#I'm just left... confused AND a little hurt

[foli-vora]

run to you: chapter eight

marcus pike x f!reader

A/N: it's here. Finally. Don't look at me. Can't believe we only have 4 chapters to go after this one! I have such a deep fond love for this little universe and I'm so damn thankful for all of your comments, reblogs and asks! Your kind words make my bloody year! Hope you enjoy angels x

Summary: Following on from ‘Traitor’ and ‘You’re Somebody Else’. An unexpected visitor throws you right back into the life you thought you left behind. Working beside the man that put you behind bars is one thing, pretending like you never loved him is another.

Word count: 4.7k-ish

Warnings: angsttttt, swearing, general heartache and bittersweet goodbyes, a break in, these two make me want to listen to a heartbreak playlist all day and just cry

main masterlist | series masterlist

This story will have explicit sexual scenes in the future so 18+ only.

The words play in your mind as you make a beeline to the public bathrooms, a relentless cycle over and over and over. Your conversation with the consultant had been mind achingly frustrating, and yet, despite knowing his little tricks and various mental hoops he gets his chosen victims to jump through, you can’t help it—you give in.

You find yourself jumping through those damn hoops, letting his words drive you borderline insane.

Jane has it all wrong—so wrong—so why can’t you stop thinking about what he said? What would give him the impression that Marcus has feelings for you? Feelings that extend beyond the expected responsibility of a leading agent, and mere guilt lingering from their shared history.

Does he see something you can’t? Has he heard something? Found something?

The bitter tang of resentment builds in the back of your throat as your mind goes down more paths, creating more questions with no answers in sight. This is what he wants.

Jane wants you to be overwhelmed with questions and what ifs and a desperation for the truth, so you’ll go to him for the answers. So he can spin words, play and pick your brain some more. It’s a cycle, one that obviously works well for him. This is how he plays, and it’s vicious and cruel, and—

—and yet you still let his words confuse you, still mull over them in your head.

You keep fucking falling for it. 

Your hands shake as they deposit your bag beside the sink, the cold water splashing over your skin doing nothing to divert your thoughts or distract you.

Of course there are no feelings anywhere.

Maybe this is just a ploy to hurt or embarrass Marcus—surely there’d be some bad energy there, given the history between them both. Maybe Jane’s not finding enough entertainment within the investigation and is instead making his own.

You don’t know. What you do know is that you refuse to waste one more fucking second wondering what is going on in that man’s head, and what his ploy is.

It hits you as you stare back at your reflection in the mirror, the obvious internal war written across your face with creases of stress and watery eyes—you can’t do this. You’re not cut out for this rollercoaster of drama. You’ve had enough. 

Jane, the case, Marcus, the FBI—you’ve had enough of all of it. You’ve done enough, and Marcus has always said to tell him when you decide you’re done. He’s always said that you’re under no obligation to do anything you don’t want to do, that you could back out at any point. Or maybe that was just another lie.

The bitter part of you churns to life, still angry, still holding onto the aching resentment from the past. Vicious thoughts and memories tainted by heartbreak flood your mind, but it doesn’t seem to cut as deep as it usually would. He didn’t lie about that. 

He said you were in control, he gave you his word—and you took it. You trust it.

Would he be disappointed?

You did tell him that you’d help, that you’d do what the FBI asked of you and get them the information they need, but at what cost? Your mental health was already taking hits, an array of emotions continuously assaulting you from merely being around Marcus again, let alone being bombarded and interrogated by some wanna-be mentalist freak from California.

No. He’d understand.

You dry up, blotting the paper towel across your throat and willing your heart to slow down as you look over your frame in the reflection. The wire’s still perfectly hidden, tucked deeply away under your jacket from where Marcus had pinned it, but the mere thought of it sitting there has a cold dread creeping along your veins.

That whole conversation with Jane had been recorded.

Marcus is going to listen to it. His team is going to listen to it. You can’t deal with the fallout of that. You can’t be humiliated like that. What would he do? What would he say?

Though of course you know the truth and that the idea of Marcus having any type of romantic inclination towards you is fucking ridiculous, you’re still not exactly fond of the idea of sitting there and listening to him explain why he does not, and would not, ever have feelings for you.

Maybe—maybe you could get ahead of it.

Surely if you just tell him, ask him, that the recording be discarded as you’re backing out. There’s nothing on there, there’s no need for it. Just delete it, forget about it and move on. 

You grab your things and leave the safety of the bathroom, clutching your bag like a lifeline as you begin to make your way towards the exit, but then you see him. He’s a good distance away from the path you’re taking, and you wouldn’t have noticed him at all if you weren’t suddenly highly aware of every person milling about the building.

Edward Thomas.

Someone who had played a big part in your life before everything went to shit. He’d been involved with some of your replicas, their creations and the deals around them once they were complete. You weren’t aware of his exact place in all of it, but you know damn well it was much higher on the food chain than you.

He looks the same, despite everything. Did nothing happen to him when it all fell apart? Was he not arrested along with everyone else?

Probably not. He had money—serious money. He had connections. He had the network you had ensured to keep out of. Perhaps you would’ve been better following his footsteps, kissing asses and sucking up to the underground elites of the world, making more of a name for yourself behind closed doors. You would've been untouchable, invincible. 

Where would you be now? Back in your penthouse, mostly unscathed and living life as normal.

There’s no use dwelling on it. It’s a can of worms you could continue to open and close for the rest of your life, wondering what if until it drove you mad.

Doing what Edward Thomas did, does—it’s not you. It wasn’t you back then, and it wouldn’t be you now. You just wanted to paint, you weren’t in it for the money. Although, admittedly, it did help.

You want to move towards him, to hover in the background beyond the group of smartly dressed people surrounding him, enough for him to see you, to peak his interest. This could be what Marcus, the FBI, needs. This could, potentially, help the investigation, if he is still doing dealings under the table. 

But then what? You’d be stuck having to go further. There’d be no backing out. There’d be more drama, more headaches, more mind games, more lies. You can’t do it.

This has developed into something you don’t think you have the nerve for. The idea of it all seemed so easy when Marcus came to you, but the reality of it? You don’t have the mentality for it all. You’re not an agent. You’re not trained for this. You don’t have people behind you, covering for you and protecting you.

You turn away.

Rigsby lingers by the bathroom you had exited from, nose in a pamphlet showcasing the must sees of the museum, but his eyes flick to you as if to check on your movements. You swallow, give a barely there shake of your head and then continue on your way out, leaving him to alert Marcus that you had left.

—

You’re only a mere few feet away, but he can feel the distance that now stretches in between you. Distance that could never be removed or forgotten. The thick sheen of glass hides him from your gaze, but that doesn’t stop him from flinching when your eyes glance at the mirror upon entry.

He’s a coward. A fucking coward. He intentionally sat out on the move today, refused to be a part of the team bringing you in, all because he was scared of seeing your face and the look of betrayal in your eyes. Shit, he’s still scared now. Maybe that;s why he stays behind the glass, refusing to be a part of the interrogation.

You’re holding on so fucking strong, he’s damn near proud.

Jenner throws everything at you. He does all that he can, but when you don’t budge, he throws an apologetic glance towards the mirror that you thankfully don’t catch. It’s time to pull out the ace card, to let you know they had more on you than you think, and it makes him fucking sick.

He can’t move.

You’re confused when you hear the mention of his name, his real name, and why wouldn’t you be? You have no idea who he is, who he really is.

Sweat slicks his palm as he pulls at the door to the interrogation room, builds on the back of his neck under the crisp collar of his shirt as he takes a seat. He can’t look at you. He can’t look at you because he’s a piece of shit coward, unable to confront all the shit he’s done.

Bile stings at his throat.

It takes every fucking bit of him to keep it together.

The file is heavy in his hand as he slides it across the table before he finally manages to meet your gaze. It cuts him to the very core. He feels the hit of it deep in his chest. His jaw starts to ache from the pressure of keeping his teeth clenched tightly together, forcefully swallowing down every flicker of pain and guilt and self fucking loathing until he’s nothing but a blank slate.

Tears start to build rapidly in your eyes and he knows then and there that he’ll never forget that look of pure and utter heartbreak creasing your face. The face he had stroked so softly, kissed so lovingly.

“Special Agent Pike,” you rasp softly, almost choking on the words.

It’s a viciously harsh blow to the system and he falters almost immediately.

I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’m sorry—

You don’t look at him anymore, and he’s almost glad for it. You’d see how he starts to crumble, how his tongue darts out to wet his lips in a panic and how Jenner makes a small gesture for him to take a deep breath and cool it before he says something that’ll end him in deep shit.

“I want a lawyer.”

—

“I can’t—I can’t do this anymore. Any of it.”

He seems to be expecting the words, taking them in with nothing but a small reassuring smile and a simple, “Okay.”

Honestly, you were expecting a little more. Maybe a few questions fired as to why you couldn’t do it when you seemed so intent on following through with it all originally, but when he says nothing else, you deflate. You wet your lips, wondering if there’s some sort of catch, but Marcus remains silent, watching the flutter of emotions pass over your face.

“That’s it?”

“When I told you that you’re in control of this, I meant it. If you’re done, then you’re done.”

Hearing him confirm it brings such a sweet relief to your mind, you can practically feel the weight of it all start to seep from your shoulders, but despite that guilt still sits in the pit of your stomach, uncomfortable and relentless. It falls from your mouth before you can even think to stop it—

“I’m sorry. I thought—I don’t know. I guess I just thought it would feel different, or be easier than it actually is. I think I’m just… tired. Of everything. I want—”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” he cuts in quietly, giving a small reassuring smile when you glance at him. “We asked a lot of you, and I understand that. It’s okay—really.”

Your conversation with Jane plays back through your mind, almost tauntingly. A small part of you wants to tell Marcus about it, he should know Jane’s off parading about on his own path without a care for the plans or rules or whatever it is that gets set in place during an investigation, but then what?

He’d want to know what he said, and you don’t have it in you to look him in the eyes and tell him. You don’t want to open yourself up to that embarrassment. Of course what Jane said is all bullshit, it’s ridiculous to even think about yourself, but to have Marcus bluntly tell you so would be a bit of a slap across the face.

“The recording,” you start with the creepings of hesitation, tongue rolling along your lips in an effort to bring the words out smoother, “what happens to it?”

 A flutter of a frown creases his brows as he eyes you from across your kitchen before he gives a noncommittal shrug, finding no harm in your curiosity.

“It gets put in with the rest of the evidence.”

“Even if there’s nothing on it?”

“It would need to be cleared by an agent first, but if there’s nothing of use on it then it just gets discarded.”

“If—if I asked you to delete it now, without listening to it, is that… would you?”

The frown immediately deepens.

He seems to stand straighter, something seeping into his expression as your question lingers in the air, and you watch, waiting for the suspicion that doesn’t seem to come. He just seems concerned, whether on your behalf or his investigation you don’t know. He doesn’t seem to know that Jane had jumped on you at the museum, surely that would’ve been something he would address immediately upon seeing you after the last time,  so you’re positive he’s unaware of what’s on it.

“I—” he stops, tongue running along his lips, “I can’t risk the case—”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you. There’s nothing worthwhile on it, but if I wanted you to forget about it and delete it, would you?”

Would you trust me?

It goes unspoken, but it lingers behind your words. Despite the anxiety churning in your stomach and the panic building in your chest from how he’ll take your request and what he’ll think of it, you’re curious. He has no reason to trust you whatsoever, especially given your history, but some sort of shaky foundation had been built between you over your time working with him—how far did it go?

His concern grows, and he takes a careful step towards you. “Has something happened?”

Should you tell him? No. Just be done with it all.

“Just answer the question.”

“What happened?”

“Marcus.”

The frown remains steady between his brows, his eyes unwavering as they focus on yours and study your features, but eventually, after a few moments of searching your expression, he gives a small careful nod. You can’t help but recoil slightly in surprise, not expecting the answer. You don’t even know what you were expecting.

Your first response is to call him out, because surely he wouldn’t, but as you watch him and the way he starts to shift almost nervously, you start to believe him.

“You would?” You question softly, brows pulling together. “Why?”

“Because you asked me to.”

That’s it? That’s all it would take?

He swallows, eyes falling to the floor as his hands find his hips. “Are—are you asking me to?”

“Maybe.”

“Can you tell me why?”

“No.”

It’s not an answer he wants, but he seems to accept it. His frown stays on you, his eyes bouncing back and forth between your own as he attempts to work out whatever you may be thinking. You see the conflict play across his face, the urge to push for more answers, the want to understand.

Something seems to click behind his eyes and you don’t know what to brace for in the seconds that follow. Anger? Accusations? 

He strides towards the kitchen counter, takes the little device in hand and holds a small button along the side until it gives a small beep followed by a clear confirmation of ‘recording deleted’. It’s over and done with within the span of thirty seconds and you’re left reeling.

Holy shit. He did it. You stare, wide eyed as he tosses it back down and runs a hand over his mouth, before turning and pacing the small width of your apartment. 

You watch him go.

There was nothing on it other than your little spat with Jane, but he didn’t know that. You could be hiding anything. You could’ve turned on him, evaded Rigsby’s watchful eye, found someone in your old circle and told them everything you and the FBI have been doing. Anything could’ve been on it, and yet he listened to you.

He trusted you.

“You could’ve just deleted evidence,” you breathe, still stuck in disbelief.

He knows it wasn’t. He fully believes you would never ask that of him, but at that very moment, he couldn’t have cared less if it was evidence. He would’ve dealt with it, like before. Technology isn’t always reliable, and issues almost always arise during cases with something tech-related. No one would know. No one would need to know.

“Yes,” he states plainly, and you’re so perplexed by the word and how he seemingly shrugs off his actions that you need to take another moment to process it.

“Just like that.”

He finally stops pacing, turning to face you fully.

“Just like that,” he echoes quietly.

This was a bad idea.

Not just the erasure of potential evidence and his apparent nonchalance regarding it and the risk to the position he had gruellingly earned over the years, but the whole thing.

The whole fucking thing.

He should never have bought you into this. He should never have knocked on your door. He’s right back to where he was back then, stuck and doing some very questionable shit he would easily lose his job over all because he’s an idiot.

You don’t hide away from his gaze, and he doesn’t shy away from yours. You’re still trying to work out his thought process, the logic behind his actions, and you keep coming up with nothing. There’s no reason why he would do something like this, for a nobody like you. There’s no motivation, no need on his side to do as you ask and blindly delete shit without questioning it further…  unless—

Unless, what Jane said holds some merit.

Why else would he do it?

No.

Maybe he’s just doing it as a favour, to try and make up for all of the shit he put you through. That makes more sense than him having feelings for you. He hasn’t been around you enough to justify any sort of feelings—he doesn’t know you. Or is he carrying them from your previous relationship? But it’s been ages since you were together, and that was all fake back then. There was nothing real there, it was all a lie. 

The headache is coming back.

You exhale slowly through your lips, eyes falling away from him and to the simple black device once more. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You don’t need to know any more. It’s all done. It’s over, and you can finally get back to your quiet little normal life. You can move on.

“Thank you.” And you mean it.

“Thank you,” he murmurs quietly, clearing his throat. “I know this must’ve been very hard for you, and we appreciate all of the hard work you’ve put into this investigation. I appreciate it.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” you half smile, the pull of it natural.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he huffs softly in amusement, slowly coming closer to pick up the device from the counter and tuck it away into his pocket. 

“I mean, I wasn’t thrilled to begin with, but… it turned out okay.”

He smiles fully, and it hits just like it used to. You don’t look away. There’s no harm in taking it all in one last time. You won’t see him after this. You didn’t know last time, before it all fell apart. You didn’t get a chance to enjoy all of the little things you liked. You didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.

“Well, I’ll—I’ll leave you to it. Thank you again. There might be some final paperwork, but I’ll post it out.”

You nod as you follow him slowly to your door, tucking your cardigan around you and crossing your arms tightly across your chest. You ache. Somewhere deep inside your chest twists, and your throat starts to tighten. You’re not exactly sure what you’re thinking when you call out to him before he can reach for the door, and you’re left with nothing to say when he pauses and turns to you.

There’s nothing to say. He doesn’t bother filling the silence. You stand there, eyes roaming his face in an effort to picture him as he was back then, when he was Alex. He lets you. There’s something there, something hanging in the stillness surrounding you both because you can feel it start to tug and twist at your insides.

Finality.

This is goodbye—a proper one.

It’s not Marcus you want to say goodbye to.

Slowly, deliberately, you step into him and he doesn’t move a muscle. He stills under the hand you steady yourself with on his arm, breath all but hardening in his lungs when your face nears his own.

Your lips press ever so softly to his cheek, only mere millimetres from the corner of his lips, and the shaky little exhale he lets out confirms it all for you.

Jane was right, but you have no idea just how much. He was in deeper than you could have possibly ever imagined. Everything was still there, simmering right under the surface and threatening to be his entire undoing. He doesn’t speak, can’t speak, for fear of saying the wrong thing and fucking this last little moment up.

He relishes in it, in the one final tender touch of your lips that sends his pulse to a heavy hammer beneath his skin. It kills him, destroys him, but he takes it willingly with an open heart. The final punishment to close the last chapter of your story.

His eyes are closed when you pull away, but they soon flutter open to meet yours, and they swim with all the apologies and guilt he doesn’t let himself say anymore. You’re thankful for it, you don’t want to hear it. Not now. Your lips tingle, and a warmth spreads along the skin of your cheeks. 

“Bye Scribbles,” he rumbles finally, and you swear there’s a slight shine of tears in his eyes.

They mirror the ones suddenly building in yours.

Goodbye Alex.

“Goodbye Marcus,” you return softly, and then he’s gone.

—

He wants to tell you to run.

The words sit on his tongue: a beg for forgiveness, a plea to just get on the first plane out of the fucking country and disappear, and he damn near draws blood to stop himself.

Though he tidied up as much as he could, ensured there were appropriate plea deals in place and a chance for you to get out of this better than the others if you cooperated, he still dreaded the next few days.

You have no idea.

No idea that your world’s essentially going to shatter and come down around you, and it’s all his fault.

Your kisses feel like a punishment. Each one threatens to cut through his restraint, and when you whisper those three sweet words in his ear he wants to vomit.

He wants to tell you everything. He wants to explain that this fake persona you had given yourself to so fully was still him—it was all him, just under a different name. 

He doesn’t.

He lets the guilt eat away at him, lets the heartache practically tear him apart from the inside out until he feels raw. There’d be no salvaging this. There’d be no walking away from this with you still on his side, and rightly so. This will fucking break you, and he’ll carry that for the rest of his life.

He sits up long after you fall asleep, studying each dip and curve of your face and committing it all to memory. He traces over your skin, attempts to smile when you sleepily wake from his touch and hides the presence of his tears by scooping you into his arms for the last time. 

