#back. I mean it does make sense that with everything going on she just lost Persephone and is going to lose Gansey she’d just focus on
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The Octavia Dilemma (Vent/Rant Post)
TW: Divorce
I want to make it abundantly clear that this post is about myself and my feelings on Via. This does not reflect the greater fandom or all Stolas Stans.
This is a reflection of my feelings and my feelings alone. Do not utilize this post to generalize all Stolas Stans since many of them are going to agree with about 60% of my post and I'm fine with that.
Moving on,
Hello everyone! It is I, Amalthea, the Ultimate Stolas Kinnie and Stan, reporting to you live on a topic I was initially going to not talk about, but became more compelled to talk about since well- I didn't want to talk about Stella. (I'd rather not lol)
When it comes to Octavia and her rejecting Stolas I have very, very mixed feelings on the topic. While many of you may think she was right or wrong, I'm going to give you the perspective from a person who lived this stuff during my preteens.
I won't go into details, but my parental unit picked another person over my family. Parent A decided to pick Person C over Parent B and that will never not mess me up till this day.
When Parent A left, I was alone without the only thing I wanted, closure. I didn't understand why I was abandoned. I didn't understand how Parent A just thought I didn't matter anymore.
Parent B had to struggle and I just had to- watch morbidly as my world fell apart.
One of the things I absolutely can't agree with Octavia doing is walking away from Stolas when he came back to her.
She has this entire speech, victimizing herself solely(not faulting her for it, just stating it), and not asking the question why and that is where I will say the Hellaverse team failed. Kids of divorce always ask the question why. We seek a reason and yet Octavia just makes baseless accusations at Stolas that hold no water.
I mean your father, the man who has stood by your side, and loved on you for ages suddenly has an affair with a strange imp from his past and you don't even- think to ask why? Or let him explain?
Octavia willingly parentified herself to cope, which again as someone who is parentified, that makes no sense to me. Parentification happens when no one is around to help you or support you, but Octavia had her dad right fucking there. She rejected him, and seemingly can't understand he's depressed???
Again, I am speaking for myself, but this entire rant of hers makes no sense to me. She's seen him light up around Blitz, be more open (maybe to open), and be happier, but doesn't acknowledge it???
My issue, a reminder I am talking about myself , with Octavia is she makes everything solely about herself and asks no important questions about her father. I know she is a rich girl, but she is shown to be empathetic and kind overall, so it feels out of character she doesn't even- try to understand. Even if it's hard.
When Parent A came back into my life I begged for a reason why. Why the hell did you leave!? What did Person C have that I didn't!? Why did you raise their child you didn't birth but not me!? What did I do wrong!? What was so bad you left!?
None of these questions were asked, Octavia goes straight to making accusations which makes no sense. The fact she expected Blitz to die??? Like Loona wasn't going to be fatherless??? Like she's 17. Via is a bright and smart girl. Did she really look down on Blitz that much??? (genuine question, not tryna be a smart ass)
Octavia: You lied to me.
Stolas: What?
Octavia: *pushes Stolas away* You lied to me! You said you would never leave me! You promised!
Stolas: Via. I-I didn't leave you I-I- I would never, it wasn't my choice.
Octavia: It was your choice. You chose HIM!
I also think this whole scene is why Stolas made the choice he made. While he had an inclination he could die- he knew his privilege could possibly save him. It's why he was a bit confused and not sure of what was going to happen.
He was hanging onto the hope he'd not die. Afterwards the reality sets in as to what he had just done and what he truly lost. Stolas took a risk on a hunch.
The man had no choice. As a father, as a person, as a soulmate, he was in an impossible situation where he had to use his privilege. He had no other option or Loona would be fatherless.
Stolas: Via, no! I didn't I just- I had to. You don't understand.
Octavia: *clenches fist as magic forms* I do understand! I understand that we were never enough for you! You never loved mother, and you don't love me, you love him. *holds up happy pills* And you needed THESE! Was this my fault that you needed these?
Stolas: No! No, never Via! *grabs Octavia's hands* Sweetie, please. You have always been the only good thing in my life!
Octavia: So does that mean you just stayed miserable because of me? *tearing up* Was I some fucking obligation? Is that why you didn't even hesitate when you got a chance to leave?
This next part always pisses me off because Via's expectation of her father are so high. That he cannot have autonomy outside of their family. She is so attached at the hip to him that anytime he deviates from loving her entirely it is a slight against her.
Also the obligation part of that statement boils my blood, because girl- you don't even know what it is like to have your parent look at you and tell you to your face "you're just a responsibility to me". Because I lived that shit. I lived knowing Parent A didn't want me because I was just to much.
