaining bitterness. You’re sitting next to her, your hand is still on her arm. “She sounds awesome.” 

“She is awesome.” Steve winks at you, hoping it’ll get you to blush the pretty pink he loves so much. When it works, he smiles. “And what about the guy?”

“I think he’s as sweet as honey in July.” You say, giving into Steve’s charm. It’s worked on you ever since the day you crashed into that ditch, even if back then you refused to admit it.

“Yeah? Well, I think he’s on drugs, and that he’s not thinking straight. That he doesn’t realize how lucky he is.” Robin interjects. She doesn’t look at you, her eyes remain on Steve. You raise your eyebrows at what she’s said. You hadn’t expected such a pessimistic response from her.

Off put by her sudden dejection, Steve becomes defensive. He doesn’t understand what Robin is doing. She was the one who kept encouraging Steve to ask you out all summer. “Really? ‘Cause I think he’s thinking a lot more clearly than usual. He knows what luck is.”

“Does he? What if there’s this other girl, one he hasn’t seen yet. I mean, really seen.” Robin swallows. Her fingers twist together nervously. “What if he one day sees her and realizes just how unlucky she is. I don’t think the guy would ever want to be her friend after that.”

“No, that’s not true. No way is that true.” Steve shifts closer to the two of you now, confused as to why Robin is saying all of this. Of course she’s his friend. “I mean, apart from the girl he’s in love with, this other girl is the guy’s only friend.”

“Listen to me, Steve.” Robin still doesn’t look at you, but you listen silently and allow her the space she seems to need. “It’s shocked me to my core, but I like you. I really like you, but I’m not lucky like you are. I think… I think you should use that luck. Go for the girl.”

Steve tilts his head, not quite following. “What does luck have to do with any of it?”

Robin sighs and you sit next to her, quiet. She seems to be trying to figure out what she wants to say, and somehow you think you know what she means by luck. It’s always fascinated you, luck and love. Two sides of the same coin. But it never occurred to you that there could be an undercurrent that cuts through the luck. A double meaning behind it. 

“Do you remember what I said about Click’s class? About me being jealous and, like, obsessed?”

“Yeah,”

Robin closes her eyes and sighs. When she opens them, there’s a resolved look in them.  “It… It isn’t because I had a crush on you. It’s because she wouldn’t stop staring at you.”

At first, you’re confused. You had missed their conversation about Mrs. Click’s class. They must’ve had it when they were being held captive, but the phrasing of what Robin has just said feels heavier than it should. Her words land on you with a force you hadn’t seen coming. 

If Robin had for some reason talked about being obsessed with Steve in a class they once shared, but not because she had a crush on him, but because a girl wouldn’t stop staring at him… 

“Mrs. Click?”

Even though you’ve done well remaining silent this entire time, you can’t help but snort at Steve’s response. He’s trying, you know he is. Robin must know this too, because she laughs softly at him as well. “No, Steve.”  Her smile dims, however. “That would’ve made things easier for me, though.”

Easier. Luckier. 

And then it all clicks. 

Robin’s insistence on always pleasing you. The subtle touches. The way her eyes would darken sometimes when you looked at Steve. How, only an hour ago, she had asked you for a kiss when she was still under the influence of the truth serum. 

You draw your hand towards hers and slowly thread your fingers together. Robin’s head spins, she finally allows herself to look at you. She finds your eyes staring into hers. They’re kind, understanding. You’re looking right through her in this very moment, and Robin Buckley has never been more afraid. 

“How long have you known?” You ask her, voice gentle.

Robin’s voice shakes. “Since Tammy Thompson…” She has to look away from you. She can’t do this with you looking at her. “She was in Mrs. Click’s class with me and Steve. I–I wanted her to look at me, but.. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from him and his stupid hair.”

She pauses, tries to compose herself, and you squeeze her hand three times. Once to tell her that you’re there, another to give her the reassurance to go on, and the final time to communicate that you understand. There isn’t a reason to be scared. Somehow, Robin knows what the gesture means. Breathing in, she looks at Steve and continues. 

“And I didn’t understand, because you would get bagel crumbs all over the floor and you asked dumb questions and you were a douchebag. And–and you didn’t even like her and I–” Her voice breaks. “I would go home… and just scream into my pillow.”

Steve looks between the two of you. It’s obvious he’s the only one not aware of the underlying layers. “But Tammy Thompson’s a girl.”

“Steve,” Robin breathes out, pleading. She doesn’t want to say it out loud. She can’t say it out loud. He needs to understand what she’s trying to say. Why she’s been giving him hell all summer. Why she feels guilty when she looks at you.

“Yeah?” But he doesn’t understand.

Robin can’t say anything. She looks at him, can feel the tears in her eyes; she’s begging now. Steve’s eyes find yours, silently begging you as well to explain this to him. He doesn’t understand what he’s doing wrong. He doesn’t want to be doing something that could hurt Robin like this. 

Your shoes squeak against the tile floors as you draw your knees into your chest. You’re not sure what else you can do. Robin has laid everything out for Steve. Your hand still holds hers and you try to quell the fear within you that maybe he’s being intentionally naive. Maybe he doesn’t want to believe it. 

“Oh.” 

It’s one word, one exhale of breath from a mouth that once used to say cruel things. Steve’s face softens, his jaw unclenches and his shoulders relax. He surprises you, showing nothing but empathy. He’s kind, he’s always been kind.

“Holy shit,” Steve doesn’t want to mess this up, but he’s never been good with words. 

Robin laughs. “Yeah, holy shit.”

He sighs and leans against the stall wall. It’s quiet between the three of you. No one really knows what to say now. Steve is still processing, Robin’s heartbeat still hasn’t quite settled, and you’re trying to figure out how to tell her that you understand more than she may know. She’s braver than you, trusted you with this secret, and it’s only fair that you offer her a part of yourself as well. 

Plus, it’s a wonderful ice breaker. 

“You have terrible taste in women, Robin.” You nudge her with your shoulder, teasing. “I mean, I’ve heard Tammy Thompson during choir rehearsal. You can totally do better.”

“She wants to be a singer, she has dreams!” Robin defends the girl, the change in conversation bizarre but welcomed. 

Steve, sensing that you’re trying to lessen the tension, gratefully plays along. “So what she has dreams? She can’t even carry a tune. But, more importantly, what do you know about taste in women, Y/N?”

“I see things,” you jut your head out, defiant. “Probably would’ve fallen in love with Nancy Wheeler had I known her instead of Jonathan.”

Their reactions are expected.

“You would’ve loved Nancy?” Steve exclaims at the same time as Robin guffaws, “You loved Byers?” 

You laugh. It’s a full, whole body laugh. One you haven’t felt in so long. “Yes,” you wheeze out, the look on their faces killing you. Steve looks unnerved while Robin looks disgusted. “At least Jonathan doesn’t sound like a muppet when he sings.”

“Tammy does not!” Robin is laughing alongside you now. It’s been a long time since she’s laughed this hard, too.

Steve rolls his eyes, his own smile overtaking his face. “She sounds like a muppet giving birth, Robin.”

“That’s what she reminds me of!” You snap your fingers and point at him. “You’re right!”

Robin clutches her stomach as she laughs. She leans into your side as you lean into her. Steve starts doing a terrible impersonation of Tammy’s awful singing, which only gets the two of you to laugh even harder. Steve gets you to sing along. He grabs the hand that isn’t holding Robin’s and swings it around as the two of you sing. Robin joins, laughing more than singing. It’s lovely. Absolutely lovely. 

And this is how Dustin finds the three of you.

He slams the bathroom door open, Erica right behind him, and stands in front of you.

“Okay,” he glares at you specifically. “What the hell, Y/N?”

You giggle at his disappointed dad stance. “I told you I’d take care of them.”

Dustin isn’t amused, which only makes your giggles turn to laughter again. The other two teens aren’t far behind you, descending into yet another fit of laughter. Hunched together, the three of you giggle breathlessly as your brother and Erica watch in disbelief. 

But you ignore their questioning stares.

With both Steve and Robin holding your hands, laughter warming your belly, you feel like a kid again.

– 

 The bus becomes your only option.

“I managed to contact the party.” Dustin had informed you after your laughter died down.

Relief washed over you. “Thank God–”

“But then my walkie died.”

“Yeah,” you had sighed and dropped your head down in defeat. “Yeah, of course it did. Why wouldn’t it die when we need it?”

Which leads you to now: peering out the bathroom door with Steve breathing down your neck and Dustin in front of you, checking to make sure it’s safe. A crowd of people flood the once empty hallway. The movie must’ve just finished. Everyone is talking excitedly, having no idea that five teenagers are currently hiding in the bathroom from Russians. 

You envy them. 

“When I say ‘blend’, we go. Okay?” Dustin asks the group, eyes still on the mass of people exiting the theater. 

“Because Steve dripping blood definitely will blend in.” You retort. It’ll be hard not to draw attention to yourselves with the way his face still oozes. It’s a long walk down to the bus station and you’re getting worried now. The mall closes in ten minutes, soon there won’t be any crowds to hide behind. 

Dustin doesn’t bother justifying your remark. Instead he studies the flow of traffic before giving his signal. “Blend.”

The five of you swiftly exit the bathroom and align your pace with everyone around you. Dustin guides in front with Erica while you stay back with Steve and Robin. Your eyes move constantly, scanning every face you pass. Thankfully, the people close to you seem innocent enough.

Erica looks around, impressed. “Well, shit. That worked.”

“Of course it worked.” Dustin is smug, which makes you wince. He’s always had a bad habit of jinxing things. You really wish he had gotten more of your mom’s humility and less of your dad’s ego. “Now we just have to get on the bus with the rest of these plebes, and home sweet home, here we come.”

You shove your brother. “Can we not taunt our inevitable bad luck?”

“We’re in the clear now, Y/N. Trust me, in just twenty minutes we’ll be back home, where our dear mother awaits with her frantic arms wide open–”

“Uh, Dustin?” Steve eyes him nervously. Already you dread whatever he’s about to say. You guys only lasted thirty seconds without any bad luck. It’s a new record, honestly.

“What?”

“Yeah, we might not wanna go to your house.”

“Why?”

“Well,” Steve winces with regret. He knows he’s about to piss both Hendersons off. “I might’ve told them your full name.”

Dustin turns to look at him, bewildered. “What is wrong with you?”

“Dude, I was drugged.” Steve argues, which. Yeah. That’s fair.

Not liking that he apparently sold your brother out to Russians, yet understanding that Steve hadn’t been the most clear headed when it happened, you grab his hand. There’s more important matters to deal with, like whether or not he sold you out as well. “Did you tell them my full name?”

“No, I kept you safe.” He says, with an air of obviousness that you smirk at. 

“Aw, thanks honey.” You kiss his cheek, not caring that Dustin is fuming in front of you. 

“Oh, so you can resist for your girlfriend but not for her brother?” Dustin struggles to keep his voice low. He has never wanted to shove Steve down a flight of stairs more. “You were supposed to tough it out. Like a man!”

You flick the kid’s hat. “Hey, he was very manly defending my honor.”

“I hate you both–”

Robin suddenly freezes, her eyes catching on something. “Guys…”

Everyone stops, alarmed by the tone in her voice, before you see them. There, standing right in front of the exit of the mall, are the two Russian men from the alley. They’re stopping people, checking their faces, looking for you. 

“Abort.” Dustin says, before one of the men makes direct eye contact with him. His face pales and you already have one hand on his shoulder, pulling at him to run. “Abort!”

Steve grabs Erica’s hand and motions for you and Dustin to run ahead as Robin guides. She pushes through the crowd of people and towards the escalators. However, when you get there, they’re roped off and blocked by plexiglass. 

You kick at the glass, frustrated. The Russians are close now. Robin, quick as ever, steps past you and places herself in the middle of the two escalators. You’re confused at first, but then you realize there’s just enough space for your bodies to fit through. Sitting down, Robin is able to use the gap as a makeshift slide.

“Let’s go,” Steve places Erica to slide down next, then Dustin. When it’s your turn, he nods at you. “Ready?”

“I’m so tired of running from these shitheads.” You say before launching yourself down the escalators. 

Robin waits for everyone at the bottom. When you’re all there, she waves for you to follow as you run again. None of you have any idea where to even hide now that the mall has emptied. There’s no one to hide behind, no corner to run into. And the goddamn Russians are fast, never trailing more than fifty feet behind you. 

Somehow you end up in the food court. It isn’t much, but there’s at least vendor’s stalls and restaurant counters nearby. Panting, you point towards the nearest counter. “There! Everyone jump over!”

No one argues, doing as they’re told. You make it there first and help Erica over while Steve and Robin help Dustin. Kneeling down, you motion for everyone to sit with a finger to your lips. The men have to be nearby, you can practically feel their presence close. Facing your friends, you grip your knives and strain your ears for any sounds. 

It’s tense. Dustin pants, he’s scared and overwhelmed and you wish you could offer him better protection. Steve glances at you, silently asking you what the next move is, and you shake your head helplessly. You’re cornered, there’s no way out of this one. 

The sound of boots falling against the mall’s ground approaches. It grows louder and louder at a maddeningly slow pace. Your knuckles are white from how tightly they grip around the hilt of your switchblade. With one flick of your wrist, you know you could at least disarm one of the men long enough to cause a distraction. You’d never kill anyone, but you know from experience that a cut to the shoulder is sufficient enough. 

You’re pulled away from your thoughts when a car alarm suddenly goes off. Its loud noise echoes within the empty mall. Everyone jumps at the unexpected sound, shuffling closer together. Deciding it’s worth the risk, you poke your head up to see what the hell is going on. 

The guards are standing around a red convertible. It shakes, vibrates almost, and they look at one another in confusion. The car continues to shriek its alarm, and while the men stand in fear, you smile. There’s static in the air.

Looking up you see El, with an arm outstretched, on the second floor. Her face is strained, her fingers clench in mid air. The look on her face is terrifying, and you’ve never been happier to see blood drip down from her nose. She twists her arm and sends the car flying into the men. You duck as it crushes them, rolls over the tables and chairs in the center, before spiraling into the counter next to you. “Shit!”

The alarm stops ringing. Everything falls silent. Slowly, you and everyone else stand up to inspect the damage. A tire rim rolls past, the Russians guards are sprawled on the ground, unmoving. There’s smoke from where the car has landed, and you let out a low whistle. “Nice one, El.”

“El?” Dustin turns around, wondering if he’s heard you right.

“She’s up there,” you point to where she had been standing, but when you see Jonathan now standing next to her with Nancy, your heart stops. “Jonathan.”

You’re the first to start running, and when he sees that it’s you, Jonathan wastes no time running either. He’s down the escalator in seconds. Your whole body buzzes as you run, adrenaline and longing coursing through you. The moment he’s close enough, you practically leap into his arms.

“Bug,” he holds onto you tightly. He buries his face in your hair and you breathe him in. It’s a familiar scent, a familiar warmth. You had been so focused on escaping the Russian base that you hadn’t even considered that he and everyone else in the party could’ve been involved. “Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” you tighten your arms around him, but when he makes a pained noise, you immediately pull away. It’s then that you notice the swelling in his head. The dried blood. Pressing your fingers softly to his face, you fill with concern. “What happened, are you hurt?”

Jonathan tries to shrug it off. He doesn’t care about what he’s been through. All he wants to focus on is that you’re okay, for once not covered in blood and bruises like he is. Wherever you’ve been these last few days, at least he knows you weren’t in any pain. “I’m fine, I’ll tell you everything later–”

“You flung that thing like a Hot Wheel!” Dustin exclaims to El, now joining you and Jonathan as the others gather around. 

You don’t leave Jonathan’s side as everyone starts talking at once. Lucas asks why Erica is involved, to which you wince at. “I tried stopping them.”

“It’s their fault.” Erica points at Steve and Robin, clearing your name in the process, which you appreciate her for. 

Steve stands next to you now and puts his hands on his hips. He doesn’t even try to deny that he’s the reason a ten year old girl ended up locked inside an underground Russian facility. “Yeah, true. Totally true. It’s absolutely our fault.” 

Robin asks what happened to the car and Dustin and Steve explain El to her. They quickly catch her up to speed about the girl’s power, and you feel bad for the teen. It’s a lot of information to take in at once. Erica joins, having remembered her conversation with Dustin from earlier in the vents when he had explained the Upside Down to her. 

Meanwhile, Nancy is focused on Robin. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“That’s Robin. She’s a friend.” You step between them. When Nancy sees that it’s you, she quickly looks away. She fidgets with her fingers, overwhelmed with shame and regret. She hasn’t forgotten the cruelty she showed you a few days ago. You haven’t forgotten either, but you’ve never been one to hold anger towards others. Extending a kind smile, you nod at her. “Hey, Nance.”

Nancy looks up, surprised, but smiles at you as well and it’s enough. Maybe one day you’ll sort through the tension that never seems to leave you and the girl alone. Untangle the lines and threads that haunt both of you. For now, there are other things to worry about. 

Steve has started explaining the Russians now, and quickly it becomes clear that you’ve all been dealing with vastly different situations. 

“Russians, what Russians?” Jonathan asks you with alarm. 

“See those guys laying over there?” Everyone looks at where you’re pointing, the men still knocked out on the ground. “Russians. We enjoyed twenty-four wonderful hours with them.”

“Yeah, we ended up trapped in their secret base underneath Hawkins.” Dustin further explains, to which everyone’s eyes widen at. 

“It was fun. Spent my birthday in mortal danger.” At the same time the kids all wish you a belated birthday, which you salute them for. “Thanks, guys. I’m just happy I wasn’t gravely injured this time.”

“And that Steve finally kissed you.” Dustin unhelpfully adds before Steve is covering his mouth to shut him up. His face reddens, embarrassed and nervous. Jonathan is standing too close to him for comfort right now.

Nancy looks uncomfortable with this new information, Mike makes a disgusted sound, Max high fives you, Lucas cheers, Will gasps and looks nervously towards his brother, and Jonathan chokes on his own spit. It’s truly a very wide array of reactions, all of which are expected to certain extents. 

That doesn’t stop you from hitting the back of Dustin’s head, though. “Can we focus on the Russians infiltrating Hawkins?” Dustin hits your shoulder in retaliation, but he knows you’re right. He turns to Mike, upset that he hadn’t come sooner. “Didn’t you get our code red?”

“Yeah, but I couldn’t understand half of what you were saying.”

The kids all start to argue and Steve joins in, making a remark about how he’s always bugging Dustin to watch for a low battery. More arguing follows. Lucas and the others demand to hear more about the Russians. As you try your best to explain everything, you notice from the corner of your eye El walking away from the group.

Her shoulders are drawn into her body, her breathing seems to be labored. You nudge Jonathan, pulling his attention away from the kids arguing, and point towards El. “What happened to her tonight?”

Jonathan is about to explain what they’ve been dealing with, but when El collapses onto the ground, you leave his side in a heartbeat to join her. Kneeling beside her, you’re cold with panic. She’s covered in sweat, her face is flushed. “El? Sweetheart, what’s happening?”

Mike and Jonathan are beside you now. Mike is in his own fit of panic, nearly ramming into you in his hurry to get to the girl. He turns her over onto her back, his face twisted with worry and fear. “El! What’s wrong?”

The rest of the group stands around El now, staring down at her. She manages to open her eyes, but you can tell that it pains her to do so. “My leg.” She rasps out, voice thick with tears. 

“Her leg, okay.” Jonathan takes action, swiftly unraveling a bandage on her leg. You hadn’t noticed it before. There’s a deep wound underneath the gauze, its blood has soaked through it. Nancy helps Jonathan with the bandage, and when they finally get it off, you almost throw up at the sight. 

The flesh is raised, angry and swollen. There’s a giant gash in El’s leg, deep and to the bone. The veins in her legs are dark and begin to constrict when something starts to move inside the wound; something is crawling inside her leg. It’s a nauseating sight.

Mike starts to freak out even more. He doesn’t understand what’s happening. He’s scared for the girl, his eyes fill with panic. Instinctively you pull him into your arms, tightening your hold as he fights against it. 

That’s when El begins to scream.

-

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[sthwaaberry]

firsts - k.hongjoong

wc: 550+

pairing: subby virgin hongjoong x fem reader

warnings: p w/o plot, handjob, blowjob, make out scene, mention of sex, lmk if i missed anything (not proofread!)

hongjoong had a lot of his firsts with you. first hug, first kiss, first date. he loved being with you and experiencing what it’s like to truly be loved and appreciated, he did.. but there was always one first he was seemingly hell bent on avoiding.

almost a year into your relationship, and you guys still hadn’t fucked. never going beyond a quick make out session, you never even saw hongjoong naked. you respected his boundaries, no matter how much you wanted him.

it was a night like any other, he came home after coming home from airport, chunky glasses sitting atop his nose bridge as you watched whatever shitty rom-com you chose. not even 30 minutes into the movie and he was all over you, having placed you in his lap leaving sloppy, rushed kisses on your lips; odd. usually you were the one to initiate it. though, you weren’t complaining. though the way his fists bunched at the oversized tee you were wearing started to worry you at his change in character.

“joong, is everything alright?” you murmur, a soft peck placed on your lips before he answers “yeah, just— fuck. today was really stressful, love. i wanna forget about my responsibilities right now, wanna focus on you.” he pouts. “can you help me forget?”

his words sent a shiver down your spine. was this really happening? you tried to ignore how heated your ears felt. “hongjoong, are you asking—“ “yes. please. i come home and you’re sitting here so damn pretty.. w-we don’t even have to fuck yet.” he says, clearly desperate. you bite your lip before leaving your spot on his lap, falling to the carpeted floor below the sofa, in between his spread thighs.

your eyes widen at the bulge you see in his boxers when you finally take off his pants. you weren’t expecting it to be this big. you slip the remaining fabric off, mouth salivating at the sight before you.

he wasn’t exactly thick, but he made up for it in length. his tip red and angry, dribbling with precum. you look up at him, watching as he purses his lips, glasses slightly crooked and foggy to the point where you could barely make out his eyes. you looked so damn pretty like this, slotted in between his legs.

you wrap your fingers around his length, giving him an experimental stroke, a gorgeous moan leaving his lips. you wanted to hear it again badly. encouraged by his sounds, you start stroking him slowly but surely, thumb running across his tip as a string of whines and profanities leave his lips.

“p-please, y/n.. need my cock in your mouth, you’ll let me, right?” he whimpers out, and you obey, lips slowly wrapping around his cock. with what you can’t fit in your mouth, you continue to stroke, feeling him throb inside of you.

“a-ah.. f-fuck, wait- m’gon—” with little to no warning, strings of his warm cum shoot down your throat, making you pull away for a bit to swallow, catching your breath.

“give me a warning next time, joong.” you say with a breathless chuckle, while hongjoong looks away flustered, grumbling an apology talking about how he didn’t mean to. meanwhile, you could tell he was noticeably less tense than before, leaving a satisfied smile on your face.

a/n: AAAA im sorry i know im supposed to be writing two other full fics but these images appeared on the tl in the dead of night and i couldn’t help myself 😣 i didn’t proofread sorry for mistakes, please leave your thoughts i’d love to hear it since this is my first time writing smut and thank you if you read all of this !!

[loves-77]

You Are My Honey

*TW* Yandere, obsessive tones, mates, Bear hybrid, NOT PROOFREAD (Tell me if you notice anymore)

THIS IS MY FIRST STORY I HAVE EVER WRITTEN SO IGNORE ANY MISTAKES, I AM STILL TRYING TO FIND MY PERFERED WRITING STYLE!

TELL ME IF YOU WANT A SMUT PART 2!!

*One part of my story is inspired by a scene in another story I read, don't remember the author*

*Not My Picture*

What had the world become? You sit alone on your couch in a small little apartment you could barely afford, for what? To get up in the morning go to your job at the floral shop and make a couple bucks a day?? All alone because you don't have time to invest in a romance that would probably end after a month, because who would want to be with a 'workaholic' who only has time to stay at their job. All your friends got some husband or boyfriend or...... mate.

The subject of 'mates' confused you, hybrids are just now being accepted into society and now are 'mating' on people. With how many hybrids are finding their mates the government is passing a law allowing them to be with said mates. The thought scared you, maybe because you didn't know enough about it. Imagine going about your normal day and some random person, with ears or a tail, starts talking about how you are destined to be together. Scary, or romantic??

Finally getting out of your daydreaming you look at the clock and realize you are gonna be late for work if you don't leave this second. Running out the door, almost forgetting your bag, you rush downstairs and run down the street. You lived pretty close to the floral shop so it was easy for you to get there fast. Barley making it on time your boss gives you a long list of orders you have to prepare. Your day has officially started..

*Time skip*

After work you make it back to the apartment, dropping your keys in your tray and making a bee line to the couch. Your phone rings and you realize your best friend was asking if you were free. Once you text them you are you start getting ready. They didn't give you a lot of details but told you to dress casual.

They text you to meet them outside your apartment in 30 min and they were gonna pick you up. Getting ready you finally make it down the stairs and wait outside for her. Seeing her car pull up and her getting out you both greet each other. "You are gonna love it" she said, "I got invited to some party on the nice side of town, supposedly there is going to be a lot of nice, respectable men there!!!" Winking at you she started the car and started driving. "You know I am not looking for anyone right now, no one is gonna wanna be with me when I can barely go out. I mean I got lucky today and my boss let me off early!" "You might find someone who doesn't mind.... Or someone who makes some money, so you don't have to work as much." Both of you start laughing.

Finally making it to the house you guys pull into the drive way and a bunch of people walking around, inside and outside. "Is the house made of just glass" you question. "I guess it is the new thing with rich people, let everyone see your business" You both get out of the car, after parking it, and walk toward the entrance. Suddenly the both of you tense, realizing there weren't just humans at this party. Now you both don't have a problem with hybrids going into public places or having the same rights you have, but never being near one before and seeing their sharp teeth or ears freaked you both out.

