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sp0o0kylights · 10 months

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Steve Harrington was wearing a Hellfire t-shirt.

It was far too tight on him, the name of the club stretched wide over his chest. The sleeves dug into his biceps, making them pop even more than they usually did, and that was before he crossed his arms.

Worse?

It was short.

Which meant the damn shirt was constantly riding up to give everyone a nice show of the smattering of hair that trailed down past the band of Harrington's jeans.

The same hair that Eddie was determinedly not looking at.

“Henderson, a moment?” He crooked a finger, a smile on his face that was more feral than welcoming.

Rather than cower or even acknowledge that Eddie was two seconds away from murder, Dustin just gave him a gummy grin, all too pleased with himself and his scheme.

“Sure Eddie. Steve, don't just stand there, go help set the booth up!” Dustin gestured to Hellfire’s sad little table, crammed all the way in the back of the gym.

Jeff and Gareth both reacted to the suggestion like a rabid squirrel had been set upon them, nervously inching towards the other side of the booth as Harrington sighed and--shockingly--did as he was told.

‘What,’ Eddie thought angrily, ‘in the everloving fuck.’

“Do you guys mind if I set this down on the table?” Eddie heard Harrington ask as he stormed away, Dustin on his heel.

They wandered just around the corner, out of sight and hopefully, out of the fallen king’s hearing range.

Eddie wasn't sure if Harrington would try and white knight the very much deserved dressing down he was about to give.

Didn’t want to chance it, considering the downright weird relationship he had with Hellfire's freshmen.

(While he’d heard many a tale at his table regarding King Steve since the newest recruits had joined Hellfire, most of them dissolved into arguments without ever really going anywhere.

Best anyone could figure out was that Dustin and Lucas had a bad case of hero worship, while Mike owned a begrudging amount of respect that hailed from a series of misadventures.

The very same misadventures that, despite all protests to the contrary, was clearly some sort of babysitting gig for Harrington.)

Either way, plenty of the King’s court would have loved to take this opportunity to fuck with Hellfire.

Given that Henderson was absolutely too old to require a babysitter at fourteen, Eddie would bet his lunch money that was what Steve was here to do.

Something the club couldn’t afford since they were forever and always two seconds away from being stripped of club status and banned from school grounds.

“I would love to know what went through that all A’s brain of yours when I said,” Eddie whirled on Dustin when they were firmly in the clear, voice low and furious. “no Henderson, do not invite King Steve to help, he is an invading force and would ruin our peaceful kingdom!?”

He clasped his hands behind his back before leaning into Dustin’s face. “Because clearly whatever you heard wasn’t that.”

To Eddie’s continued frustration and confusion, Dustin did not treat this like the threat it was.

None of the freshmen had ever truly treated Eddie like a threat--had somehow skipped that part of the usual onboarding ritual entirely.

Eddie, town freak and drug dealer, who had cultivated his looks and craziness to such a degree that most everyone steered clear, wasn’t used to it.

Everyone had been afraid of him at some point in this shitty school. Jeff, Gareth, hell even half the staff--and that the dorky trio of fourteen year old's clearly thought this all was play-acting made his eye twitch.

Even if it was--maybe, sometimes--welcome.

“I know what you said, but I’m telling you I’m right.” Dustin argued immediately, and oh God, he was using that tone again.

A hand went up into the space between them and Eddie groaned aloud, knowing what was coming.

“First,” Dustin ticked a finger up, “Hellfire really needs the money. Even thirty dollars would get us new figures, but more than that, if we don’t fundraise, we can’t go to Gen Con!”

Dustin's eyes bored into Eddie’s, full of fire and conviction

“Yes,” Eddie said through gritted teeth, “but--”

“Second!” Dustin cut him off, and God the little shit even threw him a look while he did it, like Eddie was the one being ridiculous here!

“We had to fight just to get our table! Principal Higgins was in algebra today practically begging the mathletes to show up, but then tried to tell us we couldn't be here? That’s messed up!”

As if denying them a spot to fundraise was the worst thing that asshole had ever done.

Eddie sighed, breath blasting out of his mouth like a dragon’s.

“Because people think we’re freaks and satanists, Henderson. You don’t typically invite freaks and satanists to the school’s annual Holiday Bazaar. Especially not when all the local moms are paying to hawk their bullshit crafts and tupperware!”

It was more than that of course. The Hawkins High Holiday Bazaar was a tradition spanning several years now. Starting in the gym and spilling clear into the parking lot, everyone from local artists to even some local shops came to host a small table for the day, thus growing the event from a small school fundraiser to a Hawkins' “must-do.”

Half the fucking town was here to sell, and the other half was here to shop, which meant Principle Higgins had wanted Hellfire banned from the fucking premise.

Eddie had been forced to pull out one of his trump cards he’d been saving--blackmail on Higgins that related to the man’s not--so--legal addiction to Percocet that he relied on Reefer Rick for.

(And bless Rick, that hadn’t been the only tidbit he’d shared with Eddie about Higgins. That information, however, Eddie needed just so the asshat wouldn’t give him the boot from school entirely.)

The only reason Eddie had pulled it out to secure their rightful spot, was because of Gen Con.

It was Hellfire's White Whale, their grand adventure, and this was going to be his year to take his friends on one last epic quest to make memories of a lifetime surrounded by people who understood them.

Come hell or high water, Eddie was going to Gen Con--but being able to fundraise by selling wares and baked goods at the stupid Holiday Bazaar would go a long way to help.

Even if he had to listen to the band repeatedly play ear-bleeding renditions of Christmas songs.

“All the clubs get to have a table, and we’re a club!” Dustin continued, like it was that simple. “But you know, I get it. We look scary.”

He gestured down to his own Hellfire shirt, before gesturing towards Eddie’s entire outfit.

Like Eddie didn't know what he looked like, let alone that he'd made this outfit specifically to scare people away from him.

(And maybe add some rockstar flair to this dinky little hick town.)

“You know who doesn’t look scary?”

Dustin held out his hands and swiveled his body like he was presenting a prize instead of gesturing in the vague direction of;

“Steve!”

Eddie’s left eye twitched.

‘You can't kill him, you need his character for the campaign.’ He told himself firmly, even if he envisioned strangling Dustin like a chicken.

Cartoon squawking and all.

“The King isn’t going to help us fundraise, Dustin.” Eddie said, in an effort to break down why Harrington couldn't be here. “He's just going to cause us problems that we can’t afford to have.”

So many problems, half of which Eddie couldn't think of because if he did, he'd start spiraling.

“Really? Because as you keep saying, Steve used to be the King. People love him, Eddie! Mom’s love him.”

Eddie had pulled himself back up to his proper height a while ago, and now rocked back on his heels while he ran a hand down his face.

There was no getting through to Henderson when he was like this.

Not unless Eddie really lost it, and it was practically club lore that he only lost it when someone missed an important game.

One cannot keep a herd of sheep if their flock is terrified of them, after all.

(“Perhaps you’re just a giant fucking softie.” Tiff, one of Hellfire’s graduating members, told him once. “Honestly dude, I bet you throw up stuffing.”

“Shut up Tiffany, your choker is on backwards again.” He'd spat back, completely offended and not at all trying to distract from how true that was.)

“We can’t be satanic if Steve’s the one selling cookies!” Dustin finished doggedly.

“We’re not even selling cookies--that’s not the point!”” Eddie shook his head, hair flying. He was not going to be sidetracked, he wasn’t!

“Harrington is going to end up siding with all the moms about how we’re all wasting time with D&D, if he even spends the whole time at the table. Is that what you want?”

He stuck out a ringed finger, poking at Dustin’s chest.

“Every single person who comes by our table has to be convinced D&D is a writing and math based game. Good for the mind and souls of growing, impressionable children. A game that got a bad rep because of a few silly images.”

A pitch he and Tiff had come up with during the third or fourth time they had to convince an adult that no, just because their shirts had a dragon on it, didn’t mean they were summoning demons in the drama room.

“Harrington can’t do that because Harrington doesn’t even know how to play!”

This Eddie punctuated by throwing his hands in the air.

Given the startled look of the mother-daughter duo passing him by, clearly was louder than he’d intended--but screw it!

He was right!

Hellfire was in a precarious position to both fundraise and do a little damage control among the slightly smarter members of this shithole small town, and Harrington rolling his eyes and gossiping about how stupid it was would hinder that.

“Okay, first of all, Steve’s played D&D with me and he didn’t even kill his character.” Dustin said it like he was unveiling a smoking gun and not lying through his ass--which Eddie would absolutely be calling him on the second he was done talking.

Because King Steve? Play D&D?

'Ha!'

“And he’s not gonna say shit because we--me, and Lucas and even Mike!--asked him to help, and he helps when its serious. I know you have some weird grudge with him, but I’m telling you Eddie he’s our golden ticket to Gen Con!”

“You’re killing me. You are standing here, acting as a friend, when you are bringing a-- a dark force into the midst our of mission--” Eddie hissed, because he was losing the fucking fight and he knew it.

Dustin Henderson was not a man easily swayed.

Had never been, even when the odds were stacked against him (and Grant and Gareth were howling in his ear.)

The set of his shoulders and the glint of the little shithead’s eye meant Eddie wouldn’t be able to use him to oust Harrington--if he even could get him out without the dick causing a massive scene anyway.

As always when outgunned, Eddie flipped to dramatics.

“Betrayed! By my own chosen heir no less!” He moaned, pressing the back of his hand over his eyes as Dustin scoffed.

"Don’t be so dramatic! Steve will help, I promise! Just don’t be a dick to him.”

Conversation apparently over, Dustin turned around to head back to the table

Snidely, he added over his shoulder: “Plus we’ve all caught on to the heir thing Eddie. You tell everyone that so they do what you want.”

The dick.

“You’re too fucking smart for your own good. I’m gonna start feeding you paint chips to bring that IQ down.” Eddie muttered angrily as Dustin went back to their little table.

He gave himself a moment to get his shit together and stomp a foot like a child when Dustin was around the corner and thus couldn’t witness it, before following his wayward sheep back.

Could only pray to any deity listening that Henderson’s meddling didn’t blow up in Hellfire’s face.

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fandomhopped · 28 days

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first love/late spring

pairing: fwb!logan howlett x fem!reader; 2nd person pov

summary: logan and reader have been sleeping together for a while with an unspoken rule to keep it casual, but that goes to hell when logan catches feelings. however, reader is an independent boss bitch and hates men<3

warnings: heavy swearing, hella mentions of sexual situations, substance abuse, brief sexual content(nothing serious fr), creepy guy in a bar, blood, bar fight, mentions of sex trafficking and resulting trauma, daddy issues, fluff, angst asf, lowkey scott slander (i dont mean it i love him)

word count: 9.1k

a/n: reader has light manipulation abilities but theyre not mentioned that often lol, also reader takes a lotta shots at jean just cuz she pisses me off. side note: idk the true meaning of the song i used as the title, there are many different interpretations. i found the song after i had alr written the story and the lyrics resonated pls don’t jump down my throat if it doesn’t align <3

there’s not a millimeter of space between you and logan as he holds you against his body. you’re sleeping soundly, and he watches you breathe all night, not bothering to even think about sleep for himself. the sun came up three hours ago, he felt it on his back.

when you drink, you always wake up early the next morning. you two drank a lot together last night. and like every time you drink with logan, you ended up in his bed.

he tries to block the sun from your face with his body so it won’t wake you up. he knows when you finally do, this little illusion that you're his will all be over. everything you said last night won’t matter. you’ll go back to your room. he’ll stay in bed. you’ll both go back to acting like it never happened.

you always leave him swiftly. you always go downstairs and drink coffee from the same mug and act like nothing happened. without a stutter, it’s a routine.

since he moved into the mansion, he wasn’t ignorant to the fact that the female teachers were attractive. and, of course, he was first drawn to jean. he won’t deny that he still harbored some feelings for her when you came to his room all those months ago, but she made it abundantly clear that she loves scott.

then one night, you slipped a bottle of whiskey into the mansion and invited him to join you in drinking it. you said some things that made him sit closer to you. that was just the beginning. he woke up the next morning to an empty bed but distinctly remembers you falling asleep next to him, so he assumed you woke up and left.

logan is a pro at acting like some things never happen, but he wasn’t expecting you to act the same. he dismissed it as a one-off, drunken night.

then it happened again… and again and again, and you continued to act like it never happened.

which, he was fine with. this wouldn’t be the first time he’s had a with-benefits situation, but there’s something different about you. you’re badass. you’re beautiful. he really respects you. you fit him perfectly.

and you’re mean. you don’t smile all that much, really only when you’re drinking is what logan soon found out. you’re not always outright mean to people, it’s usually deserved. you don’t take anybody’s shit. you’ll let people know when they’re in the wrong or they’re pissing you off. you’re sarcastic and rudely witty.

that was just another thing that attracted him to you. but, God, were you the meanest in the mornings, especially when you’re hungover.

unfortunately for logan, he has developed a small, tiny, itty bitty, barely-there crush on you. just catching a scent of your perfume has him rolling his eyes in the back of his head and white-knuckling whatever is directly in front of him.

the thoughts of you under him, on top of him, in front of him, on your knees for him plague his mind all. day. long. then last night, you had him rock solid from just a few drunken words.

“you’ve ruined all men for me,” you said as he kissed down your neck.

“hmm?” he hummed as his hands roamed your body under your shirt.

“nobody could ever fuck me like you do,” you told him, pulling at his hair roughly. he lets out a deep groan at the feeling.

he’s never picked up his pace of getting someone’s clothes off so quickly. he ripped your favorite pair of pj shorts in the process, mumbling that he’ll buy you a new pair.

with him deeply inside you, one hand wrapped around your throat and the other sending you over the edge with his mouth leaving marks all over your chest, you say breathily, “fuck, you’re perfect for me.”

the moment hasn’t left his mind since.

“i’m hot,” you mutter, pushing the sheets from your legs. “you’re hot.”

“oh, yeah?” he whispers in your ear, his lips turned up.

“i’m about to have a heat stroke,” you return, squirming around and shoving his arms from around you.

he lets go of you and gives you some space, lying on his back and staring at the ceiling. a deep sigh leaves him.

“i’m gonna throw up,” you tell him, groaning and curling up into the fetal position.

“are you serious? don’t puke in my bed,” he says, leaning up to look at you.

you roll your eyes. “no, i’m not serious,” you snap at him.

“‘you wanna take a shower?” he asks, his lip curling up at the thought of you ruining his sheets (and not in the way he usually prefers).

“i feel like shit right now, logan. i don’t want to fuck you in the shower,” you tell him roughly, sitting up and glaring over at him.

he watches you stand up out of his bed and put yout shirt on. “‘s not what i meant,” he grumbles, looking away from her. he throws the sheets off his body and grabs his jeans from the night before.

he runs his hands down his face and then looks up only to see the door closing behind you as you leave him. again.

“whew, late night?” ororo asks you as soon as you walk into the kitchen, changed into some presentable clothes rather than the ripped shorts and oversized tshirt you walked back to your room in.

you ignore the woman as you open the cabinet to grab your mug. the same one you use every morning.

but it’s not there.

“where’s my mug?” you ask, glancing around the kitchen to see it’s not just ororo but also jean and scott there.

“is this yours?” scott asks, holding up the mug in his hand.

your gaze darkens. “yes,” she grits out, tightening her jaw.

“that’s my bad. i didn’t know this was yours,” he says, standing up and walking over to the sink. “i’ll wash it and you can use it.”

you feel your skin crawl as he turns on the hot water. “stop,” you say lowly, walking to him and turning off the water. “you can’t—.” you stop yourself as you breathe heavily. you rip the cup from his hands.

“hey, it’s just a mug,” ororo says to you, “what’s up?”