—

It’s surprisingly easy to return to life as it was before he knocked on your door. A weight had been lifted free from your shoulders, a promise of new beginnings born from finally gaining closure. Was it what you expected? No, but it was no less welcome. 

You managed to get your old job back at the diner, and spent days sketching aimlessly in the park.

It was normal, until it suddenly wasn’t.

The door’s pried open when you return from a late night shift, the obvious signs of a forced entry with the wooden edges of the door chipped and the frame split from pressure. Your hand shakes as you push it open, stomach turning as it gives way to the utter chaos that is your little apartment. Your home.

Your things are everywhere, drawers are opened and the contents spilled out onto the floor, furniture upturned and tossed carelessly to the side. Someone had been looking for something, but you know you have nothing of worth. Not anymore. They wouldn’t have walked away with anything of significance but still, there’s a bitter sting of loss, of intrusion that seems to rattle you to the core.

Heart beating heavily in your throat, you carefully step over the mess and further into your small apartment, and beyond the thunder of your pulse you hear nothing else out of the ordinary. Whoever had been here was long gone, leaving nothing but destruction and questions in their wake. Who the hell did this?

He’s the first and only person that comes to the forefront of your mind, and when you shakily reach for your phone and find his name still saved in your small list of contacts, he answers after the second ring despite it being so late. You almost feel guilty for bothering him, but something about the way he seems so immediately concerned placates any doubt.

“Hi, I—I’m sorry, I don’t… someone broke into my apartment—”

There’s a sudden flurry of movement on his end that crackles down the phone. 

“Get out of there,” Marcus demands, before you can even finish working out the right words to say.

He doesn’t tell you to call the cops, he doesn’t tell you it’s not his problem and that you’re on your own now. You feel a slight wave of relief, but facing the disaster of your apartment has a wave of vulnerability hitting you and your eyes start to burn. 

“There’s no one here,” you mumble around the sudden dryness of your throat, “they’re gone. Can you—”

“I’m on my way. Listen to me, I need you out of there, do you understand? Do not touch anything, leave everything as it is.”

You nod, despite knowing he wouldn’t be able to see it, and step back out into the quiet corridor of your floor.

There’s no one around.

Your skin prickles with worry, your nerves working into overdrive to stay vigilant. Every quiet shuffle and bump beyond the walls of neighbouring apartments rattles your senses, and the hand holding your phone starts to shake. He must sense your panic, hear the way your breathing starts to pick up as your chest starts to tighten.

“It’s okay, I’m coming. Stay on the phone with me.”

“Okay,” you exhale as a tear tracks down your cheek, leaving a cool trail in its wake.

Maybe this is an overreaction. Maybe it’s just some random burglary, someone out to get a quick bit of cash for whatever they need, or maybe it’s not. Maybe it’s not all over as you had hoped. Has someone found you? Do they know who you are? Do they know what you did?

You feel sick.

Your voice catches in your throat, “Marcus—”

“I know. I’m coming.”

[moralesluvr]

FABLE AND TRUTH 5 | billie eilish

୧ ‧₊˚ love was the law & religion was taught…. ↳ summary: you had always been raised on being poise, feminine, classy. but what was most important to your family was your religion— and it had embroidered itself into your daily life. but when it’s time to pick between feelings and faith, which will you choose? pairings & aus. billie eilish x fem!reader warnings. religious backgrounds & guilt | mature language | sexual content | substance use author's note. CHAP 5 IS HERE! i'm so sorry my loves i'm kind of a bot and didn't upload for 2 weeks....lol...anyways hi here it is wc. 9.1k

“what’s going on, y/n?”

you’re fighting tears as you look for words, but nothing but chopped stutters pass through your lips. you’re too stunned to speak, and you honestly can’t even comprehend what just happened. 

you had kissed billie. it was a complete mistake, but that was a comfort to no one. especially not you. 

“hello? i’m getting a little worried now.” 

your breath hitches as you stumble over your words, pressing the phone tighter to your ear as if the closeness could somehow keep you grounded. you finally spot the words out, “i messed up.”

“huh?” oliver clears his throat, “you…what? what happened? are you okay? 

you choke, your voice cracking under the weight of your panic as you sink into a bench, not far from where you started, “ollie i…i really, really messed up.”

“i’m lost. what’s going on?” he asks, his tone softening as he registers the distress in your voice. you can tell he’s a little worried too, and you didn’t mean to spread the fear to him, but it’s too late for that. 

“where are you? do you need me to come get you?”

you pause, glancing around the dimly lit street you’ve been pacing down since storming out of billie’s car. she’s gone now— she left a couple minutes ago, and part of you is upset that she just caved in on you that easily. but she probably has her own emotions to deal with, and she didn’t want to impose them on you, so she just ran. 

just like you did. 

your blood is practically hot with anger towards yourself, forwards her— any possible direction that you could aim your emotions at, you did. she knew that you were feeling confused, and you knew that you weren’t in the headspace to be making any decisions as rash as that one was. you were aching and empty inside, any sliver of sentiment you had poured itself out through your tears. 

you were so very lost. everything you stood for, and everything you were against, it all seemed like blurred lines now. you had to admit, though, you wanted to kiss her. and it didn’t feel wrong when you did it, but it really was the aftermath. 

the feeling of shame that washed over you when the kiss broke was almost unearthly. you felt like you had committed the ultimate sin, and you were sure there was no coming back from this. there was no compensation, no do-overs, just you, billie, and the thick feeling of regret hanging loosely in the air, dangling over your head. 

a little part of you wish you were still in her car, your lips smashed into hers, her hands roaming in your hair and your heart pumping out of your chest. but it was all an adrenaline rush, the fun in knowing that you’re doing something wrong, but it feels so right. but you didn’t live by what felt right, you lived by what was right.

by law, by an obligation— a duty to serve the one who put breath in your lungs, the very lungs that heaved and shook as you cried your heart out to oliver, no words being said. you were at a loss for them, there was nothing you could say or do or words to describe to convey a fourth of what you felt in the moment.  

billie was hurting, too, you were sure of it. all this time that you had spent innocently flirting, hanging out, confiding in her— it was all wasted now, and you were back to square one. she was confused, you kiss her and then you leave? what was she supposed to do with that?

but it wasn’t your fault. you couldn’t. you couldn’t allow yourself to be caught up in fleeting feelings and a stupid crush, you had bigger things to worry about, a faith to nurture and feed, friendships to grow, a degree to catch. you had a long life ahead of you, and success was at the center— and you were sure she couldn’t be a part of it.

oliver facetimes you when he doesn’t hear you answer through the phone. he needed to know you were at least alive, so when the phone connected, he returned back to his normal, calm state. he watched as you wiped your eyes and your hands shook over your open mouth, almost preparing to say something, but all that came out was broken sobs. 

“it’s okay,” he whispered, though he knew it wasn’t, but that was the best he could do. “i’m here. i’m ready when you are, take your time.” 

you sniffle harshly, your nose running as you try to take the deepest breath you can to steady yourself. you look around the parking lot— its dark now, empty, only a few cars parked at the rage room and a liquor store that’s two buildings down. 

your eyes squint at it, the blue fluorescent lights suddenly appealing to you. all you’ve ever had to drink was a glass of wine, and it was your last resort of them all, but it seemed like an idea that would keep your feelings at bay. 

so you get up, and you walk. 

you’re almost sure you’re not even conscious, because there’s no way you’d ever do this. ever. you’d never intentionally walk to any place that serves alcohol in the middle of the night, much less a store that sells it exclusively. 

but you really don’t have any other options. 

you could pray, but it seems foreign to you. it feels like God’s turned His back on you, like He’s asleep and you’re trying to jerk Him awake, but His listening is selective. it’s like you’re on the outside, like you’ve slipped out of His hands, and it killed you on the inside. 

you felt conflicted. tense, but loose internally. your mind was thinking of things you’d even begin to think of, ready to commit actions that even you weren’t all that prepared for. but you kept walking. 

it feels like forever until you finally reach the doors of the liquor store. your legs are worn, feet bruising, and the cut on your hand seems to pulse exponentially worse as time goes on. you wince, and oliver’s eyebrow raises through the phone. you honestly forgot he was on FaceTime due to his silence, but it seemed like he was just simply waiting for you to speak when you were ready. 

you shoved your phone into your pocket and approached the door, the fluorescent blue lights buzzing faintly as you pushed open the door open a small bell jingling overhead to make your presence known. the air inside is cool, tinged with the smell of alcohol and old wood. shelves of bottles line the walls, the glass catching the light in a way that makes everything feel hazy, like you’ve stepped into a foreign area.

and you had, truly. you’d never been a liquor store before, because usually, it’d never really interest you. but you were caught up, feeling things you had never felt before, and it was like you were acting before you could think. 

you hated that your curiosity was what pushed you through the door and up to the bar area, where your swollen eyes scanned different bottles that were stooped against the wall. you almost walk out, but you’re here now, so you might as well get something. 

the only alcohol you’ve ever had is a glass of wine at christmas back home when you turned 21. it was alright, but it wasn’t something you really planned on doing that often— or, to be frank, ever again. 

but it intrigued you. why was everyone else so happy and loose when they drank. forgetful, dainty, fearless? 

you wanted to feel like that too, right about now— you longed for it, you craved it. so you sucked it up, your normal way of going about things far in the back of your mind as your feet carry you to the front. a young woman stands there with a warm smile, with so many tattoos that there’s more ink than skin. she greets you, “hey there. you must be sunday school,” and then she snickers, “can i help you with anything?” 

the words hit you like a slap to the face, the nickname pulling you out of your mind fog for just a moment. your heart stumbles, your mind catching on the phrase— it’s something billie calls you all the time, usually with a teasing grin or a playful nudge. but this woman doesn’t know you— how could she possibly know that? 

but you’re so focused on getting rid of this thick, uncomfortable haze that clouds your head, so you shake it off, ignoring the knot forming in your stomach. 

“just… looking,” you mumble, glancing away as your cheeks heat with embarrassment, “um…”

the bartender snorts. “sure you are. well, take your time. let me know if you need anything.” 

it’s radio silence after that. 

you’re really conflicted, to say the least. everything about you had been so prim and proper, so sophisticated— this didn’t feel like the real you at all. or, so you thought. 

sometimes, late at night, when your only company was your own thoughts, you’d ponder about what it would be like to switch lives with someone. anyone at all— but your mind always drifted to your best friends. 

maybe you could switch with emma, your hair traded for her long, red curls that matched her fiery personality. she really didn’t have a care in the world— she was blunt, honest, kind but straight-forward. she was smart, but very flexible. she didn’t have a set schedule for anything, that wasn’t really emma’s style. and you envied that. 

deep down, she was your best friend, but you wished you could steal some of the things that she embodied and keep them as your own. you wished you could just let go and be who you really wanted to be, but that wasn’t what faith was about. that’s not what you were about. 

that came first, always. it wasn’t about what you desired, it was about unearthly things, about things that awaited you after you’d pass away. it was important to you, though sometimes, you felt like your true colors were dimmed out. diluted, watered down— but you had to keep composure. there was nothing you could do, because it was all you’d ever known, and it was all you’d ever be. 

or maybe you could be like naomi. her ability to express herself through her wild purple hair, her whimsical clothing, all her crazy piercings. she was carefree, but passionate and warm, and always had your back when you needed her to. 

and even jules. she was blunt, straight as an arrow, but her laugh was as warm as a california breeze. she was clean cut and undeniably beautiful, her long and silky black hair accenting her perfect and strong features. she was the epitome of beauty and class, yet she didn’t let anyone talk to her sideways. she stood up for what she believed in and never divvied from it. 

you shared that with her, kind of. it seemed like you had drifted away now, like you were falling and you couldn’t even catch yourself. 

“ma’am, are you going to order anything? or…”

you snap out of your thoughts and look back at the bartender, who’s impatiently tapping her nails against the hardwood countertops. you don’t know the first thing about alcohol, so you stupidly ask, “uhm…well, what’s good?” 

“depends,” she starts, leaning against the counter as her eyes darted to the back of her head to gesture towards the cases behind her, “vodka if you wanna get drunk. tastes a little like hand sanitizer, but it isn’t all that bad. it’ll be the easiest on you, i take it that you don’t do this whole drinking thing— so that’s the best start. just burns a little, but you’ll be alright.”

you hum to yourself. 

“uh… okay,” you mumble out, glancing uneasily at the rows of bottles behind her. they’re all bright labels and sharp shapes, promising you a world you’ve never stepped foot in. promising relaxation for your nerves, but all of this just seems intimidating. but you really can’t back out now— you’re here already, and you’d do just about anything to quiet your swirling mind. so you just nod, “alright.. i’ll take that, then. vodka.” you nod. 

the bartender smirks, a little too knowingly, and it makes you feel queasy.

“so, i figured you’d be a lightweight,” she mutters under her breath, pulling a clear, large bottle from the shelf and setting it on the counter, “you want it straight or mixed? might be easier on you if it’s mixed.”

“mixed, i guess?” you say, your voice unsure. you don’t even know what mixed means— you just don’t want to look like you don’t belong here. which, clearly, you don’t, but if you convince yourself enough, it’ll make you feel a little better. 

“you ever drink before?” she asks, grabbing a shaker and some other bottles, pouring them together without even looking at what she’s doing, she’s really just looking at you. 

she’s very pretty, and it doesn’t add to your nervousness, or the already disgusting feeling that you have practically glued to you. you’re trying so hard to forget about the kiss, but it’s just wreaking havoc on your brain. and all of a sudden, it’s like you were opened up to a whole new world— one that you didn’t necessarily feel all that comfortable in. but at the same time, it kept you reeled in, like you needed to figure out what all of this was. 

but you couldn’t. you had to stand firm. you had things to do, and priorities that couldn’t falter. billie could not and would not be a part of them in any circumstance. you just had to mask it all, slip this underneath the carpet and pretend it had never happened. 

“uh, sometimes,” you lie, but it sounds weak even to your own ears. you just didn’t want to seem like you didn’t belong. even though, deep down, you didn’t. 

or did you? 

the bartender gives you a look, one eyebrow raised, like she knows you’re full of shit. but she doesn’t call you out on it.

“if you say so,” she says, sliding the glass of vodka toward you, “here. start with this. it’s on the house, just for the entertainment purposes.” 

you take the glass hesitantly, the cold condensation chilling your fingers as they curl around it, your rings clanking against it, “thanks.” 

binging it to your lips, you take a swig, and your face immediately contorts sourly as you slam the glass back onto the counter. the first sip is sharp, burning, and you barely stop yourself from coughing as it slides down your throat.

the bartender watches you with a grin, “yeah, i thought so. don’t worry, kid— you’ll get used to it.”

you’re about to respond— though you don’t even know what you’d say— when movement in the corner of the room catches your eye. at first, you think it’s just another customer, roaming around somewhere, but then you see her.

billie. 

of course she’s here, by just your luck. she’s sitting at a small table near the back, a bottle of beer in one hand and her phone in the other. her head is down, her hair falling in loose waves around her face, but there’s no mistaking her. you know it’s her. you can feel it. 

your chest tightens, a mix of anger and something you can’t quite name bubbling up inside you. without thinking, you turn on your heel and march toward her, your footsteps heavy against the worn wooden floor.

“oh, hell no.” you hear her mutter as she stands up, her glass forgotten on the table. you can tell just by the way that she’s moving that she’s drunk, and for a second, you’re taken back to that night at the diner. heat is so prominent in your face that you feel like your head will blow off— and in moments, she’s in front of you, her expression a foreign mix of confusion and irritation.

“what the hell are you doing here?” billie asks you, her voice low but tense. 

you straighten up, trying to match her energy, but it’s hard when your nerves are shot, and you’re holding a drink you don’t even want. 

“none of your business,” you reply, but it comes out shakier than you intended, as always. 

“none of my—?” she cuts herself off, running a hand through her dark hair, clearly trying to keep her cool, “you don’t even drink, y/n. what the fuck are you doing in a place like this?”

“i don’t owe you an explanation,” you snap, the words coming out harsher than you expect, but it’s exactly what you wanted. it was exactly what you needed. 

she leans closer to you, though it doesn’t seem like it’s on purpose, her eyes narrowing, “you don’t, huh? after storming off and leaving me to wonder if you even were okay? you don’t think i deserve a little bit of an explanation for that shit?” 

“billie, i—” you start, but she cuts you off.

“no, you listen to me,” she says, her voice rising slightly at you, “you can’t just kiss me, run off like i’m some kind of mistake, and then show up here pretending like nothing happened.”

“billie…”

“i wish you’d stop acting like this, like you’re too scared to feel something, to be something, and just— i mean, y/n—”

“please, stop it—“ 

“really, why would you lead me on like this if you didn’t want me? why would you go out with me if—“

“billie, would you just shut the fuck up!” 

the words burst out of you before you can stop them, loud and sharp, and the entire room seems to go silent for a moment. you freeze, the weight of what you just said hitting you all at once, and your hands immediately slap over your mouth, terrified. you’ve never sworn like that before— never sworn at all, really, and now it’s hanging in the air between you and billie, heavy and suffocating.

her eyes widen in shock, and for a second, neither of you say anything. then, slowly, her lips curve into a small, incredulous smile, and it makes the anger in you only bubble worse. 

“wow,” she says softly, “didn’t know you had that in you.”

your jaw clenches as your hands drop from your mouth, your fingers curling into fists at your sides, “don’t start, billie. just don’t.”

she tilts her head, that stupid smile still tugging at the corners of her lips. it’s like she’s enjoying this, like watching you unravel is some kind of personal victory for her.

“what? i’m just saying, sunday school, you’re full of surprises tonight.”

“enough with the nicknames,” you snap, your voice shaking, but you don’t really care anymore. the dam has broken, and all the emotions you’ve been holding back are pouring out, spilling everywhere, and it’s pointless to try and keep it together when everything is seemingly falling apart, “you don’t get to call me that, billie. not after everything. gosh, i wish you would just leave me alone.” 

billie’s expression shifts, her smile dropping almost immediately. she cocks her head to the side, “after everything? what does that even mean?”

“it means you don’t know me. not really,” you say, your voice rising. at this point, the bartender and the other three people in the bar are all looking at you, but you pay them no mind. you needed to get this out.

“and the problem with you is that you think you do, but you don’t. at all. you just push me and push me, and you never stop to think about what i might be going through. you just… assume I’ll be okay with whatever you want. well i’m not. i don’t want you to know me, i don’t want you to ask if i’m okay, but god— most important of all,” you lower your head, your words slow and deliberate, “i don’t want you.” 

her brows knit together, and she steps closer, her voice dropping. she looks like she could almost cry, but that’s honestly the least of your worries right now. you were so infuriated at her, and the tears that slipped down her reddened cheeks didn’t even phase you. you had other things to worry about. 