You were the first one to relax a little, realizing they were just there to have fun, like everyone else. "I didn't know they were gonna be here sorry" your friend apologized. "It's OK, they are here just like us, no problems." You both walk in together and browse around to see who and what exactly was here.

A loud booming voice can be heard across the room. Everyone's heads turn towards the owner of the voice. You freeze in fear, or maybe just shock, you aren't quite sure. But you know for sure that the owner of that voice is not someone you want to cross paths with ever again.

He was ginormous with arms that could pick you up and throw you a mile away.... maybe even more than that. His shaggy honey brown hair draped around his face almost majestically. He smiled and you noticed his canines are pointier that anyone you have ever seen before.... wait, wait, wait. You could hit yourself for not noticing the round brown ears on the top of his head. That is why he is so much bigger than everyone in the room.... he is a grizzly bear hybrid.

You look to your friend in panic and notice she had the same look on her face. Grizzly bear hybrids are rare and tend to be more aggressive than other predator hybrids. You have never seen one before in person, you considered yourself lucky until now.

Finally zoning back in from your panic you realize that some non-hybrids share the same look as you and your friend do. Looking back over to the owner of the voice you catch his stare. Freezing up once again you can't look away from those... black eyes? or maybe they are a dark brown, you can't tell from the distance. Snapping out of your shock you realize he stops to... sniff.... no he can't be sniffing the air... can he?

Then realization hits you when he starts heading your way. You heard that hybrids could smell who their mate is, but it couldn't be. You can't possibly be his mate. Panic sets in again and you couldn't tell if you were overreacting, it couldn't be you he was heading towards. But still, you grab your friend's arm and bolt away before he could get close enough to start a conversation.

"What- Where are we going??" Your friend asks "We need to leave right no-" "WAIT, YOU IN THE (F/C) SHIRT!!" You could have sworn the ground shook with how loud his voice was. You don't freeze, now that you know for sure he was looking for you. "Is that-" You cut your friend off "We need to leave." She doesn't hesitate to grab her car keys from her pocket and catch up with your fast steps.

Looking behind you see the hybrid trying to make his way through the crowd. "WAIT, WAIT!!" He sounded so desperate, you almost felt bad if you still didn't feel the pit in your stomach. Looking ahead of you again, you both make it to the front door, storming out of the house and to the car. While your friend was starting it you both hear the front door slam open, turning your head to the side you see the hybrid rushing out. Your friend gets the car started and hits the gas to go forward. Looking back, you see him chasing the car with.... were those tears in his eyes? No, it couldn't be, he didn't even know you. Finally relaxing in your chair, you lay back and look at your friend and say, "I don't think I am going to go to a party with you for a while." Making eye contact you both start giggling. "I understand completely" she says in between her giggling.

*Time Skip*

You wake up with a raging headache, barley remembering what happened yesterday you groan and sit up. Then you pause as you remember who you saw and ran away from yesterday. A chill goes down your spine and you remember his smile with those pointed teeth. But you snap yourself out of it and say, "He didn't do anything wrong; I shouldn't be scared for no reason." But you can't shake the feeling of fear you felt when you saw him.

Getting out of bed you get ready for work, which you are supposed to be there in an hour. Changing into a cute shirt and jeans you make yourself your (Favorite breakfast). Once you finish your food, you grab your keys and head for the door. Getting in your car you start heading over to the floral shop. Entering the store was a whole dream, all the beautiful flowers and the addicting smells you can't help but smile. Making it to the back your boss greets you and gives you the orders to start the day.

A couple hours later you hear the door open and close, looking up to greet the customer you freeze. "Welc-...." Standing before you was the (at least 6'3) huge hybrid from yesterday. "I have been looking all over for you! Since you left so abruptly yesterday, I tracked down your scent and found you here! I was going to go to your apartment, but I thought that might have been too far." The smile on his face not disappearing, even after you didn't respond and just stared at him.

"You found me by my..... scent??" The sheer surprise you had confused him, his eyebrows furrowing. "Well of course honey, how else would I find you?" ..... Honey?!?!? Why is he calling you that?? Shaking the shock off you respond "Excuse me? I don't know you sir and I don't appreciate being called honey." If it could even be possible his eyebrows furrowed even more, before it looked like he realized something. "Oh dear! I forgot to introduce myself!! My names is Caleb, and I realize this might seem weird for you but... how do I word this.... well you are my mate!" The smile on his face grew 10 times when he said 'mate'

Chills rushed down your spine, and not the good kind. "Did you just say mates? No that can't be, I am sorry, but you have the wrong person." You almost felt bad as his face dropped, but you reminded yourself he basically stalked you to work! "But -" You cut him off, "I am really sorry and I wish you the best of luck finding who you are looking for." Tears started welling in his eyes.

"(Y/N)!" Turning around you see your boss, "Yes, sir?" "Come here right now!" Looking back at Caleb you quickly turn and rush to the backroom. "Wha-" You were cut off, "You need to leave, and take the b-bear with you!" "What si-" "LEAVE! You are gonna make business go down, so take him with you!" "Bu-" You were being shoved out of the room towards a very hopeful looking bear.

"You kids have fun!" Turning around the store door was closed in your face. Turning around to look at Caleb, you turn and start walking towards your car, keeping silent. "Wait!" Your arm was yanked backwards. "LET GO!" "No." He growled with a snarl on his face. "You are going to come with me so we can talk. Don't argue because you aren't going anywhere." Shutting your mouth, you start to walk with him, not wanting to be on his bad side. But you can't stop the small tingle you feel in the spot he touched.

He led you to a black car, opened the door, and gently pushed you inside. Once he got in, he started the car and got on the road. "Where are we going?" you managed to get out in a calm voice. Smiling over at you he replied, "Home of course." You had the feeling that it wasn't your house he was talking about.

*Time Skip*

It seemed like you had been in his car for hours, but it was just 30 minutes. Glancing over at him he seemed very content with a light smile on his face. You realize this might be because he finally has what he has waited his whole life for, his mate. Thinking back, you feel bad you just ran away from him and didn't even give him a chance to talk. Looking at his face you think he is very handsome, and you are surprised you didn't notice before. His jawline sharp, light freckles dusting his face, his shapely nose, and he had longer lashes then you did. "I hope you are pleased with how I look." His deep voice scared you out of your daze. Quickly looking away from you stare at the road ahead of you. Out of the corner of your eye you see him look towards you and say "You are so beautiful. So much better than what I imagined my mate to look like." You felt your cheeks heat up as you take a quick glance at him, luckily, he was looking back at the road.

Now going through an internal debate, you realize you don't feel scared anymore. It was almost like your body was relaxing after being with him and not fighting it. Trying to fight off the feelings you can't help but look over at him and say "Why am I feeling like this?" He glanced at you before turning his eyes back on the road. Looking concerned he said "Feeling like what? Are you feeling ill?" Sighing you say "No I don't feel sick but why do I feel comfortable with you? You basically just kidnapped me." You see a small smile making its way on his face, "It is because we are mates, you don't feel it as intensely as I do, since I have better senses than a normal human. But we were destined to be together it's only natural your body is reacting to my pheromones while your brain might be denying it." He suddenly reached a hand over and grabbed your hand. Tingles exploded everywhere just from that touch. You didn't move your hand away, even though you probably should have. Staring at your intertwined hands you couldn't help it, it just felt.... right.

Not even paying attention to the time anymore it takes you a quick second to realize the car stopped. Looking up you make eye contact with Caled. The smile on his face was so sweet you practically felt yourself melting, those dang pheromones. He turned and got out of the car, gently dropping your hand. You can't help but want to hold his hand again, even after everything. He opened the door for you, gently taking your hand again as you got out. As he went to pull his hand back you held on, refusing to let you go. You could see a big smile formed on his face as he looked at your hands.

Looking up you realize how far you must be from the city; you look at the beautiful cabin house, the log details, and the wrap around porch. The forest surrounding you was just as beautiful. Looking to the side of the house there is a small gravel pathway leading into the forest.

"Welcome to my home, well I guess it's ours now."

Looking at him, the sentence and you lightly pull your hand away from his. There is no way you are going to move in with him after just meeting him.... mates or not. A big frown formed on his face when you pulled away and hurt flashed in his eyes.

"I am not moving in with you. We just met! I don't appreciate being pushed into things. I know nothing about you, and you don't know anything about me."

Stepping back from him just a little. You see a change in his eyes, anger, or frustration? You are not completely sure.

Completely ignoring what you said before he continues on.

"My grandparents built this cabin when hybrids were still outcasts. Then it passed to my parents and now me. My parents built their own house further into the forest and decided I could have this house for my mate when I found her. No one knows about it."

Something flashed in his eyes when he said the last sentence. A chill ran down your spine and not a good one. You didn't like the implication of that at all. Your instincts were screaming to run and you couldn't fight your instincts. Not even giving your brain a chance to think, you bolted.

Running straight into the forest you curse yourself for not wearing running shoes to work today. You heard Caleb behind you shouting something, he sounded desperate and wounded. He sounded far enough away you know you surprised him by running. But you knew he would catch up to you eventually and you could hit yourself for not thinking about it before just bolting. There was a pain that you felt in your chest, but your adrenaline stopped the pain. You jumped over rocks and logs not wanting to slow down or trip. You could hear behind you Caleb was gaining on you and fast. Your legs burning you suddenly change routes. You hear a loud curse behind you and knew you shook him off your tail for just a second. That small victory didn't last long as the back of your shirt was yanked. Your back hitting a soft but solid chest.

You were absolutely winded while it seemed like he didn't even break a sweat. Looking at his face you shrink into yourself seeing a furious look. He had a snarl on his face and his eyebrows were furrowed together. You can't help but whimper slightly and you see sadness flash in his eyes just for a second before going back to anger.

"Where do you think you are going." He growled and you couldn't help but flinch at his tone.

"I was being nice and showing you my home, the one you are going to live in with me. I was going be nice and give you a week to stay at your house before moving in but after that stunt you pulled aren't ever going back."

"I'm sorry!" you practically cry out, shaking with fear. Turning around and grappling onto him, crying into his chest.

You couldn't explain it but the moment you ran it felt like your heart got torn out. But now, next to Caleb, the pain stopped.

"Why do I feel like this?!?!" Tears streaming down your face.

"Why do I want to be next to you so bad? Why did it hurt when I ran away!?"

You feel his muscular arms wrap around you and start rubbing your back. He started cooing and telling you it was ok, and he would explain later. His anger completely dissolving as he realized you felt the same pain he felt when you ran. Like someone just stabbed his heart out. Feeling yourself get picked up, you wrap your legs around his waist, stuffing your face in his neck, and wrapping your arms around the back of his head. You felt yourself calm almost instantly after putting your head in his neck. But the tears didn't stop even if you felt better.

"Let's get you back home, then we can clean up and eat something." He spoke so softly you almost wouldn't believe the anger he held in his voice not even 10 minutes ago.

Relaxing into his body you think to yourself, maybe it wouldn't be to bad if you just stayed with him.

[lovelettersfromluna]

⋆｡˚☾ Silver Springs☽˚｡⋆

Summary: A step by step guide on how not to get over Ellie fucking Williams

an: AHHHH!! Here it is you guys! I wanna start off by thanking every single one of you for all the support not only did the first part of this series receive, but how much support my return received! I missed you all so so much and I’m so happy you’re enjoying this series just as much as I am enjoying writing it! I had some trouble tagging a few if you guys, as it wasn’t allowing your users to show up, so I really do apologize about that :( if any of you would like to dm me so we can solve it, feel free! I hope you all enjoy the second part to this series, and so much more is in store for this one! So stick around 🖤🖤🖤

Warnings: SMUT!!! 18+, MDNI, Alcohol and Marijuana usage, jealous!Ellie, slight asshole!Ellie, cheating, oral r!receiving, edging, fingering r!receiving, pet names, kissing, let me know if I missed anything!!

You can read part 1, here!

Tag list: @eveshyper @mattm1964 @teawithnosugar @macaroni676 @ximtiredx @gold-dustwomxn @mina-281 @aethelwyneleigh27 @abbysmainbitch @lil-elliesgf @franreadss @fairyysoiree @r3wbeef @liizzygrant @elliewilliamsgf69 @mabelle-cherie @cauliflowerpatch @forelliesposts @lunasolac @nil-eena @pillowprincessleia @pedropascalsbbg @ellieswifeyy @lesbiantothemoonandback @dummysimp011 @miniaturebananadefendor @sweetpumpkins @thesmutconnoisseur @miksde @delicategirlie

Ellie had always been possessive.

Over anything, really. Over her father, or her favorite forest green hoodie, or the bracelets you two made for each other when you were both in middle school. If it was hers in any way, there was a pretty good chance that she’d be possessive over it.

She was also, very possessive over you.

You never really noticed, mainly because she’s usually extremely discreet about it. Often time, it’ll go unnoticed by those around her, because Ellie knows not to make a scene over someone tugging you along to ride home with them after a party, or to have you stay in their bed instead of hers. And she only does it because you’re her best friend, not theirs. They shouldn’t be trying to take you anyways.

Yeah. That was the only reason.

So the shock you felt when she acted the way she did in front of Alex was something you’d never really seen before. Sure, your best friend had a temper. You couldn’t count on your hands how many times you had to talk down a very drunk Ellie from fighting some idiot jock because they told her she couldn’t beat them at arm wrestling, but that was stupid party banter. What happened at the beginning of class? That was just unwarranted.

And as much as you hoped it was simply Ellie being in a mood that morning, that wasn’t the end of it.

After that day in class, you and Alex grew nearly inseparable. You showed her around to all of her classes, she followed you to the library to study, and to the cafe to have lunch, she even ended up coming back to your apartment to play video games one night when your study session ran past the opening hours of the campus library. Days had gone by, and as much as you didn’t want to admit it, Alex had almost fully taken Ellie’s spot as your best friend.

But then again, Sofia took your spot too.

That was another thing, what used to be like pulling teeth to see your best friend after she had gotten herself a girlfriend, had suddenly taken a drastic change.

After the first initial situation with Alex, Ellie was suddenly almost always in the picture.

It first started with the text messages. When Ellie first started dating Sofia, there were only a few messages here and there, a few stupid tiktoks sent between one another, and the less than frequent plans that you’d try to make with each other that would almost always be cancelled due to last minute plans Ellie ended up making with Sofia.

Now? Now Ellie would text you all the time. She’d send you video after video telling you what kind of cat you were, or which season you were, and she’d make sure to never miss out on sending you pictures of her homework, asking you if it looked good enough to submit, and she was constantly trying to make more plans with you. It was just like how things were before Sofia, back when it was just you, and Ellie, and the little traditions that you and her had every weekend.

Only it wasn't just like those times...now she was...so much more.

It made things a bit awkward when you were studying with Alex one afternoon, the silence of you and her falling comfortably between the both of you as you simply scribbled notes in your books, enjoying each others company, when suddenly your phone went off. It was a message from Ellie.

Waddup dorrrrk

U busy tonight?

You frown softly as you look up from your phone, catching a glimpse of Alex's face as she types away at her computer before you looked back down at your phone, typing out a response to Ellie.

Yeah

prob gonna head home after this and sleep

wya?

library

lemme come pick you up then

no thats okay. Im with Alex

You stare down at your phone as you await a response from Ellie. you see her little chat bubble pop up, stay for a moment, and then disappear. It does this for a minute or two, and you know she's struggling to find the right words to say. She always does this whenever she doesn't know exactly what to respond with

u know Alex is a prick right?

what makes you say that?

she just is

mmm

good to know

ditch her for me

im not gonna do that

where's Sof?

at her dorm

cool

well I'll catch you later Ellie

Ellie never responded after that

and thats how things were for the most part. You would spend your time with Alex, and Ellie would try her best to intervene between that time that you spent with her. Whether it was swooping in and trying to pull you away from Alex while you were walking together, or blowing up your phone whenever she knew you were together, she’d make herself known.

And you still had that damn party to go to that following weekend

You let out a soft sigh as you stared at yourself in the mirror. Your hands came up, smoothing down the clothes that you had on. The strapless black top you wore hugged your middle perfectly, a contrast to the usual baggy, comfy clothes you wore, and the denim jeans hung low on your hip, hugging your curves perfectly. Your hair was styled, and your makeup was done, but you couldn’t help but pout softly at yourself, turning around and eyeing yourself in the mirror, shaking out your hair, pursing your lips together before releasing them.

God….you really didn’t wanna go to this party.

And you were very close to cancelling. You already had your excuse thought up too, you were going to text Ellie and tell her that you had come down with a cold, and that you couldn’t make it out tonight, that you’d catch her and Sofia at the next one.

But she was already pulling you aside after class to make sure you were going.

You were walking out of your last class for the day, the idea of the party on your mind the entire afternoon. You didn’t want to deal with Ellie, as bad as that sounded. She had been so weird ever since you and Alex became friends, and it bothered you how clingy she had suddenly become now that your time was suddenly taken up by someone else.

She was being possessive, and childish, and it wasn’t your job to make her feel better about you having other friends or apologizing for the fact that you were finally moving on-

“Hey! Hey wait up!” The familiar voice called out from behind you, and it almost made you wince. Ellie’s footsteps grew closer and closer as she ran behind you to catch up. You almost wanted to put your headphones on, a silent gesture that you didn’t want to deal with any of Ellie’s antics in that moment.

But she was still your best friend

You gave a tired smile once she finally catches up with you, and you can see the way her eyes twinkle the second she’s looking down at you. You figure it’s because she’s catching you on a rare moment when you’re not with Alex.

“There you are…” She mumbles softly, and you’re sure that if you weren’t so annoyed with her recent behavior, you’d be swooning over how fucking good she looked. Despite the fall weather, it was a bit warmer that day, so she opted for a loose fitted white t shirt, her signature baggy blue jeans, and of course her favorite rings. Her brown hair was tucked into a loose bun, and she wore a backwards faded maroon colored baseball cap.

Once again, Ellie Williams was a fucking dream.

“Here I am…” you mumble awkwardly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear before you watch her, prompting her to get out whatever it was that she needed to talk about. Instead, she simply stares for a bit, seemingly taking in your appearance for a moment before she hums softly.

“No Alex today?” She questions, looking around to see if she just missed her. You could hear that tone in her voice, the one that was hopeful for a specific answer from you. You let out a soft sigh, shaking your head as you push past the doors of the building that lead to the campus courtyard. “She left early to run some errands” you explain, a soft frown on your face as you catch the familiar smug smirk of triumph on your best friends lips.

“You know she isn’t that bad, right? I think you two would get along…you have a lot in common” you tried, adjusting your bag on your shoulder as you looked up at Ellie.

It was true, Ellie and Alex were extremely similar. In the time that you’d been spending with Alex, there were frequent moments where you felt like you were with Ellie. Certain things she said or did, or the type of jokes she’d make, or the music she listened to. Hell, they even dressed similarly, you were sure that if they gave each other a shot, they’d become just as close, if not closer than you were with either of them.

Or should you rather say, if Ellie gave her a chance.

Your words make Ellie scoff, the girls veiny hands shoving into her pockets as she strolled along with you. “Get along? Yeah fuckin right…I’d rather drag my bare ass along the concrete than hang out with that moron” she huffed out, her words making you scrunch your nose in disgust at the vivid picture she was painting for you, meant to express her distaste for the girl.

“But why? You really don’t have any reason to hate her, Els…because she sat in your seat? You don’t even sit there anymore…” you mumbled the last part of your comment under your breath, your eyes trailing down towards your feet as you frown softly, thinking back to the times before Alex showed up. How lonely it was sitting alone, walking to and from classes by yourself, spending the weekends cooped up in your home with nothing to do, no one to talk to.

Ellie frowned with you, her own green eyes zeroing in on the ground similarly to the way you did as she found herself deep in thought. It confused her too, why it bothered her so much. When you’d ask, her excuse was that she just felt Alex was bad news, and that she didn’t want anyone taking advantage of you or ruining your friendship with her.

That was always her excuse.

She inhaled deeply, replacing her frown with a bright smile, almost as if she were trying to distract you from your question before she changed the subject entirely. “Do you know what you’re gonna wear tomorrow? I heard this parties gonna be fuckin dope” she breathed out, turning towards you and flashing her pearly whites.

It almost gives you whiplash. She’d done it before, completely disregarded your attempts at trying to figure out why exactly she hated Alex so much, wanting more of a reason beside Ellie’s ‘bad feeling’ about the girl. It made you feel even more confused and frustrated with her and how she was acting towards you.

But every time she flashed those pretty teeth your way, it was like your mind went blank.

You blinked a few times as you stared up at her, clearing your throat before your mouth started moving before your brain could properly form a the sentence you wanted to say. Which was something along the lines of ‘im not feeling well! I’ll probably skip this one’

But that isn’t what leaves past your lips.

“I’m uh…not sure yet. I guess you’ll see once I’m there” you breath out softly, followed by a soft chuckle that sounds similar to a sound of defeat, because that’s exactly what’s happened, you’ve been defeated. Ellie has once again wiggled her way into that little soft spot she knew she had for you, and managed to have her way with you, no matter how annoyed you were with her.

Ellie beams the second she heard your words, nodding as she gives you a nudge with her elbow. “That’s why I like to hear! Hey, I’ll text you, okay? Keep you updated on what’s happening” she promises, giving you a nod. Before you can respond, her phone vibrated in her back pocket, to which she pulled out to check it, and you already know who it is. It rips you away from the little interaction you’re having with her, and it makes you sigh softly as you give Ellie a soft nod. “I’ll see you there, Els” you promise, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before you began walking ahead of her.

“I’m pretty tired so…I’ll head home” you nod, not giving her anymore room to stick around and tell you how she can’t stay with you any longer because she has to meet Sofia somewhere. That hurts much more than whatever the hell it was that was happening between you and her within that moment. She watched you, opening her mouth to stop you from leaving but you were already giving her a small wave, paired with a soft smile as you began making your way home.

And that was that. You went home and spent the rest of the day hating the fact that you had said yes to Ellie. You hated that she still had this weird power over you to get whatever she wanted whenever she wanted it.

It’s how you found yourself staring blankly at yourself in the mirror, feeling ridiculous in your outfit, unable to even recognize yourself, and feeling even more ridiculous for going to the stupid party in the first place.

On your bed, you hear your phone buzz, and you already know who it is. You let out a soft huff, grabbing the platform sandals you had settled next to you in the mirror and sitting on your bed to put them on. You open up your messages to read through them while you do so.

yooooo

What time u want us to pick you up?

The messages make you frown, and for a minute your eyes trail towards the bubble at the very top of your phone, the one that has a silly picture of Ellie that you had taken of her when she was high out of her mind and babbling about something that was too incoherent to understand. Once you’ve put your shoes on, you grab the phone and begin typing out a message back to her.

sup

you guys head out without me, I’ll meet you there

huh?

I stg if ur flaking on me

I’m not

I’ll be there relax

ok who’s bringing you then?

The text makes you frown further, because you can practically hear the tone of accusatory thick within Ellie’s words from the text alone, and it pisses you off. Because why the hell would she be prying on who’s taking you to the party? And why does it even matter in the first place?

You sigh softly, eyeing the text for a few more moments before you stand up off the bed, shove your phone into your back pocket and leave your room to head out into your kitchen.

Once you’re there, you open up one of the highest cupboards, you’re glad that your sandals are platforms, because if they weren’t, you wouldn’t be able to reach the single bottle of tequila that sits at the very top of the cupboard. You huff in annoyance, because you can vividly recall the night you and Ellie bought the bottle. She was complaining about your lack of provisions, to which prompted the both of you to make a late night run to the liquor store to buy it. The only contents from the bottle that was missing was from that of which came from nights that you and Ellie wanted to let loose a bit, other than that, you never touched it. And with Ellie being Ellie, she made sure to tuck the bottle away at the very top of your cupboard with ease, where she knew you’d struggle to reach it, just so she could piss you off a bit.

Funny, Ellie seemed to always have a way of pissing you off.

When you finally managed to take the bottle down from the cupboard, you grabbed one of the only two shot glasses that you had in your house, the other belonging to Ellie, and you poured some of the clear liquid out for yourself.

Because lord knows with how this night was already going, you were going to fucking need it.

You threw it back, wincing as the vile liquid burned down your throat, making its presence in your body known as it traveled down into your stomach, settling in and making it feel as though a match was thrown into your body. Instantly, it was already making you feel looser, less tense, the worries you had about the party were still very much there, but they didn't seem to matter as much.

And when you heard the knock on your door, you knew your date was there to pick you up.

Did you end up inviting Alex to be your plus one to the party that Ellie invited you to? Yes.

Did this somehow morph into a date between you and Alex? Yes.

Did you know what you were getting yourself into by inviting Alex, knowing how much worse this would make things with Ellie? Sort of, but you couldn't really find it in you to care in that moment.

Not when Alex was showering you in compliments the second you opened the door for her. Not when Alex looked amazing in her outfit, and smelled even better, making you swoon for her the second she was wrapping her strong arms around your waist and guiding her out to your car. And definitely not when Alex's hand on your thigh on the way there was making your little heart flutter and dance, thanking the heavens above for granting you such a pretty girl to take along to this party with, and hopefully make it so that it wouldn't have the bitter ending of you sulking home while Ellie and Sofia made out in a random room, making it so that you were forced to catch the bus home.

Yeah, there was no way in hell you were letting Ellie ruin this for you.