“it’s not—,” you cut yourself off again and take a deep breath, shaking your head. you turn on the cold water from the sink and carefully wash the mug.

“seriously, what’s going on with you?” jean asks as scott rejoins her side.

you roll your neck. “i’ve been here for years, and you don’t know which one is my mug?” you ask scott, not looking anywhere but your mug until you’re sure it’s clean.

“i never noticed before, ‘sorry,” he says then turns to jean with a shrug.

the light beaming in through the window shines a little brighter as you continue to shake your head, muttering things under your breath that the others can’t make out.

“it really is just a mug,” ororo says carefully, looking over your figure in concern.

“except it’s not,” you retort, attentively drying off the ceramic with a towel. you then pour some coffee into the mug and hold it close to your chest, turning back to the other mutants.

“what—,” jean begins but logan walks into the kitchen just as she starts and she stops herself.

her surveys everyone’s demeanor then looks at you. “what’s wrong with you?” he asks, walking to the cabinet and grabbing whichever cup is closest to his hand when he reaches in. he pours himself some coffee and turns back to them expectantly.

“scott was using my mug,” you tell him, leaning against the counter.

“why?” he asks scott, eyeing the man.

“to drink coffee. why does it matter?” he asks in return, scoffing.

“it’s hers,” logan returns, his stare hardens and he looks at scott like he’s an idiot.

ororo laughs humorlessly. “what does that mean? it’s just a mug,” she asks, looking between you.

you glare at her. “it was my father’s and now it’s mine.”

“the same father that sold you?” jean asks, her face contorting. you shift your weight uncomfortably. “why would you want that?”

“why don’t you just back the fuck off, bitch?” you snap at her, stepping toward her.

“woah, girl, calm down,” ororo intervenes, holding her hand toward you like you’re a wild animal. you scoff. “we get it. it’s special to you. that’s all you had to say.”

you roll your eyes at them. you leave the group and return to your room. logan watches you go then turns back to the others with his eyebrows raised. “did you say sold her?” he asks jean.

“when he found out she was a mutant—,” she begins.

“jean,” ororo interrupts her, shaking her head at the girl.

jean continues, “—her father sold her into a mutant sex trafficking ring,” she reveals, looking only at logan, “that’s where we found her and then brought her here.”

his face contorts, and he looks down into his coffee. “shit,” he comments.

“she doesn’t talk about it to anybody, and, out of respect, we don’t talk about it either,” ororo says pointedly at the telepath.

logan is seething all day over the new information. he hates to think you went through that for God knows how long.

after the incident, logan doesn’t see you for a while. he doesn’t know how. you’re a teacher and you live down the hall from him, yet he still doesn’t even catch a whiff of your perfume.

“logan, meet me in my office,” he hears charles’ voice in his head. he obeys and within a minute, he’s standing before the professor. “you should leave her alone for a bit.”

her brow furrows. “come again?”

charles says your name and logan clenches his jaw. “she’s destructive right now. you should let her be.”

“is she okay?” the wolverine asks, concern growing in his stomach, and it makes him feel sick.

“she’ll be just fine. this happens from time to time,” he tells him, pressing his lips into a thin line. “you know of her circumstances.”

“her circumstances?” logan growls, scowling down at the old man, “you knew what she went through and didn’t think to tell me? you know what’s going on between us and didn’t think maybe i needed to know that? what if she had a breakdown when we were together? i wouldn’t have known what was happening.”

charles’ lips turn down into a small frown. “that’s not my information to tell.”

logan storms off in a huff, muttering under his breath.

that friday, he’s smoking a cigar in his bed, looking out the window at the moon, which is shining rather bright tonight. he hears a few quiet knocks on his door. he opens the door, expecting it to be a student.

“hey,” you say, waving a bottle of jack in his face before pushing past him into the room. “'hope you don’t mind, i got started without you.”

“you always do,” he comments, closing the door, putting out the cigar, and following you to sit on his bed. “listen —.”

“i think i like that vodka more than this. this one makes my mouth taste weird,” you tell him, taking another sip out of the bottle before handing it to him.

he holds it and sighs. “look, we should—.”

“—take our clothes off?” you finish his sentence, smiling darkly at him. “i mean, it’s a little early, but i agree.”

“that’s not what i—.”

“—was going to say?” you guess his words, cutting him off again. “look at us finishing each other’s…” you trail off, looking at him expectantly. he sends you a deadpanned glance. “this is the part where you say ‘sentences.’ i think i’m better at this game than you are.”

he takes a long sip from the bottle before he looks at you. “can you be serious for a second?” he asks.

you scoff and take the bottle from his hands. “i don’t come to you like this to be serious, logan,” you say, putting the whiskey to your lips again.

“why do you come to me at all?” he asks quietly and gruffly.

you take another sip and place the bottle on the floor, scooting closer to him. “because you’re hot,” you say in a sultry voice, putting a hand on his thigh and slowly dragging it up, “and you call me ‘princess’ and ‘darling’,” you continue, reaching for his belt buckle. he doesn’t do anything to stop you, “and your hands.” you push the buckle out the way and unbutton his pants, dragging down the zipper slowly. “and your tongue.” you reach your hand into his pants. “and this.”

he breathes heavily, completely lost in the euphoria that is you.

he forces himself to snap out of him and shakes his head. he pushes your hand away and stands up, taking a few steps away.

“what’s wrong?” you ask him, grabbing the bottle and standing also. “do you need some more?” you ask, holding the drink out for him, confusion written all over your face.

he holds his hands out in front of him as if to deny the offer. “it’s…,” he trails off, pushing a deep breath through his nose.

your shoulders drop along your face. you tilt your head in disbelief. “oh, my fuck. they told you,” you conclude. you turn around and sit back down on the bed. he stays silent, just looking at you. “okay, so what now? you don’t want me anymore ‘cause i’m used up?” you ask, slurring your words a little.

“no,” he denies without hesitation.

your sober personality is back even though you’re still drinking the whiskey like you’ve been in the dry desert for weeks without water.

“then what is it, logan? you don’t wanna do this ‘cause my hair isn’t blood red?” you ask next, raising your brow and looking at him expectantly.

his face contorts. “what’re you talking about?” he asks gruffly.

you chuckle at him. “i’m not a fucking idiot, old man. i know you want jean so bad, but she doesn’t want you so i'm second choice” you say, then you shrug with one shoulder. “i’d’a gone with ororo, to be honest. have you seen her? i’d show her a good time,” you add.

“that’s not what this is,” he tells you, taking a step forward but not within arm's length of you.

“then what is it? just fucking tell me,” you say loudly, the room lights up as the moon shines brighter. “d’you want me to tell you ‘bout how i was a good, little daddy’s girl until i almost blinded my brother when i first got my powers? how about how my dad gave me away like he didn’t love me? d’you want me to cry in your arms about how i was passed around by mean men like a blunt when i was 14? why do you think i can only let you fuck me when i’m drunk?” you ask him sarcastically, but your voice breaks on your last words. you let out an unsteady breath. logan watches you cautiously, unsure of what to do. “is that what you want, logan?! you wanna be the big, strong man here?!” you ask him, crying now as you yell at the man in front of you.

your body slumps forward as you let the tears drop from your eyes, and you grip the bottle in your hands like a lifeline. you feel the bed dip beside you and the bottle pulled from your hands. you move your hands to your face, trying to pull yourself together.

you feel his big arms envelope you and pull you into his chest. that’s when the waterworks really break out.

logan’s never been to best with tears. he hasn’t had to deal with them too much, but his first instinct was to hold you as close as you would let him. he hates to see you like this. in all honesty, he wants to hunt down every man that ever put a finger on you and rip them to shreds. but, for now, he’ll hold you. as long as you would let him.

you wake up with araging headache. you’re hot, burning up, actually. you kick the blankets from your legs and turn over in the arms of the incredibly attractive man in bed next to you. you look at his sleeping face and sigh.

this is the part where you leave, but this time, you just snuggle into his chest and fall back asleep.

logan wakes up later than he usually does after nights like the last one. it’s normally the sound of the door closing wakes him up. but, this time, he sees your cute face smushed against his pec. he doesn’t fight the smile on his face.

you stir quickly after he wakes up. you rub your eyes and look around the room, then to logan. “i’m gonna puke,” you tell him, the remnants of the smile fall from his face. you pull away from him as your face blanches. “seriously,” you add and sit up quickly.

he reaches for the trash can beside his bed and holds it in front of you just in time. he holds your hair back with a look of absolute disgust while you clutch the bin close to your face and your body jerks with each gag.

once you're done, you wipe your mouth with the bottom of your shirt. you groan loudly and stand up from the bed. “i’m gonna take this with me,” you tell him, holding the can in your arms and moving toward the door.

“keep it,” he remarks, his lip curled up.

monday morning rolls around quicker than anybody wants. you walk into the kitchen and grab your mug, pouring coffee and looking around at others in the kitchen.

they’re talking amongst themselves, mentions of grading papers and some stupid answer a kid put as their answer on an assignment.

you just listen and sip your coffee peacefully. that is, until logan walks in. you move from in front of the coffee pot for him to get some. he nods in thanks as he joins your side.

“this coffee is awful,” you comment, pouring it out in the sink next to you. he chuckles at your comment but doesn’t say anything. “scott, did you make the coffee this morning?” you ask him. the three look over to you, almost as if they didn’t see you come in.

“yeah,” he answers.

“don’t do it again,” you tell him, filling the mug with water and leaving the kitchen.

as you watch a group of students take a test, you see logan walk back in his jacket he usually only wears when leaving campus.

“hey,” you call out. all the students look up at you. “keep taking your tests. i’m going to the hallway for a second,” you tell them and move into the hallway. “logan,” you call and he turns around, walking back toward you. “where are you going?”

“to pick up some more cigars,” he answers, gesturing over his shoulder.

“will you pick me up a pack of cigarettes?” you ask him, reaching into your pocket for some money.

his brow furrows. “you smoke?” he asks.

“sometimes, yeah,” you reply, handing him $20.

he shakes his head. “i’ll cover it,” he answers.

“thanks,” you reply, placing a hand on his forearm before returning to your classroom.

he looks down to his arm and blinks. that’s new.

“brad, i know you’re not talking during a test. are you begging for a failing grade?” he hears you say before he turns back toward the front door of the mansion.

logan returns a while later, after the school day is over and the students are training. he finds you in your classroom, grading papers.

“hey,” he greets. you look up at him.

“hey,” you return, eyes dancing all over his body.

“these are for you,” he says, holding out the page of cigarettes.

“right, thanks,” you say and reach for them, your fingers brushing his as you grab them.

“‘you need any help?” he asks, looking at the papers before you.

“do you know anything about math?” you ask him, pursing your lips.

“uh, no,” he answers, shaking his head. “don’t you have an answer key or something?”

“i have to check their work to make sure they didn’t just get the answer from the person beside them,” you reply, looking back down to the papers. “some of these kids are dumbasses.”

he chuckles. “no kid wants to do math,” he comments.

“how would you know? weren’t you born before there were schools?” you ask him without looking up. there’s a beat of silence before you eventually glance up at him. “was that insensitive?” you ask instead.

he just shrugs. “i’m not that old,” he says, sitting in the desk in front of yours.

“sure,” you respond and go back to grading.

the two of you sit in without a word as you grade, and he watches you in complete admiration. after a while, he stands up and walks toward the door.

“you’re leaving?” you question.

“‘didn’t think you wanted your room smelling like cigars,” he replies.

“i’ll join you,” you say, grabbing the pack he bought you and putting the tests in a drawer. he doesn’t object and you two walk outside, to a bench in the gardens, away from the students.

the two of you sit in silence as you inhale smoke and slowly release it from your lungs.

“i’ve never seen you smoke before,” he comments after a while.

“i only smoke when i give up drinking, i only drink when i give up smoking,” you answer, tossing the burnt cigarette onto the ground and stepping on it, then picking another one from the pack.

you pick up your lighter and flick it a few times but it won’t light. you put your head and lighter inside your shirt to block the wind, trying again and failing again.

“motherfucker,” you mutter as you try to cover the lighter.

“here,” he offers his lighter with the fire shining brightly above it. with the cigarette between your lips, lean toward the lighter, looking up into his eyes as you do. he meets your eyes and clears his throat, closing the flame into the top of the lighter and shifting his eyes to the cigar between his fingers. you let a small smile rest on your face afterward.

“so you’re not drinking anymore?” he asks you.

“figured i should go on a sobriety cleanse for a bit,” you reply, “‘t’s probably for the best.”

“probably,” he adds and silence takes over again.

he glances over at her for a second and he sees you bite at the skin of your bottom lip the way you always do when you’re thinking, contemplating. he’s tempted to ask what’s on your mind but before he can break the silence, you let out a hard sigh.

“i don’t apologize for things,” you begin and pause, biting at your lip again.

“okay…?”

“i don’t apologize for my actions or words because i stand by every decision i make,” you continue and pause again. he’s looking at you and you’re looking directly ahead of you. “i’m not good at apologizing,” you sigh again, “but i’m…sorry for some of the things i said the other night. there’s no excuse. i apologize. take that how you will.”

“you don’t have to apologize,” he replies.

you huff. “so i just said all that for nothing? you could at least accept the damn apology,” she snaps at him then rubs the crease between her eyebrows out.

“you called me an old man. i don’t know if i want to accept your apology,” he teases with a crooked smile. you send him a look that turns into a hint of a smile before turning your head away.

“i need to get back to grading those tests. i’ll see you later, logan.” you stomp out another cigarette and stand up from the bench.

“see ya, sweetheart,” he says lowly but you still hear it.

as you look over tests, ororo enters your classroom. “ooh, what’s got you all smiley?” she asks as she strolls in.

the previous smile you didn’t even realize you were wearing falls when you look up at the mutant. “huh?”

“don’t try to deny it. i saw that smile,” she says teasingly. you just roll your eyes lightheartedly. ororo’s brow furrows as she sniffs the air. “are you smoking again?”

“yeah, i quit drinking,” you answer, “what’s up?”

“i was coming in here to ask you if you wanted to go out with the rest of us friday night. we’re planning on going that bar we always go to,” she says, “but if you’re not drinking, i don’t wanna make you go.”

“yeah, no. that’s okay,” you decline the offer.

“alright, if you change your mind, you’re welcome to join us. sober or not,” she adds before leaving out.

the week drags on painfully slow. it’s a week of tests and starting new units in all your classes and you really just want to bang your head against a wall and tell the kids class is canceled.

by the end of it, you actually do want to join your colleagues in going out to that bar in town that they love so much. you offer to be the designated driver, not trusting anyone but yourself to drive you anywhere.

“are you going with us to the bar?” you ask logan as he rummages around the cabinets for something to eat.

“no,” he answers, opening the fridge, “are you?”

“yeah, i’m driving,” you tell him. there’s a beat of silence before you add, “you should come.”

he turns toward you at your words with a crooked smile. “oh yeah?” he questions, “why? ‘you want me there?”

you scoff with no heat behind it. “i was just trying to be nice,” you say.

“you? nice?” he asks, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

“what? you don’t think i’m nice?” you ask him defensively, crossing your arms.

“no,” he replies, not skipping a beat.

“i’m very nice,” you counter.

“no, you’re not,” he denies again, also crossing his arms.

in his white beater, crossing his arms makes his arms flex and you can’t help but let your eyes wander to the veins of his biceps.

“you have nice hair. there, nice,” you compliment, then add right after, “you’re not balding or anything, which is quite common for men your age.”

“you’re not good at this,” he tells you, looking at your plate to see what you're eating.

“do you want some?” you ask him. you hold your plate across the counter for him to pick off of. he grabs one of your chips and eats it.

“thanks,” he mutters.

“look at me being nice,” you comment and he chuckles deeply.