Stolas stayed and loved on this girl. He gave her the whole universe and more and somehow that isn't enough.
Of course I sympathize with the sentiment, but nothing in Stolas's behavior nor him being with Blitz suggests she was ever solely an obligation to him.
If Stolas truly viewed her as a responsibility he wouldn't show any concern for her. Parent A in my life acted distant and emotionally withdrawn. They didn't take care of me anymore, acting like a ghost of their former self. They took care of my most basiepc and fundamental needs while Octavia is borderline spoiled and-
FUCK why couldn't I have that!? She sits there and complains but her parent came back for her?! She had a chance at closure and denied it! What kid of divorce does that!? What person does that?!
I know I shouldn't have this much turmoil over this. I really shouldn't. If anything I should be sympathizing with her entirely. Theoretically I should hate Stolas, but I can't because I know what it's like to be guilted for choosing yourself! I know what it's like to be forced to feel bad for being depressed! It's why I love Stolas so much and understand him completely.
But when it comes to Via, the character who borderline mimics my trauma I just- can't fully empathize. I can rationalize her thinking and- understand where it may stem from, but it still leaves me aggravated and unsatisfied.
While I may be ranting and rambling at this point- I may just be projecting and it's why I said to not take this post as something to generalize the collective- but I am thoroughly dissatisfied with Octavia's writing.
So much of it tries to mimic divorce related trauma, but none of what she has been through would initiate such a response.
She hasn't been abandoned, her father is right there.
She isn't an obligation, all of her needs are met and she gets all she wants along with a nurturing environement.
She was enough for her father, he came back for her. If she wasn't enough he'd never come back.
All of the claims she makes are easily debunked with rational thinking and do not make sense when you have lived through divorce yourself. Again, I can be projecting, but FUCK I needed to vent about this.
It just feels like such a fickle iteration of what real divorce looks like for us.
Ask Box is Open ofc.
#helluva boss#justhellaversethings#stolas#stolitz#helluva boss blitz#stolas goetia#hazbin hotel#stolas x blitz#blitzø#octavia#octavia helluva boss#ultimatestolaskinnie
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thinking of scrapped Blue Sargent plots… the og draft where she had empath powers… the way I definitely feel like the tapestry with the women with Blue’s face in BLLB was obviously meant to foreshadow Gwenllian, a woman with Blue’s powers being found showing she’s not alone in her type of power, but also feel like in context of td3 this might have been where Maggie first started thinking about playing with the doppelgänger trope… are the women Blue’s doppelgängers? are they Blue’s ancestors since Artemus is old enough that he knew Glendower? Gwenllian telling Blue that they’re witches? none of it going anywhere…
#I want to write a fic post TRK about Blue learning about her powers with Gwenllian I also kind of want to write an empath! Blue fic either#set in the timeline or maybe a medieval au#but I’d have to actually research to write said au so idk if that will happen but I hope the modern one happens#blue sargent#trc#BLLB opened so many interesting avenues for her char arc in TRK and TRK did nothing with them. L#s speaks#also I love the portrayal of her anger at Maura in BLLB … wish we got to see the complicated dynamics of Blue reconciling it once Maura is#back. I mean it does make sense that with everything going on she just lost Persephone and is going to lose Gansey she’d just focus on#having her back but. wish there was just a little internal monologue about it at least!
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Yandere Socialite (Fem! Yandere x Fem! Reader)
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Divider credits: @/anitalenia
Trigger warning: Violence, drama between friends, profanity usage, yandere themes, name-calling, sexual harassment, power abuse. Choking, pet play, humiliation, drugging, sexual scenes, bondage play, female on female
(8941 words)
You regretted agreeing to this.
Your friends were raving about this massive party, where all the hottest celebrities and the wealthy go to flaunt or make a fool out of themselves. Obviously, it was an exclusive event, no mere commoners could simply walk in. To enter, it's either paying an extravagant fee or be (in)famous enough. Which, you were neither.
They claimed to know how to sneak in, undetected by the burly bouncers that you would rather not be the receiving end of their anger. It made sense to have some tight security, it is taking place in someone's mansion; someone's home, after all.
You, being new in this city and desperate to make connections to you could advance your career, said yes. You stupidly said yes, put on your best clubbing outfit and makeup, and went through with your friend's plan to slip in through one of the back doors while the other distracted whoever was around to hinder the plans.
