#I’m still depressed but it’s not as fucking bad as before now that I’m part time

[raeathnos]

.

[yoditopascal]

Like A Prayer (Part One)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warning: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: lots of wade in this one but no wolverine just yet!

tag list: @allmyn1ghts, @oscarissac2099

Masterlist//Next Chapter

Not Ok

Flashes of images invaded your mind. You were in a tank, arms restrained to your sides as the oxygen was slowly sucked out of the chamber, suffocating you. Your nails digging into the leather cushioning beneath you as you try to claw your way out.

Now you were strapped to a table, an array of needles embedded into your arms and legs as you were injected painfully with all kinds of different things you weren’t even sure of.

You startled awake before the sound of your alarm had a chance to rouse you from your sleep. Groggily you run a shaky hand over your face before rolling over to grab your phone checking the time. You still had about 3 hours before it was time to get up and get ready for work. Knowing you most likely weren’t going to go back to sleep, not that you wanted to anyways, you toss the covers off of you and head to the bathroom.

You turn the water of the shower on, waiting for it to heat up as you stand back up you catch a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror, taking in your disheveled appearance you sigh as you lean over the sink.

There’s visible dark circles under your eyes from being torn from sleep countless times over the last few months. You were sure why the nightmares had started back up again, it had been years since you had been freed from the Weapon X program so why was it all coming back now?

Pulling your tank top over your head you quickly undressed and hopped into the shower. The water cascaded over you, the warmth a welcome relief. You closed your eyes, as you felt your tired muscles slowly start to relax under the soothing spray. Lathering up your soap on a loofa you quickly washed and dried yourself putting on ample amounts of makeup to hide your dark circles.

Once dressed you sat down at your little table in the kitchen and helped yourself to a bowl of cereal as you checked your phone again.

So much shit was happening in the world, genocides, corrupt politicians running for power, starving children. It was all you saw anytime you opened up anything and it was all too much. The world was going to complete shit

You lock your phone and check the time, you still had about an hour before work. Slipping on your shoes you grab your keys and your bag and head out the door nearly bumping into Wade who was munching on a bagel in the hallway.

“Jesus fuck Wade!” You said placing a hand over your rapidly beating heart. “You scared the shit outta me!”

“My bad pookie bear. Didn’t know you worked today.” He said with a shrug adjusting his wig as he did so.

“Almost every day this week.” You said with a sigh rubbing a hand down your tired face. You had been doing that a lot lately. “God I’m so tired.”

“I hear OnlyFans is really popping off right now.”Wade said but it was hard to tell if he was joking or not with his straight face.

“Yeah? So what, you and Vanessa can be my only subscribers?” You snorted with an exaggerated laugh.

“I know for a fact Colossus would pay top dollar for a sneak peak of your toes!”

The sound of your ex's name made you grimace. Not that you had any ill will towards him, you were both still good friends albeit a bit awkward now that you’ve dated for a short time, but you still didn’t want the thought of him anyway near anything sexual you did.

“Hard pass.”

“Suit yourself.” Wade said taking another bite from his bagel and you two walked down the hall together.

You start to rub at your forehead as you felt a headache coming on as you walked, another occurrence that had started to happen more and more often.

“More nightmares?” Wade asks, his voice laced with concern as he watched you.

“Yeah…but don’t worry about it Wade.” You could handle yourself, a few ibuprofen and you’d be fine.

He calls your name, as if to say it’s too late not to be worried about you, but you wave him off as you dig around in your backpack for a second before pulling out a small black envelope.

“Happy birthday by the way! You’re hard as fuck to shop for so I hope you like it.” You smile at him as you hold out the gift hoping to change the subject.

With an exaggerated gasp Wade tosses his bagel behind him and holds up his hands up in surprise before taking the envelope from you, and ripping it open. Inside were two tickets to a Celine Dion concert, one of his favorite artists.

“Oh my-!” He starts with a gasp “I didn’t even know she was touring!” He cried excitedly as he pulled you into a tight hug.

“Yeah I had to basically stalk Ticketmaster for those so you’re welcome.” You said returning the hug.

“Sugar booger! I love it!” He said releasing you.

“Now you just gotta figure out who to take with you.” You said as you bump shoulders with him. “Maybe Peter….oooor I don’t know maybe a certain someone we all know and love who works at a particular strip club that we like to visit on occasion?”

“Peanut…” Wade warned, you held up your hands in surrender. It was like a kid trying to get their divorced parents back together.

“Look, all I’m saying is it wouldn’t hurt to ask her.”

“I’ll think about it.” He says quietly as he stares out deep in thought.

With that the two of you part ways, wishing each other a good day at work, Wade heading for his bike where Peter was waiting and waving at you, and you heading toward the bus stop.

Work at the pet shop was the same as always, mundane and mind numbing but it paid the rent so who were you to complain about it. You had your fair share of zooted teens coming in to ask dumbass questions and waste your time as well as the occasional fish snob who complained about the size of your tanks but all of that was typical of a normal day and honestly made it go by quicker. By the time you realized what time it was it was time to clock out and head on home to help set up for Wade’s surprise party.

Once home you dropped off your bag and changed your clothes putting on a loose fitted t-shirt and jeans with a cardigan before heading over to Wade’s place with a bunch of drinks. You didn’t drink much but everytime Wade went out on a “business trip”, as he called them, back in his Deadpool days he’d bring you back a bottle of something.

Inside Wade and Blind Al’s apartment across the hall, many of your mutual friends were already busy at work setting up for the party. Colossus Ellie and Yukio were busy blowing up balloons and decorating while Dopinder Buck and Vanessa were busy setting up the food spread.

Looking around yourself you felt a small smile tug at the corner of your lips, all around you were the people you and Wade loved the most and you were incredibly lucky to have them in your lives after everything you all had been through over the years. A pang in your chest made you hold a hand over it and your smile dropped. Something still felt missing though and no matter how hard you thought about it you just couldn’t place what it was.

“How you doing sweetheart?” A soft voice pulled you from your thoughts. Whipping around you were pulled into a tight hug by Blind Al.

“I’m doing alright.” You smiled weakly “How’d you know it was me?”

“I’m blind not deaf sweetheart,” she said “ain’t nobody else here sighing that hard but you and Wade and Wade’s not here yet.”

“Sorry.”

“Your dreams still giving you trouble?” She asks as she leads you further into the home.

“I wouldn’t say dreams, more like night terrors but yeah they are a little.” You say as you place the bag said booze you bought on the kitchen counter and follow Al to the living room where she seated herself comfortably in her recliner. “It’s nothing to worry about though.”

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter baby.”

For someone who was blind Al sure could see right through you sometimes.

“I’m probably just stressed is all.” You try to downplay the situation but Al wasn’t having it.

“It’s been months.” She says matter of factly.

“It’s been a stressful few months.”

“Look… I may not have been there when you and Wade went through what you went through in that program but it’s over now. It’s done and that Ajax guy can’t hurt you anymore.” She said resting a hand in her arm gently.

Al hadn’t been a part of the Weapon X program like you and Wade had been but that hadn’t stopped him from telling her in excruciating detail about all the horrible shit you both had gone through during it.

“I know Al I just-“ you start but stop not fully knowing how to describe what you felt. “I just wish I could switch my brain off, just hit the reset button and be done with it but I- can’t get the memories outta my head.”

“I know sweetheart it’s gonna take time but time ain’t gonna do shit if you don’t let people in to help you.”

You knew she was right but you’d be damned if you’d admit it out loud.

“When did this turn into a therapy session? I thought this was supposed to be a party.”

“Smart ass.” She said tapping you on the leg with her cane. “Go help Vanessa make the jungle juice before he gets home. I’m gonna go see if that dumbass has any Bolivian marching powder left in his stash.” With that she stood to her feet and went to her’s and Wade’s shared bedroom

“Oh Al come on! I thought you guys were done with that.” You called after her with a frown.

“Not till I’m dead babygirl.” She called back and if she could you think she’d wink at you.

Back in the kitchen you and Vanessa make quick work mixing and setting up the drink you bought making light conversation as you do so.

“So-“ she starts off but pauses as if deep in thought for a moment.

“So?” You ask curiously as you take a sip of the alcoholic punch taste testing to see if it needed anything.

“You uh seeing anybody new yet?” She asks.

You nearly choke on your drink in surprise.

“N-no I uh no I’m not.” You stuttered trying to compose yourself. “Are you?”

“Y-yeah there’s this guy. I met him at work, he’s kind.”

You could tell she was lying, but didn’t speak on it.

“Y’know, I hear Colossus has been talking about you to Ellie a lot lately.”

Here we go again you thought.

“Oh nah hard pass we tried that dance already didn’t really work out.” You waved her off, but she continued anyway.

“I’m just saying he’s a nice guy, and he’s big, like everywhere, and made of metal, that’s like totally your thing. Remember when we saw the Winter Soldier and you wouldn’t shut up about Bucky’s metal arm?”

Not she was calling you out.

“Just think about it hun, you're always stuck up in your apartment or at work, you’re lonely and I think a little human connection would do you some good.”

“Yeah alright I’ll think about it.” She smiles at you before caressing your cheek, like she was the big sister you never knew you had.

“But only if you think about giving Wade another chance too.” You slip in “Deal?”

She contemplates for a moment before she smiles back at you again. You knew she still had feelings for the man and so did he.

“Deal.”

Before either of you could change the topic of your conversation the front door opened up again, this time revealing Peter and Wade.

“Surprise!” Everyone shouted as Dopinder Ellie and Yukio threw confetti into the air.

“Oh you guys!” Wade gasps dramatically. “You’re lucky I’m not armed!”

“If this was five years ago you’d all be dead.” He laughed as he went around hugging everyone.

The party went on without a hitch. Wade intermingling with everyone as he was passed around the room. You stayed in your own little corner as you watched sipping on your third drink for the evening. Parties weren’t really your thing but for Wade you’d endure them when you had to. Just as you were about to move to get yourself another drink you spotted Wade and Vanessa talking quietly amongst themselves in the kitchen hovering over the punch bowl. With a smile just glad they were finally talking to each other you thought it better not to disturb them for the time being.

Soon after however you all found yourselves piling into the kitchen as Wade called for everyone to come and cut the cake. Wade snapped a few pictures on Yukio’s Polaroid, making some cheesy speech about how lucky he was to be surrounded each and every person he ever loved in one room, something you rolled your eyes at even though you had found yourself thinking the same thing just earlier, before going to make a wish blowing out his birthday candles as he did so.

The party continued to progress throughout the night and the stuffiness of all the bodies in the room was starting to get to you. Excusing yourself from conversing with Buck and Peter you step out into the hallway for a moment to try and get some air. Your head felt like it was swimming, probably from all the alcohol and not enough food, and you were starting to feel nauseated as a pounding sound hammered through your skull. Eventually you decided to take a step outside to get some actual air to see if that would help.

After a handful of greedy gulps of the fresh night air you finally decide to return to the party before anyone came looking for you. Once inside your hallway you spotted Wade first, but he wasn’t alone this time. Surrounding him were at least 5 guys all dressed in black body armor and masks with weird electrical looking batons in their grasps. Immediately your defenses rose as you silently crept up behind them.

“Oh peanut, you came back! I’d offer to let you join in on the orgy but I don’t think this guy here’s down for sharing me.” Wade quips as he sucks on a breath mint leaning on his doorway. His comment drew most of the men’s attention towards you but not before he drew it back to himself. It seemed that they could care less that you were even there. “He’s got this whole hate sex, love 'em and leave' em vibe going for him right now.”

“Shut your mouth clown!” The guy in the front snaps as he goes to grab Wade by his toupee. Just as he grabs it an orange doorway opens up behind Wade and a pair of arms reach out pulling him inside causing his hair system to get ripped off.

“Wade!” You shout as you sprung into action, using all your weight you shove two of the guys causing the three of you to fall through the strange orange doorway just before it closed behind you.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two Three

Dustin looks squirrely, which is as weird as it is nerve wracking for Steve. When Dustin looks squirrely it’s usually shit like he’s keeping a baby fucking demo dog as a pet.

Which Steve just...doesn’t want to deal with it any more. He’s had enough. He needs Dustin to have normal kid shit problems, not apocalyptic ones.

So Steve is, silently, praying to whoever will listen that Dustin wants, like, the sex talk or something, and not that there’s an inter-dimensional creature with a taste for nougat in Hawkins.

“Eddie says he’s okay.”

Which, Steve just kind of shrugs, because it’s the same message Dustin’s been bringing back for months. Nancy and Robin have stopped to listen too. John and Argyle have gone on a snack run and the rest of the kids are outside; so this feels kind of worryingly tactical on Dustin’s part that he’s telling a very select group this information.

“I’m pretty sure he isn’t, though.”

“Okkkayyyy...tell us what’s going on,” Robin leans against the counter, and Steve is so glad Dustin chose to do this with the girls here.

“Well,” and Dustin looks squirrely again and Steve figures he...he thinks he must be betraying Eddie, or something, “I thought he was, at first, you know? He was planning campaigns and writing music and just seemed to be...you know. Normal.”

“But…”

“Well he...the last few times I’ve been there he...he hasn’t gotten out of bed and,” Dustin wrinkles his nose, ready for the big betrayal, “there’s always a lot of empty like, beer cans and stuff and...he smells kind of. Bad.”

The girls looks at each other before Nancy finally says, “we will go and see him, don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

Steve watches as Dustin relaxes, and realizes for the first time that this was, probably, way over Dustin’s pay grade, emotionally speaking. They are the adults, and dealing with someone who...well, it’s got to be depression, right? Eddie was never okay, he was faking to start with. Even Steve can figure that out from what Dustin’s just said. Just because they’ve dealt with alternate dimensions and world ending monsters, it doesn’t mean that Dustin is equipped to deal with shit like this – yeah, definitely heavy stuff for a kid. And Eddie, would Eddie have been able to fake it if say the girls, or Steve, had gone over? Would they have noticed a problem that Dustin just, didn’t? Because for all they’ve been through, they’re still just kids. Dustin might not have noticed that Eddie was dragging himself out of bed and cleaning up just for the one or two hours a week that Dustin was stopping by.

But Robin would have...and Nancy definitely would have.

And now Eddie doesn’t have the energy to just...fake it any more, simple as.

This is heavy shit, too heavy for Dustin to have to deal with.

And that’s how Steve ends up ferrying the girls to the brand new Munson trailer, right at the other end of the park from where the old one was. Nancy’s in full investigative reporter mode, Steve can sense it. Luckily, Robin goes first, " we shouldn't have left him this long."

Nancy hums in agreement.

The doors not locked and no one answers, so they all end up spilling unceremoniously into the bedroom.

Dustin was being kind; it reeks of stale cigarettes and sweat. He was being nice about the beer cans too; it’s not just beer cans, worryingly there’s also empty vodka bottles and even a couple of wine bottles in the mix.

This is not something that has happened recently; this has been going on for months.

The place is a mess. Like a can’t even see the floor kind of mess.

In the middle of his visibly dirty bedding, Eddie snores on, oblivious.

“Steve, you get him in the shower, Robin and I will clean this up.”

Steve’s dubious, but he shakes Eddie’s shoulder gently. Nothing.

He tries again, firmer this time, and Eddie comes awake with an undignified snort and hands flapping at Steve’s, trying to get the movement to stop.

Steve can hear the girls rummaging out in the kitchen, looking for trash bags and rubber gloves, maybe a box for the bottles.

Maybe two boxes.

Steve shakes him again, “Eddie come on.”

Eddie does blink up at him then, clearly groggy and confused, but he smiles. Smiles so big and happy, he grasps one of Steve’s hands now, rather than trying to push it away, still smiling, he pulls it up to his mouth and kisses Steve’s knuckles softly.

Steve doesn’t know what his face is doing, but Eddie’s frowning, something like realization dawns on Eddie’s face, and then throwing Steve’s hand away like it’s burning him. Eddie moves quick, scrambling to the edge of the bed and leaning over it, and Steve realizes what’s about to happen a second too late; Eddie starts to throw up just as Steve moves, so his sneakers do get splattered a little bit.

Which...Steve’s probably trudged through worse, realistically speaking. There’s not really anything Steve can do about it now, so he gingerly sidesteps the splatter of vomit and, briefly, feels really sorry for the girls, “come on Munson, up.”

Eddie grumbles nonsensically, but does allow Steve to heave him up, his head lolling, still clearly very drunk. Eddie doesn’t put up much of a fight when Steve strips him; made easy by the fact that he’s wearing a stained tee shirt and dirty boxers that Steve abandons in a smelly pile on the bathroom floor.

He’s too thin; far too thin. Barely any weight at all on Steve’s arm, ribs all knobbly and skin stretched strangely over his joints.

Eddie slides to the floor under the warm water and Steve, not wanting to get any damper, makes no effort to stop him. At least sitting on the floor he’s safe; he can’t fall any further. Steve vaguely recalls something about little kids being able to drown in an inch of water, and keeps half an eye on Eddie as he digs around for toiletries.

He finds a sad bar of soap and shudders, but it’ll do. Steve gives Eddie the most perfunctory scrub down ever, doing his best not to look at or be aware of any part of Eddie’s body as he flicks the cloth over it.

The towel that’s hanging up looks dubious, but better than nothing.

Eddie’s showing no sign of rousing; Steve has no idea if he’s just...really really drunk still, or if he’s hiding. Steve’s brain prods at what he saw; Eddie’s reaction to him.

There’s one logical conclusion that he’s trying his best to avoid. Unfortunately, no matter how he angles it...his conclusion remains the same. There’s one obvious answer. Eddie looks like a sad drowned rat under the water, and Steve shuts it off, covering him with the one sad towel.

Eddie shivers without the heat of the water, and Steve tries not to feel guilty. This isn’t his fault. He’s not...if Eddie had a Steve, he’s not him. He didn’t, die, or anything. It’s a bit of a headfuck, and thankfully Robin interrupts by shoving the door open far enough to press through a bundle of clothes; black sleep pants and a hoodie, but better than nothing, “there’s no clean clothes, it’s the best we could find,” she whispers.

Which, okay, they’re kind of musty, but at least not obviously dirty.

Eddie huffs through Steve pulling his clothes on, standing awkwardly as Steve pulls his pants up like you would with a little kid.

Steve dumps him on the couch; immediately feeling bad about the whole thing. Guilt, maybe, but he pushes that away harshly because this isn’t Steve’s fault. It’s no one’s fault.

Well, except for the labs and then One. But there’s no one here to blame and it’s...ridiculous that Steve would feel bad about it.

This isn’t the time. Eddie’s passed out again, so Steve gets a glass of water from the kitchen, leaving it on the table where Eddie will find it, before he goes to help the girls.

“We absolutely cannot leave him here.”

“No, agreed, being alone is not good for him.”

“He’s not alone,” Steve protests, “Wayne’s here.”

“And Wayne works twelve hour nights six days a week and has done nothing about this so far,” Nancy replies, brooking no argument, “we’ll take him to yours, he needs to dry out.”

“Mine?” Steve squeaks, “look, uhm, maybe not mine-”

“Why not yours?” Robin cuts him off, “you have the space, and no one else around. I can come and stay, help you keep an eye on him.”

And although all of that is true, Steve doesn’t know how to tell them what he’s just figured out, and having Eddie in his house feels...awkward as fuck.

Eddie’s like a zombie out of one of his games. He has to be encouraged out of bed, Robin putting herself to the task, and that takes a good hour on the really bad days. He picks at toast. He picks at eggs. He picks at whatever's put in front of him.

He doesn’t fight it when they take the spirits away, he doesn’t fight it when he’s allocated three beers a day; he never looks for more. He doesn’t fight anything. He’s broken. So broken Steve has no idea what to do about it. The kids come and go, maintaining conversation around Eddie that Eddie will vaguely engage with whenever one of the kids addresses him directly.

Otherwise he sits there, inert. The kids talk about school and their nerd games and all that normal stuff, and then they leave again.

Sometimes it’s just Eddie and Steve in the house, and that's enough to make Steve want to throw himself into the lake; Eddie’s presence is uncomfortable, and Steve immediately feels guilt every time he feels like that.

Eddie saved their lives. Eddie fought off actual mind control and took out One like it was nothing. Eddie saved the world, at great fucking sacrifice to himself, and Steve feels like a total dipshit every time he has to remind himself of it.

He has to do something for Eddie. He has to try and get through to him somehow.

He has an idea, and when he tells Robin he’s going out for a bit, she doesn’t question it.

Steve delivers Wayne an update when he picks up Eddie’s records. Wayne seems like a good guy, even though he’s completely out of his depth with Eddie, he seems to be able to roll with the punches. He believes the kids want what’s best for Eddie, and that seems to be enough for him for now.

Eddie’s lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling, seeing nothing.

Steve picks one of his records at random, ‘Holy Diver. Dio,’ and puts it on the record player on low. He has Eddie’s guitar too, his notebooks, the rule books from his dumb game. Steve brings it all in in bits and pieces and leaves it on the coffee table. He leans Eddie’s guitar against the end of the couch.

By the time he’s finished, Eddie seems more alert; is actually watching Steve. Steve gives him a nod, and leaves him to it.

It changes something. Something undefinable. Eddie seems to be...making an effort. Robin says she thinks he’s coming around; remembering how to be a person. She thinks he’s making a good first step. He still drinks three beers a day, but they’re pretty much the weakest ones available and Steve thinks he’s doing it more out of habit than anything. There’s no other alcohol in the house.

What Steve thinks he knows has been gnawing at him too. Bothering his insides. He understands the girls logic; this is probably the best place for Eddie to be, but given what Steve thinks he’s figured out, this might also be the absolute worst place for Eddie to be.

He feels like he’s haunting him; the dead love of Eddie’s life, following him around every single day. Steve can’t even imagine what that’s like; Eddie even just having to look at him must hurt. Other questions always follow, like, why Steve? Was it random? Eddie must be gay, right?

Was Steve just the easiest one for Eddie’s brain to summon up in the moment? Or was there something else there, feelings that were easy to manipulate? Was there a reason it was Steve, or not?

He could spend hours chasing the thoughts if he let himself. Instead he makes himself and Eddie something to eat, a couple of sandwiches, and then takes them through. He sits, eating his own, and watching as Eddie nibbles on his. Things have moved; even as Steve watches, Eddie puts down the sandwich and scribbles in his notebook.

Steve’s just getting up to leave when he stops at the sound of Eddie clearing his throat, he still won’t look at Steve when he speaks, “thanks, uhm, for getting my stuff.”

It’s been a while since Eddie has spoken to Steve directly, and Steve hesitates a second, feeling like this is his chance to try and...he doesn’t know. Say something meaningful. Fix Eddie, somehow, say the exact right thing to make it better, eventually he just says, “no problem, man.”

Eddie nods, Steve waits in case there's more, but there doesn’t seem to be. He makes it to the kitchen door before Eddie speaks again, “you guys, you’ve probably saved my life.”

He is looking up as Steve now, chewing on the end of his pencil nervously, “you saved ours first,” Steve tells him.

Eddie huffs out the smallest, driest laugh, “didn’t realize it was a competition, Harrington.”

Steve leaves him to it, it’s not much, but it’s a start.

“You had a kid, right? Tell me about them?” It’s a push Steve knows. Their brief conversations turning into the occasional ten minutes on the deck when they both go out for a cigarette might have become regular, but they’re by no means secure. Steve might be about to bring the whole fragile thing down, but he needs to know. It’s eating him alive.

Eddie just shakes his head, ‘no.’ and sips at the beer he has. A beer Steve is pretty sure Eddie should not have, even if it is only a psychological thing, at this point, but Robin continues to be adamant that Eddie going completely cold turkey would be a really bad idea, so Eddie continues to have an allowance.

‘Well, fuck it,’ Steve thinks, ‘might as well try it,’ “come on, they were ours, right?”

Eddie snorts, “she was always more like you than-” he stops, cutting himself off. But it’s all the confirmation Steve needs.

Eddie looks at him then, horrified, before scrambling up.

“Eddie, stop, it’s okay-” Steve tries.

“Fuck you Harrington,” Eddie growls at him with more emotion than Steve's seen in Eddie since the whole thing happened, and then throws the beer bottle, not at Steve, exactly, but close enough that broken glass scatters around his shoe, beer smattering the patio slabs and the smell of it rising to fill Steve’s nose almost immediately.

Eddie stomps into the house, and Steve can hear Robin asking what happened, clearly concerned; she must have heard the bottle smash, “I cannot stay here with him,” Eddie spits, before the moment passes.

Robin comes out a moment later, “Nancy’s with him, what the fuck just happened?”

Steve’s a little stunned by the confirmation and then the close run in with the beer bottle, but regardless he wouldn’t hide this from Robin, “it was me, Robs. The...Eddie’s wife? I guess, not a wife, me.”

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[velarisdusk]

Burning Desire

Eris Vanserra x Reader

Series Masterlist Part 4 <- ✦.⁺.✦.⁺.✦ -> Part 6 - Embers to Ice

word count: 17k (AAAAA?) content: [ explicit sexual content, unprotected PIV, BDSM, power dynamics, bondage, gags, sensory deprivation, pain play, spanking, paddling, flogging, begging, degradation, praise | infidelity, emotional infidelity, explicit language, alcohol, drinking, smoking (cigarettes, marijuana), bitches are fake as fuck, bad rebound choices, i.e. casually fucking someone who you KNOW has had an actual crush on you for years and not caring, the Vanserra family is a loving one in this he deserves happiness ] summary: In a depression following being caught cheating, a troubling phone call brings a harsh revelation. Distraught and in need of comfort, you turn to Eris, who's been trying to reach out since that night. He provides the emotional and physical escape you need. author's note: oh. my. god. i've been working on this for what feels like a decade i feel like years have been taken off of my life. school has been killer (negative), writing this was killer (positive), and i hope you enjoy >:)

It’s been two weeks.

Two weeks of rotting in bed, drowning in self-pity, and starting your days with cigarettes and bottles of rum. Over a week ago, you threw your phone into the drawer of your nightstand, barely resisting the urge to post a pity-filled story for your close friends. Before you essentially vanished, you noticed texts from Feyre and Mor. That was nothing out of the ordinary, but you didn't read them, dreading their content. Were they upset? Angry? What did they think of you? Were the messages even about the situation? You couldn't say if they knew or not.

You also received messages from Az, Eris, and Tarquin. Their concern surprised you, figuring that bro code would have outranked you on the list of priorities. But then, were they even still talking? If you were Cassian, you’d probably cut off all communication.

It was a complicated situation. They all worked together and had for years. They couldn’t just walk away; they were bound by contracts. You wondered how practice was faring if it was even happening. By now, they must have realized that Cassian wasn’t speaking to you. Whether they kept things private or shared the news with Feyre, Mor, or anyone else, you had no idea. You hoped they had the sense not to all come downstairs at once after your departure with Cassian. But even if they were careful, it must have been noticeable when they started reappearing suddenly.

Two weeks of these thoughts hurtling through your mind.

You haven’t told your mother why you showed up disheveled at her door in the night. How could you? You couldn’t bear to face her after admitting what you’ve done.

But as the hours stretch endlessly, a surge of loneliness (only the latest of many) finally drives you to your phone. You respond to the texts from Azriel and Tarquin, reassuring them that you’re as fine as you can be. When you open the text thread with Eris, you’re caught off guard.

Hey, just checking in. How are you holding up?

If you need someone to talk to I’m around. Seriously.

Look, I get that it might seem weird coming from me, but I’m genuinely concerned. No strings, I just want to make sure you’re okay.

I’m not trying to pry, but isolation doesn’t help. If you need a break from everything, my line’s always open.

You sit there, staring at the string of messages, each one making you feel a little more seen, a little more cared for. You aren’t even sure you want to acknowledge that right now. It’s almost too much, the kindness wrapped in Eris’ words, especially when everything else feels like it’s crumbling around you.

But Eris’ texts… they’re a lifeline, a small thread of connection in a sea of isolation. You pick up your phone again, reading through the messages once more, feeling the sincerity behind them. The idea of responding, of reaching out, is both comforting and terrifying. But the thought of facing all of this alone, of letting it continue to eat away at you in silence, is somehow worse.

Your fingers start to move, typing out a response before you can second-guess yourself.

you’re not prying, thanks for checking in. captain morgan’s been keeping me company lmfao

No sooner do you turn your phone off and toss it onto the bed beside you does the screen light up again with a buzz. That was fast.

Sounds like he’s good company, but maybe not the best listener. How about a real conversation instead?

You can almost hear the playful tone in his words, a lightness that cuts through the heavy fog of your thoughts. It’s enough to make you smile, just a little, even as the weight of everything else still hangs over you.

Another buzz and his next message appears.

Seriously, if you want to talk, my door’s open. No pressure, just an offer.

You can tell he’s trying to strike a balance, not pushing it too hard but still getting through your head that he’s there. It’s disarming in a way, and it leaves you wondering if maybe, just maybe, you should take him up on that offer.

thanks eris, i might take you up on that. it’s just… a lot rn, yknow?

There’s a pause, the seconds ticking by as you wait for his reply. You don’t have to wait long, and it’s as straightforward a reply as you expected.

I get it. You didn’t make the mess alone, just wanted you to know you don’t have to deal with it alone. And if you want to get out of your place for a bit, my offer still stands. You can even invite the captain as your plus one if that helps.

You smile at that, a small huff of amusement escaping you. The thought of getting out of your old childhood bedroom, of not being surrounded by the same four walls that have seen you at your lowest, is more appealing than you’d like to admit. Maybe a change of scenery, and the chance to talk things out with someone, would help.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard as you think about how to respond. Part of you wants to dive in and take him up on the offer right away, but another part of you hesitates, unsure how it would look if Cassian found out. You decide to keep things simple. You don’t respond.

Without paying any mind to the countless social media, text, and call notifications from your other friends, you open your texts with Nesta and make a FaceTime call. The thought of her blunt honesty is a small comfort in your otherwise bleak current existence.

Her face appears on the screen, and though her expression is one of surprise and concern, you can’t help but feel a twinge of relief.

“Where’ve you been? You look…”

She trails off, her eyes narrowing as she takes in your appearance. You glance at yourself in the small window at the top corner of the screen. Your eyes are puffy and red, your face is pale, and the bags under your eyes seem darker than ever.

“Talk to me,” Nesta says, her voice gentle but firm, as if trying to cut through the fog of your despair.

You draw a deep breath, the weight of your emotions pressing heavily on your chest. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit, your voice trembling. “Everything feels like it’s falling apart. I’m a fucking mess.”

Nesta’s gaze softens further, her concern palpable. She leans in slightly, her tone soothing yet resolute. “You can tell me whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m here.”

The hesitation is palpable as you search for the right words, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. Finally, you find the courage to confess. “I messed up, Nesta. I don’t know what to do. I feel like I’ve ruined everything.”

Nesta’s expression tightens, her eyes flicking to something off-screen for a moment before she returns her focus to you. She runs a hand through her hair, a sigh escaping her lips as she gathers her thoughts. “Just... try to explain what happened.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your emotions before asking, “Do you know what’s been going on?”

Nesta’s gaze momentarily shifts away, a flicker of something you can’t quite read passing over her face. “I’ve heard bits and pieces,” she begins, her tone deliberately vague. “But I’d rather hear it from you.”

Sensing her evasiveness, you decide to give her a broad overview. You explain the guilt and confusion you're feeling, how everything seemed to unravel and make the situation worse than you could have imagined. You describe the betrayal and the weight of not knowing how to mend things. By the time you’ve caught her up, your words are coming out through hysterical cries and gasps for air between sobs.

Nesta listens quietly, absorbing the emotional weight of your words. Her expression reflects a mix of sympathy and contemplation as she processes the gravity of what you’ve shared.

“I broke that boundary to hell, Nesta. I ruined everything.” Your voice trembles with the weight of your confession, the words feeling like a leaden anchor pulling you down.

Nesta’s brows knit together, her concern deepening as she tilts her head slightly. “What boundary…?” she asks, her tone gentle yet probing, as if trying to piece together the fragments of your unraveling story.

You swallow hard, trying to steady your breath, but a sniffle escapes you. “They’ve all been pretty flirty with me since the beginning, and Cassian and I… we decided early on that we didn’t mind it?” You pause, glancing down at your hands as you fidget with the red scrunchie around your wrist, twisting the fabric between your fingers. “So we’d just let them like… make comments… touch up on me a little–”

A sudden, sharp gasp crackles through the phone speaker, cutting through your words like a knife. Your eyes narrow as you stare at the screen in confusion. That sound hadn’t come from Nesta; you’d been watching her intently this whole time, and her lips hadn’t moved.

You furrow your brows, your heart quickening with unease. “What was that? Is there someone there with you?” you ask, trying to keep the edge of suspicion out of your voice, but failing.

But her face is the image of calm, save for the confusion in her furrowed brows. “Huh? Oh, it was just the TV,” she says, quickly flipping her phone around to show you the screen. The shaky camera reveals a reality show playing in the background, the exaggerated drama of strangers’ lives filling the awkward silence.

But your gut tells you something’s off. The way her hand shook just a little as she moved the phone, the tension still lingering in her posture. It all feels wrong. Despite her attempt to brush it off, the seed of doubt has been planted, taking root in the back of your mind.

Nesta flips the phone back to face her, and her voice is smooth and encouraging as she speaks. “So, what are you going to do? Are you going to talk to him?”

You hesitate, letting out a sigh as you rub your temple. “I don’t know. I’m scared of what he’ll say, or worse... what he won’t say. I don’t think I’m ready for that kind of rejection, Nesta.”

She nods slowly, her expression softening into one of understanding. “You have to do what feels right for you, but running away won’t make it any easier in the long run. I know it’s—and I’m sorry to say this—your fault, but you still deserve to know where things stand, even if it’s hard to face.”

You shift uncomfortably, the weight of her words pressing down on you. “I know, I just... I need time to think. To figure out what I want, what I’ll do.”

Nesta listens patiently, offering her quiet support as you continue to spill your thoughts. The conversation drifts from your immediate fears to the what-ifs. She shares some of her own experiences, her voice a mix of tough love and genuine care, giving you just enough space to feel heard without feeling judged.