“shut up,” he returns playfully.

the five of you go to the bar that night, logan joining at your request. he sits at the bar, ordering drink after drink and scanning the bar every so often to make sure you’re alright.

you spend most of your time at ororo’s side. before long, you’re accompanied by a couple of men. you and ororo share side-eyes as they continue to tell stupid jokes. ororo excuses the both of you to go to the bathroom only to move next to logan at the bar.

“having fun?” he asks sarcastically, looking at you then glancing to ororo.

“they could’ve at least been funny, but they weren’t. there terribly unfunny,” you tell him, sitting next to him on a barstool and ororo laughs.

“yeah, that was awful,” she comments and sips her drink. “oh, i see jean and scott. i’ll be back later.” she leaves the two of you. you order a club soda and turn to logan, who is hunched over his drink.

“you have really bad posture,” you tell him as the bartender hands you your drink. he just shrugs and refills his glass with the bottle the bartender left in front of him. you dig your finger into his spine and he straightens up, looking at you wildly.

“why?” is all he asks.

“it’ll help you look more presentable. you’re not looking for anybody tonight?” you ask and glance around the bar for women.

“no, i’m not,” he answers and slumps back down. you dig your finger into his back again and he looks down at you. “stop,” he says seriously.

“oh, what’re you gonna do? stab me?” she asks him challengingly. he looks back down to his drink and shakes his head dismissively. “oh, come on. you’re good-looking, you’re good in bed, you’ve got this hot, animalistic thing going on. why not look for somebody?”

“‘cause i don’t want anybody,” he answers. “did you say i’m good in bed?”

“well, yeah,” you confirm with a one-shouldered shrug.

he stares at you for a beat. this is the first time you’ve ever mentioned it before. you don’t talk about the things you two have done. ever.

“i would know,” you add after he stays quiet.

“you would know what?” ororo asks as she rejoins you, along with scott and jean. they all stand directly behind the man, looking at you expectantly. logan’s waiting for you to make up a lie.

“that logan’s good in bed,” you answer, gesturing to the man next to you. his eyebrows raise and he looks directly in front of him, a smirk playing on his lips as he drinks down all of what’s left in his glass and refills it again. you surprise him more and more every day.

“he’s what?” ororo questions, shock written all over her.

you roll your eyes. “you don’t have to do the clueless bit. jean reads minds and i know she’s told you two,” you state, pointing between ororo and scott.

“what? i haven’t—i didn’t—,” jean stutters over her words, laughing through them.

“liar,” you clock it in a high-pitched tone, sipping your drink. “i’ve heard you talk about it before. i’m just surprised you haven’t mentioned it yet.”

the three of them exchange glances. “okay, yeah, we knew. we thought you would deny it anyway so we didn’t bring it up,” ororo admits.

logan stays silent, drinking like he’s been thirsting for days. why are you doing this? “so…you two are…,” scott trails off. you shrug as your answer. “hmm.”

“hey, sweetheart, you never came back,” the guy from early comes up behind you and wraps an around your shoulders. you tense up at the feeling.

you remove his hand from you. “don’t touch me, and don’t call me sweetheart,” you tell him. he laughs and looks at your colleagues.

“why not? looks like everybody’s got a matchup here but you. let me help you fix that,” he says and runs the knuckles of his finger across your collarbone. he points at scott and jean, then logan and ororo. “i can make you feel good,” he whispers in your ear.

“seriously, don’t touch me,” you tell him firmly, pushing his hand off your shoulder and shifting your seat away from him.

logan doesn’t watch the encounter but he’s squeezing the glass in his hand so hard it’s about to shatter. he feels the red-hot rage crawl up his neck as he does every time he encounters some asshole in a bar.

“don’t be like that, sweetheart,” the man continues and reaches for the strap over your shoulder. chills cover your arms and legs and a shiver runs down your spine. you grab his hand roughly and shove it away from you.

“touch me again and i’m gonna break your fucking nose,” you tell him.

“ooh, i got a feisty one,” he comments to the rest of your group, laughing. “i like that.”

scott takes a step forward. “you need to lay off, man,” he tells him, trying to keep this civil and contained.

the man only laughs harder. “what are you gonna do, glasses?” he asks him and slings his arm over your shoulders. “come on, baby, let’s get out of here. i got a real nice spot for you in my bed.”

“she already told you not to touch her, bub,” logan chimes in, still looking straight ahead and not sparing the boy a glance. there’s a tightness in his shoulders as he uses all his self control to stay in his seat.

“woah, tell your bodyguards to stand down,” he says to you but your only response is to rear back and deck him directly in the nose.

he stumbles back, holding his nose as blood drips into his hand. “you dumb bitch—,” he lunges toward you but logan whips around and grabs him by the front of his shirt, shoving him up against a wall.

“what’d you say?” the mutant asks him lowly, a growl deep in his throat.

“hey, take it outside!” the bartender yells at the man.

“why don’t we do that? you wanna take it outside?” logan asks the scared man in his grasp, shoving him harder into the wall.

“logan, let’s go,” ororo tells him as she walks with you toward the door. he doesn’t move. “logan!”

he drops his hold on the man and turns his back to him. he doesn’t even take a step before the dumbass says, “yeah, listen to your bitch.”

logan turns back around and absolutely socks him in the jaw. the man falls to the ground. logan walks after his friends, rolling his shoulders.

when logan gets out to the car, he sees you in the driver's seat, holding your hand closely to his body. he sits in the passenger seat and looks at you.

“are you okay?” he asks you carefully.

“did you kill him?” you ask him flatly without meeting his gaze, and he shakes his head. “you should’ve,” you say coldly and start the engine, driving out of the parking lot and back to the mansion as quickly as possible.

when you arrive, logan accompanies you to the lab for jean to look at your hand. he wasn’t going to say anything but watching you cradle your hand makes him change his mind. “are you alright?” he asks you.

“fine,” you reply sharply, clenching your jaw tightly. he watches you bite at your lip.

“speak your mind,” he tells you, just outside the hidden elevator. you just shake your head at him. “if you don’t, you’ll take it out on jean.”

“why can’t i just do that?” you ask lowly.

“‘cause she doesn’t deserve it,” he reasons.

you take a deep, frustrated breath. “what happened tonight was stupid,” you say, “dumb fucking men thinking they can get whatever they want whenever they want. now my hand might be broken because i couldn’t—,” you cut yourself off and take another deep breath to steady yourself. “i’m done talking about this,” you say and open the door to the hidden elevator.

he blocks your path. “no, you’re not,” he says and waits for you to continue. that’s when the dam really breaks and you last out at him.

“it’s stupid. all of this is fucking stupid. i could’ve handled myself back there. i didn’t need you to step up and be my big, strong savior,” you tell him angrily, voice rising.

“i know,” he returns.

you’re shouting now, “then why couldn’t you just let me do it? i could’ve stopped him. i’m stronger now. i know how to fight now. i don’t need anybody to save me. i can save myself. i don’t need you. i don’t need any of you.” your voice cracks as the anger starts to shift into the feelings you hate to feel. “i’m not gonna let anyone take advantage of me ever again. and i’ll break every bone in my body before i let some drunk narcissistic man ever put his hands on me again,” you say your peace and breathe heavily and unsteadily.

there’s a long pause, the weight of your words hanging between you. logan doesn’t interrupt, giving you the floor to get it all out.

“i know,” he repeats himself deeply, “but you shouldn't have to.”

you feel that familiar ache in the back of your throat as tears threaten to spill out. you squeeze your eyes shut tightly, pushing all the emotions back down. “my hand really hurts,” you tell him quietly, not trusting your voice. he puts his hand gently on your back and leads you into the elevator then into the lab.

by the time you’re in front of jean, you’ve pulled yourself together and let her examine your hand. you did break your hand. she wraps it up for you and sends you to your room with some pain meds.

logan doesn’t leave your side until you’re at your bedroom door. “i don’t want you to come inside,” you tell him quietly. he stays silent. “it’s just that you’ve never seen my room before and this is mostly where i use my abilities and it’s messy right now and—.”

“‘t’s fine,” he interrupts your rambling. “i don’t have to come inside.”

“right,” you mumble, hand gripping the doorknob. “good night.”

“‘night.” he doesn’t make his way to his room until you slip into yours, locking the door behind you.

the next mid-morning, logan walks into the kitchen to see jean scolding you like a child. he’s surprised you’re just sitting there and taking it without a word.

“i’m serious,” jean says, finishing her tongue lashing.

“i know,” you mumble before jean offers logan a soft ‘good morning’ as she leaves.

“what was that about?” he asks you, moving over to the table where you sit with paper spread in front of you.

“i need to grade these papers but my hand is broken and dr grey told me it would only cause more damage,” you explain, sighing heavily and holding the pen in your healthy hand.

“let me help,” he says, snatching the pen from your fingers and the paper from in front of you. the numbers on the sheet are all greek to him. he doesn’t know what the hell he’s looking at.

“you can’t,” you tell him, pulling the paper from his hands. “you don’t know how to do it.”

“then tell me,” he offers, moving his chair next to yours. “tell me what’s wrong and i’ll write it down.”

you shake your head a few times before giving in. “fine,” you cave and look over the student’s work. you place the page in front of the man and point a certain part of a problem. “okay, so he should’ve foil’d here but he didn’t so the rest of the work is wrong. put a line through it and write ‘foil’,” you instruct him and he follows your orders.

“like that?” he asks, showing you. you nod in approval.

“your handwriting actually isn’t that bad. i was expecting a lot worse,” you comment, leaning into him as you look over the next problem. “that one’s right, so put a check,” you tell him and he follows.

the process continues on. every time there’s a gap of silence as you examine the math that he would never even try to understand, he watches you in complete admiration. there are practically hearts in his eyes while the gears turn in your brain.

as the next few days progress, you and logan spend more time together than you ever have. whether he’s in your classroom during your free period or you watch whatever movie’s on tv together on the couch, if someone’s looking for logan, you’re right beside him and vice versa.

of course, the others have taken notice of it. it’s new and after you confirmed you had been sleeping together, they draw their own conclusions about the two of you.

“‘y’know what i would like to see?” you prompt logan as you watch a show with a lumberjack in it.

“what’s that, darlin’?” he asks, not taking his eyes off the screen.

“you chop wood,” you tell him, looking up at him from your spot under his arm.

“chop wood?” he questions.

“yeah, like, axe, wood, outside, shirtless, sweaty, and muscly, chopping wood,” you tell him, “lumberjack style.”

“lumberj—.”

“with the cigar,” you add excitedly, cutting him off. “maybe add in a little dehydration too.”

“i think you’re drooling a little bit,” he tells you, pointing at your mouth as a lazy smile rests on his face.

“probably, that’s hot,” you tell him, looking back at the screen.

as the credits roll, logan looks down to see you sound asleep with your head resting on his chest. he carefully picks you up in his arms and carries you to your room.

he opens the door and pauses his movements, eyes dancing across your room. there are no personal touches on the walls or shelves. it looks exactly like his did when he first got to the mansion. well, except for one obvious difference.

your room looks completely dilapidated, like an abandoned home that the sun and time have destroyed. the dark color of the wooden floors and furniture has faded, every surface dry and brittle. in some parts, mostly near the window, the wood is completely bleached of its color.

he lays you in your bed and covers you up, taking in the room once more before he leaves.

“why don’t you have another name like everyone else?” he asks as you sit next to him on the bench where you now regularly take your smoke breaks on.

“like a last name? i do have one,” you answer, flicking the butt of your cigarette onto the pavement.

“scott has cyclops, marie’s got rogue,” he elaborates, glancing over at you. you’re sitting right beside him, his arm thrown over the back of the bench in a way that your head rests on it.

“i don’t know. i guess i never understood why i have to change my name just because i’m a mutant. i am who i am, human or mutant,” you answer, messing with a loose thread on your pants. “plus, seeing the way you made fun of the others when you first got here for their names—i’d never even try to think of one now,” you tell him, making him chuckle. you smile proudly at making him laugh. “you looked so cute when you first got here.”

“are you saying i’m not cute anymore?” he asks in mock offense, looking at you sideways.

“i mean, when i first saw you, you had that big jacket on and you were so clueless. a little less muscle too,” you recount, poking his toned stomach to which he curls to the side. your jaw drops. “are you ticklish?” you ask him, a smile growing on your face.

“no,” he replies sharply and gruffly, straightening his posture.

“oh, my fuck. you so are ticklish,” you accuse and dig your fingers into his ribs, attempting to tickle him.

a deep laugh leaves him, and he grabs your hand in his, his facial expression dropping quickly. “stop,” he tells you in warning. you just laugh in his face, reaching toward him with your other hand, cigarette still between your fingers. he grabs your other hand before you touch him, cigar between his fingers. “no,” he denies you.

you look toward the mansion and see the sun reflecting off a window. you bend the light so it’s shining directly in his eyes, almost burning them. he shuts his eyes tightly and brings one of his hands up to his face. as quickly as you can, you reach back into his side.

he quickly stands up and looks down at you. “enough,” he says and points a finger in your face.

you stand up also, but you’re shorter than him so he’s still looking down at you. you decide to stand on the bench, now a little taller than he is. you don’t say anything, just look down on him with a straight face.

logan can’t help the smile that breaks his scowl. “you’re an idiot,” he tells you, raising his eyebrows at you.

you mimic his gesture then flick the cigarette butt onto the ground. “you are cute, wolvie,” you say and ruffle his hair. “i get the whole towering over people know. this is a power trip for sure,” you comment.

“oh, really?” he questions and puts the cigar between his lips. he grabs you around your waist and throws you over his shoulder like you’re as light as a feather.

you let out a surprised squeal as he walks away from your bench with you in his hold. “put me down. bad boy, bad dog,” you chastise him hitting his lower back. he doesn’t listen so you just hang over his shoulder as he drags you into the mansion.

you grab his ass abruptly and he stops in his tracks. he places you on the floor and tilts his head as he looks into your eyes, taking the cigar from his mouth. “‘bad dog’?”

“yeah, wolverine,” you say, gesturing to him.

“a wolverine’s not a dog,” he tells you, smiling down at you.

your brow furrows. “yeah, it’s like a small wolf, right?” you wonder and feel like an idiot when he laughs at you.

“no,” he answers, shaking his head.

“liar,” you accuse.

he tells you, “go to the zoo. there’s some there.”

you look up at him in disbelief. “you’re fucking with me,” she states and he shakes his head in complete amusement. “if you’re lying to me, i’ll—.”

“what? try to blind me again?” he asks, cutting you off.

“maybe i will,” you challenge, crossing your arms.

he pauses for a moment, considering. “maybe i want you to,” he says and his tone drops, like, two octaves when he says it.

you’re suddenly aware of how close the two of you are, how his hands gripped your waist just a moment before, how effortlessly he carried you. the playful atmosphere shifts and you feel heat creep up your neck and across your cheeks. you don’t blush, especially not around him.

“logan,” is all you say softly. he notices the change in tone. he notices everything about you, every detail, every flaw, every perfection.

for a moment, neither of you speak. the air between you is charged. your eyes travel all over his face. he really is such an attractive guy. and when you peel back the tough guy layer, he’s a sweetheart.

“thanks for the ride,” you say lightly, trying to break the tension.

he nods, gaze still locked on you. “anytime,” he remarks, his voice rougher than it was a moment before.

you both stand there for a few more seconds, not really sure where to go from here. his eyes shift from yours to your lip as you chew on it. his jaw tightens and he looks away from you, taking a step back to give you some space.

your heart pounds against your chest unfamiliarly. everything about this feels so new to you.

“see you around, pup,” you say, your voice back to its teasing tone.

“yeah,” he adds, watching as you turn away and walk back toward the mansion.

more days pass and you spend more time with logan. he notices that you make fun of him more, teasing him for small stuff.

it’s only when he’s in the laundry room that ororo catches him alone. “hey, logan,” she greets. he mumbles something of the same. “so…you look pretty cozy with a certain mutant.”