Which leads you to be lost in a seemingly unending maze of hallways, you don't know where the other girls went and you don't know where you are. There wasn't a single soul wandering around the carpeted floor and chandeliered ceilings. Elegant paintings of men and women in dignified poses seem to peer at you in disgust; a filthy commoner dressed like a tramp. You didn't belong here, and it's only a matter of time before you were thrown into jail thanks to the recorded footage from the surveillance cameras you're sure were pointed at you.
You covered your arms with your hands as you moved onward, cussing under your breath about how silly it was to wear a ridiculously tall heel. It's already giving you blisters, so you decide to take them off and walk barefoot; silently and dryly sobbing about how humiliating this feels.
You continued trundling on, periodically looking back and trying to see where the life of the party is at so you could at least witness how it's like. Perhaps make a few connections, but you think that's unlikely. Most of them are probably drunk out of their mind or high off coke to care.
Actually, what are you even doing here? You're supposed to be networking at a classy, evening soiree, not a rich boy's messy party!
Before you could sigh again, you were interrupted by the sounds of yelling in a room nearby.
"Get off me, fucker!" You heard an enraged feminine voice shout out before the sounds of crashing reached your ears. Groaning could be heard as you assume the other party was shuffling to get up.
"You fucking bitch!" Retorted a masculine voice, followed by more stumbling. "What the hell is wrong with you!?"
"We're over. Get the fuck out of my sight!" She yelled, but it doesn't sound like she was too hurt over it. It's more anger if anything.
"What...? Just like that?! After everything that I've done-"
"All you did was embarrass me over and over again! Like, does it kill you to take a shower? Does it kill you not to be an entitled, gross loser all the time?"
You inched closer to the door and discreetly poked your head in. You saw the back of a woman with the most gorgeous blond hair draping down to her tailbone. She's wearing a silver sequin dress that barely covers the fold of her bum.
The male, slightly drunk and injured from the shove with debris around him, was glaring at the blonde.
"Shut up, slut! If it wasn't for me, you wouldn't get to live like this!" He threateningly pointed at her, but she didn't budge.
"Oh? You mean that monthly allowance of fifty bucks from you? Please, I pick up my dogs' crap with it. That's how worthless you are to me, I'm only tolerating you because I'm doing your mommy a favour." She fought back, her words enraged the man even further.
"You can forget the deal our families had! I'll make sure the Maciovelli name goes to shit, you will be living on the streets before you know it!" He yelled right in front of her face, getting up close and personal; and having his stray spit hit her. She merely wiped them away.
"Ugh, you're insufferable. Whatever, I'd like to see you try, bitch." She hissed before shoving him away again.
But this proved to be a dangerous move, as it provoked the man to lunge and swing his arm at her. Luckily though, it seems she has predicted it and dodged his attack on time.
You had to do something! And so, you looked around as the pair went on to physically fight. Though, it's more like she's doing all the defense while he does the offense. Sometimes blocking his hits with her red handbag.
There is a vase nearby, decorated with intricate, hand-painted flowers. Without thinking, you picked it up and chucked it at the man. The antiquity of that piece of art be damned, that woman is in danger and you have to do something to help her!
She visibly jolted when it flew past some strands of gold and crashed onto her assailant's head, spraying shards everywhere and making small cuts on her legs. He was thrown backward and rendered unconscious almost immediately.
The woman whipped her head back to see the source of it, staring at you with wide, baby-blue eyes. You stared back at her breathtakingly stunning face; she had thin, sharp brown eyebrows that accentuated her fox-like eyes. Long, black eyelashes framed her iris as smokey makeup made her eyes look much bigger and lively. Her lips were glossy and in a shade of pastel pink, with a dusting of sparkly glitter.
You stammered, not knowing what to do or say. You're not even supposed to be here. So you remained silent as you and her continued this staring contest, the woman's eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe.
She began walking towards you, her heels menacingly clicking against the marbled floor of that room. You felt a surge of panic course through you, so you took a few steps back.
Only to be grabbed by the shoulder by someone else behind you. Chills ran down your spine when you heard the familiar sound of a walkie-talkie beeping. "I found one of the trespassers."
You started panicking even more, speaking erratically to try and defend your case. But the security officer wouldn't hear it, instead restraining you and pulling you away from the scene. You thrashed and screamed, not wanting to get caught and end your life as soon as it started. "I need backup!" Shouted the guard into his device as he tried to wrangle you into his grip.
You shouldn't have agreed to them, look what it has gotten you into. Your life is so over, you're going to be shoved into a jail cell and forced to move back to where you came from. If only you could-
"Hey, you fatass!" You saw her red, crescent handbag whack the officer in the arm, he flinched in surprise. "Hands off my best friend! And who the fuck do you think you are, calling her a trespasser!?"