The minutes tick by, and soon you find yourself leaning back into the pillows, the exhaustion creeping in. You talk about other things too, and an hour passes before you even realize it, the conversation winding down naturally, both of you running out of things to say. It’s a comfortable silence now, a brief respite from the storm of emotions you’ve been weathering.

“I should let you go,” you finally say, your voice soft. “Thanks for listening, Nes. I... I needed this.”

Nesta smiles, a touch of warmth breaking through her usual stoic demeanor. “Anytime. You know I’m here for you.”

You nod, feeling a little lighter, if only for a moment. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

As you move to end the call, you hear it—faint, but unmistakable. A voice, muffled but clear enough to make out the words: “No way–”

Your heart skips a beat, but before you can react, the call disconnects, leaving you staring at the screen, that single phrase echoing in your mind. The voice wasn’t Nesta’s, and it sure as hell didn’t come from the TV. You know that voice. It’s familiar in a way that makes your stomach churn, your pulse quicken. The realization hits you like a ton of bricks, a cold wave of dread washing over you.

It was Elain’s. You’re sure of it. You sit there for a moment, phone still in hand, your mind racing. But why would she be there hidden from view? Why wouldn’t she just say hello or at least make her presence known? The questions tumble over each other, forming a gnawing pit of unease in your gut.

Then, like pieces of a puzzle snapping together, the thought hits you: Elain was listening in, but she didn’t want you to know she was there. The secrecy, the way Nesta quickly tried to cover it up. It wasn’t just about eavesdropping. No, it felt intentional, like Elain was trying to gain insight into your situation with Cassian. Your breath catches in your throat as the implications sink in. A cold, hard truth begins to crystallize in your mind. She wanted to know the details because it mattered to her. It mattered because she’s involved—because she and Cassian are…

You don’t want to finish the thought, but it’s there, undeniable and ugly. Elain and Cassian. It explains the secrecy, the way Nesta tried to protect her, and the sickening feeling gnawing at your insides.

The weight of it is almost unbearable, pressing down on you as you sit there, phone in hand, processing the cruel truth that’s just come to light. Elain and Cassian. How? Why? You never saw any sign in their interactions before. The bitterness of the revelation is a sharp, relentless edge in your chest — you need to do something, anything, to shake off this feeling.

You push yourself up from the bed with a determined resolve, your mind racing with anger and the need to reclaim some sense of control. First things first: you need to wash off the remnants of the last two weeks, the sweat and guilt that cling to you.

The hot water of the shower is a welcome relief against your skin, and you let the steam envelop you, trying to wash away the emotions churning inside. You lather up, scrubbing away the sweat and liquor and cigarette smoke, letting the water run over you until you feel clean, both physically and mentally. You stand under the spray, letting the water cascade down your body as if it could cleanse the memories away. When you’re done, you run a comb through your hair, detangling the wet strands with care before blow-drying and styling it, every strand perfectly in place and your arms sore by the time you’re done.

You reach for your phone, fingers hovering over the screen as you debate your next move. Finally, with a deep breath, you type out a message to Eris:

you still up for company?

It’s simple, to the point, and carries the weight of everything you’re feeling right now. Maybe you shouldn’t be doing this, but you hit send before you can overthink it, nerves and anticipation bubbling in your chest. As you wait for his reply, you glance at yourself in the mirror, taking in the freshly styled hair, and the clean skin. You look entirely different than you did this morning. You’re someone in control, someone who knows what she wants. Your phone buzzes.

Absolutely. I’ll swing by and pick you up.

You weren’t expecting that, but you don’t hesitate before replying with the address. His response is swift.

See you in 15.

Your eyes linger on the screen, absorbing his words as you double-tap and leave a heart his message. Something is grounding about the certainty in his response. No hesitation, no questions, just action. You set your phone down and take one last look in the mirror, a quiet determination settling in your chest. He’ll be here soon, and you have just enough time to get dressed.

You see Eris pulling up through your window, the white Jaguar rolling to a stop, and you take a deep breath before heading toward the door. As you walk down the driveway towards him, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the car’s window. Jean shorts and a hand-cropped t-shirt—casual and understated.

Eris’s eyes meet yours as you approach the car, his expression softening with concern. There’s no sign of the smirk you usually see on his face. Just a steady gaze that feels sincere. He leans over the center console and opens the door for you, a simple gesture, but one that makes your heart feel lighter.

As you settle into the passenger seat, you set your tote bag down in the footwell. It holds a mostly full bottle of Captain Morgan, a pack of Newports, some gum, and a lighter you grabbed on your way out.

Eris’s eyes flick to the neck of the bottle sticking out of the bag before he asks, “Bringing the party with you?”

You shrug, offering a faint smile. “You did say I was allowed a plus one.”

He nods, his tone softening. “That I did... You okay?” he asks, pulling away from the curb.

You glance at him, a bit surprised at the shift from teasing to concern. “Not really,” you admit quietly.

Eris gives a small nod, his eyes still on the road. “Could’ve guessed the answer, huh?” he remarks, the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly.

You offer a wry smile and a quiet “yeah.” You glance out the window as the sunlight reflects off passing buildings. “But I figured getting out of the house might not hurt. What were you thinking of doing?”

Eris keeps his eyes on the road. “I can swing by somewhere if you need to grab something or,” he pauses, a sly grin forming. “Or if you’re up for unwinding a bit…”

You raise an eyebrow, catching the playful glint in his eye. “What are you suggesting?”

He shrugs, one hand gripping the steering wheel casually. “We could stop by my plug’s place and pick something up, if you’re looking to take the edge off. He’s got some good shit.”

You lean back in your seat, considering his offer. The idea of numbing your mind with something other than liquor is very tempting. You glance at Eris, his casual demeanor giving nothing away, but you can sense that beneath the surface, he’s paying close attention to your reaction.

You nod, feeling a sense of resolve settling in. “Let’s do it. I could use a change of pace.”

Eris keeps his eyes on the road, but there’s a flicker of approval in them. “Alright, then,” he says with a grin, shifting lanes smoothly as he changes direction. His hands move with practiced ease, one gripping the steering wheel and the other shifting gears with effortless precision. You glance up from your phone just in time to see him reach into the center console. He pulls out a sleek pack of Dunhills, taps one out, and lights it with a quick flick of his lighter.

The cigarette sits casually between his lips, its ember glowing softly as its smoke curls lazily around him. “Want a cig?” he asks, his tone casual as he cracks his window.

You hesitate for a moment, then nod, reaching out for the cigarette sticking out of the pack. Eris passes it to you with a small knowing smile, his eyes flicking briefly to meet yours before returning to the road and lowering your window for you. You take a drag, the smoke filling your lungs and momentarily dulling the edges of your lingering unease. It’s quite the difference from the menthol kick of your usual Newports. The flavor is richer, with a deep, earthy undertone that’s almost woody. It feels more refined, less about the immediate hit, and more about a lingering, sophisticated aftertaste. You exhale, the smoke curling in the air, and the taste leaves a warmth that’s oddly comforting.

“Helps, doesn’t it?” he glances at you, a touch of curiosity in his gaze.

You exhale slowly, watching the smoke get pulled out the window. “A little… Thanks,” you say, and you both know it isn’t just for the cigarette.

Eris nods, his grin widening slightly. “Anytime. We’ve got a bit of a drive, so just get comfortable. We’ll hit the place soon.”

You settle back as Eris merges onto the highway. The sun is high, casting a warm light over the passing scenery. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the classic rock on the radio make for a relaxing ride. You gaze out the window, watching the landscape shift as the car speeds along. After finishing your cigarette, you hold onto the butt, not willing to litter. Eris is focused on the road, so you just hold onto it, unsure what else to do.

A few minutes later, Eris chuckles and glances over, eyebrow raised. “Were you going to hold onto it the whole ride? Come on, you can’t be serious.”

You give a small laugh, shaking your head. “Well, I wasn’t going to throw it out the window.”

Eris smirks, his eyes flicking to the cigarette butt in your hand. “Just give it to me.”

He reaches over, fingers brushing against your wrist as he tries to take it from you. But you’re quicker, pulling your hand away with a playful glare. “No!” you protest, holding the butt out of his reach. “You’re gonna throw it out the window!”

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he leans closer, making another grab for it. “I won’t, I promise.” And for some reason, you believe him.

He takes the cigarette butt from your fingers and, with a practiced motion, opens the center console and undoes the locking mechanism on a glass jar. He drops it in, the jar already filled with likely a pack’s worth. The jar seals with a soft click, likely why you hadn’t noticed any lingering smell before. He shuts the jar and console, his attention never wavering from the road.

The smell-proof jar, not even considering littering, doing it all while keeping his eyes on the road—it’s the kind of thing that shouldn’t be as hot as it is.

The drive stretches on with the radio playing softly in the background. You watch the scenery blur past as the car weaves effortlessly through traffic. With the windows still cracked, you catch a glimpse of Eris’s auburn hair tousled by the breeze. The sun casts long shadows across the highway, and you find a strange comfort in the steady rhythm of the drive. Eventually, Eris slows the car, steering off the main road and into a sleek, gated driveway. The place is an upscale, modern mansion with neatly trimmed hedges. Not what you expected. He parks near the entrance and turns to you with a casual smile.

“I’ll leave the car running,” he says. “Lock up, I’ll be quick.”

You nod, watching as he gets out and heads toward the front door. The gate closes behind him with a gentle click, leaving you alone in the plush interior of the car. After a few minutes, Eris reappears with a small, discreet bag in his pocket. He slips back into the driver’s seat, the bag placed neatly into the center console.

The car pulls out of the driveway, and Eris’s eyes flick toward you as he navigates the streets with practiced ease.

“Any special spots in mind, or are you up for anywhere?” he asks, the hint of a grin in his voice.

You shrug, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “Nah, yours is fine.”

He gives a teasing scoff, putting a hand on his chest as he speaks. “My place is special, (y/n), you wound me.”

His words pull a genuine laugh from you. It really wasn’t that funny, but hearing your name on his tongue so casually stirs a nervous flutter in your chest.

“What’s so special about it?”

“Besides the view, or the pool, or the game room?” he pauses for dramatic effect, lowering his voice to a murmur. “Yours, truly.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Is that so? And what makes you so special?”

Eris lets out a soft laugh, his gaze flicking to you before returning to the road. “Well, I’ve been told I’ve got a talent for making things unforgettable.”

“Someone’s got a massive ego.”

He grins, his eyes glinting with confidence. “Guilty as charged. You like it though.”

You roll your eyes at that, unable to keep the smile from creeping onto your face any longer. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“Ah, you didn’t deny it. I’ll take it.”

“You’re impossible,” you laugh softly, shaking your head.

As the highway fades into the background, the road before you begins to wind through lush greenery. The towering trees start to crowd in, their canopies forming a dappled, sunlit tunnel. Fields of wildflowers stretch out on either side. The road curves gently, revealing glimpses of a large, elegant house nestled among the trees, its silhouette framed by the tranquil lake shimmering in the late afternoon light.

When you step inside, the first thing you notice is how effortlessly cool the place feels—like it’s been designed with a blend of sophistication and laid-back charm. The living room is spacious and airy, with large windows that let in plenty of natural light, casting a warm glow over the polished wooden floors. The furniture is a mix of sleek modern pieces and cozy, oversized cushions that invite you to sink in and relax.

Eris heads over to a low cabinet and retrieves a small grinder and some neatly rolled-up papers from a hidden drawer. He moves with casual confidence, clearly in his element. You couldn’t help but wonder how many women he’d invited here for a smoke before you, having to remind yourself that this wasn’t that. You’re here as a friend who needs an attentive ear.

“So,” he says, flashing a grin as he begins grinding the weed, “what do you think of the place?”

You settle into the sofa, taking in the room’s ambiance. The walls are adorned with tasteful art, and the scent of cedarwood and something subtly herbal fills the air. It’s inviting.

“Not bad, huh?” Eris continues, leaning against the cabinet and looking down at the papers in his hand.

You chuckle, glancing around. “Yeah, it’s alright.”

His eyes dart up to meet yours, a playful, mock-surprised smile on his face. “Crazy…” he murmurs.

You roll your eyes with a smile. “Oh come on, you know it’s a nice place. I'm not gonna shower you with more compliments than you need.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he sits on the couch, starting on the joint. The sound of the grinder and the rustle of the papers are the background to your conversation. “Fair enough. But before we get too cozy with this,” he nods toward his work, “let’s talk. I’d rather hear how you’re really doing.”

You hesitate, feeling a bit vulnerable all of a sudden. “I don’t know if I can get through it all sober.”

Eris looks at you with a soft, reassuring smile, his fingers pausing briefly as they work the paper. “Just try.”

For a moment, you’re silent, the sound of the grinder filling the space between you. You look around the room, at the art on the walls, the low light casting a warm glow over everything. It’s easier to focus on that than on the storm inside your head.

But then you find his gaze again, and the quiet concern in his eyes makes something inside you crack, just a little. "It’s just… everything’s been so overwhelming lately," you begin, your voice soft. "I keep making these choices that… I don't know how to explain it… I’m digging myself into a deep, deep hole. And I don’t know how to get out." You hesitate as you try to find the right words. “It’s just… I don’t even know why I let it happen. I mean, I love Cassian, he’s everything to me. But every time I’m with you,” the words catch in your throat, and you quickly clarify, “with all of you, I mean… I feel like I’m losing myself, like I’m just drifting through all of it without thinking. It’s like I’m not even in control anymore.”

Your voice trembles as the floodgates open, the words spilling out faster than you can stop them. “And the guilt… it’s eating me alive. Every time I’d see Cassian, it was like I was drowning in it. When we went to sleep at night, when he’d kiss me, when we cooked dinner, when he’d tell me he loves me and I said it back with a straight face, knowing what I’ve done… I keep asking myself why I did it, why I kept doing it, but I don’t have an answer. I don’t even know if I’m looking for one or if I’m just trying to justify something that can’t be justified.”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the weight of it all is too much. “I thought I could handle it, that I could keep everything separate, but it’s all tangled up now. I’m tangled up. And I don’t know how to fix it, or if I even can.” You pause, swallowing hard as you try to gather your thoughts. Focusing on how methodically he rolls the joint is the only way you can keep from crying. “The past couple of weeks have been a nightmare,” you continue, your voice barely above a whisper. “Every day feels like I’m just… going through the motions. I wake up, and for a split second, everything’s fine. But then it all comes crashing back, and I remember what I’ve done. It’s like this constant weight on my chest, and I can’t breathe.”

There’s a heavy silence as you finish, the room feeling almost too quiet. You glance at Eris, the exhaustion in your eyes reflecting your need for a break from the emotional turmoil. “I can’t keep talking about this right now,” you say, your voice wavering slightly. “I just need to… I don’t know.”

Eris nods, a knowing look in his eyes. “Yeah, I got you,” He stands up, moving with a relaxed confidence, and heads towards the kitchen. You watch him, feeling a small flicker of relief at the prospect of a distraction. He returns with two glasses of ice, setting them down on the coffee table before lighting the joint and pointing towards your bag for the rum. When you reach to pour the drinks, he gently takes the bottle from you, pouring them himself.

You take the glass when he offers it, the alcohol warming your insides and helping to dull the sharp edges of your thoughts. Eris hands you the joint, a small, encouraging smile on his lips. “Here’s to a temporary escape,” he says, his tone lighter now.

You take a slow drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs and the effects of the alcohol and weed start to mingle in your system. The combination is soothing, and you feel the tension begin to ease. As the minutes pass, you can feel the fog of intoxication settling in, and your thoughts become less jagged.

A while later, the room is darker now, the only light coming from the soft glow of the lamp on the side table. The drinks are empty and the bottle of rum you brought stands proudly, and emptily, in the center of the table. The joint is long finished, and the conversation has shifted from heavy to light. You and Eris are more relaxed on the couch, and the air is filled with more classic rock, the remnants of laughter, and the gentle hum of your voices.

You lean back, feeling pleasantly buzzed, the haze of the alcohol and weed wrapping you in a cocoon of warmth. Eris is sitting right next to you, his leg pressed against yours, his hand resting casually on the cushion next to you. The shared warmth and comfortable silence between you feel natural.

“You know,” you say, your voice slightly slurred but lighthearted, “I didn’t think I’d find myself here tonight, like this. But... I’m glad I did.”

Eris glances over at you, a small smile playing on his lips. “Sometimes the unexpected turns out to be the best part of the night.”

You chuckle softly, the sound mingling with the music playing in the background. “Yeah, it’s funny how things work out. I definitely needed this more than I realized.”

He nods, his eyes softening as he looks at you. “It’s good to let go now and then. Just don’t forget there’s still shit to unpack when you’re ready.”

You let out a deep sigh, your gaze drifting around the dimly lit room. There’s a moment of hesitation as the weight of your earlier conversation looms on the edge of your thoughts. The alcohol and weed have softened the edges, but the heaviness is still there.

Eris shifts slightly, his hand moving a bit closer in the process. Whether it was intentional or not, you don’t know. “You know,” he says gently, “it’s not every day you find someone willing to listen without judgment. You should take advantage of that.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the pressure build behind your eyes. “Cassian… he’s been nothing but loving, nothing but kind to me. And it kills me, Eris. It kills me to look at him and know that I’ve betrayed him in the worst possible way. Multiple times.” You feel the lump in your throat as you continue, the warmth of the alcohol making it easier to let your words flow. “I keep trying to think of ways to fix it, to find some sort of answer or way to redeem myself. But...” Your eyes search the dim room as if trying to find some clarity in the shadows.

“I keep going over every moment, every decision, wondering where things went so fucking wrong. It’s like replaying a movie where I know the ending is tragic, but I can’t look away. I did this shit to myself…

“The hardest part is that he saw everything. He didn’t even need me to confess; he saw it with his own eyes. And everytime I replay that night, I think about how coldly he looked at me. He’s never looked at me like that before. Not that I don’t deserve it.” You glance at Eris, the weight of your emotions clear in your eyes. “I’m trapped in this cycle of guilt and regret, and it’s suffocating. I don’t even know what I’m looking for anymore—whether it’s forgiveness, understanding, or just a way to get rid of all this guilt. The thought of facing Cass again… God, I can’t…”

Eris’s eyes narrow slightly as he takes it all in, draping an arm across the back of the couch. You aren’t quite close enough for it to wrap around you.

You mentally chastise yourself for wishing you were. Thinking like that is what got you into this mess.

His voice is low but steady when he speaks. “You’re human. You made choices. Bad ones, sure, but it doesn’t make you a monster.” He pauses, his gaze intense. “It’s easy to get lost in guilt. But you’re not doing anyone any favors by going MIA. Especially not Cassian.”

You scoff. “Cass doesn’t want to talk to me.”

“How are you so sure?” he asks, his fingers drumming lightly against the couch, the rhythm steady and patient, unlike the chaos unleashed in your mind by the simple question.

The Facetime with Nesta shoves itself to the forefront of your mind as if your subconscious has been holding it back all this time. You’d heard Elain’s voice in the background, imagined her laughter mingling with Cassian’s, imagined him sharing her breath, his tongue deep in—

The thought hit you like a sucker punch, just as the air had been knocked out of your lungs the moment you’d put the pieces together.

“I’m pretty sure Cassian is fucking Elain,” you blurt out, your voice shaking with the weight of the confession.

Eris’s expression doesn’t change, but his eyes sharpen. “Why do you think that?” he asks calmly, though there’s a new edge to his voice.

You swallow hard, the memory still raw. “When I was on a call with Nesta, I heard Elain in the background. She was trying to listen in on me ranting about this all to Nesta… She didn’t even say hi to me, didn’t let me know she was there. Why would she do that unless she was hiding something?”

Eris raises an eyebrow, his expression skeptical but curious. “You might be reading too much into this,” he says, but the sharpness of your gaze makes him backtrack quickly. “Alright, alright, I didn’t mean it like that. Just… how are you so sure they’re involved?”

You exhale sharply, frustration evident. “Cassian is incredibly vindictive in bed,” you say, thinking back to all the times he’d gone hard on you just for catching you making eyes at one of the guys. “I’ve been through his friends, I’d be more shocked if he didn’t try to go through mine.”

Eris’s eyes narrow thoughtfully. “Most of his friends.” He doesn’t elaborate but the implication is clear. “I’m not saying you’re wrong, but it’s not always best to assume the worst.”

A fleeting thought crosses your mind. Eris is right. You and he never crossed that line, despite the heated moments over the years, despite the events the night of Ianthe’s party. If Cassian is dropping you off on your mom’s doorstep just to go after your friends, maybe it’s time for you to stop moping around and start embracing some fun yourself. Why should you sit at home and stew when he’s out there doing who knows what? Who knows who? For all you knew, Nesta had fucked him too. And, honestly, Eris doesn’t look half bad in that black, fitted t-shirt and tailored jeans, the thin silver chain around his neck glinting in the low light. There’s a roguish charm about him, just as there’s always been. It’s something that makes him undeniably tempting.

You look down at your lap with a sigh, a feigned sadness in your eyes, and a playful pout on your lips. “Well, if Cassian’s going to do whatever he wants, maybe I should too.” You look up, letting your gaze linger on him, lowering to his lips before meeting his eyes again.

Eris’s eyes flicker with surprise, but he maintains his cool as he raises a brow. “Is this where we’re headed now? I thought we were in the middle of something a bit more serious.”

You scoot closer to him, close enough for the hand on the back of the couch to rest on your shoulder if he wanted it to. “Maybe I’m tired of pitying myself. Or maybe I’m feeling adventurous.” A glint of mischief sparkles in your eyes before you slip back into your act.

Eris chuckles, a faint smile curling his lips. “A distraction, huh? You know that won’t fix anything.”

You shrug, maintaining your demeanor. “Who says it has to be about fixing anything? Sometimes a little distraction is just what you need,” you level. Tired of the theatrics, you scoot even closer and grab that god-forsaken hand, placing it gently on the back of your neck.

Eris’s fingers linger there, his expression shifting from playful to intrigued before he traces soft patterns on your skin. “Is that right? And here I thought you were just looking for a friendly ear.”

You lean closer, your voice dropping to a softer, more flirtatious tone. “You mean to tell me you didn’t have any other intentions? Not a single fleeting thought?”

Eris’s gaze drops to your lips, his eyes narrowing with intrigue. “So, what are you suggesting? Are we breaking some rules tonight?”

You let out a soft laugh. “Yeah, something like that. A night of enjoyment. No strings attached, just...”

Your words trail off as you close the distance between you, your lips meeting his in a slow, heated kiss. His hand grips the back of your neck, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. It starts slow, almost exploratory, but quickly deepens as you both lose yourselves in the moment. The taste of liquor lingers on his tongue, a heady mix of rum and something uniquely Eris. You savor it, letting the alcohol-infused warmth of the kiss sweep over you. Your lips move against his with increasing urgency, and you gently tug at his lower lip, pulling him closer.

Eris’s hand tightens around the back of your neck, his fingers sliding into your hair as he angles his head to deepen the kiss. His tongue meets yours with a bold, almost possessive stroke, and you pull back just slightly, your breath mingling with his. Your eyes lock, the heat still palpable between you. “I like the taste of you,” you murmur, a playful glint in your eyes.

He exhales, a low, throaty sound that’s part groan, part sigh, as if you’re unraveling him with every word, every touch. It’s the kind of sound that sends a shiver through you, making you feel like you’ve got him right where you want him. His eyes darken with desire and amusement before he leans back in to capture your lips again. This time, the kiss is more intense, a dance of passion and need. His hands roam to your waist, pulling you even closer. The world outside seems to fade away as you both lose yourselves in each other.

Eris’s lips trail down to your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You arch into him, the sensation of his touch making you shiver. You let out a soft moan as he kisses a sensitive spot just below your ear, making your pulse race. You’re left feeling lightheaded from the drinks and the smoke, and every touch, every caress feels electrifying. His hands slide up to your back, pulling you tighter against him, if possible.

His lips return to yours, and this time, the kiss is unrestrained, filled with a raw, urgent need. You can feel the strength in his arms, the way he holds you close, as if afraid that letting go might make this moment slip away. He pulls back just enough to look into your eyes, his gaze smoldering. There’s a breathless pause, the intensity of the moment hanging between you. “You said you were feeling adventurous,” he says, and you shrug. “How adventurous?” His voice is low and his words are laced with an intensity that wasn’t there before.

You let out a soft laugh, the sound almost breathless from the heated kiss. “You’re not planning on taking me out back and murdering me, are you?” you joke, looking out the large windows at the sea of tree silhouettes around you.

Eris’s lips curl into a half-smile. “Well, I hadn’t thought of it, but now that you mention it…”

You nudge him playfully, your smile widening.

Eris’s expression turns serious again, though the amusement in his eyes doesn’t fade. “I promise, nothing like that. But I do have something in mind that might be a bit… beyond what you’re used to.”

You look into his eyes, feeling a mix of anticipation and excitement. “I sincerely doubt that,” you say, your voice steady. You’ve had more than your fair share of sexual escapades, indulging in all kinds of experiences in past relationships. And with Cassian, the bedroom was never without a spark—rarely did things stay simple.

Eris’s eyes brighten with satisfaction. “Good to hear.”

He stands and grabs another joint he’d rolled earlier, offering you a hand to help you up. You take it with a playful smile and follow him.

The music fades as you follow Eris down a short flight of steps. The hallway is lined with eclectic art and framed photos. One with Eris surrounded by a bunch of dogs, a grin on his face that’s more genuine than you’ve ever seen. Another with the Vipers, his arm slung casually around Azriel, all of their faces flushed with victory. You have to talk yourself out of paying too much attention to Cassian in that one. There’s even one of him with who you assume is his family, standing in front of a cabin, all smiles and warmth. It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before, and it makes you see him in a different light—one that’s more personal, more real.

At the end of the hall, a large bookshelf stands against the wall. Eris pauses, throwing you a sly glance before reaching for one of the books. He pulls it, then pushes the bookshelf open, revealing a short set of steps leading down into a hidden space below. How cliché.

“After you,” he murmurs, gesturing for you to step inside.

You look at him with creased eyebrows, to which he only gestures his arm in again. You find a lounge, set slightly lower than the rest of the house, with five or so steps leading down into it. The room is richly decorated, with dark wood paneling, plush seating, and warm, ambient lighting that adds to the intimate, secluded atmosphere.

Eris follows you inside, closing the bookshelf door behind him. The room is completely private, a hidden sanctuary within his home. He steps closer, holding the joint he rolled earlier between his fingers. “What do you think?” he asks, his voice carrying a note of quiet pride.

You take a moment to absorb the space, your eyes drifting over the rich details—the king-size bed on the far wall, the soft glow of the lighting, the floor-to-ceiling mirror on one wall, the smooth texture of the dark wood, the way the room seems to envelop you in warmth. It's intimate without being suffocating, luxurious without feeling ostentatious. You notice cabinets discreetly integrated into the walls, their contents hidden behind polished doors. A smirk tugs at your lips as you turn to face him. “I can honestly say I wouldn’t have expected this from you, Eris. A sex dungeon? Really?”

Eris arches a brow, looking mildly offended. “Dungeon? That’s what you’d call it?”

You raise an eyebrow in response, your teasing tone unwavering as you gesture around the room. “Isn’t that what it is? Hidden room, dark wood, all the ambiance… seems like a dungeon to me.”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing playfully. “Dungeons are cold and grimey. This is a private lounge, a sanctuary, carefully curated for… specific tastes.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound echoing softly in the room. “A curated sanctuary, huh? You really do have a way with words.”

Eris’s lips curve into a smirk as he reaches for your hand. “Words, among other things.”

He lets the words hang in the air, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. You arch an eyebrow, leaning in slightly as if challenging him. “Among other things?” you echo, your tone playful. “Care to elaborate?

He steps closer, his gaze steady and full of intent. “You’ll find out soon enough,” he replies, his voice smooth as silk. “But first, I need to know how far you’re willing to go.”

Your heart skips a beat, not out of fear but from the thrill of the unknown. You’re no stranger to pushing boundaries, and something about Eris’s confident, almost predatory demeanor only heightens your anticipation.

Instead of answering directly, you take a step closer, closing the remaining distance between you. “You really think this kind of thing is—What was it you said? ‘Beyond what I’m used to’, was it?” you tease, your lips curving into a smirk.

Eris’s smile widens, his eyes gleaming with challenge. “Alright, alright,” he murmurs before he pulls you in by the small of your back for another heated kiss, and he speaks against your lips. “You have full say in how this goes, I don’t want to go any further than you’re okay with.”

You pull him off by the hair on the nape of his neck, and the muted hiss that escapes him shoots straight to your core. “Oh, well if I’ve got full say,” you say, sarcasm lacing your words. “Give me whatever you think I can take, and then some.” You give him a dazzling smile, but he can only look at you in wonder.

His hands find your waist, giving the flesh there a tight, possessive squeeze. He leans forward, bringing his lips to your ear. “C’mon, pretty girl, strip for me.” His voice is low, almost coaxing, with a soft yet commanding tone that makes your skin tingle.

Though you’re surprised at his suddenness, you don’t hesitate. As you begin to strip away your clothes, Eris steps away, moving toward a large set of deep drawers. He looks back at you as he goes, drinking in your every movement as you peel off each item of clothing. First you shed your shirt, then the shorts, followed by your socks, underwear, and even the scrunchie on your wrist. The air thickens with anticipation as you wait, rather impatiently, to see what he’s looking for.

“Y’know, most guys wouldn’t have their back turned to the beautiful, naked woman in their basement,” you muse, examining your nails as you stand perfectly tall.

“First, it’s not a basement.” He turns to you, black rope in hand, his smirk tinged with an emotion you can’t quite place. “But you’re right, baby. I’m sorry. How about I make it up to you?”

You have to suppress a shiver at his words, or maybe it’s because of the cool air on your bare skin. He takes you in like it’s his first time seeing you, like he didn’t have you practically grinding against the heel of his hand two weeks ago. You’re not sure if it’s the substances in your system or the prospect of doing whatever he can imagine to you, but he feels different today than he had then.

Eris reaches into one of the drawers and pulls out a small, sleek controller. With a quick press of a button, a rig begins to descend from the ceiling, the soft hum of the motor filling the room. He keeps his eyes on you, holding the controller loosely in one hand as the rig stops at around eye level.

His tone is almost casual as he walks back towards you with the rope, the controller goes into his pocket. “Ever use one of these before?” You can only shake your head in response as you walk around the metal hook, thinking for the first time that you may be in over your head. “Good. Go ahead and kneel there for me.”

Eris moves behind you as you kneel, working the rope through the rig and instructing you to place your hands behind your back. The rope isn’t as rough against your skin as you anticipated. His hands work with practiced ease, securing your wrists together. He steps back, watching you with a satisfied expression. Then, with deliberate slowness, he begins to raise the rig, the rope tugging your wrists upward. The position forces you to stand as it continues to rise, his eyes narrowing as you do.

Once you’re in position, bent forward with your arms forced behind you, Eris steps closer again, his fingers tracing the line of your spine. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs against your ear. His fingers skim up your arm, lingering at the nape of your neck. His touch is almost tender, a stark contrast to the tension in the room. “Is it okay if I–”

“Do whatever you want,” you interrupt, your voice steady even as your heart races. “If I don’t like it, I’ll let you know. Just do something, please…” You needed a distraction from your thoughts, and the newness of this all was sobering you up.

A slow, approving smile spreads across his lips as he nods. Without another word, he goes to a cabinet, selecting a few items with deliberate care. When he returns, the scent of him envelops you as he carefully ties a blindfold around your head, plunging you into darkness.

You hear the soft rustle of fabric and the click of something plastic. Before you can dwell on it, the world goes silent as something is placed over your ears. The shift is sudden, disorienting. The subtle hum of the room, even the sound of your own breathing, everything fades away, leaving you in an almost eerie stillness.

The rope tugs uncomfortably, but not painfully, at your wrists, the tension in your arms pulling you taut. Your heart pounds, each beat echoing in your chest, reminding you of the vulnerability you’re allowing yourself. Then you feel it—a gentle tap on your jaw, followed by his thumb brushing against your lower lip, pulling it down slightly. You take the hint, opening your mouth for him. The next thing you feel is cool metal pressing against your lip as he slides a ring gag into place.

“If you need to stop,” he says after raising an ear of the sound-canceling headphones, “shake your head and I’ll check on you. Nod if you understand.”

Just as you do, the pad is back over your ear.

You feel the air shift as he moves around you. Deprived of your sight and sound, your body becomes hypersensitive to every touch, every brush of fabric, every subtle shift in temperature. The tension in the air is palpable, your anticipation growing with each passing second.

A light touch trails down your spine, causing you to shiver involuntarily. The sensation is followed by the warmth of his hand as it settles on your hip, steadying you. You can barely hear your own breath, the sound muffled and distant, heightening the sense of isolation. Then, a gentle tap against your inner thigh. You instinctively spread your legs, the vulnerability of the action sending a rush of heat through your body as his touch lingers, waiting.

Then, without warning, a sharp sting lands across your ass. Your body jerks in response, the sting quickly dissolving into a low, throbbing heat. The unexpected strike pulls a soft whimper from your gagged mouth, but before you can even process it, another comes, and then another, each one precise and measured.

The blows alternate with the soft caress of his hand, the contrast between pleasure and pain pushing you deeper into the headspace he’s crafting for you. The strikes aren’t overwhelming, but each one is enough to remind you of the power he holds in this moment, the control you’ve willingly surrendered.

You lose track of time, each sharp strike followed by soothing touches, the rhythm lulling you into a dazed, almost meditative state. The gag keeps your mouth open, forcing you to focus on the steady rhythm of your breathing, each inhale and exhale carrying a mix of adrenaline and endorphins. The warmth of saliva trickles from the corners of your mouth. The rhythmic stinging across your ass slowly transforms into a heated, throbbing warmth that radiates through your body. Each strike, followed by the soft caress of his hand, leaves you in a heightened state of arousal and anticipation, melding into pain and pleasure that lull you deeper into the experience.

Suddenly, the warmth of his touch disappears, and you’re left in disorienting solitude. The absence of his presence makes you acutely aware of the emptiness left behind, amplifying your anticipation. Without warning, you feel something cool against your inner thigh, followed by the unmistakable sensation of a vibrator pressed against your dripping cunt. It’s startling, and though you can’t hear it, you moan, loud and needy.