“huh?”

“you know what i’m talking about,” she says, leaning against a washing machine.

“it’s nothing,” he tells her, starting the machine he threw his clothes into haphazardly.

“‘doesn’t look like nothing,” she returns.

“leave it alone,” he grumbles, turning to leave the room.

ororo steps in front of him, placing a hand on his chest. “please, don’t hurt her, logan,” she requests.

“she doesn’t want me the way you think,” he tells her.

“you can’t seriously believe that,” she says, looking back and forth between his eyes.

at that very moment, you turn the corner and your eyes widen. you ignore the sting in your chest as you let out a loud “woah.” ororo quickly turns around and takes a step away from logan. “i didn’t mean to interrupt,” you tell them with your hands up in surrender, but that was exactly your intention when you spoke up.

“you weren’t interrupting anything,” logan tells you, watching you move past him to grab a laundry basket.

“i’m not judging,” you reply, walking back to the door. you turn back last second and look at ororo. “hey, if he asks you to wear a red wig, say no,” you tell her with a wink before leaving.

“i never—,” logan cuts himself off, shutting his eyes and shaking his head. “i never did that,” he says to her.

“God, i hope not. what the hell,” she remarks, shoving his arm. “she was jealous. you need to go tell her nothing happened.” he sighs deeply and takes a step forward. “‘you really still think she doesn’t want you?”

he doesn’t reply and follows after you. you’re walking as quickly as you can up the stairs when he catches up to you. “hey,” he calls after you.

“don’t worry, buddy. secret’s safe with me,” you tell him, picking up your pace as you reach the top of the stairs but he keeps in step with you.

“there’s not a secret. we were just talking,” he says.

you place a hand on your bedroom doorknob. “really, you don’t have to defend yourself to me,” you say and open your door, slipping inside. before you can shut it, logan stops the door with his hand. you look at him through the crack in the door, pushing your lips into a thin line. “uhm…”

“there’s nothing going on between me and storm,” he tells you.

“i’m not gonna tell anybody,” you return, frustration rising in your tone. you push against the door but your strength is in no way comparable to his.

“i’m serious,” he tries again, almost pleading. “i don’t want her, i want—.”

“jean? look at that, finishing each other’s sentences again,” you cut him off with a false laugh.

“come on, darlin‘,” he says, tilting his head to the side.

you groan. “i just thought—,” you stop yourself, sighing. “it doesn’t matter what i thought.”

“it does matter,” he tells you, pushing the door a little wider. you move into the space between the doorway and the door, trying to block his view into the room. “tell me,” he encourages, getting closer to you.

“i thought you weren’t a whore,” you retort, giving him a hardened look.

“that’s not what you were gonna say,” he states lowly, looking deeply into your eyes. “what was it?” you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, biting into the skin. he reaches his hand to your jaw, his thumb pulling the lip from between your teeth. “don’t do that. you know it drives me crazy.”

“i thought maybe you wanted me for more than sex,” you admit, feeling embarrassed as the words slip out. you clench your jaw, preparing for the rejection. a smirk slide onto his face and you drop your head. “okay, bye.”

you move back and push against the door again, but this time he pushes the door all the way open. your eyes widen as he takes a long stride toward you and pulls you back to him by the back of your neck. he presses his lips against yours feverishly to which you obviously reciprocate.

he pulls away and rests his forehead against yourself, breathing heavily. “i want you in every way possible, sweetheart,” he says.

you swallow thickly, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him away. “you don’t want me,” you tell him. he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back into him, your chest pushing against his.

“i do,” he counters.

“you don’t,” you respond.

there’s a beat of silence. “i do,” he says again. you just look up into his eyes. “i want you. i’m not the best person for you, i know that. i’m older and unhappy and i probably can’t be there for you emotionally,” he lists then shakes his head at you, looking at you like you make the world go round. “but i want you, i want every part of you—the good, the bad, the hot and sexy, and the rude and snappy. everything.”

you’re quiet. you don’t know what to say, what is there to even say? in your head, he’s always wanted jean and you were just a place filler. you’ve been under the impression that you caught feelings and he didn’t reciprocate them at all. maybe you’re wrong just this once.

“i want you too,” you tell him in a whisper. he watches your brow furrow as you look away from his eyes. his face falls. “but—.”

“no ‘but.’ don’t say ‘but’,” he begs, loosening his grip on your waist.

“logan, i can live with you not being there for me emotionally, but i don’t know if you can live with me not being for you sexually,” you tell him. dread takes over your body. this beautiful, morally grey, perfect-for-you man is in the palm of your hand and you’re letting him slip through your fingers.

her visible confusion deepens. “you’ve been perfect for the past few months,” he tells you, misinterpreting your words as insecurity.

you shake your head. “i meant it when i said i can’t fuck you sober,” you tell him slowly, avoiding his gaze completely. you feel his hands move from his loosened grip to a hover over your hips. you can’t read his mind like you usually can. logan wears his thoughts on his face, perfectly readable when he’s mad or happy or just his normal grumpy. but now, it’s like trying to read a book in a language you didn’t know existed. “i’m sorry,” you add when his silence becomes too much.

“i don’t care,” he tells you as soon as you finish the last syllable.

“you know i don’t apologize for shit and you don’t care that i’m sorry?” you ask him. you go to push him off again but he pulls you back in, this time wrapping his around your neck, smothering your face in his burly chest.

“i don’t care about sex,” he tells you as he rests his head atop yours. you return the embrace and hold him around his ribs. “i don’t care if you never touch me again. i love you.” your eyes widen and he feels your body tense up. he chuckles, pulling away and smiling at you. “too soon?”

“a little,” you tell him, nodding. you then smile back at him.

———

a/n: i haven’t written in a long time . pls don’t rip me up if u hate this🙏

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anastasiabowe · 8 months

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𝘾𝙃𝘼 𝘾𝙃𝙄𝙉𝙂! — Your husbands who just can’t say no to your cute little face, but sometimes that comes with a cost you will have to pay.

note: This one came to me in a DREAM. I want a man like this, so why not make my man like this?🤷🏽‍♀️

Content warnings: overstim, piv, punishment, rich husband, spanking, tough love, swearing, anything else 17+

★ — 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜

Nanami loved when you were happy. It wasn’t even a happy wife happy life situation, it was a I love seeing her smile situation. He never denied you of any expensive item you wanted. I mean how could he say no to you? He watched as you practically skipped around the mall with his black card, showcasing it if anyone who glanced at you.

He smirked seeing you happy, but yet he felt a little disappointed by your lack of self control. He knew what he was getting into when he pulled out that million dollar ring. His strong arms were lined with black bags and name brands, your hands only holding his card and one small bag. He didn’t mind though, as long as you were happy!

But don’t think he lets you get away with everything! If you have an attitude after this shopping spree, which you do, he will punish you, and that’s because he loves you! It was an agreement, if you can spend his cash, he can use you, or what he likes to say, “enjoy you.”

“Nanamin!” You whined as your new set of black nails tried to push his stomach away.

“Yes?” His deep, yet professional voice oh so casually responded, despite his deep thrusts.

“P-please slow down! I can’t t-take it!” He chuckled at you, you were too cute to ignore, but this is what you deserve! You spent thousands of dollars today, and when he simply asked “are you almost done?” You give an attitude? Oh no, no, no. You weren’t going to get away with that.

“I’m sorry baby, just wanna show you who’s paying for everything you bought today. Just wanna show you who you were giving an attitude to.” He started to speed up, and you cried from the amount of orgasms you’ve had.

“Just one more, then you can have a break.” He kissed your head, and readjusted his position, you both know it won’t be one more.

★ — 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜

Toji hated when you spent his money. And what I mean by hate, I mean he will hand you his card and regret it later. You’re actually a modest shopper. You have a bit of an expensive taste, but you have respect for Toji enough to not go crazy. But when Toji had handed you his card at the mall and gave you and said something back handed, you went a little wild.

You bought new heels, expensive jeans, expensive make up, expensive bags. You swiped his card until your hand had a rectangular shape from how hard you gripped it while you tapped it to the card reader.

When Toji later that night checked all of the receipts (which you purposely got so he could see how mad you were) he nearly blew a fuse. $10,000 worth of items you bought. Even though that is nearly nothing compared to how much is in his bank account, it was the principle of it.

“I give you my fucking card only for you to use it like a fucking piece of plastic.” His hand smacked your left ass cheek, making you dig your nails into his thigh.

“I-I’m sorry!” You cried. He rubbed his hand over the deep red mark, and tsked.

“I bet you are.” He landed two more hits to your left and right cheek. You let out a whimper and he ripped both of your cheeks again.

“$10,000, y/n. What were you shopping for, a house?” He chuckled at his own joke, but you didn’t find this funny. He landed another smack. “What made you think that was ok?”

You sniffled from crying and the rage you felt earlier burned through your body again. “Maybe if you didn’t call me a gold digger, yo I wouldn’t be $10,000 poorer!”

The word “poor” irked something in him he hasn’t felt in a while. He grabbed your hair and pulled your head up.

“I’d watch your fucking mouth, I’m the one who fucking pays for your shit.” He spat, you frown, and your bottom lip slowly popped out. He knew what you were doing, but it wasn’t going to work.

“Nah, don’t pull that shit.” He smirked, but the longer he looked at your face the more guilty he felt.

“Y/n.” He warned. You continued to look at him with that face, and he sighed. “You spoiled brat.” He let go of your hair, and moved you to straddle him.

“Just don’t be spending my money all crazy ‘n shit.” You nodded, and he rolled his eyes.

You always fucking win.

#jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami kento #nanami smut #kento nanami x black reader smut #nanami x reader #nanami x you #toji x y/n #toji x you #toji smut #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji zenin #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji x black reader

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rynfiles · 26 days

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love island — aot edition !

✎ᝰ — aot boys on love island

★ — eren, connie, reiner, jean x reader

★ — genre + warnings: fluff + boys being boys, casa amor, connie and reiner are the REAL lover boys and no one can change my mind !!!

★ — a/n: i have a bat boys version on my other blog :)

꒰ EREN JAEGER ꒱

ꔛ everyone’s favorite pretty boy or highkey most hated in america, no in between. I feel like he’ll be either very miguel codex or slightly rob coded, aka either open asf or an “onion”

ꔛ he was quite friendly and engaged himself with everyone, platonically or romantically. he gave like a brotherly vibe or “best friend’s brother” vibe

ꔛ butttt I will say that eren was a bombshell that EVERY girl was swooning for and loved all the attention that he got. he was being indecisive on which girl he’d couple with cause he really wanted to get to know everyone

ꔛ a lot of people in america either disliked the way eren moved in the villa or understood where he was coming from. he honestly has tried multiple connections but it seems like none can click in a way that he wanted, no matter how much he tried :/

ꔛ as days and couplings pass, eren decides on the person that was for him, another new bombshell that everyone loved as well. your aura was radiating soft colors, friendly, kind, and a safe space for eren. ever since then, eren has been nothing but smiles, laughs, and always exuding soft love towards his couple

ꔛ with you, he felt like he could see himself in the end, make your relationship official, and show you off. he’s always smiling after you guy’s chats, talking about the outside world and expressing how much he adores you, slight flirting here and there but that’s typical eren

ꔛ every time you guys recoupled, eren’s speeches were short and sweet. some of them weren’t his best but it was still cute how he tries to express himself for you

ꔛ neowwww casa amor, I fear all his respect flew out the window and he just did his own thing. did he think about his couple from time to time? sort of….but he did excuse himself by saying he was testing yall connection (typical male behavior). though, during the casa recoupling he felt his heart drop when he came back with another girl and saw you standing all by themselves, dolled up and waiting with open arms. just to be embarrassed by this man and the girl who stole all his attention

ꔛ for days, he would try to win you back but he started feeling like there was no going back after casa. he made breakfast, wrote cute notes, talk to your friends, any and everything he tried all he can to win them back. in the end, he accepted his actions, the feelings he hurt, and broke it off with the girl he brought back. even after that, he kept up with the little actions to show how sorry he is and slowly won his way into america’s heart :)

ꔛ in the end, eren got eliminated before the final 4. he wasn’t mad at it, sulked a bit cause he’ll miss his friends and all the amazing people he met but he does understand why he didn’t make it to the end. also gave himself time to enjoy you in the real world and potentially become a real couple

꒰ CONNIE SPRINGER ꒱

ꔛ oh connie, the lover everyone wants in their lives. he’s so kordell coded, it’s actually sick just thinking about it; he’s charming, sweet, patient, and funny asf. he was america’s favorite boy and you can tell he definitely didn’t mind the attention

ꔛ I would say he’s an og and got along well with everyone, however didn’t really have a connection. he was in a couple but that didn’t necessarily work out and it kinda broke him, he thought he was gonna be eliminated and don’t experience the love he deserves :/

ꔛ but God bless, you came in as a bombshell and stole that boy’s heart quickly. the boys teased him about how they can practically see heart eyes in connie’s eyes as you entered, but can you blame him? you were stunning, your outfit fitted you well, and your beauty made his pound, he thought he could it for a second

ꔛ ever since you entered, he was all over you and pulling you into multiple chats. he really wanted to get to know you and beg that there could be something between the two of you and there was! it wasn’t there initially but as time passed, you felt giddy when you saw him :)

ꔛ throughout your time with him, he would rave on about how much he adores you, compliment your appearance and personality, doing everything in his willpower to show how much he genuinely likes you. he didn’t force himself on you, he gave you enough space and let you figure out where you stand with him

ꔛ the first time, y’all coupled together, oh that boy was grinning ear to earrrrrr. your speech wowed him and made him fall for you even more. as he approached you, and spun you around, he just can’t get over you he can’t help it. it feels like bright colors and giddiness as he was around you

ꔛ oh casa amor was his BIGGEST villain. he contemplated on staying but the boys convinced him that this will be like a mini vacation from the villa, trust them!! oh how he wish he didn’t listen…

ꔛ casa was fun and he did enjoy the girls that he met, he kept his distance as well and tried to respect himself for those three days. however this one girl was just temptation in a bikini; batting her eyes, touching him in all the right places, knowing exactly what to say to win cornelius over and I fear it worked….

ꔛ one kiss outside challenges and connie became allured by this girl. his hands on her body, enjoyed being sweet talk by her, being clouded by everything she says and does. well, ‘til the morning after, he wakes up and realizes how great of a mess he made for himself. he kissed another girl which lead him into a slight panic cause he won’t know how you’ll handle the news; his heart dropped to his ass when he realized how much he disrespected you

ꔛ the recoupling after casa wasn’t the prettiest, even when he didn’t walk in with ole girl. he did enough in casa and bringing that girl back would’ve done more collateral damage. however, when he received news that you knew what happened, he knew he couldn’t recover from it. he became apologetic as you stood there with an emotion that was anything but excited or happy to see him

ꔛ he spent, and I mean DAYSSSSS, winning you back. he would try what eren did and he went above and beyond to win you back. cooking you breakfast, apologizing daily, write notes, pull you for a chat and try to explain himself, tell you how much he missed you during casa, and try to convince you how sorry he was. it hurts him extremely that you’re upset with him instead of joking and smiling with him like you guys used to, and he was even more hurt when he found out how much you cried while casa and after casa

ꔛ america screamed at you to please take him back cause he’s trying to prove himself that he does like you and didn’t wanna hurt you like he did. y/n pleaseeeee take him back, he’s been silently sobbing in his bed for four days cause he missed you :(

ꔛ the recoupling where you did forgive him, oh he almost lost it (in a good way). he almost cried when you chose him cause he misses your presence, your chats, your beauty, everything about you and no one could have replaced that for him. he didn’t want any chance to ruin what y’all built AGAIN, no matter how tempting

ꔛ connie made it to the final four and won WOOOOOO!!! america already loved him but the dedication and his authenticity to win you back made the perfect love story to win america over. I mean who doesn’t love male groveling ;) ?