A look of surprise crosses his face. "Miss Maciovelli? She's with you?" The officer took a look at you, there wasn't an aura of money emanating from you, not like how the woman was.
You looked back at the woman, now putting her hands on her hips. An irate expression adorns her face, "Um, yeah? I just said it, are you fucking slow? Let her go right now!" She demanded, raising the volume of her voice as her patience was running thin.
He sighed and released his hold on you. The man brought his walkie-talkie up to his mouth and said that it was a false alarm and that there wasn't a need for more of them to come over. They should focus on finding the rest of the intruders, which you can guess that they were referring to your friends.
"I'm sorry, Miss Maciovelli-"
"Yeah, you better be." She spat as she hooked her arm around yours. "Insulting my girl like that- why don't you all actually do your jobs and kick the real troublemakers out? Like that pig there, taking a nap on the floor. He tried to hit me and my best friend!" The blonde pointed her ivory-white acrylic nail to her bleeding ex, who seemed to be slowly regaining consciousness.
His eyes widened as he seemed to recognize the waking man. "O-oh! That's-!"
Before he could finish his sentence, the woman dragged you away from the scene. Pushing you by the shoulders and pulling you by the hand. You looked behind you to see the security guard entering the room while frantically speaking into his walkie-talkie.
"You're new. What's your name?" You were snapped out of your frazzled trance when she spoke. Her pace was slowing into a leisurely walk when she deemed it safe enough. The blonde's arm was still linked around yours, though.
Her baby blues curiously stared at you, all that malice and rage she held earlier was gone. Replaced with friendliness with a bit of wariness.
You told her your name and stumbled over your words trying to explain your situation as fast as possible. You made sure to thank her for saving you.
"Your friends are gross for abandoning you like that." She scowled. "I hate fake bitches like them, they should like, get shot in the head or something."
Your mouth gape open at her extreme remarks. Is this how socialites usually talk?
You defended your friends, telling her that they didn't abandon you. They probably just lost you as everyone scrambled to hide from security.
"Yeah, you're definitely new here. They knew what they were doing. You came with five others, at least one should be hiding from security with you." She brought you into a grandiose bathroom. The blonde finally lets you go and approaches the vanity. "Those sluts used you."
Miss Maciovelli pulled a tube of lip gloss from her mini handbag and began doing touchups. You simply watched her, not knowing what to say. Well, you should have seen it coming. Big city dwellers are known to be cutthroat, and you just met them.
"Sorry babe, but that's the reality here." She smacked her lip and wiped away any imperfections with her thumb.
You scratched the back of your head. You asked her if she could show you the exit, it's been a long night and you want to go home.
"You don't wanna stay for a little?" She asked, turning to you. "You're hot, I'm sure you'll have fun. I'll get rid of those snakes for you, if that's what's holding you back."
You shook your head, feeling exhausted after everything you went through today. You asked her if she's going back to the party, wherever that may be in this mansion.
"Duh." She bobbed her head.
There was a pregnant pause between the two of you. Until she decided to fish her phone out.
"Number." She extended her hand and brought her phone, numpad side to you.
You picked it up and entered your phone number. It's saved under your name, but you doubt that she will remember you after today.
"Oh, so that's how you spell it." She mumbled, looking at the contact name.
You watch her keep her device away before fixing her hair in the mirror again. She used a nail to adjust her eyelashes.
"Okay, let's go." She linked her arm around yours again, escorting you out of the bathroom.
You and she walked past numerous rooms and halls, some had excited shouts coming from them, some had salacious moaning and some had loud booming music. When you were nearing the core of the alcohol-fueled rave, the noise from massive speakers was nearly unbearable. You even had to cover your ears in order not to blow your drums out. But the woman didn't even flinch, she continued strutting along with you in tow.
You saw men and women feverishly dancing along to the beat, the surroundings were dark and illuminated by colorful strobe lights. Good thing you weren't epileptic.
"Heyy..."
You turned your head to see one of your friends. She's wasted beyond belief. "You... you made it! C'mere, I want you to meet-"
"Fuck off, whore!" Barked Miss Maciovelli, she yanked you along with her. Ignoring the expletives coming out from your friend's slurring mouth.
You asked if that was really necessary.
"Yep. They won't get the hint if you're this nice." She answered. "They'll keep trying until you're dragged down to their level. Don't ever disrespect yourself like that." She sternly warned you.
All you could do was nod meekly.
Eventually, you reached the exit. It's as grand and fancy as it was on the inside. You see a massive water fountain in the middle of a looped road. Yet, no cars could be seen but there were hoards of security milling around.