His hand is on your hip, steadying you as the vibrations increase in intensity. The buzzing becomes loud and clear as he gently pulls the headphones off, and you hear them thud as they fall somewhere. The sudden reintroduction to sound is jarring as the room’s noises flood back in—the loud hum of the vibrator, the sounds you hadn’t realized you were making, the now husky tone in his voice. Each sound is more vivid than before.

Eris’s voice breaks through this new sensory flood, warm and approving. “You’re doing so well for me, baby,” he murmurs, his tone a soothing balm. After being spanked, then paddled for God knows how long, between his calm, reassuring voice and the relentless vibrations against your cunt, you aren’t sure how long you’ll last.

His fingers replace the vibrator, brushing lightly against your clit. He teases your folds, just enough to drive you wild with need. You squirm against the rope, desperate for more contact, for release.

“You want more, don’t you?” Eris’s voice is low, almost a purr as he leans closer. His breath is warm against your ear. “Tell me what you need.”

He rubs slow circles against you, his fingers like fire against your skin. You try to articulate what you need, but the gag muffles your words into incoherent sounds. The frustration of being so close and unable to finish draws an exasperated groan from you, and he responds with a deep, dark chuckle. Eris’s touch withdraws entirely, leaving you in aching anticipation. The sudden absence of his touch is maddening, your body craving the completion he’s denying you. You can’t see him, but you can feel the warmth of his presence lingering near.

Minutes pass, or maybe just seconds—time has lost all meaning in this swirling haze of sensations. Without warning, you feel the sharp sting of a flogger grazing your inner thighs, just enough to remind you of his control. The flogger’s strikes alternate between gentle taps and more forceful hits, never quite enough to satisfy your growing desperation, but enough to keep you on edge. Each touch pulls you further into the comforting fog he’s woven, and your whimpers morph into sharp yelps of pain, each one more urgent than the last.

“Poor thing,” he murmurs, his voice laced with mock sympathy. “Does it hurt, baby?” His tone is tender, but there’s a sharp edge beneath it that promises much more pain.

You groan, the sound a mix of frustration and need, but Eris’s expression hardens. The flogger lands on your skin again, a sharp crack that reverberates through your body. He grips the hair at the nape of your neck tightly, yanking you closer until your breath mingles with his. You can feel the heat of him, the solid presence that’s both terrifying and intoxicating. His lips hover near your ear, his breath raising goosebumps on your skin.

“Do you have something to say?” he asks, his tone noticeably darker and more dangerous. There’s a tense, almost impatient edge to it, a sign that stepping out of line is not an option. “A complaint? Are you ungrateful for what I’m giving you?”

The flogger’s strikes become more deliberate, more vicious. Each one lands with a stinging, biting pain that blossoms across your skin, the sensations mingling with the ache of your muscles straining to hold the position he’s put you in. He’s toying with you, savoring your helplessness, the way your body trembles and arches under his control, the way your breath hitches in anticipation of each new strike.

“Who’s in charge?” he whispers in a slow, deep voice, every word dripping with malice. You try to answer, but the gag in your mouth turns your response into a pathetic, muffled sound. Your eyes squeeze shut in frustration, tears of helplessness welling up and quickly absorbed by the blindfold. You can’t form the words, can’t tell him what he wants to hear, and that only makes it worse.

He clicks his tongue, a sound of feigned disappointment, and tugs your hair again, forcing your head back. “Ah, couldn’t quite catch that,” he sneers, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement.

You whimper, the sound a pitiful mix of plea and frustration, and he chuckles, a dark, cruel sound that sends a fresh wave of heat pooling in your belly. He’s enjoying this — enjoying how easily you bend to his will, how every strike of the flogger makes you jerk forward with a cry. He wants to see it all, the way you crumble under his touch, the way you surrender every last shred of control and hand your worries away to him.

“I control how this goes,” he growls. “You said you’d be good for me, baby. Did you lie? Do I need to stop treating you like a good girl? Because I can do that if that’s what you want.” The flogger strikes down in the middle of your back with a crack that feels like it splits you open, and you cry out, the sound desperate. Your body lurches forward, but Eris’s hand is still in your hair, holding you in place, forcing you to stay still, to take every single lash he’s giving you.

“Look at you,” he hisses, his voice dripping with condescension. “So fucking needy. You love this, don’t you? Being my little toy, something I can break however I feel like.”

The words cut deep, the filth of them sending shockwaves through you. You hate how true they feel, how much you crave the pain, the degradation he’s giving you. The flogger strikes again, harder this time, and your knees almost buckle from the force of it. But you don’t fall. He won’t let you.

“Oh, you like when I treat you like this. You like this a lot better than before, I can tell. You’re just a fucking hole, aren’t you?” he continues. “A pretty little slut who’ll do anything to please me. Do you even have any shame left, or do you need me to fuck some sense into you?” The flogger descends again, and again, each strike punctuating his filthy words. “I’m going to break you, baby. Turn you into the perfect little slut who’ll take everything I give and then beg for more. And you’ll love it, won’t you? You’ll love being nothing but my whore, thinking about nothing except wanting my cock.”

Each word, each degrading, filthy word, sinks into your mind, pushing you further into the haze of submission. The pain of the flogger, the sting of his words, they’re all you can think about. Your world narrows to just him — his voice, his hands, the way he’s tearing you apart and building you back up, molding you into what he wants, what you need.

He pauses, the flogger still resting against your skin, the rough leather a reminder of what’s coming next. He drags it slowly down your back, letting it scrape over the welts he’s already raised. The sensation is entirely new, a subtle pleasure and pain that leaves you trembling.

“You feel it, don’t you?” he murmurs, his tone a bit gentler now, but still laced with that underlying cruelty. The change gives you whiplash. “I can see it. You want to be good for me, don’t you? You want to show me just how perfect you can be.”

The flogger strikes again, and you gasp, the sound a desperate cry. But this time, he doesn’t stop. He strikes again, and again, the rhythm relentless. Each lash pulls you further from the chaos of your thoughts, dragging you into a dark, twisted place where nothing exists but him. The pain and pleasure blend together until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins.

“You’re going to remember this, baby,” he promises. “You’re going to remember how it feels to be mine, to be owned. And you’re going to beg me for it again, aren’t you? You’re going to come crawling back desperate for me to use you, to turn that pretty little mind off and break you all over again.”

He’s right. You can feel it, deep in your bones, in the way your body responds to him, in the way your mind clings to every word he says.

Eris’s eyes never leave your face, his gaze predatory as he watches you fall apart for him, unraveling under the weight of his dominance. You’re exactly where he wants you — lost in the moment, completely detached from anything and everything happening outside these walls. As the flogger comes down one last time, sending a final, searing wave of pain through your body, you know that this is exactly where you need to be tonight.

Finally, when you’re trembling, he lowers the flogger and returns to your clit, the light, teasing touch of his fingers reigniting the fire within you. “You feel that, baby?” he whispers, his tone teasing. “Feel how wet you are for me? You like when I hit you, don’t you?” He drags two fingers up your center, gathering your slickness on them before bringing them up to your open mouth. “How badly do you want to come?”

You nod, desperate to show him how much you need this, but he’s not finished with you yet. “Tongue out,” he purrs, his voice a low, silky command that sends a shiver through your already trembling body. Without a moment’s hesitation, you obey, sticking your tongue through the cold metal of the ring gag. A string of saliva spills out at the motion, glistening in the low light, and you hear a soft, satisfied exhale from him.

Eris drags his fingers down your tongue, cleans them off inside your mouth, pressing them against your tongue. “Can you taste how badly you want it?” His voice is a dark, teasing caress, each word wrapping around your mind, sinking deeper into that place where only his voice and touch matter.

You can’t respond, not even attempt to, but the question is rhetorical anyway. He doesn’t need an answer; he knows. He withdraws his fingers, leaving your mouth empty, yearning for more. The loss makes you whimper, as does the ache in your jaw — a pitiful sound that he savors as he continues, his tone a mix of mockery and care.

“You can taste how good I’m making you feel, how much you love it when I hurt you. You want to taste something better, baby?”

Before you can process what he means, you hear the familiar flick of a lighter, the soft his as the flame catches. Your heart thumps in anticipation. A moment later, the smell of weed fills the air, earthy and heady.

Eris takes a slow, deep drag from the joint, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before he leans in close. His lips brush against the edge of the gag as he exhales, blowing the smoke directly into your mouth. It’s so unexpected, so sudden, that you choke, your body convulsing slightly as you try to inhale and cough at the same time.

The thick, pungent smoke fills your lungs, burning them and reigniting your high. You can feel him watching you intently, relishing the way your body reacts.

“Breathe, baby,” he murmurs, his voice deceptively gentle. “I want to see how much you can take.”

Your chest heaves as you fight to draw in air through the second cloud of smoke he blows your way. He chuckles, and with an almost casual motion, he reaches up and unfastens the gag, pulling it away from your mouth. The relief is immediate, but it’s laced with the residue of his control, the taste of smoke lingering on your tongue.

“There we go,” he coos, running his thumb over your wet, trembling lips. “Such a good fucking girl, taking what I give you. But we’re not done yet, are we? No, you’re going to give me more, right?”

His thumb presses against your lower lip, parting your mouth slightly, and you instinctively suck on it, the action almost automatic. Your body responds to him without thought, driven purely by the need to please, to submit, to give him everything.

When he finally, finally begins to untie you, his hands are gentle but firm, his touch careful as he releases the ropes one by one. The sensation of freedom is almost overwhelming after being bound for so long. But before you can fully process it, his hands are on you — supporting you and guiding your arms back down slowly and carefully. He pulls the blindfold from your eyes, and you try to readjust to the lighting.

He’s taking another pull, holding the joint between his lips as he takes you in. But that isn’t what stops you in your tracks. At some point during your immobility, he’d rid himself of his shirt, and you couldn’t stop your eyes from taking him in. His hair is tied back into a bun, strands having fallen loose around his face, and his chest is covered in a glistening layer of sweat. Images of Eris spanking you, walking around you and assessing where to land the next blow, of the muscles in his arms flexing as he strikes. The hungry look in his eyes and the tightness of his jeans as he watches you writhe under his touch.

“How do you feel, baby?” he asks, his tone teasing with an undercurrent of genuine curiosity. “Did I get you there? That nice little headspace where it’s just you and me?”

His voice is soft, but there’s an edge of satisfaction in it as if he already knows the answer. “Did it help?” he continues, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “Did I get you out of that busy little head of yours?”

You nod, still dazed by the intensity of the experience. You’d felt blissful before, sure, but this was entirely different. This was unadulterated endorphins and adrenaline. He grins, the expression both proud and wicked. “Good,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm against the lingering sensations.

But he doesn’t stop there. He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. “Now, let’s see how long I can keep you floating, yeah? You’re not done yet.” Eris tosses the flogger in the general direction of the shelf it goes on, and guides you with a commanding yet gentle touch to a mat on the other side of the room, placed in front of full-length mirrors. The surface underfoot is soft and inviting, and he helps you kneel in the center, the plush cushioning molding to your knees. He moves behind you, his hands brushing along your arms until they rest on your shoulders, a comforting weight as he leans in close. He hands you the joint, inviting you to take a few hits before handing it back. The smoke in your mouth, in your lungs, it only boosts the floating feeling you have from the experience of this all.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, his voice a low, velvety whisper that wraps around you like a warm embrace. “So beautiful, so ready. But I need you to understand something, sweetheart.” His hands slide down your arms until they reach your wrists, guiding them up to the back of your head. “I need you to be ready to trust me completely. How far I push you now is all about helping you relax, so you can completely lose yourself.”

He pauses, letting his words sink in, his breath warm against your ear. “This isn’t about making things difficult, not for either of us. It’s about you letting me guide you through this. I want you to be my good girl, to follow my lead and take everything I give you.”

His hands rest on your shoulders again, squeezing you lightly. “You’re going to do everything I ask, aren’t you? You’ll be obedient, you’ll let me push you, because you know I’m going to take care of you, don’t you?” His voice is soothing, like honey, and you can’t help but melt into it. “You’re going to give me all of you, every last bit, and in return, I’ll give you everything you need. Remember how you begged for this last time we were together? I want you to be that good girl for me again.”

As his words echo in your mind, you recall the last time you were with him, at Ianthe’s party. The memory is all too vivid — your desperate need, your willingness to surrender completely. You had been so open, so eager, voicing all your desires and pleas. The way you had let go of all inhibitions, the intensity of your submission, and the way your words had spilled out in a fervent, almost frenzied confession. The memory is as intoxicating now as it was then, all things considered.

His words are a gentle invitation, luring you in with a calm confidence that makes it impossible to say anything but yes. You feel hesitant as you consider the depth of your commitment. The tension in your chest tightens for a moment, but then you nod slowly, your voice soft. “Yes,” you murmur, the word barely a whisper but laden with an unspoken promise to embrace whatever he asks of you.

Eris’s fingers brush lightly over your hands, guiding you to interlace your fingers. He steps back to observe you, his eyes raking over your form, taking in every detail. The floor beneath you is hard, unforgiving, but his presence—his authority—keeps you grounded. The anticipation builds as he circles you slowly, like a predator assessing his prey.

“Knees wider," he orders, his voice still soft but with a firm undertone that brooks no disobedience. You adjust, spreading them further apart, feeling the strain as your muscles stretch. You watch him through the mirror, watch how he gives a satisfied smirk as you obey. You finally see how blissed out you look. A dewy sheen of sweat covers your body, your chest rises and falls deliciously with each breath, and your skin is red where you remember him flogging you. You couldn’t imagine what your ass and thighs looked like; red as fire, you imagined, if the lingering, stinging pain was anything to go by.

“Arch your back for me.” His hand is at the small of your back, applying gentle pressure until you curve just the way he wants. The uncomfortable position has you on edge, completely exposed, and yet there’s a strange comfort in the way he controls you, in how thoroughly he’s taking over your body and mind.

Eris takes his time, relishing the sight. “Look at you, already so perfect for me,” he purrs, his hand trailing down your spine in a slow caress that sends shivers through you. “You’re going to stay just like this, sweet girl, you hear me?”

You nod as he runs a hand over your head in a soft caress, trails that hand down your spine. Then, without warning, his touch sharpens—a sudden, firm grip on your hips, followed by the sting of his hand against your ass. The first slap is light, almost playful, but it quickly escalates. The next one lands harder, and he pauses to run his hand over the reddened skin, soothing it briefly before delivering another, even harder.

"Does it hurt, baby?" he teases, his voice a low murmur in your ear. "Or does it just make you want more?" He doesn't wait for an answer. Instead, he continues, alternating between sharp spanks and gentle caresses, pushing you to embrace the pain, to find pleasure in the way he’s handling you.

"You’re so good for me," he continues, his tone dripping with satisfaction. "Taking everything I give you. I bet you love it, don’t you? The way I’m making you feel?" He chuckles a bit at your lack of response. “You can speak now, sweetheart, I took the gag off for a reason.”

You hadn’t realized you’d been holding your breath. “Hurts…” you manage to whimper, your muscles shaking. “Hurts really good. I want more.” He spanks you again. Hard.

“Is that how good girls get what they want?” he asks, eyebrows furrowed and you recover from the sting of pain.

“No, I’m sorry,” you rush out, wincing from the pain of the spank, the soreness in your legs and arms. It’s too much. “Please, will you give me more?”

He takes one last, long drag from the joint, finishing it off and throwing the roach towards a bin. He drags his fingers down your back again, only to grip your hips and pull you further back, adjusting your position until you’re even more exposed, your knees straining to hold you up. The discomfort is intense, but the way he’s pushing you has you on the brink of something deeper, something more primal.

Finally, he moves in front of you, his eyes dark with intent. He cups your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. "If you want more you’ll have to work for it, baby.” You nod eagerly and he smiles endearingly. “You’re going to show me just how badly you want me," he says, his voice a mix of tender command and raw desire. "And you’re going to do it the way I like."

He steps closer, guiding your face until your lips hover just in front of the zipper of his jeans. "Open that mouth wide for me," he coaxes, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before pressing it down. "That’s it. Nice and wide."

You obey without hesitation, the need to please him overwhelming everything else. He pulls you into him, his hand resting over your interlaced ones, rubbing your face and mouth into the denim. You feel pride at the way his cock grows stiffer without having taken him into your mouth. You can only imagine how good it must feel to get fucked by that cock, to have it slam into you from below when you ride him, to take it so deep down your throat you can’t even taste his release. A low ‘Now, look at that’ pulls you out of your thoughts, and you look up to see his arms crossed over his chest.

“I don’t even have to ask you to keep going,” he says, his voice laced with arrogance. Your ears turn red with embarrassment when you realize you’ve been practically nuzzling your face against his cock, but oddly, there’s a twisted sense of contentment mingled with it.

He takes his time undoing the button and zipper of his jeans, mere centimeters from your still-open mouth. No one can make taking jeans off hot. No one except Eris, apparently. His fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer, but not too much—just enough to remind you who’s in charge.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of him. His cock is hard and throbbing, a rich, warm shade of pink with a slight flush at the tip. The girth is impressive, making your mouth water with anticipation. It stands proudly, the pre-cum at the tip glistening slightly under the dim light. You lean in, ready to take him into your mouth. The heat and tension in the air are palpable, and you’re just about to close your lips around him when he gently but firmly grips your hair.

"Not yet,” he murmurs, a playful edge in his voice. “You’re in a hurry, aren’t you? I haven’t given you permission yet.”

You pause, your lips hovering inches away from him. Your eyes flick up to meet his, a mixture of frustration and amusement dancing in your gaze. “You’re cruel, you know that?” You drop your arms, the strain of holding them there finally too much. He notices the shift, but to your relief, he doesn’t say anything, letting it slide.

Eris smirks. “Cruel? I prefer to think of it as… thorough. You wouldn’t want me to rush, would you? A little patience never hurt anyone.”

Your eyes narrow playfully. “Patience, huh? I expect a good reward afterward.”

He raises an eyebrow, his grip on your hair loosening slightly. “Is that so? And what kind of reward are you hoping for, baby?”

“Something a little more satisfying than just this,” you say with a teasing smirk, your wit finally returning after being silenced for so long. “I’m thinking you could make all this worth my while.”

Eris chuckles softly, looking down and relishing the view of his cock hovering over your face. “I will, without a doubt. But you need to be patient,” he repeats. His eyes linger on you as he shifts, rubbing his cock slowly against your cheeks and lips. The touch of his skin is warm and firm, and each movement is calculated, gliding with a teasing pressure. The pre-cum at the tip leaves a subtle, slick trail that only adds to your arousal.

You feel the ridges and veins of his cock brushing against your skin. His touch is firm but purposeful, making sure you feel every bit of his arousal. He takes pleasure in the way your lips part involuntarily, the way your breath hitches with each stroke. Eris’s breathing grows a bit heavier, his gaze intense as he watches your reactions, savoring the build-up and the control he exerts.

As he continues, he lightly traces his cock along your jawline and over your closed eyelids, creating a delicious blend of sensations. The warmth of him mingles with the coolness of the room, heightening the contrast between the two. He pauses occasionally, teasingly pressing his cock against your lips or rubbing it against your forehead, only to shift and start again.

Your need intensifies with each passing moment, the teasing just shy of maddening. You try to keep your composure, but the craving to have him in your mouth is overwhelming. Finally, unable to bear it any longer, you whisper, “Please… let me.”

Eris’s lips curl into a satisfied smirk, clearly pleased with your plea. “Now that’s what I like to hear,” he murmurs, his grip tightening slightly in your hair as he guides you closer. “Go on, baby.”

With a soft breath, you lean in, finally closing the small distance between you and him. The moment your lips wrap around the head of his cock, a soft groan escapes him, and it sends a thrill through your body.

Slowly, you take him deeper, your tongue gliding along his length, savoring the warmth and the weight of him. The slickness of his pre-cum makes it easier to slide him into your mouth, and you hollow your cheeks as you move. His fingers thread through your hair, guiding your rhythm, and you can feel the tension in his body, the barely contained control he holds over himself.

You focus on the sounds he makes—the low, husky breaths, the occasional hitch in his voice when you find a particularly sensitive spot. Each reaction spurs you on, encouraging you to take him deeper, to push the limits of your own control. Eris’s voice, rougher now with desire, breaks through the haze of your focus. “That’s it, just like that,” he praises, his grip on your hair loosening slightly to let you set the pace.

His hips start to move in time with your motions, a slow, steady thrust that matches the rhythm you’ve established. You relax your throat, taking him in further, feeling the head of his cock brush against the back of your throat. The sensation is overwhelming, yet you revel in it, the sheer intimacy of this act, the way you’re entirely at his mercy, yet completely in control of the pleasure you’re giving him.

Eris’s breathing grows more ragged, the tension coiling tighter within him. He watches you, his gaze heavy-lidded with lust, his usual composure slipping just enough for you to see how much he’s holding back. The knowledge that you’re the one drawing out these reactions from him makes you bolder, urging you to take him deeper, to drive him closer to the edge.

But just as you think he’s about to let go, he pulls back slightly, halting your movements. “Not yet,” he breathes, voice strained but firm. “I’m not done with you.” His words are a promise, and though you’re aching to continue, you obey, releasing him with a mix of anticipation and frustration.

Eris's hand slides from your hair to your cheek, his touch gentle now. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead in a brief, almost tender kiss before he straightens up. Without a word, he helps you to your feet, his hands steady and reassuring as they guide you toward the bed.

He lowers you onto the soft sheets with care. The roughness from before has melted away, replaced by something softer, almost reverent. As you settle onto the bed, Eris kneels at the edge, his hands gliding over your thighs, spreading them slowly.

He looks up at you, and there’s a tenderness in his eyes that makes your heart stutter. But just as quickly as it appeared, it fades away. He’s silent as he leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to the inside of your thigh, his lips lingering there for a moment before he continues, trailing soft, slow kisses up your leg. Each touch is feather light, as if he’s savoring every inch of you.

When he reaches your core, he pauses, his warm breath ghosting over your most sensitive spot. The anticipation is almost too much to bear, and you feel a shiver of desire run through you. But instead of diving in, Eris takes his time, pressing a soft kiss just above your clit, then another, slightly lower. His lips are gentle, tender.

Finally, his mouth closes around you, and he begins to work with a slow, deliberate pace, his tongue moving in languid strokes that send waves of pleasure through you. There’s no rush, no urgency—just a steady, sweet rhythm that makes you feel cherished in a way that takes your breath away.

His hands slide under your thighs, lifting them slightly as he brings you closer to his mouth, his tongue swirling in a way that’s both gentle and utterly consuming. Each movement is tender, every touch filled with a quiet, unspoken affection. He takes his time, coaxing soft moans from your lips with each delicate flick of his tongue, each gentle suckle.

The pleasure builds slowly, like a tide rising within you, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge, not from overwhelming intensity, but from the sheer tenderness of it all. Eris’s name escapes your lips in a soft, breathy moan, and he hums in response, the vibrations sending a fresh wave of sensation coursing through you.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t rush you to the peak, but lets you linger in the sweet, tender pleasure for as long as possible. It’s only when your body begins to tremble, when you’re right on the brink, that he finally picks up the pace, his tongue moving with a little more pressure, a little more focus, guiding you gently toward the release you’ve been craving.

And when you do fall, it’s into the softest, most blissful release, the kind that leaves you feeling weightless and utterly at peace. Eris stays with you through it all, his mouth never leaving you until the last tremor of pleasure has faded, and then he pulls back, pressing one final, lingering kiss to your trembling thigh. When he does pull away, it’s with a soft, almost reluctant sigh. He moves up your body with the same tender care, his hands trailing lightly over your skin, leaving a path of warmth in their wake. When his eyes meet yours, there’s a softness there.

Eris doesn’t rush. He leans down to kiss you, his lips brushing against yours in a way that’s more about comfort than urgency, more about reassurance than demand. His mouth moves slowly, languidly, tasting you as if he has all the time in the world.

Your hands find their way to his back, sliding up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer as your body arches instinctively toward his. There’s a quiet, almost reverent intensity in the way he touches you, his hands moving to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping against yours.

He shifts slightly, his hand sliding down to grip your thigh, hooking your leg around his waist as he settles between your thighs. You can feel the hard, insistent press of him against you, the heat of his skin melding with yours, and it sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

“Are you ready?” he murmurs against your lips, his voice soft.

You nod, breathless, your eyes meeting his with a trust that’s unspoken but absolute.

Eris presses a soft kiss to your forehead before lining himself up with your entrance, and with one slow, deliberate thrust, he fills you completely. The sensation is overwhelming, a perfect blend of pleasure and comfort, and you can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as he begins to move.

He sets a gentle pace, his hips rolling in slow, deep strokes that leave you gasping. There’s no rush, no frantic rhythm — just a steady, measured movement that builds a different kind of tension. Eris’s hands cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently over your cheeks as he watches you, his gaze never leaving yours. Each thrust is accompanied by a whispered word of encouragement, a soft murmur of praise that only heightens the intimacy between you.

Your bodies move together in perfect harmony, each roll of his hips sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you. The world narrows down to just the two of you, the softness of the sheets beneath you, the warmth of his body above you, and the gentle rhythm of your bodies coming together.

Eris leans down, his forehead pressing gently against yours, his breath warm and ragged as he moves inside you. “You feel so good,” he whispers, his voice husky, laced with a deep sense of awe. “So perfect.” His words send a shiver down your spine, the intensity of the moment wrapping around you both.

He shifts his angle slightly, his hips pressing deeper, and you gasp, your fingers digging into his shoulders. The new angle has him hitting just the right spot, each thrust making your toes curl with pleasure. “Eris…” you moan, the sound of his name on your lips seeming to spur him on.

“Right there?” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear as his hand trails down to grip your hip, holding you in place as he drives into you with slow, deliberate thrusts. “I want to hear you, baby. Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s so good,” you gasp, your voice trembling with the intensity of it all. “You’re perfect, Eris, just like that.”

His pace increases slightly, still measured but with a growing urgency that matches the heat building between you. Each thrust is powerful, and precise, and sends waves of pleasure rippling through your entire body. You can feel the sweat starting to slick your skin, your breaths coming out in short, desperate gasps as he brings you closer to the edge with every movement.

“Look at me,” he commands softly, his voice gentle yet firm, and when you do, you find his gaze locked on yours, his amber eyes dark with lust and something deeper, something that makes your heart stutter. “I want to see you when you come,” he adds, his voice dropping to a rough whisper, his thumb brushing tenderly across your cheek as his other hand slides between your bodies to find your clit.

The moment his fingers touch you, you’re lost. He circles your clit with slow, deliberate strokes that match the rhythm of his thrusts, his gaze never leaving yours, his lips curling into a knowing smile as he watches your reaction.

“Please…” The word slips from your lips before you can stop it, desperate for more, for everything he’s willing to give. Your hips lift to meet his thrusts, your body arching into his touch as the pressure builds inside you, coiling tighter and tighter until you feel like you’re about to snap.

“Please, what?” Eris’s voice is teasing, but there’s an edge of intensity there, a deep desire to hear you say it, to have you begging for him. “Tell me what you want, baby. I’ll give you anything.”

“Please, I want to come,” you gasp, your voice barely a whisper as the pleasure threatens to overwhelm you. “I need it, Eris, please.”

His eyes darken with satisfaction, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, teasing kiss as he picks up the pace, his fingers moving faster against your clit. “Then come for me,” he whispers against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

That’s all it takes. The combination of his words, his touch, and the deep, steady thrusts of his cock send you spiraling over the edge, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your body clenches around him, your back arching off the bed as you cry out his name, the pleasure so intense it’s almost too much to bear.

Eris doesn’t let up, driving you through the waves of your orgasm with steady, unrelenting thrusts, his fingers never leaving your clit until you’re trembling beneath him, completely spent. He watches you the entire time, his gaze heated and possessive, a soft groan escaping his lips as he feels you come undone around him.

As your orgasm begins to subside, he leans down, capturing your lips in a deep, possessive kiss, his hips still moving with a slow, deliberate rhythm. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough and breathless. “So fucking perfect.”

You’re barely able to respond, your body still trembling from the aftershocks of your orgasm, but you manage to whisper his name, your hands gripping his shoulders as he continues to move inside you, his thrusts becoming more erratic, more urgent.

Eris doesn’t hesitate, sensing the way your body melts beneath him, still trembling from the intensity of your orgasm. With a smooth, practiced motion, he flips the two of you over, his hands guiding you to straddle his waist. Your limbs feel like jelly, weak and trembling, but he shushes you softly, his hands firm on your hips.

“It’s okay, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a soothing balm as he brushes your hair away from your face. “Just lay on me. I’ve got you. Let me take care of you.”

He pulls you down gently, your chest pressed against his as your head rests on his shoulder. His hands slide up and down your back, grounding you, before they settle on your hips again, holding you steady. You barely have time to catch your breath before he starts moving, his hips thrusting upward with powerful, controlled strokes.

The sensation is overwhelming as he fills you completely, the force of his thrusts sending waves of pleasure radiating through your body. You can feel every inch of him, the heat of his skin against yours, the strength of his body beneath you, and the way his cock drives up into you with unrelenting intensity.

“Eris…” you moan, your voice muffled against his neck as your fingers dig into his shoulders, holding on for dear life as he takes control.

“Shh, just feel me,” he whispers, his breath hot against your ear. His hands tighten on your hips, guiding your movements as he continues to thrust up into you, each stroke hitting deeper, harder. “Let me make you feel good.”

Your body responds instinctively, your hips moving in time with his as he drives into you over and over again. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, mingling with your gasps and his low groans, the intensity of it all threatening to unravel you once again.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t let up, his pace relentless as he chases your pleasure. His hands roam your body, one sliding up to cradle the back of your head, pressing your face against his neck, while the other grips your waist, pulling you down onto him with every thrust.

“God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice rough with need. “So tight, so perfect. You’re gonna make me come, baby. Just like that.”

The words send a fresh wave of heat through you, your body clenching around him as you feel yourself spiraling toward another climax. The intensity of his thrusts, the way he holds you so close, the deep, reverent way he whispers your name — it’s all too much.

“Eris, I’m…” you start, but the words dissolve into a moan as he slams up into you with a particularly hard thrust, your vision going white as another orgasm crashes over you, more intense than the last.

“Oh, you giving me another one, sweetheart?” he growls as he feels you tighten around him. “Let me feel you.”

Your body convulses in his arms as you shatter, the pleasure ripping through you with a force that leaves you breathless. Eris’s grip on you tightens, his own release just seconds behind yours as he thrusts up into you one last time, pulling out as he comes with a low, guttural groan, his cum spilling over your ass in hot, erratic bursts.

He holds you there, both of you trembling, your bodies entwined as you come down from the high together. His hands are gentle now, soothing as they trace patterns on your skin, his breath hot and ragged against your ear.

After the intensity of your release subsides, Eris’s touch becomes gentle and soothing. He cradles you in his arms, his fingers brushing tenderly over your back and sides as he presses soft kisses to your forehead.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice low and filled with concern. “You did so well, you know that?”

You nod, your body still shivering slightly from the aftershocks, but a soft smile plays on your lips. “I’m okay,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath.

Eris gives you a reassuring smile, his hands moving soothingly up and down your back. “Good,” he murmurs, his tone tender. “I’m here. Just relax, let me take care of you.”

He carefully disentangles himself from you, his movements slow to avoid startling you. As he rises from the bed, he gently helps you shift so that you’re on your stomach, your hips slightly elevated. “Just a second,” he says softly.

Eris heads to a nearby cupboard, opening it to reveal a small, built-in towel warmer. He retrieves a warm, damp towel from inside, the comforting heat emanating from it as he brings it back to you.

He returns to the bed and carefully unfolds the towel, its warmth a welcome sensation. “I’m going to clean you up now, okay?” he asks gently but doesn’t wait for an answer as he begins to dab at your skin. The warmth of the towel is soothing, easing any lingering tension.

His hands are gentle as he tends to you. “You’re doing great,” he murmurs, his voice soft. “Just wanted to make sure you’re all clean and comfortable.”

Once he’s finished, he places the damp towel aside and returns to your side, pulling the comforter over you both. He settles next to you, pulling you close and pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head. You snuggle into his embrace, feeling the warmth and safety of his presence. His arms are steady and reassuring around you, and his murmurs of affection make you feel cherished and adored.

You finally find your voice, looking up at him with a tired but content smile. “That was incredible. I didn’t expect to feel so…” So good? So much? So intimate?

Eris grins, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “I’m glad you enjoyed it.”

You snuggle closer, your head resting against his chest. “I feel like I’m floating. In a good way.” You mentally kick yourself — of course, it was in a good way. Who says floating in a bad way?

Eris wraps his arms around you a little tighter. “You deserve to feel this good. Just know I’m always here for you, not just for things like this, for whatever. Whatever you need, (y/n).”

You sink deeper into Eris’s embrace, the warmth of his body seeping into your own. The comforting weight of his arms and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest lull you into a state of serene contentment. The intensity of the earlier moments fades into a gentle afterglow.

As you relax, your thoughts begin to wander, drifting back to the complexities of your life outside this moment. Cassian's name surfaces in your mind, but it's quickly followed by the image of him with Elain. The idea of them together interrupts your peace. It should sting, but somehow, it doesn’t.

Instead, the memory of Cassian and Elain feels distant, almost abstract, overshadowed. You'll deal with it another time.

You shift slightly, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat. The world outside, with its complications and unresolved emotions, feels like it’s receding. In this moment, the only thing that matters is the warmth between you, the sense of being cared for, and the gentle hum of satisfaction that lingers from your shared intimacy.