It wasn't long until you both arrived at the house where the party was being held. Had it been any other day, the sight of drunk college kids, loud music, and the smell of beer and weed would have made you scrunch up your nose in disgust and walk back to your cozy little apartment, to make a warm cup of tea and cuddle up in your bed. But you were tipsy, you felt really fucking hot, and the longer Alex had her hands on you, the needier you felt.

It was time you finally give into the cliche world of being a college student, and lived a little. Because if not now, then when?

Alex had her hand slung loosely around your hips, her strong fingers slipped into your belt loop as she kept you close, toying with the soft sliver of skin that peeked out between the waist band of your jeans, and the bottom of your top. Upon walking into the house, you were glad to see that it wasn't a huge frat party. It was a bit more laid back, with the majority of the party goers splayed out within the living room, already having drunk or high conversations. Or they were in the kitchen, making drinks, or some even opted to head outside in the front yard or the back, the cold autumn air acting as an escape from the warmth that emitted from inside the house.

You feel glad that you don't spot Ellie and Sofia as soon as you walk in, knowing that, that was a confrontation that you were not drunk enough to face. You hum softly as Alex leans into you, your hand slipping down between the both of you as you interlock your fingers with hers, and drag her along to the kitchen.

That's how you find Alex pressed up against you, her strong hands resting against the edge of the counter top, hard chest pressing into your back, chin resting against your shoulder as she watches you pour out two drinks into red solo cups for you and her. She whispers sweet words in your ears, and to remember that she's driving you home, to make sure that you don't add any liquor to her cup. You giggle softly as you nod, melting into the girls touch, her soft caress and her even softer words. It's hard to remember the last time you were touched like this, given this sort of attention, told these sort of words. You figure that you could get used to it, especially when it's coming from her.

When you turn around in her arms, her hands are on your hips, giving them a slight squeeze as she smirks down at you. Both drinks are in your hand, and you simply stare up at her, your bottom lip tugged between your teeth, an overwhelming sense of warmth spreading throughout your chest, making it feel as though you could pounce this girl at any given moment-

And then it all stops.

Because suddenly, through the lust that you feel for Alex, your lips merely inches apart, the sound of someone clearing their throat somehow makes it through the music, cutting right in between the two of you and forcing you to look in the direction of where the sound was coming from, and you’re only met with Ellie.

A very angry, and annoyed, Ellie.

Her green eyes are dark, casted downward as she stares at you and Alex. She has a solo cup hanging loosely between her strong fingers, sharp jaw clenching as her eyes slowly drift between you and Alex, finally settling on you and giving you a look of disbelief, almost as if to ask if you were serious, and if this was some stupid fucking joke that you had.

And it’s so fucking awkward, that you have no choice but to break the silence.

“Ellie!” You chirp out, handing one of the cups to Alex before you turn to her, giving her an apologetic look, to which she simply sighs and gives you a nod before she briefly glares in Ellie’s direction.

You inhale deeply before you make your way over to your friend, clutching your cup slightly as you give her a smile. “Hey…sorry I didn’t come looking for you, did you and Sofia get in alright-“ Ellie immediately cuts you off, because you’re clearly trying to ease the burn of Alex being there, and you aren’t even sure why, because you truly don’t owe Ellie a single thing.

“What the fuck did you bring her for?” She gets straight to the point, and you can tell just how much she’s been smoking from her voice. It’s low, and rough, and if the way she was questioning wasn’t making you so fucking annoyed.

You would’ve been soaking wet just from the sound of it.

You raise your eyebrows in disbelief, a soft scoff leaving your lips as she give her a shrug. “Because I can? I didn’t know I was suddenly banned from bringing people places with me” you challenge her, your eyebrows furrowed as you stare up at the tall girl. Ellie chuckles softly, her tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek as she looks down at the floor before she nods slowly, smirking down at you.

“You know what? You can…don’t mind me” she hums out, a bit to casually for how angry she sounded mere moments ago. Her sudden change of tone makes you blink a few times, trying to see if you heard her correctly. You were convinced that this weird situation was going to turn into an argument, and you’d finally blow up on your best friend for acting fucking weird…

But that wasn’t at all what was happening.

“Oh…okay then…” you mumble out awkwardly, suddenly feeling small under Ellie’s gaze. Her eyes are low, and you can feel the way she’s eating you up, taking you in and shamelessly raking down every inch of your body with her emerald orbs that just seem different tonight than they have on any other night.

You both stay there for a few moments longer, and your skin begins to burn with the need to get away from the extremely awkward situation, making your mind cloudy with confusion as you’ve never once felt that way about Ellie. She’s a person you relate with the feelings of comfort, and warmth.

And now? You just needed to get away from her.

You inhale deeply, taking a large gulp of your drink that was far too strong, the contents burning your throat, which makes you wince as it travels down your body and settles in your stomach. You give Ellie a nod, clearing your throat as you avoid eye contact with her at all times. “Right, so….I’ll uh…I’ll catch you later” you try, giving your friend a half smile as you’re already making your way out of the kitchen to find Alex.

Ellie on the other hand? Simply gives you a slow nod, her eyes still shamelessly eating you up as you walk o it of the kitchen.

The only thing on your mind? Was that you needed to get drunk and forget about everything that just happened.

The laugh that leaves your body is almost too much to handle, your hand coming up to cover your mouth as you lean into Alex, your face mere inches from your neck as you rest your weight against her, your feet feeling wobbly underneath you. Her hand was placed loosely on your hip, smiling lazily as she watched you lose yourself at another one of the jokes she had made.

The night had carried on after the situation with Ellie in the kitchen. After that, you had quickly found your way to Alex, relief settling in once you were finally able to enjoy the party with your date. You two were stuck to each other like glue from that point on, the vibes of the party making it easier to loosen up around Alex and truly get to know her outside of an academic setting, which was the main place of your relationship with her thus far. However, there was a looming presence that you simply could not shake from your spot with Alex at the bottom of the stairs, tucked away from everyone else.

Ellie.

Her eyes never left yours from her point on the couch. A blunt was loosely hanging from her tattooed hand, lifting it up and taking a drag ever so often, a beer in the other, and to make things even worse? She had Sofia propped right on her lap the entire time she watched you.

And as much as you tried to ignore it? Ellie’s glares were lethal. She made no attempt in hiding it, or pretending like she wasn’t keeping an eye on you and Alex like a fucking hawk the entire night. After about the tenth time of catching her run her tongue along her teeth every time Alex tried getting closer, you’d had enough.

Its how you ended up in your current position. You had dragged Alex to the kitchen with you, and she had taken a seat on the island, where you made your own spot standing between her spread legs. The more you drank, the funnier Alex got, and you suddenly couldn’t breath every time she spewed another silly joke your way.

You hummed softly, coming down from your laughing fit and finally catching your breath. Alex smirked softly at you, watching as you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, glossy eyes growing hazy, and giving the dreamiest look, strands of hair cascading down into your face, which made her push to the side to get a better look at you. It was like a movie, the universe setting up the most perfect time for you and her to finally do it, to finally break the barrier and press each others lips against one another…

But this isn’t a movie, and none of this is perfect.

You realize that, when you feel Alex’s body get shoved to the side, causing you to gasp softly and grip your cup a bit tighter, as well as grip Alex’s arm to make sure she isn’t pushed off of the island counter entirely. You’re ready to yell at whatever asshole made it a point to sit right next to you and Alex, when there’s not only an entire kitchen, but an entire house with thousands of other places to sit, because who on earth would do something so inconsiderate.

Ellie. Ellie Williams would.

Her laugh is something you’d always loved, when she was high, it was loud and boisterous and electrifying, and it had the power to make even the saddest person laugh. You especially loved it, when her voice would crack, and she’d shed a tear because whatever she was laughing at was far too much to handle.

But right now, in this very moment, her laugh was like nails on a chalkboard.

She laughs loudly, taking a seat right next to Alex on the island counter top, adjusting her worn out backwards baseball cap on her head, blunt perched between her lips, and taking a long drag before she blows the smoke right into Alex’s face. “Shit…my bad, man. I’ve just been looking everywhere for my two favorite people!” She chuckles out. Her words make you wince.

You’re frowning right at her, because you know exactly what she’s doing, her eyes are red, lips are plump and pink from all the biting and sucking she’d most definitely been doing, and her eyes never leave Alex’s, studying her face like she was a predator studying their prey, looking for all the flaws they could use to wiggle their way into the cracks.

And you realize, Ellie Williams was fucking cock blocking you.

You inhale deeply, trying to control your temper before you give Ellie a very exaggerated smile. “So nice of you to join us, Ellie….but I’m sure you have other things to do, why don’t you just…catch us later?” You try, your voice desperately trying to get Ellie away from the both of you, your eyes practically bulging out of your head as you try to silently tell your friend to leave.

But she ignores you completely.

Alex, being the angel that she is, simply chuckles softly as she shakes her head. “Not a problem…the more the merrier, right?” She nods, her words genuine. Her hand reaches down, wrapping around your waist and pulling you forward to be tucked into the side of her body, which warms you up.

A flash of anger ripples through Ellie’s expression, her face hard as she eyed the way Alex pulls you in before she quickly shakes it away, giving Alex a nod as she lifts the blunt to her lips once again. “You smoke?” She questions casually, her eyes drifting towards you for a brief moment before she blows the smoke away from you and Alex. Alex hums softly as she nods, “I do…but I’m DD tonight, so I’ve gotta pass” she politely declines, her long fingers rubbing a sliver of your exposed skin mindlessly.

Ellie rolls her eyes, giving a playful scoff “ahhh don’t be stupid, do you see this house? You and the princess here can crash in any one of’em” she smirks softly, eyeing you for a moment, watching the way you become bashful at the nickname. Alex sighs softly, looking down at you for a moment before she gives a half shrug. “Why the hell not…” she mumbles under her breath, taking the blunt from Ellie and bringing it to her lips, Ellie watching with the most mischievous look on her face, it almost looks fucking comical.

And that, was Alex’s first mistake.

Because sure, Alex had smoked a few times. She liked to pop an edible on nights where she couldn’t sleep or she needed a bit of rest and relaxation. So of course, she wasn’t at all a stranger to the angel that was Mary Jane herself.

But she had no idea, what Ellie was packing.

Ellie had always prided herself on having the best weed on campus, the college kids flocking to her every time she rolled up at a party. She had anything and everything you could think of, each strain providing something different for its users.

And for her? Her tolerance was high of course, so she would opt for something a bit stronger. The thing about that, is that not everyone could handle what Ellie smoked.

Alex was a prime example of that.

It only took about three passes between her and Ellie for Alex to be stumbling off of the counter and towards the couch, mumbling something about needing to be somewhere ‘soft’. You knew things were trouble as soon as Ellie was giving that smirk as she watched Alex pull from the blunt, one that looked like she’d already won whatever stupid battle she was playing with Alex.

Before you knew it, you were helping Alex up the stairs to a spare bedroom, struggling yourself because you were still very much drunk, helping her into bed, and watching her as she shoved her face into the pillow, let out a loud groan, and promptly passed out.

Alex had indeed, greened out.

You let out a soft huff as you stood back, watching the girl for a moment and thinking about everything she was experience, wishing you were able to take it all away and rewind time back to that moment in the kitchen, when your lips were mere inches apart, so close to tasting one another and cutting through this stupid slow burn that you had between one another.

But by the looks of that stupid smirk of triumph on Ellie’s lips as she watched you tug the girl to the stairs and to a spare bedroom, that wasn’t written in the stares for you.

You were so confused, and as you walked out of the bedroom, closing the door behind you and making sure no one would walk in and interrupt her slumber, all you could think about is why Ellie was doing this. She was sabotaging you, that was without a doubt, but you just couldn’t understand why. Surely, you weren’t so blind that you wouldn’t be able to see that Alex was a bad person. You felt like your judgment of character was quite good, looking back at everyone you’d ever trusted, and trying to figure out if you’d ever gone wrong with who that wasn’t

But you couldn’t, nothing came up.

You pouted softly, making your way back into the kitchen and grabbing another cup and filling it with a drink. You figured, you might as well get your moneys worth through this damned party, and as much as you wanted to confront Ellie, you weren’t sure you could handle her reasoning behind doing what she did to you.

But alas, Ellie seemed to have continued her streak on making herself present in places that you wished she wasn’t, because as you were making your way to sit down at the bottom of the stairs, staring down into the orange color of your drink that was being distorted by the lights floating around in the party, you suddenly felt the familiar presence standing over you.

“Damn…a few pulls and that’s what takes her out? I think I’m doing you a favor, princess” you don’t even have to look up to know that she has that stupid fucking smirk on her lips. You let out a low sigh, resting your forehead against the palm of your hand before you bring your cup to your lips, taking another sip.

“I really don’t have time for this right now, Ellie. I’m finishing this, and then I’m going to bed with Alex” you explain, trying your best to put an end to this pointless conversation. You finally look up at her, giving her an unamused look. She’s seemed to have ditched her blunt and her baseball cap, a red solo held lazily between her hand as she takes a sip as well. Her smirk is gone once she hears your words, rolling her eyes as she leans against the wall next to the stairs.

“Seriously? You’re still interested in that idiot after what just happened? Isn’t she even the slightest bit pathetic to you?” She tried, and you swear you can hear her voice falling to a desperate tone. You scoff, unable to pay her tone any mind as you raise your eyebrows in disbelief.

“Her? The only one pathetic here is you, Ellie. I’m not stupid, I know exactly what you’re doing…the fact that you even had the time to do that was pathetic. Where even is Sofia? Don’t you have her to keep you occupied?” You practically spit out, unable to stop your words from sounding as harsh as they do. You know you’ll regret it later, despite the fact that Ellie very much deserved it.

Ellie eyed you carefully, bringing her cup to her lips before she gave a shrug that was far too nonchalant for what she was saying. “Dunno…she left a while ago” she mumbles out, staring at the bottom of your cup.

The way she says it, the way she had almost zero regard for the girl that she was raving about with stars in her eyes was almost scary, a chill running up your spine as you watched your friend.

You blinked a few times before you inhaled deeply, looking around at the house you were sitting in. The amount of people had lessened greatly since when you first arrived. What used to be a couch full of people was now only filled with a couple, passed out and wrapped up in each others arms. You sighed softly, throwing back the rest of what was in your cup down your throat before you shoved the empty cup towards Ellie’s chest. “I’m gonna go to bed….let me know when you wanna start acting normal again” you sigh out softly, turning around to begin walking up the stairs. A strong hand on your wrist stops you.

You frown, turning around and looking down to see Ellie’s tattooed hand squeezing your wrist, making you sigh softly. You try tugging your hand out of her grasp, clearly not in the mood for anymore of her tricks. “Ellie…come on. Im drunk, I’m tired, I am severely touch deprived, and right now, I just really wanna go to bed” you mumble out, your voice tired as you try wiggling your way out of her right hold on your hand, your hazy eyes looking up at her for a moment.

Thats when you catch it, that look of desperation that had become so frequent in your best friend. It was like she was begging you for something, begging for you to understand what she was saying, or what she was feeling. It makes your heart hurt, because it makes you realize that for the first time in the many years of your friendship with Ellie, you can’t understand her. You can’t read her feelings like you can your own, and the worst part of it all?

You can’t help her.

It makes you frown deeply, and you open your mouth to say something, to speak softly to your friend and try to come to a moral high ground where you could put aside her behavior, and try to understand what the root of it was. But before you can speak, you’re suddenly being dragged up the stairs.

You nearly trip over your own feet, the chunky sandals you decided to wear, paired with the alcohol in your system made it extremely hard to keep up with Ellie’s quick pace. You aren’t really sure how someone who’d spent the entire night drinking and smoking was able to move with such dexterity. You open your mouth to try and protest, to try and ask Ellie where on earth she was taking you, but those questions are all answered, because soon she’s tugging you into another spare bedroom, and locking the door behind her.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion as you watch your friend lock the door, and remorse you felt for her suddenly gone as it was now replaced with pure annoyance. “Seriously, Ellie? I told you I don’t have time for any games” you groan out, moving your arms so that they were crossed over your chest. You expect her to give you another witty remark, one that was about you or Alex, about how stupid you are for going for someone like that. But she doesn’t do that, in fact, she doesn’t say anything. Ellie begins pacing back and forth in front of you, her strong hand coming up to run through her short brown hair, making it fall down in front of her face again as she stares down at the ground deep in thought.

Her actions make you scoff, rolling your eyes as you sigh out loudly. “And now you’re pacing…you know I was going to cut you some slack. I was going to let all of this go because frankly, I don’t want to deal with your bizarre behavior, but now that we’re here and you’re literally in front of me pacing as it I did something wrong, I can’t let it go anymore! You know what, Ellie…I’ve been so patient with you and I think that-“ your rant is cut off, and at first you aren’t really sure what’s happening. Your brain struggles to register what it is that’s happening, what it is that’s forced your rant shorter than you had wished. But when you finally come to, you aren’t sure if any of this is even real anymore.

Because suddenly, Ellie is kissing you.

You were too caught up in your rant, that you didn’t even realize Ellie had stopped pacing, and was staring at you with a conflicting look, before she inhaled deeply and was nearly stomping towards you, cupping both of your cheeks with her hands and pressing her lips on yours.

All of your words die down in your throat, and you’re melting into the kiss, and you can’t remember how many times you’d though about this. You can’t remember all the times you’d dreamed of Ellie doing this exact thing. Grabbing you, and kissing you like her life depended on it, like she needed your lips to breath, acting as a lifeline that kept her connected to the real world. Your hands went up to grip her wrists softly, a quiet whine leaving your lips and going directly to Ellie’s, and it makes her groan.

Her hands leave your face, and the lack of warmth on your cheeks makes you whine softly, but you aren’t without it for long, because her large hands slowly travel down your body, running along your soft skin until they settle on your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze before they slide down further, resting on your ass, to which she gives a firm squeeze.

Her grip makes you gasp, and she takes the advantage of pushing her tongue into your mouth, exploring you entirely and making you moan into her. Her mouth is warm, and wet, and it makes all of the blood in your body rush to your core. Your hands go to her chest, tugging at her shirt slightly as you let her dominate the kiss, playing with your tongue as she pleased, your head clouded with the an ever growing lust for your best friend.

“Ellie…” you moan softly into her mouth, the sound makes her groan, giving your ass a firm squeeze before her head drops down to attack your neck in kisses, her mouth licking, sucking, and biting on the soft skin of your throat. She isn’t sure she’s ever heard a sound so sweet, a sound that had the capability of throwing her into a frenzy of lust so quickly. “Lemme take care of you…” she mumbles out against your skin, giving your throat a playful nip.

It makes you whine softly, and before you can nod, beg her for everything you’d ever imagined, everything you’d ever wanted from her, a heavy, looming thought settles in. It’s like a dark cloud, one that quickly rains down on you and drenches you from the inside out, reminding you of why you couldn’t do this.

Sofia.

The name echos throughout your mind, and it makes you frown deeply, because it reminds you that this is wrong, and you couldn’t do this. You refused to be this, to be the other woman to your best friend of all people.

You frown deeply, shaking your head as you try to push Ellie away from you. “But…Sofia…” you mumble out, opening your mouth again to explain why you couldn’t do this, why she couldn’t do this, but Ellie quickly cuts you off with her lips on yours. She swallows down the words that were hanging off the edge of your lips, shaking her own head as she gives your hips a gentle squeeze.

“Isn’t here….you don’t need to worry about her right now…” she hums against your mouth, kissing you once more before she breaks the kiss, staring deep into your eyes, her own one’s blown out and lust filled. Her strong, calloused fingers go to grip your chin, angling your face so you’re staring up at her. “This is about you, and me right now…okay?” She promises, her words genuine, her eyes filled with something you can’t exactly make out.

And as much as the little voice inside your head screams at you to stop, to leave and go elsewhere, your heart is doing something entirely different, and the look in Ellie’s eyes is one you can’t deny.

So, you give in to her.

You stare into her eyes for a moment longer before you give her the tiniest nod, giving your trust to the girl. With that, she presses her lips against yours, the kiss was needy and sloppy and there were so many emotions put into it. Your head was spinning because you couldn’t understand the fact that this was actually happening.

You were actually kissing Ellie.

Through the clouds of your mind, Ellie begins pushing you back until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, her hand pressing against your chest gently and pushing you back to sit on the bed. You stare up at her when she does this, your eyes wide and needy, and it makes Ellie groan. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty…” she mumbles out, more so to herself than to you. You bite your lip softly, watching closely as she crawls over your body, pressing kisses against your exposed collar bones and neck until she reaches your lips again, taking the breath from your lungs away once again.

Ellie hums against you, relishing in the taste of your mouth, her hands traveling down your body until they reached your jeans, her skilled fingers undoing them. You pout softly, breaking away from the kiss and looking down at Ellie’s tattooed hand tugging at the waistband of your jeans. Ellie chuckles softly at the look on your face, to which she leans in and presses a kiss to your pouty lips.

“I told you…M’gonna take care of you…you trust me, don’t you baby?” She questioned, her green eyes staring into yours, hand massaging your waist gently. It feels like you can’t breath, because the look in her eyes, and the names she’s calling you are all things straight out of a fairy tale, and it makes you wonder whether this is all a dream or not. Even if it was, you decided you’d enjoy it to its fullest.

You stare down at Ellie’s lips before looking into her eyes and giving her a nod. “Of course I trust you, Els…” you hum out softly, giving her a gentle smile. The sound of your voice, and the little smile you give her makes her heart feel like it’ll burst, and she’s smiling with you, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your lips before she gives you a nod and kisses down your body until she’s on your knees in front of you.

Ellie brought her hands up to the back of either one of your knees, pulling you so your legs were spread, and you were at the edge of the bed. You propped yourself up on your palms, pressing them into the bed as you stared down at Ellie. You inhaled deeply, trying to fight off the intense butterflies you felt in your stomach, the feeling enough to make your head spin. Ellie stared up at you, gently tugging your jeans off your body and tossing them to the side. She presses a kiss to your inner thigh, humming softly as she kissed her way to your clothed core, her lips ghosting over the place you needed her most. “You’re in good hands with me, Angel…I promise” she assured you, giving you another slight nod before she presses the softest kiss to your pussy.

You gasp softly, watching as Ellie’s eyes never leave yours, scanning your face the entire time to make sure you liked what she was doing. She smirks softly against you as she watches the way you tug your bottom lip between your teeth, the way your eyes grow darker, filled with lust as you stare down at her. Both of her strong hands grip your thighs, keeping you spread for her as her kisses on your pussy grow firmer, making you whine. “Ellie…please…” you beg, and it makes her smirk against you again.

“So needy…tell me…what is it that you want, baby? Who’s tongue are you needy for?” She purrs out, her voice low and dripping with lust as she pulls your panties to the side painfully slow. You whine softly at the feeling of the cool air of the bedroom hitting your bare, wet pussy, it forces your hips to buck forward a bit.

“Yours…I want your mouth on me Ellie…please…don’t tease…” you moan out, your head tilting to the side as you watch her movements closely, hoping it’ll somehow make her speed up. She chuckles softly, a low hiss leaving her lips as she watches a string of your arousal connect to your cotton panties. She bites her lip, tugging them further to the side to get a good look at your core.

“Fuck yeah…look at how fucking wet you are, princess…so needy for me…” she hums out, getting a good look at your pussy before she slowly brings her mouth to your core, tauntingly slow, eyes never leaving yours. “For me, right? It’s all for me?” She questions, voice low. There’s a hint of desperation, like she needs to hear that it’s for her, she needs confirmation that this is her doing, and no one else’s.

It makes you moan loudly.

You give an eager nod, your hands fisting the sheets underneath you. “Yours! It’s all…all for you Ellie..” you confirm, because despite the cloudiness in your head, through all of it, there’s no doubt that she’s doing this to you, that Ellie is the reasoning behind the state you were in. Ellie smiles, and it’s like she’s so proud of you, like you’ve made her the happiest girl in the world just by telling her the truth.

You want to stick with that for a moment, look deeper into it and figure out what it is that you’ve said that’s made her so happening, but you can’t, because your head is spinning once Ellie latches her plump lips against your core, latching onto your clit and sucking like her life depended on it.

You throw your head back, back arching in pleasure almost painfully. Ellie watches in awe, because you look like a work of art, the prettiest painting, the most detailed sculpture, none of it can compare to the way your chest rises and falls, the way your lips swell, or the way your eyes become low and dreamy. You’re better than any work of art in the world, and it makes her feel lucky to even be here with you.

Her tongue is lapping at your core, watching as jolts of electricity travel through your body with each flick of her tongue to your sensitive little bundle of nerves, and she feels proud of herself for giving you this pleasure, for making you feel this way. You moan out Ellie’s name loudly, your head falling down and tilting to the side as you watch her closely. You want to remember it forever, you want to take this moment and burn it into your mind so you know that it’s real, and that this actually happened.

“So…so pretty…” you moan out, finding it hard to form coherent sentences through the blur of pleasure to felt, and the cloudy feeling that came with the alcohol. You felt numb and hypersensitive all at the same time, and the sensation of that made your head spin. Ellie groans softly against you, giving you an encouraging nod as she flicks her tongue against your weeping core.

And you suddenly feel it, that tight, coiling feeling at the pit of your stomach. It makes your legs shake, it makes your hips grind agains Ellie, forcing your pussy to grind against her face, desperately seeking your orgasm, needing to feel that familiar feeling of bliss wash over you, and you suddenly can’t help but wish that this doesn’t end, that this moment lasts forever.

“Ellie…Els I…fuck….mmmph…m’close!” You announce, your back arching further as you feel it growing closer, and closer and closer and the second you’re right there at the edge….

Its gone. And you realize, you need to be careful what you wish for.