"Wait here." She left you on the marble steps as she approached a uniformed staff member. You watched them exchange some words before she marched back to you.
You thought that this was the end of your meeting with her. So you told her thanks and bid her goodbye while referring to her as Miss Maciovelli. She scrunched her nose up in disgust.
"Ew. That's so fake. Don't call me that." She crosses her arms over her chest, and you can see pale tan lines on her skin.
You asked what you should call her instead.
"Mercedes." She replied immediately. "You know, the car."
You told her that it's a beautiful name. She smiled and flipped her hair.
You told her that you better get going, it's late. Mercedes narrowed her eyes at you and grabbed your wrist.
"And how are you going to do that? It's an hour's drive from here to the city."
You said you were going to take the bus, that's how you got here in the first place. Worst come to worst, you would call a cab.
She shook her head defiantly.
"I'm driving you home, no way am I trusting those weirdos to bring you anywhere."
You told her that you would be fine and that you didn't want to be a hassle. To that, she rolled her eyes.
"Ugh, shut up." Mercedes punched your arm playfully.
A hot pink convertible then rolled up in front of the two of you. Its headlights are heart-shaped, you thought it was cute. "Miss Maciovelli?" Said the parking Valet.
"C'mon, don't be difficult." She urged you to get in through the passenger's side.
"This is your place?" She asked with a tone of incredulity. "Looks... plain."
You wouldn't call it plain. It's small but cozy. It's also all you can afford at the moment with your job, that's why you were planning to network around to get better opportunities.
"Hm." She hummed, releasing her grip on her pink, fluffy steering wheel to fix her hair.
You got out of her car and said goodbye. She didn't say a word but watched you get to the front door.
You look behind you to see her staring, so you wave bye. But she neither budged nor returned the gesture. Simply staring at you like a hawk. Feeling a bit creeped out, you went into the lobby.
Only then did she drive away. What a strange woman.
You sighed and trudged to the lift, pressing the button and resting your forehead on the cold, metallic panel. Well. There goes your only contacts in the city, they're all not good for you.
You didn't even get to know Mercedes's number, so until she texts you first, you're completely alone.
The lift opened to reveal no one. As usual. You don't think you've seen your neighbors yet, thinking they're either avoiding you, extremely busy, or extremely reclusive. Or living in an entirely different timezone.
When you reached your room, you decided to boot up your computer. While waiting for it to be functional, you did something else; preparing the things you need for a relaxing bath and boiling some water for tonight's five-star dinner: instant noodles.
You spent the night researching Mercedes, only searching her first name predictably bringing up results of the luxury car brand with the same name. But as soon as you searched for Mercedes Maciovelli, you began learning a lot about her.
She is the heiress of a very successful, multi-billion conglomerate company. Her family owns more businesses than you can count in two hands, they're also huge and famous companies. Banks, grocery stores, and even planes. It's scary how her family possesses this much power. That was such a silly thing for her ex to say, that if it wasn't for him, she would have been in poverty. Maybe it was just the heat of the moment.
However, she is no stranger to paparazzi as she frequently mingles with high-profile celebrities, gets into physical altercations, and goes wild in nightclubs. She is nothing like what was expected of her as someone who grew up in "old money". She's associated with words like "bitchy", "fiesty", "trashy" and "Messy". Whereas her peers barely have any information available about them online, they stay out of trouble and act too elegant for the paparazzi and tabloids to take any interest.
The most interesting bit about Mercedes was her dating life. Your eyes bulged out of your skull, seeing the seemingly unending list of boyfriends she had over the years. It's almost like she has a new one every month, but there are never repeats. Articles, gossip pieces, and smear forums about Mercedes are just so prevalent, that you think you're getting a cramp on your finger by just scrolling your mouse.
In the end, you're sick of seeing the public bash the blonde. It gets old and you're becoming tired. Perhaps aging has already caught up to you, but you cannot stay up past 12.
You decided to shut your computer off and head to bed.
It's been a few days since that party. Your "friends" kept texting you, trying to get you to join one more of their trespassing escapades. You gave them excuses upon excuses because you're not interested in such a lifestyle.
"Aw, don't be such a lame-o," Drawled one of the girls as she shook your shoulder. "Come on, it'll be fun! You had fun!"
The other girls continued egging you on in this expensive cafe. You were already uncomfortable meeting them here, as you can barely afford the cheapest of their pastries. At least the ambiance looks amazing in photos. If only you owned a digital camera...
You let out a nervous chuckle as you tried to decline as much as you could without offending them.