Eris’s soft breathing and the comforting pressure of his touch anchor you, and you let yourself drift in the quiet aftermath, content that you’ve found a moment of peace and connection that you can hold onto.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

@blessthepizzaman @celear @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @girl-math-aint-mathing @halo-hanging @julesvanslutta @lilah-asteria @meeperthejeeper @paleidiot @panther-girl-124 @secretlyhers @starlightazriel @scarsandallaz @uncxmfxrtablex @xxemmarldxx

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: dark! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: yandere behavior, obsession, stalking, gaslighting, drugging, kidnapping. This is only fiction! Never tolerate creepy behavior

A/n: so this has been sitting in my drafts for a while so I decided to finish it as a part of writing event. I’m so proud of this one, like omg, look at me being a writer😆

Your head hurt. That was the first thing you registered as you started to slowly regain consciousness. Your face scrunched up in a grimace of pain as you let out a soft groan, your throat sore, only increasing your discomfort.

You tried to raise your hands to rub on your eyes in attempt to soothe the stinginess - point word - tried. You very soon found that your movements had been restricted by something that felt very much like rope. And not only your hands - your legs were bound tightly together at your knees and ankles, not allowing you to move.

- You’re awake now? - soft voice droned on, making you tense up impossibly more. The most terrifying thing was that you knew exactly who this voice belonged to.

You squinted into direction from which the sound came, your vision still blurry and hazy from the drug. Thankfully, the room was dark, small lamp on the bedside table was the only source of soft yellow light. You could only perceive a bulky figure sitting on a chair not too far from you, piercing blue eyes gazed at you unblinking.

- König..? What’s going on? - you asked, your voice was hoarse and weak from long lack of usage.

Suddenly, memories flashed before your eyes; it was late evening - about 11 pm - as you were walking towards convenience store not so far from your apartment.

You had been in a state of constant desolation lately - days were bleak and boring, blurring into one with their unchanging routine, sending you in deeper state of depression.

Breakup with your boyfriend took a toll on you. You loved König, you really did. Considered spending your life with him, even. But the longer your relationship lasted, the more of real him you saw - controlling, obsessive, manipulative.

It all started out small - constant checking in, questions about your whereabouts and your company, him following accompanying you wherever possible. Surely, it restricted your freedom, but König didn’t mean anything bad! He was just worried for you, concerned about your safety! Is that so bad?

So you let it slip. You overlooked his more controlling tendencies, agreed to giving him passwords to all your social media even, so König could make sure that “no freaks were texting you”. It unnerved you, but he didn’t mean anything bad, did he? He was just being a good caring boyfriend!

And it was like an avalanche. Constant calls and messages, controlling what you were wearing, unwillingness to leave you alone even for a few minutes - that and many other things made a list of what your boyfriend did, only adding to your anxiety. But you tolerated it all, because you loved him. Once, digging through your phone you found something that looked very much like a tracking app. You were outraged. But when you asked König about it - rather aggressively - he just blinked at you with wide innocent blue eyes, saying that maybe you installed it on accident? You know all these bots nowadays, you can never be safe online now. But you know that he would never do something like that, right? How could you even think of something like that?! König was genuinely offended, and you naturally hastened to apologize for your unwise accusations, trying to make it up to him. Deleting this app seemed to be impossible, though, no matter how many times you tried.

Last drop was, however, when König nearly blew out your best friend’s front door, threatening them to keep away from you. “This bitch is putting some fucked up ideas about me into your head” - was his reasoning. And that was it - hell was set free. You had an ugly shouting marathon for hours to no end, with lots of tears and profanities, ending up with a harsh breakup and you blocking König everywhere, cutting him off completely.

And since then you haven’t spoken a word to him. Of course, he came to your apartment countless times, sent numerous gifts and bouquets of your favorite flowers, practically begging for forgiveness. But you knew better than that - it happened before, and even if you forgave him this time, in a few months time everything would be just as it was before.

At present, you were walking down a sidewalk, asphalt damp under your shoes from recent rain. You needed to get some groceries, since your fridge was just as empty as your stomach; and this late of an hour promised as little people around as possible, saving you from unfavorable company of men.

Just as you rounded a corner - a pair of huge strong arms - obviously male - seized your sensibly smaller body; a weird-smelling cloth was pressed tightly over your mouth and nose. In your panicked state you tried to fight back, not registering your own breathing, inhaling lungfuls of drug. Darkness filled your vision rapidly as dizziness overcame all your senses. You felt consciousness quickly slipping away from you, neon lights of convenience store shone brightly before your eyes still.

Panic seized your throat and it was becoming harder to breathe - you tugged and pulled on rough ropes around your limbs, trying to either snap them or slip out of tight confines, thrashing around the mattress relentlessly. König didn’t do anything, just watched you silently with his icy orbs from his spot, not exactly amused nor impressed by your behavior. Very soon fatigue took over your already exhausted body, you lay motionless once again, panting heavily as you glared at König’s dark form, vision still unfocused from the drug.

- Drop that. I made sure knots are tight, - he said coldly, continuing to observe you with a sharp stare of a hawk.

You just glared silently, trying to catch your breath. Your body felt heavy - extremely so, as if every limb was made out of lead and not flesh and bone; moving as much as one finger seemed harder than anything and you wondered how you managed to thrash around in the first place. Your head was aching irritably, not allowing you to think clearly - it had to be the side effect of whatever that was König made you inhale previously.

- König, do you realize what you did? - you managed to choke out, panic crashing over you in waves as realization of your current situation finally hit you. Hot tears streamed down your face as you tried to breathe evenly, but it did little to calm you down.

König just leaned in, cupping the side of your face with one of his huge hands, his thumb swiped under your eye, wiping salty tears away with calloused fingertip. You closed your eyes, averting your face from his touch. And oh, he didn’t like it.

König gripped bottom part of your face, force of his grip squeezed your cheeks together as he turned your head forcibly towards himself, making you squeal quietly as you faced him.

- You tried to leave me. And you are very dear to me. I can’t let this happen, - König explained, his voice calm, alarmingly calm. His scarred lips were pressed into a thin pale line, giving a little clue of his rage.

It was another side of him, completely different from what you used to see - a calm, ruthless and collected one; one that you could only imagine, based off some rumors you’ve heard about him and small cracks in his friendly mask König was too careless to hide from you during your relationship. You got glimpses of it a few times - when some drunk dude tried to hit on you when you and König were in the bar together, or when you mentioned how nice one of your male coworkers was. You always made one brutal mistake of brushing it all off, blaming it on König’s tiredness or fierce personality. And that’s where it led you.

- So what are you gonna do now? Keep me here forever? - you tried to scoff, but your trembling voice was way too weak to do so.

König cocked his eyebrow at your brave words, ghost of a smile played on his pursed lips. He shrugged lightly, grip of his fingers on your cheeks eased as he caressed them endearingly with rough fingertips, tickling you slightly.

- If that’s what it takes to keep you with me - then yes, - he shrugged slightly, propping his chin on his free hand, not a single emotion could be deciphered in his voice. These words made your blood turn cold.

He heaved a deep sigh at your frightened expression and trembling body, letting go of your face and reclining into his chair.

- Schatzi, you know I hate this just as much as you do. You think I’m enjoying this? - he asked, his tone was somehow sad and exhausted. But yes, you indeed thought, knew he enjoyed this. You kept silent, choking on your silent sobs, now being extremely aware of thick ropes digging painfully into your soft skin. Panic attack was full on taking over you, suffocating you with numerous sobs, body tensing and shaking incessantly, tears blurring your thus poor vision.

- Now, this all may end if you stop being a little bitch and start acting like an actual adult. We didn’t finish our conversation that last time, and you blocking me everywhere doesn’t make things any easier, - König said, his ice-blue eyes boring holes in your head. But you couldn’t comprehend the meaning behind his words, your brain short-circuited with fear and panic, turning you into a weeping shaking mess.

König heaved another sigh. He got up from his chair, taking a few steps towards your bed and dropping to his knees in front of it, so that his head was right against yours. His hand once again came to caress the side of your face affectionately, tangling into your messy hair and massaging your scalp, cooing soothingly at you.

- I know baby, I know. You need to rest. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe. And then, once you’re strong and rested, we’ll talk again. And we’ll sort everything out and be happy again, just like we used to be, hmm? - König murmured softly as he always did to calm you down during hard times. But it only made you weep harder.

König pressed his lips against your cold forehead, leaving a chaste kiss as he inhaled lungfuls of your scent. He then nuzzled his forehead against yours, mumbling quietly:

- You can’t imagine how much I missed you. How could you do this to me? Hurt me so much even though I only want the best for you?

He peppered your face with small kisses, whispering small nothings and caressing your shuddering back. This made you feel nauseous. Your consciousness started to slip away again, your vision darkening rapidly. And just before blacking out, you heard König’s voice, one you loved so dearly once, utter:

- You’re mine, always will be. I’ll make sure of that.

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Give writers some love, we live off feedback<3

[thatfanficstuff]

Unexpected - Twilight/TVD crossover

Pairing: Mikaelsons x Reader

a/n: In this AU the Originals are far older than 1000 years. The cold ones are the result of a failed attempt by Esther to fix her 'mistake'. The Mikaelsons are the ultimate vampire authority but generally leave the cold ones to govern themselves.

“You don’t understand. You’ll never understand,” your cousin Bella yelled before storming out of the house, slamming the door behind her.

You clenched your teeth in irritation and sighed. You were frustrated with your baby cousin to say the least. She was dramatic and childish and aggravating. Some allowances could be made due to her age, but most of her bad behavior you laid at your aunt’s feet.

Renee had always spoiled Bella. Likely part of it was because Renee was notoriously flighty and Bella had to do more than her fair share of caretaking which made her mother feel guilty. Whatever the reason, it hadn’t done the girl any favors.

Your uncle Charlie, who had always been your favorite member of the family, had begged you to visit after Bella’s asshole ex left her and she’d sunk into a severe depression. One that was way out of proportion, complete with screaming nightmares and catatonic behavior. Obviously the relationship was not good for her if that was her response to a breakup. Cry, eat some ice cream and get your shit together.

And now Bella was starting to exhibit that same obsessive behavior with one of the boys down at the reservation. Charlie didn’t share your concerns, just happy her attention was on anyone other than Edward. You bringing it to her attention caused the argument you’d just had. Fuck it. You were so ready to go home.

The house was clean and you’d nearly finished the laundry by the time a knock at the door caught your attention. You swung it open to find an unfamiliar brunette with a pixie cut on the doorstep. She was cute. Dead, but cute. What the hell was a cold one doing on Charlie’s doorstep?

You narrowed your gaze as you looked her over. “Can I help you?”

Her brow furrowed. “Yes, I—I’m sorry, who are you?”

“I’m Charlie’s niece, who are you?”

“I’m Alice. I’m a friend of Bella’s.”

You leaned against the doorframe and crossed your arms over your chest. “Okay, Alice, Bella’s not here at the moment.”

“Charlie?” She tried to peer past you into the house.

“He’s helping his best friend’s wife plan his funeral. Which is where Bella should be but she went cliff diving instead.” That was more information than the vampire in front of you needed but you were still pissed at your cousin.

The pixie’s eyes went wide as she took a step back. “Cliff diving? Like for fun?”

“So I’ve been told.” You were quickly growing bored of this conversation.

She shook her head. “But I thought…” She trailed off. “Can I come in and wait for her? It’s important.”

You sighed and stepped away from the door. “Why the hell not? She shouldn’t be too much longer.”

And in fact, the girl in question ran into the house not more than ten minutes later. You observed quietly as she reunited with what you now gathered was her ex-boyfriend’s sister. If you would have known that you would have kicked her ass off the property instead of inviting her in. Leave it to your idiot cousin to date a cold one while she was still human. They had notoriously poor self-control.

You kept an ear on the conversation while the two of them talked. Apparently the pixie was something of a seer and thought Bella was committing suicide. Several minutes passed before Jacob Black walked in the house without knocking. You scowled at him as he walked past you to look in the living room where the girls were talking.

Seriously? You knew he was a dog but did he need to have the manners of one? The phone rang, pulling you from your thoughts. Before you could answer, Jake grabbed it. “Yeah? No, he’s not here. He’s planning a funeral.” And he hung up the phone.

“Who was that? Was that Edward? Why didn’t you let me talk to him?” Bella yelled as she stomped into the room.

“He didn’t ask for you,” the wolf snarked.

That was it. You were completely done with your cousin and all of her friends. You’d stay until after Harry’s funeral strictly for Charlie’s benefit and then you were heading home. A gasp drew your attention to the pixie like vampire.

“What? What is it?” Bella suddenly sounded far more worried than she had a moment ago.

“It’s Edward. He thinks you’re dead. He’s going to the Volturi and asking them to kill him.”

You rolled your eyes. For fuck’s sake. He was as dramatic as your cousin. Maybe they deserved each other after all.

“We have to go. I have to save him,” Bella said as she moved toward the door.

You blocked her way. “Really, Bella? Charlie just lost his best friend and now you’re going to take off after a boy that doesn’t give a shit about you instead of being here for your father?”

Your cousin’s lip lifted in a sneer as she pushed against your chest. You held your ground and glared at her.

“You don’t know anything. He left to save me, to protect me. He thinks he’s not good enough for me.”

“He’s not.” Jacob smirked while Alice sent you a nasty look. You lifted a brow and ran your eyes over the boy who stupidly thought he’d won something with your words. “Neither are you, furball.”

“Look,” Bella stated, reclaiming your attention. “I’m going to Italy whether you like it or not. Tell Charlie I’m sorry.”

You sighed. “Italy? Do you even have a passport?”

She nodded once. “Mom insisted.”

Fucking Renee. “Then I’m going with you. Write your dad a note.”

Bella shook her head. “That’s not a good idea. You should stay here.”

Alice laid a hand on your cousin’s arm. “No, Bella. I think it’s a great idea.”

You eyed the cold one wondering what plot she was concocting. Your fingers flew over the screen of your phone sending multiple texts as you followed the girls to the car.

***

As it turned out, you’d arrived just in time to stop Edward from revealing himself in the middle of the town square. Because he thought he’d be justified in putting his entire race at risk to get what he wanted. Asshole.

You leaned against the wall, responding to another text as you watched the interaction between the Volturi guards and the Cullens. You honestly didn’t care much about their politicking as long as your cousin remained alive-ish. You didn’t want Charlie heartbroken over the loss of his only child.

When you glanced up again, Demetri’s gaze met yours. He gave a little smirk and lifted a brow in question. You’d met him once and the two of you had gotten along famously. The compulsion to forget you was lifted now that he was once again in your presence. You shrugged and sent him a little wave as you slid your phone into your pocket.

Edward watched the exchange with narrowed eyes. “Listen, she doesn’t know anything about this. She just came along with Bella. You should let them both go.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Demetri said as he looked you over. “What do you say, bellisima? Do you know anything?”

“I know about a great many things,” you answered.

“See? She knows things.”

“They come with us. Both of them,” Jane stated.

Edward grabbed your upper arm in a bruising grip and jerked you into his side. “Don’t be stupid,” he hissed.

“No. That’s your job and if you don’t release me immediately, I’m going to tear your arm off and beat you with it while you sparkle in the sun.”

His grip loosened in shock and you pulled away. “See? I do know things.”

Demetri laughed as he steered you to follow the others.

You grinned. “This one likes me, Eddie. Don’t be so grumpy.”

“You shouldn’t be happy they like you,” Bella snapped. “They’re evil.”

You blinked at the back of her head. “You’re an idiot.” Personal feelings aside, why the hell was she announcing her opinions about the Volturi?

When you arrived at the throne room, Demetri gestured for you to stand to the side near the back. You gave him a nod and watched the proceedings in silence, simply taking everything in unless you needed to intervene.

After reading the Cullens and attempting to read Bella, Aro Volturi turned his attention to you. He hadn’t missed your interaction with one of his elite guards and, other than their dislike, he’d been able to get little from the Cullens about you. “And who might you be, my dear?” he asked with a spark of interest shining in his eyes.

He held out a hand fully expecting you to take it, when your phone dinged with an incoming text. You put up a finger telling him to wait a moment while you pulled it out to respond. Aro blinked in disbelief as the other two kings shifted on their thrones in annoyance.

“Are we boring you, human?” Caius asked.

You glanced at him as your phone rang. You answered without looking at the screen and passed it to Aro. “It’s for you.”

The room was quiet save for some sounds of agreement from the raven haired king and a final “I understand,” before he ended the call and handed your phone back to you. He smiled before turning back to your cousin and the Cullens as if nothing had happened. “Now, what to do with young Bella and more importantly the Cullens for violating our most sacred laws.”

Caius’ gaze shifted between you and Aro. “You already know what you’re going to do. Get on with it.”

“I assure you that we had no intention of violating any laws. Bella will be one of us. I’ll change her myself,” Alice said holding out a hand.

You huffed a laugh. “He has no intention of changing her. The pixie might but not soulless here.”

Bella spun to face you, her hands fisted at her sides. “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re my cousin. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“Bella, shut up.” Ignoring Bella’s offended expression, you held your hand out for Aro. “See for yourself.” Leaving your cousin alone in the woods with all her knowledge intact while they took off with no intention to return didn’t speak well for any of the Cullens.

Aro gently took your hand in his and read the memories you allowed him access to. Before he even had a chance to release you, the doors to the throne room flew open. A blur flashed across the room until it came to a stop between you and the Volturi king.

Your view was suddenly full of the back of a finely tailored suit. “You dare?” came the familiar baritone and you smiled at being in his presence again regardless of the circumstances.

You placed a hand on Elijah and he turned to look at you. “I asked him to.”

The look your mate leveled on you was entirely unimpressed. You knew better than to invite anyone into your brain without good reason.

“I assure you, I meant no harm,” Aro said. “I already spoke with Niklaus.”

Elijah hummed in thought as he looked from you to the king. Finally he looked past him to the other two, giving them a nod in greeting. “A pleasure, as always.”

“Elijah,” Marcus returned with a nod. “I’m afraid you have us at a loss. Aro was the only one to speak with your brother.”

“Ah,” the Original said in understanding. He stepped aside and placed his hand on your back to pull you to stand beside him. “In that case, allow me to introduce my mate.”

A slight widening of the eyes was the only indication of the kings’ surprise.

Apparently annoyed at having been forgotten, Edward spoke up. “I’m sorry, but can someone fill us in? The thoughts are too chaotic to follow and I can’t read either of them at all.”

“You’re a rude thing, aren’t you?” you said. “Quit digging in people’s brains without their permission.”

“It’s not like I can control it.”

“Liar.”

Elijah glanced at you. “I take it this is the boy that left your cousin in the woods to be eaten by wolves?”

You nod in answer. “Edward Cullen and his sister Alice.”

Elijah shifted his attention in surprise. “Cullen? I know Carlisle though it’s been a while. Is Jasper still with your coven?”

“How do you know Jazzy?” Alice asked.

“How remiss of me,” Aro interjected. “Allow me to introduce Elijah Mikaelson.”

Edward’s eyes snapped to you and his sister looked a little sick. “You’re mated to a Mikaelson?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Eddie boy. I’m mated to all of them.”

Aro giggled. “Which means she’s the most protected and deadliest woman on the planet. And she’s rather displeased with you, dear Edward.”

Bella scoffed. “Her? As if. She’s nobody. Always has been. Always will be.”

Edward pulled her back into his chest. “Shut up, Bella.”

When she started to protest, he covered her mouth with his hand. His gaze shifted between you and your mate. “I assure you, I was only doing what I thought best for Bella. I will always do what’s best for Bella.”

“And you think that’s you?” Elijah asked.

Edward shook his head. “No, but it seems I don’t have much of a choice.”

You looked at Aro. The Volturi were in charge of the cold ones. It had been that way for thousands of years. Your mates didn’t get involved unless they were asked. “I don’t like him, but he has a point. She graduates in May.”

Aro nodded slowly. “Very well. We expect her to be turned within a week of her graduation. Until then you may go.” He waved them away, no longer interested in the Cullens and their pet.

“Oh, Cullens,” Caius called, stopping them at the door. “Should you fail, it won’t be us you answer to.”

Edward shot another glance in your direction before giving a nod and dragging Bella through the doors, his hand still firmly covering her lips.

[meowsforyujin]

Clubbing- Han

Han x fem bodied reader

(Warnings- !!smut!! , choking, drinking, oral, fingering, unprotected sex)

!not proofread, I’m lazy

Clubbing wasn’t something out of the ordinary in your friend group. What WAS out of the ordinary was that literally everyone had found a “ride” home but you and freaking han jisung. Jisung was your best friend’s brother, aka pain in your ass. You did not like him AT ALL. You didn’t like his gorgeous figure, his perfect slim waist, his gummy smile…

Okay just because you think someone's good looking doesn't mean you like them. 

Jisung was annoying, for starters. He’s always messing with you, and FLIRTING with you. He’s always making it seem like you have a crush on him, and it pisses you off. 

“Me? Have a crush on YOU? You wish” you’d say.

“Whatever you say princess.”

What was really blood boiling was that your best friend didn't seem to care one bit. If your brother was flirting with her, you’d kick him in the nuts. But not her, she either laughed or ignored it. 

Fast forward to present, here you are sitting lonely at the bar with no one to take you home, since everyone had luck tonight BUT you. 

“Why are you so lonely at a club, it’s depressing.” you hear that stupid fucking voice that makes your heart beat oh so slightly faster

“No reason that's your business asshole.” you snap your head around. 

“Is someone grumpy that they aren't getting laid?” He asks smugly, sitting down next to you. 

“I think you're teasing me because you're upset YOU'RE not getting laid” you say, annoyance visible in your tone. 

“I have a better chance than you.” he stuck his tongue out like a child  

The bartender handed you your drink and you spaced out, eyes on the dance floor. You loved dancing. Han also knew you loved dancing because he loved watching you dance. He wasn’t ever one to be in denial, unlike you. 

“Well since it's just us less, I suppose we have no choice but to dance together.” 

You come back to your senses and look back at him, making a disgusted facial expression before shaking your head. 

“Come on, it's your favorite song, you want to dance so bad I know it.” He says holding out his hand. 

You opened your mouth to protest, but gave up and hesitantly took his hand. It was your favorite song, though you don’t remember telling anyone. 

There isn’t anything in the world that could make Jisung regret asking you to dance, he’s sure. You’re the most pretty thing he’s ever seen. He doesn't like to watch you dance because you're good at it, no. You’re exceptionally bad at it. It’s absolutely adorable. 

You hate to admit, but this is one of the best times you’ve had on the dance floor. You don’t know why, it’s not really any different from dancing with your other friends. Maybe you just like watching him smile and laugh more than the others. 

Everything was going pretty wholesome until a few drinks in the song changed to a more slow, sexual song. But it’s fine right? Jisung is just a friend, it doesn’t mean anything when you're dancing with your back pressed against him, slightly grinding against him. But youre a little tipsy, and so is he, and to be quite honest neither of you see each other as a friend. 

But you’re quickly sober when you feel a bulge press against you, you're breath hitching. 

“Jisung?”

“Hm?” he replies, head still on your shoulder.

“Are you hard right now?” 

He just hums and plants wet kisses on your neck. 

“HAN JISUNG” You turn around, fully intending to scold him until you see his gaze.  

“What.”

He’s staring at you, hands still on your hips. His eyes half lidded, lips parted, hair messy, eyes absolutely filled with lust. You feel small under his gaze so you move your attention away from his eyes, and it’s just now you're noticing the way he's dressed. He’s wearing a button up that frames his biceps so well it's insane, unbuttoned a bit to where you can see the slight outline of his pec muscles

Your thoughts are brutally interrupted when you feel his hand pull up your chin to met his eyes. 

“What.” he repeats himself. 

“I um, your, uh, um” You forgot how to speak English all of a sudden. 

“Are you shy baby?”

It was like you were hypnotized by him, because instead of scolding him you simply nodded. And he did nothing. He just stared. But you wanted him to do something, anything. 

“Jisung, please.” You're voice came out more of a whimper than you intended. 

“Please what princess?”

You faulted for a moment, not knowing exactly how to put into words what you wanted.

“Can you, can you atleast just kiss me?” You breathed. 

And he didn't waste any time fulfilling your wish, almost crashing his lips onto yours. It felt like he has been waiting to do that for forever (he has). The kiss was sloppy and heated, tongues tracing each others mouth, teeth gnashing together every now and then. The heat in between your legs was beginning to become unbearable. 

“Please, can we get out of here?” you pulled away looking at him with pleading eyes. 

When he got to his car, he truly didn't expect you to be this impatient. His plan was to drive back to his apartment before resuming anything, but CLEARLY you had other plans. 

Your hips on either side of him, grinding softly while attacking the skin on his neck. 

Jisung couldn't help the moans that escaped him, and he didn't want to either. 

“Princess, we can't do this here, l, let's just get home first hm?” He huffed, pulling your hair behind your ear. 

“Please just let me do something before we stop.” You whined, the wait was too long already. 

He sighed and nodded, not knowing what to expect.

You pushing the driver's seat back harshly was more attractive than it should've been. You got down off the seat, onto the ground of the car. Your hands crept up to his zipper while he looked at you with great anticipation. You palm his bulge slightly, pulling a beautiful whine out of him, before taking out his member completely. You try, you really try to hold the gasp in when you see his size. You couldn't help yourself, you had to get your hands on it. 

You run your fingers up and down his member, causing ticklish yet still pleasurable sensations. Jisung moaned, bucking his hips up slightly, trying to show you that he needed more. You hum before licking a long stripe up his dick, earning a long whine from him. You circled his tip, collecting the bits of precum leaking from it. Without wasting any second you take him in, his tip hitting that back of your through as tears prick the corner of your eyes, threatening to fall. You began bobbing up and down, leaving jisung a moaning mess. His hips buck up as he hissed, trying to hold himself back. You pull off, unsatisfied. 

“Don’t do that, don’t hold back.” You watch his beautiful face turn a deep red as he shyly nodded. 

You went back down, this time sucking at his tip on the way up, which seemed to be his limit. His hands found their way to your hair, holding you in place before thrusting into your mouth. He only got in a few thrusts before his hips stilled, cock twitching as he came. You swallowed every bit while watching his gaze on you, chest falling up and down heavily. 

The drive home felt agonizingly slow. As soon as the car stopped, you all but ran to the front door, eager to get in jisungs pants again. The moment the door opened you were pinned to the wall, jisung kicking the door closed behind him. Your lips reattached after what felt like forever, and he took this opportunity to pin your wrists to the wall above you. You let out a satisfactory moan when he did so, causing him to grow harder and harder in his pants. He moved from your lips to your neck, leaving open mouth kisses. The gentleness was quickly replaced with his teeth slightly sinking into your skin,  sucking harshly. You enjoyed it though, your whimpered sure as hell confirmed that. 

Jisung reached under your thighs, pulling slightly signaling you to jump. And you did, wrapping your thighs around his waist, and kissing him once again. He set you down on the kitchen counter, your legs still wrapped firmly around his waist, trying to pull him impossible closer. His hands reach under your shirt, tugging slightly. You pull away from the kiss, granting him access to take off your shit. He practically lunged towards your chest, leaving wet kisses along your cleavage. Your breath hitched as you felt his hands going up your skirt, feeling your heat. 

“So wet baby, for me?” He flashed you that stupid cocky smile of his.

“Just do something about it sung, please?”  You looked up at him with pleading eyes.

The nickname definitely hit a soft spot, as he's never heard you call him that. He couldn’t say he didn’t like it though. 

He bent down, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. You watched his strong hands reach up your thighs, rolling your skirt back. He attached his lips to your clothed clit, causing a desirable cry from you. You whines at the lost contact when he pulled away, removing your underwear and then getting back into the same position. 

You whined feeling his warm tongue lick up your pussy. He starts painfully slow, kitty licking every inch of you, just wanting to taste every spot. While this was nice, it wasn't any of the right movements to make you cum. And you wanted to cum, so bad. All of a sudden it was as if he read your mind. His lips curled around your clit, sucking gently as he pushed a finger into you. You let out a cry of satisfaction, begging him to keep going. He pumped his finger in and out of you while sucking your clit, and soon one finger became two. Soon after the second finger was added, you were cumming all over his face with a cry of his name. 

Jisung cleaned you up with his tongue, not wanting to miss a single drop until you whined from the overstimulation. He gives you a quick peck of the lips before taking you into his arms, carrying you to the bedroom. 

He sets you down on the bed and then turns around, confusing you. 

“Where are you going?”

He turns back at you with a soft smile, “Just going to get stuff to clean you up, and then clothes for you to sleep in.”

You frowned, “Who said we're done?”

“Oh, I um, thought maybe you were tired..I didn't want to pressure you.” why was he so sweet? It was bothering you.

“No sung, im not tired, want you to fuck me.” 

He blinks a couple of times, breath caught in his throat, before hurrying over to the bed toppling over you. Before you could laugh at him, he's already kissing you. Both of your clothes are off in seconds, thrown somewhere unimportant. His eyes were glued on your naked figure, with an unreadable expression. You turned your head away nervously, crossing your arms over you. 

You yelped when he harshly removed your arms and pinned them up above you. 

“You’re so, so beautiful. So much fucking better than I imagined.”

You felt your face burning at the last comment “What do you mean imagined sung?”, you chuckled softly, but really you wanted to know. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this, to make you mine.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling his crotch down to meet yours. 

“I’m not yours yet, you better hurry up”

He let out a “Tch” sound before entering you without warning, filling you up so perfectly you wanted to never be empty again. You felt every inch of him against your walls, tip so sweetly brushed against the spot you loved most. 

“Fuuuck sung please move” you cried, rutting up your hips trying to get some friction against your g spot. 

“Mmm only if you say your mine.” 

“Shit sung, okay okay I’m yours.”

“Again.”

“I’m yours.”

“Again.”

You rolled your eyes, “Han Jisung, I’m yours and only yours.”

And with that he began thrashing his hips into you, hitting your spot everytime. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping and both your moans. He pulls your legs back around his waist, trying to hit your spot better, and holy shit he succeeded. You were so so so close, and he was too, you could feel his dick twitching inside you. 

“Sung, im so close please” you begged, tears falling from your eyes.

“You’re so fucking good for me” he grunts, thrusting faster.

“Please choke me” You whined

He was hesitant at first but shortly complied, wrapping his fingers around your throat giving it a light squeeze. All of a sudden, time stopped. All on your mind was bliss as your walls clamped down onto him, pulling a high pitched moan from him while he came too. 

After you both came down from your high, jisung picked you up and took you to the bathroom. He set you down on the sink while he ran the bathtub. You simply just watched him, soaking in his beauty. 

For a good solid 10 minutes, you both were silent, just sitting, feeling each other's warmth. Eventually Jisung picked up a bottle of soap and began to clean you. 

“I can do things by myself jisung.” You glared at him

“Mmm but I want to help you, love. And also I prefer my new nickname “sung” now.”

You scoffed but let him continue his task, picking up the bottle of soap out of mere curiosity. 

“Vanilla?” You laughed “Your soap is vanilla scented?”

“I like vanilla, what’s wrong with that?” he pouted.

“Nothing.” You whispered, giving him a soft kiss. 

“So, for the record, you did have a crush on me.”

“HAN JISUNG!!”

[signanothername]

Heyo! I love your art so much, as well as your mean girl Nightmare(I've halfway been imagining him with a *little* Regina George every time I've read that on this blog, no apologies for it) I was wondering, how do you think he'd react if Dream, Killer, just somebody who knew of his past just says; "You're just like them. The villagers.". Or ANY variation of that? Just the thought of him being the same as his past abusers, tormenting someone he dislikes, for what, because what have they truly done to deserve it? The idea of becoming the same of those who have hurt him, how would he react to that? I feel like if Dream said it, it would be more of an acceptance of how different his brother is, and how he'll never get his Nightmare that he knew and loved back, because his brother would never do this. Killer might say it to be a lil shit and torment him.

Just a thought I had! Hope you're having an fantastic day!

Hello!!! Thank you so much!! <33333 and good good don’t apologize cause it’s completely accurate to think of Regina George and I’m actually guilty of thinking the same thing like honestly fits shhshs

Here’s the Regina George Nightmare we all need

Now back to the main point shdhhd

Y’know funny thing is I can imagine his reaction would definitely differ depending on who says it, if it’s someone like Killer or anyone else other than Dream, I can imagine him feeling slightly offended/angry by it, but it wouldn’t have much of an impact, cause what does Killer truly know? Killer never saw/ known those villagers, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, at least that’s the mindset Nightmare would have, he’d just threaten Killer to zip it or simply throw him across the room

I can’t truly imagine Dream saying such a thing to Nightmare but I can definitely see the opposite with Nightmare saying it to Dream (which cough i already drew before >:) ) but we’re talking hypothetically so let’s talk about how he’d feel if Dream said it cause god, I wholeheartedly believe if Dream said it then hell would break loose

Cause the thing is, Dream was there, he knew those villagers, he knew how they were like and he knew how bad they were, Dream lived those days with him, but even then, while Dream endured a different kind of abuse, the villagers actually loved Dream, and they hated Nightmare, so how could Dream, who never had a single villager lay a finger on him, how could his twin of all people to say to him that he’s like his abusers??? Nightmare would go through the five stages of grief in 5 seconds

He’d be in so much denial, only to settle on pure unfiltered rage, cause how dare Dream, his twin, his blood and magic, tell him that he’s like them?

I can see Nightmare making excuses for his own actions, that he’s only doing all this to make them pay, he’d even say something along the lines of “so what if i am like them??” To convince himself that the idea of being like them doesn’t bother him (all while it fucking eats away at him) I can see Nightmare making excuses for why Dream would think such a thing, “you’re just drained of your magic, you’re confused”

I can see him go after Dream all the more aggressively, intent to kill cause how fucking dare he??