“t-that’s not fair,” billie finally speaks, her voice cracking underneath the weight of this heated argument, and for a split second, you almost feel bad. “you don’t let anyone in. h-how am i supposed to know what you’re going through if you don’t talk to me?”

you take a deep breath, trying to contain yourself, “because it’s not your job to fix me, billie. i don’t need you to swoop in and save me all the time. maybe i just need space— have you ever thought about that? huh? have you?” 

she flinches like you’ve struck her, and for a moment, guilt twists in your stomach. but then she straightens, her jaw tightening as she meets your gaze, finally looking up from the floor.

“okay,” she says, her voice cold now, all the warmth vanishing as she shrugs gently, “if that’s what you want. i won’t speak to you ever again.” 

“good,” you snap, though the word tastes bitter in your mouth, and you almost regret it. 

was this really what you wanted? your heart was racing at the words, the reality sinking in. she wasn’t going to ever talk to you again— but that’s what you had begged her for, and now that she’s giving it to you, it’s almost like you had changed your mind. but it was too late for that. 

billie stares at you for a long moment, her expression unreadable as she shoves her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. and then, without another word, she turns on her heel and walks away from you, leaving you standing there, idle, your anger dissipating as quickly as it came, replaced by an ache that settles deep in your chest.

you watch her go, the weight of what just happened pressing down on you like a weighted blanket. your shoulders slump, and for a moment, you think about calling after her, about saying something to fix this, but the words won’t come. your stomach feels sick and your head is hot, and you’re sure that you’re sinking into the floor as you hear the bells above the shop jingle, billie’s silhouette disappearing into the night. 

with tears brimming your eyes, you turn back to the counter, your hands trembling as you pick up your abandoned drink. the bartender glances at you, her expression a mix of curiosity and pity, but she doesn’t say anything. she just looks at you with an apologetic expression, her lips pursed as she tries to hold back from asking questions. 

you take a shaky breath and lift the glass of vodka to your lips, the burn of the alcohol doing little to dull the ache in your chest. you don’t know what you were expecting to find here tonight, but whatever it was, it feels further away than ever now.

the bartender finally speaks. “i’m so sorry, girl.” 

“it’s fine,” you mutter out, your nails scraping against your glass, your other hand busy picking at your lips. you’re engrossed in your own thoughts and the silence that consumes you, when you feel your phone vibrate. 

oliver. 

you had completely forgotten that he was on the other line, and you fish your phone out of your pocket hurriedly, your eyes being met with multiple texts and calls that you had missed from him. 

ollie: dude are you okay ??? i’m coming to get u now. 

ollie: my phone died so i didn’t hear everything but im omw. stay put. 

your chest tightens as you stare down at your phone, guilt gnawing at the edges of your already frayed nerves. you didn’t mean to worry him like that— but you can’t focus on that right now. or really, anything at all. 

all you can do is type out a quick response, your fingers trembling as they dance across the screen. you reassure him that you’re fine, and for him to do his best to get here quickly, because you were sure you were absolutely losing it. 

you look at the time, and it’s somehow already a little past midnight. your body is exhausted and your mind is racing in so many different areas, and you honestly just want to go home. 

you lock your phone and slide it back into your pocket, your hands still shaking as you cradle the empty glass in front of you. you slam it against the counter, “another.” 

“honey, i think—“

“just give me the alcohol.” you speak slowly yet sternly, and the bartender just nods, refilling your glass with straight vodka this time. you immediately drink it, the burn of it sitting heavy in your stomach, but it doesn’t do anything to warm you up, to fill the cold, hollow ache that’s settled deep in your chest.

you take another shot. and then two more, and you start to lose count. you felt trapped in your own mind, and usually, you weren’t really all that bothered by it. but after the kiss, after the blow-up in front of everyone, you were thinking and acting irrationally. you were absolutely over it— whatever consequences that were to come, you would deal with them later. but your thoughts only became louder and louder, swarming your conscience, and you would do pretty much anything to get them to disappear right about now. 

the bartender eventually refuses to serve you more shots. you’re much past tipsy now— and she can tell by the way a slow, warm grin crawls itself onto your face, and you smush your head into your hands, giggling. your skin is tingly and warm, and it’s foreign to you, but you like it. you can only think of one thing, and it’s how good you feel, and you want to wrap yourself in it and never let go. 

the bartender doesn’t push you any further about what happened, or how you’re feeling— she just nods and moves down the counter to give you space. the silence is deafening, broken only by the low hum of the bar’s music and the occasional clink of glasses. you stare down at your half-full drink, your reflection distorted in the clear liquid, and for a moment, you wonder if this is what absolute rock bottom feels like.

the sound of the bells above the door jingling pulls you out of your thoughts, and you glance up slowly, your nerves and slurred body movements not really allowing you to move much faster. your breath catches in your throat when you see him— oliver, standing in the doorway, his hair slightly disheveled, his chest heaving like he ran all the way here. his eyes scan the room quickly, landing on you, and you see the relief wash over his face as he strides toward you.

“Jesus, dude, you scared me. what the hell happened?” he asks as soon as he reaches you, his voice low but urgent.

you open your mouth to answer, but the words get stuck in your throat, and all you can do is shake your head as your eyes well up with tears again. you break in front of him, your facade faltering, and you just press your head into your palms as your body shivers with your cries. 

“oh…hey, it’s okay,” oliver says quickly, his hand reaching out to rest gently on your arm. he gives it a small, gentle squeeze, “let’s get out of here, yeah? come on. i’ll take you home.” 

you nod silently, letting him guide you off the barstool and out of the building. the night air hits you like a slap to the face, cold and sharp, and you pull your hoodie tighter around yourself as you follow oliver to his car.

the ride is quiet at first, the tension thick in the small space of his black mini cooper. oliver glances at you every now and then, his knuckles white as they grip the steering wheel, but he doesn’t say much. he’s waiting for you to speak, waiting for you to tell him what’s going on.

“i-i messed up,” you finally whisper, your voice cracking as you slump into the back seat, stretching out your limbs and resting your head against the window, “i messed up so bad, ollie.”

he doesn’t respond right away, just flicks his eyes toward you through the rear view mirror before focusing back on the road. 

“okay,” he says slowly, but you can tell he’s worried for what you’re about to tell him, “let’s start with what happened. whatever it is, we’ll figure it out. but you gotta tell me, okay? because i’m not gonna lie, you’re scaring the shit out of me.” 

you take a shaky breath, your fingers twisting in your lap as you try to find the words. your mind feels like it’s moving backwards, in slow motion, and you swear that you’re talking, but only your lips move. you rest a hand over your forehead, trying to force sound to come out, “i-i…kissed her.” 

“billie?” he asks, surprised, and you nod, your cheeks burning with shame.

“it just… it just happened,” you continue, the words spilling out of you now. people had always talked about having drunk confessions, and well, here was yours. 

“a-and then… we fought, and i s-said things— awful things, things i didn’t mean, but they just came out. and now she’s gone, and i-i don’t even know if we can fix this. i don’t know if i want to fix this.”

oliver is quiet for a moment, his brows furrowed in thought. his voice is slightly shaky now, and it’s obvious that he’s really worried about you. he peeks at you through the rear view again, “so… you kissed her— but then what? she got mad? or you got mad?” 

“both,” you say, your voice loud, though you meant to say that way quieter than you actually did, and then all the confessions come, “i was sad, r-really sad, and you guys…you guys always talk about how drinking makes you…i don’t know, n-not sad? so i took like— i can’t remember, six shots? and now i’m drunk. and me and billie got into an argument a-and i…i told her i didn’t want her. at all. i’m such an idiot.” 

oliver gasps, ready to say something, but you cut him off with your own words, “ollie…i don’t think i can do this anymore. i’m sick, i’m messed up…i-i’m not this perfect little angel that everyone thinks i am. i’m horrible and messy and…i just, i can’t anymore. really.” 

you feel oliver slam on the brakes, the car jerking slightly as he pulls over to the side of the road. the sudden stop shocks you out of your rambling, your chest heaving as you realize how out of control your words had become. your stomach felt like it was still in the other lane as you felt oliver park next to the street, and you cover your mouth, letting out an unprompted gag. 

oliver immediately unbuckles his seatbelt and turns to you, his eyes wide with concern, his hands gripping the steering wheel. 

“y/n. hey,” he says, his voice firm but still soft enough to remind you that it’s him, that you’re gonna be okay, “breathe. just breathe. it’s alright, you’re safe.”

you nod shakily, trying to pull in a deep breath, but it catches in your throat. your chest feels too tight, like there’s a rubber band around it pulling tighter and tighter with every second. you feel like you’re on the verge of snapping, so you keep quiet. your eyes slowly closing. 

“look at me,” he says, his voice steady, and you do. his eyes are locked on yours, grounding you, “you’re not horrible, okay? you’re not messy, you’re not broken, and you’re definitely not some perfect angel. you’re you, and that’s enough. it’s always been enough.”

you let out a choked laugh, shaking your head as tears spill over your cheeks. you wipe your nose, “no, but you don’t get it, ollie. you don’t know what it’s like to… to feel like you’re drowning all the time. to feel like no matter what you do, it’s never enough. for anyone. not even for me.” 

“i don’t know what that’s like?” he repeats, his voice raising slightly as he leans over the armrest, leaning further into you as your eyes hover over him, “you think i don’t know what it’s like to feel like you’re not enough? like you’re just… just barely holding it together for everyone else’s sake? because i do. believe me, i do. i just…i don’t talk about it.” 

you blink at him, startled. he rarely lets this side of himself show, the side that’s as vulnerable as you feel right now. you whisper, “w-what do you mean?” 

“i’ve had my fair share of…bad religious experiences,” he continues, his voice breaking slightly. he really never opens up to anyone, but the timing seemed appropriate, and you didn’t really mind. 

“when i came out to my parents, it took them forever to be accepting. i wasn’t welcomed in my church anymore— though i believed, and i still do. but you don’t see me running away or… or drinking myself sick. because while it feels good, it doesn’t fix anything. it just makes it worse. and seeing you like this? it kills me, okay? because you’re not supposed to go through this alone. it hurts us when you isolate yourself.” 

“but i feel so alone,” you whisper, your voice trembling as you finally sit up in the seat, your head whirring, “even when you’re here, even when billie’s here, i feel alone. like no one really gets me. not even…not even God.”

oliver’s face softens, and he reaches out to take your hand in his, his grip warm and steady as you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, “yeah, i know it feels like that. like He’s not there, like no one is. and i love you, so don’t take this the wrong way— but you’re wrong. you’ve got people who adore you, who want to help you. i want to help you. but you’ve got to let me in, okay? you’ve got to stop shutting me out. out of all of us, i think i’m the one who won’t bully you sick about this.” 

you both giggle softly, and his words sink in slowly, the weight of them pressing against your chest in a way that feels almost comforting. you nod, barely able to meet his eyes as you release your hand from his embrace, playing with your rings, “but i don’t know how.” 

“you just start,” he says simply, shrugging like it was nothing, “you tell me when you’re sad. you tell me when you feel like you’re drowning. and then, you let me help you keep your head above water. that’s what i’m here for, okay? that’s what i want to do. because you’re my best friend.” 

his sincerity is overwhelming, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel a flicker of hope. it’s small, fragile, but it’s there. 

“okay,” you whisper, your voice cracking. “okay, ollie. but i…i need you to do something for me.” 

he nods at you fervently, “yeah, anything. anything at all.” 

“i need you to help me get away from her,” you say, your voice steadier now, but still tinged with desperation, “i need you to… i need you to fake date me.”

there’s an excruciatingly long pause, this one heavier than any of the last. when oliver finally speaks, there’s a note of disbelief in his voice. he cocks his head to the side and gives you wide eyes, “hold on, you want me to what?”

“just for a little while,” you plead, your words tumbling out in a rush, “i need her to think i’ve moved on or— or that i’m not interested or something. i just need to put some space between us, and this…this is the only way i can think to do it. i just need her to leave me alone. please. while i figure things out.” 

“y/n,” he says slowly, like he’s trying to piece together the logic behind your plan, though you can tell by the look on his face that he thinks it’s stupid. “are you sure this is the best way to handle this? i mean, fake dating me? that’s… kind of extreme. and honestly, batshit crazy.” 

you shake your head at him. you’ll pretty much do anything to get away from billie right now, and this seemed like the only option. you’d much rather do this with oliver, someone you know and trust, rather than some random, icky dude in one of your classes. 

“i don’t have any other options, oliver, please. i just need you to do this for me. just for a little while. you’re the only person i can trust to help me with this.”

he sighs, and you can tell that he doesn’t think it’s a good idea, but he’ll roll with it just to help you out. he takes a good look at you, weighing your request. and finally, he speaks up, “a-all right. i’ll do it.” 

relief washes over you as you sit up even straighter, a lazy grin on your face as you nod at him.

“thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with gratitude, “thank you so much.”

“yeah yeah, whatever.” he laughs gently, but his tone firm, “but— you’re going to have to tell me everything. the whole story. no leaving anything out. you need to at least tell me what’s going on if i’m going to be your new boyfriend.” 

you nod, “okay, yeah. um…i’ll tell you everything.”

“good,” he says, and then you start. 

well, you try to. but the car is too quiet, the only sound that’s audible is the low hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of oliver shifting in his seat. you sit there, staring out the window as cars flash by, headlights and flashing colors streaking the glass like a kaleidoscope. everything outside feels distant, unreal, like you’re a side character in your own movie. 

“you good?” oliver’s voice breaks through the silence, soft but firm. it’s not the first time he’s asked, but this time, there’s something heavier in his tone. you can tell he’s a little worried, and you really don’t want to stress him out, so you nod, though it’s everything but true. 

you shift uncomfortably, your hands twisting in your lap. you’re not good. you don’t even know what you are right now. all you know is that your chest feels tight, and the words sitting on your tongue are heavy, weighted down by years of fear and uncertainty.

“i told you what happened,” you mumble out, “why do you keep asking?”

“because i don’t think you’ve told me everything,” he says, glancing at you, “i mean, yeah, you told me about billie and the fight, but… there’s more, isn’t there? you wouldn’t be this upset if there wasn’t. so, let me hear it.” 

you swallow hard, your throat dry as you try to push the lump down. he’s right— of course, he’s right. oliver always sees through you, always knows when you’re holding back. you don’t know why you thought you could avoid this. 

“ollie,” you start, your voice trembling. you pause, unsure if you can even do this, but then his gaze flicks to you again, patient and steady, and it’s enough to nudge you forward, “i need to tell you something. something… kind of big.”

he straightens a little in his seat, his brows furrowing in concern. he’s kind of scared, because based off of the events of tonight, he has no idea what you would have in store. but he just nods, trying to keep enough cool for the two of you, “okay. i’m listening.”

your hands are shaking now, and you clasp them tightly together, trying to keep yourself steady. you take a deep breath, “okay…um…i’ve been trying to figure this out for a long time, and honestly, i’ve been scared to say it out loud. so…um…i’m—?”

he doesn’t say anything, just waits, his expression soft but focused. he’s looking at you like he’s ready to hear what’s next, and you swallow thickly, looking out the window, and then at your hands. 

“i-i’m a lesbian, oliver.”

it goes awkwardly quiet. for a moment, the only sound is your own breathing, shaky and uneven, as the weight of your confession hangs in the air. you kind of feel like you shouldn’t have said it, but it’s too late— so you just wait impatiently for him to speak. 

“oh,” oliver says finally, his voice quiet, like he’s processing. and then, a little louder, “oh. well, okay.”

you glance at him, your stomach twisting with anxiety. what the hell did he mean ‘well, okay?’ was this a bad idea? should you have kept it quiet? 

“ollie…w-what? just okay?”

“yeah,” he says, and there’s a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth now. he leans up against the arm rest to get a good look at you, “okay. i mean, what do you want me to say? ‘oh shit, i never knew!’ like, it’s not like this changes how i feel about you or anything. you’re still you, y/n.”

his words hit you like a wave, but you can’t help but offer up a hearty laugh, even though there are tears streaming down your heated face. oliver disregards your laughter, though— he’s more worried about your ever flowing tears that haven’t seemed to fade since he picked you up. 

“hey, hey,” oliver says quickly, his hands hovering awkwardly like he wants to comfort you but he doesn’t know how, “why are you crying? what’s wrong?”

“nothing’s wrong,” you manage to get out between shaky breaths, “i just… i’ve been so scared to tell anyone. i thought maybe you��d… i don’t know, look at me differently or something. i don’t even know why i thought that, considering— yeah. but…”

“girl,” he interrupts gently, laughter laced in his tone, “i really don’t care who you like. as long as they’re treating you good, that isn’t my concern at all. you’re still my best friend, and that’s never gonna change. you hear me?”

you nod, sniffling as you wipe at your face. “yeah. i hear you.”

he smiles, soft and reassuring. “good. now, is there anything else you need to get off your chest? because i’m already pulled over, so we might as well make this a full therapy session.” 

you laugh weakly, the sound broken but genuine, and shake your head, “no, that’s… that’s it for now. promise.” 

“all right,” oliver says, “so, let’s get you home, yeah? you’ve had a long night.”

you nod at him, returning to the refuge of your comfy spot in the backseat, your limbs stretched out and weary as you steady your breathing. 

as he pulls back onto the road, you lean back in your seat, the weight on your chest a little lighter now. for the first time in what feels like forever, you feel like you can breathe, like everything is setting in stone. 

୨ৎ

by the time you get home, the weight of the night feels like it’s pressing into your bones, leaving you heavy and raw. you sit up on your seat as oliver wakes you, rubbing your eyes gently, “home?”

“yeah, c’mon.” he states, grabbing your bag for you and opening your door as you step into the night. it’s cold outside, and you wrap your jacket tighter around you, facing oliver and reaching out to take your bag, “thank you for taking me home. and…for everything. you didn’t have to do that.”

“no, but i wanted to,” he gives you a warm smile, “you can always talk to me. always.”

you nod as he hands you your bag, and you sling it over your shoulder as you start to walk back to your dorm. you expect to go alone, but oliver follows, insisting on walking you to your door. and you’re too drained to argue, so you let him, your legs feeling wobbly as you climb the steps to your room, his hand hovering behind your back like a safety net.

“you sure you’re okay?” he asks again, for what feels like the tenth time, but you know that he’s being sincere. 

you pause with your key halfway to the lock, turning to look at him. his eyes are wide and concerned, and you can see the way he’s itching to say more, to fix something. you give him a tired smile, “i’ll be fine, ollie. seriously. i just need to sleep this off, for real.”

he doesn’t look convinced, but he nods anyway, “if you insist. if you need anything— like, anything at all— just call me, okay? no matter what time, you know i’ll be up.”