"There's another one tonight! You should totally come with us, I got like, the routes and everything already!"
"Yeah, think of the cute guys that's going to be there!"
"OMG, I heard Retro Rhymes are going to be there!"
"Really!? The rapper!?"
You sighed as they chatted amongst themselves. You silently picked at your muffin with your fork, that was the cheapest thing on the menu and the price was enough to give you eight of these back home.
Eventually, they must have forgotten your existence. Because they continued talking until they left the building. Not saying a bye or sparing a glance in your direction. Leaving you to sit at your table alone and brooding.
Well. You shouldn't expect much when it comes to friendships here. Many people come to the city solely to make money and have fun, after all. Not so much finding true, lifelong connections.
You took a sip of your black coffee. Again, the cheapest thing you could get from there. You couldn't even afford sugar or milk with it.
Suddenly, a manicured hand slammed a cup onto your table, shocking you and making you accidentally spill some of your drink onto your blouse.
"You should try this, it's so good. Way better than your boring-ass black coffee, I bet." You recovered from your initial shock to crane your head up to see Mercedes staring down at you from above, her soft, golden hair falling to your face.
You greeted her, asking what she was doing here.
"I could ask the same of you, seeing that you're pretty broke. But I saw how you still hung out with those sluts even after I told you not to." She cocked an eyebrow as an unimpressed look crossed her face.
Today, she wears a simple, lacey crop top and a pair of low waisted jeans. You got to know that she had her belly button pierced.
You sighed once more, burying your face in your hands. You told her you don't have a choice, it's a cold world out here and you need someone to fulfill that human need for socialization. Now that you have calmed down, you decided to take a better look at the drink she gave you.
It's a tall, plastic cup with a dome cover. It's an ice-blended, creamy mocha with chocolate syrup drizzled on the sides of the cup. It has a healthy dollop of whipped cream on top and a thick straw is sticking out of its opening.
"Um, hello? You have me." She moved away from you and took a seat next to you, she ordered the same thing. Mercedes shook it around before taking a sip. "You don't need them anymore, I'll be showing you the ropes."
You thought about it for a while. There is definitely a non zero chance that she will play you like a fiddle, but it's much better to have someone high up there in the hierarchy. Even though she isn't necessarily a mature businesswoman yet, you would still have a better chance to brush shoulders with relevant people. Not... Partygoers.
So then, you agreed. Picking up your cup and taking your first sip.
It was tooth-rotting. It was good, but you knew if it wasn't for sugar, this cup would not even be filled to half. The sheer sweetness of the treat made you grimace and pucker.
"What? Don't like it?" She asked, looking bored.
You said it was nice, but a bit too sweet.
"That's the point. I like it sweet." She took another sip from her drink. "Keeps me full for hours."
You... Don't think that's how it works. Isn't it usually the opposite effect? Whatever.
For the next few hours, you and her chat about almost everything and anything. Ranging from each other's histories, to each other's interests, to oddly philosophical questions and personal views on things. There were quite a few differences between you and Mercedes- obviously so, as she was raised by the uber rich and you were raised by... Your guardians, but you liked how she kept her mind open and was non-judgemental about you.
It was refreshing, really. Someone you could somewhat be real with, unlike your previous set of friends where you had to put on the most guarded mask in order not to feel like a pathetic lowlife around them.
You were curious about her dating habits, but you think it's rude to ask about it this early on in the friendship. Plus, it never came up, so you decided to save that question for another day. You bet if she's willing to open up, it will take more than just a few hours.
It's getting late, you should leave.
So you stood up, secretly in disbelief at how you finished the entire thing of diabetes. You told Mercedes that you have work tomorrow and you're going to need to leave soon.
She frowned. "Boo. Boring."
You said that you have to be "boring", you don't have her type of money.
"And it's literally just six in the evening. It's not like it's six in the morning or something." She huffed.
You said you have been in this cafe for seven hours.
"They don't close til 10."
Still, you have to get back home. You're tired.
She stuck her tongue out at you.
"Fine. But I'm driving you home."
You said there isn't a need for her to do that, you could take the bus.
"Let's go, you need your beauty sleep." She ignored you and grabbed you by the arm, pulling you along with her so quickly that you struggled to keep up.
Weeks would go by and you would meet Mercedes every Sunday in a different cafe of her choosing. And these meetings would increase in frequency each week, to a point where you were eating all three meals with her daily. She would always foot the bill and refused to let you pay for anything, talking about how you're so poor, that you're probably fighting rats for the scraps at the bottom of the dumpster. It's an absolute win for you; no cooking involved and you haven't eaten instant noodles for months now.