But then I can see the rage and fight leave Nightmare to finally settle on depression and resignation, all while part of him is still (and will forever be) in absolute denial

He knows he’s not like them, he never was and never will be

But why would he be an absolute mess by Dream saying it? Cause I wholeheartedly believe Nightmare would never expect Dream to compare him to the villagers, cause when your own twin says it it just cuts the much much much deeper

Hell I can even see Nightmare actually crying tears of frustration, maybe not in front of Dream cause Nightmare had become so used to isolating himself and keeping his emotions inside, and with his mindset of never wanting to appear weak he’d only let those tears out once he is sure he’s all alone

Because by god, he never thought it’d hurt so much to hear those words uttered by his brother, but they did hurt, and he’ll hurt Dream all the much worse for it

(Same to you!! Hope you’re haveing a wonderful day/night <333)

[woniverse-writes]

"Moth to a Flame (part 6)"

Bada Lee x Reader

part 5 ⟵ part 6 ⟶ part 7

series masterlist

summary: y/n l/n is the youngest team member of Jam Republic, competing in the second season of Street Woman Fighter. she’s got the sweetest smile and the most vibrant personality, but she also may or may not be the biggest hothead on the show when it comes to defending her teammates. apparently that’s attractive to Bada Lee.

word count: 12k

warnings: swearing, angst, mentions of depression anxiety disorder, mentions of medication, not proofread, nothing i write is a reflection of anyone's true character and is a work of total fiction

It had been almost a week since the interim mission check. Almost a week since 1 million was estimated to place first. A week since Jam Republic began preparing themselves for elimination. A week since Bada and Y/n fought… a week since the two had last spoken.

After the screaming match between the two girls and y/n making her exit with a slam of team Bebe's dressing room door, the younger headed to her own dressing room bawling her eyes out. Her teammates didn't immediately question anything as she stormed in and began to aggressively pack up the few things she had brought back for the day. Audrey made her way over to place a gentle hand on her shoulder

"y/n-" but was immediately swatted away by the still-crying girl. y/n immediately turned around with regret written all over her face

"I'm so sorry- I didn't- I didn't mean to push you away" she sobbed with wide eyes, shaking her head, trying to convince her friend that she didn't mean it, but Audrey already knew that. Audrey knew Y/n.

"hey, hey! It's okay, I know you didn't mean to…" she comforted the girl, bringing her into a hug. This time the younger girl let her friend wrap her in a warm hug. She buried her face in Audrey's chest and bawled her eyes out until she felt too tired to carry on.

"Is something else bothering you lovey?" Kirsten asked gently from somewhere in the corner. Y/n looked up slightly confused, which is when she realized they had no idea what just happened. She began to cry all over again, this time just weeping exhaustedly. I don't even think you could call it crying- more so just her looking sad as tears freely ran down her face. It took her a few minutes before she could even begin to explain, but when she did it wasn’t any easier.

“I got into an argument with Bada… well- it was actually a really bad fight, and- and I totally fucked everything up” Poor girl could barely finish her sentence, as she hiccuped her way through it before she started sobbing and heaving again. Everyone in the room shared looks of shock and confusion, all rushing closer to comfort their youngest. Audrey already had her hand rubbing circles softly on Y/n’s back while Emma sat on the other side rubbing her shoulder, and the oldest three kneeled/sat in front of her.

“I’m so sorry my sweet girl… do you wanna tell us about it?” Kirsten being the wonderful leader and friend she is, did not hesitate one second before openly trying to comfort y/n. The youngest sniffled and hiccuped a bit more while trying to nod.

“Y-yeah, just give me a-a few minutes, p-please” y/n shakily pleaded as her sobs picked back up. After about ten minutes of crying, she was pretty sure there was nothing left in her. Latrice had gotten up to get her water a few minutes ago and now was forcing her to drink it seeing as y/n had been able to calm down.

“Take your time baby, you don’t have to tell us everything- you don’t even have to tell us anything if you don’t want to!” Ling reassured her little bestie and made sure y/n still remembered how safe she was with Jam Republic.

“No, it’s okay- I want you guys to know… I just- I don’t even know where to start or how to retell this…or if I even have the energy to do so right now…” the youngest countered, wanting just to tell her members what happened and get it out of the way so she could begin suppressing it, but her eyes began to droop and her voice got soft, both being immediate signs of her exhaustion. And on any other day, or in any other situation her members would find it quite endearing, but they can’t help but feel crushed at the sight.

“Why don’t we finish packing- after the flight, you’ll have rested a bit, and if you’re feeling up to once we’ve landed you can explain the whole situation to us then. If not, that’s okay too.” Latrice gently spoke up, reminding everyone that they had a flight to leave for in just under an hour and a half. Y/n sniffled and nodded, slowly standing up. Everyone immediately backed away slightly to give her enough space, then watched as she lifelessly moved around the space, finishing packing her things. It sincerely shocked them to see her this way, thinking it was already pretty bad how she was acting before they showed up- and that was when they WEREN’T paying attention to her. Y/n was never good at hiding her feelings unless it was when she was dancing or performing- when she was putting on a show- so to see her so sluggish and empty really scared the five other members of Jam Republic.

“This is going to be a long, hard fucking week…” Emma noted, the others either nodding or tiredly humming in agreement.

________________

“Do you wanna talk about any of it?” Lusher tried her best not to pry- not that she would've had to pry much anyway since she heard the whole thing- but she wanted to hear how Bada was feeling with the aftermath. The leader just sighed deeply once again with her elbows resting on her knees, hunched over as she laid her head in her hands.

Bada felt nauseous. She felt dizzy, like the room was spinning and her ears were ringing. To be completely honest, there was a possibility she would pass out at any moment. None of what had just happened in the last- what? 20 minutes? Was it longer than that? Hell, was it shorter? Bada really had no clue, but none of what had happened in that time felt real to her.

“I don’t know Lusher…” the leader finally mumbled, still hunched over. It was quiet and meek, sounding exhausted. The sub-leader glanced around at her teammates whose faces were all some sort of variation of fear or anxiety, She sighed and crossed her arms before speaking up again

“Well, then how about we get some rest? Maybe afterward you’ll want to talk about it, or maybe you won’t- either way, we’ll be here…” She firmly stated, knowing how tired everyone was and how sleep easily played a role in how well they felt. The leader took a huge breath, her members watching had her shoulders rose and fell. Bada stood up with her head still hanging low. The other girls moved out of the way and watched as the oldest started groggily packing up her things and sat back down on the couch with an empty look when she finished.

“I’m ready when you guys are.”

____________

The first day back in New Zealand was just another segment added to the nightmare that Jam Republic has been living in these last few days. Y/n slept the whole plane ride but woke up with a very minor fever and headache. She just chalked it up to crying so much and getting so world up.

“I promise it’s fine Kirsten, I'm probably just dehydrated-” 

“Which still isn’t good! Even if that’s the case, it’s not something to treat lightly, y/n. And since I know you’re lying it’s even more serious to me… I need you to try your best to take care of yourself right now love, we need you.” she dragged the youngest over to some airport market and grabbed two waters and a bottle of juice. Kirsten glanced over her shoulder and saw eyeing up some snacks, but didn’t end up grabbing them. When the younger walked away to look at something else, the leader moved to grab whatever she was looking at. The bright colorful packaging with cute designs made her smile. It was obviously a very y/n-like treat- some sort of sweet gummies with a sour sugar coating. She grabbed two of them and got a savory snack as well, knowing how stubborn her youngest is and how hard on herself she can get.

When all of their luggage had been picked up, all six members of Jam Republic headed back to their hotel. y/n lay with her head against the cool glass of the window, not quite asleep but definitely not mentally present. Everyone was already worried from what had happened the previous day, but it seemed like something different was the issue now. Y/n didn’t only seem depressed anymore- she seemed physically ill.

By the time they arrived at their place, Emma was the first to offer y/n help, which she obviously declined. Yet Emma still took her heavier bags, and y/n didn’t even have the energy to complain. The older carried them up for her as she dragged behind the rest of the group. Audrey, noticing how out of it her best friend was, circled back around to meet y/n in the back of the clump

“You not feeling too good, bunny?” the slightly older brunette questioned with eyes full of concern, and a mouth of whatever candy bar she was munching on. Y/n actually felt herself smile a bit at how endearing her friend was. still, she sighed and nodded, which of course Audrey didn’t believe.

“I really don’t get why you feel like you have to lie about it…” the elder mumbled, kicking a rock while they walked. Great, now I made Audrey upset. y/n frowned and sighed deeply

“It’s just easier to deal with it by myself… it’s exhausting having to explain why I feel the way I do, especially when I don’t even understand it half the time… I wanna tell you guys, I promise I do, but it would drag the team down so much, Audrey…”

“Why do you say that? Because we’d have to take time to discuss what’s wrong? Because we’d have to stop working and focus on you for a second?”

“No Audrey it’s not-”

“Oh so then it’s because we care about you and we’d do anything for you in a heartbeat and you don’t wanna accept that you have people that sincerely love you? You don’t wanna accept that you really are a loveable amazing person who doesn’t deserve to be talked to or treated like that?” Audrey pointed off somewhere in the direction they had just come from, seething as she finished. this was the first time y/n had ever seen the girl as angry as she was, but she couldn’t help but feel confused

“How… how do you know what she said?” y/n tilted her head and awaited her friend’s response with said eyes. Audrey hesitated for a second, feeling like she’d said too much, but sighed and began speaking again

“Lusher told Latrice… well- Latrice and me. I still want to hear everything from you though- I want to know how you’re processing all this and how it felt for you because while she seemed neutral, there could just as easily be things Lusher left out in favor of Bada.” she quickly explained, hoping she hadn’t betrayed the other girl’s trust by getting the story from someone else first.

“Lusher didn’t seem… mad? Wait- how does she know? Did Bada really tell them everything already? I mean I guess that makes sense since-” her mumbled external pondering was cut off

“They heard everything…” the older of the two once again spoke hesitantly, unsure of how the other would react. y/n just glanced over, slightly dazed

“Huh?” Audrey let out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding, then continued explaining.

“Lusher said their entire team was just around the corner while you guys were arguing, and they could hear everything…” she trailed off at the end, cringing slightly at how bad the entire situation was. Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, feeling another wave of headaches coming

“Great, now all of team Bebe hates me…”

“You don’t know that!” Audrey was simply trying to be her optimistic self, and she couldn’t help but giggle when the slightest bit of normal y/n showed through the depression when she gave her older friend an over-exaggerated deadpan look. The two finally reached their shared room and began unpacking the few things they had. After doing so, the girls all quickly washed up and got changed, then headed to practice.

Practice had gone well for the most part- the first half was reworking practically everything and adding more to make the choreography stand out more. The second half was just drilling everything until it was muscle memory, or at least close to it. Everyone could tell y/n wasn’t feeling well. It didn’t show in her dance, but definitely on her face as she looked miserable every time they finished.

“Why don’t you take a break hon-” Emma tried convincing her with a gentle hand on her shoulder, to which y/n loosely pushed it away

“Em, I’m fine” she whined and moaned, tired of having everyone baby her for the day. The older stood there for a moment before sighing and shaking her head, then walking off. The rest of the practice went the same, and everyone finished wrapping things up around 12:45 am. 

Later that evening (or morning rather) after practice had ended and all of Jam Republic had returned to their hotel, y/n started throwing up and her fever increased severely, ending her up in the ER at 2 am with Kirsten and Ling, the others being told to stay back and get some rest.

“After running some tests and talking with her, it just seems like a stress fever, which thankfully means there’s nothing physically wrong- well besides some dehydration, but we have her on an IV for right now- However, whatever is causing the girl so much stress should probably be taken out of her life immediately…” the doctor sternly informed the two oldest members of Jam Republic. They both just looked at each other, not really knowing what to do, seeing as their poor baby’s stress was unavoidable right now unless she were to completely drop from the challenge, and maybe even the entire competition as a whole.

“We’re actually a part of a competition right now… we want her to rest but- we need her to be able to compete with us. Is there anything we can do to speed up the recovery?” Ling spoke before her friend could, the desperate tone already taking over her voice. The doctor sighs and takes off his glasses.

“We could try putting her on an anti-anxiety medication to see if that helps… but it really would be the most ideal to let her rest as much as possible in a low-stress environment.”

“A low-stress environment isn’t really possible right now. And- she’s actually already on something for anxiety and depression, would she even be allowed to do that?” at Kirsten’s question the doctor looks slightly confused

“Has she not been taking the medication recently? Because when we ran the tests to see if there was something in her system, we found no traces of drugs, alcohol, or any substances…” The two dancers once again looked at each other, having a silent conversation.

“Would we be able to see her?” the leader asks softly, to which the doctor nods and leads them to y/n’s room. He opens the door and they find her lying there staring off into space, barely awake.

“Hey honey… is it alright if we come in?” Kirsten asked as softly as she could while still wanting the girl to hear her. Y/n nodded wordlessly and closed her eyes. The two oldest Jam Republic members came and sat near her hospital bed and after a few minutes of conversation with the doctor, it was just the three of them in the room. 

“Sweetheart…” the leader brushed some hair out of y/n’s face and watched as her eyes fluttered open

“Did you hear any of that?” She finished and furrowed her brows, unsure of how aware of her surroundings the younger was. Y/n shook her head and matched Kirsten’s expression

“They’re gonna keep you here overnight to make sure you get enough hydration before going back, okay?” She kept brushing away stray hairs and petting them down softly against y/n’s head, lulling her to sleep. There was a slight nod of understanding. Kirsten stood up and y/n quickly (as quickly as she could) reached out to grab her hand

“Please stay… at least one of you… can at least one of you please stay with me” the youngest pleaded in a pitiful whisper that made the older two’s hearts break all over again. This girl really was going to be the death of them all

“Of course honey, we’ll both stay” Ling reaches for her other hand pressing a motherly kiss to the back of it 

“I’m sorry… for slowing down the process and now dragging you guys into it… you should be getting good rest right now… not here with me… and here I am being selfish by asking you to stay… shocker…” It seemed like y/n was just mumbling whatever was coming to mind, yet tears were once again freely slipping down. Her eyes closed and wet eyelashes fluttered softly against her cheeks as she drifted off. The two sat there in slight shock, a bit taken aback by what she’d said. Both had wanted to say something and let her know how wrong she was- how while yes they should’ve been resting, it was more important to them that she was okay. After a few minutes of silence, Ling spoke up

“Why didn’t you tell her she can’t practice?”

“Because now is not the time to send her into a nervous breakdown… she’s barely even conscious, it’d probably give her a heart attack if I told her she wasn’t allowed to practice” the leader stressed and hung her head for a moment.

“We’re gonna have to ask her about her medication in the morning…” she sighed rubbing her forehead, causing Ling the groan softly so as not to disrupt the sleeping girl a few inches away

The next day Kirsten woke up first and told a half-asleep Ling she was going to grab breakfast for them. When she returned, it seemed the older had been awake for a bit and that y/n had just been waking up. The leader sat in the chair next to the hospital bed and handed everyone their food. y/n thanked her teammate quietly and they all began eating. After a few brief moments of silence and soft chewing, Kirsten spoke up

“So there are a few things we need to talk about…” she mentioned seriously, glancing up at y/n who was staring intensely at her food, but had stopped chewing for the moment.

“...like what?” the younger questioned and went back to cutting up her food to eat more.

“Like why you haven’t been telling us things… we need to know when you aren’t feeling well y/n or else we can’t help you-” Kirsten explained in a worried motherly tone but was quickly cut off 

“I don’t want you to have to help me-” the bedridden girl argued tiredly and sighed. There wasn’t any anger and she didn’t raise her voice in the slightest. She was just exhausted. 

“I should be able to take care of myself on my own. I’m an adult… i should start acting like one” y/n spoke everything loud and clear until the last phrase. She had mumbled the statement to herself, sinking back into her pillows and wallowing in pity again, but Ling and Kirsten both heard the self-deprecating callout. Every second that passed, the two eldest grew more and more worried about their youngest’s wellbeing 

“The doctors said they didn’t didn’t find any traces of anything in your system, which is good, but that also included your meds… did you forget to take them yesterday?” Ling questioned softly rubbing the back of the girl’s hand. Y/n once again goes completely silent, and avoids eye contact with an extremely guilty expression, which has both older members raising an eyebrow.

“Y/n… what’s up?” Kirsten pushed for a response, causing the younger dancer to sigh

“I haven’t been taking them regularly…” Y/n mumbled, fiddling with the blanket that laid over her lap, still avoiding eye contact.

“You haven’t been taking your meds???” “Y/n are you fucking kidding me? Since when?” both members started began outwardly stressing

“...since the second week of filming-”

“THAT WAS THREE AND A HALF MONTHS AGO-”

“Lingy, let’s not yell at her… I’m sure she had a reason…” Kirsten put a hand on her shoulder and the oldest sighed, they both turned expectantly to y/n, who felt immensely small in front of them for the first time in her entirety of knowing the two dancers.

“...they were making me tired” The youngest curled into her and cringed at the excuse, especially after seeing both women’s faces drop into disbelief.

“Are you serious right now?” Ling questioned with a deadpan expression her arms crossed. Y/n bit her lip and continued to play with her fingers.

“y/n…” Kirsten sighed as she closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose

“I started that new medication and it made it impossible for me to do anything! I was barely making it through those battles and the only thing keeping me going was the excitement and adrenaline-” The youngest tried to defend her reasoning but what cut off

“So you thought it was better to just take nothing? Why didn’t you say something to someone, or even just call your doctor and ask to go back-” This was the first time Kirsten even slightly raised her voice at y/n, and it wasn’t even at that point, but the small girl could feel the disappointment radiating off of her team leader, and she felt everything come crashing again.

“Because I didn’t want to go back to the other medication, it did nothing for me- I wouldn’t have switched in the first place if it worked!” she could feel herself getting worked up again, tears somehow still being able to form. She sighed and laid back in the hospital bed, actually crying this time instead of having tears judge freely fall down her face as she stared blankly.

“I know I shouldn’t have stopped taking them… but I just couldn’t do it. I thought I was doing fine…” y/n mumbled, wiping away tears and sniffling, feeling exhausted again.

“Y/n…” Kirsten started after taking a deep breath and hearing the younger girl’s hum of recognition 

“You can’t practice.”

“What…” barely came out as a whisper 

“You’re too stressed out right now, and your immune system is down… you aren’t eating or sleeping properly and you’re overworking yourself. You are literally killing yourself slowly… and for what? A stupid competition? Some girl?” she tried to keep her tone level and calm, but Kirsten couldn’t help the rise at the mention of the other team leader, hating her in that brief moment for being one of the reasons her poor baby was feeling this way

“If it’s so stupid Kirsten, then why are we here?” Y/n could feel herself getting frustrated again. This was exactly why no one took her seriously, because her team didn’t even take her seriously, or at least that’s what she thought. Kirsten let out what felt like the twelve hundredth sigh within the last 24 hours.

“They’re discharging you in about 20 minutes… you’re allowed to come to practice but it’s recommended that you don’t… the doctors said it’s best to keep you out of high-stress environments right now-“ 

“Yeah well, do they even know what’s going on?” so many things were happening in the moment. Y/n felt like she was going to combust and throw up and pass out all at once. She’d never spoken to Kirsten like this- fuck she’d never felt frustrated with Kirsten like this. 

“Yes y/n, we told them, and they still think it’s best for you to rest… at least for a little while” The leader’s tone was back to gentle, but it sounded just as tired as the younger girl’s. Y/n didn’t say anything as she sat in disbelief. The three sat in silence for the next few minutes until it was time for y/n to be discharged. She signed off on some documents and then the three were off. They decided to head back to the hotel first before meeting the others at the studio, wanting to change and all that since they’d all spent the night at the hospital in their pajamas. 

Y/n decided to stay back and get some more rest, finally giving in to her exhaustion. While they were glad she was taking their advice, Ling and Kirsten once again couldn’t help but feel their hearts hurt for their youngest members. It was always hard seeing each other go through tough times, but it usually never lasted this long or became this severe. It felt like there was nothing they could do to help her.

The youngest jam republic dancer napped and rested for about five hours after she had made her return to their hotel. After waking up she showered and got dressed and decided to head down to the studio. When y/n arrived she waved and greeted everyone politely with a gentle smile, shocking everyone at her appearance.

“I thought you weren’t coming today- you said you were gonna rest.” Kirsten separated herself from the group after telling them to keep practicing

“I did rest- but I couldn’t just sit there and do nothing… even if I don’t feel well I should still come and watch to make sure I’m not missing anything” y/n defended her case to the best of her ability, but Kirsten was always right

“No, if you don’t feel well you need to be resting and taking care of your body AND your brain” the leader retorted, teasingly poking the younger girl’s forehead at the end of her sentence to make a point. Y/n cracked the tiniest smile and even though it was barely there Kirsten was proud of herself for at least being able to do that much.

Y/n sat at the front and watched the practice for the remainder of the time, taking notes on everything she saw whether it be strengths or weaknesses, new ideas, or things she felt needed to be changed entirely. The girl was surprisingly calm and didn’t feel any stress while she was observing. That’s pretty much how the rest of that week’s practices went for Y/n until the last three days before filming. She had been begging Kirsten to allow her to get back to dancing and the leader actually almost caved a few times, desperate to perfect the routine, but still stayed strong and insisted she rested.

____________

It had been a week since the two had spoken. By now all the choreography was finished being created, taught, and perfected. The videos were all shot and edited and it was finally the day where all seven teams would present their work to everyone else and the judges. The day when another two crews would be put up for elimination, and once would go home. 

Everyone entered the arena one by one, each team taking their designated seat. It was always mindlessly interesting in these situations, where they’d all gather to watch something but not dance because the fashion choices were truly a show of each dancer’s honest character. Y/n looked as elegant as usual with her red, black, and ivory ensemble. She was doing surprisingly well at the moment, having more of an icy glare rather than the empty eyes of depression that had taken over her the last week or so. 

Y/n was doing surprisingly well until she wasn't. Jam Republic is seated by the time team Bebe passes by. y/n feels her heart rate pick up as they approach, all of them glancing at her, some glaring, but their leader acted as if she didn't even see the girl and walked right past them with an icy stare.

“Oh, now that’s just fucking mean” Ling scoffed and stared down the team as they took their seats. Everyone was obviously feeling on edge and very nervous about the results, but y/n still looked quite ill. She had recovered for the most part, but she suddenly felt like throwing up again at the interaction with Bebe. She's still so distraught from the fight with Bada a couple of days before, and now the youngest dancer is scared shitless that both of their teams are going to be up for elimination. As much as she wants to avoid the older girl right now, y/n wouldn't be able to live with herself if Bebe got sent home today…

y/n took a sharp breath, biting her lip trying to push back the sudden sting of tears already feeling the anxiety begin to gnaw away at her. Lusher noticed this right as the team took their seats and spoke over her shoulder to their leader. 

"you can't keep ignoring her…" the younger prompted after seeing the way Bada pretended y/n didn't exist when they passed by

"excuse me? Who are you to tell me what I can and can't do?" the leader coldly responded, eyeing the girl up and down. Tatter felt a shiver run down her spine at the interaction, already worried about the integrity of her team considering the rest of their practice time felt like a waste as well. She just sighed and tilted her head out of stress.

After the fight between Bada and Y/n happened, and they both went their separate ways alongside their teams, team Bebe began to fall apart. Bada read through the countless criticisms their routine had gotten and didn’t even know where to start. The stress was eating her alive and she tried her best not to let it show. Normally when things got bad, the Bebe leader would talk about it with Y/n, but that obviously wasn’t a possibility right now, which made everything so much worse. 

Practices became unbearable due to how irritable the leader had become, often losing patience easily when things didn’t work out how they were supposed to. Any time they’d go on break Bada would sit and rewatch whatever footage had been taken or reread the notes to see what was going wrong. The other six Bebe members sat off to the side getting water, all observing their oldest with immense concern. She still hadn’t opened up about the situation to them, honestly feeling too embarrassed, even though she knew they heard the entire thing. The guilt of it all was eating away at Bada and she didn’t want to admit that.

“She’s gonna have to share the burden with us at some point” Lusher sighed and pushed herself up off the floor, sauntering over to their crew leader and popping a squat next to her

“You haven’t had any water today…” the sub-leader observed while glancing at the taller girl

“You’re seriously keeping track of whether I do or don’t drink water?” it was supposed to come out in a joking manner, but Bada was serious, the sentence coming out flat and irritated. She didn’t look up from the sheets of paper she was looking over when she responded as well, completely focused on fixing the issue that she couldn’t seem to understand.

“Yeah I am- because you’ve stopped taking care of yourself and you won’t let anyone help you” Lusher snapped back, causing Bada to finally look up and meet her harsh gaze. The younger dancer’s arms were crossed and her brows were furrowed, making her look more like a pouty child than an angry adult, but still Bada could feel the frustration radiating off of her. She sighed and stood up, tall stature looming over Lusher for a second before she stood as well.

“Talk to me… this isn’t gonna work if you take everything on yourself” the shorter once again encouraged her teammate to share her troubles. Bada sighed and the two stared at each other for a moment before Lusher turned her head slightly to call out for Tatter. The blonde came bounding over with a somewhat nervous look on her face

“What’s up?” she asked

“You think you’d be able to run things by yourself for a bit?” Lusher questioned in return, causing Bada to cock her head a little, not entirely fond of the idea. But the way the youngest director confidently responds makes her feel a little better about it. The other responds with a quick ‘great’ and a smile, before dragging Bada out of the practice room and slightly down the hall to one of the small dancer lounges.

“Alright- let’s hear it.” Lusher claps her hands together as she sits on the couch and crosses one leg over the other. The leader lets out an amused scoff and shakes her head. She sits down on the other side of the couch and leans on the armrest.

“I just feel stressed about the routine… we’re taking a big risk with what we’re doing and I can’t help but wonder if it’s the right approach…” Lusher eyed her suspiciously, not fully believing the leader

“So it has nothing to do with Y/n?” she tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, the leader huffing at the question

“Well of course it has plenty to do with Y/n- we didn’t exactly leave off on good terms the last time we talked… it’s just more unnecessary added stress that I need to stop thinking about and move past.” Bada finished her reasoning in a reserved manner, looking away from the girl next to her

“Woah- wait- you think that’s really something you should just ignore??” Lusher was genuinely shocked, not used to her leader being so avoidant. Maybe it was her way of trying to remain relaxed and cool, but the younger dancer could see how terribly the whole situation was affecting her friend, and it definitely wasn’t something to just be left alone.

“Well, I have better things to worry about right now than some childish dancer who clearly can’t control her emotions” the shorter girl scoffed completely unamused 

“This is coming from the person who blew up on her just as easily- come on Bada, you’ve never been a hypocrite so don’t start now” She couldn’t help but laugh a little at how childish the leader was being without even realizing it 

“So you’re taking her side now?” Bada looked pretty offended, telling the other dancer just how serious she was with her question. Lusher sighed deeply

“I’m not taking anyone’s side, but you both were really shitty to each other… neither of you should’ve said the things you said- but by you saying how immature and emotional she is, you’re pretty much saying it all about yourself because you two had the same energy going on…” she tried to explain calmly, which resulted in another immature response from the leader

“I was simply matching her energy-” Bada pouted as she talked, and Lusher usually would’ve found it cute if it were any other situation

“Right, which by your definition was childish and irrational…” the leader scoffed and looked away, playing with her sleeve. There were a few moments of silence 

“You know she’s not doing well either…” the sub-leader spoke up after a while

“Yeah? And how would you know?” the taller girl mumbled, still not looking away from her sleeve, finding the loose string much more interesting than the conversation at this point

“Uhm, I asked her?” she posed it as a question, but it was meant in a sarcastic way, pointing out the obvious answer. Bada quickly snapped her head back up to finally look over at the younger girl

“Oh, so you’ve been talking to Y/n?” Lusher sighed again after seeing her friend’s irritated expression make a return

“Of course I have, she’s our friend- well she’s my friend, I don't know what she is to you” she responded softly and sincerely, yet mumbled the last part, causing the leader to scoff for probably the thirteenth time during this conversation

“C’mon Seoyoung, be serious right now- this isn’t the time for your silly little delusions-” Bada tried to joke slightly and steer her away from the door they were about to open

“No, you be serious Bada. you know damn well she’s more important to you than you’d like to admit. If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were practically in love with her.” the older of the two let out a laugh of disbelief at her teammate’s (accurate) accusation

“In love? With y/n? That hilarious Lusher- really funny actually. I’d love to know where your brain comes up with things like that.” her tone was low and sarcastic, becoming mean and condescending, similar to how it was the last time she spoke with Y/n

“Oh don’t fucking talk to me like that- you’re not gonna treat me like I’m an idiot because I know you better than that. Stop putting your insecurities onto the people who care most about you when they’re trying to help Bada” The room went silent and the older stood straight up in her place, eyes softening at the callout. It was strange to hear Lusher talk to her like that, or even hear her talk like that at all. Sure, the girl teased her a lot, but the two had never gotten into a serious back-and-forth argument like this. Bada thought at that moment that maybe she really could be the problem, seeing as how no one else had been getting into screaming matches like she had recently.

“I just don’t understand why she couldn’t just talk to me…” Bada mumbled sadly burying her head in her arms

“Because she was stressed out and hurt… I mean- if my girlfriend voted to eliminate my group, I would be hurt too-” Lusher tried easing the mood with some light teasing

“Seoyoung…” the older girl dramatically glared at her, but both knew the look held no real malice

“Okay my bad- sorry, but you get the point.” she rushed out in turn

“I do, but she said she understood…” the leader once again drifted off, focus going elsewhere

“Okay, and? She can understand your reason and still be upset about it. Especially since there were other things that were probably weighing down on her… you have to remember, we weren’t the only ones who voted to eliminate Jam Republic… EVERYONE voted for them… and since they had already been facing setbacks from the moment they got to New Zealand she was probably struggling a lot-” Lusher tried to help her understand, but Bada wasn’t having it

“yeah, she was struggling but I was too- you didn’t see me taking it out on her did you?” she tried to retort, but was met with Lusher’s immediate response

“but you did take it out on her! Just not immediately…” 

“Lusher you saw everything- you know how hard everything was for me-“ and it was true, lusher did see everything, just like she’s seeing it now. She witnessed one of her best friends completely lose her confidence and doubt all of her abilities while keeping it bottled up. But she was the only one who saw.

“Right, but she didn’t, Bada… How is she supposed to know that if you don’t tell her-”

“She didn’t tell me anything!” it felt like an argument was starting again. The older of the two truly not seeing the whole problem, or at least not recognizing her part in it

“Right, but you pushed her to talk about something she didn’t want to share with you- why? I don’t know- but that’s none of my business! YOU need to figure out what went wrong…” Lusher explained from the objective point of view

“I get that, but how is it fair for her to shut me out and then get bitchy with me, but when I do it in return that’s not okay?”

“Oh my god- Bada, it wasn’t okay for either of you to act that way! But your retaliating after pressuring y/n to talk about something she wasn’t ready to talk about seems like your own fault…you were so fucking mean to her Bada- like- the things you said were awful and absolutely not okay!” The younger of the two allowed her voice to increase, finally getting her point across. Lusher watched as Bada’s face softened again, feeling like she finally got through to her, even just a little bit.

“...I know” The older hung her head and covered her eyes, as Lusher sighed and sat down next to her, leaning her head on Bada’s shoulder.

“I know she treated you badly too, what she said wasn’t okay either- but it wasn’t charged like yours was” Bada scoffed and wiped her tears that she didn’t even realize had fallen

“yeah, and how do you know?” she shifted slightly to glance down at the younger girl, but Lusher just kept staring off into the space ahead of them

“Well- maybe at first it was a little bit… but at some point, she had already given up on fighting and just wanted to get out of there… believe me, Bada, she knows how bad she fucked up too…”

That week had been just as terrible for Team Bebe as it had been for Jam Republic. The last day before filming they ended up making drastic changes to really sell the concept, causing everyone to be exhausted the next day, but luckily they were all able to hold off until after filming had finished.

The team now sat in their designated area, everyone carrying a very negative intimidating intense energy, except Lusher who was just exhausted from still having to play the mediator at this point. After all teams have settled in and the production staff is ready to go, Kang Daniel begins recapping the mission for the audience members and announces the first concept shortly after. Deep n Dap’s video was shown first.

Y/n felt another wave of depression rush over her as she watched the video. It was so well organized and put together, and hearing how loud everyone else was cheering for the green team made her feel nauseous all over again. Yet the young dancer was able to preserve her face and not let her anxiety show, although she didn’t make a single sound or expression for the entire video. Once Deep n Dap’s score was revealed the entire team of Jam Republic began to get nervous seeing how high all three directors had scored.

Shortly after, it was Jam Republic’s turn. Kirsten had been asked about their rehearsal process and was only able to get a few words out before she started tearing up. The leader finally showed her tears, and Y/n hung her head holding her breath knowing she'd cry too if she didn't. When the score for Jam Republic’s leader was shown, y/n felt herself genuinely smile for the first time in three days.

Once the video started and everyone was cheering, y/n felt herself start to lighten up a little- but was also still frustrated at the circumstances- seeing as they all had no faith in Jam Republic and now here they are cheering for them. Witnessing how well the video turned out after all their trials and efforts, and how much everyone loved the individual parts really made Y/n feel so much better. It shocked everyone slightly that y/n wasn't showcased or highlighted at all, but they had no problem pointing her out since she still stood out due to her energy.

“Oh- Y/n didn’t have any highlights?” Redlic commented as the applause died down

“I guess they weren’t able to give her something with all the idea changes…” To be completely honest, Y/n didn’t want a highlight. When the crew began reworking their choreography and it came to the segment that had featured the youngest dancer, Y/n told Latrice to cut it. She was still not allowed to practice at the time and felt it was unfair to the other dancers and her team.

It actually made Bada feel really bad about herself- because, for the first time since meeting the girl, she was glad y/n wasn't in the spotlight. When the leader realized she was thinking this way it made her feel even worse about the situation, knowing how hard this all was on the younger girl, and she did nothing but make that worse for her. She felt conflicted the entire time watching the video- while she was mostly glad she didn’t have to watch Y/n be in the center of attention and was able to avoid accidentally reacting to how pretty she was; Bada was also annoyed that she wasn’t showcasing her talents like she normally did. Knowing how skilled the young dancer was, her presence alone probably would’ve guaranteed Jam Republic a win, so what reason was there for her not to be given her own part?

The other two scores were revealed and the team felt immense pride. However, any relief Y/n was feeling was ripped away just as quickly as it arrived. Daniel announced the 100-point deduction from Kirsten’s score due to them failing to meet the minimum amount of required dancers and y/n felt her stomach drop. The gasp she let out was followed by tears although she managed to push them back- she truly thought she was going to be sick. Y/n had to physically cover her mouth, to avoid letting out a sob or to stop herself from throwing up? She doesn’t even know. This poor girl is literally internally losing her shit and having a mental breakdown over the fact that they could lose to deep n dap.