“okay,” you promise, though you know you probably won’t. you weren’t exactly fond of the idea of using oliver as your night-time therapist, although he swore up and down it was okay. you just nod with a lazy smile, waiting for him to bid you goodbye.

he hesitates for a moment longer before finally stepping back, “well, goodnight, y/n. i love you, if you need something, just holler. and… hey, you’re brave as hell, you know that?”

he pulls you into a gentle hug before he goes, giving you a small kiss to your forehead. it’s got no romantic context behind it— oliver had always been the type to be affectionate towards you when you were down, or vulnerable. plus, he laughs afterward, and you know it’s because of your whole ��fake dating’ ordeal, which makes you laugh, too. 

you watch as he leaves, making sure that he gets to his car safe. and when he waves at you and speeds off, you twist the doorknob into your dorm, stepping inside.

it’s is dark when you enter, save for the faint glow of a lamp in the living room and emma’s bedroom’s light that shines underneath her closed door. sometimes, she’d forget to turn it off before she fell asleep, so you figured that’s why it was on. 

you shut the door softly behind you, your bag slipping off your shoulder and landing on the floor with a dull thud. the silence feels different— heavy, almost suffocating, but you push it aside, determined to jump into your bed and finally go to sleep. 

“so, you’re back.” a voice cuts through the quiet, sharp and pointed.

you freeze, your breath catching as you turn to see emma standing in the doorway to the kitchen. 

so she wasn’t in her bedroom. or, asleep.

her arms are crossed over her chest, her red hair pulled into a messy bun, and she’s clad in one of your victoria’s secret sweatshirts and a pair of red sleeping shorts. her expression is unreadable— somewhere between anger and concern, and you really hope it’s the second one.

“emma,” you start, your voice barely above a whisper, but she cuts you off almost immediately.

“do you have any idea how worried i was?” she snaps, stepping closer, “you didn’t answer my texts, my calls— nothing. and then— this shit is what blew me— oliver calls me, telling me you’re drunk at some bar? what the hell, y/n?”

your stomach twists with guilt, and you look down at your feet. “i’m sorry,” is all you can mumble. you’re honestly too tired and too drunk to deal with emma’s shenanigans tonight.

“sorry?” she repeats, her voice rising. her arms are flailing everywhere, her curly hair bouncing, and it’s clear that she’s more angry than you thought, “that’s all you have to say? you disappear for hours, get drunk off your ass, and pick a fight with billie— yeah, oliver told me about that part too— and all you can say is sorry?”

“i didn’t mean for it to get that bad,” you say, your voice cracking, “i just… i don’t know, okay? everything’s been so overwhelming, and i—”

“and you what?” she interrupts, her eyes narrowing, “decided to self-destruct instead of talking to me? i’m your best friend, y/n. you’re supposed to come to me when you’re struggling, not push me away.”

her words hit you like a punch to the gut, and tears spring to your eyes before you can stop them. you were sick of crying— it’s like that’s all you’ve doing recently, but you can’t stop it. 

“emma, you were the one that was being distant from me, so i just gave you space. i didn’t know how to tell you, okay?” you cry, your voice shattering, “i didn’t know how to tell you that i’m falling apart, that i feel like i’m losing myself. i didn’t know how to tell you that i kissed billie and freaked out because… because—”

you choke on the words, your chest heaving as the tears spill over. emma’s expression softens instantly, the anger draining from her face as she steps closer. when she sees you break, it’s like she can’t even be mad at you anymore, and she rushes over to you, grabbing your shoulders softly.

“hey, hey,” she says gently, “it’s okay. you don’t have to say it all right now. just… breathe, okay? i’m sorry that i was angry with you. i understand…i was just worried. but i’m here.”

you nod shakily, trying to get your breathing under control. emma guides you to the couch, sitting beside you and waiting patiently as you wipe at your face with trembling hands.

“i’m sorry,” you whisper again, your voice small.

“stop apologizing,” she says, shaking her head at you, “i’m not mad anymore. i just… i want to understand what’s going on with you.”

you hesitate, your fingers picking at the hem of your sweater. “i told oliver tonight…that i’m….”

“you are?”

you breathe in. you weren’t really expecting to tell emma this soon— you honestly didn’t mean to tell oliver either, but you were here now, and you might as well tell your own best friend this secret that was haunting you. 

“i’m…” you huff, looking down at your hands, “i’m a lesbian, em.”

emma doesn’t react right away, just tilts her head slightly as she processes your words, resting her chin into her hands as she looks at you with sweet, sparkling eyes, “okay,” she says slowly, “and… how do you feel about that? about saying it out loud? i mean— really, y/n, this is not a surprise, i think you know that.”

you laugh, “yeah. but…just thought i should let you know what’s going on with me.”

“uh huh,” she hums, a smile glued to her face, “i’m proud of you. this is a big step, honey! so tell me, how are you feeling?”

“scared,” you admit, giggling softly, “but also… relieved, in a way? like I’m finally being honest with myself. but it’s complicated. billie— she made me feel things i didn’t know how to handle, and then everything spiraled, and i just…i liked her. i’ll admit it, but— i-i can’t. i have too much to deal with, and i’m still not really all that comfortable with what i’m feeling. but it’s too late, so whatever…”

emma reaches for your hand, squeezing it tightly, “babe, you don’t have to figure everything out tonight. it’s okay to take your time. but you’re not alone in this, okay? i’m here, and so is oliver. we’ve got you. just, focus on what you need to focus on. see what happens— but don’t put too much pressure on yourself. you’re smart, and i guarantee you that you’ll figure this thing out, alright?”

emma’s words are a balm to your aching heart, and you nod, leaning into her shoulder as exhaustion starts to take over. she pulls you tighter into her side, giving you a light squeeze as you both sit there for a second, basking in comfortable silence.

“thanks, em,” you murmur, your eyes fluttering shut.

“always,” she whispers, running a hand gently over your hair, “have you told jules and naomi yet?”

you shake your head gently, still resting on emma’s shoulder, “nope. i haven’t really talked with them all that much, but it’ll come when it comes. i don’t really feel like dealing with all this at the moment. i’m just trying to make sure of my own feelings, first. y’know?”

emma takes a deep breath, nodding at your words, but she doesn’t say anything, which you appreciate. she could tell that all you needed was a little acknowledgement, and your heart smiles at that. 

after a few more minutes of talking, you find yourself in your room, slipped underneath the covers as emma laid next to you, scrolling on her phone. now that you were home, she insisted that she keep you company until you sleep, just incase you needed to talk. 

you hadn’t told her about the fake dating with oliver, but it seemed irrelevant right now, so you’d just save it for later. 

you spend your last waking moments thinking. you felt warm at first, finally getting everything out into the air, but now you felt like you were swarming with guilt. was this what God wanted? was He frowning down at you, disappointed and confused?

but you couldn’t think about that right now, or you’d start to downward spiral again. so you just squeeze your eyes shut, attempting to finally rest.

and then, just as sleep is about to fully claim you, your phone buzzes on the coffee table, the sound jarring in the stillness. emma reaches for it, frowning as she glances at the screen.

“y/n,” she says, her voice tense.

you force your eyes open, groggy and confused, “huh? what is it?”

she holds the phone out to you, and your stomach drops when you see the name flashing across the screen.

it’s billie.

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[allisluv]

Omg Finnick seeing reader crying after sex but she's okay it's just that it was so emotional and she needs to let it all out

content warnings: brief smut, p in v, crying, concerned finnick, teasing towards the end. this is not my best work-- im sleep deprived and kind of out of it but i havent posted in a few days so we move. idk what ive wrote so im sorry nonnie! 0.5k words

Finnick’s skin is slick with sweat as he thrusts in and out of you, eyes trained on watching your expression twist and contort with bliss.

He can tell when you're close to falling over the edge of ecstasy; you clench around his cock and your moans grow more high-pitched and needy, almost bordering on a whine.

He spurs you on with words of praise, and when your orgasm washes over you like a tidal wave, he's there to soothe you with a press of his lips against the top of your head forehead. He slots his lips over your own and slips his tongue into your mouth, swallowing the noises that you make. He spills his load inside of you, shooting hot sticky ropes of cum in your cunt before slowly pulling out and kissing you quiet.

"I'm just going to go grab a washcloth, okay, baby? I'll be right back," Finnick mumbles, rolling off of you as carefully as possible and making a beeline for the en-suite off to the side of your bed.

He turns the faucet to the left until a steady stream of warm water trickles out of the tap, and he holds a washcloth underneath it, feeling the fabric go soft as it grows damp.

Humming a mindless tune under his breath, he goes back into the bedroom only for his heart to sink when he sees you sobbing into your pillow.

Finnick’s by your side in an instant, kneeling next to you on the bed. A hundred and one thoughts bounce about in his head, but he pushes them to one side, as your safety and well being is his main priority.

“Did I hurt you?” He frets, reaching out to touch you but hesitating at the last minute. He doesn’t want to freak you out.

You shake your head no, but you’re still sobbing and it does little to soothe the ache in his chest. “Why’re you crying, then, honey?” He asks softly.

“I just— you were so sweet, and it was so emotional and you were just really nice and it felt really good.” You sob

Finnick’s brows dip in confusion before he barks out a laugh.

You whack him in the shoulder in retaliation. “It’s not funny!” You wail.

“I’m not laughing!”

“Liar.” You sniffle

Finnick composes himself enough to pull you into his arms. You go willingly and he rests his chin atop your head. “Oh, angel.” He mutters fondly. He brushes his lips against your temple and smooths a hand up and down your bare back. “You’re sure I didn’t hurt you?”

“I’m sure,” You say, wiping your eyes with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I was crying.”

Finnick smiles into your hair. “It’s alright, angel. You just gave me a fright, ‘s all.” He lifts your chin up so that you’re looking at him; there’s a mischievous glint in his eye. “Was I really that good?”

You bury your head in his chest, face flushed. “You’re such a dick.”

Finnick chuckles. “Now is that any way to talk to the guy who made you feel so good that you cried?” He teases, a smug smile on his face.

“I will grab that washcloth and ring your neck with it.”

[pinkslaystation]

Please we need second part where reader successfully escape and make a run to her parent's alone, your toxic König is too good and amazing well written 😭😭💖

toxic! König x Reader - [King and Prince: My Escape] THANK YOU!! i planned to make a bunch of one-shots under this AU, but this received a lot of love and continuation requests so here it is! I'm also finally finished with exams and coursework, so I'm actually able to breathe a bit now- oh, oh. Never mind, 2nd term starts next week, okay. Trigger warning: Kidnapping, mentions of reader's mental health, poorly translated German (oh how I love you so DeepL.com and ChatGPT) There's also a poem that's mentioned here: "Der Erlkönig" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, written in 1782. I recommend checking it out, it's a short, yet chilling read!

"Wo ist sie, verdammt?" [where the hell is she?] König mutters to himself, his voice laced with frustration and hurt.

He looks at the now empty ropes with no sign of his wife, huffing at the lack of her presence. In contrast, Leon giggles as he latches onto his father's head whilst sitting on his shoulders.

"Mama's playing a game with us, papa!" He says enthusiastically.

"Was meinst du damit?" [what do you mean?]

Leon hums in mock confusion, "Vielleicht will sie, dass wir sie erwischen." [maybe she wants us to catch her].

It's 9 P.M. and you've running in the middle of a field in nothing but an over-sized sweatshirt and joggers. Of course that fucker decided to tie you up in a basement in the middle of fucking nowhere. In fact, you don't even recall him ever owning that property, something similar to an abandoned farmhouse. But I guess the only animal getting played here...would be you.

You're questioning all the other things he might have hidden from you...other properties...maybe other women...and what's the deal with your son?

"Leon honey, listen. Mama's going to get out of here, and after that we're going to go somewhere safe, okay? We'll go to your grandparents, I'll take you home, okay?" You sweat out, exhausted after numerous times of pulling at the ropes.

"But I'm already home." Leon smiles eerily. There's something broken in that kid, you think. The way he smiles with no emotion makes you fear for your life.

You try to caress the top of his head but the ropes dig at the possibly infected gashes on your wrists, making you hiss in response.

"Mama, you're bleeding." He state inquisitively, grabbing your wrists to examine them.

Groaning at the new contact, you curse out, "FUCK. Leon, stop. Just get me out of this, please sweetie-"

You breath hitches at his expression.

A deep toothy grin is plastered on his face.

"Red's always been mine and papa's favourite colour."

When you're eye catches his red beaded bracelet, the one mirrors König's, a part of you had to come to terms with losing both your husband and your son.

"Stupid kid, should have had a daughter..." You whisper to no one in particular, stretching over thorny bushes and rocks.

You can't tell how long it's been in that room, could be days, could be weeks, but the moment you left the house, it felt like taking a breathe of fresh air for the very first time.

"König, pleas-"

"Schnuki, quiet please, I'm trying to read Leon a poem." König scolds you, whilst sitting on the floor against the wall with Leon resting on his chest. For some reason, they both like to spend time with you.

By spending time with you, that means going about their day, in your presence...just, without paying any attention to you.

"König, I need to fucking piss again."

"Es war eine kalte, dunkle Nacht, und ein Vater ritt mit seinem kleinen Sohn durch einen nebligen Wald." He reads, completely shutting your needs out. [it was a cold, dark night, and a father was riding with his little son through a foggy forest.]

"Kö..." You drag out the syllables to see whether that would make a difference to his reactions. It doesn't.

"Der Junge klammerte sich ängstlich an seinen Vater und flüsterte-" [The boy clung fearfully to his father and whispered-]

Leon speaks out now, clutching his father's shirt as he sleepily recites from the book, "Papa, siehst du ihn nicht? Dort, zwischen den Bäumen! Der Erlkönig ruft nach mir!“ ["Papa, don’t you see him? There, between the trees! The Erlking is calling me!"]

The two giggle at their reenactment.

As they continue their story, the loudly spoken story begins to anger you, for days you've been practically caged in the room, forced to listen to such mundane tasks. Reading a story before bedtime (but they happen to sleep upstairs with actual beds, leaving you to practically rot downstairs), or when König decides to blast his tunes whilst working out, or even when Leon simply chooses to study right in of your shivering body in the afternoon.

"DOES ANYONE HERE HAVE FUNCTIONING EARS?" You scream.

In a instant, König flashes his eyes on you as Leon flinches at the tone of your stern voice.

There's a moment of silence, a quiet battle between you and König, who seems to want to rip your vocal cords and shove them into a book to read about to his son.

"Was haben Sie gerade gesagt?" [what did you just say?] He murmurs with his eyebrows furrowed.

When you don't respond, your son decides to speak up for you.

He turns his head around to berate you, "Sprich dich aus." [speak up]

Your gaze turns to the floor as you watch droplet after droplet hit the surface, "...why."

There's no response. Perhaps, they didn't hear you or perhaps they simply don't know.

"Why are you doing this to me. All I wanted was a husband and a son that respected me. What the fuck did I do to deserve such a shitty family?!"

Before you know it, you begin wailing at the end of your outburst, tears rapidly streaming down your aching cheeks. You look up at the pair, hoping to feign any sense of remorse or sympathy.

But you're met with none.

"Maybe if you hadn't broken this family, you could have got what you wanted."

You're not too sure who spoke, at that point it seems like both father and son began to share a twisted mind.

A large vehicle drives by you and you let out a sigh, maybe there is an escape for you after all.

"Wait! Wait for me!"

The look of pity the driver gives you as you ask them for a lift wasn't as bad as the ones your own family have been giving you for the past few days, so you don't complain. Instead you give a vague description of your parent's house, your childhood home.

With a deep breathe, you make your way to safety, and for a second, you allow sleep to evade you that night. A sleep so deep, you don't hear the quiet ring of a phone...

"Hallo König. Ja, sie ist bei mir. Du hattest recht. Ja, sei einfach da, ich bringe sie in 20 Minuten vorbei." [hello konig. yes, she's with me. you were correct. yes just be there, i'll drop her off in 20 minutes.]

"Miss, we're here. Miss-" The voice urges you to wake up, poking your shoulder as if you were roadkill.

With a groan you awaken, at the sight of your parents house, safety as last.

You thank the driver for troubling him, and for getting blood on his seats, "I'm sorry I don't have anything to repay you with...if you give me a minute, I can run in and get you some cash?" You ask, apologetically.

The stranger shakes his head, "No need, payments been taken care of already."

Oh. Okay, cool.

You squint your eyes in confusion, but choose to brush it off, it's been days since you've engaged in human interaction, maybe you just forgot the small quirky things a person can say.

"...okay, thanks again."

"Bis ich dich wiedersehe." [until i see you again.]

You stop midstep, looking back at the stranger, but he's already hit the pedals and driven off without a trace. That was German, right? See you again?

It seems like a coincidence, and you want to brush it off, but the way he spoke mimicked König's dialect a little too well....Many people speak German though...

You reach the door of your parent's house, admiring yourself in the reflection of the door. A frail being, dressed in tattered clothing, with blood marks decorating your wrist. Afraid of being bombarded with questions, you pull the sleeves of your sweatshirt down and re-tie your hair into something more acceptable.

The door opens and your met with the relieved look of your poor mother.

"Sweetheart, I'm so glad you're okay!" She pulls you into a bone crushing hug, with her face tucked tightly into your shoulder.

Humming against her, you question her, "I'm okay...wait, how did you know? Where's dad?"

"He's okay sweetheart, he's in the living room. But don't think you're off the hook, now that you've come back." She smiles, kissing your forehead, as she guides you through the house.

You scoff, "What do you mean?"

"Running away is a serious matter, don't take it lightly, sweetheart. How do you think we've all felt? I understand, if you're you know..." She starts.

"...Know what?"

"You know, you've become a little..." She spins her finger around her ear in a circular motion, "I guess...cuckoo! Um...but don't worry, we're already looking into treatments."

You stare at her blankly, stopping her, "Ma. I'm fine. W-what- I'm not crazy, where on Eart-"

Every muscle in your body flinches.

It's like your body hit flight or fight mode but instead decided to switch off. You've never remembered a time where your mind has ever been so silent, but I guess now counts.

Those blue eyes.

2 pairs.

Staring back at you, soullessly.

Not a word is spoken.

And yet both your parents seem to be gleaming at the scene, of what looks like a family reuniting.

Family.

If that's even what this is.

"Why did you run away from us, schatz?" [darling]

You can't distinguish between your husband and your son.

"We've missed you."

thank you for coming to my ted talk.

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[ronancecats]

ok you got me super curious. why don't you like steve?

This is gonna be a long one, so unbuckle your seatbelts, slam on the brakes, and do a front flip out of the windshield.

I'm going to break it down by season because that will help me get all my points down, and I don't want to leave anything out. Also, a little disclaimer: I do like Steve's writing, and I appreciate the way he's developed and the role he plays, but with that being said, I still don't like him as a character.