The five girls you originally started off with seem to lose interest in you, they never texted or called you again. And when you did bump into any of them, they would pretend not to know you.
It's extremely obvious that they're avoiding you for some reason, maybe it's because they've seen you buddying up with Mercedes: one of their sworn enemies and one of the most feared figures in this city.
It's... Surprisingly sad. Knowing that the friendship was doomed from the beginning didn't change the feeling of isolation and hurt in you. But at least you gained something that resembled a friend.
Mercedes would gradually increase the frequency of her texts and calls, hitting you up whenever she's bored out of her mind.
"Stop working letz go shopping"
"U r SO going blind in ur 30s"
"nerd :-P"
"im boreddddddddddddd"
"go clubbing with moiiii"
"letzzz goooo"
"stop ignoring me :-("
These were just some of the few text messages you would frequently receive, blowing up your phone even when you're in a meeting. You would usually need to turn it off entirely to keep yourself quiet.
But yes, you would go shopping with her. Mercedes seem to have a kick out of spoiling you with clothes, jewelry and other things you can only dream to buy.
You didn't like trying on clothes, because Mercedes would barge into your changing room however and whenever she liked.
"What's the big deal? We're both girls." That was what Mercedes would say when she slips into the cubicle, while you're mid-change without any warning. Of course, you would react negatively to that, especially since you don't know her that well.
In the end, though, you would just give up and let her come in. It's not like you could stop her and she isn't doing anything too weird... Aside from her vaguely longing stares at your partially or completely unclothed body. She would almost be in a trance, staring unblinkingly for long periods of time until you snap your fingers in front of her face. She just claims that you're just too hot for anyone to handle.
Mercedes would contact you via your phone, asking if you would want to go clubbing with her, or if you would want to be her plus one to an event. And each time, you would say no. And each time, she would whine about how lame you are but never pushed too far.
A temporary boyfriend would take your place, only for her to break up with them the next day and appear in another tabloid for some scandalous fighting or dating. When you asked her about it, she would get moody and irritable. She would rant about her feelings and problems with the world at large, finding the dating pool now repulsive and general standards insanely low.
"Ugh! Can you believe that he said that to me?"
You would have to nod, it would end her ranting faster. It's always the same phrase over and over again, with slight variation.
"I wish men were just like you, I would find it so fucking easy to commit to a guy. But they're not, so I rather shit my hands and clap. Oh my god, he was so pathetic and gross."
You could recite her words at this point, you got it the first time that she wishes she could date a male version of you. Mercedes didn't have to repeat that every single time you and her met up.
For her sake and yours, you pray hard that she finds what she's looking for. You don't know how much more of her repetitive complaints you can take.
All your other attempts to network and make connections fail. As soon as any of them knew you were Mercedes's "bestie", they would either run for the hills or become actively hostile toward you. She has made a lot of enemies and you don't think she has any girlfriends... Only orbiters or those who tried to get her approval but secretly hated her guts. Or die-hard fans who don't see her as a human, but as an object, whether for better or for worse.
She kept them around, just because she could benefit from them. Mercedes would bring them along to some of your many shopping sprees with her just so they could carry heaps of heavy bags for the two of you. While you and her get to enjoy the day, completely unburdened.
It unsettled you how she treated them like lowly servants, or even more degradingly so, like dogs. And not like one of her spoiled Pomeranians, but mutts that are bred to work and live off scraps of attention. You could be having a spa day at the city's finest specialist, sipping on complimentary champagne, and having your hair done with products that you cannot even pronounce; Mercedes would make her lackeys wait outside. Yet, they appear happy about this treatment from her. Eagerly following Mercedes and by extension, you, wherever you go.
It didn't matter who you tried to befriend, Mercedes's opinion of them would remain constant: They're all two-faced liars who are out there to kick you when you're down. It never changed despite never even meeting them or you made them up. She's fiercely protective of you, and always assumed the worst of everyone, even her own relatives when they tried being cordial with you.
Of course, the friendship has blossomed to the point where you would have a slumber party at her multi-million mansion every Friday. You wouldn't even need to bring anything, she would have everything ready for you; clothes, toiletries, hairdryers- anything you need to survive from day to day, you would have a more luxurious version of it. She definitely has an affinity for bling, as the tops that Mercedes provides always have rhinestones decorating them.
You were living in opulence, a lifestyle that can only be seen on TV, in magazines, or in history books. It's jarring and almost dreamlike how you got to experience such things just by chance. You didn't have to work hard for it, you just need to endure a spoiled blonde's clinginess to receive all these. What a steal. You had maids and butlers that would await your every order, personal chefs to whip up something delicious in a second, and hunky pool boys to ogle at when you tan with her outside.