You look down, a soft whine leaving your lips as you look at Ellie below you. Her face is soaked with your arousal, pupils blown out with lust, and bottom lip tugged between her teeth. You open your mouth to complain, to whine and tell her how close you were, but a shiver runs down your spine when Ellie brings her fingers to your core, rubbing circles ever so slowly into your throbbing clit.

“Look at you…poor baby wants to cum so badly, hm?” She hums out, voice tauntingly low as she stared up at you, eyes shining as she slowly toyed with your pussy. You can’t even respond, your hips buck up into her fingers, and she’s quickly clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth, and bringing one of her hands down to hold your waist steady

“Ooh, not so fast…I think you need to wait a little bit longer, baby” she explained, voice so low and sweet, it made your head spin. You let out a soft huff, tugging at the sheets beneath you further as you try moving your hips again. “Ellie..that’s…it’s not fair…I’m so close..” you explain, your demeanor clearly switching to one that was needy and huffy.

Ellie chuckles softly, nodding slowly as she continues toying with your pussy so slowly, it feels like torture. “No…no it isn’t fair” she hummed out, slowing her fingers down even more, which was something you weren’t sure was even possible.

She hums softly as she looks down at your poor, weeping pussy, biting her lip softly as she continued rubbing small circles into your clit, pulling you closer towards the edge, just to rip it all away from you, all over again.

“You know what else isn’t fair?” She questioned softly, her eyes now trailing up to yours, her fingers speeding up a bit. As much as you wanted her mouth, anything was better than nothing at this point, and you barely had the mind to give her a proper response. You whined softly, arching your back as you felt it again, growing closer to the edge. Ellie smirked softly as she watches you, going even faster before she leans in and gives your pussy a long lick, which makes you nearly scream.

“How much you hurt me, baby…” she mumbles out, and you can hear that she’s pouting. Her words make your eyebrows furrow, and you look down at her, whining and moaning through the pleasure as you try to see if you’ve heard her correctly. “W-what?” You whimper out, and it causes her to chuckle softly again.

“God, you’re so fuckin cute…” she whispers softly before she nods, a soft hum leaving her lips before she continues speaking. “You hurt me so much, princess….you and that stupid fucking girl…makes me so upset seeing you together, especially when I know I’d treat you so much better” she pouted out again, watching you as you fell apart above her. You’re sure you aren’t hearing her correctly this time. You’re sure that it’s the alcohol, and the pleasure, and everything else you’re experiencing that’s making you hear things.

There’s so much going on in her head, and you can’t even focus on it because she’s clicking her tongue again, and it’s almost like she feels sorry for you, for how much of a wreck you’ve become at the hands of her, at the workings of her tongue.

“And you don’t even fucking realize it too…that’s what pisses me off the most…” she groans out, speeding up her fingers, watching as you whine and wither for her. “You never fucking have…” she mumbles out that part a bit quieter, as it she hopes you don’t here it, or as if that part isn’t for you to hear.

She smirks softly, green eyes trailing up to watch you as she hums. “I think for the at…I shouldn’t give this to you so easily, huh? Pretty girl?” She continues, and you’re shaking your head before she can even finish her sentence. Somehow, out of all the outlandish things that have passed her lips within the last few minutes, that’s the only thing you can focus on and respond to, and that makes her chuckle.

“Ahh, but you can respond to that…” she teases, humming softly as she gently pushes her pointer and index finger into you, watching as your face contorts with pleasure, and it makes her groan softly. “I can’t even imagine how good you’d look taking my cock…you’re made for it…” she groans out through gritted teeth, watching as you moan and whine while she slowly fucks her fingers in and out of you.

At this point, you’ve been denied your orgasm so many times, you’re sure she��s going to do it again. You’re practically preparing for the second she stops, egging you on further until you’re crying for her. You let out a pathetic little whine, your legs threatening to close, and keep her out, to which she pouts. “Shutting me out already? But I haven’t even made you cum yet” she taunts, watching you with a look of pity before she leans in closer to your core, her warm breath wafting against your weeping pussy.

“I know you want it…you always have, haven’t you baby?” She smirks softly, eyeing you as her fingers come to a complete stop inside of you.

And that, that is what throws you over the edge.

Because you can’t take it anymore, one of your hands goes to the back of her head, grabbing a fistful of hair and pressing her face against your core. This results in a low groan from Ellie, one of her hands squeezing your thigh the second you push her in, and her tongue working on your core immediately. She’s just as desperate as you are, tongue lapping at your cunt like a hungry dog, wet noises of squishing and squelching echoing throughout the room, bouncing off the walls and making you feel even more aroused than before.

Her fingers inside of you begin pumping once again, and you finally feel it, that warm feeling you felt earlier, yet this time it’s stronger. All of the orgasms you’d been denied had built up together to create something explosive, electrifying, you could practically feel the energy building up within your body, begging to be released.

And the second you looked down into Ellie’s eyes, seeing the way she was watching your every move, watching the way your face contorted in pleasure, the way your lips parted to let the most wonderful noises escape…

You were done for.

You came so hard, you saw white. It was like you’d died and gone to an afterlife where there was nothing but bliss, a euphoric state that left you almost feeling like you were no longer a body, but a soul. Your back arched so hard it was painful, you were sure to be sore in the morning. It was all too much, too powerful, too erotic.

When you came down from your high, all you could hear were Ellie’s praises. She called you a good girl, she called you her good girl, and she was so proud of you for how well you did, how well you took her. And all you could feel, was Ellie’s strong arms pulling you back into the bed, into her arms as she tugged the covers over your limp body, everything you felt was distant, it was hard to even compute what was real and what wasn’t.

And the last thing you felt before you fell into the most blissful sleep you’d ever experienced, was Ellie’s lips pressing the softest, sweetest kiss to yours.

[waterkittywriting]

Arguing with Mori

Warnings: Mori in general, hitting, he's a lil possessive yk, age gap (reader is 18/19, Mori is 40), he's a bitch, not proofread, kinda unhealthy relationship

Characters: Mori Ougai

A/N: this is the only thing I can bring myself to write bc I've been obsessed with Mori recently. Sue me. This is heavily inspired by a scene in Lolita 1997 because that movie is fucking relatable and it's all I can think about recently.

"Alright, that's it."

The car screeched noisily as Mori pulled over, thankful for the relatively empty roads making it an easy task. You two had been fighting over something stupid - but you made it just a little too serious with that last comment.

"You want to disrespect me in my own car? Then get out. You can walk home yourself. I don't care." He hissed.

It was pouring out, and there was even some thunder. It was about 3 miles till you got home, not too long in the car but to walk? It would be terrible. "Are you fucking kidding me?" You scoff, staring at him with disbelief in your eyes. "It's 9pm, pouring rain, and you're gonna make a teenage girl walk home alone? Are you trying to get me killed you dickhead?!"

"I'm not making you do anything. All I want is a simple apology and we can drive home normally, and pretend this didn't happen." He leans back in the driver's seat, taking his hands off the steering wheel.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" You screamed. "Like actually, what is wrong with you?! You say you love me then all you wanna do is fuck! And when we have a normal argument, like a normal couple, you lose your shit and do things like this!" You were going to continue, but you were cut off by the most menacing look you'd ever seen him direct at you. You'd seen that face before, of course, directed at nosy subordinates or people who were doing him wrong, but never at you. Never at you.

You stop talking and move to unbuckle your seatbelt, ready to leave the car, but Mori stops you by wrapping a single hand around both your wrists, pulling them towards him before you could even unbuckle. "I thought you wanted me to leave." You snarled.

"Quite the contrary, dear. I would love for you to stay, but if you're going to keep acting like a little brat I might just shove you out of the car myself." He says smoothly, his voice dripping with condescension.

"Oh, so now you're holding me captive? You're a kidnapper and a creep? I mean seriously, what forty year old man dates-" you're cut off by a harsh slap on your cheek and a stinging sensation as he lets go of your wrists and sighs heavily, resting his elbow on the center console and his forehead in the palm of his hand. "God, you make it so difficult to love you sometimes."

You can't help it. Your lip starts to quiver and you start wailing as you turn around and shove the car door open, pushing yourself out of the car and onto the sidewalk. You begin to run away, you're not sure where you're going but you need to get away. Away from him. You're followed by the sounds of him calling your name and the door of his car opening and closing.

You don't look behind you but you know he's running after you, you can hear his footsteps and the heavy breathing until he finally catches up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you against him from behind. By now you're both absolutely soaked in rain water, your clothes sticking to your skin and against his as he holds you there.

You turn around so you can sob into his chest, choking and coughing out apologies into his wet jacket. Eventually he leads you back to the car, opening your door for you and buckling your seatbelt.

Once you're both buckled and in the car you're silent. Neither of you can bring yourselves to say anything. You know he's not going to apologize for hitting you no matter how guilty he may or may not feel. He never apologizes, he just brings you designer purses and beautiful makeup the next day and it's enough to get you to forgive him. It always is.

[r4fe-cam3ron]

Hello again! I have an idea for part two, if you like it.

What if y/n doesn’t take care of the wound (they’ve got a lot going on after all) and they start to get sick from it. Maybe they collapse/get really sick somewhere public. The Pogues don’t know what’s happening but Rafe does so he runs over and tries to help. Then all the Pogues are like ‘what the hell, how does he know?!’

If you like it, if not it’s totally fine! ❤️

an; oh my goodness, lovie (hopefully you see this plus the ones who requested a second part to my maybank!reader oneshot which you can find here!) i’m so so sorry that i had not replied to this sooner than i should’ve. there had been a lot going on along with a major writers block. i’m using this request to be sure i answer you and to thank you for being THIS patient. i will probably kind of change this request up a bit, but ill try to keep some of it in the writing! — just wanna also note im still only on season two of OBX !! so if anything is ooc, that is definitely why and i apologize! w; this honestly is longer than i wanted it to be but hey, what can you do? mentions of an injury, for this im still imagining s1 rafe (ignore s2 gif </333 thats the only one i could vibe with for this at the moment), mentions of drug and drug usage, abuse though i never directly speak of how anything happens, follows the show only slightly but not completely, a little something, something with john b though not quite disclosed (i added a scene just for this — hopefully that’s okay with everyone!)

the boneyard is somewhere nice to come when you need to think and pull away from reality for a bit. you were right — you would apologize to jj and help him with whatever john b and he needed help with.

you’d also told jj about what had happened after he had saw the bloody gauze in the bathroom trash.

you left out the part where rafe cameron had helped clean it up a bit better.

that was only three days ago. somewhere in between those short days, jj had landed himself in jail for sinking toppers boat.

to say luke was angry was a complete understatement.

the hundred dollar bill had floated down to your feet when he had called you out of hiding. you bent down to pick it up.

“you know what i want.”

getting the thing you know he wanted meant seeing rafe cameron storming out of the house and down the rickety old porch that squeaks under any weight.

he’s reaching for his helmet when he finally sees you, pausing when he notices the look on your face. you don’t looked surprised, or happy, to see him.

just disappointment.

pinching his brows together, he slips the helmet over his head without saying a word and giving you another glance. the dirt picks up behind him, leaving you in dust. he doesn’t want to dissect what that look you had given him made him feel.

the exchange is quick, with some banter barry throws your way. something about how good you look today and you know you don’t have to pay.

slipping the hundred dollar bill into your pocket this time, you pat his cheek and grab the baggie from his hand. with a quick ‘thanks, barry’, you’re gone.

apparently you’d taken too long this time for luke’s liking. after the screaming match and, quite frankly, your side bleeding again, you’d found yourself sitting on the course sand.

the back of your hand wipes angrily at your tears that continue to fall. your head is pounding and your side is throbbing from being practically ripped open once again over the already healing wound.

the back of your thighs itch and you feel queasy. the heels of your palms dig into your eye sockets, a strained yell leaving behind clenched teeth.

“we’ve been looking everywhere for you!” jj’s voice startles you and has your head quickly whipping around to watch as the small group heads your way. pope is saying something you can’t quite understand, kiara is trying to get him to slow down and speak normally for a second.

john b has a slight look on your face. your not quite sure if it’s a smitten look or a disgusted look. he’s carrying a six pack under his left arm and his backpack is slung over his right shoulder.

jj’s hands come and clamp onto your shoulder, jostling you slightly. you hope none of them notice the far off look on your face and how pale you suddenly feel.

you know, soon, everyone is about to join at the boneyard. it’s inevitable and happens on almost friday, strangely enough. you were hoping to beat the crowd before it actually started.

he sits next to you while pope, kie, and john b starts up a fire. “what’s going on?”

you look over at him. “hm? what do you mean?”

a frown tugs at his mouth and he sits up straighter. “what’s wrong? did something happen at—”

“j. i’m fine,” you nod. it’s a lie and jj knows it’s a lie. but you don’t want him to worry about you. “seriously. i’m okay. it’s nothing we haven’t been through before.”

jj stares at you sadly. you’re right, though, you shouldn’t be right. this shouldn’t be something you both are used to and something that’s come to be the ‘norm’ at home. if you could even call it a home.

he’s protective over you, the way you are of him. he remembers taking up for you and taking the fall for things just so you could catch a break every so often from the lashings of luke.

yet, you’d do the exact same for jj.

‘go hide in our spot, jj! cover your ears and hum a song, okay?’ he remembers watching with wide eyes as luke had dragged you by your arm into the other room. once the door slammed and he heard your crying, he’d crawl out from under the dinning room table and run outside towards the woods.

he would hum ‘piano man’ by billy joel. it was a strange song to hum, but you both would always sing it together when it came on the radio, dancing around on the small blanket that would lay on the grass with three half eaten peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. john b included — of course.

“but i always worry. im supposed to be there for you.” jj shakes his head.

“you take on to much, j,” your hand lands on his back, patting softly. “i could take this one.” the corner of your mouth quirks slightly upwards as you shrug, the tears beginning to well in your eyes again.

jj notices, but says nothing. he only nods slightly before looking out towards the waves. you hear the trucks and rowdy teens begin to pile in, sighing as you pull your arm away from jj and stand to dust your pants off.

—

you’re still feeling queasy, the crowd — separated, but yet still crowded — makes you feel even more uncomfortable and uneasy.

you stand near kiara and pope, listening to him talk about the interview he has for the scholarship, though you don’t truly know what he’s saying.

sweat beads around your hairline, a panicked feeling settling into your chest when you hear someone shout from behind you. you quickly turn your head, only to hear it quickly dissolve into laughter no longer than a second later.

you still search for some type of danger.

kiara’s eyes look at you, a worried expression etched onto her face. pope’s words slowly stall when he notices the look on her face, his own eyes moving to stare at you this time.

“are you okay?” her hand lands on your arm and you jump from the sudden touch.

you look over at her when she drops her hand, the worry on her face only grows. “i…yeah,” you look over to pope this time and nod. “i’m fine…i just…” you motion towards the ocean, your feet moving before you could even finish your sentence.

your mouth fills with saliva suddenly and the thought of vomiting in front of a bunch of people has you dizzy and even more panicked than before.

you can hear someone say something from behind you, but you’re too busy focusing on your breathing. a hand lands on your back and you glance over to the side.

the figure looks familiar. blinking a couple of times, you make out who it is.

“rafe?”

your voice is small, quivering and it looks like you’d been stuck in a hot trailer with the windows boarded down from how much you’re sweating.

“jesus.” he mutters. he watches as you try to stand straight, stumbling over your own feet. he’s quick to grab you before you could hit the ground, cradling your head and gripping your side as he lowers you more slowly.

“hey!” his jaw clenches when he notices who’s yelling at him. john b was the closest to where you two were standing. he knew you could stand your own ground, but he stayed close just in case.

and it looks like now would be a good time to intervene. “what did you do?!” he’s gaining attention from the others. topper being the second one to make his way over.

“nothing,” rafe snaps back. “she just passed out.”

“you expect me to really believe that she passed out as soon as you walked over?” john b kneels next to your other side, tilting your head over, cradling your jaw.

rafe watches the way his thumb drags across your cheek bone, gently shaking your head. his jaw clenches. “you expect me to really believe you care that she passed out when you could’ve came over here as soon as you seen me walking over?” his eyes quickly leave your face and stare at john b who says nothing.

“make yourself useful and go get a water bottle.” rafe grabs the hem of your hoodie, silently thankful that you had a tank top underneath. john b stands and watches quietly before running off towards the cooler.

“what happened?” topper finally speaks up when rafe slips the hoodie off. “rafe?”

“nothing happened, topper! i didn’t do anything!” rafe looks over at him with anger.

“rafe! get away from her!” jj stumbles across the sand as he makes his way over. he’s drunk, but he’s trying to collect himself the best he could. “i mean it!” he yells when he notices rafe sticking in the same spot.

jj yanks the water bottle from john b’s hand, kneeling next to him. he pushes rafe away and topper grabs rafe’s arm’s before he could successfully throw the punch he wanted too.

sarah stands to the side next to john b, and suddenly, he notices the crowd. his chest heaves and lands on you once again.

“is her side bleeding again?”

jj pauses and looks down at your side before slowly turning his head to stare at rafe. “how did you know about her side?”

rafe’s mouth parts, yet no words seem to come to mind. jj’s jaw clenches as he stares at him.

“i swear, cameron, i will—” he’s cut off by a deep inhale of breath, quickly looking over as you sit up the best you could, coughing. john b is quick to kneel down by you, a hand cradling the back of your neck to push you up.

your hands dig into the sand as your eyes look around frantically, chest heaving with heavy breaths, landing on rafe.

his body slowly grows less tense when he notices. jj sticks out the water bottle. “drink this,” he stands when you grab it. “how do you know about the cut on her side, rafe?”

before rafe could even come up with a snarky reply, you answer for him. “he helped.”

jj looks at you. “what?”

“he helped me during midsummers clean it up.”

jj stares at you for a moment longer before looking back at rafe. clenching his jaw, he shakes his head. “don’t come near her again, got it?” his brows lift slightly.

“that’s not up to you.” rafe shakes his head.

john b helps you from the ground. you thank him silently before making your way over. your hand lands on jj’s shoulder.

“let’s go, j.”

jj stays silent, but his threatening stare remains on rafe for a moment longer before he turns and makes his way up to where they had parked.

rafe watches him silently, but quickly glances down when your hand brushes against his. his eyes quickly jump up to your face.

“thank you.” you mouth.

he’s still for a moment but he eventually nods.

you give him a small, weak smile as you turn and walk away from him.

[noodlemoondle]

Drunken Care

Solomon x Reader

word count: 1.3k

cw: drinking/drunkenness, like ONE slightly suggestive scene, nudity? (i’m not rlly sure what to add here)

tags: fluff!, you’re drunk lol, caring solomon, bathing together, literally sleeping together

(idrk what to add here either lolol)

description: you get a bit too drunk at one of Diavolo’s balls and solomon brings you home and takes care of you

author’s note: posting this in honor of the end of obey me. i wrote this like over a year ago when nightbringer first came out so im not rlly a fan of how i wrote it but i rlly didn’t wanna rewrite the whole thing so i just fixed it up a bit. so i do apologize for that and anything i missed. also omfg i edited and fixed this like 3 different times bc tumblr KEPT FUCKING DELETING MY WORK. i was losing my mind but i rlly wanted to post it but i couldn’t post it unedited. also please bear with me as i sort thru all of my fics in my notes before i start writing new ones lolol.

N E wayzz i hope u enjoy!!! ·̀.̫·́✧

Diavolo’s balls were always fun. Sometimes it even seemed as if everyone in all of Devildom was invited to them. It was always fun to socialize and laugh with everyone, but eventually in the night you’d start feel a little left out since everyone would get drunk out of their minds and even though you didn’t necessarily mind the taste of demonus, you couldn’t really get drunk off of it so you don’t really see the point of drinking it. After a while, you’d just go hang out with Solomon since he’d be the only sober one left (not including Barbatos). Diavolo’s kind soul eventually took note this and made sure to get loads of human world alcohol so you and solomon could get as drunk as you please every time you were at the castle. Now this, made Diavolo’s parties the absolute best.

Solomon used to love getting drunk with you, but ever since you both got sent back in time he’s started to watch himself more since he knew how much you loved to get drunk with the brothers and someone needed to be able to watch over you. (and also since the last time he got super drunk he admitted some embarrassing things to you he’d rather not repeat). Tonight was no different, you were drunk out of your mind, greatly enjoying yourself, but it was just starting to get late and you needed to get home. Solomon had to forcefully drag you away before you died from alcohol poisoning (he swears you’re an alcoholic no matter how many times you deny it) you made sure to shoot him an angry glare with your bottom lip slightly poking out for dragging you away so early, but you eventually eased up on the drive home.

Solomon pulled up to the house and before you could get out of the car, he locked the door trapping you inside. In you confused, drunken state all you could do was was angrily stare at him as he made his way around to your door before opening it. He placed one hand on the roof of the vehicle, as he leaned inside to unbuckle your seatbelt.

“I don’t trust you to walk. Come here i’ll carry you.”

His princely act made you lose you forget your childish tantrum, replacing it with a childlike glee as you start giggling at him, jumping into his hold as he lifted you up. As he carried you to the door, you peppered his face and neck with kisses giggling and smiling with every peck you placed on him leaving a faint mark of pink lipstick on his skin. Solomon smiled down at you, adoring your cuteness whenever you got drunk. He begins to walk through the halls as he starts to make his way to the bathroom.

“Sol?” you ask innocently.

“Yes, baby?” he responds looking down and admiring your smile.

“You’re so pretty” you say accompanied with a smile.

“Angel?” he asks.

“Uh huh?” you say giggling obviously appreciating the name.

“You’re even prettier” he replies adding a kiss on your forehead as well.

You gasp and smile so big giggling even more. He looked down at you with all the love in all three worlds as he opened the bathroom door and placed you on the counter so he can start running a bath.

“Sol?” you ask again, beginning to kick your feet back and forth.

“Yes, darling?” he responds with a raised voice as the water begins to run.

“Do you know why i call you Sol?” you question.

He’s heard you tell him millions of times, but he never gets tired of the tale.

“No dear, why do you call me sol?” he says as he turns around to you smiling.

“Well not only is it because it’s a shorter version of your name, but did you know that in spanish sol means sun and you’re like my sun in life so it has two meanings!” you beam at him.

“You’re so cute you know that?” he says as he kissed your cheeks and lips

Solomon doesn’t think he’d ever get tired of telling you that. Telling you how much he loves you, how pretty you are, and how happy you make him. You wrap your arms around his neck as he continues to shower you with kisses. He then pulls away and pinches at your dress.

“C’mon now time to take this off” he says as he’s starting to slide it off your body.

“Why?” you ask him in a flirty tone smirking and tilting your head to the side.

“No. You’re drunk.” lightly slapping your back before kissing you again.

You pout and cooperate, lifting your arms up allowing him to undress you before undressing himself and getting in the bath. Solomon tries to bathe you, but isn’t very successful with you not letting go of him. Ss much as he loves you being a happy and affectionate drunk, you weren’t a very cooperative one. The soft environment and Solomon’s comforting embrace caused you to grow sleepier in the warm bath. He eventually got you to settle on his chest, laying your head on his shoulder, as he thoroughly shampoos and conditions your hair, softly humming.

Soon enough, he’s able to get both of you clean. He wraps you in a towel before bringing you to his room and placing you on his bed. He goes to his drawer to get you both clothes and you can do nothing more but just stare at him in awe as he leans over and picks out some clothes with nothing more than a towel covering his waist.

“Surprised you didn’t throw up. I think you drank your weight in shots. Now, which shirt you wanna wear?”

He said as he turned around only to find you looking at him with the most love struck face he could imagine.

“What are you staring at?” he questioned a breathy chuckle leaving his throat with it.

“You” you answered flatly.

“And who is you?” he teased walking up to you.

“You is my pretty, handsome, perfect, amazing, beautiful boyfriend solomon who i love so so so so so so so so so so SO much” you say looking up at him as if he is the only star in the sky.

“That was a lot of so’s” he laughs as he cups your face with one of his hands.

“I need more of them to describe how much i love you” you give a soft smile as he walks back to the dresser to put on his sleep pants leaving his chest bare while also choosing your sleepwear.

He walks over back to you and dresses you in one of his shirts he knew you favored and a pair of his boxers.

Once he finishes dressing you, he leans you back in bed and tucks you in following soon after. You’re quick to pounce on him the moment he enters the covers. You lay over his chest covering it in kisses, before you begin to settle down and start to fall asleep.

“Sol?” you whisper as quietly as you can. your sleepy voice had to be one of his favorites.

“Yes, angel?” he whispers back.

You move up on his chest getting close to his ear and quietly whisper: “I love you”

He chuckles pressing a kiss against your forehead and leaning down to your ear to mirror your action.

“I love you even more.” he whispers even quieter. it was a statement he made just for you, so only your ears should hear it.

You smile and bury yourself back into his chest, but before you could fall asleep you can feel him kiss the top of your head and smile against your head saying.

“You’re gonna regret drinking so much tomorrow”

[happypopcornprincess]

Chapter 4 || The Great War

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader

Premise - will they survive the great war?

Word Count - 4.7K

Warnings: Angst, blood, gore, mentions of death

a/n - so a short storytime about the delay in the updates, well, long short I was off with family for Holi and almost got caught writing smut :) sprained my hand, which is why I couldn't type for days but I pulled through as injuries can wait but not my will to complete Joaquin and y/n's story. also imp. note that the narratives will now skip between a lot of characters so please let me know if there is any confusion :) thank you for sticking around <3 hope you would like this chapter.