꒰ REINER BRAUN ꒱

ꔛ THE BIG, SOFT BLONDIE <33333. he’s kind, sweet, a great helper, extremely understanding, and always there for others. he grew such great bonds with everyone and everyone in the villa loved him from day one

ꔛ an og in the villa that seems to be the most favorited but can you blame them? plus, he wears his heart on his sleeve and isn’t afraid to express himself with every person he’s interested in. he enjoyed his chats with everyone but he enjoyed yours the most, you bring this sort of energy that reiner can’t point out but adores it so well

ꔛ he instantly clicked with you from day one and expressed how much he’s interested in getting to know you. ever since then, you guys were joint at the hip and barely leaving each other’s side, and everyone in the villa always comment how much you two complement each other as you’re together

ꔛ he held your hand during your chats, let you lay on him, give you his full attention, giving you everything you need to know how much he’s invested in you. small compliments, breakfast with your fave drink, made you fruit bowls for snacks, given massages here and there, gave you small kisses, the list can go on how much reiner did for you

ꔛ every time the guys joked about how down bad reiner is, he just took it and agreed. he doesn’t mind being mister romantic for his couple, even after bombshells would pull him for dates and/or chats. he always found himself running back to you <3

ꔛ america’s lover boy and they couldn’t hate him one bit and the amount of fangirls he got? oh goodness, now everyone wants a reiner in their life

ꔛ oh reiner hated casa amor, he liked that he let himself experience it but one kiss outside challenges made you realize how much he missed you. he missed being your arms, he missed your smile, he missed your presence that brought him an immense amount of comfort and happiness. he could barely bare being without you

ꔛ thankfully, all the casa girls gave up and stopped trying to go after him from how much he sulked about missing you

ꔛ after casa was a bit….off. reiner was a bit anxious to tell you that he kissed someone and was scared that you were gonna leave him, he couldn’t let that happen! he worked up the courage to tell you and was ready to accept any sort of punishment that could come, including being apologetic until he was back on your good graces

ꔛ you and reiner ended up either being runners up or the winners! america couldn’t get enough of this big softie who had so much admiration and respect for his couple. he didn’t mind the results, he was just ready to get out the villa and make everything official with you <3

꒰ JEAN KIRSTEIN ꒱

ꔛ at first, america wasn’t really a fan of jean, just like with eren. came off a bit conceited but that ddin’t stop anyone to explore jean and they very much didn’t regret it

ꔛ I would say jean is also an og who quickly hit it off with the guys. some of the girls, not as quick or not as close as he wished to be. there was one person whom he wished he hit it off but it just couldn’t click for a period of time (you)

ꔛ it kinda hurt jean a bit that you guys didn’t get along romantically but it didn’t stop him from wanting to explore you with every chance he got. he’d pull you for chats, do small, romantic gestures, anything to get you

ꔛ even as he was coupled up, he made it clear that he was still open until the recoupling where the boys chose. oh jean was elated to be ready to pick you, his speech was so pretty and emphasized his growing crush on you

ꔛ as episodes passed on, they realized how much of a sweetheart jean is. his recoupling speeches were always thought out and held nothing back. he also made it a habit to kiss your cheek every time you guys recoupled

ꔛ there was a time where a bombshell stole jean and he did explore her. however, that was short filled and fizzled into just friends, mans was just too stuck on you

ꔛ mannnn, casa amor, oh casa amor. he didn’t mind going to casa, as he approached it with the mindset that he was just testing yall relationship, right? wrong! those three days lead to jean explore in a way that even he didn’t expect out of him. it’s not that he didn’t care about his couple but he sure tricked himself into that he was testing himself and boy did he fail!!!

ꔛ to make things worse than he already is, he brought a girl back like wtf. as you stood there, looking stunning waiting for jean, he brings in a girl and your heart shattered. you thought he genuinely liked you but now it seems to be a different reality of who jean is

ꔛ jean didn’t explain himself, he tried to but every excuse had himself look lousy. he gave up and couldn’t even look in you the eyes. a tear trickled down on his face as he realized the the damage he has done

ꔛ time after casa, he would give you space but still pull you to tell you how sorry he is. at times, he would ditch his chosen casa girl to apologize and show how sorry he is. additionally, he was quick to cut things off with the girl which didn’t end well…

ꔛ you would question if he was being genuine and did he ever think about you during casa. he said he did and he completely regrets casa for even existing. he spent days upon days to show remorse for what he has done. he didn’t need to and shouldn’t have tested yall connection just to prove something to himself, and he knew that

ꔛ he started to lose faith that he might lose you forever, around the villa sulking and being lowly. even as the boys encouraged him, he couldn’t bear to accept their advice and would instead go to your friends to figure out what to do

ꔛ you did take him back after one night where yall sat in soul ties and he explained how heavy his heart felt from potentially losing you, sighs coming out when he saw that your doesn’t light up when you see him, or how you would dump him and be with another man. it was a hefty speech that that included extreme emotions, ‘I miss you’, ‘please take me back’, lengthy explanations on why you’re the one he wants and not the other girl, how he would change for himself and you. he’s saying anything so you could take him back and thankfully it worked in his favor

ꔛ in the end, jean ended up in third place :). he enjoyed his time in the villa and felt like he came out as better person, to himself and to you. after the villa, you guys continued to grow what you had and became official in the way of a beautiful picnic and a heartfelt love letter

𖥻 I miss writing for aot BADDDDDDD. like yall don’t understand how much I miss writing for my babies 😣

𖥻 here’s how I see it. connie is kordell, reiner is kenny but white, and eren is miguel. change my mind !!

𖥻 I wanted to make connie and reiner’s longer but had to stop myself 🧍🏽‍♀️. blame champagne coast by blood orange

𖥻 bye babes, drink your water and I love you MWAH 💕

𝐕𝐎𝐓𝐏 💗: ephesians 3:20-21. glory to be God, I love Him so much

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kismetlotts · 1 month

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cw: oral sex, dub con, degrading words, controlling behaviour, breath play, angry sex?

Simon Riley who dates a clean freak, being woken up in the early hours of the morning to the sound of a hoover blaring through the house.

Making himself a cuppa as he pushed by you washing, tidying and putting away the dishes. Making sure each and every one was sparkling clean and perfect.

He’d help occasionally depending on how busy he was and assure you that you were doing a good job. His good little girl working so hard.

It was somewhat degrading how he spoke to you, like you were some sort of maid to him. Some maid that would tidy everything up for him and make sure he was living a clean, polished lifestyle.

Simon Riley who soon realises how much he enjoys it. I mean he worked in the army so of course he had a good little housewife that sat at home cleaning- if anything he deserved it. He was entitled to it. He’d shown you nothing but trust, honesty, love and respect so having you as his personal little tidy-toy was just fair. He was fair- when you were good he’d reward you.

He loved treating you to a nice cosy bath, massaging the muscles you’d cleaned with beneath the water as you snuggled up to each other. The bathtub only just big enough for the both of you but the closeness was comforting. You’d like his hands protecting you and easing you into relaxation.

But when you’d been bad- oh dear. When you’d argued he’d make sure to make life hell for you. That cup of tea he was just drinking? Now a puddle on the counter, the liquid dripping down the kitchen cupboards. His muddy, sweaty work boots that usually stay at the door? Now stuck on his feet with brown footprints traced around the carpet. Smug eyes looming down at you as he sprawled over the couch, watching you scrub out the stains he’d left.

He’d force you to come closer until you were kneeling right between his thighs. Taking out his already hard cock from his jeans and stroking it in front of your face. Your eyes hypnotised by the thick veins spiralling up his shaft-no longer angry because couldn’t process anything anymore; couldn’t stop your mouth from salivating. You wanted to wrap your lips around him, give into him and take him into your throat but you’d wait.

Wait so patiently. Innocent, wide and confused eyes staring back up at him just to piss him off more. To push him over the little ledge he was on until he grabs you by the hair and fucks your throat. Hips near about smacking into your face as you gagged and choked on him. His balls would bounce and slap against your chin too, leaving a quiet slap amongst your gargling and grunting.

If he felt really cruel he’d sometimes squeeze your nose while he thrusted in and out. Leaving you with little to no oxygen until he wanted you to breathe, until he allowed it. Your hot breath and pants of panic warm on his dick, making it twitch and drip infront of you.

He’d spend however long he wanted with you, going back and forth until he felt close. His orgasms barging in and he’d pull out, releasing over your face, in your hair and on the floor. Slapping his dick on your face as he shook his head at the mess, tuts falling from his lips and disappointment on his face.

“See all the mess now?” His gruffly deep, almost sarcastic voice asked but his hand grabbed the back of your neck, gently. Slowly pushing your face towards the cum droplets he had spilled on the ground. Them dark eyes of his staring back into yours, sticking you to the ground like you were melting in warm honey before speaking to you. Sighing while he tells you,

“This is what happens when a silly little slut like you gets distracted. Clean it up.” Before sitting back a bit, and watching you get to work.

#call of duty #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod x reader #cod smut #simon ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley imagines #dark smut #abuse k1nk #rapekink #cod ghost #ghost smut #cod mw

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pynkfairyheart · 1 month

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pairings: Onyankopon x black!reader

warnings: beach sex, fluffy

a/n: this was something i quickly put together bc guess what y'all. a bitch turns 22 today!!!! AHHHHHH. ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ we'll see if im sober enough later to share some pictures, but i do hope yall enjoy this fic. she's very cutesy

Birthday wishes

Loved. That's the feeling coursing through your body as the ones you loved sang you happy birthday. Your cheeks hurting from the attention and laughter due to Jean and Eren's off key singing.

Looking up from the dessert decorated with flames your eyes scanned the tent before landing on him.

The single dimple decorating his left cheek was prominent as he happily sang along with the group. The most handsome smile being sent your way as your eyes locked, giving you a full display of his gold grills decorated with your initials on each upper canine.

To say Onyankopon was a good boyfriend was an understatement. He was everything and more when it came to your wishes in a man. He was respectful, kind, passionate, extremely handsome, and the most caring man you had ever met.

Birthdays had never been your thing due to something always going wrong leaving you sad at the end of the night. However, with Ony he made it his mission to have you feel properly celebrated, always leaving you feeling like a princess by the end of the night.

Throughout the entire 3 years of your relationship, he seemed to make each birthday better than last. This year being a surprise trip to Bora Bora.

Forcing yourself to break eye contact with him you looked back down at the dessert just as the song ended.

“Girl, make a wish. I'm hungry” Sasha blurted out immediately, earning a chorus of laughs and a light shove from Mikasa.

Quickly thinking of a wish, you lightly blew out the candles and basked in the cheers and applause sent your way.

After hours of having all attention on you, there was finally a time when you and Ony could run off together.

Silently the two of you walked hand in hand as you listened closely to the crashing of the waves.

“You having a good day?” He broke the silence once no longer in the eyesight of your friends

“I am” You smiled brightly as you stopped to admire the sunset “I can't thank you enough for doing this, Ony”

A small chuckle escaped him as he stopped to look at you.

Unable to tear his eyes away from your face as his heart melted at the glow the orange hue dancing on your face gave you.

God, you were just so beautiful to him. The way you smiled down to the way the soft breeze lightly blew your sundress was enough to make him fall in love all over again.

“Don't thank me, princess. You deserve this and more” He voiced as his large hands gripped your waist, a gentle hum leaving him as he finally felt satisfied with the feeling of your body flushed against him.

“I’d do anything for you. I'm just blessed to have you in my life” He admitted, voice softer than before.

Leaning down his lips brushed over the sensitive skin of your neck before trailing up to lightly place a kiss on your lips

Before you knew it you were staring up at the colorful hues of the sky as he delivered slow and passionate strokes

“Ony” You mewled softly, nails scratching across his back as he practically laid on top of you.

"Mhmm?" He murmured, his voice vibrating against your neck before lifting his head to stare into your eyes

There was nothing you could do but drown in those chocolate brown eyes. Complete bliss surrounding you as the waves seemed to time perfectly with his delicate movements.

“I love you so much” You finally gasped out. Voice wavering due to the intense amount of love and pleasure coursing through your veins.

“I love you too, mama” He whispered, strong arms reaching down to hook under your leg, giving him a better angle

The moment was perfect. The crashing of the waves, transition into nightfall, and grunts that slipped past Ony’s lips

You weren't exactly a true believer in wishes but at this moment in time you were the biggest believer of all.

#ITS VIRGO SEASONNNN #anime x black!reader #aot x black reader #black reader #aot x reader #attack on titan #chubby reader #aot smut #aot onyankopon #ony x black reader #onyankopon x black reader smut #onyankopon x reader #onyankapon #aot onyankopon x black y/n #aot onyankopon x black!reader #onyankopon smut #onyankopon x black reader #onyankopon x black y/n #onyankopon x chubby reader

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rosemarydisaster · 4 months

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"Andreil are softies" "Andreil are feral with everyone else but sweet to each other" my brother in Christ their love language is manipulating each other into getting better. They flirt by jabbing their fingers into each other's wounds and double dog daring the other into saying it doesn't hurt.

No, you wouldn't like Andrew nor Neil in real life because most likely they wouldn't like you and they're absolutely nasty even to the people they love. Honestly is so refreshing reading a LGBT story that's not uwubified (not that soft and sweet stories shouldn't exist).

Neil and Andrew are college aged traumatized dudes with zero care for people's feelings, not soft boys. The fact that they still have some softness underneath is what makes it special. They're feral and they've never have had someone else be soft to them and they still try to give softness and allow themselves to receive it (not only with each other, but Bee, Whymack, Renee, Matt, Jean). And the only way they get exponentially better at it through aftg is because they have each other and they viciously push themselves out of their comfort zones.

Andrew enjoyed psychologically torturing (exaggerating for the joke) Neil by referencing his past. They're soulmates not because they are cheesily in love, but because their jagged edges (the ones that hurt most people) fit perfectly. Because they're the devil the other needed to get out of hell.

Nothing against headcanons or fanon versions of the characters (hell, some might say I'm the one that doesn't get it). But to me aftg is really special in the way it doesn't romanticize trauma victims. Society loves perfect victims with submissive soft personalities and aftg says "yeah, some people are like that, especially if they have help or a support net. But survivors that are assholes also deserve love and respect".

Understanding Neil and Andrew doesn't erase all the shit they do and say that's absolutely uncalled for. It contextualizes it. Andreil aren't the most agreeable people not even as a couple. But that's the joy in it. Watching the guy that considers threatening people with knives appropriate behavior carefully taping plastic bags to keep his boyfriend's bandages safe. There's a reason people didn't get they were a thing at first: they're assholes to each other. They're also the most in love people in the world. They can coexist.

(please don't kill me for having opinions feel free to disagree)

#aftg #all for the game #andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten

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dilemmaontwolegs · 10 months

Note

Crazy For You was so good! Do you think you’ll continue it or write more similar to that?

Crazy For You Too || LN4

Summary: Just a little follow up the morning after part one ended. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, gaslighting, dub/con, dark themes WC: 1k Part One || Part Two || Part Three || Part Four

You woke the next morning feeling strangely groggy and hungover, like there was a laden cloud heavy in your mind. There was no way you were going to be able to go to work but you couldn’t find your phone to call your boss. You searched everywhere but it wasn’t where you usually left it.

With no other option, you padded off down the hall to knock on Lando’s door.

“Good morning, Mr Riley,” you greeted the elderly man as he approached from the elevator.

“Would you keep it down next time, some of us like to sleep,” he grumbled as he walked on to his door. “You kids and your violent video games. Up at all hours. No respect.”