Moments pass as Daniel re-explains the extra concept points that would be rewarded to the crew that executed the outdoor concept better according to the judges. When it was revealed that Jam Republic won the points Y/n burst into tears and covered her face with both hands as her shoulders shook with sobs. 

“Ahhh the baby” Amy whined in sympathy, pouting along with Redy and Lia

“She must’ve been so stressed” Waackxy pouted as she and her teammates nodded

“DON’T CRYYYYYY” Lusher was the only one from Bebe to shout out to her, the others kind of just side-eyeing her

“What? She still deserves comfort… she’s not a bad person, she just did a not good thing… I wouldn’t even call it a bad thing” The sub-leader sternly eyed up her teammates, then her leader, already tired of how they were acting.

"she cries too much" Bada was mumbling to herself but made sure to say it loud enough for the girl in front of her to hear. Lusher whipped around and pursed her lips, her nostrils flaring as she forced herself to take deep breaths

"For someone who got into an argument over immaturity, you're acting really childish." the younger of the two whispered calmly, but everyone could feel the rage simmering in her. She turned back around and her face immediately reverted back to one of pride for the pink team.

“Y/n, you were extremely ill during the second half of the rehearsal process-” Bada tilted her head, eyebrows furrowing in confusion and concern at Daniel’s words. She was sick? Is she okay now?

“How do you feel that impacted your overall performance?” the host questioned after Kirsten and Emma had finished giving their speeches. The youngest member sniffed and wiped her tears as she was handed the microphone, taking a deep breath before speaking

“Well…” she sighed and felt more tears coming

“It was extremely difficult for me personally, obviously… but I couldn’t help but feel like a burden to my team…” the youngest member let out a sob as she tried to finish her sentence. Audrey rubbed her back, comforting her friend.

“So I did my best to attentively take notes and help where I could, while actively reviewing the choreography until I was well enough to perfect it on my own…” Y/n was able to finish more stably after taking a few deep breaths and calming herself down. Daniel nodded and smiled sympathetically before thanking her and moving on.

“Wow… she taught herself everything in her own time and practiced it less than the others… and still looked that good???” NOB cocked her head, genuinely stunned by how dedicated and talented the youngest Jam Republic member was.

After 1 Million and Mannequeen’s videos were both shown and scores were revealed, announcing that 1 Million had taken the win, it was time to move on to the all-gender concept groups. Lady Bounce’s video was shown first, and they scored extremely well, seeing as it was well executed and had a lot of energy. The team had received a generally positive reaction during interim checks and also finished off strong with positive feedback from the judges. Both Bebe's and Y/n’s nerves were beginning to rise.

When it came time for Bebe’s video to play, everyone was interested to see what the team did with the feedback. Since Jam Republic was seemingly able to come back from near-elimination, the other crews were curious to see if Bebe would be able to do the same, or if they would simply take the other team’s place as the least impressive performance.

Right off the bat, Y/n was already distraught. The amount of partner work really threw her for a loop because it wasn’t like that before… and she literally thought she was gonna burst into tears again. She knew it was obviously just acting, but the young dancer still hated it and lowkey felt like it was a punishment, even though it clearly wasn’t. 

The entire time, she watched with a heavy heart. It was so good and she couldn’t even tell anyone how proud she was of them, especially Bada, so Y/n just there and silently let tears roll down her face the whole time. Her eyes were on Bada as soon as it ended. She of course didn’t look her way, but y/n continued to clap as hard as she could, knowing if she were to open her mouth and cheer she’d probably let out a sob

“It was just really good… I’m glad it turned out so well” she said wiping her tears and putting on a very fake smile trying her hardest to look happy and not utterly heartbroken, knowing how the camera picked up every reaction. Audrey once again patted her friend’s back and gave her a sympathetic smile. When Bebe’s score was shown everyone was shocked to see that it was lower than Lady Bounce’s- not by a ton, but still lower. Y/n felt her heart rate start to pick up, getting nervous at the thought of Bebe losing the whole challenge and ending in the elimination battle.

Bada started her speech well but only got about two words in before feeling a surge of emotions. She quickly recognized the hard work of her team and spoke on how she would continue to improve and grow as a director, before affirming it all with a nod and handing the microphone back over. Wolf’Lo’s performance followed, and Y/n wasn’t shocked at all when she continued to be unimpressed by the group’s work. However, despite her exhaustion and anxiety, the youngest Jam Republic member was still able to pull out an expressive reaction to the orange team scoring higher than Bebe.

“That’s fucking ridiculous…” Y/n glared at the screen, unable to hide her distaste. Emma snorted at the girl’s reaction

“Good to see you haven’t lost your judgment” the older girl teasingly smirked at her teammate who just smiled lightly and shook her head. Daniel moves on to announcing which of the three teams received the bonus points for executing their concept the best. Ladybounce took the win and y/n began to panic more seeing that Bebe came in last out of the three. When they showed the current rankings based on judges' scores, she was relieved Jam Republic wasn’t at risk for elimination, seeing Bebe in sixth place had her head spinning. She was really hoping the audience votes would keep her safe and boost Bebe in the ranks as well.

The host began announcing the final ranks for the mission, after adding in audience votes and views. 1 Million placed first, not surprising anyone, since their performance was practically flawless. Jam Republic was called for second place and all six of the members felt the tension leave their bodies, even though their safety was guaranteed by their win. Audrey put her arm around y/n and the girl was able to smile a little bit more at their victory, still not completely present in the moment due to how much of a nervous wreck she was for Bada and her team. Now that Y/n knew she was one hundred percent safe, she should’ve felt relieved, but no such feeling came.

While the other members debated who tied with Mannequeen for third between Ladybounce and Bebe, y/n just continued to lay with her head on Audrey’s shoulder, totally zoned out. Ladybounce won and the youngest jam member tensed up while applauding, not moving from her teammate's shoulder. When Bebe is announced as fifth it takes y/n a second to come out of her daze, and when she does she sits straight up and feels tears sting her eyes again. She’s able to hold them back as she applauds, finally feeling genuine relief knowing that the team is safe.

Bada was handed the mic to give her speech, and much like everyone else who had held the microphone at one point today, she began to tear up. Of course, all the natural stress and anxiety of the challenge and competition as a whole had gotten to her, but everything had hit so much harder since she wasn’t able to share any of it with Y/n. The leader felt tears rush faster, no matter how hard she tried to keep them back. After taking a few deep breaths and racing some encouraging pats on the back from her team, Bada was able to speak up

“I’m glad we always scored well in previous missions, but it was a lot of pressure going into this knowing how high the standards were for us…” the tall leader started off 

“It’s really all thanks to the members for keeping things going while i wasn’t at my best, so thank you. We’ll continue to keep showing great performances.” Bada finished with a firm not and grateful smile, evoking applause from the other teams. Deep n Dap and Wolf’Lo place in sixth and seventh by default, meaning they are the two teams up for elimination. Daniel announces that both teams are free to go prepare for the battles now and everyone disperses, heading back to their individual hideouts. Jam Republic is one of the last groups to head up to their room, along with Mannequeen, seeing as the two were hyping each other’s videos up.

“Oh shit- I think I left my phone down there…” Y/n sighed in annoyance after feeling around for her phone and not finding it

“Do you want me to come with you to check?” Emma offered, but the younger just shook her head

“No, it’s okay. I’ll meet you guys back in the room” she replied and the others nodded, then they both parted ways. Y/n went back down to the fight zone area, looking around Jam Republic’s seating for her phone, finally finding it next to the bleachers. As she heads back up and begins going down the hall, someone rounds the corner nearly bumping into her.

“Oh- I’m sorry” Y/n meekly whispers at the taller blonde, who at first was glaring down at her, but softened her gaze once she realized how terrible the girl looked. Even under all the stage makeup she had on, Y/n’s eyes were slightly sunken in and didn’t hold the same sparkle they usually did

“It’s fine…” Tatter somewhat dryly responded. Neither of them moved, both simply staring at each other for moments. The older of the two felt the urge to at least create some small talk between them, also harboring some guilty feelings for being cold toward the Jam Republic member.

“How have you been?” she crosses her arms and tries to sound relaxed, not wanting the other girl to feel uncomfortable. Y/n didn’t really know what to say, as she stood stuttering for a few moments, debating whether or not to answer truthfully

“well… I’ve definitely been better” is ultimately what she decides to say. Tatter frowns and her shoulders slump as she sighs

“I’m sorry…” y/n gives her a tight-lipped smile in return, hoping that would be the end, as the whole thing felt incredibly awkward. Yet the older sighed again and continued

“I’m actually sorry for some other things too… I’m sorry for not reaching out to check on you and for being so bitchy. I just saw how distraught Bada was after the whole situation between you two, and I didn’t even stop for a moment to think you could be doing worse… so I’m really sorry y/n” Tatter gently explained with genuine sorrow in her eyes. The other dancer was touched by the apology and a bit taken aback as well

“Thank you Tatter… I really appreciate it. These last few days have been miserable, especially since fighting with Bada… I understand you guys not wanting to talk to me or other things like that because I said some pretty terrible things-” the blonde cut her off with a scoff of a laugh

“Yeah well, you definitely weren’t the only one… I’d even argue that what Bada said was much worse” she strongly retorted, causing the younger girl to sigh and look down

“I know… but I kinda deserved it” Y/n quietly replied feeling her throat begin to close up at the memory

“Not really… I mean sure- you were being an annoying brat, and maybe a tiny bit selfish in the moment, definitely petty-” the other girl calmly argued

“Okay Tatter, was there a point you were trying to make?” the blonde laughed at her friend’s sarcasm, glad to see the slightest smile on the girl’s face, making it known that she wasn’t taking any of it personally

“What I’m trying to say is that even though you were having a rough moment, how Bada dealt with it was absolutely not the right way to go about it. Of course, you were both at fault, but she took it too far.” Tatter finished seriously with a small shake of her head. There was another moment of silence before she began speaking again, shifting the topic slightly

“I bet dealing with this didn’t make it any easier for you to get better, huh?” the older asked in regard to Y/n getting sick and having to continue working on the mission while trying to recover

“No, I actually think it’s part of the reason I got so sick… because I was so stressed out over everything already and that was like- my final straw” The two laughed softly at Y/n’s slightly dramatic statement. Tatter pouts playfully, yet feels genuine heartache for her two friends.

“Things will get better,  believe me… she misses you, she’s just so fucking stubborn” Tatter grimaced at the thought of her hard-headed leader and how she’s currently refusing to accept her guilt, causing the tiniest saddest smile to show on y/n’s face.

“I should probably get back to my group now…” the younger softly commented looking down somewhat sadly at her shoes. Tatter hugged her without hesitation and felt Y/n tense up at first, but the short girl quickly relaxed and wrapped her arms around the other in return. They said their goodbyes and right as the blonde watched Y/n turn the corner, she felt a tap on her shoulder and whipped around to see her own teammate.

“what took you so long?” Lusher questioned staring down at the still-empty water bottle the girl said she was going to fill up about 15 minutes ago. Tatter hesitated for a second before deciding it was better to just be honest

“...I was talking to Y/n” she watched as her older teammate’s eyes lit up slightly

“Oh? About?” Lusher curiously and somewhat suspiciously inquired, hoping it would be something good and not about how Tatter decided to beat the shit out of the other girl

“Nothing really, just checking in on her…” the two continued their conversation as they finally began heading back towards their hideout

“Oh, so you’re finally done glaring at her? Good!” the blonde laughed rolling her eyes at the older girl’s sarcasm

“Yeah… I apologized for being bitchy and then we talked a bit about how stressed she was and how it didn’t help when she got sick…” Lusher visibly relaxed at the younger dancer's truthful retelling of the conversation, feeling a bit more at peace knowing she wasn’t alone anymore in the “getting Bada to stop hating Y/n” battle

“I still can’t believe she got so worked up and stressed that she ended up in the hospital” Lusher nonchalantly replied, stopping Tatter in her tracks

“What??” the blonde exasperated, stuck a few steps behind behind the older dancer. Lusher looked around, confused for a moment until she remembered that she was the only one who knew

“Oh yeah, Y/n wound up in the hospital almost as soon as they got back to New Zealand. The doctors said she was so overworked and anxious that it was making her physically ill- that’s why she wasn’t allowed to practice or even be in the rehearsal space at time” Lusher briefly explained the whole situation to her teammate, who stood there with her jaw dropped

“How did you even find this out??” Tatter questioned, still baffled. Lusher’s face went from calm to somewhat guilty for a second

“Well… I had been trying to get in contact with Y/n to see how she was doing, but she wasn’t responding to any of my calls or texts. So I texted Latrice and she explained what was going on, and also made me aware that by texting her, I was lowkey stressing Y/n out more…” she finished with an embarrassed smile, knowing that she and Y/n were okay now and that she didn’t have to feel guilty about it anymore. Tatter scoffed in amusement, shaking her head as they both finally entered their team’s room.

“It took you two long enough!”

____________

After everyone had been given a break while Deep n Dap and Wolf’Lo prepared for their elimination battles, they all gathered in the arena for the show. The bright lights and cheers from the audience amped up the energy and had all the other teams extra hyped. 

The first battle was the “hidden battle”, where both teams went head to head as a whole group. Y/n wasn’t expecting more than what she’d usually seen from both groups, but it’s safe to say she was blown away by Deep n Dap’s performance. The song choice and usage of nunchucks really had her getting hyped up, and her normal, energetic self slowly coming back.

The battle to follow was between Chocol and Locker Zee. The young Jam Republic member was fired up, which meant some interesting comments were bound to leave her mouth before passing through her brain

“Bruh it’s so annoying how they’re suddenly so good… like- they were good before but this is AMAZING…” Her entire team side-eyed her, Kirsten and Latrice worried about the show airing what she just said, fearing she could get canceled; the other half trying not to laugh but internally agreed. When the third battle is about to begin and mini walks out and takes off her over shirt showing off her pink jersey, y/n gets excited and points with a smile, since the two are both pink lovers, of course causing her team to smile at her in endearment. When JJ walks out and does the same, y/n starts dying laughing, clapping her hands in amusement along with the rest of her crew. Once the battle starts Mini is the first to dance

“She’s like- actually scary” Y/n jokes around and hides behind Audrey, who laughs and continues to smile just because she’s happy her friend is able to joke around again. The fourth battle was the 5 on 5 and y/n was beginning to get tired of how good both teams were. It felt like things were never going to end, and she was honestly thinking neither team deserved to go home at this point. The fifth battle was another one-on-one with Baby Sleek and Locker Zee, which resulted in another win for Wolf’Lo, bringing the score to 3:2 in favor of Wolf’Lo.

For once, Y/n actually found herself rooting for Deep n Dap, probably because she couldn’t stand Wolf’Lo just as much, or possibly even worse. The sixth battle began, and it was between a duo from each team. Yeni Cho and Haechi came out for the orange team, while JJ and Locker Zee both came out for the green team. Y/n was once again bored by the older team’s presentation, genuinely excited to see what the Deep n Dap duo was about to whip up. 

When their music started and everyone recognized it was Michael Jackson, the energy in the room somehow increased even more. JJ and Locker Zee put on a flawless performance, executing each hit and accent perfectly, making sure to connect with each other and the audience. 

“BRO WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?????” “I DON’T KNOW BUT I NEED MORE OF IT” Audrey and Y/n are literally losing their shit while watching the performance, absolutely obsessed with the duo, hoping to see more of them in the future. As JJ and Locker Zee took the win, it tied up the score once again, bringing them to the final round, which ended up being between the two leaders. This was a battle Y/n was extremely curious about, already not a fan of Halo’s specific style and also aware of Mina Myoung’s incapability to freestyle. But when the music started, she was pleasantly surprised 

“WHAT THE FUCK WHY IS SHE EATING?????” Y/n is so baffled by Mina Myoung’s sudden ability to freestyle efficiently. Y/n stood there, fully back to her normal self (at least for the time being) holding onto her hair with her jaw dropped. To her, the improvement (call it that or desperation) was sickening- it was such a pleasant change that Y/n felt Mina deserved the win just for that alone.

However, the win goes to Halo, giving Wolf’Lo the overall gain of staying in the competition, meaning Deep n Dap was the next team to be eliminated. It’s a bit hard to watch, knowing they truly did try their best. Y/n was doing surprisingly well with not crying- well… until Mina started talking. The leader began her speech and the Jam Republic member was able to avoid tears until Mina brought up how she felt she was able to move on from 1 Million. After that, it was like the floodgates opened up. Don’t ask her why, but Y/n took that shit personally, like a shot straight to the heart. Especially when the Deep n Dap leader mentioned her relationship with Lia Kim, y/n felt her ache for them.

As all teams say their goodbyes to Deep and Dap and said team leaves the studio, filming ends for the day. Everyone is either standing around mingling or heading back to their own hideouts. Jam Republic continues their conversation with Mannequeen when Lusher comes bounding over and wraps her arms around y/n congratulating her, nearly scaring the life out of the small girl. When the younger turns around to see who it is, she once again bursts into tears and clings to her. Lusher feels her heart break even more for her friend yet can’t help but giggle softly at how cute the reaction was. Poor y/n was so scared that Lusher hated her too and it brought her the slightest bit of relief knowing that she didn't

Bada watched from where the rest of team Bebe sat in their designated spot, not even trying to hide her irritation at the situation. She was feeling a mix of annoyance (at both y/n and lusher) and watching the interaction once again sent a wave of guilt rushing through her.

"Ya know you can go congratulate her too…" Tatter spoke up from behind the leader. Bada looked over her shoulder at the blonde and scoffed, but it held no malice- she just sounded exhausted

"And why would I go do that?" the team leader looks over her shoulder with a cold stare and a slight look of disgust at the idea

"well for starters so you can stop getting into arguments with your own teammates-" She did have a point… Bada had been much more irritable since the argument, causing a lot of their practice time to be even more strictly ran

"and two, so you can stop making both her and yourself miserable" Ouch Tatter. Ouch.

“Weren’t you just glaring at her too when we walked in?” Bada rolled her eyes and pouted childishly crossing her arms, causing the other girl to snort and respond

“Yeah, but I talked to her in the hallway… she was in the hospital you know-” Tatter responded as if it were common knowledge or a quick throwaway fact about the girl

“What???” the leader’s eyes widened and she uncrossed her arms leaning forward to make sure she heard the girl correctly

“Yeah… got so worked up and anxious over everything she made herself sick apparently” Tatter shrugged, not having all the proper information. Bada sighed and rolled her eyes

“Seriously? Where‘d you even hear this from?” she pinched the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, now fully recognizing and admitting to the guilt she’d been suppressing. Tatter hesitated for a second, debating whether or not to mention her small conversation with the girl they were talking about, ultimately deciding not to.

“Lusher” the blonde gave away her source matter-of-factly. Of course, she heard it from Lusher. Bada was beginning to think if she hadn’t made a move on Y/n first, Lusher would’ve easily swooped in and done so. But now that she and Y/n were fighting, did that mean Bada could potentially lose her to the other girl? Lusher was attentive and understanding, closer to Y/n’s age, and had been the first of team Bebe to interact with Y/n… plus she had been in contact with her after the whole incident. The leader tried not to worry about the irrational possibility of her own teammate stealing the girl she was pining after away from her… but it was still a lingering thought nonetheless.

notes: i needed this chapter to be as long as it was just so you guys didn't have to suffer as much in the next chapter🫶

taglist (open) (continued in replies): @tinybada @angel-hyuckie @violetinferno @jesuschrist2006 @1luvkarina @uwulyn @justandloyal2961 @deadgirlwalking3 @squidvoldyvoid @vivzyo @ouhaika @jksjx @ocyeanicc @marianamartinsthings @jxrdxnh @luvjanexx @lorenztired @khjssss @heavenlycloud @loisje123 @starchasermyloves @zhivaxo @grinnwolph @notyourd0lly @stinkbvgs @nermandiiiii-blog @arujee @idontknownemore @thatgayinsomniac @fruitr0llup @cgriffin9797-blog @woooooya @kaaylvst @ssc7514 @astoreea @linda-botello @kpopgirl-97 @erikook @misszoldyc @sammisregrets @jysai @moonsvrse @froufrousnowman @amararosesblog @tikitsune @aestrelle19 @laaaasanielzz @randomhoex @tswisal1 @unpretty-reader @charlesswife @stella222

[danikamariewrites]

Take Them All Down (part 1)

Rhysand x reader

A/n: with all things I write I don’t really know what part of my brain this came from. I’ve had this story idea for a while I just never had characters to use it with. Maybe one day I’ll use it with my own but until then enjoy Rhys with a depression beard. Idk why but I mated Az and Feyre plz don’t be mad.

Warnings: death, angst, poison, blood, reader buried alive

You came to with a sharp inhale. The first thing you see is Beron Vanserra smirking down at you. You try to sit up but quickly find the male is kneeling on your chest. As you struggle against him he clicks his tongue at you. “Now, now y/n. None of that.”

You gave up. Tired from the brutal hours you spent fighting Hybern’s army. Before you could scream Beron gripped your jaw so tight he forced your mouth open. He dumped a small vial of clear liquid down your throat, quickly forcing your jaw shut so you’d swallow.

Once he let go up you started coughing, gasping for air. “What the fuck did you do to me?” You croaked out. Drowsiness started to take over your body. Your limbs feeling weak and tired. You fight the urge to close your eyes, attempting to flip your body so you could crawl to Rhys.

As your eyes closed you saw Beron’s mouth move but you couldn’t hear his threatening words. You just drifted off into an endless darkness.

——

It felt like you heard years pass as you stayed in the darkness. You heard Rhys cry out in anguish. A priestess and a somber organ and then nothing.

——

It’s been one month. One month without you and Rhys had become a ghost. He rarely leaves the Town House. Amren and Mor have been running the court. Cassian, Azriel, and Feyre are out of ways to help him.

The High Lord has barley said a word since you died. He just spends his days draped in an armchair, a glass of never ending whiskey clutched in his hand. Rhys had stopped shaving. A dark scruffy beard now covering his sharp jawline. And the bags under his eyes deepened as the days pass.

Rhys knows his family means well but it didn’t make him feel any better as he overheard their constant muttering. “What do we do?” “Has he ever been this bad before?” “He wasn’t like this after under the mountain.” “I’m worried he’s going to do something…drastic.”

If Rhys had the energy to move he would’ve left the Town House weeks ago. But this was your favorite place. He couldn’t just abandon it to collect dust. Rhys scratched at his beard and cleared his throat. The conversation in the hall paused for a moment as the family listened for a moment and went back to their whispers.

—

The five of them held their breath for a beat, then let go as the sound of ice clinking against glass breaks the silence. Cassian scrubs at his face with both hands. Amren shakes her head. Azriel speaks up first, “I’m out of answers.” Mor hugs herself and Feyre holds Azriel’s hand.

“What about other friends?” Mor asks. Azriel shakes his head. “I have intel that Helion and Kallias have been dealing with their own issues.” He lowers his voice more, “Day and Winter are in trouble. They may collapse in months, weeks even.” Amren’s eyes widen in shock. “Why?” She spits out. Azriel shrugs. It’s killing him to not have the answer.

Amren let’s out a huff as she voices what everyone fears. “We might be headed for the same fate if something doesn’t change.” They all look to the sitting room, sending up a prayer to the Mother.

——

It was hard opening your eyes. You still felt groggy from the battle. And then you remember Beron kneeling on you. The clear liquid burning down your throat. You jolted up but hit your head on something hard, forcing you down again.

Your eyes fly open. Your breathing fast and hard. It’s pitch black. You feel around the dark enclosed space. It’s getting harder to breathe.

Cushioned siding and smooth wood meet your fingertips. Your mind is racing. Then it clicks. Beron put you in a suspended state. The bastard fooled everyone into thinking you were dead.

Oh Mother, Rhys! Your mate was tricked into burying you.

You felt anger surge through you. Resting your palms against the smooth cold wood. Taking one more deep breath you pull back your fist, throwing all the strength you have into splintering the wood. It didn’t budge.

You switched fists. Willing the wood to break under your knuckles. You kept alternating fists. Punching again, and again, and again, and again.

A scream ripped from your lips and heavy tears started flowing from your eyes in waves. You didn’t yield. Continuing your assault on the coffin holding you back from the world.

Dirt finally fell through a crack onto your stomach. You jerked and felt something metal against your leg. They buried you with your sword. Strapping it to the belt of your dress you went back to breaking open the coffin. Your knuckles were gushing blood, stinging from the loose wood and dirt.

Another wave of strength and anger came over you and started kicking at the lid. The lid splintered in half allowing dirt to spill in. You sputtered as it fell into your mouth and eyes. Willing your arms to move you push the dirt away from you.

You begin to dig upwards. Crawling all six feet to the surface of the earth.

That was the tough part. Punching through the tightly packed ground was harder than the coffin. As your fist broke the ground you spread your fingers, feeling the cool night air.

Punching over and over again you got both arms out. You push the ground apart with what little strength you have left, pulling yourself from the grave. Gasping down air lighting cracked above. You rest for a moment, curling up on the ground.

Rolling on to your back a wail comes up from your chest. More tears run down your face, leaving tracks on the dirt coating your face.

A blood curdling scream of anger comes next.

Rain begins to pelt your face. You breathe a sigh of relief. You feel alive again.

You want to see Rhys but the need for revenge is overpowering. The anger rattles your bones as you begin to shake.

Flipping over you push yourself up on tired and bloody hands. Fingers seeping in to muddy ground. You focus on breathing and your ability to winnow.

As your power flows through you, you focus on getting as close to the Forest House as possible. Wards be damned. Let him know you’re in his court. In his home. Death is coming for Beron Vanserra and you will be the last person he ever sees.

—

Rapid and hard knocks shake the door of the Town House. Cassian rips it open so hard it almost comes off its hinges. A city guard is standing in the rain looking worried and disheveled. Tilting his head at the guard Cassian noticed the male seemed pale.

“What is it?” “I am sorry to disturb at this hour but there is something the High Lord must know.” Cassian’s brows furrowed, his eyes narrowing. “The High Lady’s grave it’s…been disturbed.” Cassian almost fell to his knees. “How?”

The guard looked like he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. “Speak!” The General commanded. “It’s been dug up, sir.”

Cassian left the door open as he rushed to the sitting room. The Inner circle looked to him with curious faces. “Rhys,” he strode over to kneel before his brother. “Y/n’s grave, it’s…”

Rhys showed his first sign of emotion in weeks. It was unreadable. He shot up from his seat and pushed past the group to the front door. Rhys broke out into a sprint in the pouring rain. They followed and didn’t stop until your grave came into sight.

He halted inches away from the ripped up ground. Dropping to his knees Rhys’s lip trembled as tears streamed down his face. He couldn’t scent another person. Just you. Only one thing was on his mind as he broke out into hysteric laughter.

There had been something off about your death- Rhys just couldn’t verbalize it until now. The mating bond wasn’t gone it was just…dull. Like it was waiting to wake up again. Azriel and Cassian wrapped Rhys in their arms tightly.

“She’s alive,” he forced out through laughter and tears. The group looked at each other concerned. Azriel’s shadows were swirling around like crazy. Covering your tombstone, the hole in the ground, and the ripped up grass around them.

They finally came back to rest by his shoulders. One circling his rounded ear. As the shadow whispered Azriel’s eyes widened at their report.

He looked to Cassian, bewildered. It was true. You are alive. And the shadows haven’t a clue where you went. They needed a plan. And there are too many questions.

—

You ended up at the bottom of the main stairs of the Forest House. The guards didn’t notice you until it was too late. You beheaded them, kicking the doors in.

Stomping down the hall you sliced through each guard you came across. Leaving a trail of blood to the throne room. One of Beron’s sons, you don’t know which one, didn’t care, tried to fight. You brought him down to his knees keeping a death grip around his throat with your arm.

Entering the throne room you climbed up the dais throwing the male down hard, your sword poised at his throat. Guards and other court members rushed in.

You didn’t flinch. Didn’t drop your scowl or lower your sword. You wouldn’t back down from Beron. “Bring me Beron Vanserra or he loses another son!” For emphasis you pushed your blade against the trembling males throat.

[starlightrosa]

Spa Days in Hell

And here it is, everyone! The meaty fic I warned everyone about! (I lost the ask, but this was anon request anyway <3)

Summary: Lucifer's wings need cleaning after he spent so long neglecting them. Charlie has to do it herself, despite knowing how sensitive he is there. Seems like Lucifer's in for one ticklish as hell spa day.

Word Count: 3k words... goddamn lmao.

Warnings: kinda intense tickles in some parts, Lucifer has six wings, swearing too, Angel Dust and his unique humour. Still SFW though :)

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

Lucifer nervously straightened his top hat and fiddled with his cane as he tried to look presentable in his room, in his castle on the edge of the Pride Ring. He was on the way to see his darling daughter Charlie, after so long of not seeing her or the new venture she had set up. To the king’s knowledge, it was supposed to be some kind of hotel to redeem wayward Sinners and send them to Heaven.

Lucifer knew what Heaven was really like. It was nice that Charlie was a dreamer, just like he used to be, but he just didn’t want to see his daughter get her dreams crushed by the angels above, much like they had crushed his dreams for humanity long ago.

“Okay, Lucifer. You got this. You’re seeing your daughter and what she’s been up to. Don’t fuck it up, Luci. Don’t fuck this up.” he repeated, his shoulders rolling back as he checked his wings. On any of the lucky days when he actually gave a shit, Lucifer would have refused to leave the house if his wings were anything less than pristine. But today, he just didn’t care how they looked.

Lucifer had his good days, and his bad days. Since landing in Hell, the bad days outweighed the good sometimes. Being cast out of Heaven and into Hell had sent Lucifer into a depression for a good while. While the sadness gnawed at his mind every day, he had gotten better at hiding it. But his wings had suffered as a result. Some feathers were broken, some were tangled, others were sharper than they should be and dug into the king’s back. To think some angels had only two to clean and take care of. But Lucifer had six fluffy appendages, all of them not being taken care of for perhaps longer than they should have been.

Well, he didn’t have time anyway. He just wouldn’t show anyone the wings. He couldn’t care less about his wings right now. Lucifer steeled himself and put on that confident smirk of his, as he grabbed his cane and took a deep breath, teleporting to the hotel address Charlie had given him.

The world shifted under his feet as Lucifer’s boots made contact with the streets of Pride. Overlooking Pentagram City was Charlie’s hotel. The “Hazbin” Hotel. Huh. What a weird name. Charlie was normally much better about naming stuff.

Well, Lucifer kept that thought to himself as he crossed over and knocked thrice on the door with his cane. Knock, knock, knock!

The door opened at once. Lucifer brought his cane down, resting both of his hands upon the top of the cane.

“Dad?” Charlie asked, looking a bit confused at his early arrival. Lucifer suspected she was expecting him to come a lot later. Oh no. For his daughter, he was determined to make up for all the stuff he had missed. Even if that meant arriving absurdly early before an agreed time.

“Ahh, there she is! There’s my Char-Char! How have you been doing? Good? Good, me too!” Lucifer cheered, giving Charlie a big kiss on the cheek, as he stepped into the hotel. It was… less than presentable, to put it nicely.

Lucifer felt that sharp pain in his back again, and he winced a little as he walked around.

“Are you alright, Dad?” Charlie asked, noticing her father’s movement. Lucifer looked back at his daughter, before he forced himself to smile, acting like his wings weren’t in utter agony from being neglected for so long.

“Oh, I’m fine, Charlie. Anyway, so how’s the business venture? Anyone important I need to meet? Got to make sure my daughter is being treated right by her patrons. Kindness and love and all that stuff.”

“Oh yeah. This way, Dad!” Charlie said, taking him off to see the others. “So the first one I want you to meet is Vaggie, my girlfriend. Vaggie, this is my father, Lucifer.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Your Highness.” Vaggie smiled, though Lucifer noticed the ‘X’ over her eye and indeed the angelic spear. If his wings were out right now, they would have puffed up to sense danger. Vaggie was an angel? A former Exorcist, no less. And they were dating? An Exorcist, COURTING his daughter?! The very idea felt absurd. But Lucifer smiled.

“Oh, you like girls! Why, I like them too! Glad to see we have so much in common! Put ‘er there, Maggie!” Lucifer smiled, not seeming to notice that he had gotten her name wrong as he swept Vaggie into a hug. His hidden wings twinged again, a painful reminder to Lucifer that he had to take care of them at some point. He grimaced, but buried his face into Vaggie’s shoulder.

Vaggie chuckled as she awkwardly patted Lucifer on the back before the king disengaged from the hug. Lucifer cleared his throat, and hummed.

“Who else?”

“Oh! So we have Husk, the bartender.” Charlie then said. Husk just grumbled a little, as was true to his character.

“Hello, your Royal Majesty.” Husk muttered, before drinking from a bottle of whiskey.

“The smiling demon over there is Alastor, who’s my business partner.” Charlie next said. Alastor had that trademark smile, but his eyes told a different story. He didn’t like the look of a being more powerful than him, sharing a room together.

“Good to put a face to the name. You are much shorter in real life. I would call you by your royal name, but ‘Your Highness’ seems woefully ironic, I’m sure you’ll agree. Your height just doesn’t justify such a regal way of recognition.” Alastor stated.

“Don’t go any further. Don’t want to say something that you’ll regret, Bambi.” Lucifer shot back, smiling smugly when Alastor’s deer ears flattened briefly, a soft growl leaving his eternally grinning mouth.

“Bambi? BAMBI? Why, you little-!” Alastor growled, his pupils briefly flickering into radio dials, before Charlie grabbed his arm.

“Calm down, Alastor. Dad, please don’t disrespect my business partner like that.” Charlie cut in, her eyes narrowing the slightest amount. Lucifer felt a little guilty, but he scoffed and continued on as Charlie continued the introductions.

“The spider demon is Angel Dust, a famous… actor.” Charlie said. “And the smaller woman running around is Niffty, our maid.”

Niffty waved playfully at Lucifer. “Hello, your Majesty!” she chirped, before seeing a bug scuttle past. The maid got a rather hungry look in her eye as she giggled manically, racing after the bug.