<< Chapter 3 || Series Masterlist || Chapter 5 >>

Scorching sun rays on your body, and the hot desert wind on your face, You squinted through the binoculars, but your focus was split. Kingpin’s lavish bungalow, his desert stronghold, was a fortress, and you weren’t just watching—you were breaching it.

You could have done a better job at it, if it wasn't for Joaquin, who'd decided to join you, armed with binoculars.

"You know," you said, your focus unbroken from your screen, "we could have just sent a drone. Less chance of getting sunburned."

"Drones get spotted," Joaquin replied, his voice flat. "Besides, someone has to make sure you don't pass out and roll down this hill."

"Oh, I'm touched," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm.

“When I said ‘I want to help you Sam’, I meant fighting by his side, not babysitting you.” Joaquin muttered loud enough for you to listen.

“I don’t need a babysitter.” you snapped, your eyes still glued to the scene before you.

“Give me one good reason why I'm stuck with you here and not on the scene with the team?”

“You volunteered for this, very enthusiastically, might I add,” you mutter under your breath.

“I just want to say if this fails… I’ll personally haunt you in the afterlife.” Joaquin growls.

“And I just wanna say if you keep running your mouth I might have to punch you.” you retorted, your fingers flying across the tab. The bungalow’s security system was a labyrinth, but you were navigating it, line by line.

“And I just wanna say, if I had a gun, I’d have already put a bullet through my skull,” Kate interjected, her voice laced with dark humor that made you both whirl around.

She settled between the two of you, pulling out her own binoculars, though her gaze was drawn to your screen. "And before you ask, no, I didn’t crawl up here for the view. I’m here to make sure you two don’t fry a circuit—or each other."

"Oh," you muttered, your focus intensely on the code scrolling across your screen. "Almost got past the third firewall..."

“No, ‘oh kate i’m so glad you’re alive?’ or ‘i’m sorry for being a jerk, kate.’ or, ‘hey how about we go to the movies after this to forget how we almost kicked each other’s butts the other day.’”

“You can just say you want to watch a movie with me,” you muttered, your eyes still trained on the gates.

“Seriously, Y/N?” she whined, but the edge in her voice was gone. “I’m sorry. I was… riled up. Watching Frank and Daredevil crash our mission, and the fact that he wanted to kill Fisk… I took it out on you.”

Kate’s voice dropped, becoming softer, almost hesitant. “And I said some really hurtful things to you. I wish I could take them back. I shouldn’t have said that.”

You took a deep breath, the weight of her apology settling on you, but your hands never stopped typing. "I know," you replied, your voice tight. "It’s alright. I get it." You patted her arm awkwardly, a brief, almost clumsy gesture, before returning to your screen. "Almost there… bypassing the internal sensors… got it!"

Joaquin, however, didn’t miss the subtle shift in your demeanor. His gaze lingered on you as he watched you work. 

"What are you doing now?" He asked.

"Disabling the cameras, and internal sensors." You reply without looking up. "Once I do that, I can let the team know where the blind spots are, and they can go in… Got it!”

You smile, and speak into the comms, “Sam, defenses down. All data is with redwing you can proceed. Good luck.”

Kate tapped both your shoulders, “good luck.” and she went back.

Joaquin stood up, deploying his falcon suit, and you followed, tightening your utility belt and strapping your tab inside your vest.

You winced, “ah!” gripping your wound as it sent a jolt up your body. Joaquin’s hand raised to reach for you, but he retreated as you walked to him, his stance rigid. It was hard to read his eyes, now covered with his visor lenses.

“Don’t you dare drop me.” you state, locking your arms around his shoulders.

He let out a dry laugh, “ha, I wish I could.” saying so, he pulled you in by your waist, harshly, and took off into the sky.

The wind whipped at your face, stealing your breath. As on instinct, you clung to him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. You swore he held you closer, but maybe it was just the wind, or the way your mind was playing tricks on you. It was too easy, the way your body fit against his. 

It was like muscle memory, an echo of a time when you were friends, before the tangled mess of your arrangement. 

On you apartment’s fire escape, Joaquin sat on the stairs, holding out his hand, a teasing grin playing on his lips. “Come on.”

“I can’t!” you whined.

“You can’t be scared of heights when your best friend is the Falcon,” he laughed with a playful challenge.

“Y/N, I thought I was your best friend!” Peter’s voice echoed, and you looked up to see him hanging upside down just above you.

“Can you stop doing that?” you snapped, your stomach twisting with anxiety, a strange warmth spreading through you when you looked at Joaquin.

“Look, it’s only the fourth floor. It’s not that high! You know, I once flew next to an F-15 with Sam. You know how high that is?” Joaquin insisted.

“That does not make me feel better, Joaquin!” you scream.

“I’m here just in case you fall. I’ll web you up!” Peter offered, but his upside-down presence only amplified your anxiety.

“No.”

“Okay, that leaves us only one other way,” Shang-Chi spoke up from behind you, before literally hauling you up and pushing you out onto the fire escape. You screamed and thrashed a bit, but calmed down once you felt Joaquin’s hand hold you tight by your waist.

You breathed hard, but Joaquin let you wrap your hands around him, rubbing your back, his laugh vibrating through you.

“I got you.” he urged you to look at him and you did. His calm demeanor and his touch on your skin should have calmed you, but your heart raced faster. You shift your gaze to the New York skyline, the sun disappearing behind the tall buildings, the bustling crowds beneath you and the cold wind on your face.

Shang Chi sat next to you, placing his arms behind your body, and you calmed down completely.

“Incoming!” Kate laughed before rolling down from the railing above and lying down on your legs, laughing, all while Peter hung upside down.

You saw the new york sunset together, and sat there in silence until the sky turned blue. 

That’s when you hit Shang Chi’s arm.

“Ow!”

“That was for pushing me out.” you laugh.

 Kate gasped, hitting Shang Chi, “You pushed her out on the fire escape?”

“Can you both stop hitting me?” he protests.

“Okay, time out!” Joaquin leaned to make Kate stop hitting Shang Chi, and sneakily made a face, making you laugh.

“Can you move?” Joaquin’s voice vibrates through you, making you realise your legs were touching the ground.

You jerked away from him, as he disengaged his helmet, meeting your gaze with disappointment.

The comms came to life with Bucky’s voice, “we’re in! Y/n, you have 10 minutes tops, starting now!”

You crashed back to reality, all your focus shifting to your mission, “Roger that.” Saying so, you ran with Joaquin on your heels, the lingering warmth of his touch a ghost on your skin.

But as you moved, a dangerous, sudden realization slammed into your chest with the force of a physical blow.

You were falling for him.

And you were terrified.

It was the specific, visceral terror of falling for him. 

Joaquin, the man who had been your friend, your confidant, your… something else entirely. The man who had declared it was over, who had built his own walls, colder and taller than yours.

This was a dangerous game, where the stakes were your heart, and the opponent was someone who knew exactly how to dismantle your defenses.

As you entered the enemy territory, the realization sent a shiver down your spine. You pushed it down, shoved it into a locked box in the deepest part of your mind, where it wouldn't interfere with the mission. 

But the fear lingered, a cold, hard knot in your stomach, a constant reminder of the dangerous path you were now on.

—/—/—

The moment you stepped through the reinforced door, the world shifted, a stark and unsettling contrast to the harsh desert landscape you'd just left. The bungalow’s interior was a crafted miracle, a bizarre blend of mid-century modern and Renaissance, as if a set designer had suffered a stylish, schizophrenic break.

It wasn't just a house; it was a stage. 

The walls painted a blinding, almost clinical white, stretched into high, vaulted ceilings, creating an echoing space. The walls were a gallery, a bizarre collection of paintings that seemed to have been plucked from different eras and styles. The air itself felt different, sterile, a faint tone of rose underlying in it. 

Every surface, every object, was eerily pristine, untouched by dust. It was as if the entire space was a museum exhibit, where nothing was allowed to be out of place. 

The halls of the mansion were empty, no soldiers in sight. You found a staircase leading upstairs, but your focus was to find a hidden wall or a door that leads downstairs; that’s where all the fun was.

Joaquin whispered, “y/n, look.” you turn towards the room he was pointing in, and see it; a huge 9-feet oil painting of Wilson Fisk and Vanessa Fisk, standing ominously, their gaze pouring into you both like a warning of not coming any closer.

Walking closer, you both quickly set to analyze the edges for some mechanism, or a hint towards an opening, moving your fingers around the edges, and suddenly a sharp click broke the silence.

Joaquin and you looked at each other, and he gave you a thumbs up. The painting started to move, slowly opening on the outside to reveal an elevator. You both rush in, and find only two buttons on it; G and -1. Clicking on the -1 button, the doors closed, and the elevator roared to life.

When the doors opened, you found yourself looking at a lavish living room; the walls painted maroon, the furniture all black, and a small kitchen counter on a corner filled with canned food… right next to a computer system with two screens stacked on top of each other.

Gotcha

“It’s a safe house within a safe house.” Joaquin muttered, as you made a run for the computers.

“Y/n!” the comms roared back to life, Peter's voice a shout in the midst of gunfire, “did you find it?”

“Yes!” you scream, your fingers itching to get to work.

“Finish up as soon as you can!” Kate screamed next, grunting, probably shooting arrows, “these soldiers are playing real dirty.”

“Got it.” your fingers fly on the keyboard as you fish out the tab from within your vest, shoving it at joaquin, “find me a passage to the dark web.”

“What?” he looks at you, dumbfounded.

“You heard me.” you command, without removing your eyes from the desktop.

Joaquin got to work, and you bypass the security and passcodes with algorithms to access the files. Writing a code for accessing all files at once, you find both screens filled with every single file from the computer.

And you froze.

Whatever you were expecting, this wasn't it.

“Ay dios mío” Joaquin muttered.

The screens were filled with videos of every single person on your team.

“Goddamn, He'd steal the pennies off a dead man's eyes” you exclaimed, your Texan drawl slipping through.

Bucky and Sam on the Flag Smashers mission, Frank Castle murdering a room filled with mercenaries, Kate with Clint on the streets of new york, but the most shocking one was of Peter changing into his spidey suit in an alleyway, and the Daredevil on a rooftop, pulling off his mask to reveal his identity.

“Mathew Murdock? The lawyer from Hell’s kitchen!” Joaquin’s voice was filled with disbelief, “but he’s blind!”

You shake your head, trying not to get distracted by the sudden revelations, and you type in another code to reveal only the statistical and recorded data over the years; logs of purchases, black money turning white, reports of how many corrupt officials were there in the system, and the most important, proof of all the crimes, and murders he had committed in the past years. You put them all in one, single, mega file, and readied to upload it on the dark web, “Joaquin, how long?”

“30 seconds.” he answers, his hands flying across the tab.

“Looks like you’re winning, y/l/n.”

Your heart leapt into your throat as you turned around, whipping out your gun at the man standing behind you. Joaquin dropped the tablet, kneeling next to you with two Glocks in his hands.

Benjamin Pointdexter, instead of rotting in jail, was standing right infront of you, smirking, his hands twirling two razor sharp knives, “I know you don’t go by that name anymore, it’s just y/n now, right?”

Your mind raced to stall for time, you knew you stood no chance in front of a psychotic individual who could make impossible shots with his knives, earning him the nickname of Bullseye.

“Your folks back in Texas would be sad about you not taking your last name.” he laughed, “traditions and all, you know.”

“How did you find us?” Joaquin grumbled.

“You found me, actually. You really thought Mr. Fisk would leave this room unguarded?” he started to walk towards you, his fingers spinning the knives faster than ever, “any last wishes?”

Joaquin looks at you, and speaks just a single word, “10 seconds.” before opening fire at Dexter.

—/—/—

Those 10 seconds were the longest 10 seconds of your life. 

You leapt towards the tab, pressing upload on all the files to the dark web. Opening the comms, you screamed, “Backup, lower ground… fisk’s portrait!”

You whipped around, and your blood ran cold. A knife was hurtling towards Joaquin's neck. He reacted by twisting away, a blade flashing from his own jacket, plunging into Dexter's thigh. Dexter roared, an agonizing sound leaving his throat, kicking Joaquin away as he grabbed razor-sharp shards from his suit.

"NO!" a sound of pure terror ripped from your throat watching him about to throw them at Joaquin. You lunged, slamming into Dexter, sending you both crashing to the floor. You pound your fists against him, a frenzy of precise but desperate blows, but he just laughed, a chilling, maniacal sound before catching your fist mid-swing, twisting your wrist with brutal force.

A scream tore from your lips, the pain white-hot, unbearable. But you were beyond pain, fueled by rage. You punched him again, ignoring the agony. 

You saw Dexter's smile twist into something truly sinister. Before you could react, before you could even brace yourself, he stabbed you, the knives sinking into the same wound, the same place you'd been shot before.

He kicked you away, the force of it sending you sprawling. He pulled more knives, ready to inflict more damage. But Joaquin was on him with a whirlwind of furious strikes with his knife, only to have Dexter’s own blade slash across his neck. 

A crimson spray burst out of his neck, a horrifying sight.

It was as if time had completely stopped.

Joaquin. Your Joaquin. The one whose laughter echoed in your ears, a constant, comforting sound. The one who had held you steady when you felt utterly adrift. The one you’d treated with a reckless, careless abandon, like a moth drawn to a dangerous flame, even though he deserved nothing but love.

And now, he was hunched over, clutching his neck, his fingers stained crimson. 

The sight was a brutal, visceral punch to your gut, a stark, horrifying image that burned itself into your mind. His comforting embrace after training, his laughter on the fire escape, his glances across the room searching for you at any moment, the night you two first met. Every laugh you’d shared, every moment you spent together, it all seemed to flash before your eyes in that horrifying moment.

The guilt, a heavy, suffocating weight, pressed down on you, threatening to crush you. How could you have been so careless with the man that you…

With the man that you loved.

The image ignited a fire in you, a desperate attempt of adrenaline pumping inside you,and you were moving like a broken thing driven by pure instinct. 

You stumbled at Dexter, your body screaming in protest, but you couldn't stop.

Then Dexter was throwing knives, every blade he had, a lethal rain aimed at you.

You coughed as they pierced through your body, a gurgling sound, blood bubbling up in your throat. Your vision swam, the pain a relentless, crushing wave. Your body was betraying you, cold and numb, but you fought, crawling towards the computer, a desperate last attempt to see if you were successful.

But Dexter was there, a dark shadow, his knives slashing, destroying the system. Sparks flew, screens flickered and died. All that work, all that pain, for nothing.

He loomed over you, a dagger in his hand, his eyes cold and cruel. "Well, this is a shame," he hissed, his voice a low, mocking growl. "I would have loved to have more fun with you."

His twisted smile was the last clear image you saw, before the world dissolved into a blurry darkness.

—/—/—

Gunshots.

A heavy thud of weight landed right next to you.

Shuffling of bodies, and somebody shouted your name from a far away distance.

"Dammit! Peter, get the Quinjet!" Bucky's shout echoed through.

Your name was called out again.

Your body felt lightweight, as if you were floating in air.

And then it was bright all of a sudden.

Your vision returned just to have a look at the crystal blue afternoon sky, the whirl of quinjet’s engine in the distance.

A sob went through your ears, a voice so familiar, "Stay with me y/n, baby, please."

Joaquin.

He was alright.

His voice was the last thing you heard before being catapulted into darkness.

—/—/—

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.!" Bucky roared, his voice cracking, his eyes glued to Y/N's still form on the Quinjet’s platform.

The minute he had entered Kingpin’s den his eyes had landed right on her. She was so pale, her skin like cold, lifeless marble. It sent Bucky to empty his barrel into Dexter who lay dead right next to y/n. The pool of blood beneath her was a sickening crimson stain, enough to send a wave of nausea crashing over him. He'd wanted to snatch her up, hold her close, but Sam's hand on his arm held him back, a silent, firm restraint.

Shang-Chi's rings glowed at that moment, and like a shimmering golden shield cradling her body, the rings lifted her gently off the ground. He was carrying her, floating, trying to minimize any further damage as they rushed her into the Quinjet.

"Scan complete. Multiple organ failure, massive blood loss, ruptured lungs, heart rate decreasing rapidly," F.R.I.D.A.Y. 's flat, emotionless voice filled the cramped space, each word a brutal blow.

"Any damage to the heart?" his voice was tight, strained.

"No critical damage detected."

"Okay... uh... okay..." Bucky's stomach churned. He couldn't look at the knives sticking out of her, couldn't bear the sight of her broken body. He turned away, but it didn't help.

Peter and Frank were with Joaquin, trying to stop the flow of blood from his neck. The cut wasn't deep, just above his collarbone, but his vest was soaked, a dark, horrifying stain. He'd passed out as they boarded the jet, his delirious cries for Y/N echoing in the small space, a desperate, broken sound that tore at Bucky's heart.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y... get the med bay ready," Bucky commanded, his voice rough.

"Shang-Chi—" Bucky started, but Shang-Chi cut him off, his face grim.

"The rings are creating a field to keep her blood from getting out. They will also keep her heart beating, just in case..." He shared a look with Bucky, a look that spoke of unspoken fears, of the very real possibility of losing her. A look Bucky hated.

Kate and Peter were at the controls, their faces tight, Kate occasionally getting a glance back at y/n, flying them back to the compound. Daredevil, mask off, sat huddled in a corner, his gaze fixed on the floor. Bucky was seconds away from snapping, from unleashing his pent-up rage, when he saw the object clutched in Daredevil's hand: a silver cross.

He was praying, silently. He was a man desperately hoping for a miracle.

Bucky's own throat tightened. He remembered a secret, a truth he'd only shared with Sam: Y/N reminded him of a person so close to him back then, it physically hurt him to even think about her; his sister, Beatrice. 

Hauntingly familiar, just like her. The same mischievous grin before she did something mischievous, the same laughter that could fill any room with joy. 

He closed his eyes, a silent prayer escaping his lips, a desperate plea to whatever power might be listening…

Please, save her.

-/-/-

Joaquin's eyes fluttered open to the sterile white of the med bay ceiling, the smell of spirit overwhelming his senses.

He was alive. His forehead ached like he could feel the blood flow in his head, and a sharp sting from the gash on his neck burned as he opened his mouth, but he was alive. 

His first thought, a desperate, clawing panic, was for Y/N.

"Y/N?" His voice was a raw whisper, barely audible. "Is she…"

Shang Chi helped him sit up on the hospital bed, and he was met with Peter and Kate’s grim faces, etched with a silence that sent a chill through him. They avoided his gaze, their bodies stiff, their silence heavy.

"Sam got Kingpin," Peter said, his voice flat, his shoulders slumped. "He's on his way to New York. Going to trial for everything you and Y/N exposed."

Joaquin barely registered the words. A terrifying feeling invaded his heart as it beat faster; why was Peter avoiding his question? His eyes were fixed on them, searching for the truth they were so clearly trying to hide. "And Y/N?" he repeated, his voice strained.

“Joaquin, how about you rest up a bit…” Kate says calmly as she approaches his side, but Joaquin shakes his head, repeating his question.

"She's… she's in surgery," Kate said, her voice trembling slightly. "It's… we can’t tell if she-" she choked on her words, falling on the chair next to his bed.

The words hung in the air. A wave of nausea washed over him, a cold, sickening dread.

Shang-Chi placed a hand on his shoulder, sighing, a gesture that was meant to be comforting, but felt like a lead weight. "She's strong, Joaquin. She'll pull through.”

Joaquin saw the flicker in Shang-Chi's eyes, the carefully neutral expression that masked the unspoken fear. He knew they were holding back about her, trying to shield him from the truth. 

A small part of him still wished this was all a dream. A bad one, but still. Any minute now, he would wake up, right next to her sleeping form, and he’ll hold her, hug her, tell her she’s gonna be okay.

Then he heard Kate and Peter's hushed conversation next to him, the words cutting through the sterile silence of the room. "...we need to contact him."

“But, Kate…”

“Connor is her emergency contact peter, this could be the last time they-”

"Connor?" Joaquin's voice was sharp, a sudden jolt of confusion. "Who's Connor?"

The others exchanged a look, filled with confusion.

"You don’t know about Connor?" Peter said, his voice barely a whisper, “he’s her brother.”

Joaquin's breath hitched. Her brother. He knew she had a brother, but he had never known his name, never had any real details. Why did she never tell him before? Why was her brother the emergency contact? What about her parents?

His heart dropped when he recalled her behaviour. Overtly self dependent, her episode at the apartment, her smile disappearing at any mention of family, the phone call the day before the mission. His mind raced as he joined the dots in his head. Could it be…

"I need to see her," he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.

"Joaquin, you need to stay here," Shang-Chi said, his voice low but stern, "You need to get yourself together."

"Get myself together?" Joaquin's voice rose with his anger, a raw, broken sound, "She's dying! And you want me to get myself together?"

He tried to get out of the bed to stand, but his legs were weak, his body trembling. He stumbled, only to be caught by Shang Chi.

"Joaquin!" Shang-Chi's voice was sharp, a rare scolding tone. "You're not going anywhere. You're lost too much blood, you need rest. You will only make things worse."

Joquin breathed hard, clouded by the single thought of her. y/n smiling down at him from the fire escape, how she fitted right into his arms, her heartfelt laughter ringing in his ears, how her existence made him brighter. 

Joaquin sank back onto the bed, his body shaking, his eyes filled with a desperate, agonizing helplessness. He closed his eyes, hoping to see her image sitting next to him bathed in sunlight… alive.

But instead, he saw her face in the Kingpin's den, frozen, blank, seconds before Dexter's knives plunged into her. A replay of his worst nightmare. He remembered his desperate attempt to reach her before Dexter could do the unthinkable. 

The way her eyes had flickered, then gone blank.

The weight of suffocating darkness that threatened to consume him entirely loomed over him. He was alone, and the only light he ever cared about, was fading away.

To Be Continued...

<< Chapter 3 || Series Masterlist || Chapter 5 >>

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Next Chapter will be up soon... Love y'all, Take Care!

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[ariascoven]

⟡ PLAYING DANGEROUS

PAIRING : officer!alice wu-gulliver x reader

CONTENT / WARNINGS : established relationship. female reader. petnames (princess, angel, baby, sweetheart & love). porn without plot. top!alice. use of strap-on. pussy spanking. choking. praising. degradation and name-calling (whore & fuck toy). biting, marking and blood. orgasm denial. hair pulling.

WORD COUNT : 1.9k

A/N : what is it about a woman in uniform that makes me wanna bark? anyway, i do not apologize for anything! i want this woman to do things to me that would get me burnt at the stake 🫡 this was supposed to be posted way earlier but i kept being interrupted while writing and when i was finally done i decided to add an extra scene and make it longer (you're welcome).

MY MASTERLIST

Alice’s name came out of your mouth as a filthy moan while you brought your hand to her hair and pulled on her ponytail harshly. The action pulled a deep groan from her, and the sound made you throb. The rough grip she had on you bruised the sensitive flesh of your hips and made you whine — wether it was due to the pain, the pleasure, or both, you weren't sure. She ducked her head down and licked a thick stripe up your neck as she relentlessly pounded into you, squelching sounds filling the otherwise quiet living room. Your legs, wrapped around Alice’s waist to keep her close, trembled. Eyes fluttered shut and inner walls clenched around the thickness of the strap moving in and out of you. You looked up at the sight hovering above you through half lidded eyes. It felt heavenly and sinful all at once seeing your girlfriend's eyebrows furrowed in deep concentration and sweat dripping down her forehead from the effort of fucking you. You couldn't get enough of it.

The delicious sounds she made with each thrust somehow increased the wetness between your thighs, a light blush dusting your cheeks. No matter how many times you have sex, shyness will always wash over you at how embarrassingly soaked you get for her. However, Alice loved it more than anything. She grinned smugly at the needy whimpers escaping from your lips, hand reaching down between your bodies to rub your clit harshly, making you squeal. The dual stimulation made you see stars. Your hands released her ponytail and reached for the front of her police uniform — she came home in the middle of her shift after you sent her a picture that definitely should not be opened in public, especially at work. Your brain barely had any time to register the fact she was home before she pushed you down onto the couch and straddled you. “I can't believe you went to the station wearing—” Your words were cut off by a high pitched cry when a harsh slap landed on your sensitive cunt.

“Wearing the strap?” She panted with a raised brow, the sound of another slap falling upon your core echoing across the living room. “Well, I planned to surprise my girlfriend when I came home tonight,” her fingers wrapped around your throat and squeezed it. “But an unexpected change of plans happened.” You let out a depraved, filthy moan as she choked you, tipping your head back to allow her further access. “You’re nothing but a whore, aren't you?” Her voice is sultry, slightly breathless, and the degrading words made you clench around her. A part of you wished she could feel it — feel the effect she has on you, all of it. “You just love when I choke you, hm? Love when I spank this pretty pussy,” you proved her point when your eyes rolled back into your head when she gave you another slap. “Love when I fuck you hard, don't you, princess?” You were completely cock-drunk, unable to form any coherent thoughts. She hummed in approval when you nodded in agreement, so weak you barely moved. “Such a perfect fuck toy. You're doing so well for me, angel.”

The mix of degradation and praise that dripped from her lips drove you insane every single time, you loved it more than words could describe. The grip of your legs around her waist tightened as your hands shifted to her back. She groaned, feeling the way your hands slid down, scratching her. The fabric of her shirt was no obstacle for your long nails, which left a crimson trail behind. She loved it when you marked her, but she loved marking you even more. Your heart thumped against your chest as you noticed the look in her eyes �� you’ve seen it multiple times. Pure possessiveness. You knew what was going through her head even without any words being exchanged. “Alice, please…” you begged her, voice restrained as you found it difficult to speak with her hand around your neck so tightly. She raised an eyebrow as she waited for you to complete your sentence, but the grin on her face told you she knew exactly what you wanted, she just wanted to hear you say it. “Bite me.”