“Good morning, baby.” Lando opened the door and narrowed his eyes at Mr Riley before he pulled you inside for a kiss, but you were still reeling from the telling off you had just received. Lando looked like he had a late night and just woken up since he was still wearing only his boxers and his hair was a mess on one side and flat on the other. “What was Carl’s problem?”

You shrugged, genuinely perplexed at the entire interaction. “I don’t know.”

He frowned but it was gone as quick as it came. “How did you sleep?”

You shifted on your feet as you rubbed your wrist subconsciously, the ache seemingly coming on overnight. “Not very well. I had a really bizarre dream,” you admitted quietly as you walked further into the apartment. “I’m actually not feeling too good, I was going to call in sick but I can’t find my phone.”

“You’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached to your body,” he chuckled, handing his phone over. “Call from mine, love. Then we can go back to bed.”

Lando boiled the kettle while you called your boss, apologising for the late notice, but he was kind enough and told you to rest up. Sinking into the couch with a sigh, you placed the phone on the coffee table and dragged a blanket up over your body.

“Here, love, this will make you feel better,” Lando said as he passed you a steaming mug of herbal tea. You inhaled the aroma of lemon and ginger but there was a sweet scent that you couldn’t quite place.

Taking a sip, you hummed as it soothed your sore throat and snuggled into Lando’s side. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Lando took the cup and placed it on the table. “It must have been something good,” he teased. His hand drifted up your thigh under the blanket and warmth spread across your skin in response. “How are you feeling?”

“Hot,” you replied honestly, the need to remove your clothes suddenly the most sensible thing you could think of.

He grinned as he moved your trembling hands and pulled your shirt over your head before reaching for the button on your jeans. “Let me help you, baby.”

You moaned as the cool air kissed your skin but it still wasn’t enough. “I need you, Lan, please touch me.”

His eyes darkened as you fell back onto the couch, the blanket discarded so there was nothing hiding you from him. His mouth went dry and he licked his lips before he could use his voice, but still it sounded pained. “Where?”

You couldn’t think clearly with the fire blazing through you and you spread your legs in search of reprieve as you begged, “Everywhere.”

Lando’s lips eased the burning need in your core and his tongue chased away the fire that licked your skin. The room filled with the wanton sounds that erupted when he curled two fingers inside you and you buried your hands in his hair as you rolled your hips.

One orgasm rolled into the next as the room spun around you, your quick breaths leaving you lightheaded. You didn’t even think about the consequences as you tugged Lando’s hair until he looked up to meet your eyes from where he lay at the juncture of your thighs. “I need you to fuck me right now, please…fuck, what is wrong with me?”

“Nothing’s wrong, baby,” he soothed as he kissed his way up the length of your body before capturing your lips. He absorbed the cry of delight as he filled you in one stroke and the fleeting thought you had was lost when he started to roll his hips with long, slow thrusts. “I love you, god, you have no idea how much I love you, what I would do for you, for us.”

You barely understood his murmurings in your ear as your pleasure mounted and your nails found purchase in his back as you came.

Finally, the fire began to smoulder and you could breathe again. It was unlike any fever you had ever had and left you exhausted as Lando lay with you along the couch, dragging the blanket back over you as if he knew you were suddenly feeling the cold.

“Did you say you love me?” you asked as your heart returned to its normal rate, the whispers lingering in your fucked out brain.

“No,” he chuckled as he kissed your shoulder and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“Oh.” You felt foolish and your cheeks warmed with an entirely different heat as you started to sit up.

His arm tightened around you, keeping you flush to his naked body before you could escape. “But I’m fucking crazy for you, baby, of course I love you.”

A knot tied in your stomach at the confession but you put it down to the nervousness of admitting that you felt the same. You had never felt this way about a man and the way he treated you was unlike anyone before him. He spoiled you and took care of you, it was natural to fall for him. “I love you too.”

You felt his smile on your nape and his fingers tickled your sides as he drew abstract pictures on your skin. “So move in with me,” he whispered. “This can be us everyday.”

Click here for part three.

#lando norris fanfic #dark!lando #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #lando norris smut #f1 smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction

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princejiu · 4 months

Text

𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | alessia russo x mma!fighter

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 | Alessia encounters an unwanted attention and tries her best to hide it from you, knowing that you would absolutely do anything to keep her safe.

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 | blood, assault, violence, ptsd, cursing, maybe attempt of murder

𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲 | ik its been two months almost thre-anyways. this is 9 thousand something words and it took a lot of brain capacity.

The night was young, streetlights lit the city as rowdy adults filled London with joyous laughter. It was like any other Saturday night to most but not to Alessia.

She was leaving you home alone to attend Kyra's birthday party along with the other gunners. Usually, you'd be by her side through it all, but you were still healing from your previous fight.

Patched-up cuts and bruises here and there. None that you deemed bed-rest worthy, yet remained home to steer clear of the scolding you would get from your coaches.

So, here you were sitting with a large bucket of popcorn and the latest season of Love Island. It took a great deal to convince Alessia to leave your side for the night, refusing to go firsthand as the urge to smother you with love and care surged as time went on.

After countless reassurances and kisses, Alessia reluctantly switched out joggers for jeans and a pullover for a top. She stood in front of you, twirling to give you the 360. Deep down, you started to regret inducing her to go. While Alessia had a full blowout, you lounged on the loveseat with shorts and a sports bra. "And to think you didn't want to leave."

Alessia grabbed the nearest pillow and threw it, pointing a non-threatening finger at you. "Do not start teasing me. You were the one who was so adamant about me going. It's your fault I'm in this vest instead of my jumper."

"Love, if it makes you feel any better. I prefer you in nothing at all."

Alessia rolled her eyes, crossing her arms in annoyance. You grinned, beckoning her over, even when you managed to annoy her Alessia could never resist you. She trudged to you, pursing her lip when you patted your lap.

You grunted as she plopped down on you, the unexpected force taking you by surprise. It was Alessia's turn to grin, hooking her arms around your neck, yours to her hips. "I take it you didn't like my joke."

You were unfazed by Alessia's evil eye, more than used to it. "You do not get to make jokes like that. You're forcing me to go to a party I don't want to go to and you're watching Love Island without me. You're being mean." You snorted, and with a click, the game show switched to one of your old fights.

Alessia turned her head away, your fights always made her a bit queasy hence why she never watched them. "Yes, how can I be so cruel to my lovely girlfriend? I should be punished for my crimes." Alessia slapped your chest, not a fan of your mockery.

"Quit the sarcasm. Save that for someone else other than the love of your life."

You pecked her cheek, a quick apology. "You're right. The love of my life only deserves respect and devotion." She nodded her head in agreement, her pride growing as she had the big bad fighter everyone knew lay down the treatment she deserves.

"That is correct but don't think this sucking up made me forget what you've done to me."

You groaned, throwing your head back. "Love, you haven't left my side since my fight, normally I wouldn't mind but you've been cooped up all week. And it's Kyra's birthday, imagine the headaches she'll give you for missing it."

Alessia could already see it, Kyra having a kick at her for not showing up. The Australian was known for her little sister energy that never ran out, much to the unlikes of her teammates. Alessia recalled Kyra's recent mischievous act.

A week ago, Steph forgot to grab Kyra's favorite candy when making a store run and a childlike Kyra took it to offense. She hadn't stopped yapping the entire day, Steph departed training with ringing ears that lasted the next day.

Alessia didn't want to have a similar outcome.

"That rascal hid my boots last time because I refused to prank Katie. A nuisance she is." You smiled, Alessia's annoyance that wasn't targeted towards you was amusing to watch. You slipped a hand under her top, rubbing the warm bare skin a contrast to your cold hands.

"So, what I'm hearing is that I'm right."

Alessia gave you no acknowledgment, gasping when she felt your thumb dip below her waistline. You leaned in for a kiss, though you were met with a flat palm to the face. You pulled back, scrunching your nose. Alessia smiled widely, "No messing up my lip gloss, darling."

For the very first, you scowled at Alessia's bright pink lips. The desire to botch Alessia's perfectly applied lipstick grew by the second. You exhaled sharply, leaning back to put some distance between you and her restricted lips. "That's unfair. You look ravishing and you're saying I can't kiss you? Must you tease me?"

Alessia giggled under her breath; she kissed your neck, unapologetic about her teasing. "Oh, my big baby. Have the consequences of your actions come to play?" You frowned at Alessia's mocking pout, the way she spoke as if she were speaking to a child stirred something within you.

You roughly tugged her closer, inches away from her lips. You removed one hand from her hips, gripping her jaw in a tight-loose hold. Your thumb swiped her bottom lip to the corner. Her once-perfect gloss now smudged and not in the way she would have liked.

You brought your thumb to your lips, putting on a little show, humming at the taste of strawberries on your tongue.

Alessia froze, she didn't expect you to turn the tables on her so fast. You grabbed Alessia's phone out of her back pocket, hearing a ping. You opened her phone, purposely ignoring her. "Vic's here. You should get going if you don't want to be late."

Alessia remained unmoved, stuck in a trance you led her into. You chuckled, no emotion behind it, standing up causing Alessia no choice but to do so as well. You took her chin in between your two fingers, "A little quiet, aren't we? What's the matter, Alessia? Have the consequences of your actions come to play?"

Alessia gulped at the bite in your tone, she shouldn't have baited you. It always ended with her pinned to the bed, a position she loved yet a lesson she never intend to learn. Alessia's phone pinged once again, she paid it no mind too focus on your little stare-down. "Better get going before Vic comes up and knocks down our door."

Alessia hesitantly took her phone, squinting as if she was trying to figure out your plan. "Just like that?" You raised a brow, ignoring the pinch of pain as your stitches stretched.

"I can do worse than a smeared gloss, you of all people should know that. I suggest you leave now before you don't at all." Alessia's finger hovered over her lips, she could feel the slight stickiness at the corners of her lips. You hadn't done much to taint them, but Alessia wished you did.

Your eyes began to soften at Alessia's timid stature, tipping her head up with a finger. Wiping away the small mess you created. "Have fun tonight, okay? I love you."

A smile grew on Alessia, puckering her lips for a kiss. "I thought you didn't want to ruin your makeup" She rolled her eyes at your cockiness, pulling you down to finally bring you into a kiss you both craved.

Alessia was the first to separate, "I love you too. Don't wait up." She gave you one last peck, grabbing her purse on her way out. Swaying her hips side to side, mindful of your wandering eyes.

"Not having the time of your life are you, Less?"

Lia winced as Alessia's head snapped to her, "I am. Why do you ask?" Lia didn't believe the young girl and it showed, Alessia stuck herself at their rented-out booth, doing nothing else other than sipping on her club soda.

"You haven't moved since we got here. What? Are you not used to having your little bloodhound with you?"

That got a laugh out of Alessia, Lia grinned cheekily. You were always a topic used to tease Alessia, two total opposites that fit together like a puzzle. She pushed the national captain as she poked fun at her. You were deemed 'The Bloodhound' early in your career by the media after endless fights where you left the cage a bloodbath.

"You can say that. She's still heal-" The boisterous of their teammates cut Alessia off, stumbling and cackling at whatever their drunk minds thought was funny. Leah threw herself next to Lia, pointing to Katie, her finger unsteadied as a result of her tipsiness. "I got it last time, McCard. It's your turn."

The Irish childishly shook her head, throwing up the bird, "No." Leah huffed, her infamous frown appearing. She turned to the person next to Katie. "Fine. Caitlin, you go."

"She's not going."

The blonde threw her arms up in frustration, so much for being capitan. "Someone had to go, Katie! You've been weaseling your way out of rounds for the last two months!" The said weasel denied it, though the smirk on her lips said otherwise.

Leah's glare intensified, she wasn't a quitter, far from it. Even as a drunk, giving up was never in her dictionary. She stood up, ready to drag the queen of reds to do her go.

Lia, being the only sensible one there, quickly sat the Williamson down, giving her a warning not to start a fight.

"What about our depressed lover over there? She hasn't done anything. No dancing, no drinking. A little mood killer if you ask me." Katie winced as she received slaps from all around, unable to pinpoint who exactly hit her. Alessia cleared her throat, dumbfounded by how she got dragged in.

Lia held out a hand, stopping Katie from going off her rockers and possibly digging her own grave if you were to find out about how she spoke to your fiancé. "Hey, now. Alessia isn't in the mood, we should respect that and be happy she's even here." Alessia squeezed Lia's hand, thanking her for coming to her defense.

However, the people-pleaser side of Alessia won. She moved to stand, but Lia's hand halted her from doing any further. Her concerns made Alessia glad that she had someone in her corner for the wild night. "It's fine. She's sorta right, I've been a killjoy. Maybe this will loosen me up."

"Are you sure?"

Alessia gave Lia the okay, slipping out of her hold, and down to the crowd. Internally gagging at the stench of body odor hitting her unexpectedly. Fresh air welcomed her as she exited the crowd, breathing deeply, the cool air traveled through and around her body.

She rested her arms on the bar, calling the bartender for the round she volunteered to collect. Alessia daydreamed as she waited, snuggling up against you after tonight sounded like the perfect dream to make into a reality.

"Hi."

Alessia didn't flinch at the new voice, too caught up with herself to realize that she was being spoken to. She jumped slightly at the tap on her shoulder, surprised by the close proximity. "Oh, hi." It was small and brief, a simple acknowledgment of him. That's all. At least Alessia thought it was.

"Are you here alone?"

Alessia shook her head uninterested, looking back at the bartender to see if he was preparing her order. He wasn't.

"Who are you here with?"

She sighed, annoyed that he couldn't get the hint. Unbothered to look at him, Alessia answered, hoping the mentioned presence of her team would scare him off. "I'm here with my mates."

"Brilliant. Would your mates mind if I tag along?"

Alessia isn't the type to be easily angered, she grew up with two brothers by force she learned how to have more patience than the average person when it came to men and their small minds.

But something about this stranger irked her. So, she bit her tongue of what she really wanted to say, 'fuck off' and instead said, "They would actually. It's a girl's night and they'll be really upset if it was intruded."

Her saving grave, the bartender came back and he wasn't alone. Alessia quickly picked up the platter, leaving without so much of a goodbye.

There were no cheers or clicking of the shots, as everyone threw their head back to down the hard liquid. Kyra emerged from the crowd, eyes blown and a big smile that stretched cheek to cheek.

She latched onto Alessia's arm, "You're being boring tonight! It's my birthday!" Kyra tugged her to the middle of the room, an area Alessia tried to avoid.

Alessia grabbed onto the nearest person, drawing them along, soon enough a chain of gunners were trailing behind her. Alessia took shot after shot, shortly after, her body relaxed into the rhythmic beats.

She neglected to notice the unexpected hands on her waist as the hands closed around her, squeezing tightly, Alessia instantly knew that these hands weren't a friend of hers.

She roughly pulled away, spinning to see the stranger from the bar. He wore a smirk, smug that he got as close as he did with her. "What the hell are you doing?" He threw his arms to the side, showcasing a little dance of his.

"Dancing, dear. Come back, we were just having some fun."

Alessia shook her head, disgust seeped under her skin. She felt repulsed at some stranger touching her. "No, leave me alone. I am not interested."

"It looked like you were pretty interested. What was that move you did? The one where you were moving your hips side to side. Do you mind doing that again?"

Alessia turned away, thinking it would be best to take her leave rather than speak to him any further. Alas, the stranger couldn't care less. He followed Alessia, shoving bystanders out of his way. "Wait! Do not run off!" She ignored him, scurrying to the booth of gunners.

Just as Alessia was about to reach the table, she was pulled back. She gasped as a huge body engulfed her, Alessia mustered up the strength to push away but the attempt was too futile. "Get off!"