I'm going to try and explain each reason the best I can, but I low-key suck at that so I'm sorry if anything seems confusing.

SEASON 1:

season 1 is the season that is most self-explanatory of why I don't like him, I don't think anyone genuinely likes him in season 1.

-He literally slut shamed Nancy. Like...I don't care if he was only a teenager/had bad friends. He would've been 17 and old ENOUGH to understand the consequences of that and that it would hurt Nancy...that's why he did it in the first place.

-he was awful to Jonathan, and I'm not necessarily talking about the breaking camera thing, I'm talking about what he said to him before the fight. He called him queer (a slur back in the 80's), insulted his family, and insinuated that he had something to do with his little brother's disappearance.

-He pressured Nancy into sex. NO, HE DID NOT SA HER. It was consensual, but with that being said, something can still be consensual and enjoyed while having pressure on top of that. Also, he didn't stop Carol when she was mocking Nancy and making her uncomfortable; he was smug about it. But yes, I understand he was just a teenager then.

-He just, in general, didn't respect her boundaries at all and made Barb's disappearance about himself AT FIRST.

SEASON 2:

-He left Nancy, black out drunk, at a party. Yes, he was heartbroken, but he left her there and she was really lucky that Jonathan was there.

There's not much else in season 2 honestly. Mostly my feelings about him in s2 come from the first couple episodes when all he wanted was to make Nancy forget about her guilt and leaving her at the party. But yeah, I don't care about him in s2.

SEASON 3:

There's nothing necessarily bad about him in s3. I just hate how they made him this big character but then pushed Jonathan to the side, but that has nothing to do with his character. That's just a personal pet peeve I have with the duffers.

S3 was definitely his best season and the only one I can say I liked him in. They let him focus on his platonic relationships instead of making him chase after Nancy the whole time, and I like that. If they kept him like this for s4, I probably wouldn't dislike him as much as I do, but they just had to make him go back to that and it ruined him for me. Hopefully in s5 they'll let him be like his s3 self again.

SEASON 4:

-the six nugget speech. OH MY GOD BROTHER EUGH. I could make a whole essay about this, but long story short, it was completely unhinged and just shows he only wants Nancy for his dream, and he doesn't really care about her dreams in a romantic sense. He's in love with the idea of her, not her.

In conclusion, I only like Steve when they don't make his entire character revolve around Stancy and that dead relationship. Let Stancy die, I BEG OF YOU. It's better for Steve, Nancy, Jonathan, and literally everyone who watched the damn show without rose-colored glasses for Steve.

If they just let the love triangle die in s2, I can almost guarantee that I would like Steve more. But alas, they didn't and kept it around as if we don't already know how it's going to end.

Anyway, I probably went into way more detail than you wanted me to, but oh well. I wanted to be honest.

[sparxemberflame]

Even now... I wish that you would Please talk to me. Tell me how you're feeling and what you want and what I can do to help.

[suprsingr]

I have never in all my life had so many emotions about a tumblr poll but oh my GOD I'm so happy Garak won, lmao. That was so tense.

[ranoutofficssoiwritemyown]

You decide to sleep on the couch after an argument

love and deepspace

characters: Zayne, Sylus (pt2 with Rafayel and Xavier here)

note: they might be a little mischaracterized so bear with me.

Zayne

Usually, arguments with Zayne don’t get this heated. There was no yelling, not on his part at least, but he could be really cold with his words when he wanted to be. Not that you were any better. Some things you said hurt him to no end. So you came up with a decision - to sleep on a couch tonight. To be honest, it was more because to be petty, than not wanting to spend a night beside him. You gathered your pillow and blanket and got comfortable on the couch, which made Zayne sigh out loud when he entered the room.

“What is this?”

You turned your back to him as an answer. Another sigh comes out of his mouth. He’s exhausted, physically and emotionally, and you acting like a brat doesn’t ease anything at all.

“I know you’re mad, dear but is this necessary?”

No answer.

“Alright”

He left the room and before you could convince yourself that you didn’t care he was back with a blanket of his own and took a seat in an armchair. You turn your head towards him in confusion.

“What are you doing?”

“I guess we’re not sleeping in bed tonight”

“I’m not. You can go”

“I believe I didn’t stutter”

You scoffed and turned around again.

“suit yourself”

Minutes pass and sleep doesn’t come to you. Whether it’s because of an uncomfortable couch or an absence of his arms around you is hard to say, but after turning around thousands of times and still not being able to sleep is frustrating.

Finally, Zayne had enough of watching your struggle.

“How about we go to bed?”

“No” came your response after a second of hesitation. With a small amused smile on his face, he hovered over the couch.

“What do you say… I take you to bed and you can curse me out for it tomorrow?”

You shifted a little but didn’t answer, which made his smile widen. He gathered you in his arms and your lack of objection was all he needed to take you to your room and tucking you in bed. Even though you seemed to warm up he didn’t know how far he could push you, so kneeling beside the bed to be on your eye level he started:

“If you still need space I can-”

“Stay”

He smiled at you tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Okay”

He got up and kissed your forehead before slipping in beside you and pulling you closer.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter

"Shh, we'll talk about it tomorrow... but I'm sorry too"

You smile a little. You two will sort this out tomorrow.

Sylus

What Sylus says, goes around. His word is the law. This is what he’s used to. That's how it's always been.

Then you came into his life and even though he’s still in charge of how things go in the N109 zone, you just need to say the word and everything will be how you like it. No questions, no hesitation. He would give you the world if you so much as whispered the need. Whatever you want, whatever you need, he will make it happen.

Unless, when it comes to your safety. Now don’t get me wrong. Sylus knows you can defend yourself and then some. But when it comes to the N109 zone, there are things Sylus knows better than you. Additionally, The fact that you can be reckless in your battles does nothing to help ease his worries.

That was the reason for the heated argument tonight. Sylus with his harsh words and snarky remarks always finds a way to infuriate you. So you two go on and on for half an hour now and none of you seems to back down. You storm off to your room and take your things to get comfortable on the couch. However, on your way out Sylus blocks your way. He raises an eyebrow at the blanket and pillow in your arms.

“Now, what exactly do you think you are doing, sweetie?”

“move”

“I asked you a question”

“I’m not sleeping beside you- Sylus” you exclaim as he hoists you over his shoulder. you punch and scratch his back but to no avail.

“Careful with your claws, kitten”

He drops you on the bed climbing over you.

“Now listen, this is what will happen. You will stop acting like a wild kitten and sleep beside me. I am sorry for hurting you but we will discuss it tomorrow, when we are both a lot calmer. Understood?”

You don’t want to give in so easily. You also don’t want to sleep without him tonight. So you nod avoiding eye contact. He, however, doesn’t accept it and raises your chin with his finger to make you look at him.

“Use your words, sweetie”

“Yes”

“Splendid” He removed himself from you so you could get under the blanket. He laid beside you and pulled you closer so your head was resting on his chest.

"Sy... I'm sorry too"

"So I'm Sy now?"

This man.

"Nevermind, you're still a prick"

You try to remove his arm but he holds you tighter as he laughs.

"Alright, alright. I'm sorry, sweetie"

You felt him kiss the crown of your head as he caressed your shoulder with his thumb. you return to your previous position and listening to his heartbeat, sleep lured you in soon enough.

[primofate]

"Where'd you get that bruise--Oh," in which your Genshin lover gets a good look at the first hickey he left

Warnings: please excuse mistakes as I'm on a time crunch and also sleep deprived, suggestive but still safe for work, humorous in some parts

Other works in this series: (You say I love you for the first time)

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Lyney, Neuvillette, Scaramouche, Tartaglia, Tighnari, Wriothesley, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader  

Aether

gets flustered

"Uh-Umm... Maybe, you should..."

he wants to say cover it up but who is he to tell you what to do?

Starts to second guess if he really gave you that

Will start to think about the events of last night and deflates with embarrassment

Finally points it out, feels kind of bad that he left a mark

"It's just...distracting...I'm sorry if it hurt,"

Albedo

stares at it for the longest time.

There's a half smile, half amused look on his face, like he wants to be happy about it but doesn't want to be too obvious.

Just chuckles and points it out without any shyness whatsoever

"It's rather obvious, but do with it what you will,"

Comes up with some sort of concealing potion to help you hide it

Brews about a 100 of 'em

Alhaitham

Sort of does a double take, looks at it for a few seconds then looks you in the eye

"I'd advise you to hide it,"

he really only says that to keep things professional when the two of you go out

but in the next second he snakes a hand up your arm with a small secret smirk between the two of you

"However, I can't say that it won't happen again...Specially when..."

He recalls the events of last night at this moment, and it seems as if he's staring into your soul. He breaks away from you with a slight hum.

"...I best be going now."

He leaves you confused, but he only hurried off because he felt an urge to give you another one then and there.

Ayato

chuckles to himself

"Well, there's no hiding that I enjoyed myself,"

but gives you helpful suggestions on how to conceal it or at least make the colour less obvious, like putting ice against it, or something.

Speaking of ice, you can simply get it from the kitchen but Ayato is a tease... "I suppose my dear sister can adequately help you with that...Though what, pray tell, would you tell her?"

You kind of shrug and say that you'll tell her an animal bit you.

Ayato is amused "An animal," but there's a twinkle and hint of lust in his eyes. "Yes, perhaps that's what I become when it involves you. The statement isn't exactly a lie,"

Cyno

is silent. Not sure if he's happy about it or horrified.

Feels like a crime cause it looks like a bruise.

Does not say anything for a good minute because he simply doesn't know what to say and is talking to himself in his mind

Like Was I really the one who did that? Last night must've been...

Snaps out of his stupor when he's reminded of the events and clears his throat to catch your attention.

"Y/N...You...I...I've managed to leave a mark...on your neck..."

You absentmindedly touch it and let out a small ohhhhhhh in understanding

Clears his throat again and looks away, pretending to be busy with something. Flustered and doesn't know what else to say.

Dainsleif

Eyebrows involuntarily raise up at the marks.

Points it out immediately

"My dear, it seems that I had a favourite spot last night," and taps on your neck to let you know what exactly he means.

"I can conceal it with a little trick of mine, if you don't mind," he says he can make it invisible to the ordinary eye but some "special" people can see it, so...

"I suppose if you run into the traveller that you'd have to be honest about it. Hm? No, I don't quite mind if they know of our relationship,"

Diluc

is surprised, then apologetic

He didn't know is fully aware how rough he had been last night

Apologizes with a slight tint of red on his cheeks and can't seem to pry his eyes away from it.

"My apologies, Y/N. It looks like I was rather...careless...last night. You should wear something with a collar today...or perhaps, my coat?"

Is seriously considering repenting about it

Itto

"Whoa--"

Is legit about to throw hands but then remembers

"Oh yeah. I did that." while scratching his head bashfully

No shame about it afterwards, even has the gall to say

"I'm surprised it doesn't look worse! It was pretty wild last nig--"

You have to cover his mouth to save yourself from embarrassment

Kaeya

smirks and leans in close to brush his fingers against the hickey.

"It isn't the most flattering of marks but... it gives me quite the sense of accomplishment,"

winks, deadass tries to give you another one right away.

"How about we try that again? Just to even it out on both sides of your neck,"

is only half joking

Lyney

mischievous laugh

is more happy about it than shy, embarrassed or apologetic

"That wasn't very nice of me wasn't it?" but is still smiling

"Unfortunately I don't think I have any magic tricks up my sleeve to fix this one,"

Grabs and hugs you by the waist "I guess we'll just have to stay in, the two of us, until it's unnoticeable"

always looking for an excuse to spend alone time with you.

Neuvillette

clears his throat almost immediately when he sees it, like he choked on water

"Y/N," he starts rather sternly but falters and takes a few seconds to think.

"May I suggest wearing a scarf today?" is awkward about pointing it out so goes the roundabout way. You're so confused because it's the middle of summer.

"Well," he coughs once to try an explain to you. "I didn't have all manners of restraint last night...You were simply...irresistible,"

points it out by gently thumbing at it

Scaramouche

shit-eating grin at the sight of it

Doesn't tell you to cover it up, most likely wants you to go parading around with it.

"Tsk. What's the harm if people ask? Just be honest and tell them," he's just fucking around with your head now

but snatches your wrist and looks you straight in the eye with a confident smirk "And be sure to tell them who gave it to you. That'll teach them to back off,"

Tartaglia

laughs but is slightly apologetic

"Couldn't hold myself back, I'm sorry. How can I make it up to you?"

You tell him that the next time he leaves a hickey, he should leave it somewhere where it's more concealed.

"Oh?" sudden glint in his eyes. You might have said the wrong thing. "No take backs, Y/N,"

I think you know what or where he's thinking about

Tighnari

Doesn't say anything at first but immediately whips up a remedy for it. Some sort of green paste that helps with inflammation.

"Here," and hands you the bowl of herbs. "For that,"

He doesn't point at it but instead eyes it rather obviously

He also watches you put the paste on "Alright, just leave it for a few minutes and it should heal wonderfully,"

He doesn't exactly feel guilty but he's more worried that people will look at you weirdly.

"I suppose I'll have to be careful next time," with a sigh.

Wriothesley

laughs but bashfully face palms and tilts his head backwards

Recovers quickly and smiles apologetically

"Sorry love, couldn't hold myself back it looks like," lovingly takes your face in his palms

Can't hold his smile back "But can you blame me? I'm not gunna hide that I was way too excited,"

Suggests you to put a bandage of some sort over it.

"I'll try to be careful next time, but no promises,"

Xiao

Freezes while looking at it

For a split second is confused where you got such a mark but then flusters himself when he remembers it was from him.

"...Y/N..."

seriously does not know what to say

stands there staring at it that you finally just check in the mirror yourself. He hears you gasp and he kind of winces to himself and now feels a little guilty.

"I...didn't mean to hurt you,"

You quickly tell him it doesn't hurt, but you were just surprised.

Thinks for a moment, then mumbles, you can barely hear him "...So it's alright to do it again?"

Zhongli

chuckles, not shy about it. just amused.

"It's no one's fault except my own. I merely wasn't paying heed to how...carnal...my desires were,"

he again chuckles as he explains.

"Not to worry darling, I'm sure Bubu Pharmacy has something to remedy it. I'll be back with it in tow,"

brushes his fingers against the hickey as some sort of apology and promise that he'll fix it

End

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[lymtw]

Aftercare

Aftercare with Toji, where after all the roughness and manhandling is over with, he can't take his eyes off of you. All he cares about is making sure that you're not in excruciating pain, yet he hasn't been able to say a word for the past five minutes. You've pressed so many tender kisses to his face and expressed that you're okay enough times to him, but he can't seem to drop the smallest, lingering coil of guilt he feels at the sight of your scuffed up body. You look like you fought off a bear and ripped octopus tentacles off your skin—simultaneously, with all the scratches, bruises, and hickeys that littered you from your jaw to your ankles.

"Quit staring," you say, bringing your knees up and crossing your arms, your hands gripping your biceps.

"Nah- baby..." he finally says, softly, like he's quickly trying to justify the gaze he had set on you. "Come here."

Toji makes quick work of crushing this wave of insecurity that threatens your peace. He knows what you just endured was not the softest experience, and that you practically let him—a man capable of showing the aggression of a pack of wolves, devour you. Really, he did not hold back at all.

You slide down the bed and pull the covers over your body, laying your head on his chest with an arm thrown over his midsection. He pulls you close with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, and kisses the top of your head. "You know I love you, right, mama?"

"Mhm," you hum. Minutes ago you would have thought those words were a cruel joke being played on you with the way he gripped onto you like he wanted it to hurt.

"Wasn't trying to hurt your feelings by staring at you like that. Just did a lot of damage, this time, and it looks like it hurts... a lot."

"I'm fine," you repeat, for the nth time. You look up at him, briefly, sparing a smile before resting your cheek on his chest again. "A hot shower will melt it all away, I promise," you mumble.

He brushes over one of the many stains he left on the side of your neck. "My little trooper," he sighs, very much relaxed by your side. "You know i'd be proud even if you told me you were hurting." He knows it'll take more than a shower to get all these new semipermanent tattoos off your pretty skin, but for the sake of not making you feel small, again, he shuts up about it.

"I know," you assure. "I just don't wanna burden you. You're probably just as tired, if not more."

"What do you need?"

You lift your head again and look at him, confusion filling out your features. "You heard me, didn't you? I can take care of myself."

"I know that, and I don't doubt it for a second, but you're really gonna reject me?" He hisses, dramatically clutching his chest. "Damn, mama, just like that?"

"Well, no. Of course not-"

"Right. Of course not," he says, with that horrible tendency he has of cutting you off when the situation benefits you. "Gonna ask you one more time, and if you don't answer, i'm just gonna do what I want for you. What do you need?"

You had to think about it for a minute, about how you wanted him to help you. Independence shone through your thoughts. Everything he could help you with, you could also do alone. You didn't want to be needy.

"Five..." He's timing you, now. "Four..." The countdown has your brain scrambling to pick something. Anything, but you're blanking, losing second by second the already little time you were gifted. "Three... it shouldn't be this hard," he teases, a smirk on his face.

"I don't know, um."

"Two... you're gonna lose the option of telling me what to do, doll."

"No- I don't know."

"One." The countdown ends. "Alright," he groans, pulling you up with him as he sits up. "Let's go."

–

Sure enough, once the lukewarm water hit your skin, you gained a burst of energy. You made the washing of your body an amusing, yet tedious task for Toji. With all your little excitement fueled dances and laughter, what should have been a ten minute session turned into a twenty minute one.

"Doll, turn around. Let me get your back," Toji says, holding back a grin at the sight of you trying to soothe the burning sensation you feel in your nose after inhaling water.

You turn your back to him, before jovially turning to face him again. "Joking, joking," you say, when you catch his lidded eyes. You quickly turn your back to him, again, with giggles slipping past your lips.

He sighs, unable to hold back the gentle curl of his lips any longer. "What am I gonna do with you?" He lathers you from the nape of your neck to your lower back, with soap. The contrast of the white foam and the darkened stains on your skin, were enough to have him thinking about what ended just a little over half an hour ago. There wasn't a spot on you that didn't have some mark of his on it. Your shoulder blades and spine were mottled with stains of his lips, and your hips had opaque fingerprints on them.

You winced and took a step forward, away from Toji's touch, successfully pulling him out of his zoned out state. "You're scrubbing the scratches too hard," you say, turning to him while running your hands over the tender skin.

"Shit," he gently pulls you back and turns your back to him again, "sorry, princess." A few soothing kisses are pressed into the strikes, enough of them to make you forget that it even stung in the first place. He makes sure his mind stays out of the gutter, at least until he's done washing you, so that he doesn't hurt you again.

After showering, you stayed in bed while Toji went to the kitchen to make some tea for you. He did this for you after every night of intimacy, to expedite the betterment of your exhausted throat. He also knows of the calming properties that ease you into slumber. He wants nothing more than for you to sleep off the soreness your body retains.