You let out a sigh when she released the grip on your neck, shivers running down your spine when her fingertips trailed along the red finger marks on the sensitive skin, her breath fanning across your face as she leaned down. “You look so gorgeous like this, baby,” she kissed you tenderly, a wild contrast from the way her cock drove into you and seemingly stole your breath with each hard thrust. “Marked up, all mine.” She muttered against your lips as she broke the kiss. Her eyes scanned you as if memorizing your features — the blissful and needy expression on your face. She started nipping on your neck, hands still squeezing the curve of your hips painfully. Your eyes snapped shut, mouth falling open in a silent moan when she sank her teeth into you. The whole situation made you feel dizzy and weak; the moans you let out were a sign you were getting close. “You don't get to cum yet, love.” You opened your mouth in a failed attempt to protest, but the words caught in your throat the moment she bit down on you even harder — so hard you felt blood dripping down your neck and making your head spin.

“God, every little part of you tastes like heaven,” she groaned, licking the droplets of blood that fell from the wound she made. “Even your blood.” You never expected to like pain this much, but something about Alice made you crave it. You craved her hands on you, roughly grabbing and squeezing in all the right places. It was like a drug, and you were addicted. Knuckles turned white due to the force you held onto her shirt with, body undulating as you neared the edge. You wanted to cum — desperately needed to cum. And here come the tears, prickling in the corner of your eyes at the feeling of Alice being so deep inside you, hitting that sensitive spot over and over again at the same time she licked the teeth marks on your neck to soothe the pain just to attack the sensitive, sore flesh once more. She kept going and going until she felt satisfied with her work, pulling back with a proud grin on her face to stare at the masterpiece she made — your neck was a red mess, courtesy of her mouth and your own blood, decorated with teeth marks and hickeys. When she noticed the tears streaming down your face, her expression softened ever-so-slightly.

“You wanna cum, sweetheart?” Her voice softened as she asked the question, bringing a hand to wipe your tears away. You continued crying in frustration as you nodded frantically, a pathetic sob coming out of you. “Soon.” You whimpered in frustration at how she denied your pleasure and pulled out of you. “On your fours for me, princess.” With shaky hands, you turned over, struggling a bit to get on your fours on top of the small couch. Alice held onto your hips once more, pulling you close. The way she slowly dragged her cock along your slit and tapped it against your swollen clit elicited a loud moan from you as you pushed back against her. She was teasing you, fingers sliding through your soaked folds and gathering your wetness. Your mouth opened almost on its own when she tapped her fingers against your bottom lip. “Good girl.” She praised, breathing out as you wrapped your lips around her digits. You groaned when you tasted yourself, tongue swirling around her. A whine fell from your lips as she pulled away with a satisfying pop, a pout forming on your lips. She chuckled, giving your ass a light squeeze. “You're a baby.”

Before you could even contemplate clapping back with a snarky response, she was inside you again, and somehow even faster than before. You held onto the couch for dear life, your body swayed with every thrust. “God, yes…” you slurred out, your ass earning another light squeeze. Your knees were struggling to hold you up, your body weakening more and more within every second that passed. You knew you wouldn't last long, even if you tried. When you peeked over your shoulder, a pout formed on your face at the sight you were greeted with — Alice, with that devilish grin of hers. She knew she was driving you crazy, and she enjoyed every second of your torture. She enjoyed watching you get all pathetic for her. You turned your head again, squealing in surprise when she grabbed your hair and pulled your head back. “Don't look away from me, baby. Watch me while I fuck you.” Your apology came out as a whisper, a groan escaping your lips when she released you. You turned your head and your gaze met hers. God, she did look amazing while she fucked you. Your eyes darted down to her uniform, something about it just made you incredibly hot. You bit your lip and she cocked her head to the side, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you like my uniform so much, hm?” You look back at her. “Or, what? You thought I wouldn't notice?”

How could she tease you at a moment like this? It drove you insane — in the good way and the bad way all at once. Your eyes rolled back in response to a particularly deep thrust. You tried to speak, but only incoherent blabber left your lips. “Now, cum for me, angel. Cum all over my cock.” Her voice took on a breathy tone as her hips stuttered. She leaned forward, her chest glued against your back. She rubbed her nose against your cheek in an affectionate gesture as she stopped squeezing your hips and started rubbing them instead, urging you on. A moan bordering on pornographic escaped deep within your chest as she gave you permission. A sinful chain of ‘Alice’s and ‘fuck’s left your mouth as your vision turned white, body convulsing as you rode the waves of pleasure that washed over you. She peppered soft, gentle kisses all over your face, tear-stained and flushed, as she fucked you through the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Good girl. You take my cock so well.” She praised as she slowed down the pace. You looked so fucked-out, she loved it.

It was only when you let out an exhale of relief that she stopped moving. However, she kept the cock buried inside you as she refused to pull out just yet; she enjoyed the closeness too much, the intimacy of the moment made her stomach flutter. “You’re… a fucking tease,” you gasped out, giving her a tired smile as your body slumped down onto the couch, completely spent. “And mean.” She carefully pulled out and turned you around to lay on your back. She leaned down to plant a kiss on your lips while her fingers caressed your hair. You let out a weak giggle. Alice did too. You enjoyed the sound of each other’s laughter as you rubbed your noses together, the sweet gesture being almost a post-sex ritual for you two. “I'm not mean.” She defended herself softly, kissing the tip of your nose before pulling herself off you. “But I gotta get back to work now.” You gave her a look and she shook her head with a chuckle.

“Don't worry, I'll have you on your knees all pretty for me when I come back tonight, love.”

[kleewie]

i don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you (and i)

summary: dating tip? just don't. for celebrities, romantic relationships are absolutely forbidden. the slightest hint of one could ruin your career. but are you even listening to the lecture? doubt it, 'cause you're doing the complete opposite. (alternatively, a celebrity au featuring secret relationships.)

→ featuring: childe, & ayato (you can really tell who my faves are)

→ warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, slight cursing, established relationship, mentions of alcohol and drinking, tension, actual cursing, unreliable reader pov, gender-neutral reader (i apologize if i missed things, i haven't proofread it yet)

→ a/n: so, hi! long time no see? i was pretty stressed with college and well, i'm back! i began writing this last year and finally got the courage to finish it. but here it is and i hope you enjoy it :> please let me know if you like it <3 it really makes my day!

credits to @dumplingsjinson for the prompts!

beware, lengthy post ahead! more under the cut!

the debut.

“forbidden?” you repeat.

“absolutely forbidden!” your manager says. “a rookie with no fanbase? a scandal will ruin your reputation! you're absolutely forbidden from dating anyone.”

you sigh. he's being too overdramatic.

you will never be in a relationship, you're absolutely sure. how can you? with no time for yourself as it is, dating someone with the limited hours you already have sounds impractical.

besides, you're too busy training and practicing for auditions.

remembering it now, you want to laugh.

i told you so, your thoughts chastise.

god, you should've listened.

childe, the actor

“that's a wrap!” the director cheers.

your eyes glisten as you hold back tears. it's embarrassing, you think. so damn embarrassing.

you've been repeating the same kissing scene multiple times now. obviously, the director cheers for finally completing the take and not because you did a good job.

childe pats your back. “you did great,” he says, with a smile.

but you know the gesture so goddamn well. the same nonchalant cold grin he throws at everyone that he now directs at you? oh, he's angry alright.

for what reason? who knows. you're too busy wallowing in self-despair over how terrible your acting is.

the scene is supposedly simple. it involves the second lead, who happens to be you, confessing their love to the leading man, resulting to a spontaneous kiss.

yet, you're fumbling over the lines, acting so out of character, tripping over set, incorrectly initiating the kiss at awkward angles—the whole time-wasting squander.

“what's going on?” childe eventually asks, once he arrives at your shared apartment. his bag drops to the floor with a flop. “you're acting strange. the entire crew sees it, i see it, the director sees it—what if he decides to fire you? what will you do then?”

you swallow dryly. you left the set early hoping childe's hectic schedule prompted him to forget the whole issue. yet, here he is finally bringing up the conversation after what feels like a month's worth of tension.

as you sit on the sofa chair, your fingers massage the bridge of your nose. breathe in, breathe out. you repeat. don't cry. you try to calm yourself down as a sob tries to break through.

eight months, you've been a couple.

but, there are some things you're afraid to say.

each year, the biggest tabloid newspaper in the country releases an article on celebrity dating scandals. a month ago they released one single page article about a popular actor dating a newbie actress. it barely had any juicy details, just a simple paragraph of a somebody dating a nobody.

yet, it did not end well for them. and you're terrified; for when it could happen to you.

you imagine it. dozens of messages and multiple missed phone calls on your cell as your name becomes the next talk of the town. the headline reads: revealed! a nobody actress, the second-lead from the northland bank saga currently dates the nation's boyfriend, childe!

it terrifies you. you could lose your job. lose what you love doing the most. and you could get tossed aside like an old sweater under someone's bed, left to rot and decompose.

so, yes. you hesitated earlier at set because you don't want anyone to connect the dots. to look at the kiss between you two and notice something amiss. to speculate that there's more to your relationship than what meets the eye. to realize you look at him as more than a co-star. to see how much you're in love with him. to realize the both of you are dating.

“it's not easy.” you say, releasing a sigh.

two years you've been in the business. rookies barely get any roles as it is. being in a well-received rendition of an old romance drama is a once in a blue moon opportunity and you can't risk someone finding out about your relationship.

“camera shy? no—you've kissed heaps of actors for that school drama.”

you mumble, “two people aren't heaps of actors, tartaglia.”

“then what is the problem?”

childe saunters to where you sit. he leans towards you and presses his palm on the head of the sofa, trapping your body between his and the chair. childe's eyes meet yours and you instantly look away.

he knows you well enough to comprehend that look on your face. the way you hide your clammy hands behind you, the manner of your eyes staring only at your feet, how your body tucks itself into the corner of the seat.

“me?” childe whispers.

he places a hand under your jaw. his thumb softly pushes your chin upwards so your eyes meet his.

“why?” he pleads.

“you won't understand.”

“i will if you tell me,” he says, holding your gaze. seeing how you relentlessly persist on keeping your mouth shut, he shakes his head. “oh, please tell me.”

you hesitate. you tell him and then what?

you could say: hey, childe! i'm afraid of our relationship being discovered. i'll be hated by your fans. you'll be constantly drained by my crying and whining. your reputation would take a hit regardless of how popular you are and—and then he'll finally realize how exhausting and annoying it is being with you.

your self-deprecation loves to pull you deeper into its sapping embrace. you're nothing, it mouths. childe would dump you and find some other actor or actress to date. god. it would be so easy. with his popularity, good looks, and charming personality, he'd find a better and talented rising-star the moment he chucks you out the front door.

so, you shake your head firmly.

“tell me, please.” he whispers.

you cross your arms, and look away.

“are you sick?”

you shake your head.

“somebody hurting you on set?”

again, you shake your head.

childe pauses, “...do you have feelings for someone else?”

“no!”

“then what is the damn problem?”

“nothing!” you exasperate, furrowing your brows together.

childe takes your reluctance as distrust and it ignites his irritation. do you not trust him? is he that insignificant to you? what are you hiding? hell, did you fall for the main lead of the show, zhongli? or do you not love him anymore? god, he can feel himself suffocate in resentment.

is he so unimportant that you'd prefer to keep the problem to yourself? it makes his blood boil; how he'd do anything for you, but you'd rather keep it to yourself and suffer alone.

“tell me.” childe scowls as he watches your lips quiver.

you keep your mouth firmly shut.

“fine, hold your tongue.” he sneers, “i understand. i really do, baby. it's not about the cameras, the flashing lights, the audience.”

childe brushes his lips against yours, “you wouldn’t kiss me like that in public, though, would you?” he releases his hold on your chin and his sharp eyes meet yours. “it’s only behind closed doors when you care to act like we’re each other’s.”

with a hooded jacket in one hand and a face mask in another, childe swiftly leaves the apartment with a slam of a door.

leaving you alone with your wretched thoughts.

more under the cut!

despite walking out the flat hours ago, childe still reverberates jealousy and anger; pure envy at how normal you act around everyone else yet, around him you're too guarded; and angry at himself for saying those awful words to your face.

he smacks his forehead on the steering wheel. childe acknowledges how childish he's been acting. you aren't ready to talk, and he shouldn't be forcing you to speak out your difficulties.

surely, the stress is piling up on you. he knows the hours you've been working on set, memorizing lines, practicing moves—again, he thumps his head on the wheel.

stupid, he curses. control your damn temper next time.

he reaches for the box of blueberry cheesecake on the front passenger seat. subconsciously, he drove two hours (and back) to the bakery's main branch as its side branches were sold out of your favorite cake. and he knows how much you love the pastry.

however, his body slouches in the parked car outside the apartment. the long drive works miracles with his anger, but the courage to actually walk inside and apologize never comes.

the ding of a text draws his attention. ‘go inside and beg for forgiveness, brat.’ yoimiya, a fellow actress from the same company as him, says. the woman is always in the loop and well-informed.

a shiver goes down his spine. if you told yoimiya about the argument, he's absolutely sure you're furious. you'd only speak to her as a last-ditch effort; knowing her personality she'd pummel him to bits while you watch.

as a result, he stands inside the apartment, one hand knocking on your bedroom door. however, instead of tasting blood, he hears your stifled sobs. the abrupt sound convinces him to turn the knob and enter the room.

the illumination from the hallway brightens the bedroom, shining a bit of light on your face. you lay on the bed with your knees to your chest, with a blanket over your waist. your reddened cheeks and tear-stained eyes makes his stomach churn.

“please don't cry, baby.” childe cooes, kneeling by your bedside. he leans over you, his fingers gently grip your cheeks. “i'm so sorry.”

the sudden apology sprouts pools from your eyes. his thumbs brush the water off your face and softly says, “i shouldn't have said—please, don't cry. it's my fault for taking my anger out on you.”

“i'm afraid of losing you,” you whimper. “if they find out—oh god—they'll tear me apart. i'm nothing compared to you. i'd lose everything. i might even lose you—”

“never, i will never leave you. no matter what happens,” childe interjects.

you furrow your brows, sobbing. “i'm no one—too difficult,” you hiccup. “you'll throw me away. i'm too whiny and too draining. if they find out... you'll see all the comments about how ugly—”

“breathe, baby.” he settles himself on your bed and softly places you on his lap. “you're gorgeous. you're not draining, and frankly, you're cute when you whine.”

you bury your face into his neck and continue, “i'm serious, childe. you'll get exhausted. the articles will talk about you too!”

“articles, mhm. they're just articles.” he hums.

irritation begins to set in. was he this clueless? you release another sob, “they're not just articles. they'll nitpick every single thing you do! oh—look at this newbie getting together with childe. oh, they suck at acting! why is childe even—”

childe gently places his palm on your neck, coaxing you to meet his gaze. “are you talking about the tabloid from last month?”

you sigh, “what else am i talking about?” and instantly you sense his laughter resonate. “are you laughing?”

“you're adorable, baby.” he breathes, nuzzling his face on your neck.

“you're making fun of me! what the hell, childe?”

he releases a sigh, pausing his laughter. “the tabloids every month. they're paid. companies pay them to talk about their idols for publicity.”

your face contorts into confusion, “who would willingly—they talked about lumine all month because of the article! you know she's my favorite actress. why would they willingly put her on the spotlight like that?”

“publicity, baby.”

you shake your head, “it makes no sense.”

“oh, it does.” childe hums. “of course, they'd seek permission first. it boosted views for her drama, didn't it? lumine did say she got extra for the views and switched apartments.”

“yeah, wait—you knew this whole time and didn't bother to tell me?”

he chuckles, “that's what you get for keeping these things to yourself for a month.” he squeezes the bridge of your nose.

“you're terrible.”

“love you too, baby.” he teases, “and besides, if a tabloid threatened to do something—” his thumb gently traces the skin around your neck. “—i'll keep you safe.”

a soft smile graces your features. “...i'm just not ready for anyone to find out. yet, anyway.”

childe hums, “we'll do it on your terms, okay? whenever you're ready.”

“sure, i guess you can keep me for a while longer. until you throw me away and find the next rookie to—”

childe's soft laughter sparks a flutter in your stomach. he would never do such a thing. the moment he first laid his eyes on you on set, heard your beautiful laugh between takes, listened to your jokes while practicing lines, and god, seen your angelic smile? the things he would do to keep you as his.

“never.” a cheeky grin appears on his lips, “i'll take care of you.”

bonus: five years later

your phone rings. the vibration continues on and off, signaling multiple inbox messages. you swipe your phone to see texts from several of your close friends.

‘i know you told me you were okay with it, but i didn't think he'd try to do it so soon. i tried but he's too hardheaded.’ says yoimiya.

‘congratulations! when's the wedding? i'm kidding. don't kill childe.’ says thoma, an actor from your same company.

‘sorrows, sorrows, prayers.’ says venti, your current co-star.

you even receive a message from childe himself.

‘good morning, baby. i'm completely fault-free. simply honoring your wishes as a devoted fiancé should.’

attached to a message was a link to a video entitled: please don't kill me honey.

you click the link.

the video's blurry, as if taken by a cellphone. you recognize thoma as the person videoing the whole scene, as he turns the camera to face him before focusing it on a woman—seemingly a fan of childe. she wears merch from his most recent drama.

a fan goes on stage chosen by a random lottery draw. the said fan wins the chance to interview childe, who was the guest of the day for talk show, and ask one question.

the girl hastily walks on stage, holding a microphone given by staff.

“um. hello, childe!”

the audience screams as the huge video screen focuses on your lover's face. he waves a quick ‘hello’ and the crowd yells louder.

the girl hesitates, “are you dating anyone right now?”

childe twists the microphone in his hands. “hm? right now... i'm not dating anyone.”

the crows sighs in relief, utterly happy their favorite leading actor continues to be single.

but you see the outline of a smirk flashing on his face, and you instantly know there's a deeper meaning to that sentence. “but, it's difficult to say... since we're not really dating as of the moment.”

quietly, you hear the voice of yoimiya whispering, “don't do it.” the camera now focusing on her, trying to get herself on stage. thoma flips the camera around to face it on himself, waving a hello, apparently enjoying the drama. he then focuses the camera on the wide screen, featuring childe's face.

to add mayhem into the mix, childe continues, “i don't think being engaged to your partner falls under dating. we're way past that.”

the interview ends with the audience screaming their lungs out in disbelief, while childe's laugh resonates the whole auditorium.

ayato, company director

“oh, them?” ayato's steady gaze meet yours, pressing his lips in a tight-lipped smile. “they're a friend of mine.”

friend. it echoes in your mind, repeating incessantly. friend. friend. friend.

dread creeps into the pit of your stomach akin to a quick flick of a lighter. after all this time, your stomach lurches. is that all he thinks of you?

god, you need a drink.

the businessmen before you smile, prompting you to return the favor. subsequently, you humbly introduce yourself as just an ‘actor in the industry’. and they laugh. of course they do.

who wouldn't know you? a multi award-winning movie and television star with piles of nominations. so modest, they say. so kind, they praise. you grin, the smile not reaching your eyes, thanking them for their compliments.

but you're so accustomed to their fake smiles, ingenuine flattery, and sweet talk; you never truly know what's actually honest and real—eyes flickering to your azure-haired partner—no, who's honest and real.

you swallow the thought down.

as if aware of the invisible daggers thrown his way, ayato's gaze meets yours. his lips are pressed firmly together, eyes devoid of warmth.

not now, his expression conveys.

you narrow your own eyes, irritation burning through your corneas. as much as you want to start an argument in front of his investors, you agree to his silent insistence. after all it's his gala; one he's tirelessly prepared for over several months.

so you bite your tongue and smile: one honed by years of acting—fake yet strangely genuine.

it's not strong enough. you say, sipping wine with shaky hands. earlier, you left ayato to his fellow businessmen using the excuse of needing a bathroom break, a reason to which he obliged.

you stare at the elaborate party before you, wishing you could go home. the gala swiftly dissolved your social battery, aided by forced mingling and bitterness. a friend, your consciousness repeats. always a friend. so you sit on a chair by the wall, sipping drinks like water.

suddenly, the hairs of your neck stand on end. you sense his presence behind you, prompting a glance through your peripheral vision.

“careful, darling.” ayato's says, tone smooth yet laced with warning. “i'd rather not have you collapsing. your lovely face wouldn't compliment these filthy floors.”

you tense immediately, shoulders stiffening. “reverting back to pet names, i see?”

ayato's hand now rests on your shoulder, his thumb brushing your soft skin. “what seems to be the issue? i doubt it's due to the eight glasses of wine you've consumed in one sitting.”

you roll your tongue in your mouth, practicing the words. let's break up. you bite your tongue. let's see other people. besides, he wouldn't care would he? it's not as if he's been acknowledging you as someone he's been dating, has he? hiding your relationship from his business partners is one thing, but concealing it from closest friends? his family? that's an entirely different matter altogether.

a friend, he says to his business partners.

a star from the company, he answers to his closest friends.

a companion, he whispers to his family.

you're sick and tired of it. all of it.

raising the wineglass to your lips, you drown the drink in one go. you raise two fingers signaling the waiter for another drink.

ayato sighs and you think you feel his hand on your neck tighten, ever so slightly. “you've reached your limit with wine, dear.”

soon, the waiter arrives with three more glasses on his tray. ayato's disapproving glare compels the waiter to scurry across the ballroom floor, steering clear of you.

you click your tongue and begin, “who says so?”

“your fiancé,” he mutters, voice dripping with venom.

you immediately scoff. “sure. for your sake, i'll pretend you mentioned that earlier.”

before ayato could retort, the presence of another individual calls his attention; his younger sister, ayaka.

“brother, the sangonomiya heir's requesting your presence.”

he sighs, irritation etching his features. yet, you blink, catching a subtle shift in his expression—seemingly twisting from annoyance to something resembling relief at the mention of sangonomiya's name.

you swallow the bitter thought.

“watch them for me, could you? i'd rather not have them find a server willing to disobey my instructions and serve them a drink,” ayato whispers, his tone betraying a hint of tension that doesn't go unnoticed.

ayaka nods. her consent prompts the older brother to depart, heading towards the misty rose-pink heir who stands at the opposite side of the ballroom.

ayaka says the inevitable, “you should let him know it bothers you.”

“...i'm not sure what you're referring to.”

her gaze follows yours, observing the giggling and cheerful countenances of the kamisato and sangonomiya heirs. they seem to be enjoying their time together. as always, you remark.

“they're just close friends, you know.”

you click your tongue. “like how him and i are just friends?”

ayaka sighs, understanding your implication. “you know what i mean.”

sangonomiya's hand on your partner's shoulder elicits an exasperated sigh from you. “thoma told me they were to be married if i wasn't here.”

“the man always running his mouth—” she takes a calming breath before continuing, “—but brother's very fond of you. i'm his sister, i should know.”

“then how come after dating him for five years, he still calls me his friend.” you pause, a hand sliding into the right pocket of your outfit. you absentmindedly play with the engagement ring inside. “i'm his fiancé, aren't i?”

“he has his reasons. petty reasons.”

you bite your tongue. or he's embarrassed of you.

you met the kamisato company heir two years after your debut as an idol. as you shifted towards acting, you developed a close relationship with his sister, a seasoned actress from the same company. eventually, she became the bridge that strengthened the bond between the two of you.

you dedicated yourself nonstop, evolving from a rookie actor to a multiple-nominee and winning star; all in the pursuit of being able to openly show off your relationship with ayato without it tarnishing your reputation.

however, when you're prepared to finally reveal your relationship, he isn't.

and it leaves you wondering, is there someone else?

you mean, you're hesitant to doubt the love of your life. but considering he's kept your relationship a secret from everyone for years, it's obvious he's adept at keeping things hidden.

even from you.

and the thought sours your mood.

excusing yourself once more to use the restroom, using the premise of consuming ten glasses of wine, you bid adieu to your favorite kamisato (at the moment). you instead head towards a secluded balcony away from prying eyes.

you stare at the garden below. your eyes quickly blink back the tears threatening to fall. not now, you hiss. don't do this to me, not right now.

“i assumed you would have retreated to your room by this point.” his voice murmurs, unnervingly composed.

you turn around to see your partner holding a glass of wine. his features remain blank, inscrutable.

maybe it's because of all the wine you've been drinking. you can't seem to tell between what's real or not.

“what did you discuss with kokomi?”

“i wasn't aware you were both on a first name basis.”

“answer the question.”

he smiles, “business as always.”

you huff and wrap your hands around your arms. “of course. just business.”

ayato immediately picks up the anger in your tone. he lays his palm on your forearm, gently pulling you towards him. “look at me,” he pleads, with a subtle trace of irritation in his voice.

you turn to look at his face, eyes glaring.

“i felt your glares the entire night.” he begins.

you shrug, smiling innocently. “...what ever do you mean?”

“don't toy with me, darling.”

as he enunciates his answer, it's as if the final thread of your patience snaps. does he still continue to feign innocence and lie to your face?

last month he proposed and you were overjoyed. you then expected a shift in your relationship; the final unveiling of your engagement to the public. you gave him your permission, a definitive “i'm ready for everyone to know.”

yet thirty days later the engagement remains concealed leaving only a few of his friends (thoma) and a few family members (ayaka) knowing about your updated relationship.

if it was the ayato from two years ago, he would be delighted—ecstatic even—to reveal the truth. he might have used the gala today as an avenue to scream to the world, this person and i are in love.

but he didn't.

so the weight of your feelings began to drag you down; it almost feels suffocating in a way. as if a ribbon labeled, he's ashamed, tightly winds around your insides, intricately tying them all together into a sophisticated bow sowing distrust whispering; he's hiding something.

your suspicions, coupled with his frequent visits this month to the sangonomiya estate, fueled your frustration until it erupted. if only he ceased pretending innocent, perhaps you would able to smile through the whole facade.

if only he didn't ask.