Alessia curled up as much as she could in his hold, his efforts to land a kiss on her neck was challenged by her strong resistance. "I'm a nice lad! Don't be so difficult!" He laughed in disbelief as Alessia struggled, the scene began to gather the attention of nearby clubbers.

"Let me go! Fuckin prick!"

Everything happened in a flash, Alessia was yanked away, bodies meddled between him and her. Mixture of brunettes and blondes filled Alessia's sight.

"You're okay. They're handling it."

Alessia could hardly register Viv's soft voice, the tall Dutch led her out the club, withdrawing from the chaos as the fight got bigger. Viv rubbed circles on her back, trying to calm the shaken girl.

She ignored the security guards that rushed into the building, faint sounds of glass breaking reached her ears. "I'll take you home as soon as Beth is done."

Panic swept through Alessia, red eyes going wide at the thought of returning home. "No! If I go home, she'll know something happened. I can't- I can't-" Viv hushed Alessia, hugging the younger as she spiraled.

Alessia didn't have to specify who she was talking about, only one person was waiting at home for Alessia. That person is you.

"Less, are you scared of yn?"

It was a question Viv didn't want to ask but did. Alessia's reaction to going home wasn't normal especially if it held the person who loved you and you, her. It's a red flag that Viv wasn't so quick to brush off.

Alessia flinched, staring at Viv as if she said the most absurd thing known to man. "What? No! No! Never! I'm scared for her! If she finds out what happened tonight-" Alessia suddenly stopped, she didn't want to believe what happened, happened.

How close he was, how his hands were all around her, how she felt his front pressed up against her. It physically and mentally sickened Alessia to the core.

She collected herself the best she could, staring straight into Viv's eyes. "She'll kill him. Viv, those beatings she does in the cages are nothing. That's her having fun. But this will set her off. You have to promise me that yn wouldn't hear a word about this. Viv promise me."

You couldn't find out, not when Alessia knew the lengths you'd go to protect her. Not when she knew how ill-tempered you were and how easily you got lost in your fit of anger. Alessia was your weakness, she knew that you knew that. Which is why you couldn't know, Alessia had no doubt you'd go on a manhunt to track down whoever harmed her.

Viv gazed into the abyss, unable to comprehend the fear Alessia had for you. You were someone with physical power, that Viv knew, you had the skills and scars to prove it. It was what you trained for, nearly two decades you've been building up your skills to hurt people for a living.

The active terror Alessia showed let Viv know that you were lawless by your own rules. "Okay, okay. I promise. And the others will too." That calmed Alessia down a bit, she leaned into Viv's side watching the passing cars as they waited for the rest.

"Fuck off!"

Katie came out first, followed by the rest of the players and security guards. Yelling and cursing lingered in the air, Viv ignored it, guiding Alessia to the car. "Let's wait in the car. It'll be a while before they quiet down."

The unfortunate events replayed in her mind like a broken record, it kept playing and playing. If she was lucky, sometimes it'd short-circuit. Then, all she could see was you, it felt like a dream. Like you weren't real, and that she was simply imagining someone to protect her to the very end.

But you were real.

You were real and Alessia had a tough time believing that. Believing that you her knight in shining armor. Whispers of promises in her ear at night, how you engraved that into her. But, you were nowhere to be seen when Alessia needed you the most. Instead, you were at home resting.

Part of Alessia wanted to blame you, yet she couldn't, she wouldn't. Not when you were her person, especially not when Alessia understood very well that if you were with her, you'd be in a jail cell by the time the sun rose.

You lost the ability of control when it came to Alessia, if someone were to so much as trip her, you'd return the favor tenfold. The more Alessia thought about you, the more she desired to go home.

"Hungry? We can go to Greggs."

Beth peered over at Alessia, the young striker hadn't made a peep since arriving at the couple's flat and that was hours ago. Beth and Viv stayed up the entire night nurturing Alessia to a certain extent, she allowed. Which wasn't much.

She inhabited the couch corner, not even a slight inch off. She hadn't spoken, eaten, or moved, her brain going haywire, and they couldn't do anything about it.

Beth kneeled, placing a comforting hand on Alessia's knee, gaining her attention without spooking her. "Why don't you take a shower? I imagine sticky sweat isn't the best feeling on the body."

Ease rippled through the couple as Alessia finally moved in the last eight hours, though it was short as Alessia's movements were slow and calculated. Beth patiently waited for her, directing Alessia to the awaiting shower that called her.

The shower did more than just cleanse Alessia of sweat, the overwhelming emotions of the night washed down the drain never to be seen or felt again. Alessia preferred it that way, it was better to believe that it was gone rather than it be stuck on her.

She'd rather be numb than feel what she felt in that dreadful encounter.

Alessia avoided looking into the mirror, squeezing the towel around her tight as she exited the warm steam. The coldness of the early morning greeted her, she walked over to the bed, holding up the Arsenal pull-over Beth set out for her.

She quickly put it on, brushing it down only for her eyes to catch the coloring on her hips. Her fingers lightly grazed the finger-print bruises, her breath hitches as flashbacks of his firm grip on her were physically felt in that second.

Alessia wanted to cry, she didn't want to feel as if someone was standing behind her, she didn't want to feel as if she was being touched like some sort of pet.

Alessia pushed down her tears along with anything else rising to the surface. She walked out the room, the conversation hushed as she came into view, and Alessia didn't care to bring it up knowing fully well it was about her. She sat next to Viv barely returning a smile, "Feel better?" Alessia ignored her, that was the better option.

The truth would raise more questions than she could handle right now. "I'm going home. Yn probably stayed up for me and I don't want to keep her waiting any longer." Understatement of the century. Alessia couldn't grasp the fact that time passed, only assuming, too stuck in her void to feel time's existence.

"Don't fret. I called her and told her you were too tired to make it home. She knows you're here."

Stunned, Alessia sent Beth a nod. "Thanks, but I should really get going." Viv and Beth got the obvious hint that Alessia didn't want to be there anymore, she quickly shoved her phone in her pocket, zipping past them.

The couple hastily followed behind, catching Alessia right at the door. "Let us drive you. We can get Greggs on the way." They didn't give Alessia too much room to argue, Viv grabbed her keys as Beth pushed her out the flat.

"You can ride front seat."

Alessia carefully closed the door, releasing a breath now that she was alone. Beth and Viv had been absolutely sweethearts to Alessia during her stay, but she needed time to herself, time away from eyes that were waiting for her to break.

Slowly and quietly, she shuffled to the kitchen, not a single object out of place since she left. Alessia grabbed a water bottle, the first source of intake she allowed her body to have. The Greggs paper bag perched on the counter, dismissing what Viv had gotten her.

In the safety of her own home, Alessia felt her body ease into itself, the familiarity of these four walls secured her protection and well-being. Something Alessia never thought she'd crave so much.

She went in search of the only person wanted, needed. Weights were lifted off of Alessia's chest when she caught you sleeping in bed, looking ever the most peaceful. A state that she wasn't going to ruin with the truth.

Alessia brushed loose strands out your face, laying on her side, snuggling up in your arms absent from the scary world. Her breath hitches as you pull her closer, "You're back." Your voice husky, eyes still shut half-asleep. Alessia's fingers found your dog tag, turning it over to see the engravement of her name and jersey number. A chain you wore proudly. "I'm back."

"Did you have fun?"

Her fiddling stopped, a small shutter of breath escaped her as the haunting hours came back, this is where Alessia was supposed to spew a little white lie. But she couldn't. Never has Alessia lied to you, never thinking she would need to. This would be a lot harder than she thought.

"Less, is everything okay?"

Your eyes barely opened, the bright light peaked through the curtain nerved your sensitivity. Alessia used her finger to soothe your wrinkles, humming as she tried to lull you back to sleep. "Can't remember much of it. I had too much to drink."

Two lies in one.

Alessia remembered everything and frankly, she didn't drink enough to forget.

You patted her back, comforting, "That's alright. You're home now." Your words brought her more comfort than you can imagine. Alessia was home now; she was home with you, within these four walls. She couldn't be more safer than she is right now.

In your upcoming years as a fighter, you were taught to control your emotions going as far as to eliminate them. The human instinct to feel sympathy for beating another wasn't an option when it came down to winning titles.

By default, you suppressed them to the alternatives outside the cage. Thus, you didn't experience the depths of anxiety or stress like many others did.

But, in recent times it seems as if you're experiencing life in a new manner. You've never been more uneased as you have in the past week. Even minutes before your matches were you never this stressed.

And the main reason for it all is Alessia. The only person in the world to cause you to feel things you normally wouldn't. A blessing and a curse.

Alessia wasn't acting like herself lately, a bit distant something she never was before. Alessia, by nature, was clingy. She clung onto you like a koala does a tree, cuddles, hugs, anything to make your bodies become one, she did. Which is why, her being so distant with you was concerning.

It's been a couple of days since her behavior shifted, at first you thought it was due to the rough start of the week, you were back in camp for your next fight thus your time with Alessia was shorten, she as well was dealing with some tension at work, none she was willing to elaborate.

You figured she needed some alone time to get through.

You tried to be there when she seeked you, yet she hardly did. And you didn't want to push her during a tender time, so you let her be until she was ready. Though, that didn't stop you from actively caring about her, little things such as making her breakfast, washing her uniform, nothing excessive in your mind. Still, Alessia appreciated it all.

Curiosity spiked when she began to wear long sleeves as if it were a second skin, typically you'd brush it off, thinking she hopped on some sort of fashion trend, but the summer heat had her drenched in sweat.

Your attempts to get her into your shirts-which she loved to steal and wear-was useless. Refusing constantly, Alessia stuck to her long-sleeves. You didn't push further, despite your worry each time she went out.

The electricity bill was off the charts that month in turn to keep her cool.

Your agitation heightened when Alessia started to spend more time in the guestroom, it was odd at first considering she rarely stepped foot in the room, in the two years you've lived there.

Guests sleeping over wasn't common therefore your guestroom remained unoccupied most of the time. Not anymore now that Alessia had taken the room for herself.

Aside from the guestroom, it appeared as if you were living alone. You were the only one occupying the common spaces, Alessia nowhere to be seen unless you looked for her. Eventually, your small time together doubled down to nil.

It pained you to see Alessia isolate herself, the last time she acted in such a way was when she was coping with body issues. An unpretty chapter in Alessia's life that none of you spoke about. To prevent a defense lock if confronted, you did whatever you could to build Alessia's self-love without addressing the matter upfront.

It was a bit difficult at first since Alessia's determination to avoid you persisted. You were limited to passing compliments, soft touches, and love letters that you laid in the middle of the bed for her to read when she got home.

Your brief time didn't stop you from showering your girl with the love that she needed and deserved.

The rough week passed and Alessia semi-returned to her normal state. She went back to stealing- your shirts, a more fitting attire for the summer- and her time in the guestroom lessened. She still retreated to the room here and there for an hour or two, nothing you were too worried about now that she seemed better.

Everything was going back to place that is up until, the festival incident.

It happened on a Wednesday afternoon, you and Alessia had gotten caught in the middle of a London festival. One you were aware of too late and thanks to your ignorance, Alessia faced the consequences.

You pushed through the busy festive, pulling Alessia by hand. Bodies pressed up against each other tight spaced, trumpets and cheers blaring in your ears. Rising temper balancing on the cliff's edge as you kept trying to find an escape route, the provoking factors placed you and Alessia on the brink of disaster.

You stood at a whopping six feet using the height advantage to look for an outlet, naive to the shifts in Alessia's breathing. Behind you, Alessia felt her mind and body going haywire.

She could feel her heart beating against her chest, head whipping side to side anxiously seeking for an out. Her throat closed up at the multiple touches on her, she shut her eyes to block out her surroundings but that only made it worse as she instinctively focused on her senses.

Alessia's eyes snapped open, feeling you tug on her. She instantly found your figure, taking her all to concentrate on you. Alessia internally struggled to not think about the prying flashbacks at the back of her mind.

It fought so hard to come forward, to torture her in broad daylight, but Alessia fought harder. She tried to pinpoint the difference between then and now.

The sun was the first she identified, the sun gave her clear view of everyone and everything around her, unlike the colored lights in the dark club. Then there was you. You were the major detail that differed to Alessia, you were there to protect and love her, that's all Alessia needed.

Yet, it didn't stop the strength draining from her body, replaced by what Alessia could distinguish as emptiness. It was in her best efforts to push down the vile feelings, but it was all in vain.

You stumbled back as you felt a cease in Alessia's step. You looked over your shoulder to see her head down, her form shaking like a madman. Without thinking, you closed the distance, calling out to her, but she made no sign that she heard you.

You lifted her head, eyes gaping when Alessia's red teary eyes made contact with yours. Less than a second, you wrapped Alessia in your arms, forcibly pulling her through the crowd, recklessly pushing people out of your way.

You sighed in relief as you and Alessia finally broke free of the bustling street ducking into a small alley. You leaned up against the building, Alessia sobbed into your neck as you settled her. Tears flowed nonstop, you ran your fingers through her hair, humming to tune out the festival's band.

"Can we go home please?"

Alessia looked up at you with her big blue puffy eyes, your heart broke. Your thumb wiped away the lone tear, pecking her forehead. The answer was a no-brainer, you pulled down your hood on Alessia's head, guiding her out the alley and to a taxi, keeping her as close as possible through it all.

For the next few days, you and Alessia isolated yourselves from the world. Alessia didn't want to speak further about it and as much you wanted to, you knew better than to push. You were just glad she wasn't shutting herself in the other room like before.

And Alessia hated it, she hated that you were walking on eggshells with her. She didn't want you to treat her as if she's fragile. Alessia's strong, she knew that she believed it, so why didn't she feel like it?

Instead, she felt suffocated. Alessia began to loathe herself because of it. The constant looks over her shoulder, checking her body as if bruises will appear, it's been two weeks and she can't move on.

A concern started to brew in Alessia's mind, she feared that your relationship may be the cost of her erratic paranoia.

In attempts to salvage or drag out the inevitable, Alessia spent more time with you, she no longer went on your daily walks, but rather to sit on the balcony for her daily fresh air. You didn't mind, she knew that you only went on those walks because Alessia suggested it first, couples' cardio she said.

In all her years, Alessia didn't know what to do, she didn't know how to save herself.

Too stuck in her head to feel Kyra poking her, the Australian entertained herself jabbing the mindless blonde. Giggling when Alessia didn't flinch at the dirty towel thrown at her face.

The younger picked up her water bottle spraying at Alessia, bursting out laughing when she screeched. "Kyra! Go away!" The mischievous player dodged the towel thrown back at her, running away before Alessia could do worse.

Alessia wiped the wetness with her shirt, thankful for Kyra unintentionally pulling her out of her prisoned thoughts. Leah patted the striker's shoulder, pitiful that Alessia had been chosen to be on the end of Kyra's pranks. "So, is the hound coming next week?" Alessia's lip twitched at your alias.

"What's next week?"

"You forgot? The sporting event remember, Jona told us two months ago."

Alessia racked her brain, trying to remember the said event. Then, it hit her, it was a small thing some organization was having to spread the word of football, gain some investors, nothing Alessia wanted to do with. She shook her head, tying up her laces. "I'll skip out. Not in the mood for socializing."

Leah gave her a look, "Mate, it's mandatory. You can't get out of it." Alessia groaned, her plans to laze around with you was a bust. Alessia liked the small bubble, you and her built in your time together, and she wasn't planning on leaving it so soon. But, it looks like she didn't have a choice.

"I'll ask her."

"Is there really a point to? We all know what she's going to say."

Alessia pushed Leah, the captain grinning cheekily at her, a teasing underlining in her words. Everyone who knew you and Alessia's relationship personally knew that you'd do anything she asked.

If Alessia wanted food from a place a town a way, best be known that you're driving all the way there. If she wanted a new car, you're taking her to the dealership within the next hour. In this case, you'd be attending before you were even made aware of it.