"There you go, baby. I know you don't like it, but it'll make your throat feel better, so you have to drink the whole thing." He settles down next to you, on his side of the bed and watches you sip on the steaming hot drink.

The familiar scrunch of your nose appears at the taste that hits your taste buds, a sight that Toji has started looking forward to. "I hate the flavor just a little more every time I drink it. Oh well," you say, taking another sip, ignoring the scalding heat that embraces your tongue.

"I know. It sucks," he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Hopefully, next time we choose correctly and get something you'll like."

You set the mug down on the nightstand and turn to him. With warm hands, you cup his cheeks and tilt his head up slightly.

"What?" He asks, his eyes directed towards you.

Your smile evolves into a short giggle as you stare at one pinpointed spot on the side of his neck. "I got you, too. Right..." you drag a finger down his neck, gently pressing on the dark spot you left on him. "...here."

His hand tracks your touch and replaces it with his own, feeling the mark. "Damn right, you did. You got me, baby," he says through a grin. "My turn?"

You sigh, with faux irritation. "Fiiine."

"Let's see..." He cups your cheeks the way you did his. "I got this whole area here." His thumb brushes over your jawline, dragging beneath it to where the marks end. "Then there's this entire patch right here." He turns your head, exposing the reddish-purple splotches on the side of your neck to the light. His eyes trace the slope that leads to your shoulder, spotting the marks that remain visible beneath the collar of your shirt. He coordinates his touch with his sight, dragging his fingers over your delicate skin. "Right here," he says, after pulling the collar of your shirt down your shoulder, revealing more of his marks.

"Okay, okay. You win," you say fixing your shirt, covering up again.

"There's one right there," he continues, tapping the column of your neck. "Some more there," his finger glides over your left collarbone.

"Toji, I swear, if you point out one more, i'm gonna bite your finger off."

He stares at you silently, the corners of his lips twitching as you watch him, intently. After a few seconds, he slowly starts directing his finger towards a mark on your chest. Once he makes contact with your skin, he gently presses on the smear of color that marks it, still holding eye contact with you. "Here, too."

You swat his hand away from you, and huff. "Why did I even try to threaten you? You want me to bite your finger off, huh?"

"Not in the slightest. I just knew you weren't actually gonna do it, so I pushed it."

You cross your arms. "Whatever. I'm just gonna put a hoodie on so you can't look at them anymore."

"Woah, baby, put down the knife," he says, hands up in playful surrender. "No need to take drastic measures over this. Don't hide all my hard work."

"Hard work," you mutter, an incredulous scoff following.

Toji's gaze falls on your lips. "You're pouting like you wanna be kissed," he teases.

"And you're... you're being annoying," you say, covering your mouth with your hand, concealing the involuntary lift of your lips.

"Yeah, but you still want me to kiss you," he says, with a sly, knowing smirk on his face. "Look at you. Look at that blush. Even your knuckles are red, doll."

"Oh my god..." you groan with embarrassment. You use both hands to cover your entire face, now.

He chuckles, pulling you into his arms. "You're so pretty, ma. A total work of art." His hands have never gotten lost on you, but for now, in any way he holds you, he'll be able to see the trails his lips left behind.

"Stop..." you mumble, smiling softly at the sweetness poured into his words.

"You look mine, with all these marks," he says, pulling down the collar of your shirt a little, to see the blots of color that appear at the start of your spine.

"Shut up," you say, blushing furiously against his chest.

"Sounds like you still want that kiss, huh?"

"Not anymore," you say, lifting your gaze to meet his. The look in your eyes betrays every ounce of your denial. Toji can very clearly tell that you're lying.

"Those rosy cheeks are saying something else," he says, grinning. "Damn, look at those pretty lips. They're ready for me."

"If you want to kiss me, just say so," you chide, lightheartedly.

"I'm gonna kiss you so hard, doll," he says, cupping your cheeks again. "Your lips lack a little more of me."

[monamipencil]

— (sulky) lover of mine | c.sc

genre; fluff, established relationship, gn! reader | tw; sulky cheol, mentions of sex (nothing explicit), uh .. mentions of pp? | a/n; i was struggling to name this lmao. anyways, happy birthday to @vitaminkyeom, resident seungcheol simp (add gyu and dk to it), physics hater and the tweedledee to my tweedledumb <33 i hope you like this and have a great year ahead !! just a lil present from me 🫶

“seungcheol, you really can't be upset about this.”

you bite your tongue as soon as those words leave your mouth. why? because seungcheol will show you that he can be upset about this.

what's this you ask? you left to use the restroom, without him.

normally, it'd seem childish and petty. but, you'd been away for a good three months for work. almost hundred days went by without him by your side. understandably, he had been very clingy ever since you returned back.

you hold back a chuckle and hug his sulking figure, resting your head on his broad back. when that doesn't work, you move to sit in front of him, cradling his face in your hands. a small smile cracks on his face but he still puts up his upset demeanor, turning his face away from you.

carefully watching his reactions, you lean closer. he senses you getting closer, and closes his eyes, expecting a kiss from you. when his anticipated kiss doesn't arrive, his neck snaps to look at you.

you giggle, reaching for a bottle behind him and settle back. he looks at you, offended and hurt (he's a little dramatic). a deep pout settles on his face and you see gears turning in his head.

before he could overthink and come to conclusions on his face, you crawl onto his lap, peppering kisses all over his face. “you don't love me anymore,” he mutters through his pout.

“i do love you,” you assure him, kissing his forehead before moving to his temple.

“not as much as you used to,”

“you're right.” a furrow nestles between his eyebrows, big brown eyes staring at you with actual hurt.

“i just love you more.” you kiss his lips, savoring the feeling of his plump lips against yours. seungcheol relaxes, melting into the kiss. he holds the back of your head and your waist, tilting his head to kiss you deeply.

your lips slot together perfectly, and your breaths mingle together. you pull back enough to keep your lips brushing. you watch as his eyes flutter open. a comfortable silence washes over you both, and minutes pass by just staring at each other's eyes.

“i missed you,” he whispers, lips brushing yours.

“hmm, i missed you too.”

“i'm still mad that you left to use the restroom without me.”

“it's ok. when you use it, i'll accompany you. i can hold you—hmphh.” he shushes you with a kiss that melts into him smiling against your lips. pink dusts his cheek as he thinks about what you just said.

“no thanks.” he says, blush taking over his cheeks.

“what? i was about to say that i'll hold your hand,” he doesn't stop laughing, giggles erupting from his stomach.

“what did you think, pervert?” seungcheol shakes his head, keeping it down as he continues to giggle. you watch in amusement as he hides his face and blushes.

“seungcheol?”

“yes?” accompanied by a giggle.

“you do realise we've had sex before right?”

he starts giggling even more profusely, blushing and curling up into a ball. you stare at him, confused while he shifts closer to you. he rests his head on your shoulder, an ever present smile on his face.

“i didn't know you liked me like that.” accompanied by yet another giggle. you shake your head, a smile trickling onto your face.

you poke his dimple, “i think i broke you.”

the room fills with the giggles of your boyfriend.

[totalswag]

Hi! I have a request if you are up for it!

Okay so how about reader and Drew are together and they have a fight before an interview with the obx cast. And reader is skipping her meals and didn’t sleep properly. During the interview she zoned out multiple times while fidgeting with her fingers. The others notice that she’s unusually quiet and are a little confused and concerned about what happened. Maddie pulls you aside when she notices that you’re hands are slightly shaking due to the lack of food and sleep and asks if everything is fine and maybe Drew hears it and is concerned. I just need some angst

fractured moments ⎯ 𝑫𝑹𝑬𝑾 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑹𝑲𝑬𝒀

authors note super sorry this is so late! i’m catching up with my requests atm (bare with me lovies). please remember to take care of yourselves beautifuls. i hope you like this <3

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summary getting into a heated argument with your boyfriend, drew, before an interview with your co stars. you haven’t been taking care of yourself, you co stars notice and drew is concerned.

warning(s) angst, fighting, loss of sleep, not eating enough.

Today was gonna be scattered with interviews back to back⎯a long ass day. Been up since four in the morning to get ready then drive to the studio where the rest of your co stars await.

Drew and you had a fight. The fight had left both of you hurt and frayed. Words you couldn't take back echoed in your head, leaving a terrible taste in your lips. You both shedded a few tears.

When you arrived at the studio for the Outer Banks cast interview, you put on a faint smile, hoping it would be enough. The rest of the cast was already present—Maddie, Clarcia, Chase, Madison, Rudy, and JD—chatting and laughing as usual. You attempted to join in, but the pain in your chest made it difficult to concentrate.

"Hey, is everything okay?" Maddie asked softly, putting her right arm around your shoulder, pulling you in close, before sitting in the chair next to you.

"I'm good," you lie but making your voice promising to her⎯so she won't be suspicious.

The interviewer takes a seat across from you, introducing herself to everyone and preparing to ask questions. 

You, on the other hand, remained quiet. Drew was all you could think about, along with the fight. Fiddling with your hands on your lap and looking around your co stars. 

"Y/N, Scarlett, what do you like about your character?" the interviewer inquired passionately moving in her chair. 

You slowly move your head to the side, smiling as best you can. "I would say her compassion for friends and standing up for herself, even in difficult situations," you explain cautiously. 

The cast nods in unison, smiling at your response. Drew placed his right knee over his left, arms crossed over his chest, and intently listened to your words.

As the interview went on, your friends began to notice your typical laughter and outgoing self wasn't in the room. Out of everyone in the cast, you have a bunch of energy, always putting a smile on everyone's faces⎯making jokes, etc.

At the end of the interview, everyone said thank you and goodbye. Maddie's hand touched your bicep as you were getting out of the chair and guiding you to the corner.

Taking both hands, I said, "Baby, there's something going on in your thoughts. Tell me what's bothering you. We're all concerned.

"It's just⎯I haven't been eating lately, Drew and I had this fight this morning, I've been going through so much lately," you say, pausing in the middle of your sentence as you feel tears welling up in the corners of your eyes.

Maddie quickly hugs you, holding you tightly, rubbing your back in gentle circles, allowing you let everything out. Madison and Carlacia come over, giving you a warm hug. They tell you they're here for you and encourage you take good care of yourself.

"We love you so much, Y/N, it breaks our hearts you're feeling this way," Madison responds, "have you spoken to Drew?" Carlacia questions. 

In response to Carlacia's question, you shake your head.

All a sudden, Drew's voice appears, your head quickly looking up. Your eyes soften seeing him in front of you.

"Hey, could I please speak with her?" His voice was unusually quiet as he asked. 

After a moment of hesitation, Maddie nodded and gave your arm a comforting squeeze before leaving with Madison and Carlacia.

Drew's blue eyes searched yours as he stared at you. Why didn't you tell me, Y/N?

You said, without raising your voice above a whisper, "I didn't want to make things worse."

His face twisted. "I really regretted everything. What I said was not intended. I hate seeing you in this state."

His touch was warm and comforting as he reached for your shaking hands, causing tears to prickle your eyes. You muttered, "I didn't mean what I said either."

With one hand gently caressing gentle circles on your back and the other behind your head, Drew draws you close to his warm body. He apologized in a whisper and said, "I don't want you to treat yourself that way."

"I love you so much, baby." "To me, you are everything."

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[deadsnakey]

𝐘𝐎𝐔'𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒, 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋..𝐍𝐎 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄'𝐒.

𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐘!𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 𝐱 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐱 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄

—> Being childhood best friends with both Mattheo and Theodore was an adventure on it's own. Although, what if they start acting more possessive and protective towards you once they develop feelings for you?

Thank you for requesting @slutsluvpaola - your ask here!💗

—> Childhood best friends to lovers trope, very fluffy, maybe a little suggestive, none toxic possessive behaviour & jealousy.

—> When you guys were kids, they were protective of you.

—> If anybody was messing with you or hurting you, they'd do something about it asap like it was on sight and they always left that person scared shitless to even go near you.

—> To the point where ppl just stopped fucking w u like they didn't have the balls to even try.

—> Cool now y'all are in Hogwarts and as they get older, they seem to be more handsy and possessive over you.

—> I mean you weren't complaining all that much. although, it would get annoying sometimes when you just wanted some space or to talk to someone or do something without them breathing down your damn neck.

—> But in third year you started getting feelings for mattheo, then Theodore a month later and you were so confused.

—> You kept the act up, just like they did, but eventually it got harder to pretend in fifth year.

—> When they were always hands on with you - hand on your thigh, holding your hand each, always sitting next to you every chance they got, pulling you into their laps randomly as they wrap their arms around your waist and nuzzle their faces in the crook of your neck.

—> Yeah, you were a goner.

—> The boys probably started falling for each other in the end of fourth year, so in fifth when they started liking you as well they too, were extremely confused .

—> Mattheo was bad especially because he's bad with his own emotions.

—> They will be at every party you're attending too, trust.

—> even if one can't make it and it's js Matty going w you or just Theo, one of them had to be with you.

—> It doesn't matter if you're in the same house or not, better marking on you tbh.

—> Mattheo hands on your waist behind you, Theodore in front of you holding one of your hands to guide you.

"c'mon, sweet girl, let's get some drinks at the bar." Mattheo said, letting Theodore lead the way. Mattheo got a cup, filled it with the drink you wanted before handing it to you. "Here, princess." Then repeating for Theodore and then himself. Satisfied, they go and find the rest of your friends; seemingly in the corner where the seats are, talking.

"look who finally came! The love birds of the group." Lorenzo snickered. "How about you go see if you can get into that girls pants, you know, the one you're practically eye fucking." Mattheo rolled his eyes as he sneered back. "I just might, mate."

You go to sit down when you feel hands clamp down on your hips from behind you, pulling you down with enough force to not hurt you. You look behind yourself, seeing Theo with a smirk pulling on his lips. You let him pull you into his lap.

Mattheo lights a cigarette and inhales deeply before exhaling. He silently offers it to Theodore as he blows the smoke out; Theo leaning in and inhaling the smoke, slightly touching Matty's lips as they make eye contact. Mattheo slithers his hand onto your thigh, you feel the warmth of his hand spread through your skin as you feel the few cold rings he has on mixing with the warmth.

He squeezes your thigh almost the same time Theo squeezes your waist, "you okay, pretty girl? Need anything?" You look at mattheo on your right, "no, I'm okay Matty. You?", "I'm okay. Now that I have you two here with me." He mumbles the last few parts of his sentence, a slight smile appearing onto his lips. Although, he knows you two still heard him.

—> sometimes their clinginess gets so bad where they will not let you get up for breakfast. Good luck convincing them to not miss all your classes as well lol.

—> they love cuddling you and each other but they'd never admit that.

—> they only cuddle each other if you're unavailable or not at school (holiday n stuff).

—> Tiny kisses to the back of your neck, forehead, nose and hand. It's a good excuse to kiss you and they love when you kiss them, too

—> Matty prefers his cheek or forehead kissed, while Theodore his neck, jaw or cheek.

—> tho it'd be better on the lips.

—> they go to the bathroom w you too.

—> they don't care it's the woman's bathroom, they will be guarding your stall!!!!💗💗💗 They can never be too sure.

Reblogs, likes & comments are much appreciated!🫶🏻

[explicit-tae]

i seen you did a request so i as wondering can i request something? 🥹

jk x reader where the reader gets cheated on by her boyfriend and she gets her lick back 💜 love your stories!

I'm sure I can do something quick 💜

Lick Back

Realizing that your boyfriend has become a completely different person & being malicious towards you could only mean that he’s being nice to someone else.

Word Count:4.298

Warning: dry humping, kissing, neck kissing/sucking, dirty talking, nipple pinching, praising, affair/cheating, oral sex, breeding kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, creampie, slight voyeurism, teasing/taunting, squirting,

Your mother always told you that if your dog started barking at you that it only meant that someone else was feeding it. A dog would never bite the hand that feeds them.

Your mother wasn’t talking about an actual dog.

However, you had a dog - in a way - and recently, it began doing just that. It became annoyed with you for every little thing you’ve done. It’s tone changed completely when speaking with you; always rushed and not attentive. It started to be mean for no reason, nearly foaming at the mouth when you questioned their sudden change of actions - or questioned it at all. It wanted to be outside longer than usually and would be upset when called back home.

The dog being your boyfriend of nearly 5 years. You noticed the shift a year ago, but you ignored your gut feeling of something being terribly wrong - but now, you are numb and though it hurts in a way, you are also relieved. The love that was one there in your relationship appeared to expire without you realizing it - or maybe you had not wished to accept it.

And yet, here you are in a home the both of you share. He is out, not bothering to tell you just where he’s at - and you don’t ask. You stopped asking a year ago when you grew accustomed to sleeping alone.

But even if the love for your dog is no longer there - and if it was, it was slowly drifting away - that didn’t mean the anger wasn’t. The fact that you allowed the dog to stay with you because you loved him, fed said dog his favorite meals and showered him with love and affections. They were supposed to be loyal - but atlas, someone else had gained its love while you were left in the dark.

But there was someone else who liked what the dog had, you noticed. Someone who appreciated the meals you cooked and ate them with ease, who would come when you called them. They were loyal - even more than your own dog - and it just happened to be the dogs friend.

Jeon Jungkook is an attractive man and he knew it. It showed in the way he struts, shoulders lax and head held high. He almost wore a smirk, but never a cocky one. Jeon Jungkook could be an asshole - a complete fuckboy. He could turn his nose at anyone because he had it like that - but he didn’t.

Jeon Jungkook was a kind individual. He was caring - especially to the ones he was close with. You recall many times when you’d had to call him because your boyfriend had gotten so drunk that you’d need a man's help - and Jungkook was always that man.

 And even though Jungkook was a friend of your boyfriend, he was kind to you, as well. He changed your tires on numerous occasions, making sure to give you the speech that “You need to make sure you keep up with your car, Y/N.” or the “Your oil and tire lights are on, how do you even drive this still?” he had good intentions.

“This is so good!”  Jungkook says, mouth full of the pork belly. He licks his lips to savor the flavor. Jungkook always wore a disgusted face when something was amazing in taste and even now, his eyebrows are knit together in confusion and he appears utterly disgusted - that was a good sign.

“I’m glad you enjoy it.” you smile at him, washing the dishes you’ve made when cooking. 

“I told you I don’t mind washing the dishes, Y/N.” Jungkook says, glancing upwards at you. “It’s the least I can do since you cooked.”

You sigh, smile never ceasing. “It’s alright. You’re a guest after all.”

Your dog wasn’t home and you don’t know when he will be - nor  did you truly care. His friend was nicer, more entertaining, as well. He ate your cooking as if it was fine dining, and appreciated it, too. He was kind and good at conversation - he was caring, far more than your dog. 