“i'm not naive. if you developed feelings for kokomi then you shouldn't have proposed.” you snap. “was it out of pity? did you feel so damn guilty that you chose to go through with the engagement instead of being honest about your feelings?”

ayato furrows his brows, mouth tightening in anger. “what are you talking about? i discuss private affairs with kokomi. business affairs.”

you laugh; one infused with irritation and disbelief. “don't tell me then. keep your stupid secrets.”

“do you want me to jot down a damn list detailing every single thing i do in a day?” he growls. “i won't divulge company secrets just because you feel like throwing a tantrum.”

your hands drift to the tie around his neck, tugging the crooked tie straight. “no. go ahead and keep your secrets.” you pause and roll the words with your tongue, “you're clearly very good at keeping secrets. you’ve kept me—us—as a secret for so long, so of course you’d be good at keeping fucking secrets.”

anger flares across his face. “you desired our relationship to remain a secret, and i respected your wishes.” he sneers, “i wanted to let the damn world know how much i'm in love with you yet, it was the opposite of what you desired.”

ayato releases his grip on you and strides back into the ballroom, but he halts right at the door to the balcony. “so don't dictate when i should reveal the truth simply because you've grown sick and tired of keeping me as your dirty, little secret.”

he finally departs; and you stay, tears pooling, with a profound ache in your heart.

ayato waltzes around the room in a nonchalant dance; yes, good to see you. he lies. how's business? he couldn't care less. enjoy the party! no, he wants everyone in the damn room to feel his wrath.

although he yearns to set the entire ballroom ablaze, ending the party prematurely would be ill-manned of him. so, ayato continues being a gracious and honorable host.

but he feels hollow. he envisions himself freezing the entire room in an icy gust, everyone turning into statues. he wants to sprint back into your arms and plead for you to listen.

he doesn't understand what came over him. why he lost his temper like that. typically, he'd manage your outbursts with composure and understanding. what happened? he doesn't know.

he attributes his outburst to the mounting pressure. the chronic lack of sleep and continuous exhaustion coming from his title as heir. perhaps it's the truth gnawing his skin; despite his powerful position atop the company, it can easily be ripped away with the flick of a wrist.

instead of spending time with his fiancé—he doesn't know if he still deserves to call you that, you probably threw away his ring the second he left the balcony—yet here he is, engaged in conversations with business associates he cares little about.

“brother?” ayaka calls. she finds him leaning against a railing of stairs. “i closed off the gardens.”

ayato swallows. he last saw you sneaking towards the grounds. “they're still on the grass?”

“yes.”

“they'll catch a cold.”

“they will.”

he glances at his sister. “they think i'm unfaithful.”

“i know,” she says matter-of-factly. “have you offered them any evidence to convince them otherwise?”

ayato stays silent.

“i know you care about them, brother.” ayaka sighs, “however, surprising them with a specially crafted ring and being petty when your entire relationship is at stake may not be the wisest move.”

he sighs.

“most especially if they suspect that your frequent visits to the sangonomiya manor are fueled by romantic feelings for its heiress, and not for their own wedding ring.”

after a while, ayato spots you lying on the grass in a starfish formation, having finally swallowed his pride. his eyes glaze over your features: red eyes, cheeks marked with tear stains, and an exhausted expression.

“can we talk?” he begins.

you spare a quick glance before turning your attention back to the night sky. “there's not much to talk about.”

“i'm not cheating,” he asserts.

“i know.”

“do you know, or have you resigned yourself to not knowing?”

“hm,” you hum. “a part of me entertains the thought of you cheating. yet an even smaller part absolutely knows that if you were truly cheating, you'd be more discreet. who, in their right mind, would inform thoma that you visited her manor?”

he chuckles, a laughter-less sound escapes him. “i understand i've been secretive. you have every right to assume i'm up to something indecent. but i have my reasons.” ayato confesses, kneeling beside your body. he places his hand inside his suit pocket, pulling up a black small box.

you instantly sit up. “you're horrible,” you cough, eyes widening as he opens the box to show a ring. “this entire time you were—god.”

“i placed a special order,” he mumbles. “i visited each day to ensure it was flawless, right down to the smallest details.”

“i'm so sorry.”

“don't be, love.” he breathes, “you had your reasons, and i was insistent on keeping it a surprise.”

relief floods your features. “good,” you whisper before tears well in your eyes.

the sound of your sobs breaks his heart. he immediately wraps his arms around you, brushing his lips on your cheeks.

“i'm sorry, darling,” he murmurs, kissing the skin above your brow. “i'm sorry for worrying you.”

“goddamn sadistic,” you sob. “you knew i was freaking out, but you just watched!”

he grins, “i have to admit, you look cute when you're jealous.”

a groan escapes you. “don't make me throw away both rings.”

“is that so? i should've ordered twenty spares.”

“no.” you scold.

“oh? look at my darling, so jealous,” he smirks, nuzzling his face into your neck. you then feel his lips press into a straight line. “you're not something i would ever try to hide. i would never be ashamed of our relationship.”

you laugh, “prove it.”

your smile faces seeing the smirk on his face. in that exact moment, you know that kamisato ayato, the preposterous god in human flesh, plans to do something grand and explosive to prove you otherwise.

“do not.” you begin, “we've talked about this. you cannot—you absolutely will not bribe the government to declare our wedding date as a national holiday!”

bonus: ten minutes before the clash

“is it getting warm in here, or am i sensing the intense gaze of your loving fiancé on me?” kokomi laughs, sipping a glass of champagne.

ayato takes a peek, and he chuckles upon seeing your irritated and jealous expression. “they certainly are.”

“please do not involve me in your lovers' quarrels. everyone knows we're just close friends.”

“they do.”

“have you told them?”

“...it may have slipped past my mind.”

kokomi shakes her head. “sadistic.” she slips a black box into his palm. “clear it up. i do not want to be murdered by your future partner.”

ayato glances at you from across the room as you engage a conversation with his sister. “mhm, i could, but their jealous expression is too endearing.”

“sadistic,” she repeats. “absolutely sadistic.”

he chuckles.

“also, kazuha mentioned that you've been referring to them as your companion. correct that.” she continues, “and stop calling them your friend!”

“they asked me to when we started dating.”

she rolls her eyes. “you're so petty. stop trying to provoke them!”

“anyways, everyone knows we're engaged,” he corrects. “their whining face is the cutest.”

“sadistic.”

“kokomi?”

she tilts her head and hums, “yes?”

“ever wondered how much it costs to propose a national holiday?”

author’s note: lmao. so in this modern au ayato actually succeeds in turning your wedding date into a national holiday. the government actually appreciates his donation because a.) they always accept goodwilled (lmao) funds and b.) ayato's an important pillar to the gov and they don't want to upset him 'cause petty rich boy tantrums tilt the economy (how sadistic).

so, ayato's the heir of the company where you are employed at as an idol turned actor/actress. kokomi is the heiress to a big jewelry corporation. lmao they were both engaged together when they were like five but they instantly broke it off because well, they both threw five year old tantrums.

plus thoma telling you that they were to be engaged was just a fact he blurted out when you asked about kokomi (he manages to omit the five-year-old part because he's careless + he didn't think it matters because anyone can tell ayato's intensely in love with you)

[redtsundere-writes]

Part 28: Starting Over

King!SukunaRyomen x Servant!FemReader

Summary: You used to be just another servant among the army of humans operating under the command of the terrible king, Sukuna Ryomen. An ordinary human who only knows how to wash, clean and cook. Until one day, he notices something in you that you hadn't seen before.

Tags: MDNI. +18. Murder. Blood. Cannibalism. Sukuna Ryomen Is The Warning Itself. Nudity. Sexual Display. Vaginal. Fingering. Sometimes fluff, sometimes angst. NOT Beta read.

Word Count:  7822 words.

I M P O R T A N T

A/N: So after some consideration, I need a break from this fic because I wanna work on other fics I have kinda abandoned because of this one. Plus, I want to write an original novel! I'll be updating about it here, thanks for your support and understanding, happy holidays! :3

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You were stuck in the same dilemma you had a month ago. You paced around your room, anxiety running high, rehearsing how to apologize to the king for kissing another man and causing a scene in enemy territory. You had crossed the line this time, and it would be hard to fix it. He must be furious, even more so when he found out you didn't return to the camp after the incident. You didn't regret what you did, but you would have to admit that you deliberately hurt the king sooner or later, and now you had to face the consequences. You bit your nails in a failed attempt to calm your nerves as you waited for his inevitable return.

Suddenly, you stopped as you heard the clatter of the drawbridge's chains moving. You darted to the window, looked outside and confirmed what you feared: the king was back in the castle. But he wasn't alone. Along with him were Kenjaku and Mahito, followed by a long caravan of curses. Sukuna stepped out of his carriage with his trademark dark grace, looking up directly at your window as if he knew you were there. His sharp eyes pierced your being, and a chill ran down your spine. Heart pounding uncertainty, you slammed the window shut and hid behind the wall as if that would help.

You still didn’t have an apology that would convince you. You weren’t even sure Sukuna would allow you to apologize. Staying in your room, waiting for him to request your presence, was the safest option, though you had no idea how long that would take.

To your surprise, it only took twenty minutes of your patience when someone knocked on your door. To your relief, it was Mrs. Inoue. You hugged her without a second thought, muttering hasty apologies for leaving her alone with the king for over a week.

“I missed you too, child.” She hugged you back.

“I'm glad you’re okay,” you said before letting go of her.

She gave you a kind, tender grandmotherly smile, but then her expression changed drastically to one of anger. “Oh no…” you thought, scared.

“What the hell is wrong with you, silly girl?! You cried every day for the king to propose to you, and you went and blew it! You're going to kill me with your shenanigans before I see you in white! You better give me 7 grandchildren to make up for it!” She scolded you severely while spanking you.

“Sukuna told you?!” You asked, surprised, while you writhed from the pain in your buttocks.

“Of course the king told me after I went to plead for you,” Mrs. Inoue snorted. “You better apologize tonight, or I myself will tell the king to kill you for being a dumbass.” With that warning, she handed you a letter that was in her pocket.

You took the white envelope with a frown. It had a wax seal with a golden rose painted on it. It was an official letter from King Sukuna. You didn't hesitate to open it with trembling hands. Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when you saw what it was.

His Majesty, King Sukuna Ryomen, extends to you a most gracious invitation to attend the illustrious White Flower Ball.

For the first time in a millennium, you have been bestowed the rare honor of joining this exclusive and momentous occasion, held this evening within the grand halls of the castle. Enclosed with this letter is a gown crafted especially for you, befitting the grandeur of the event.

It is my fervent hope that you will accept this invitation and join me for an evening of unparalleled splendor—one that I assure you will remain etched in your memory forever.

With the deepest of regards,Sukuna Ryomen

“What the fuck?” Mrs. Inoue pulled your cheek for cursing.

It was just what you needed to reassure yourself that you weren’t dreaming. You weren’t one to curse just like that, but your mouth dropped it before you could say anything else. Your bottom lip was on the floor and your heart was racing in circles from excitement. You read the letter over and over to make sure your reading comprehension was still working.

“And you haven’t seen the best part yet,” Mrs. Inoue said excitedly before picking up a box that was hidden behind the door to the next room.

You took the huge box to place it on your bed. You undid the red bow with ease and opened it. There was a white silk dress next to a diamond tiara with matching earrings. Mrs. Inoue held you so you wouldn’t faint from the shock. It was so beautiful that you couldn’t utter a word. “Does this mean the king isn’t upset with me?” you thought.

“You better apologize to that good man, girl.” Mrs. Inoue waved an accusatory finger.

“Did he just call the king a ‘good man’?” you asked, confused.

“My grandson is a tyrant to everyone but you,” Mrs. Inoue said before leaving your room to let the king know that she had already fulfilled her part of the plan.

“Your grandson?” That only left you more confused.

Sukuna examined the new windows with great attention. The pattern was the same as the originals, but instead of the glass being red, they were transparent like any other. Uraume was updating him on the situation, kneeling before him and with their head down. He had both pairs of arms crossed as he imagined how the events had occurred on that strange night.

“I detailed it in the report I sent you the same night of the attack. I don't know why it didn't reach you, my king,” Uraume stuttered nervously, about to burst into tears for having failed in their main task: protecting the castle.

“Surely the messenger you sent was killed by those crows if they are as powerful as you say,” Sukuna theorized. “Do you know the reasoning behind the attack?”

“50 cursed weapons were stolen from the weapons room, my king,” Uraume answered.

“I see.” Sukuna whispered to himself as he looked at the panorama through the glass.

There was a crow flying in the sky in the distance. Crows were a common bird in the area, so the person behind the attack had surely been spying on them for some time. With that information, it would be difficult to find the perpetrators. He already had some hypotheses in mind, but he would have to wait to solve them. Sukuna pricked up his ears as he heard a sob behind him. Uraume was crying softly as they clenched their white kimono, their hands red from the effort to contain themself. He lowered their head to their hands in a sign of mercy.

“I'm sorry I failed you, my king,” Uraume apologized.

“There was nothing you could do.” Sukuna concluded.

“If I hadn't fainted, I swear…” Uraume tried to defend themselves, full of frustration.

“Enough.” The king's word echoed through the hall. “I'm at peace that you only fainted and didn't die like everyone else.”

A warm shock hit Uraume's chest. As soon as they looked up, the king was already kneeling in front of them, with a hand on their albino head to stop them from lamenting what happened.

“I know what you are capable of, and what you can do.” Sukuna reassured them. “So raise your head, we have work to do.”

“If you didn't get my report, why did you bring all those curses?” Uraume asked as they wiped the tears with their loose sleeve.

“This ball isn't going to organize itself.”

“Ball?” Uraume asked, confused.

The night seemed to fall with a desperate slowness, too much to contain your excitement. Each minute felt eternal as you turned on your axis, watching how the wide skirt of your dress fluttered gracefully. You adjusted the top of the outfit for the tenth time, unable to control your nerves. The corset, tight to the chest, enhanced your figure without sacrificing elegance.

Your favorite detail was the sleeves: they fell softly, light, like newly opened petals, adding an ethereal touch to your appearance. The sparkling tiara and delicate diamond necklace caught the light like dewdrops at dawn, completing the illusion of a radiant flower in its full splendor. You felt like a daisy awakening with the first rays of the sun, fresh and dazzling. Sukuna had outdone himself with his choice this time.

There was a knock at the door. “Miss. The ball is about to begin.”

You didn’t recognize the voice, but curiosity drove you to run to the door. As you opened it, an exquisite fragrance enveloped you, stopping you in your tracks. Instead of an unfamiliar face, the first thing you saw were two long rows of white roses and daisies adorning the hallway. The flowers covered everything. They overflowed from the decorative vases, sprouted from the helmets of the armor, and seemed to fill every corner with their fragile splendor. You had never seen so many flowers together, but surprisingly, they were not what completely captured your attention.

At the end of the hallway, the king was waiting for you. His imposing figure was wrapped in an impeccable red kimono; his hair, perfectly coiffed, further enhanced his elegance. In his arms, he carried a huge bouquet of red roses, so large that it seemed made by him and only him. Your heart raced at the sight, and a fleeting thought crossed your mind: “Am I dreaming?”

He approached you, with determined and confident steps, while you remained motionless, trapped in the tangle of emotions that invaded you. You felt like a fool, unable to do anything other than observe him from a distance, trying to process what was happening. The thousands of flowers, the dress, the dance… and him, wearing his most elegant kimono.

“Flies are going to get in.” Sukuna placed a hand under your chin to shut your mouth.

“I don’t understand, my king,” you whispered, confused.

“What don’t you understand?” His hand traveled down your jaw to hold your head under your ear.

“The dance? The dress? All of this? Why? I don’t deserve any of this after what I said back in the Zen’in realm.” You tried to lower your head in sorrow, but he held your head up high so you could look him in the eyes.

“I realized it was my fault that this happened in the first place. I should have protected you on enemy land, but because of my selfish wishes, it drew even more attention to you.” His thumb caressed your cheek tenderly as he looked you straight in the eyes so you knew he was serious. “I’m going to show you now and for the rest of your life that you made the right choice by standing next to me.”

Your pulse was racing so fast that you didn’t know if it was from excitement or a heart attack. Who the hell was this before you, and what had he done with the cursed tyrant? This was more than dreamlike, it was crazy. You thought he would be upset and ignore you more than before you got engaged, but you were glad he didn't. Sukuna placed the large bouquet of roses in your arms, they were so heavy that you almost fell on your back.

"Thank you," you said with your face hidden among the flowers before entering your room to leave the large bouquet on your bed. Any vase would break under the weight.

"Will you do me the great honor of taking you to the ball tonight?" Sukuna offered his hand along with a bow of respect.

"It would be an honor," you took his hand with a big smile on your face.

Sukuna took your hand and pulled it towards him so that your arm was wrapped around his lower arm. They walked through the flower-filled hallway. As they reached the end, you looked back to take one last look before heading to the Great Hall. Sukuna noticed this with curiosity and stopped.

“The flowers will be there when you come back,” he reminded you with a smile, he was glad that you liked it.

“I know, it’s just that it’s a beautiful gesture. I could spend all day admiring them,” you said without taking your eyes off them.

Sukuna gently let go of your arm. You followed him with a confused look as he knelt down in front of the flowers. The king picked out the prettiest daisies with his eyes and pulled them from the bouquets. He placed the flowers in your hair carefully, fitting them between the tiara to make sure they stayed there all night. Sukuna took a moment to scan your body with his penetrating gaze. You never failed to impress him with how good you looked in the pieces he picked out for you. The soft fabric of the dress contrasted with your skin tone, shining like a star in the sky.

“I prefer to admire you all day and all night, because not a million flowers compare to you.” Sukuna took your hand to kiss your knuckles.

“Who are you and what did you do to King Sukuna?” You asked, surprised by his touch.

“I’m all yours.” Sukuna leaned down to kiss your cheek. Your face lit up like a flame. “What’s going on?!” you thought in shock.

“It’s my pleasure to introduce King Sukuna Ryomen and his fiancée, Y/N!” The curse announced their arrival to the Great Hall at the top of their lungs.

The guests, servants, and curses welcomed them with enthusiastic applause, filling the air with vibrant energy. Your face lit up as you took in the scene. Everyone looked elegant, wrapped in fine white clothing, and let themselves be carried away by the joyful music that resonated in the hall. It was almost unreal to witness a celebration where curses and humans lived together in harmony, sharing laughter and moments as if the differences between both worlds had completely disappeared.

Kenjaku masterfully conducted an orchestra made up of curses, whose sounds intertwined in a mesmerizing melody. Meanwhile, Mahito chatted animatedly with an Uraume clearly annoyed by having worked all day. The hall was a spectacle in itself, decorated with an infinity of white flowers that adorned every corner and radiated an ethereal atmosphere. Above the dance floor, the imposing crystal chandeliers cast golden sparkles, elegantly illuminating the couples who moved to the beat of the music.

A new song began to play, and with it came the charming chaos of the servants rushing to find a partner. Mrs. Inoue pulled Mr. Wasuke towards the dance floor, despite his protests of not wanting to abandon his glass of wine. You observed the scene with a wide smile, infected by the collective joy.

From his place, Sukuna gave you a fleeting glance. Noticing how fascinated you were by the spectacle, a light smile curved his lips. Your excitement pleased him. The evening, more than an event for everyone, had been designed especially for you after all.

“May I have this dance?” Sukuna introduced himself with a bow.

“Of course, my king.” You introduced yourself as well.

Sukuna pulled you towards him with a smile on his face. Two of his hands held you tightly by the waist and one of his strong hands slowly intertwined with yours, taking his time to caress every millimeter of your skin. He took the lead immediately. You joined the others on the dance floor. You thought the king would forget his steps or have trouble with the rhythm, but he danced like he was already used to it.

“Your dancing is marvelous,” you complimented before spinning around.

“I had some help,” he looked away. “A lot of help,” he corrected.

You followed his gaze and found Mrs. Inoue, who, with a mischievous smile, gave him a thumbs up. Apparently, she had taken matters into her own hands when she noticed that the king had no idea how to behave around a lady. With her newfound enthusiasm, she had offered him a rush course in etiquette: from how to dance and flirt to the proper way to act chivalrously to impress you on this big night. And boy had she succeeded.

You gave your friend a knowing smile before turning your eyes back to the king, but he was already watching you, his gaze filled with such intense adoration that it made heat rise to your cheeks. Unable to help it, your smile widened, lighting up your face.

The song was coming to an end, and with it the crucial moment was approaching. You felt Sukuna’s hands slide firmly down your back, while the other descended to hold your knee. Your body began to lean towards the ground in an elegant movement, but you couldn’t stop the memories of the last time from flooding over you. The fall was still fresh in your memory, and nerves took over you.

Instinctively, you brought a hand to your shoulder, holding on tightly, prepared in case it happened again. However, something in the security of his grip and the intensity of his gaze gave you a spark of confidence. Maybe this time it would be different.

“I’m not going to let you go.” He whispered to you, reading the worry in your eyes. “I won’t make that mistake again.”

You knew he meant the dance step, but you wished it was more than that. You wanted it to be a lifelong promise. That he would be with you against all odds, through poverty and illness, until death took you from his side. The applause brought you back to reality. Sukuna put your feet back on the ground. You clapped as you glanced at him, wondering what he was thinking. Luckily for you, the same as you.

Mahito quickly approached you as the next song started. “Miss, may I have this piece?” You were about to answer, but the king stepped in.

“Get lost.” Sukuna growled before sending him flying away from the dance floor with a push. A few curses mocked the commander at the sudden occurrence.

“You didn't have to be so harsh, my king.” You sometimes forgot how strong he could be without even trying.

“From now on, I won't let anyone get close to you.”

“Isn't that a bit excessive?” You asked timidly.

“Not when it comes to you,” he said before pulling you towards him again to continue dancing the night away.

The night was still young and this was already the best of your life. You had never felt so happy as that night. You danced the night away to the music, chatted with some curious maids about your trip to the Zen'in kingdom, and drank a few glasses of wine. You were having a great time, but you still needed to apologize to the king, as you had promised Lady Inoue.

“My king, may I have a moment?” You asked, referring to the fact that you could talk in private.

“A lifetime if you want,” he answered confidently. “If he keeps talking like that, I’ll collapse,” you thought, feeling your knees turn to jelly.

You left the great hall and walked towards the bridges that connected the towers, seeking the relief of the cool night air. From there, you could see how the streetlights of the city glowed with a warm light, while the hills of the commune remained plunged in gloom. There was something deeply melancholic in that contrast: such a beautiful place, forced to hide in darkness when it could shine brighter than the city of curses itself.

The castle had its charm, and you couldn’t deny that you had learned to appreciate it. However, that sight reminded you of how much you missed home. Not just the physical place, but what it represented to you: a refuge, an identity, a sense of belonging that now felt distant and almost unattainable.

You hugged yourself, seeking comfort in your own arms as your eyes wandered beyond the streetlights, trying to find something in the distance that would calm the longing that was beating in your chest.

“Are you cold?” Sukuna asked.

He didn’t wait for your answer to take off his haori and placed it over your shoulders, leaving him completely exposed from the waist up. The warmth returned to you as you saw his perfectly carved body. The piece was too big for you, but it protected you from the cold wind that blew through the peak. You thanked him with a smile. Even though you loved the king, you were doing the right thing by acting in the shadows to protect your home from the chaos he was about to unleash.

“I wanted to apologize to you.” You started the conservation, but Sukuna waved his hand at you to stop.

“We can talk about it later. I want you to remember this night as one of the best in your life.”

“Still, it doesn’t seem fair to me. At least let me apologize for the letter, I…”

“Mrs. Inoue already confessed everything.”

“But she didn’t tell you the reason why I did it.” Sukuna raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “I hid from you that I wrote the letter to get revenge for what happened in the greenhouse. It was childish. I’m sorry.” You apologized with your head down.

“Then I’m to blame,” Sukuna declared.

Planning a ball was easy. Getting all the flowers from the open field, too. Manipulating an entire nation, a simple move. Even defeating King Jogo was no big deal. But facing this conversation… That was another story. 

His throat closed, stifling the words before they could form. His nails dug into the palms of his hands, a desperate attempt to hold on to where he was standing, to not give in to the impulse to flee. His entire body begged him to stop, that there was still time to turn back, to take refuge again in the facade he had built and perfected for over a thousand years.

Everything was easy, except this. Except looking into your eyes, those eyes that, with a single glance, managed to melt the cold armor he had spent so long forging.

“I hurt you on purpose because…” He blurted out in a small voice. “Just do it, damn it!” he scolded himself. “I’m terrified.”

“You? Terrified?” You blinked a couple of times, confused.

“Every time I’m with you, I feel weak, vulnerable, soft…” He confessed. “But I’ve never felt so alive in my life.”

You gasped as your king knelt in front of you. He took your hand gently, caressing your knuckles with his thumb. His face outlined by the lights of the lanterns combined with the blush of the moon. His rubies didn’t convey that roughness you were used to, but a hope you’d never seen before.

“Every time you touch me, my skin turns to glass. Every time you smile, I melt under your warmth. Every time you look at me… you make me feel human again.”

“Human?!” You opened your eyes wide upon hearing that. How could the king of curses, a giant with four arms and two pairs of eyes, be human? Mahito and Kenjaku seemed more human than him. You wanted to laugh at how absurd it sounded, but his serious face stopped you.