"Okay, I'll stop with the teasing...for now. We'll see you there, oh, and it's a white-themed dress code. So, tell the missus, no black. It's not a funeral." Alessia snorted, waving to Leah as she left the locker room. The drive home was about as peaceful as one can be after a long day at work.

Alessia pulled into the lot, funny enough, catching you as you stepped out of your car with a takeaway bag. She kissed you, your favorite way to be greeted by the love of your life.

You swung her gym bag over your shoulder. "What did you get?"

"A protein bowl from that Japanese restaurant down the street and your usual."

Alessia grinned, pecking you on the cheek. "You're the best." You hummed tiredly, holding the door open for her. "I have to speak to you about something." You perked, thinking that she would finally be open about what's happening these few weeks.

"There's this thing, me and the girls are attending. It's obligated that we go but on the bright side, we can bring a plus one. So, darling will you be my plus one?"

You deflated, disappointed but smiled nonetheless. Setting the bag aside, wrapping an arm around her waist, "I would love nothing more. Now, let's eat up. I'm starving."

"It also has an all-white attire. So, no digging deep in your closet for your black suits, darling."

"Son of a bitch!"

"Damn, mami!"

Alessia fought back a smile as you exclaimed loudly, she placed her hand in your reaching one, unable to fight a growing grin any further. She squealed as you spun her, her dress flowing in the air. "You look so good. Are you trying to put me to shame?"

Alessia rolled her eyes, slapping your chest, passing over to the mirror to put on the finishing touches to her outfit. "You flatter me too much." You looked at your girlfriend through the mirror, clearly offended by her words.

"If this is too much, then I'm not doing a good job. Because my girl deserves all the compliments in the world."

You rested on her shoulder, Alessia applied her red lipstick, in your mind she did it too slowly. "You do an excellent job, my love. I can promise you that." Alessia handed you her necklace, beaming at the sight. It wasn't just any necklace, but a 23-karat diamond necklace. One of its kind, personally designed for her.

You gifted to her on your first anniversary, a token that she belonged to you, an object of your love for her.

You clipped it, staring intently as she stroked the diamonds around her neck. Alessia's eyes flickered up to you, blushing, instantly recognizing the emotion swirling in your eyes. You bowed down to kiss upon it, your gloss sticking to her neck painting it with the outline of your lips.

Alessia tilted her head to the side, eyes closing in bliss. You pulled her closer by the waist, your fingertips resting on the zipper. Alessia pulled away when she felt the dress loosen around her, "We can't." You huffed at her breathless words, drooping your forehead on her uncovered back.

"Why? No one will notice us missing."

"Kim will. She'll have me running laps next practice."

You rezip up Alessia's dress, creating some needed distance. "We can't have that now, can we? Let's get going before I rip that dress off." You led her out of the flat, focusing on the numbers as the elevator went.

Internally fighting the urge to drag Alessia back to bed and have your way with her.

You grunted, feeling the hovers of Alessia's fingers dancing across your chest as she played with the buttons on your shirt. You wore a white pantsuit, two out of five unbuttoned, revealing your cleavage and dog-tag.

You looked too good, the longer Alessia studied you, the more regret bubbled in her stomach. She jumped at the elevator chime, you chuckled removing her hand from your chest, intertwining them.

You opened the car door for her, bending down to match her height as she sat in the passenger seat. The proclaimed passenger princess. "You gone a little quiet, Less." She ignored you, texting whoever was on the other end of the line.

You mockingly pouted, "Don't be bratty with me, love. You're the one who didn't want to take one for the team and run laps." You chuckled at Alessia's silence, walking to the driver side.

You cleared your throat, sipping on a glass of bourbon. Classical music played while businesswomen and men spoke as if they'd do any actual work outside this meaningless gathering. You scanned the room; blinded by the bright white all around. Not an interesting thing in sight.

You concluded that white parties sucked, and parties hosted by old men sucked even more. Them and their greedy ass money, you grimaced as the cheap liquor coated your throat, their inability to buy a good brand irked you.

You hid away in the corner with Alessia and her team, hanging off Alessia's shoulder like a piece of meat. You had no business being there, other than being her eye candy.

Usually, you'd be talking to Katie about her newly collection of red cards that never seemed to stay consistent, but she was too busy sucking up to her girlfriend and there was no way you'll get in the middle of that.

You prepared yourself as your eyes caught Kyra walking over after being shooed off by Leah, the mischievous smirk on her lips let you know that she found her next target, you.

Kyra plopped beside you, instantly ambushing you. You smacked Kyra's prying hands, "Kyra down! Down Kyra!" The little tussle wasn't fair, you refused to remove your arm from Alessia, but even with one hand, you were stronger than Kyra.

The younger girl ignored your demands, continuing her attempts to wrangle your drink out of your possession and into her mouth. "Kyra! I'll buy you a fucking drink! For fuck sakes!" Immediately, like an obedient puppy, Kyra unlatched herself from you, hands intertwined in her lap as she smiled innocently at you.

You whispered your departure to Alessia, well aware that you were doing everyone a favor by taking Kya away. "Follow me, you brat." She trailed behind you, sticking her tongue out at Steph when the older Australian caught her shadowing you to the bar.

As you left with the little troublemaker, the atmosphere in the Arsenal corner became a little calmer. Alessia giggled At Vic's story, the Dutch dodging the slap Alessia delivered, poking fun when she missed.

Vic's laughter died down as her eyes caught on something or someone. Alessia of her own subsided, curiosity knocked on her chest as Vic's body language changed into something Alessia couldn't identify.

"Less, is that the guy from the pub a few weeks back? The one who-"

Vic couldn't bring herself to finish, the effect still remained with Alessia, it was evident to all the girls. Alessia slowly and surely began to act like herself again, but the Arsenal girls knew better. They knew better than what Alessia was leading on.

She squinted as if it would help her see better through the vast crowd, a few bodies shuffled to the side revealing the reason for her all her recent troubles.

London was a big city, the percentage of running into the same people is less than one. The world had to be playing some sick joke on Alessia, as though it wanted blood to be spilled tonight. Something Alessia's been terribly trying to avoid.

Warmth drained out her system, suddenly everything felt chilly yet sweat lingered near her hairline. Alessia struggled to allow oxygen into her lungs, head snapping left and right,desperate to find you.

Vic tried to calm her, speaking in hush tones to get Alessia's attention. But it was useless, Vic called Leah over. Despite yelling for Leah, the entire team heard the urgency in her voice.

They rushed over, huddling over Alessia's shaking figure. Leah kneeled, cupping Alessia's face in her hands, coaching her through her panic. "Less! Alessia! Breath! Mate, breath!"

You shoved Kyra when she blew in your ear, rubbing the ticklish feeling away, never have you met someone so fearless of you. Granted everyone knew you wouldn't hurt Kyra despite her annoying antics. "You little shit, I swear-"

"Are you that MMA fighter? The Bloodhound, right?"

Kyra snickered, you pursed your lips giving her a look, one that meant that you're little fued wasn't over. You turned to the man in suit, he looked like every man in the room...dull. Can no man dress to save their life?

"Yeah, what's up?"

Kyra peeked over your shoulder, wanting a look at who took your attention away from her. Dread, that's all Kyra felt at the sight of him. She couldn't forget him, the bastard that hurt her best friend, someone you didn't know existed until now.

Kyra was aware of Alessia's severe desire to keep what had happened at her birthday celebration a secret.

Steph and Caitlin practically drilled it in her mind, not to slip up when you were around. Kyra didn't expect to see him again, no one did. But, to have him up front and center talking to you freely after what he had done to Alessia, sickened Kyra.

The Aussie searched for her teammates, hoping to catch someone's eye to tell them of the presence of their number one hit list. And Kyra did, however, it wasn't as she had hoped. Laura frenetically waved her over, pointing to you urgently.

"Do you mind if we took a picture?"

Before you could answer, Kyra wasted no time, pulling you away in the direction of her team. You let Kyra do as she pleased, taking in her hurried steps and anxious expression to mind. "Kyra, what-"

"Yn!"

You rushed past those in your way, cupping Alessia's face in your hands. Deja vu hit you like a truck, red teary eyes staring deep into your soul. You placed her on your lap, coaxing her to take deeper breaths. "I'm here, baby. I'm here."

You looked at the Arsenal women for answers, their troubled aura triggered the heap of anger lying underneath your skin. "What the hell happened?"

Some stared at you and Alessia with sorrow, others avoided your eyes, looking at literally anything else.

Out of everyone, the only person who had the galls to look you in the eyes was the captain herself. "Mate, it's not for us to say." Leah glanced over to Alessia, silently telling you that if you wanted answers it would have to come for her.

Leah loved Alessia like her own sister and she couldn't watch her be destroyed by what happened and as your friend, she couldn't allow you to suffer in the dark, clueless.

"Less?"

Alessia's refusal to meet your eyes remained, your jaw clenched. You loved her with all your being, but the anger brewing was too hot to handle. Everyone knew something you didn't, something regarding Alessia, and it didn't take a genius to know that it was serious.

"Alessia." Your voice stern, you were no longer allowing Alessia's excuses to fly over your head. Alessia shook her head, "Please. Please don't make me." Your heart clenched at her pleading, deep down you didn't want to pressure her, but she left you no choice.

"Alessia, what am I missing? What are they hiding? What are you hiding?"

Alessia looked at her friends for help, at the back of her mind, she knew they couldn't. But it was worth a try. Lia nods in encouragement, something so small but so powerful for Alessia.

She cradled your jaw, leaning in your ear, unwilling to see your murderous anger spiral to what she knows will end in crime scene.

The gunners observed as your face hardened, concern switched to rage in seconds. Your brows deepened, jaw and lip tight, what caught their attention was your clenched fists. Veins popped out from your arms to the back of your hand, knuckles ready to take some action.

Alessia pulled back, caressing your pale knuckles. Her lips moved but nothing was coming out of them. You couldn't hear her begging you to not do anything, you couldn't hear her tell you she loved you. You couldn't hear anything but your blood pumping in your ears.

You abruptly stood up, bringing Alessia up with you. You passed your fiance to the nearest person, Beth. "Get her out of here." You pecked Alessia's forehead, ignoring her calls for you to come back. You head to Katie, the sole person on the team who supported violence. "Where is he?"

Wordlessly, Katie pointed him out and what do you know? It's the same dude that asked you for a photo, you scoffed at the sheer audacity of men. You pushed past Katie, sidestepping Leah's hand.

You expertly navigated through the crowd, stalking up to him. Even at a distance, you could make out his figure, he was lean and scrawny, nowhere near your built physique.

You sized him up as you approached, just in time, he turned to notice you, overlooking the smoke coming out of your ears. "Hey! Back for that pic-" His words cut with a right hook to the cheek, and in no time, he dropped to the floor.

You climbed on top of him, balling his collar in your fist, the other delivering strike after strike.

The feeling of your knuckles connecting with his jaw was exhilarating, with every punch you imagine his bones cracking. You grunted as he fought against you, but he was weak.

The first blow was enough to knock him on his back, the countless you landed after offered multiple hospitalization conditions.

You yelled as you felt hands pulling you off. You shoved the random men off you, glaring them down as they took in your physical state. "Touch me again! I'll fuck all of you up!" You momentarily forgot that this was a sports event, the people surrounding you most likely knew who you were.

You watched recognition hit them now that you were in your true form. They heed your words standing back to let you do what you were trained to do. They couldn't save a man getting beaten, but they can definitely save themselves from you.

Huffing, you quickly grabbed the bleeding man by the throat, slamming him onto the bar. The sound of glass pierced everyone's ears, but you paid it no mind. Holding his upper body against the bar, smashing his face in.

You were aware that even your worst opponents didn't get this type of treatment, he was different. He touched your girl, he hurt her, and he was going to pay for it with his life. "Why did you touch her?! Huh?!" An answerless question, you didn't want an answer.

And it wasn't like you were going to get one, the amount of blood flooding his mouth limited him aside from his faint pleas for you to stop.

That only angered you further. "I'm gonna fucking kill you!" You let him fall to the floor once again, neglecting the slippery coat on your hands.

Alessia watched from afar as you mounted the stagnant body, repeatedly bashing his face. Beth tried to drag her out of the venue, but Alessia's too stubborn.

You did so much critical damage in a short span period, even from where she stood Alessia could see the blood streaks on the bar and floor. Leah took off first, Katie, Stina, and Steph following behind.

They all knew that you weren't going to let up any time soon and if you weren't stopped now. You were actually going to commit homicide.

Leah and Katie hook their arm around you, yanking you off. "That's enough! He's down!" It was a struggle for the two, you were too strong for them. Steph eventually aided in holding you back, and Stina helped push you four towards the exit.

Alessia quickly ran after you, the rest of the gooners chasing behind, unable to fight the curiosity to check the result of your wrath. When they got outside, they were met with you kicking a poor trash can into the road.

The four that dragged you out stood a safe distance away. The street bustling with dim lights and occasionally passing cars.

Alessia joined the four girls, knowing better than to interfere in your fit of rage when it was at its peak. Alessia studied your new appearance, growing breathless.

Hair ruffled; shirt wrinkled...stained with red patched. It was what Alessia was afraid of, you covered in red. You had blood splattered across your face; blood handprints swiped across your neck, your fists being the most coated.

You rubbed your hands together as if you were moisturizing, the blood quickly drying due to the cold night air. You sighed, a bit calmer now, muttering nonsense to yourself as you paced up and down the sidewalk.

Alessia took it as her cue to walk over, none of the gunners tried to stop Alessia. Wise enough to know that you would never hurt Alessia even in a foot of rage. "Baby. Baby." Her voice was soft, not to startle you.

Your wide eyes darted to her, unexpected by her presence. You were too lost in your fury to be conscious of your surroundings.

She tried to reach for you, but you retreated, shaking your head. "I'm okay, darling. You won't hurt me." You swallowed the lump in your throat, Alessia tried once more, pleased when you didn't move away.

She grabbed your hands, inspecting the cuts on your knuckles, it was hard to see but Alessia managed to pick out the open wounds.

She ignored the blood on her hands, roughly pulling you into a hug. The weighing of all these weeks came crashing down on Alessia, relief flooded her. However that relief was cut short by the sound of sirens, "We have to go! Now!"

Alessia balled the bloodied clothes, throwing them in the trash, it consisted of your entire outfit along with her dress. Its beauty gone as soon as another color tainted it.

Alessia didn't want a reminder of what happened tonight, even though it represented the degree you'd go for her. You nearly beat a man to death for her, guilt tormented Alessia.

The last thing she wanted was for you to run into problems because of her, Alessia roused from her mind upon hearing the water ceasing. Alessia walked into the bathroom, leaning against the doorway.

You sat in the tub, steam rising from the water. You held out your hand, silently offering her to join.

Alessia didn't think twice before she began stripping from her undergarments. She hissed at the heat, lowering herself deeper into the water until it reached her collarbones. Alessia rested back into you, your arms wrapped around her nude waist, burying your face in her neck.

You two sat in silence, embraced by the steam and contents of the hot water. There were no words to explain tonight, Alessia wasn't going to scold you and you weren't going to apologize. You both knew that tonight was needed for both your sanity.

When you passed Alessia over to Beth, the separation that you placed between you and her signified that you were going to do something she wouldn't like. Your attempts to get her out were for her sake, not yours. You weren't keen on her seeing the monster you become.

"I love you, you know that?"

Alessia rested her head back as you peppered kisses on her skin, her eyes fluttered open staring right in yours. Eyes that held love, more than she's ever seen in her life. "I know."

Alessia didn't need to say those three magic words back, you knew, you always knew. What you need to know is that if she knew. If she knew that you loved her more than the world could imagine.

#alessia russo x reader #woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal x reader #woso fanfics #alessia russo #thehound

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