“I enjoy cooking for you, Jungkook. You deserve it the most.” you turn off the water and begin to dry your hands. Your eyes meet his and for a moment, you’re pondering if he’s thinking about your words the way you intend him to. 

“Thank you.” Jungkook grins, tiny dimples at the side of his cheek forming. 

You lean against the island that he sits at, quiet and content that he’s eating the food you’ve made for him. It wouldn’t be the first time you cooked for Jungkook - you recall the first time without your dog being present was a year prior. You had cooked and waited for his return and was left with nothing. It was hours after when you heard him return - this time not alone or coherent. Jungkook had slung the man onto the couch annoyed with just how drunk he had become and when you emerged - in nothing but a nightgown - he had apologized profusely. 

“I cooked.” you had sighed, disappointed but not the least bit surprised by the actions of your dog. “Do you want a plate?”

It has become a tradition now. You’d cook for Jungkook often and each time, he'd come and enjoy what you’ve made him - whatever you made him. 

Jungkook was no fool, as well. He knows just how independent you’ve become, especially within the last year. He knows that you know that he knows of your boyfriend's loyalty - or lack of - but you never question him about it, even when he prepares himself to tell you the truth if you had. 

Over time, Jungkook noticed that you don’t seem to care about your boyfriend's whereabouts - and around that time, he picks up on just how you begin to dress when around him. It was subtle at first, sure. You showed more skin - more legs with your shorts, more shoulders. He notes that the clothes you wore were tighter but relaxed seeing as you were in the comfort of your own home. You’d wear tanktops that showed your breast with shorts that made your thighs highly appealing for his eyes. Overtime, you ditched the bra and it became harder for him to not gawk at the way your breast looked in them.

Jungkook doesn’t want to assume anything - you were so far removed from your boyfriend that you didn’t care anymore. One drunken wine night when the man was away on a “business trip”, you had told Jungkook that you hadn’t had sex with him in close to a year now - his own drunken response was that if he was your boyfriend, he would fuck you any chance he’d get.

Jungkook isn’t sure if you remember that night and neither of you brought it up after.

“You seem tense.” Jungkook is behind you now - when he has gotten up from his seat, you are unaware, consumed by your own thoughts. “Is everything alright?”

You slowly nod your head, turning it slightly to get a glimpse of him. 

Jungkook snorts. “Your shoulders are tense.” he says, gentle hands placing themselves on your shoulders. “Is everything alright with work? The car?”

“Yes, Jungkook. I’m fine.” you giggled. “You worry too much.”

Jungkook’s fingers begin to rub at your shoulders, applying pressure to them. You swallow, your hands gripping the edge of the sink.

“You should relax, Y/N. You’re always doing something and never truly giving yourself a break.”

Jungkook’s hand reaches your neck. They run up slowly, goosebumps left behind in its trail. Your eyes flutter close at how good it felt to be massaged.

“Does it feel good?”

There’s a drop in Jungkook’s voice - it’s deeper. He whispers it, as if only speaking directly to you, even if you and he are already alone in the home.

“Yes.” you murmur back, head falling back against his chest just as he reaches the front of your neck. A tattooed hand wraps around it, thumb caressing your skin in circular motions. 

“I’m glad.” Jungkook is subtle when he presses himself against you - so gentle that you don’t notice it at first. You're completely against his body, in blissful relaxation. “You deserve to be taken care of, too.”

Even now, you dressed so comfortably - shorts stopping high above your thighs and a shirt that sculptures your breast so lovingly that he had a difficult time not watching the way they bounced as you walked around the kitchen preparing him the meal.

“I don’t really have anyone to do that.” you whisper back, a slight moan creeping past your parted lips.

“I can take care of you…unless you object.”

You nod your head and instantly, his free hand roams down to grip your clothed breast. He can feel just how hard your nipple was.

You hiss, back slightly arching.

Jungkook engulfs both breasts in the palm of his hands and begins to rub, your light moans enticing him to continue. He can feel your nipples harden in his grasp and he himself begins to hiss lowly to himself on how heavenly they felt in his hands. 

There’s no doubt that the two of you wanted this for far too long by the way you completely allow him to touch you without any resistance. He presses himself against you needily, face in your neck as his hands continue to grip and pull at your breast.

“You smell nice.” Jungkook grumbles in your neck, nose inhaling your sweet scent; he’s sure he sounds like a creep, but he wasn’t going to hold himself back . Not now he’s certain you want him just as much as he does you. “I like this scent on you the most. This and the jasmine one.”

You swallow, heat rushing through your body at his words. Jungkook had memorized the perfume’s you’d wear due to the countless times he’d be around you. He recalls the time he even had to help his friend pick out a gift for you on an anniversary and how upset he had been when he chose the cheapest scent he could find - and one you’d never wear. Jungkook had swamped them out and chose the very scent you wore now and you’re none the wiser.

Your arms reach behind you to cup Jungkook’s head just as you feel his teeth sink into the nape of your neck. He’s being more rough; dominant. You don’t remember when the last time a man has touched you with such possessiveness - a sex-toy could only do so much.

“Such pretty skin,” Jungkook’s tongue pokes out of his mouth to lick onto your neck. “just want to mark it all up.”

“Then do it.” you respond. If you and him were going to do this, mind as well go all out. Your dog often comes home smelling like sickly sweet fruit perfume and cigarettes at times - you wanted Jungkook’s scent all over you. 

Jungkook does, biting your skin harshly and then suckling on it until your neck is perfectly marked up. He’s then quick to turn you around to finally face him, the both of you now locking eyes. 

“Are you upset?” Jungkook questions, eyes dark with lust but a bit concerned.

“With you?” you ask, raising a brow. “Never.” 

“Not with me. In general.” Jungkook murmurs, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. His thumb gently traces your lips. “I’m sure you know…what he does.”

You nod your head, leaning into Jungkook’s touch. 

“Don’t want you to regret or feel bad afterwards.”

“Are you?” you ponder aloud.

 You were so far removed from your boyfriend that you could care less about what he thought. In your mind, he was nothing but a roommate now; the two of you not even sharing a bed. 

Jungkook, however, was your boyfriend's friend and maybe he would feel remorseful.

“I told you that I’d never stop fucking you if given the chance.” Jungkook snorts, thumb tapping your lip. 

“Then don’t stop.” you murmur, tongue poking out to wrap poke his tongue. “I haven’t been fucked good in so long.”

Jungkook hisses, his hand now gripping your cheek. He shakes his head. “He told me what you like.” he confesses, unsure if you were willing to go down that route with him. 

“He was never really into anything.” you shrug your shoulders - this is why you ended up with a vibrator and a dildo; and you were currently looking into a vibrating dildo, how sad your life has become. 

Jungkook is aware of his friend's lack of foreplay - he was only ever interested in his own pleasure. Jungkook, however, didn’t mind pleasuring you until you were begging him to stop - but maybe he was just a bad person to think about his friend's girlfriend riding his face until she came.

Then again, you were being cheated on by said friend so maybe this was just his karma; it wasn’t like you were a bad person and deserve such treatment.

“I want to eat you out.” Jungkook declares suddenly that it catches you off guard completely. “Why do you look scared?”

“Just shocked.” you say, body growing even hotter. “Wasn’t expecting you to say that.”

“‘I want you to ride my tongue until you’re squirting all over me’ is what I truly wanted to say.” Jungkook deadpans and blinks. “But I didn’t want to scare you away.”

You gulp, eyes widening and thighs clenching. 

“And by the way you’re rubbing your thighs together, it didn’t scare you.” Jungkook smirks and instantly, he presses his lips against you. It’s a deep kiss that catches you by surprise, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t crave more. 

“I can kiss you, right?” Jungkook says against your lips - maybe he should’ve asked first. “I know kissing is more intimate-”

You shut him up by kissing him, arms wrapping around his neck to assure that he doesn’t get too far away from you. 

Kissing Jungkook came naturally - as if the two of you had done it before. He pries your mouth open and allows his tongue to dance around yours, all the way he holds onto your hips. 

“Bed,” you kiss his lips again. “room.”

Jungkook follows behind you, unable to keep his hands off of your body as you lead him to your bedroom. He doesn’t even bother to close the door before he’s already tugging at your clothes.

Your shirt is the first to go, breast pooling out that Jungkook cannot focus on anything else but them. He dives into them, your back hitting your mattress just as he begins to suckle on your left nipple, his thumb and index finger pinching the right.

The noises Jungkook made were just as filthy, wet sucking and groans echoing off of your walls. How  long he had craved to see your bare breast - they were always teasing him when he was around. Bouncing whenever you move, nipples always erect for his view.

“So pretty.” Jungkook brings the right nipple into his mouth, showing the same amount of needy lust and love to it as the left. His hand squeezes your left breast in the palm of his hand, the pain shooting pleasure right to your core. “I can suck on them all night. I don’t know why he doesn’t.”

Now, Jungkook brings both nipples into his mouth, needily needing to taste you. He has a crazed look in his eyes that only causes you to squirm beneath him, legs wrapping around his waist to feel him.

“You can suck on them whenever you want.”

Jungkook grunts, teeth grazing against your nipples as they pop from his wet mouth. “Don’t tempt me, Y/N. You’ll never be able to get rid of me.”

You were positive you didn’t want Jungkook to leave. 

“I want you naked right now. I wanna see just what that idiot has for me right now.”

There wasn’t much Jungkook had to do to get you naked - in seconds, he had helped you kick off your shorts along with your panties, needy pussy on display for him.

“Need you on my tongue now.” Jungkook hisses, flipping you and him so he is beneath you now. Your pussy is so close to his face that it causes you to yelp in slight humiliation.

“I-I wasn’t really prepared to do this, i-I-”

“Y/N,” Jungkook calls, tone dismissive. “I’m a man. Just fuck yourself against my tongue.”

So you do - and Jungkook’s hands only make you do more. His hands slap your thigh to kick up the pace, his eyes boring into your face as it contorts with pleasure. Your hips just as you grind against his tongue, hands gripping your breast.

Jungkook’s eyes never leave your face. He enjoys watching the stress leave your body as you pleasure yourself, it tells him that this is something you truly needed. His hands begin to rub along your hips, encouraging you to continue until they slide down to your ass. He cups them, his own head swaying side to side to further stimulate your needy clit.

“S-S-Shit!” your body leans back, hands planting against his thighs as he devours your cunt as if it was his last meal. “I-I’m gonna cum…you gotta move.”

That was the last thing Jungkook was going to do - not even as your hands try to pry him away from your pussy, he doesn’t. He continues to suckle onto your clit until you’re visibly shaking above him, but even then he was determined; fully committed to having you cum hard on his tongue. 

Your legs begin to quiver and Jungkook soon was going to get what he was looking for - you cum. He licks the arousal up, slurping and suckling loudly as your moans mewl out of your mouth.

“I could eat you all day.” Jungkook speaks beneath you - and you knew he was serious. 

You did the wrong thing by looking at him. His mouth and chin was fully coated in you and just the sight causes you to cum even harder - the hardest you have ever had in your life; right onto his tongue like he wanted. 

You fall back against the bed with a tired sigh, breathing hitching. 

Jeon Jungkook was a dangerous man. No wonder the universe gave you your dog - you couldn’t handle a real man such as Jungkook, surely. 

“Can I fuck you?” Jungkook asks, swallowing the lump in his throat. “Unless you’re tired then-”

“I want you to cum in me.”

Jungkook coughs, his cock jumping in his pants. “I-I…really?”

“If you’re going to fuck me, you mind as well go all out.” you pant, widening your legs. “I don’t want you to hold back, either.”

You were going to be the death of him - but if this was what is going to kill him, then he’ll be content. 

“Fuck.” Jungkook is in a hurry to remove his clothing, scattering it all around the room without a care. “Fuck you’re so perfect. I would treat you so well, Y/N. Fuck I hate him.”

Jungkook’s words causes you to giggle at the circumstances. He hated your boyfriend - his friend - for allowing you to fall into the arms of another man - him. It’s all comical, truly. 

“I would fuck you all day if you’d let me. Come home every night and fill you with my cum. How are you not pregnant yet?”

Jungkook’s babbling to himself, even if you could hear it. It’s questions he has asked himself time and time again - wondering why his friend would rather sleep with other girls when he had someone like you at home. You cooked every day and assured the home stayed just right. He would have put a baby in you - and of course married you; but this wasn’t about him now, was it?

Jungkook positions himself at your center and swallows. You’re clenching, ready to be stuffed. 

“I bet you’d like to put a baby in me.” you tease, hips slightly wiggling for him to enter you. “Why don’t you?”

Jungkook growls. “Don’t tempt me with a good time, Y/N. You don’t know how many times I imagined you in my home.”

Maybe Jeon Jungkook was a bad friend for imagining said friend's girlfriend in his home cooking for him - or in his bed breeding her. BUT he had since stepped out on the relationship so karma would have to skip him, right? If anything, you being with him would be doing both of you a favor - you wouldn’t be cheated on and he would dote on you every chance he had.

Jungkook begins to enter you, shuddering at the tightness of your pussy. It engulfs him completely, as if shoving him in with whatever powers it held. 

Shit.

Instantly, Jungkook begins to pound into you - you casted a spell, surely. Whatever you put in the food had caused him to be highly consumed by you entirely. Maybe a baby would be nice, right?

You weren’t expecting Jungkook to get right into it - neither were you against it. He holds your legs apart in a tight hold, cock pounding into you so heavenly that even you thought about giving the man what he has been imagining.

“Fuck,” Jungkook hisses when his eyes catch the white, creamy ring around his cock. “you haven’t been fucked good in so long. You’re milking my cock already.”

“Maybe if you weren’t such a pussy before you could’ve been fucking me.” you needed Jungkook to fuck you harder if possible. Making him mad and taunting him was an amazing way to start. 

Jungkook’s eyes are furious, lust and anger swirling in them. “Maybe if you would’ve  asked me to fuck you I would have.” he spits back, his thrust quickening. “You always looked so desperate, too.”

“I was.” your hand slap against his bare chest, but it doesn’t cause him to stop - no, if anything it makes him fuck into you even deeper at your retaliation. “You were desperate to fuck me, too.” you moaned when he hit that sweet spot that has never been touched before. “Like a little teenage boy.”

Neither of you notice the footsteps coming closer to the bedroom, far too entangled with one another's pleasure. 

“I know when a bitch needs to be stuffed. Should’ve filled you with my cum years ago.” Jungkook flips you onto your stomach. He yanks your hair back so your back is perfectly arched - and then he takes you just as hard as before. “But tonight will be the night that I do what we both want, huh?”

“Fuck, you’re so deep.” your eyes snap shut, stomach forming knots. Your breast bounces in the rhythm of his powerful thrusts.

One hand in your hair while the other begins to play with your wet clit. Jungkook buries his head at the side of your neck, lips against your ear.

“You’re coming home with me tonight, Y/N. I’m going to breed you here, then you’re leaving with me.” It’s the sex and lust talking that's causing him to be so demanding and possessive, but you and him both go along with it. When the high was down, then maybe the two of you could talk with sense.

But as of right now - he was determined to put a baby in you without thinking of any consequences and stupidly, so were you.

“You’re gonna leave him right?” Jungkook asks, yanking your hair harder as his hips jut into you. “You’re gonna give me that baby you want me to put in you so bad and you’re gonna leave that sad excuse of a man.”

Your pussy clenches around him and your eyes manage to open. You’re shocked to see him at the door, eyes wide and watching his friend fuck you into oblivion all the while bad mouthing him.

“Y-Yes!” your juices leak down your thigh, overstimulated due to Jungkook’s fucking and aggressive rubbing along to your swollen clit. “Want your baby.”

You don’t break eye contact with the man - it’s evident that he’s shocked, but he cannot be angered. Not with you, at least, maybe with his friend. 

“He could never fuck me like you. Never give me a baby.”

Now you were purposely taunting him, upset that this is when he decides to come home - but a bit glad that he gets to witness the end of an already crumbled relationship. You wonder how he feels witnessing his friend fuck you better than he ever could; with more passion.

You cum around Jungkook’s cock, juices leaking out of you and onto your bed and Jungkook isn’t far behind you. His thrust began to grow sloppy. He leans away from your neck, eyes glancing up at the figure watching them - the same figure of his former friend; one who had not spoken to him in months unbeknownst to you. 

The friendship had ended months prior when Jungkook had suggested that he treat you better, in which he responded angrily that if he wanted you to be treated good so bad that he should have you, declaring that he would have nothing but his sloppy seconds. Never truly imagining that he would witness it happen before his eyes - he was just angry and drunk at the time when he spoke so harshly of you.

Jungkook cums inside of you, so deep and so much. His eyes never leave the shocked ones of his former friend at the door as the both of you allow the high to die down. “You’re coming home with me tonight.” he says, not asking but demanding.

You nod your head, eyes leaving that of your former boyfriend and they close as his (former) friend gently lays you down onto your bed.

[xiaq]

I want an AU where Steve is a werewolf and Eddie is a vampire except neither of them know about the other.

Eddie is the frontman of an up and coming band, but he's left his coven and surrounded himself with humans. They perform after sunset anyway so it's easy enough for him to hide his nature.

Steve has similarly left his toxic family pack and built his own pseudo-pack through the kids. He works as a park ranger. Or an ornithologist. Or something else nature-y/nerdy. But no one knows about his furry little secret.

Maybe Steve ends up attending a concert with one of the kids who has VIP passes and Eddie zeros in on Steve immediately at the meet and greet because he's pretty and preppy and delightfully out of place and also he smells good. And Steve is having similar thoughts, but he tries to play it off because there's no way an honest to god rock star would be interested in him and his polo and his boat shoes (also his hearing is temporarily fucked from the concert, so he doesn't register Eddie's lack of heartbeat).

After some light flirting, Eddie invites Steve back to his hotel and Steve is like, you know what? Yes. I am going to have a one night stand with the gorgeous front man of a metal band and I'll probably fall a little in love with him by the end of the night and it will break my heart when he kicks me out in the morning, but it will be an experience. Let me go drop off my kids and I'll be right back.

Except what he doesn't know is Eddie is planning to have a little snack while they're in the throes of passion––not enough to hurt Steve or anything, just enough that he'll have a pleasurable blackout and wake up tired but sated.

The only problem is that neck-biting (that breaks the skin) for wolves is the equivalent of marriage.

So when Eddie bites Steve, instead of a venom-drunk human, peacefully slipping into sleep in his arms, he gets a very horny, very confused, werewolf who is now insisting that they're married.

I can't decide if it would be funnier if Wolves/Vampires didn't know about each other, Ie:

"You're a Werewolf?" Eddie says, "What do you mean you're a werewolf? Werewolves exist? No. Shut up. Prove it."