“You are my greatest weakness, but that only makes me strive to be stronger to protect you, my beloved daisy.” Sukuna planted a kiss on your knuckles. “I may be a king, but allow me to serve you for the rest of my life.” His lips ran over each of your fingers until they reached the back.

“I am definitely going to faint” you thought, barely supporting your weight on your heels. Your heart was burning with love for the man at your feet. A year ago you were the one on your knees cleaning his ears, bathing him or letting him step on you for his entertainment. You still couldn't believe how much things had changed.

“It may be late to start, but it's never too late to try again.” Sukuna said before taking a small box out of his pocket.

“I could promise to bring you the moon, the stars and the entire galaxy, but promising those things is too simple. I want to promise you something that no one else can get for you. On this beautiful night, I want to promise you that I will love you like I have not been loved in a thousand years of my life.” Sukuna opened the box to reveal the engagement ring he gave you in the Jogo kingdom. “I am not interested in being the king of curses when I can be your faithful husband.”

“My king…” You sobbed at the beautiful words.

“Will you marry me?”

“Yes, a thousand times yes!” You exclaimed before jumping into his arms.

He pulled you against his body, letting a big sigh escape his lips. He held your head against his shoulder as you cried from the euphoria that ran through your body. He smiled to himself as he heard you repeat “yes” in excitement. He placed the shiny ring on your finger.

“I love you, my king,” you said as he wiped away your tears.

“Please call me Sukuna,” he begged.

“I love you, Sukuna,” you repeated.

Hearing his name leave your lips ignited something inside him, a desire he wasn’t willing to ignore. Like a good king, he didn’t waste a second to claim what he wanted. With determination, he took your face in his hands and sealed your lips with a kiss full of passion. His movements were a perfect mix of tenderness and dominance: while his mouth delicately explored yours, his hands, firm on your hips, pulled you tightly towards his body. The need he had repressed for more than a week overflowed in that instant. Every gesture of his spoke of longing and desperation.

The lack of air forced them to separate, but they both smiled, their faces warm and small clouds of steam escaping from their ragged breaths. Sukuna lifted you into his arms with an ease that made you feel light as a feather, and rested his forehead against yours. Instinctively, you wrapped your arms around his neck, ready to seek out his lips again.

However, a thunderous round of applause interrupted them. They turned to the large windows of the great hall, and there they were, all the servants and curses, crowded together and watching the spectacle in fascination. Some cheered, others laughed, and in the middle of them, Lady Inoue sobbed uncontrollably, tears of happiness running down her cheeks.

“It’s about time,” Kenjaku complained to Uraume.

“First a ball, now a wedding. Give me a break,” Uraume shook their head.

The night was still young in the Zen’in kingdom. In the dim candlelight, the commander sat at the desk in his room. Naoya was a man of many talents, but there was one in particular that few knew about. With precise movements, he drew fine lines on the paper, outlining the figure of a naked woman, gracefully reclining on an elegant armchair.

His hands detailed each feature: the hair waving softly, the eyes seemed to look beyond the paper, and that smile… That smile that, since the last time he saw her, had disturbed his nights with its dazzling memory. Without realizing it, Naoya had captured in the drawing, every inch of her body, covered only by a sheet that accentuate your silhouette, sensual and delicate.

While he contemplated his work, his imagination transported him to that scene he had created. He saw himself approaching you, slowly, as if afraid of interrupting your peaceful rest on a velvet armchair next to a window from where the warm light of summer bathed the environment inside. With unusual tenderness, he brushed a lock of hair from your face, admiring the perfection of your shapes: the bare breasts, the hypnotic curve of your waist.

Desire began to burn inside him, palpable beneath the silk of his robe. It was then that your eyes slowly opened, still heavy from sleep, and you found him there, so close that you could feel his breathing. Before you could fully react, Naoya caught your lips in a passionate kiss, intense and full of repressed longing.

Your hands, trembling, but firm, slid over his bare chest, exploring every detail under the fine fabric. In a determined gesture, you opened his robe, revealing his arousal, and in that instant, both of you let yourselves be carried away by the inevitable attraction that consumed you.

“Commander…” You moaned on his lips before reaching his cock.

“Commander!” Another voice woke him from sleep.

Naoya screamed when he realized that his cousin, Ranta, had entered his room without permission while he was masturbating. The young man looked at him, perplexed by such a scandal. Naoya closed his leather notebook before closing his robe, completely blushing.

“Who the fuck gave you permission to enter?!” The commander scolded him.

“I knocked on the door like three times, I thought you were asleep,” Ranta defended himself, still confused. It was the first time he saw Naoya so upset and blushing. “Were you perhaps seeing something forbidden?” He mocked him with a hint of morbidity.

“No!” Naoya barked.

“I don’t believe you,” Ranta braced himself.

“I don’t give a shit if you don’t…!” Naoya’s body completely froze mid-sentence under his cousin’s technique. He was in trouble.

Ranta ran to the notebook to discover what his commander was hiding. In it, he found illustrations of landscapes, animals, and some familiar ones, but he stopped at the one he was currently working on.

“Wow… She’s so sexy. Who is she? She looks familiar,” Ranta wondered as he inspected the drawing closely. “Wait… Isn’t that that girl from the ball in the red dress? The maid… What was her name?” Ranta undid his technique.

“Y/n!” Naoya answered before snatching the notebook from him.

“Y/n… Yeah right,” Ranta reminded you. “Do you like her?”

“What? No way. She’s just attractive, that’s all.” Naoya denied having any feelings for you. Rather, he denied it to himself.

“Yeah, right.” Ranta rolled his eyes, knowing that this conversation was going nowhere. “I came by order of the king.”

“The king?” he asked, perplexed.

“Yes. He told me that all of us from The Hei will accompany him to the meeting of allied sorcerers.”

The Hei was an organization made up of the most powerful sorcerers of the Zen’in family, which was led by Naoya. The commander knew King Toji and his wife would go to the meeting of allied sorcerers that takes place every semester in the Gojo Kingdom. What he didn’t understand was why King Toji needed the Hei when only the kings can enter the room.

“We’ll leave in the morning,” Ranta told him.

“Thank you for letting me know.”

“I’m going to sleep, I’ll leave you alone with your drawing.” His cousin scoffed before leaving the room.

“Fuck you,” Naoya muttered before slamming the door shut.

He blew out the candles before finally going to bed. He closed his eyes and there you were in your red dress and unfriendly face. The chances of him seeing you again were painfully slim, but it was for the best. He was a commander, he didn’t need some random maid distracting him. He hit his pillow a few times to get comfortable. He tried to close his eyes again, but there you were again, letting King Gojo kiss you while he watched through a hole in the wall, wishing to take the albino’s place for at least a second.

“Get the fuck out of my head!” Naoya screamed into his pillow in frustration.

The dance had come to an end. The servants rested in their beds, exhausted from the evening, while the curses took their positions of vigilance, silent shadows under the moonlight. In the great hall, the guests of honor still raised glasses of wine, immersed in conversations bathed in laughter and secrets.

Sukuna, with his imposing bearing and confident walk, guided you along the path of flowers that led to your room. The fragrance of the petals, mixed with the night breeze, was a balm that intoxicated the senses. At his side, you felt the world blur into a whisper, and the only reality was his presence.

You could not contain the smile that curved your lips, a mixture of happiness and slight disbelief. The sweet words he had whispered to you during the night still echoed in your mind, warm and tempting, like a promise you could not ignore.

“This was the best night of my life. Thank you so much.” You stood on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek, but only reached his jaw.

“I’m glad you had fun. I understand why you like these balls so much.” Sukuna leaned down a little so you could give him a proper kiss on the cheek. “You must be tired from all that dancing. You should go to sleep.”

“I will.” Sukuna opened the door for you.

“Good night, my daisy.” He gave you one last kiss on the lips before leaving. If he stayed one more second, who knows what he was capable of doing to spend the rest of the night with you.

You took a step towards your room, but it felt wrong to enter alone. He was still in the same hallway, but you missed him already. You didn’t want him to leave. You really wanted to thank him for the unforgettable dance he planned for you, but words wouldn’t be enough. You smiled to yourself as you had a terrible idea.

“Sukuna.” The sweetness of his name coming out of your mouth made him stop suddenly. “Could you do me a favor?”

“How may I help you?” he asked as he returned to you.

“Mrs. Inoue surely already went to sleep. Would you help me untie my corset?” you asked timidly.

You took the haori off your shoulders and stepped out of the dress to be left in your corset and petticoat. Sukuna gulped as he saw your exposed skin in front of him. He had seen you naked before, why was he so nervous? This time, he understood what it meant for you to let him see you like that. Beyond love, it was trust.

His hands slowly traveled down your hips until they reached the bow of the corset on your lower back. Goosebumps rose on your skin as you felt his fingers brush the bare skin that peeked out over the petticoat. His hands trembled at the light contact. Now he understood that every touch, caress and feel counted to make you feel. He pulled one of the ribbons to undo the bow with agonizing slowness. He opened the corset little by little while his empty hands ran over your waist that he managed to expose. There was no turning back now.

The corset fell to the floor. Sukuna kissed your neck while his hands molded to your waist and breasts. You gasped as he pulled you towards his burly torso. His giant hands covered your breasts completely, kneading them like a baker in the morning. Your body involuntarily moved towards him. You stroked his pink hair as you opened the opening for him to fully explore your neck.

His thumbs hooked into your slip to pull it down along with your underwear. He caressed your legs on the way down. He cupped your ass and gave it a couple of slaps to watch it bounce. You smiled at the tickling. You kicked the slipway from you before clinging closer to the king with a mischievous smile. Your eyes widened as you felt the large bulge against your ass. You had imagined that since he was big, his member was too. But it was the erection that rubbed against you that was terribly large.

“You know I'm impatient,” Sukuna purred in your ear. “I can't wait until the wedding, tonight I'm going to make you the mother of my children.”

Sukuna carried you over his shoulder. He removed the bouquet of roses from the bed to lay you down on the bed, leaving you at the edge of it. The leftover rose petals tickled your skin. Sukuna knelt in front of you and spread your legs.

“What are you doing?” You moaned as soon as his thumb passed through the wet folds of your vulva.

“Preparing my dinner,” he answered before inserting his index finger.

A moan escaped your lips as soon as he invaded your body. It was intrusive, thick, tight. He slid his finger slowly, going deeper each time. Your flushed face was a work of art, and your moans were the best symphony he had ever heard. His cocks already wanted to escape from his pants, they will have their turn. First, he had to make sure you were wet, as the erotic books dictated. Sukuna reached your breasts to caress your nipples, erect from the cold. He pinched them gently, eliciting a moan from you. You covered your face in embarrassment of him seeing you like this. He moved up to your body and removed your hands that were blocking his sight.

“Let me see you, I want to make sure you like it,” he whispered before kissing your forehead.

He intertwined your fingers with his to keep your hands on the sides of your head. With his bottom hand he played with your nipples and the other one continued to fuck your vagina with two of his fingers. The tongue on his stomach licked your entire pussy, the tip passing directly over your clit. You arched your back as you felt him play with your button. Sukuna noticed and focused on having his tongue licking your clit. The tsunami of sensations was too much, almost unbearable. Sukuna attacked you from all possible sides, without leaving any place untouched. You squeezed your legs against his sides in an attempt to contain your body.

His lips traveled down your neck and down your shoulder. He took one of your breasts in his mouth and licked your nipple in circles. His predatory eyes on you made you feel small and harmless, like a hare in the jaws of a tiger. He continued his journey kissing your abdomen and focusing on your stomach. He held your hips under your legs as he heard your insides moving inside you.

“What do you want to have first? Girl or boy?” Sukuna asked you.

“As long as they’re healthy, I'll be happy.” You pull his hair tenderly.

“But if you could choose.” Sukuna insisted.

“A boy to give you the heir you want so much.” 

“A girl could also be my heir. If she's as strong as her mother, I'll be more than happy.” He said before continuing to kiss your thighs.

Even though you were in a situation where you couldn't think of anything else but your carnal needs, you couldn't help but evoke a smile, thinking of Sukuna with his baby in his arms. You had no idea what kind of father your future husband would be, but you were sure he would be a good one, or at least a decent one.

Sukuna snatched you from your domestic thoughts as soon as his mouth infiltrated your vagina. You arched your back as you felt him eat your core like he hadn't had a bite in years. He held your thighs tightly so you wouldn't close up to him. His tongue focused on pressing that button that made you moan louder. Your pussy tasted so good that he didn't want to stop anytime soon.

“'Kuna…” You gasped, holding onto the sheets.

Sukuna smiled against your pussy. It was the first time someone had called him an abbreviation like that. He bit one of your lips carefully to suck it slowly, causing an injection of adrenaline to run through your body.

“I won't last long if you keep going like this…” You admitted.

“You're going to last until I tell you to.” “That’s the king I know” you thought.

Sukuna pulled down his pants, letting out his monstrosity. Or rather, both of his monstrosities. Your mouth dropped in shock. There was no way those things would get inside you. The king approached your body, but you backed away in fear.

“What's wrong?” He asked, confused.

“You're crazy if you think that's going to fit in,” you stammered.

“A baby is going to come out of there, I think it can,” he told you before taking possession of your body.

You swallowed dryly when you saw him on top of you. You were about to defend yourself, but Sukuna shut you up, sliding one of his cocks through the wet folds. You took his arms when you felt how well he molded on you. Sukuna let out a curse from his lips, it felt much better than his hand.

“Be careful. I've been told that the first time hurts,” you whispered, embarrassed.

“Whatever my queen asks for,” he placed a kiss on your forehead to take away your worries.

He took his lower member and slowly introduced it into your intimacy, while the other rested between your lips. It was big, thick, tight. It was abysmal, but it felt so good against your walls. He went all the way in, breaking your walls. A pang made you let out a small tear of pain. Sukuna quickly kissed your tear away.

He slowly moved his hips against you. He growled against your ear at how tight you were. You wrapped around his cock so tightly that he thought he was in heaven even though he deserved hell. He fought with every fiber of his body against his instinct not to move like an animal in heat, he had to make sure you felt good.

The pang of pain was exchanged for a feeling of pleasure and fullness that you had never experienced before. Your fingers ran down his back as you felt every inch and vein against you. Your nipples brushed against his soft pecs, while the tongue on his stomach played with your clit.

Hearing you moan again, Sukuna immediately knew he could keep going. He moved his hips harder to hit your core. You grabbed his hair to pull him against you. A moan escaped his lips at that minimal display of control. Even though he liked to say that you were all his, the truth was that he was all yours without any kind of restriction.

“You’re taking it very well,” Sukuna congratulated you before biting your neck.

“It feels good,” you moaned against his ear.

Sukuna picked up the speed with each thrust. He was getting faster and harder that at some point you thought you were going to break. He took possession of your hips and raised his back to see you from above, an image that used to terrify you, but now excited you.

“God…” You gasped.

“Don't you dare bring another man into this,” he scolded you before giving you a spank that echoed through the room.

You howled in pain, but Sukuna didn't stop. He continued to fuck you with what little he had left. The climax wasn't about to take long. It was hard to hold back with the beautiful sight before him. Your legs spread before him still wearing the heels with small flowers on the ribbons, your breasts bouncing with each rough movement and your face flushed. He bit his lower lip before continuing to fuck you as only he could. The combination of their two wet cocks was too powerful to bear. You clawed at his thighs in an attempt to calm your cravings, but it was no use as you heard your fiancé moan.

“I need to cum,” you whispered.

“Almost there, a few more minutes, my love,” he babbled in ecstasy.

This was definitely not the curse, I mean, the man you were used to. Despite his great muscles, he had a harmless look full of pleasure. He continued to pump your center with firm and fast thrusts until his cock twitched.

“Only you can do this to me, my daisy,” he growled before continuing to fuck you hard.

You arched your back as you felt he had no mercy on your small body. His tip rubbed perfectly against your G-spot making it harder not to cum. You moaned his name over and over again until the expected climax hit your intimacy. Sukuna didn't let you rest until he came in and out of you, leaving your body full of his semen.

You both sighed heavily as if he had finished training. His arms were resting on the sides of your head so as not to crush you. Sukuna kissed your forehead before pulling out of you, leaving a trail of milk at your entrance. He laid down next to you to let you breathe a little, but to his surprise, you hugged his chest tightly.

“That felt really good,” you whispered to him shyly.

“It's something I've wanted to do for a long time,” he confessed with an embarrassed smile.

“Sukuna, what a perverted man you are,” you scolded him with a playful smile.

“Blame your teacher for that. Every time I read his books, I can't help but think of you,” he told you before placing a kiss on your forehead.

Sukuna got out of bed to look for a rag to clean you with. You laid down on the bed with a smile plastered on your face as the king cleaned up his remains from you. Now he was the one cleaning you up. “Oh, the twists and turns of life” you thought amused.

“What are you thinking about?” Sukuna asked you as he saw your face.

“What names can we give our children.” You lied so he wouldn’t feel embarrassed.

“Good, because  you’ll choose” Sukuna said before throwing the cloth aside.

“Why not choose them together?” You pouted before he tucked you in.

“Because you’ll be carrying him for nine months. I’ll agree to whatever name you choose.” Sukuna kissed your lips before laying down next to you.

He snuggled into your body. You smiled as you remembered the first time you slept together in his big bed. You were terrified that you would do something wrong while he was sleeping like a cute little kitten. You were going to remind him of that day until you noticed that he had already fallen completely asleep. You kissed his arm before walking with him, as you would do for the rest of your life.

Masterlist.

A/N: So after some consideration, I need a break from this fic because I wanna work on other fics I have kinda abandoned because of this one. Plus, I want to write an original novel! I'll be updating about it here, thanks for your support and understanding, happy holidays! :3

taglist:

Tag list: @bbnbhm @pxnellian @kbirdieee2540 @konigswifeyforlifey @kyo-kyo1 @calico-cheriies @imas1mpp @alone-the-honored-one @vlads-dracula3 @bigraga-sk @neeke-lilac02 @shaazd @airandyeah @energiepie @awkward-walking-potato @delightfully-studying @danniwerner @paradisestarfishh @missroro

(let me know if you want to be tagged in next chapters!)

[blueberri-blu]

Hi Blue! It’s me again coming at you with another request!

This time around, I want it to be a ROTTMNT Leo x Reader. It takes place at the end of season two (and before the movie) and it has Leo trying to confess his love to the reader. He’s bad at it, but god bless him he’s trying his best.

And use writing prompt 1 in it. Thank you and have a nice day!

Hiiiii! Of course!,

Losing It ෆ๑

[rise] Leo x gn!reader

Prompt # 1: "I didn't think you were the type to lose your head over a s/o" "Neither did I"

ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ

"Hey y/n!" "Yea Leo?" "How much does a Polar Bear weigh?" "Probably like 200lbs or more, but how much?" "Ugh, you're such a nerd" "gee thanks Leon" "aanyway, no, they weigh just enough to break the ice" "hm?" "Hi, I'm Leo, and you're cute" *wink* "oh! Haha, good one Leo!"

Leo internally groaned

No matter how many pick up lines he used, you just wouldn't get the hint

I mean, sure, he flirted with everyone, but come on! You were the only one he flirted with while blushing, didn't you notice the tremble in his voice? His Shakey hands? Nothing?

Ugh, he really didn't want to have to be direct with you...

He was already a blushing mess just shooting pick up lines your way

How would he be if he was vulnerable in front of you, expressing his feelings... He'd only embarrass himself!

ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ

A couple of hours later and after dinner

Donnie sat on the couch with Mikey, Raph was picking up dishes, and you and Leo were sat on the floor

You were "watching" the end credits of a Jupiter Jim movie

And by watching, I mean Donnie was on his phone, you were trying to finish your pizza, and Mikey and Leo were whispering about something

>> "why don't you talk to them!! They obviously believe you do this to everyone!!" "Well, Yea, but how am I even supposed to tell them? Oh, hey, I'm a giant ninja mutant turtle man, you wanna go out with me ?!" "They already know you're a mutant!, they obviously don't care" "alright, Mikey-" "this is Dr. Delicate Touch, telling you to suck it the fuck up and tell them! No one can stand your constant cheesy pick up lines anymore!!" ":c"<<

As you finished your pizza, all you saw was this:

You quirked an eyebrow at Leo, and he just looked away, pretending to find something interesting on the empty wall

Recently, he had been avoiding you... Except for the uptake in cheesy pick up lines

Originally you thought he was upset with you but then...

You started connecting the dots, and, stupidly, came to the conclusion that Leo liked someone

It explained his avoidance, and the cheesy pick up lines? Well he was obviously practicing for the person he liked

ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ

You and Leo had this strange dynamic for about a month before you finally couldn't take it.

It was around 1 am, but you just couldn't stand your constant overthinking of the situation.

So, you decided to march down to the lair, and corner Leo into talking

Thankfully, Leo was only with Mikey on the skate ramp

However, Mikey fled the scene once he saw you marching towards Leo with a face of determination and possibly nerves but that's not the point

Leo was confused, but then looked at you and immediately started sweating bullets

You seemed... Upset to say the least, and the way your eyes were locked on his form, it was he's fault

He started stuttering out apologies, for what? He didn't know, but you being mad at him was the last thing he wanted

It was only when you yelled "WHO ARE THEY" with tears in your eyes was he very confused

"wha- who??" "Your... Whoever is you like!" "What are you talking about haha- I don't like anybody!"

You thought he was nervous before, oh honey, he was now pale and confused

Were you really this upset at knowing he likes you???

"you know! You've been practicing your pick up lines on me! You aren't spending time with me anymore! The constant whisper telling with your brothers, followed by you blushing from your ears to your neck!"

And it clicked

You didn't know

You were upset... That he liked someone else!

"uhm... Uh... Y/n, look, I.. uh"

You were full on crying now

"I uh.. I don't like... Someone else"

"what do you mean!"

"I... I mean that I... I... Uhm"

"has anyone called god?"

"...what?"

"because he's missing an angel... Uh... You... Hehe”

He was so red, and through your blurred vision you could see he was shaking..

"are... Are you saying what I think you're saying?"

"uhm.. I mean.. uh.. do you, do you wanna be my, my s/o? Maybe? If not thatstotallyoktheresnopressure"

"Leo... I... Of Course!"

It was the tightest hug you had ever given and recieved

He was twirling you around, happy tears falling down both of your cheeks .

Once you were both calmed down, you thought to yourself and then said

"I didn't think you were the type to lose your head over a s/o"

"Neither did I, mi amor, neither did I"

ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ๑ෆ

[angie-likes-to-art]

Fic Recs (Stranger Things Edition V)

All fics are fem!reader

Marvel One Two Three Harry Potter One Two Three Stranger Things One Two Three Four Specific Characters Tangerine Masterlist

New in Town by @galaxy-siren

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Request: hey!! could you write a story where a new girl at school decides to nervously go up to Eddie during lunch? She gently taps his shoulder to get his attention to ask him something. ahh I don’t know you can decide what she wants to ask him! lol meanwhile Eddie is just “🤨…😍”

Horror Movies & Chill by @eiightysixbaby (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: eddie tries to scare you and gets more than he bargained for.

Satanic Panic by @hand-candy-writing

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “you encounter eddie munson in the cafeteria during his satanic panic rant, but quickly distract him from his tirade.”

Happy Hours (Series, Ongoing) by @bangaveragewhitewine (18+ Only)

Pairing: Bouncer!Eddie Munson x Bartender!Reader Summary: When you’re not pouring beers and shaking cocktails behind the bar of Jackie’s, you’re fighting flirting balancing banter and bite with the metalhead bouncer on your break. A busy Friday night changes how you see Eddie Munson. Maybe you were wrong about the bouncer with his silver tongue and Bambi brown eyes...

Simmer (Series, Completed) by @upsidedownwithsteve

Pairing: Linecook!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “welcome to hawkins’ number one diner! where the staff don’t wanna be there and the linecook is a grumpy metal head who likes to argue with his boss and ignore everyone else. but the new waitress can’t hack the rude customers and the regulars can be a little… much.” 

Pretty Eyes by @galaxy-siren

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Request: hii!! ok so you know that scene when Eddie is first introduced in Season 4 episode 1 where he’s exclaiming out things about conforming to society, and he’s jumping off the table and whatnot?? i was wondering if you could do something where Eddie ends up bumping into a girl while he’s moving around so dramatically, and instead of calling him a freak like he expects, she shyly apologizes for running into him when it was clearly his fault. He’d be the type to be so confused and yet go “Guys I’m in love-”😂

Bruises by @lonelysatellites (18+ Only)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Working the bar in an underground bare knuckle boxing club, reader meets the new fighter on the block, a wiry, charming metal head.”

Don’t Call Me ‘Baby’ (Series, Completed) by @katyswrites (18+ Only)

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Steve Harrington x Reader Summary: “This wasn’t supposed to happen. That’s what you would both tell yourselves, later on. It had started with a bet. You were a cocktail waitress, studying abroad in Rome and working yourself to death to keep yourself afloat. Steve Harrington was a business executive for one of the biggest tech companies in the world, ten years your senior, and earnest enough that it intrigued you. But, there was only one problem - he doesn’t do relationships. Not now, perhaps not ever. So, a deal is struck - something mutually beneficial. No attachments, and you get to be his perpetual mistress, while he makes sure you want for nothing. But, what happens when the agreement becomes more than what either of you bargained for?”

Same Old Song and Dance (Mini-Series, Completed) by @m0llygunn (18+ Only)

Pairing: Bully!Eddie Munson x Reader Summary: “Eddie’s teased and taunted you for the last decade of your life but you’re not innocent. It’s always been a game, a dance if you will.”