“Angel, come say hi to my father.”

“Your father, eh? Well, well. Hello, Daddy Morningstar~” Angel cooed, before flopping down on one of the lobby chairs and scrolling on his phone, flicking his white and pink hair. Lucifer coughed awkwardly.

“Okay… a charming character.” Lucifer murmured, before his wings twinged yet again, but the pain was sharp enough to make Lucifer turn away from Angel, and bite the back of his hand to stifle the pain. Charlie noticed her father’s pained expression.

“Dad? Are you okay?” Charlie asked, placing a hand upon her father’s back. Lucifer straightened up the best he could.

“Oh, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me, little apple. I’m okay.”

Charlie didn’t believe a single word that ran from her father’s mouth. She didn’t use her wings very much, but as a young girl, she had seen Lilith tending to Lucifer’s wings before. He only reacted this way if his wings needed care. Come to think of it, when had they last done that? When Lilith disappeared, Charlie had to step up and take care of Lucifer’s wings when he asked. She was more than happy to, but it had been a while.

“Dad, did you clean your wings up before you came out?” Charlie asked quietly, not wanting to embarrass her father in front of her patrons. Lucifer cleared his throat awkwardly again.

“Oh yes, Char-Char.” Lucifer lied. But the light eyebrow raise from Charlie indicated that she didn’t believe him.

“Dad, don’t lie to me.” Charlie stated. Vaggie looked worried. As a former angel, she knew that their wings being neglected would only serve to hurt.

“Your Majesty, would you like me to take care of your wings? I’ll be quick.” Vaggie offered.

“NO! I-I mean, um… no. Thank you, though.” Lucifer stammered, backing away from Vaggie. Charlie followed him, Alastor by her side while the others remained in the lobby.

“Dad, I insist you let me help. I can’t have you in pain and-” Charlie attempted to reason. But she was cut off as Lucifer’s fight or flight response triggered. Lucifer ran as fast as he could and up the steps to the second floor of the hotel.

But Charlie wasn’t about to accept that. “Alastor, help me catch him!”

“With pleasure, Princess.” Alastor shot back, grinning as the two gave chase.

Lucifer ran, hearing the footsteps of Charlie and Alastor not too far behind. Lucifer was a nervous giggler, and sure enough, bubbly giggles slipped past his lips as he ran away from his daughter and her business partner. He needed a place to hide.

But that thought was cut off as Alastor’s tentacles wrapped around him and pulled him back to where Charlie was. Lucifer attempted to break out of the grip, but there was no give as Alastor pulled Lucifer back to where he and Charlie stood.

“Your Royal Highness, it’s most rude to run away, you know. Rather cowardly, too.” Alastor mused.

“Now that is the pot calling the kettle black. Haven’t you been gone for like seven years, Bambi?” Lucifer snarked back, but while he was busy sassing, Charlie grabbed her father’s shoulders and rolled them back. Lucifer gasped sharply as his wings popped out, letting his daughter and Alastor see the damage.

“Oh my God… Dad, how long have you left these?” Charlie murmured.

“Quite a while, it seems.” Alastor mused.

“Charlie… don’t.” Lucifer pleaded. But Charlie shook her head.

“Dad, I have to help you. Please?”

“I-It hurts, little apple. But you’re so busy already. I can… I can do it myself.” Lucifer said.

“Clearly, you can’t.” Alastor interrupted, but he silenced himself when Charlie shot Alastor quite the angry look.

“Not helping, Alastor. Dad, please let me help you.” Charlie implored.

Lucifer really wanted to say no. But his wings were hurting so much. He had no choice, so begrudgingly, he agreed. Charlie grabbed her father’s hand and guided him to the lobby, pushing Lucifer to lie down on the sofa and helping him roll his shoulders back to get at his wings, as the patrons of the hotel watched this take place.

Charlie plunged her hands into Lucifer’s wings and began plucking the broken feathers. Lucifer sighed as she worked, allowing himself to relax a smidge. But then he began feeling it. As Charlie’s hands ghosted over his wings, the fluffy appendages began to tingle in a way that could only be… ticklish.

Lucifer pushed his head into his arms immediately, refusing to even look at anyone. And then Charlie’s hands ghosted into his shoulder blades and he gasped, tensing up even more as the tiniest giggle worked past his lips.

“Dad?” Charlie asked. “Are you-?” she began to say, only for a deep chuckle from Angel. He fluffed his hair back and smirked.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Seems the King of Hell is ticklish~!” Angel teased, smirking widely at Lucifer, who looked like a deer caught in headlights. Well, he was not getting out of this one.

“For once, Angel seems to say something that makes sense.” Alastor mused.

“I heard that!” Angel called, looking a bit put out.

“You were meant to, my dear.” Alastor fired back. Now Vaggie chuckled, as she slowly approached Charlie, who still had her hands in Lucifer’s neglected wings.

“I agree with Angel, and Alastor. Charlie, you can do the actual wing care. I’ll hold him, and everyone else can enjoy this kinda show. Sound fun, hon?” she asked, leaving no room for discussion as she sat on the sofa and got a good hold on Lucifer. No amount of wriggling could push the former Exorcist off of the King.

“A-All of you shut uhuhup!” Lucifer suddenly piped up, muffled giggles sinking into the plush red cushions of the sofa which he laid upon. Alastor chuckled, twirling his microphone.

“You know, everyone. I believe the King needs to get his temperament in check. Quite unbecoming for a ruler. Angel, get his sides, I’ll get his hips.”

“You got it, Smiles~” Angel cooed, before he grabbed Lucifer’s sides and squeezed rapidly. Lucifer was thrown into snorting giggles immediately as he kicked his legs behind him, laying on his front still. Charlie had clearly gotten stronger then he remembered, and Vaggie had him in a tight grip too. Double whammy.

“AAH! A-AHAHAHANGEL!” Lucifer cried out, squirming. He was then thrown into cackles as Alastor joined the fray, compressing Lucifer’s tender hipbones. “STOP THAHAHAT AT ONCE!” Lucifer tried demanding.

“Sorry, your Ticklishness~ oh, oops. I meant to say, Your Majesty.” Angel chuckled, pulling his hands away at once for a bit. Despite the playful mood, Lucifer was still the King, and he could probably snap his fingers and kill Angel in a damn heartbeat.

“Who knew the King of Hell was ticklish?” Vaggie chuckled, a soft smile on her face as she joined in the barrage of teasing, tickling under Lucifer’s chin lightly. Charlie grinned, her hands still buried in Lucifer’s wings as she took care of each one. Admittedly, slower than she would normally have done them, but it had been a good while since she had seen her father happy.

“CHAHAHAHARLIE!” Lucifer yelped, wiggling like a worm on the cushions, his wings flapping from her precise (and very fucking ticklish) touches. Most in the lobby were lost in laughter, whether that was Lucifer’s tickle-induced giggles, or everyone else giggling along with Lucifer.

“I forgot how ticklish you were, Dad.” Charlie laughed. Alastor chuckled and approached now.

“Now, now. Your Royal Ticklish Majesty, don’t be hiding your face. Let us see the laughter worthy of his Highness~” Alastor coaxed, using his voodoo tentacles to tickle Lucifer under the arms. A loud snort from the king immediately and his hands fell away from his face.

“HAHAHAHA! B-BEHEHEHELLHOP, CEASE THIHIHIS!” Lucifer squealed.

“Budge over, Smiles. I wanna see if I can make his wings flap~” Angel drawled, the spider demon moving. Alastor graciously fell back and allowed Angel access immediately. The gloves were off, quite literally, as Angel peeled off his gloves and shoved them into the king’s wings, and Lucifer was thrown into cackles as he felt Angel’s spider fuzz right on his newly groomed top set of wings, while Charlie was working at the middle set now.

“T-TOO TIHIHICKLY, CHARLIE!” Lucifer shrieked, squirming for all he was worth. Charlie chuckled and allowed her father a quick break.

“I know, Dad. But you left your wings so long. I have to set everything back in order.” Charlie reasoned as she finished the middle set. Lucifer groaned through his giggles as he settled his very red face on the top of his arms.

“Alright, Dad. Just the lowermost set to do now. But I know you’re wiggly with those ones. Alastor, do me a favour and hold his wings still.” Charlie said. Alastor chuckled lowly, the lowest radio feedback noise coming from him.

“Of course, Princess.” Alastor said, placing his microphone safely out of the way as he reached forward and snagged Lucifer’s wings, stretching out the lowermost set to allow Charlie to get at them. Vaggie adjusted her hold on Lucifer too, as Charlie dived in.

“AAH! SHIHIHIHIT!!!” Lucifer screeched, falling into hysterical laughter as he tried twisting as much as he could, his body trying to escape from the tickles, but ultimately getting nowhere due to both Vaggie and Alastor’s grips on him, and Charlie sitting upon his legs wasn’t helping either.

“Tickle tickle, Your Highness~” Vaggie teased, snickering. He sounded less terrifying when she saw him like this. Who knew her girlfriend’s father could be so… strangely adorable?

“SHUHUHUT UP!” Lucifer barked, cackling louder as Charlie gasped above him.

“Hey! Don’t you talk to my girlfriend like that, Dad!” she responded, vibrating her fingers into Lucifer’s wings to be mean for a little. Lucifer wheezed loudly, falling into near-silent, open mouthed cackles.

“I’M SOHOHOHORRY! I’M SOHO SOHOHORRY!” Lucifer shrieked. “EHEHEHENOUGH, LIHITTLE AHAHAPPLE! ENOUGH, PLEHEHEASE! I CAHAHAN’T!”

The wing tickles ceased as a gentler hand replaced the ticklish touches, working quickly enough for Lucifer to not register the tickling. His wings were buzzing with sensitivity and the leftover giggles from Lucifer littered the room.

“So damn cute.” Angel murmured, smirking lightly. Alastor gave a silent nod, in agreement to Angel as Charlie finally finished cleaning up her father’s wings after about what had to be a total of ten minutes and climbed off of him. But to Lucifer, it felt like hours as he was finally allowed to close his wings. He sat up and rubbed at his eyes, feeling tears within them.

“T-That was so bad…” Lucifer murmured, shivering from ticklishness briefly. His wings were finally taken care of, and they had regained their glossy sheen on every set.

“Dad, please take care of your wings next time.” Charlie smiled, grinning at her father’s ticklish grin. He definitely looked like he had been tickled silly.

“I’d hate to see this happen again to you, Your Ticklishness~” Alastor said, in a tone that Lucifer could tell that Alastor wanted this to happen again very much.

“Once I get my strehehength back, ahall of you are goddamned dehehead.” Lucifer responded, even as he ascended to a spare room in the hotel. “You will be first, Bambi.” Lucifer muttered, as he all but fell into bed.

As sleep took him away to dreamland, Lucifer’s grin never melted off of his face as his wings fluttered softly in his slumber. Deserved after all that very mean tickling, and even in his dreams, Lucifer couldn’t recall the last time he had smiled so freely. Maybe he could tangle his wings on purpose next time, after he was done exacting some sweet revenge. And the bellhop would be first.

The End!

[bad268]

If You Only Knew

Aftermath Affair Pt. 3

(Ex! Lando Norris X Reader + Oscar Pisatri X Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Nope, happy 5 years!

Warnings: Not saying Lando cheated (!! It's fiction !!), depressing thoughts, passive suicidal remarks, listen to the song first and decide if you can handle it. HEAVILY based on the song by Alexander Stewart

POV: Second Person (You/your/They/them)

W.C. 1229

Chapter Summary: The direct aftermath after coming to terms with the affair.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

<-Part 2

~~(^Both from Pinterest)

You didn’t want to believe it. How could your sweet, caring, amazing boyfriend cheat on you? It was not in the cards for you. You talked about getting married. You talked about having kids. How could he fuck it all up?

How could Ava? It does take two to tango, and you remembered meeting her clearly. You had gone to the newest Quadrant merch photoshoot, and Ria introduced you as Lando’s future spouse to Ava. Looking back, you remember the sneer on her face, and when you asked, she said it was a strong smell or something that irritated her. God, you should have said something!

You had spent the last week thinking everything over, and it seemed just as bad as the first day. Thankfully, Lando had to go to Woking after the last race, so he hasn’t come home yet. Then, he was going to visit his family and Max before coming back to the apartment for the last bit of the summer break. 

Your head was spinning, and the room was spinning. It was a bad idea, looking back, but alcohol was the only thing numbing the pain at this point. It’s been hard trying to move on. You accepted that your relationship was over, but that’s seven years you grew with Lando by your side. 

Now, suddenly, you didn’t know who you were. You were completely lost. 

Some part of you felt guilty. Maybe you did something to make him cheat in the first place. Maybe he wasn’t happy with your sex life, and that’s why he went to Ava. 

You tried to see the good in it, but it was too hard. You kept all of this pain inside you because you didn't want to burden anyone. Your family would say they told you so. They never supported your relationship with Lando. Most of your friends were also friends of Lando, and they would side with him. Your other friends would probably laugh in your face.

You were all alone to face this. 

You wanted to tell your subscribers. They started to notice your mood drop, and they were getting concerned. You wanted to yell from the rooftops that Lando Norris is a cheater, but you couldn’t. That’s defamation because you don't have solid evidence. You wanted to tell anyone who would listen, but you didn't want to beg for attention.

You just wanted to be heard. You wanted to be seen. You wanted to do anything. 

You wanted to tell Oscar, but you didn't want him to worry. He would probably drop everything to get you out of the apartment, but he’s with Lando in Woking. The last thing you needed was Lando peaking at Oscar’s phone and seeing your name. So you pretend to be fine.

Until it all came crashing down with an incoming phone call. 

Oscar Piastri

You debated answering it. You were still on the verge of blacking out from how much alcohol you drank. You could barely move, so you let the phone ring out.

Moments later, another call came through.

Oscar Piastri

Again, you let it ring out as your vision started fading in the corners. If this was your end, you were ready for it. You weren’t sure how you were meant to live after this. You just felt so lost. Your thoughts were once again interrupted by another call. 

Oscar Piastri

You finally found the strength to turn your head to look at the notifications. 24 missed calls from Oscar and 13 texts, ranging from asking if you were okay to him asking if he needs to show up. After the last call rang out, making it 25 missed calls, a text came through.

“I’m coming over, and I know where the spare key is.”

The last thing you wanted was to have Oscar see you in this state. You struggled to grab your phone and clumsily hit the notification for the missed call. It immediately redialed Oscar’s number. It didn’t take more than two rings for him to answer.

“Are you okay? Why didn’t you answer?” He rushed out. You could tell he was in a car by the background noise, but you didn't actually listen to what he was saying. You couldn’t form words and you felt like you were struggling to breathe as you let out a choked sob. There were no tears at this point, but it still felt as draining. Oscar decided to change up his approach, “Hey, tell me what’s going on.”

“If you only knew,” You trailed off, your voice quiet and hoarse as you chuckled at your situation. “If you only knew what my mind is telling me I should do.”

“Are you safe? Where are you?” He pushed for your answer.

“I’m drunk and all alone in my room,” You answered weakly, spacing out and staring at the ceiling. You can vaguely hear Oscar ask something, but you’re too focused on nothing. “I’m too sad to cry, my brain is putting me through some shit, and I don’t know anything anymore. I’m sorry, but you said to text you if I need you. Well, I need you.”

“I’m almost there, just breathe for me please,” He tried to drive faster but the cars on the road were making it impossible.

“If you only knew,” You were hyperventilating but there was no stopping the word waterfall once it started. “I’m constantly overwhelmed. I wish I was someone else. I wish I had called for help sooner. I am falling and I can’t stop. I don’t know what I should be doing. I don't know who I am. I wanna get better, Oscar, I do, but I don’t know where I’m going. I want you to know, I admit it, I can’t do this on my own, Oscar. This is my plea for help. Please, I need you.”

You were finally able to let all of the feelings out. It felt good being able to cry for once. Oscar just had to listen in agony that he wasn’t there to help you at that moment. He had just pulled into the apartment lot and found a parking spot before running into the building to get let up to your apartment floor. 

You were still breathing heavily and unevenly when Oscar came running straight into your room, wrapping his arms around your shaking form. He was grounding you, and helping coax your breathing back to a normal pace. However, you still had something to get off your chest.

“Oscar, take me out of this hell,” You cried as you looked up at him and held his face in your hands. “I need you to help me out of here. I can't keep living like this. I don’t care how, but I need to get out of this hell. If you don’t, I will. I can’t do this anymore, Oscar, please.” You trailed off before leaning your head against his chest as all of your anger finally dissolved. 