And:

"Holy shit. A vampire. Vampires are real," Steve reaches for Eddie's face and Eddie is so baffled by the everything of this situation that he lets Steve pinch Eddie's top lip and peel it up off his fangs for a mortifyingly long moment. Eddie draws the line when he starts poking at Eddie's incisors, though.

"Why do I feel funny?" Steve mutters. "Will your venom kill me?"

"How should I know," Eddie hisses, only a little hysterical, "I didn't know wolves existed until two minutes ago, I've never bitten a wolf before."

"And you won't be biting any others, mister. Infidelity is not ok."

The other option is that wolves and vamps DO know about each other but stay so isolated in their covens and packs (and loners are super unusual) that they never interact. So Steve and Eddie are both like, dang, I'd been raised to think all of your kind were smelly/ugly/gross, but you uh, don't fit into that box at all. Weird.

Regardless, Steve (still naked, probably) crosses his arms all huffy, like, "well, we're married now, you're not going to bite me and then cast me aside like some harlot," and Eddie is like "...I'm weirdly ok with this, actually. No arguments here." And eventually they live happily ever after.

[klausysworld]

hey, so i’ve been having this scene in my head for days where y/n and klaus are kidnapped by some witches and they are put under a sex spell that makes both of them really horny. they gotta have intercourse for the witches to draw the energy that comes from simultaneous orgasms or something like that. they are reluctant at first especially y/n but klaus manages to convince/seduce her and they end up having the best sex of their life. could you write something like that pls?

Timeless Desire

Klaus groaned softly, rolling onto his back and peeling his eyes open. The light stung at his pupils making then shrink momentarily before they expanded beyond their usual diameter.

His body ran hot and a familiar but much more intense ache rolled through his body, his lower body especially. With a stiff grunt he placed his hand over his crotch, an immediate cry leaving him with how incredibly hard he was.

"Fuck" He breathed, lifting his spinning head and forcing himself up onto to find himself in a plain, bright room. He was fully dressed but he felt the need to tear each material from his skin. Just as he started to tug at the hem of his shirt his attention was pulled to a soft moan, one that made his loins stir.

Klaus spun round to see a vaguely familiar girl curled up in the corner. Dressed in a floaty dress that meant that the delicious scent of her arousal spread through the room like a wild fire. His eyes found hers, she was afraid that much was clear and if he were honest, he was also a little nervous but she looked scared of him and he didn't understand why.

His lips parted to speak but before he could, someone else's voice piped up.

"Perfect. You're both awake!" The voice was cold and mildly amused. Klaus felt his anger spike, he knew this witch. Not personally but he knew who it was and the type of shit this guy did. But the girl didn't, Klaus could tell that she was lost. "Now I know you're a little scared honey, but don't panic, I'm not here to hurt you." The guy grinned, adressing the girl before gesturing to Klaus "But he might" He whispered to her and Klaus frowned, confused. Did he know her? "Now you should recognise each other just a little bit. This, honey, is Klaus Mikaelson" He smirked and she sniffed, backing further into the corner, "And this is Y/n Y/l/n, you met once, she's part of Jackson's or I suppose now it's Hayley's pack" The witch explained and Klaus's eyes went wide. Hayley had introduced them, once, and he had liked her. He had flirted and teased but nothing came of it, so why was she here? Why was he here?

"What is this, exactly?" Klaus questioned, brows furrowed and eyes darting to Y/n who was squeezing her thighs together tightly.

"You know what it is and you're not gonna fight it. There are dozens of us who will benefit from this ritual and you will complete it by the next full moon." The witch told him sternly and Klaus's expression darkened.

"You're sick" He spat, he knew the ritual he meant. It was a power draw. Two supernaturals, when simultaneously orgasming would release a specific type of power that could be used and twisted to perform some of the biggest spells. Werewolves especially, their hormones are so high. And Klaus? He was perfect for this type of sorcery.

"Sick or not, It's necessary. You have a month, get to know each other if you have to. Or if you want to get back to your daughter them make it happen as soon as you can, hm?" He snapped and Klaus growled.

He knew what the witch was suggesting and based on how Y/n cried "No" , she knew too. The magic wielder left and Klaus looked to Y/n who was shaking her head.

"Please don't" She whimpered and Klaus sighed, brushing his hand over his hair and groaning at the sweat that coated him from how his skin boiled.

"I'm not...I won't make you do anything" He told her, trying to keep his distance but suddenly the room felt so much smaller.

They stayed in opposite corners, silent and uncomfortable. Sometimes she would cry and he would whisper that it was okay and they would get out but he knew it was useless.

When night came it was freezing, unbelievably and her body trembled. He knew what they were doing. They wanted them to lay together to conserve their heat, to touch. Instead, klaus pulled his henley over his head and pushed it over to her so she may warm up.

They stayed silent for days before Y/n began to struggle. His eyes had met her fading ones in the centre of the night and he nodded, getting up and coming over to her.

"It's okay" He whispered, laying down beside her and spooning her delicate figure against him. His cock was solid and pressed right against her ass but he didn't grind himself or say anything, he just needed to keep her warm and alive until the night was over.

But in the morning, the temperature was all the way up and their bodies were practically stuck together. Y/n was dragging the henley over her head, her body pressed against Klaus's and it made him bite down on his tongue hard. Her hips shifted without meaning to and Klaus groaned, bucking his hips against her firm ass. A whine left her and he grunted.

"Fuck, I'm- I'm sorry" He muttered, crawling away from her. He felt like a dog, a weak, panting dog that was desperate for water. His mind was hazy with her so close, he wanted her. He wanted to taste her, to feel her, hear her. Y/n looked so soft, so perfect.

She had curves, he could see them through the dress when she laid and he needed them.

But he couldn't, she was still scared and he couldn't make her. He would do a lot of things but he would not force her.

Klaus tried to stay away from her in the day, only touch at night for heat but then they started to get hungry, physically. Y/n needed food and Klaus needed blood. The witches said Klaus must feed from her and if Y/n wanted food then she would have to earn it. The deal was that for each minute they kissed, she would get a pice or a slice of something. No specifications, just something to entice her.

She was famished when she looked up at him, eyes wet with tears that hadn't yet fallen. Klaus softened, again, and let her shuffle over. His arms wrapped loosely around her waist and whispered gently in her ear. "It's going to be alright sweetheart, just a minute so you can get something okay? I won't hurt you"

Y/n leaned close to him, needing to feel safe and he could do that. She knew the witches were watching and it was unsettling but she also knew that she needed to eat.

So she closed her pretty eyes and let their lips collide. It was supposed to be closed mouth and quick but once they both got a small taste, they yearned for more.

Y/n broke first, surprisingly, and moaned against his lips. As soon as her mouth opened, his tongue was inside and their little kiss became an intense make out session. The heat was too much again and Klaus was pulling her to straddle his lap whilst his tongue fucked her mouth passionately.

They were both blissfully unaware of the time passing by as their bodies rubbed together desperately and her legs spread invitingly for him to lay between as he pushed her onto her back and bunched her dress up. His cock was so close to tearing through his boxers as he dragged his jeans down his hips roughly. Y/n was tugging at him overly eagerly, needing him inside her.

However as soon as he hand grabbed at her panties, her eyes flew open. A gasp leaving her throat and her face pulled away making his wolf growl and hers whine. The fear was back and he could smell it. He panted and let go of her underwear. His eyes listed to meet hers and she whimpered, but she didn't look too scared, she was still lustful.

But they didn't have time to talk about it. Not when a tray had appeared in the opposite corner. Y/n had scrambled over there, grabbing at the pieces of pancake and the berries. Klaus cleared his throat and pulled his trousers back on, he felt embarrassed but he knew he couldn't be due to the circumstances.

He came and sat by her whilst she ate, he was watching over her. Klaus had become protective. The witches had come in one night and tried to take her clothes, to speed the process and since that night he made sure to stay close. He had to fight them off, he almost turned and they knew not to touch her again. He knew that they were still winning, they wanted him to feel possessive and it was working.

He would look around the room, searching for where they were watching them from. He could never find it. In the end his attention would end up back on Y/n.

Once she had devoured everything on her plate, she was snuggling up to him and ready to sleep. There wasn't much to do bug struggle and sleep. The only issue was when she needed to sleep in the daytime. In sunlight hours, it was far too hot to be touching, as the next week came by Klaus ended up sitting in just his boxers during the day. Y/n had torn her dress so it was shorter but eventually it was shredded entirely and she was left in her bra and panties.

It felt so much better in the day but at night? Klaus often worried she would die. Even with their werewolf bodies generating heat, she wasn't strong enough for the temperatures they were putting them through. He would be wrapped around her, on top of her, holding as much over her as possible so that she was as warm as he could have her. It was in the night that he would feed from her. It felt so intimate, too intimate and he couldn't have the witches seeing and he couldn’t have the combination of the heat, her body and feeding all at once so he did it in the cold and dark.

Sometimes, his hands would stroke her skin whilst he fed and when he pulled his mouth away from his neck he would give her little kisses as a thank you. But little kisses weren't a thing. They got sloppy fast and they would be dry humping in minutes.

Too many times one of them had cum in their pants. It resulted in them both completely naked. Y/n had clung onto her bra but he had torn it off her when in a frenzy.

Their lack of clothing made everything difficult.

Klaus wished that the witches could've drawn power from the times he had cum against her leg in the night but he knew that had to be inside her and they had to do it in unison. It was the only way.

He missed his family. He needed to get home, Hope probably thought he had left her but whenever he looked at Y/n, he couldn't ask her to do it. How could he? In the span of weeks he felt that he loved her, he couldn't hurt her.

They had been lead together all night and all day, despite the heat. Their mouths seemed permanently attached, always kissing, licking, loving. Klaus didn't realise how it would feel to cum without any friction. To simply get so hard that he couldn't hold it in. His cock felt like it had exploded with ecstasy. Y/n had giggled when it went all over her stomach, she had stroked his hair gently while he panted and let her kiss his jaw.

"I love you" He whispered to her one day, it was on the fourth week but they didn't know that. Time wasn't real to them. It felt like months had passed with the amount of time they had spent together.

Y/n didn't reply, it hurt him but he understood.

"Would you lie to me...so that you could get out of here?" She asked him a while later, voice weak and eyes avoiding him.

"No" He whispered. "If I were ever going to do that, I would have done that in the first few days. I promise you, I won't ever hurt you. That full moon and come and go, they can torture me but I will never-"

"We have to...I know we do...I just- I"

"I know" He murmured, stroking her arm. "I'll take care of you" It was a promise.

"They'll watch..." She whispered, and he could see that inkling of fear again. It only appeared when the witches were mentioned or showed themselves.

"I'll hide you" He whispered, he pulled her into his hold. "We can be right up in the corner, they'll only see me."

"They've already seen me" She uttered and his heart broke, he was sure of it. He cupped her face and pressed their foreheads together.

"I'm going to rip their eyes from their heads as soon as we get out of here, I promise you" He told her, his voice incredibly low so that they couldn't hear. Y/n nodded silently and sighed softly.

"Maybe just...try something smaller first?" She questioned and he tilted his head but caught on when she shyly touched his hand, his fingers.

"Yeah...we can do that" He whispered, caressing her hand gently and lifting it to kiss her palm. "I can do that for you" He nodded whilst his hands glided down her sides, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. Y/n whimpered softly and closed her eyes, focusing on the intoxicating sensations he created.

His lips pressed to her cheek before scattering down her neck, sucking briefly to make her moan whilst his hands massaged her thighs. Y/n pressed herself right to him, her skin on his and her breath against his ear whilst he brushed his touch between her legs.

A low groan left him when he felt how wet she was, not that he expected less. She had been permanently soaked since they were put here. He had felt it through his clothes at the start, when they would move against one another; more recently she would grind on his thigh but he hadn't been able to really touch her how he wanted. She was much more aware than he was which surprised him with his years of restraint and experience.

Many moments of weakness had struck him. He would stroke himself as quietly as he could but he knew that she knew. They were both far too physically sensitive to feel the psychological shame. To begin with they did but now? They had accepted the desperation. They were submitting to it.

That was obvious when his forefinger slipped inside her with ease. Y/n whimpered and curled her fingers against his shoulders whilst her pussy clenched. Klaus pushed a second finger in with only slight resistance and slowly moved them in time.

"It's alright" He mumbled, kissing the side of her head "You're nice and wet for me" He whispered and she moaned softly. Her eyes squeezed shut and her head rest against his neck to muffle her sounds. His thumb hovered over her clit, encouraging her to move her hips in time with his hand.

They started tentative and gentle but the heat took over soon enough. His digits moved inside her as quickly as physically possible, her hips bucked in a frenzy and her moans were no longer hidden and quiet. She was loud, desperate, hungry for him.

Klaus bit down on his tongue to shut himself up as he pumped three fingers into her enthusiastically. He was certain he could stretch her wide enough for his whole hand but he didn't need to. She bit down on his shoulder when she came around his hand with no warning other than a broken cry.

He expected her to be exhausted but she only seemed more eager for him to finally fuck her. Her mouth was on his in seconds, begging him to take her. His fingertips rubbed her clit, trying to bring her down from her high but it only riled her up further.

"Love" He mumbled, a groan to his voice, "Sweetheart"

Eventually she stopped and looked up at him. Her pupils were blown and he fought against every instinct as he cupped her sweet face and kissed her forehead.

"I'm sorry" she whispered "I got carried away"

Her cheeks were blushed red and it made him smile. "It's okay, I just didn't want you to keep going if you didn't actually want to" He murmured, knowing that the intensity of the witches magic was sending their bodies into overdrive.

Y/n nodded and glanced down at his hand with embarrassment.

"Why don't you go see if they've filled your tray?" He suggested softly so that her attention shifted. Y/n went to her feeding area and was able to relax and eat her only meal of the day whilst Klaus went to their usual sleep area. The remains of their clothes worked as some sort of bed and he sighed softly at the reality they were living in.

He promised himself that he would have her wrapped in the finest silk sheets, clad in the softest of clothes and fed the most exceptional of meals. He would care for her, he would get to care for his daughter again and see his family. He hoped they'd be happy to see him.

Similar thoughts swirled through his mind each night as he lay with her curled in his arms. Sometimes she would ask what he was thinking and he would tell her whilst she silently hoped that she would get to stay with him once they escaped.

As the full moon neared their scents became stronger and each little, harmless touch became much more intense. They both became more animalistic. Touch, food and sleep was all they wanted and it was all they got.

Klaus was far too happy with the recent development of being allowed to touch that sweet pussy of hers. His fingers were always inside her however after hours of having her fall apart on her hand she needed more. Which was how Klaus ended up with his mouth attached to her cunt for an entire night.

Much to his embarrassment Klaus had borderline begged her to touch his cock. Y/n had felt guilty for letting him struggle and stroked him until he was as much a mess as she had been.

They weren't aware that it was the night of the full moon when their lust overpowered them both.

The witches had the rest of their ingredients ready to draw from the two wolves once the moon hung high.

Klaus's mouth had moved up and down her body three times mover before his cock finally spread her pussy lips open. Her hands grabbed at his skin, her nails dragging up his back to pull him closer.

"Are you sure?" He breathed though he wasn't sure if he could actually stop himself if she said no. Thankfully she was all the more eager.

"Please Klaus, I'm sure, I'm ready" She begged, her eyes pleading with his and making him nod subconsciously and push into her.

The first few thrusts were as slow as he could manage as his fingers curled to grasp at the ground beneath them. His claws extended without him knowing whilst his cock thickened inside her and pushed against her soaking walls.

His head fell forward whilst hers went back and her own claws sunk deep into his flesh.

It only took a minute before control was tossed and Klaus's mind went into overdrive. His hips started to snap aggressively to hers, his ears longing to hear that harsh slap of their skin meeting and the immediate moan that left her lips.

His hands slid under her back to hold onto the back of her shoulders to get a good grip on her whilst he thrust into her roughly. Her legs were up around his hips and he could feel the heels of her feet hit against the base of his back with each thrust.

"God, I love you" He panted, his eyes burning gold as he clung to her tightly and pressed his lips to her jaw. Her cunt was so wet and hot, he never wanted to leave. She squeezed him so delightfully that his vision would go for a moment here and there.

Y/n couldn't close her mouth for even a second, her sounds were endless whilst she begged.

"Harder, Klaus. Please!" She cried, her claws shredding the skin of his back. He obeyed her demands and bucked his hips harsher, hitting that spot with more force.

Klaus watched her eyes roll back whilst her body tensed and tightened.

"Not yet, love" He murmured through a strained voice. He gripped her tighter and moved faster, chasing what his body desperately needed. Klaus groaned loudly, his mind was on fire, his body too. A fire of desire set them both aflame.

The witches gathered in a circle, their chanting synchronised as they felt the power start to flow.

Klaus held himself up with one hand whilst the other slide down the front of her body to dip between her legs. His cock continued to slide back and forth roughly within her whilst his fingertips began to circle her swollen clit.

Y/n was borderline screaming for him when she came undone, her jaw open when he sheathed himself to the hilt and released inside her.

Their foreheads pressed together, sticking with sweat as they panted warm air against each other's mouths.

Y/n felt the weakening first. It hit hard, as though every ounce of her energy was dragged out of her soul.

Klaus noticed her skin paling and worry settle dover him before he felt the same struggle. He muttered incoherently, trying to tell her it was okay but his mind went fuzzy but this time it wasn't due to pleasure.

He knew that the witches had completed their ritual but he hadn’t expected the effects to happen so quickly or be quite so intense. Unfortunately his thoughts were cut short when everything went dark.

It felt like days had passed when he woke again.

His head rang and his arms shifted to hold onto Y/n but she wasn't there.

Immediately he pushed himself up, ignoring the blaring ache throughout his muscles. His eyes were wide when he saw the familiarity of of his bedroom. Relief flooded him before the confusion and the worry.

"Y/N!" He yelled, his throat raw. Elijah appeared in the doorway, rushing over to his brother.

"Niklaus-" He spoke, voice clear as he put his hands on the hybrids shoulders. "It's alright- we got the coven, the majority are dead. We kept the leaders back for you to deal with and-"

"We have to go back right now!" Klaus told him, eyes wide. "Y/n's still there, tell me you didn't hurt her-" He yelled before a throat cleared and Klaus pushed Elijah out of the way.

Y/n was stood slightly behind Hayley, dressed properly for the first time in weeks and looking up at him with a tired but genuine smile.

He took fast strides before pulling her into his chest and smelling her now clean hair. He looked ahead of him and smiled when Rebekah came into view with Hope on her hip.

Y/n pulled away so that Klaus could hold his daughter and she rubbed her eyes. Hayley placed a gentle arm on Y/n's shoulder and gave her a smile.

"Welcome to the family" She told her, a lighthearted tone to her voice in hopes of keeping the positive energy of their rescue alive rather than the haunting memories of their time in the room.