“I’ll take you anywhere you wanna go,” He whispered as he held all of your weight against him. He felt so bad that he was (in a way) the cause of your pain, but he couldn’t stand seeing you live blissfully unaware of the deception Lando was causing you. He vowed that night to help you in any and every way possible.

~~~ Part 4 ->

~~

Tags- @barcelonaloverf1life

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 12

Welcome back to another addition of Dustin being absolutely chaotic as fuck and Robin inserts herself into a dangerous situation because she has to out sass an eighth grader.

This story really is nearing in the end of season 3, and I don't think this story will go for much longer than that. So it will probably be the next story I finish.

What this means is that soon I'll be starting up "The Hellfire Erotic Club" as I am already two chapters into sugar baby!Steve and sugar daddy!Eddie so that one is next on the docket. And as it sounds, it absolutely will be mature. It might even be my first explicit story I've written. So let me know if you want to be kept off the list for that one.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

~

Things mellowed out with Robin at work. She still had the YOU RULE/YOU SUCK board, but at least wasn’t throwing out snide comments and sneering glances every two seconds so Steve absolutely counted that as a win.

And he continued to flirt badly. The worst was when Eddie and Jeff had stopped by after touring the music store.

“It’s the hat,” Steve said with moue. “It’s ruining my best feature.”

Robin snorted. “Your best feature? You don’t have one.”

Steve rolled his eyes and took off the hat. “My hair is my best feature, of course. I was the Hair in school, after all.” He threw it off the side and did a mocking shimmy with his shoulders before heading to register to greet a group of giggling girls.

“Hello, ladies,” he said smoothly. “My name is Steve and I’ll be your captain on this journey on the ocean of flavor. What can I get you today?” And then to really sell it. He winked.

The girls as he expected were completely turned off and hurried to get away as soon as possible. But hey at least Jeff got the number of one of the girls. So yay, gay wingman for the win! Or whatever.

Eddie came loping up to the counter, Jeff close on his heels. “That has got to be the most depressing thing I have ever had the misfortune to witness.”

“Seriously dude,” Jeff said with a wince. “Your mojo must have got up and went. Holy shit.”

Steve just pursed his lips and waved vaguely in Eddie’s direction. Eddie and Jeff giggled, but Robin frowned in confusion.

“Why does Munson being here affect your flirting?” she asked. “Because from what I’ve seen it doesn’t matter if he’s here or not, your flirting is always bad.”

He just shrugged. “Maybe the PTA is right and Eddie can cast evil spells and cursed me.”

Eddie wiggled his fingers at her, but she just rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. If he could cast spells Mrs. O’Donnell would be dead by now.”

The three boys cackled.

“Or maybe,” Jeff said seriously, “the girls remember Stevie here hanging out with us freaks and geeks last year and think he’s suddenly beneath him. You know, now that he’s not King Steve anymore?”

Robin’s mouth open and closed like a fish before she snapped it shut with an audible click. She blushed a dark red and was grateful that a mother with her two young sons came in just then so she could avoid the awkwardness that followed.

“I’m off in five minutes,” Steve said, “if you two want to wait around?”

Eddie and Jeff shared a glance and then Eddie nodded. “Sure, we could hang out for a bit.”

“Yeah,” Jeff said with a half shrug. “I don’t have anything to do today.”

Steve moved off to the side to start scooping the lady’s order. He gave each of the kids a cone and the sundae to the mom. Then he tossed the scooper into the warm water they kept nearby to keep the scooper clean. He walked to the back and returned within seconds.

Just then the power went out. Steve sighed and went over to the light switch. He flipped it up and down.

“That didn’t work two days ago,” Robin hissed. “And it’s not going to work now.”

Eddie peered at Steve through the dark. “This happened a couple of days ago, too?”

“It’s because of how hot it is outside,” Steve said. “Which makes the AC run overtime and it blows the breaker.” He sounded like he was repeating something someone else said as he continued to flip the switch and then the lights came back on. Just as Steve was about to leave again, Dustin came running up to Steve, skidding to a stop when he saw Robin, Eddie, and Jeff standing there.

“Hey, guys,” he said with a strained smile on his face. “Can I talk to Steve for a moment? I won’t take up much of his time. I promise.”

That got Steve’s hackles up. He turned to Eddie and begged him with his eyes to understand what this meant. Eddie tilted his head to the side for a moment, before his mouth formed an ‘O’.

“Jeff and I will be at Suncoast Video,” he said, “we’ll be there when you’re done.”

Jeff blinked at him for a moment trying to decide if it was the worth the fight. Then he shrugged and followed Eddie away from the strange tableau behind them.

Robin eyed them suspiciously as the two boys went to go sit down.

“What’s up, bud?” Steve asked, a nervous chill sliding down his spine. Please don’t be the Upside Down. Please don’t be the Upside Down. Please don’t be the Upside Down.

“So because my ma doesn’t want me racking up her phone bill calling Suzie,” he said, “I put up, with a little help from Lucas, Will, and Mike, a communications tower so we could talk.”

Because of course they did. They were geniuses when it came to building that kind of shit, but not so much in why they shouldn’t.

“And there was this weird Russian transmission,” Dustin explained hurriedly. “I don’t want to show you the recording yet, not with so many people around. But I can I meet up at your place later tonight?”

Steve was about to turn the kid down. After all, he had tried the hero racket and it blew. All he got for his troubles was ringing in his ears and the biggest break up of his life.

“Just think, if we solve this then we can be celebrated for exposing a Communist plot!” he exclaimed. “We could be American heroes, Steve!”

Oh. That did sound nice. There was no chance of him putting his body on the line for a recording in Russia after all. “Sure thing, bud.”

~

There was no keeping the stupid little transmission from Eddie or Robin. The first one wasn’t a surprise, really. Eddie was attached to Steve’s hip like he’d always been right there. Robin was more of a shock, to be honest. She just inserted herself where she didn’t belong on sheer sass alone.

Because Dustin had all the tact of a bull in a china shop, he had been whining about not being able to translate the message. When suddenly the window to the back slid open with a slam.

“You do know you’re in public, right?” she huffed. “If you’re trying to being sneaky about it, you’re failing miserably.”

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Like you’re so smart.”

Robin raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “And how many languages do you speak, dork?”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance, then tried to stifle a laugh, Steve by biting his lip and Eddie by shoving his hair in front of his face.

“Two!” Dustin huffed, puffing out his chest. “Binary and English.”

“Binary doesn’t count,” Robin said, rolling her eyes. “You can’t ‘speak’ it. I speak French, Spanish, and Italian. That’s four.”

Dustin crossed his arms. “Does to and besides I didn’t hear Russian on that list.”

She tilted her head and smirked. “And how do you even know it’s Russian?”

Dustin’s jaw dropped to the floor and his eyes bulged out of his head.

“Just because it sounds ‘Russian’,” Robin said, using air quotes around the word Russian, “doesn’t mean it’s not some other Slavic language.”

Dustin’s bottom lip quivered. “And how many Slavic languages are there?”

Her grin turned feral and she leaned on the counter, looking him dead in the eye. “Eighteen if you don’t count the different dialects for each region, then you’re looking at something closer to twenty-five.”

“There’s no way there’s that many!” Dustin cried.

Steve bumped his shoulder into his. “Why don’t you let her hear it? What’s the worst thing that could happen? That she doesn’t recognize the language? It’d be no different from where we are now.”

“Come on, Dusty,” Eddie implored. “Or do I have to tell Suzie that you think girls aren’t as smart as boys?”

Dustin turned to glare at the older teen. “That’s a low blow, man.”

He looked over at Robin who was eyeing him expectantly and sighed. “Fine, here.” He handed her the portable tape deck and sat back to watch.

The message came through the small device and Robin listened to the whole thing, before rewinding it and playing it again.

“So what do you think?” Dustin asked after her third listen through. “Is it Russian?”

“Oh yeah,” she said with a smirk. “And probably in code.”

But before Dustin could answer, Eddie leaned on the front counter. He had been watching Steve the whole time Robin had been listening to the recording. When she got to the end, Steve would frown. Even with half of a banana stuffed in his cheeks like a chipmunk.

“What’s on your mind, Stevie?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.

“There’s something about the music,” he muttered, tapping his fingers and humming the tune.

Dustin huffed. “Can you please pay attention to the important part, Steve? The apparently secret coded message in Russian?”

Steve shoved the rest of the banana in his mouth and chewed silently. He swallowed roughly and asked Robin to play the music again.

“Steve!” Dustin snapped. “What did I just say?”

Eddie glared at him. “Shut it, kid.” And Eddie began to listen to the music, too. Then Steve and Eddie made eye contact as they both got it at the same time.

Steve grabbed Dustin’s wrist and dragged him out of the ice cream shop, Eddie fast on their heels. They reached the Merry-Go-Round and Steve tried to pull out a couple of quarters but they fell to the ground. He bent to pick them up, but Eddie shoved a couple of quarters from his pocket into Steve’s hands.

Steve put the quarters into the Merry-Go-Round, while Eddie and Dustin stood by. Eddie smiled, smug and Dustin stood there, glowering at Steve, arms crossed.

The carousel roared to life. And then music started.

Dustin’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what?”

Steve and Eddie shared a grin.

“That’s the music from the recording!” he continued. “How did you recognize it?”

Eddie laughed.

“Because I hear it at least two or three times a shift,” Steve said, putting his hands on his hips. “It’s hard to miss because it’s so loud and so close to Scoops Ahoy.”

Dustin frowned and pouted because he had thought that Steve was just being his usual spacy self. But he actually figured it out.

As the three of them walked back to the ice cream shop, he said, “All that tells us is that Russians like carousels.”

Steve and Eddie shared a glance over his head.

“That’s an Indiana Flyer carousel,” Steve said slowly. “As in they only make them in Indiana.”

Dustin stopped short and his eyes widened in fear. “Does that mean they’re here in the state?”

Eddie shook his head. “Worse than that, Dusty. I’m pretty sure they’re here in the mall.”

Steve’s heart sank. He had been hoping that they would be able to solve this without getting directly involved, but that had just flown away like a startled butterfly.

Now all he had to do was convince himself that the Russians weren’t in Hawkins for the gateways to the Upside Down.

It was going to be a tough sell and he knew deep down it was never going to stick.

There were Russians in Hawkins and they were most likely here for Hell.

~

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: FIVE SLOTS REMAINING!

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @blondie1006

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades

7- @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @acingthecounts

8- @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts

9- @clockworkballerina @bluelightsinthevoid @blcksh33p1987 @i-go-pink-in-the-night @mamafaithful

[jflemings]

— let the light in [p3]

pairing: jessie fleming x reader part 1, part 2

synopsis: you finally let the light in

warnings: depression, talks of suicide, self sabotage if you squint, feelings of shame

as soon as casey gets in her car, jessie runs back into her flat and grabs her keys and phone. she’s got one shoe on and is halfway out the door when she stops herself and turns around, walking towards the shelf next to her couch. she fingers through the small maple leaf trinket tray until she finds the spare key she had forgotten to give back to you, gripping in tightly in her hand as she slips her other shoe on and walks out the door.

she parks her car on the curb and shields her face from the rain that had started on her drive over, cursing herself for wearing a pair of black canada football shorts when a particularly cold gust of wind flows through her.

jessie walks into your building shivering and clutching your spare key in her right hand. she can feel the teeth on the key digging into her palm as she steps into the elevator and presses the button to your floor. shockwaves of nerves hit her almost rhythmically and she has to wipe her sweaty palms on her jumper.

the elevator door opens and in steps shelley, the old woman pushing her glasses up her nose “jessie!” she exclaims before frowning “you coming to see y/n?”

the canadian half shrugs “hopefully”

shelley smiles and pats jessie’s shoulder “it’s good that you’re here” she says as the elevator moves again, stopping at your floor “she needs ya”

all she can do is swallow the lump in her throat and nod once, walking up to your door and knocking twice. she doesn’t get a response, like she knew she wouldn’t, so she knocks again. and again. and again just the way you hate it so hopefully you get out of bed and answer her.

the door cracks slightly and half of your face peers out “jessie you need to leave” you croak.

“no.” she argues much to your surprise “i talked to casey”

she hears you curse under your breath and places a hand on your door “y/n please” she manages to get out before you go to slam the door in her face. she quickly slots her foot in the door and presses harder “you don’t have to let me in, fuck, you don’t even have to talk to me but at least call and let her know you’re not dead” she says harshly, her eyebrows furrowing when you don’t say anything. “your boss was going to call the police to do a welfare check. casey sent me instead”

“i’m fine”

jessie pushes against the door harder, her foot still slotted between the doorframe and the threshold of you apartment "please" she pleads "all I want to do is help you. that's it"

tears well in your eyes at the thought of jessie seeing the state your apartment is in right now. you look behind you pathetically before shaking your head 'jess-"

"it's okay" she cuts you off quietly "you don't have to feel ashamed about it"

you wipe stray tears with the back of your hand "it's really bad" you mumble "I haven't, uhm, been taking very good care of myself"

the canadian pushes the door a little bit more seeing that you've begun to take your weight off it. her face softens "I'm not here to judge you or to make you feel bad for what you're going through. I just wanna help you get back on your feet"

biting your lip, you finally give in. you hang your head in shame as you let jessie slowly push your front door open and into your mess of an apartment. dread overwhelms you when she doesn’t say anything and just looks around, her eyes scanning each nook and cranny of your space before landing back on you.

you can’t — won’t — look her in the eye, choosing to instead pick at your cuticles as you continue to hold the door open. your grip on the handle tightens until your knuckles are white and you can feel more tears begin to stream down your face.

her hand cradles your face and she wipes her thumb under your eye “look at me” she coaxes, ducking her head ever so slightly “you have nothing to be ashamed of.”

you lip quivers as you nod and she removes her hand from your face, returning them to her sides. you push the door close and lean against it watching she jessie’s hands flex at her side. the two of you stand opposite eachother for a few moments before she reaches for you and you fall into her arms sobbing.

“i-i’m so sorry”

jessie’s hand runs up and down your back “i told you—”

“no i’m sorry for not telling you. i’m sorry for shutting you out” you cry as she places a hand on top of your head “i thought i was doing what was best for you”

jessie stays quiet as sobs wrack your body, tears begin to form in her own eyes at the thought of you putting her first when you were the one that needed help. she was angry, so angry, with herself for letting you do that. for letting you walk out of her apartment that day.

you grip the back of her jumper tightly “i wanted to push you away before… before you realised that i was too hard to love”

“never” jessie says confidently and sternly, pulling you out of her shoulder so she can look at you “never. you are never too hard to love”

“you haven’t seen the worst of it jessie. i don’t eat, i either sleep all day or not at all, my place is a fucking pigsty and i barely have the energy to shower!” you push her hands off frustratedly “does that sound like someone who’s easy to love”

“it sounds like someone who needs some love” she says softly.

you pause and the tension eases from your face. your fingers twitch where they’re holding jessie’s wrist and you look up at your ceiling, blinking away tears.

she takes your hands in her own “c’mon, i’ll run you a hot bath”

you let jessie lead you to your ensuite and cringe at the state of your room but she doesn’t even spare the mess a glance. instead she turns on the bath, finds you a clean towel and some clean clothes and urges you to get in. you get undressed slowly, suddenly feeling very exposed as she grabs the shampoo and conditioner out of your shower.

the water is steaming when you get in and you immediately relax at the comforting feeling. sighing, you duck your head under the water and resurface to find jessie sitting on the ground, one arm leaning on the bath. you turn the tap off once you’re sure the bath is full enough.

“do you want me to wash your hair?”

“yes please”

jessie gets you to turn around and lathers shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp and dragging the remaining shampoo down to your ends. she then gets you to duck your hair back under the water as she sits up on her knees, looming over you so she can rinse it all out. next, the canadian grabs a comb from under your sink and applies a generous amount of conditioner to your hair, rubbing it in and beginning to gently detangle the knots.

for the most part the room is silent except for the sound the water makes when you move. you close your eyes and allow yourself to be enveloped in the feeling of jessie’s hands running through your hair once again “jess”

jessie hums from behind you, the comb still threading through your ends.

“you- uhm, you saved my life. when we met”

jessie stops momentarily to look over your shoulder at you “what do you mean?”

“i was only at the coffee shop because my machine broke that morning” you sigh, suddenly afraid that you shouldn’t be telling her this. “i had been giving away my stuff for weeks beforehand because i picked out a day to… to end my life”

the canadian stops combing through your hair and you hear the piece of plastic be placed onto the tiles. jessie tucks your wet hair behind your ear and slightly pushes your shoulders so you turn to face her. you cover yourself by bringing your knees to your chest as she leans on the edge of the bath again, urging you to continue.

“i had a note written and the things i had left were organised for when my apartment was going to be cleared out. i had planned to go back to home and take my own life, but then you invited me to sit down and we talked, and you said that you wanted to see me again.” you cock your head, your voice shaky as you continue “and i never told you, swore that i never would, because that’s a lot of responsibility to have, to be the reason that someone didn’t kill themselves and to be honest i don’t even know why i’m telling you this because it’s nothing you actually need to know an—”

“y/n” jessie cuts off your face paced, run-on rambling softly, putting her hand on your knee “breathe”

you take a few deep breaths “i’m sorry. that’s a lot”

“not for me” she whispers “it’s never a lot for me”

“please stop saying never” you whisper breathlessly “that’s a big thing to say”

“i don’t care” she tells you “i’m being honest with you. you have never been to hard to love, or too much. you are the easiest person to love, and there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you” she pauses to stroke your cheek “except help plan your funeral” she says sadly, swiping under your eyes again “please don’t make me do that for you.”

you nod and hold onto her hand that’s resting on your cheek “i won’t”

jessie places a firm kiss on your forehead and then stands “if you need me i’ll be right outside, okay? i’m gonna shut the door to give you some privacy but just call if you need anything”

“okay” you mumble as she smiles and shuts the door, leaving you to make ripples in the water.

as soon as jessie shuts the bathroom door she’s opening your curtains and stripping your bed. she pulls off the covers and pillow cases and then picks up all the clothes off your floor, stuffing them into the duvet cover before throwing it onto your stopped bed. she takes all the dirty dishes out to the kitchen, setting them down before looking under the sink for your cleaning supplies. retreating back to your bedroom, she makes quick work of wiping down all the surfaces and putting things back where she knows they belong. she sprays, wipes and dusts everything in her sight, not once slowing down.

part of her thinks she’s going so fast because she’s so angry at the world. she’s angry because you are the best person she’s ever met, the love of her life, and the world has let you feel as though you were nothing. the midfielder doesn’t let up her cleaning as she grabs all the rubbish that’s accumulated in your bin, throwing it in a plastic bag near by.

she takes the rubbish out to the kitchen and the duvet of dirty laundry into your small laundry closet before grabbing you some fresh sheets. she makes your bed and fluffs your pillows, only satisfied when it looks perfect. jessie vacuums every inch of floor in your room until she is satisfied, nodding her head once before moving out to the kitchen and living room.

she sets the vacuum aside and loads your dishwasher up, choosing to hand wash whatever dishes don’t fit. anything she can’t scrub clean gets chucked out and she reminds herself to take you shopping to replace it. she fills up another trash bag full of rubbish before she completely unloads your fridge and wipes it down so the lingering smell of off food wont hit you when you open it. when she realises just how much food she’s had to throw out, she pulls out her phone and opens her notes app to start a checklist of things she has to do.

☐ buy new plates

☐ go grocery shopping

☐ new bed sheets

satisfied with her list for the moment, she pockets her phone and moves to the pantry, turning to get retrieve her cleaning cloth when she sees you standing in the hallway. you’re dressed in her chelsea jumper from last season and a pair of black cotton shorts, your damp hair tucked behind your ears as you stare at her wide eyed.

“jessie”

the canadian shakes her head “i told you, i’m here to help. let me help”

“you don’t have to though” you attempt to reason with her, your eyes darting around your suddenly clean kitchen.

jessie rounds the kitchen island to you and grabs your elbow “i want to”

“thank you” you kiss her cheek “i’ll do the pantry”

jessie nods as you open the doors and grab a rubbish bag, cringing as you check the expiry dates on things before tossing them. she grabs the vacuum and does the kitchen floor before doing the rug in your living room, picking up things as she goes and putting them in her rightful place.

she can’t help but spare glances at you as she does. the sight of you clean and up and moving makes her smile slightly knowing that you haven’t been. your cheeks are tear stained and you sniffle every so often, but you continue to clean. you put away the dishes that aren’t in the dishwasher and you throw dirty kitchen towels aside to be washed, you spray and wipe down the benches before tossing another half full bag of rubbish on the pile that’s accumulating by the door.

jessie stops vacuuming in favour of dusting. she does the coffee table, the tv cabinet and the windowsill before moving over to your bookshelf. the trinkets that litter it get cleaned delicately, each and every one not getting put back onto the shelf until jessie is sure they’re free of dust.

she smiles at the things that she got you still being displayed. a picture of the two of you at christmas, a ceramic koala she got you during the world cup, a snow globe that she got from a gift shop in toronto, your polaroid camera and the photo you took of her when you first got it. little items that all played a part in your relationship, each one holding a little story that made up your big one.

the spare key she still hasn’t given back burns a hole in her pocket and she’s suddenly reminded of the fact that the two of you are in fact not together.

a frown flashes across her face before you walk over to her. you tilt your head and adjust the position of the koala slightly before grazing your fingers over the books on your shelf. jessie fishes out the key from her pocket and hands it to you “i forgot to give you this when—” she interrupts herself “before.”

you look between her and the key that she’s trying to give back to you. you pause for a moment before clasping her hand around it “keep it”

“i didn’t come here to try to pressure you into getting back with me” jessie tries to tell you.

“i know but i want you to keep it. it’s yours”

jessie’s heart flutters as she puts the key back in her pocket. you nod you head to the couch and sit down, patting the spot beside you wordlessly. jessie sits next to you and you lace your fingers together.

“it’s hard jess, loving someone with mental illness. it can be really draining” you explain softly “wherever we go from here, that’s up to you. i’m going to have bad days, and sometimes i’m going to get so far in my own head that i can’t pull myself back out” you squeeze her hand and your eyes soften the way they do when you look at jessie.

“i know” she tells you, wearing an identical look to yours “but i’m not fucking around. you are the easiest person to love, and i am more than willing to do it for the rest of my life”

“that’s not something to say lightly jess”

“i know. i’m just being honest” she shrugs slightly “please”

you purse your lips to suppress a smile “okay”

jessie’s face splits into a grin and she kisses your cheek quickly, watching you drown as you roll your eyes and grasp the side of her face. your thumb stokes her cheekbone as you kiss her softly and slowly. it reminds her of the first time you kissed, you saw how nervous she was when dropping you home after your third date and you rolled your eyes and leant over her centre console, grasping her cheek and pausing before letting your lips meet her own softly.

she had gone to bed giddy that night, the butterflies not subsiding even when she went to training the next day.

similarly to then, butterflies erupt in her stomach and flutter all through her insides. “i want you to tell me when you feel like this, even if you think you’ve got it handled. it doesn’t matter if you think it’s too much, all i ask is that you don’t bottle it up”

“i’m going to start seeing my therapist again”

“and that’s good, but i don’t want you walking around thinking you have to do it on your own because you don’t. you’ve never had to” she squeezes your hand and you squeeze hers back just as tight.

“okay” you nod “i promise”

jessie smiles and kisses you again.

“c’mon” you say before standing “the rubbish needs to be put out and then i need to find something that can be eaten for dinner”

“we’ll order in. thai sound good to you?”

your eyes soften “thai sounds great”

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse

Eddie became an accidental millionaire, coming up with creative content for a video game for his techy best bud Dustin. It's great at first… but not his dream. He winds up living in a hotel room, depressed he let his music hopes slip.

Steve, meanwhile, works in the hotel, and is desperately in debt for medical bills. When his boss asks him to get a male hooker for the ‘freak in the penthouse,' he can’t really let the ‘chance’ pass. After all, the 'freak' didn't look so bad to him, and he's done this kind of thing before when he had to...

Set in the early 90s with some period-typical homophobia. Shamelessly trope-y! This will probably go up to ‘E’ rated next chapter, but ‘M’ for now as this chapter isn’t too spicy yet ;)

also here on AO3 or search the tumblr tag #thefreakinthepenthouse

Chapter one: the freak

Eddie lingered in that warm, fuzzy twilight zone between sleep and wakefulness. He didn’t want to wake up.

His dream—at least, the parts of it trickling back to him—had been hot, hot, hot. He’d been killing it live to an insane sell-out crowd at the Hollywood Bowl and…

…what the hell?

More of Eddie’s dream filtered back. The part which explained his epic boner. He’d not been thrashing out a nine-minute-long power ballad. On that dream-stage, in front of that sell-out crowd, he’d been fucking a deadly hot, deadly cute guy.

Holy shit! That’s almost as unbelievable as anybody paying to come see me play.

He began to wake up for real. A keening sound escaped his throat. On the other hand, the joys of the night hadn’t quite evaporated.

Possibly because he’d gotten his nose buried in a mass of slightly sticky hair. 

He was spooning ANOTHER GUY.

The reality of last night rushed back. Every muscle in Eddie’s body locked up. Wow, wow, wow! And also, Shiiiiiit! 

Steve. That was the guy’s name. Eddie rubbed his nose in the nape of Steve’s neck, inhaling cheap hair gel.

Steve had been good. He’d kissed like a demon and offered up that to-die-for ass like a fallen angel. Eddie recalled rutting deep into Steve’s tight, pulsating body, till sweat stung his eyes. Yup, pure carnal pleasure was a decent distraction from being rich beyond your wildest dreams and too miserable as fuck to enjoy it.

On the flip-side, Eddie had few gripes about life at this particular moment. Slowly, careful not to wake Steve, Eddie crawled an arm over him, wandering fingers through the tangle of hair on Steve’s chest.

Bleeeeeep.

Steve cried, “Wha—?” and sat bolt upright, whacking Eddie’s arm out of the way. He blinked around, raking soft curls from his eyes. Damn. Steve was even cuter with his hair all natural, no longer slicked back.

Steve glanced at his watch and silenced the bleeps. “Crap! I’m on shift for breakfast. Gotta go.”

Steve was rushing around the room already, butt naked. Eddie sighed longingly at Steve’s ass. When Steve yanked some dark blue uniform pants from his knapsack and pulled them on, Eddie sighed even harder.

His focus drifted to the enormous clock-face painted directly onto the hideous pink paisley walls. 

“It’s 6 o’clock? In the morning?” He flipped his lank-feeling hair from his brow. “Uuuuugh. I’d forgotten there were two 6 o’clocks in the day.”

“Some of us have gotta earn a living.” Steve shoved his arms into a not particularly well-pressed white shirt then fiddled with the buttons at his throat. “Talking of which… Can I have my two-hundred bucks, please?”

…

Twelve hours earlier

“Got a job for you, Harrington,” said Kline, head concierge at the Beverly Hills Yorkshire. “Try not to mess this one up.”

Steve looked up from where he was emptying ashtrays into the trash. His least-loved superior drew close and dropped his usually bark-like voice to an undertone:

“Freak in the penthouse wants a hooker. Tonight. 8pm sharp.”

“Oh. Right.” Steve humoured Kline, answering in an equally conspiratorial tone. “Do I call the usual agency?”

“Hell, no. Freaks a freak! Wants a guy. Goddamn dirty queer.” Steve was still tipping ashtrays—best to always look busy when this sleazebag was around. Unfortunately, this meant Kline stuffed a note into the waistband of Steve’s pants, forcing Steve to suppress a shudder. “Deirdre gave me some numbers to call around. Whatever the dirty dogs quote, triple the number—no, quadruple it—before you tell the freak. We can turn a fat profit here. Reckon you can handle that? Or will the figures be too much for that air-brain little head of yours?”

After Kline departed, Steve pulled out the crumpled note. He stared at the numbers and chewed his lip. Fuck, fuck, FUCK. Could he really afford to pass this over?

He wasn’t allowed to wait tables in the silver-service grill anymore—he’d gotten one too many table orders muddled up. He was really feeling the pinch without those tips.

And the ‘freak’ had to be richer than God.

Dude had been shacked up in the penthouse for nearly three weeks now. That place cost over a thousand bucks a night. On the couple of occasions Steve had taken up room service, the guy had lurked in the gloom and behind a curtain of rocker hair. A pale hand with long, slender fingers offered out a ten-dollar bill.

He had to be a rockstar, right? Thought nobody had figured out what band he was in, and guys like that only buried themselves away to drink too much, do drugs, trash stuff, and… fuck whores.

Steve crumpled Kline’s note in his fist and resigned himself to it.  His medication had doubled in price this year, and he was reduced to sleeping in one of the hotel linen closets.

An extra hundred dollars or so would help a lot.

…

Eddie wished he hadn’t answered the phone. It was goddamn Dustin, berating him as ever:

“Eddie! Do I have to stick a firework up your butt or something? Suzie and I have got all the gameplay coding sorted for ‘Vecna’s Doom Quest II’ ready to rock and roll. All we want is for you to sprinkle your magic over the creative content, and we’ll be home and dry for another monster hit.”

“There’s the rub, Henderson. I’m not feeling wildly creative right now.”

“Then get out of that doily-saturated dumpster! Travel! Meet people! Honestly, what was the point of becoming a millionaire at twenty-four if you can’t enjoy yourself. If you’re still cut up about your music, then hire yourself another studio and—”

“You need to get off my back. After your hour-long lecture about how I needed to get laid, I went and did something stupid and now—”

“You did get a date?”

“No, I… Look, this is really not a good time, Henderson.” 

Eddie hung up. 

He instantly felt bad. Jesus, he spent his whole life feeling bad about something these days. 

He knew Dustin meant well. In his own arrogant-little-shit kinda way. Eddie probably should take his advice, go to a club, meet guys he’d like to date, and he would. If the thought of simply leaving the hotel didn’t shred his nerves ragged.

And there was no way he could tell Dustin he’d gone and ordered a rent boy on room service. After a couple of way-too-early-in-the-day shots of vodka, it’d seemed like a good idea. 

Not anymore.

Eddie picked up one of his many guitars, which lay propped alongside the ornate couch. He struck a miserably dissonant chord. The shady guy who’d sold it claimed it’d once belonged to Hendrix. Eddie hadn’t really fallen for that shit then paid a dumb price for it anyhow. On the off-chance it’d inspire some of that metal magic he’d let slip.

“Magic, Munson? You always sucked balls and you know it.”

Jesus, he was talking to himself now, and he knew he was wallowing. These past three weeks, it was all he’d done. Worse, he knew he was an ungrateful dick, not appreciating the journey he’d made from his uncle’s trailer to this.

Which made him hate himself even more.

He tossed the guitar down on the couch—would’ve smashed it, if not for just the teeniest chance Jimi did once deign to touch it. Instead, he punched one of the penthouse’s many fake-marble pillars, then whimpered, blowing on his damaged knuckles.

He was about to call down for ice—and to cancel his ‘date’—when the knock sounded at the door. He considered ignoring it. Then he noticed the time.

8pm.

Rent-boy o’clock.

He’d not realised the day had slid away so fast. It sure as heck dragged till now. He was still considering ignoring the knock, when it came again.

“Mister Munson?”

Eddie dithered a moment longer then went to the grand double doors and opened one a crack. 

His jaw dropped.

The guy waiting on his doormat was good-looking, for sure. Striking was the word that sprung next into Eddie’s mind. His slicked back hair was a touch too yuppy-frat-boy for Eddie’s taste. Eddie totally dug his eyeliner, though, which set off big chocolate eyes to perfection. A vest top revealed leanly muscled arms and was also cropped at his midriff to display a swatch of trim, lick-able flesh, intersected by a trail of wispy hair. His ripped jeans were so tight they might’ve been spray-painted on, and…

…he was also slightly familiar. Eddie was so busy gawking, he genuinely jumped when the guy spoke again.

“Hey. I’m Steve. You, uh, asked for—”

“Look, I was gonna call down and cancel. This was a friend’s idea.”  Yeah, blame Henderson, you snivelling coward. “I changed my mind, okay?”

“Oh.” Steve’s shoulders slumped, although something shifted in his eyes that might’ve been relief. “I’ll be off then… Oh hey, are you okay? What happened to your hand?”

Eddie had made the mistake of pinching the bridge of his nose with his puffy red fingers. “Oh, I’m fine. I whacked myself.”

“You want me to get you some ice?”

“Uuuuuh, hookers can do that?”

Steve winced slightly. “I actually work in the hotel. I mean, as a day job. Breakfast buffet, elevator, room service, odd jobs, that kinda thing.”

“Right.” That raised more questions that it answered. Eddie opted not to pry. “Thought you looked familiar. You look different out of—”

“Out of the shitty bellboy outfit?” Steve rolled those way too pretty eyes, and dumped a bulging knapsack by the doors. “I’ll grab that ice.”

…

Steve dashed to the nearest ice-dispenser, grabbed a first-aid kit too. He rushed back to the penthouse. His heart raced, and he felt kinda flushed, despite the arctic setting on the air con.

Up close, the ‘freak’ was pretty good-looking, if slightly Goth-y and pale. And Steve had to get out of the nasty-ass habit of thinking of him as ‘the freak.’ Now he’d gotten face-to-face with the guy, it seemed mean and douchy.

One of the doors was ajar when he returned. Eddie sat on one of several luxuriant couches, his head in his hands. The place smelled faintly of weed, but nothing worse. Steve coughed, cleared his throat: “Got the ice, Mister Munson, Sir.”

“Jesus, none of that shit. It’s Eddie.”

“Wow. My favourite name.”

Eddie snorted. “Horseshit.”

Steve wrapped some ice chips in a napkin, sat down beside Eddie, who downed a glass of clear liquid that Steve suspected was vodka. Then, hesitantly, Eddie stretched out an elegant, long-fingered hand. Steve took it one of his and pressed the ice to Eddie’s swollen knuckles. Eddie appeared reluctant to look him in the eye, which made Steve feel dead awkward too.

He noticed a massive crack in one of the pillars. Had to be recent. Plaster dust sprinkled the otherwise immaculate Persian carpet beneath.

“You wanna talk about it?” he said, returning his attention to Eddie’s hand. “Did you have an argument with your girlf… boyfriend.”

“Ain’t got no one, brother. Went and ordered you, didn’t I?”

Steve felt like he’d been slapped. Yeah, he’d been ordered on room service, like a platter of meat. Okay, he’d kinda chosen this but… Choices, real choices, had been out of his league for what felt like forever.

He gritted his teeth. “You want me to bandage this, or should I just leave?”

That got Eddie looking up sharply. “Leave?”

“You said you were gonna cancel? Not in the groove for booty calls, huh?”

Steve watched Eddie’s Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard. He tugged his hand away from Steve, picked up the glass with tips of those delicious fingers and offered it to Steve. “Changed my mind. Drink?”

“I feel I should pour, right?” said Steve, nerves fizzing.

Eddie was finally looking at him again, eyes narrowed to simmering slits: “If you like.”

...

anyone here for this? <3 likes reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

Chapter 2 on tumblr

Chapter 2 on AO3

I've added a hashtag #thefreakinthepenthouse for ease of finding the earlier parts. I can also tag if anybody is interested... please let me know.

zero pressure and one-off tag @sidekick-hero who kindly asked about this one in the WIP tag game and just got a surprised blurble as I'd not typed anything up then...

[darnell-la]

𝗧𝗔𝗞𝗘 𝗜𝗧 𝗙𝗢𝗥 𝗬𝗢𝗨𝗥 𝗠𝗔𝗦𝗧𝗘𝗥 (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)

pairing: the wolverine x assassin!reader

warnings: toxicity, abandon (for a reason), fight, blood, swords, crying, yelling, begging, near death, treated, depression, growth, smut, claiming, etc.

request: Well again sorry if you do decide to do a part two. Maybe female y/n does end up going with them cause she can't exactly walk and when the big epic fight happens she actually like helps Logan and uh..darn it you have her name in the story and I already forgot so yeah so female y/n gets injured protecting her..and like after that logan manages to finish the fight due to his rage about it. Uhh like maybe a small time skip with female y/n fully recovering and basically it's logan claiming female y/n as hia forever - @reeeeee3737388

note: this is a rewrite of the Wolverine move when Logan howlett is in Japan. Here is part two.

———

The next morning, Logan woke up first, surprised after he wiped his eyes and yawned, realizing that he hadn’t had a bad dream, or woke up in the middle of the night.

“Fuck,” the man dragged low as he turned his body, facing y/n that was lying on her back. Logan scanned the girl's body that wasn’t covered in the blanket he had thrown over the both of them.

He couldn’t help but think about yesterday. He had gone on for so long. Of course, he took a few breaths due to her blacking out needing a break.

She was too fucked out to speak and tell him she couldn’t anymore, so she laid there and took it. Gripping him every time she came.

“Logan!” Mariko yelled from inside of the safe room he had locked her in. Her speaker still worked, and she had just woken up after being there for almost twenty-four hours.

“Shit,” Logan rolled his eyes with a loud groan as he got up from the bed. He fixed himself up, making sure his zipper wasn’t down and his belt was buckled. He didn’t know how to tell the princess he fucked the assassin to submission.

“Stay back!” Logan yelled before running into the stew metal door. He continued until the door opened, revealing a tried Mariko with snacks in hand as well as a drink.

“What was taking you so long, Logan? Are they gone- Oh my god!” Mariko gasped as she saw the bodies on the ground. “W-What — Oh my god,” she couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Don’t worry, we’ve got a hostage,” Logan said. As Mariko gave Logan a confused look, they heard a thud in the room he left y/n in. “She’s awake,” he said before showing Mariko.

As the two walked into the room, they saw y/n on the floor, pushing her upper body off of the floor as her legs stayed crossed and twitched.

“Fuckin’ fell,” y/n said, upset that her lower body ached this bad. She had no idea how it could be sore and numb at the same time. “Had to — Interrogate her?” Logan shrugged, trying to find a good lie.

“Why is she naked?” Mariko asked, just now making y/n realize her breasts were out and her skirt sat up so far, they could see her mound.

“Fuck,” y/n said under her breath as she pulled her skirt down and covered her breast. “Look-“ Logan went to say but Mariko passed him an eye roll to go help y/n.

“I’m sorry so sorry he-“ Mariko went to speak, but y/m but her off. “It’s okay — H-He didn’t hurt me, I’m just a little-“ y/n tried getting up but she fell back down, making Logan feel bad.

“Shit,” the man said as he walked over to the younger lady and picked her up, placing her on the bed she fell out of after trying to maybe escape, but what would she say to her master?

If she hadn’t come back with Mariko, he’d probably kill her. He needed Mariko to lore Logan to him.

“Sorry,” was all Logan said as he stepped back, seeing the state he had left a stranger in. “I — I needed to eat some steak loose, and I didn’t want to kill you,” Logan admitted.

“Well, isn’t that charming,” y/n faked smiling before turning her head to lay down, away from him. “Hey, if you hadn’t barged in her, actin’ all innocent at first, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“Oh, so I can’t look good or else the Wolverine will find me and fuck me!” Y/n yelled the last two words, making sure he felt how stupid he sounded.

“Well, maybe, yes — You fuckin’ liked it anyway. Could tell the way you squeezed my cock,” the man said through his teeth before leaving out of the room.

“Is he always like this? God,” Y/n rolled her eyes as she flopped back into the soft pillow. “I’ve only known him for a short time, but you’re the only one he’s been nice to, so far,” Mariko smiled.

Mariko has never seen anything like this before. She didn’t know if having sex with an assassin was normal, but she didn’t judge Logan. As long as the girl lying on the bed was fine, Mariko was fine.

“Alright, get up — We’re gettin’ out of here,” Logan barged into the room after an hour of Mariko cooking whatever she could find and serving it to the two.

“Ian goin’ nowhere with you,” y/n said. The way she spoke was different than yesterday. He didn’t know why, but she did. For the past hour, she’s decided the best thing to do is not work for Mariko’s grandfather anymore.

If she went back, she’ll be killed. She needed to vanish and make it seem like she had died trying to fight the Wolverine.

“Oh, yes, you are, and you’re gonna tell us who you work for,” Logan said as he grabbed the girl's arm and pulled her off of the bed. She instantly fell to the ground. She felt like a newborn dear.

Logan rolled his eyes as he dropped his hands. The groan that left his mouth, annoyed y/n. “This is your fucking fault? Like, don’t you know how to take a fuckin’ break you rabid beast,”

Y/n tried getting up by herself, but she couldn’t feel her legs only tingle. Her cunt had throbbed as well, reminding her of last night. Fuck, he fucked her good.

“Ain’t like you stopped cumin’ either,” Logan said, looking right into the girl's eyes. “Body reaction, dickhead,” y/n lied, knowing she felt too damn good when she came around his cock.

“Oh, yeah? Wanna fuckin’ bet on that, Bub?” The man asked as he walked over to y/n, then picked her up. “No, you fuckin- Hey!” Y/n yelled at the man after he threw her on the bed.

Logan hovered over Y/n, not making a move, but looking down at her, eyes dark and cock picking through his jeans.

He’s supposed to be taking this situation seriously. He’s supposed to kill her and run off with Mariko to get her to safety, but instead, he’s pussy-whipped over an assassin sent to weaken him.

“Tell me you like it,” Logan said, voice sounding a bit like a beg, but he wasn’t going to make it more obvious. “Why? You get off on it, big boy?” She asked with a smirk, knowing he did. He is right now.

“Maybe I do — Whatcha gonna do about it, Bub?” Logan’s face leaned towards her, making their noses touch. The low growls Logan let out, only made it harder for y/n to deny him.

“Names y/n — Maybe ask before you try gettin’ in my pants again,” she said, making the man chuckle under his. “Try? Baby, I did,”

His cocky reply left y/n silent. It was true. He did get in her pants. He did get through her slit and made her cum on his cock multiple times.

“You’re a dick,” y/n said, voice low and shy all of a sudden. Even though her lower body was numb, she couldn’t stop her cunt from throbbing. “You like it — Can smell ya,”

“Get off,” y/n said in a serious tone she forced. Instead of arguing, he did as told with a chuckle. “Gonna come back with some clothes and carry you today. You piss me off, and those legs will stay dead longer than they have to,”

“Her grandfather’s alive, and you didn’t fucking tell us!?” Logan asked. It’s. After a day of Logan carrying the woman, she finally told them who wanted Mariko, and why.

Logan wasn’t happy about it. He had thrown y/n to the ground as they walked the streets of Tokyo.

“Why would I!? I wanted to leave!” Y/n said as she slowly got up, able to walk now, but Logan insisted. He said she would walk too slowly. In actuality, he just wanted to carry the woman around.

“Let’s go, Mariko,” Logan said as he turned around to head to where Mariko’s grandfather was hiding out. “No! H-He wants you there! If you do, you’ll give him what he wants,” y/n got up and tried pulling the man back to save his life.

“Get the fuck off of me!” Logan shouted as he yanked his arm away from her. “Don’t act like you fuckin’ care for us now. You came to kill me,” Logan growled in her face.

“I didn’t come to kill you, I came to weaken you. A-And I know that’s not better, but- You know how this life goes,” y/n said, making Logan chuckle.

“You had a choice,” Logan said, which she did, for this mission. She wouldn’t for any other. “You know I didn’t. I-I probably still don’t,” she said.

“Then leave — I won’t follow, just fucking leave,” Logan said through his teeth, mocking what she said a couple of days ago.

The face he gave looked serious, but he wasn’t anywhere near. He just needed y/n to get the fuck out of here before things got bad. She has no power, and they wouldn’t kill Mariko. She and Logan would be the only ones in danger.

“A-Are you serious?” She asked low with a crack in her voice. “Do you see me stuttering?” The man said, making y/n’s face twitch with different expressions.

She knows they don’t know each other, but the hint Logan has been giving and the way he fucked her that day — She thought her care about her at least a little, but her stilling her to fuck off.

“Logan, I don’t think she should-“ Mariko tried saying but Logan turned around and grabbed her arm, pulling Mariko away to go fight.

Y/n stayed behind, standing in the street as her eyes began to water. Logan could smell it. He felt horrible, but he can’t show it. He had to leave her. There was no other way.

“You don’t need her anymore, you need me. So fight me!” Logan shouted as he brought out his claws. Mariko’s grandfather had finally revealed himself after Logan told him he knew he was alive.

“Who told you it was me?” The old man asked, genuinely wanting to know. He began saying names until he stopped at y/n, seeing the way Logan’s eye twitched.

Y/n had only me ruin her name to Mariko, but he over heard. He was curious, but that might’ve put her in danger.

“Oh, y/n — She’s a wonderful soul. Kind and obedient, but too pretty to send on a mission against the Wolverine, I see,” the old man said, lightly feeling the tension between Logan and just her name.

“You leave her alone,” Logan said, making the man chuckle. “Now, why would I do that? She works for me. She means nothing to you,”

Logan had gotten pissed off from his comment, so he attacked him. The two started fighting as Mariko tried thinking and looking around for ways to stop her grandfather.

Y/n had followed the two from a distance earlier today. Now she’s hiding behind objects, hoping Logan would win the fight he’s in right now, but he’s struggling against the man in the metal suit.

Y/n quickly ran over to the computer section she had scanned for. His suit had to be connected to something right?

“Y/n!?” Mariko yelled as she ran over to her, surprised at her appearance. She shouldn't be here. She knows her grandfather will kill her if she sees she’s snooping around, and going against him.

“Don’t worry, I’m just doing the right things,” y/n said, trying in the computers to shut anything down that was on. “You’re a good woman, y/n. Go help, Logan. I’ve got this,” she said.

Y/n nodded her head before she ran towards where the two were fighting. They had fallen down a couple of stories, so she ran down those stairs until she made eye contact with him. The silver samurai.

“Well, look who’s come back. Couldn’t abandon your old man?” The older man asked as he threw Logan across the room. “Logan!” Y/n shouted, seeing how weak the man was.

“You’re pathetic. Worthless! I send you on a mission, and betray me — Do you know what I do to traitors!?” The older man asked as Logan slowly looked up, seeing who the old man was roaming to, and once he did, his eyes widened.

“Y-Y/n,” he said low as he tried to get up, but he slipped, legs feeling weak and his ribs in pain. “I show no mercy,” the silver samurai said before he lunged at y/n slicing her clean across her stomach before she could react.

“No!” Logan shouted, trying to gain strength but his regenerating powers were weakened and slowed than usual. The silver samurai was prepared for tonight.

Y/n tried fighting, grabbing a sword that was on the floor, but it was soon taken from her. The old man used it, stabbing the young lady through her stomach.

Y/n gasped, hands falling down as she looked into the man’s eyes. “You were a good assassin while it lasted. May you pass and do better in the next life,” was the last thing the old man said before he pulled the sword out.

Y/n fell to the ground, slumped and gushing blood she thought she could stop, but her hands were too weak to lift. She couldn’t move.

“No!” Logan yelled, voice growling as his eyes darkened. The man’s claws came out as his veins popped throughout his whole body. With one loud animalistic yell, the man ran towards the old man in the suit.

Logan felt bad at first for what he was about to do, but y/n was innocent. He was an innocent young lady who grew up, forced to think she had to work for the older man.

Logan let all of his anger out and finished the grandfather off, throwing him out of the tower they were fighting in. His suit broke apart as it hit the ground way below.

Logan huffed and puffed, still feeling anger until he snapped back into reality, thinking of y/n. He quickly turned around and ran to the wounded lady on the cold ground.

“Y/n,” the man said as he dropped to his knees. His hands instantly pressed down on her wound, trying to stop the bleeding. “Get help! Now!” Logan yelled at Mariko who looked down at him from upstairs.

“Hey, hey, look at me. Look at me! It’s gonna be okay, okay? Hey, it’s alright,” the man couldn’t stop speaking as he watched the girl's head move and mouth part. She wanted to speak, but couldn’t.

“Take your time, what is it? C‘mon, Bub, just get it out. What is it?” He asked as one of his hands came to her cheek to keep her head steady. Her eyes met his, allowing her to see how glossy they were.

“I- sorry,” she choked, feeling like this would’ve never happened if she had just kept her mouth shut or told the princess about what her grandfather had planned. Y/n was in the middle of it all and stayed quiet for her master.

Y/n’s eyes slowly began to close, making Logan's heart speed up. “N-No - No, y/n — Y/n, no!” The man slapped her face, but she couldn’t stay up anymore.

Months passed, and Logan did everything he could to keep y/n up and running, making sure she ate what she had to, drank what she had to, walked as much as she had to, and rested as much as she had to.

Y/n would argue with him almost every day about it, crying into his chest about how hard it was living like this. Living slowly and not being able to train like she used to every day.

“You were forced to train. Now you can finally rest — By me,” was something Logan would say all the time to call her down.

Thankfully, y/n was now fully recovered. She apologized to the man many times about how she acted towards him while she was healing. All he did was laugh at the girl as he told her he was fine and never felt any different about her.

“They’re gone,” Logan spoke, breaking the silence between the two after she had woken up from a long nap. Today was day one of her full recovery, and she looked as beautiful as ever.

“Yeah — All thanks to you,” Y/n smiled as his hands tiptoed around her half-naked body. The panties and bra set he gave her were cute, and she decided to wear them to sleep last night, not thinking she’d wake up to him right next to her.

“It’s all you, Bub — You’re stronger than you think,” he said, making her giggle. “And how would you know that, mister Wolverine?” She asked, making a low chuckle slip from his mouth.

“You healed me,” he said after the seconds of laughter between the mouth. “Come again?” She asked the man. “You healed me — Saved me from being in the gutter. It takes a strong person to the that. A strong human, and you’ve managed to do that when we first met,”

Y/n shyly smiled at the man, not knowing what to say. “You know, I can’t let that go, right?” He said. “Let what go?” She asked. “Let you go — I worked my ass to keep you well. For me. Of course for your own self but — Y/n, I need you,”

Y/n’s hands stopped stroking the man’s hair at the shocking words. She thought this might only be a fling, but apparently, he thought otherwise.

“I’ve been alone and hurt for too long, carrying around anger, and beating myself up, but when I’m with you- It seems to all go away. You make me feel whole — I need you,”

“A-Are you sure it’s not just some attachment issue-“ she tried saying, but he cut her off with a long kiss, hoping she’d get his serious this situation was for him.

“Ain’t no issue, Bub — Just you,” Logan said, hoping she wouldn’t turn the old man around. “Logan — We’re so different,” Y/n said, but Logan didn’t care.

The man’s hand traveled to her face, cupping and rubbing at it. “Don’t turn me down, Bub — Please,” the man’s voice came out low. She could tell this was a huge jump for him.

“I — I could never turn you down, Logan,” she smiled, as his eyes widened. “Thank god,” Logan quickly hovered over the young lady as he smashed his lips on hers, kissing her roughly and sweetly.

“You gon quit that assassin shit for me, Bub? Can’t have you goin’ out endangering yourself,” Logan began nibbling along the girl's cheek and neck. “I retired,” y/n giggled.

“Good girl,” the man continued kissing down her body, hooking his fingers on her panties until he ripped them off. “Need this pretty girl safe and sound,” the man smirked down at y/n as she looked up at him.

It didn’t take long for Logan to have the young girl squirming and whining his name as he repeatedly hit her right spot.

“Mhm hm — Right there? Gettin’ to the right spot?” He asked, making her nod with a cry. “R-Right there,” her hands wrapped around the man’s neck.

“Gonna be good for me, and cum?” The man could feel her tightening around her every second. “Y-Yes,” was all she said before she came around him with a shake.

The growl he let out buried inside of her head. He couldn’t get enough of her. “Treatin’ an old man so good — Gotta keep you forever,” the man said in the crook of her neck, rolling his hips just right.

“Ain’t never lettin’ you go,”

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