You just wished that Mercedes wasn't so touchy, though...
"Like, sunburn isn't cute. C'mon, don't be such a hardass, turnover." You would groan and do as you were told, laying flat on your stomach and adjusting your sunglasses. Mercedes would then squeeze a handful of white sunscreen on her palm, and begin rubbing onto your exposed back and legs.
She would always take her time running her hands over your skin, sensually massaging from the base of your neck and down to your bum. Her flesh would glide against yours, reaching all that she could touch and occasionally squeezing your cheeks down south. Whenever you complained, she would say:
"What? Not my fault you have a bubble butt. No one can resist giving a squeeze." And continues fondling you under the guise of preserving your youthful skin from the harsh sun rays. You would sigh, slumping your head down as Mercedes continued doing whatever she wanted. It's her house, her money, and her influence after all. You're just riding on it for free. And it's not like anything is going to be too weird, you and her are both girls!
"Okay, I'm done. My turn." She would hand you the bottle of sunscreen and flip herself over. It's undeniable that she has a body that even Aphrodite would be envious of, thanks to a combination of genetics, her lifestyle, and other procedures. Mercedes does put in work in her personal gym, toning her body and alluring men everywhere. Her bikini would leave very little to the imagination, but it made sense why she needed much more sunscreen.
"Make sure to get it on here too." She would purr, playfully wiggling her plump rear. This would usually prompt an eye roll from you and a giggle from her.
She's soft to the touch. And you knew that not because you would have to smear sunscreen on her, but because she would often cuddle with you. It didn't matter what you were doing, you could be stretching in her living room, and she would wrap her arms around your waist. You could be curled up on her fluffy sofa, watching a sitcom, and she would crawl up all over your space. You could be sleeping, and you would wake up to her being the big spoon. And she would have the audacity to whine about how you ruined her sleep by moving around.
But you must admit, she is comfortable to cuddle with. Especially when you rest your head on her voluptuous breasts, allowing yourself to sink into them and inhale her sweet, floral perfume. It would be heaven squared when she would rake her long, acrylic nails through your hair. Mercedes would let you twirl with her golden strands, playing with them between your fingers.
You think, maybe it's because she's just lonely and a big fan of physical touch. It must be exhausting to constantly think every single person in the world is out there to get you. But does she have to be so... gross?
"I just want it." Mercedes would whine, demanding that she wants your drink. You would ask her why, you also drank out of this straw anyway.
"I didn't like my order."
You pointed out that you ordered the same exact thing as her.
"They didn't make it right!"
You asked her what made her think they made yours right.
"They just do!"
You said it's just going to be the same thing. Why not throw hers away and order another one, seeing that she has near infinite amount of money?
She would groan in frustration and stomp her heels on the ground. "It tastes better after you drank from it, okay!? I don't know what it is about your... fucking saliva that makes something so mediocre, tastes so good. Now, gimme!" Mercedes would snatch it out of your hands and swapped it with her one.
You drank more than half of yours while Mercedes barely touched her cup. Well, more for you, you guess. At least everyone is happy.
This habit of hers would extend to utensils, you knew she would purposely drop her dessert spoon just to eat from yours. Mercedes would steal your clothes, claiming that your outfits are always cuter than hers, and she's jealous.
But she chose and bought you these clothes...?
You were so used to her antics, that one day, Mercedes gave you a new brand of gum to try. However, when it touches your tongue, you immediately grimaced as it was the most atrocious flavour ever.
"Whaatt? Are you fucking serious? That's like, my favourite flavour!" She would look at you in disbelief. And you would look at her in disbelief, because this was the first time seeing her buying this brand.
You told her that you wanted to spit it out, it's awful.
"Don't waste it!" She hit you on the arm. "Spit it in my mouth." Mercedes would part her lips wide and bring her face close to yours.
Without thinking, you expelled the partially chewed up candy into her orifice... which she gladly accepted and began chewing on it. Sucking whatever flavour that was left on, including your fluids.
"What are you talking about?" You could hear her obnoxious chews between words. "It tastes fine, you're so dramatic."
Upon realizing what you just did, you would shudder in disgust. Quickly walking away as if you're trying to run from the memory.
Soon after, Mercedes would permeate through every aspect of your life. It seems like she had a chat with her parents about offering you a job at one of their firms. A high standing one at that, too.
You obviously accepted it and resigned from your previous post. Now, THIS is what you're talking about. A prestigious job with unbelievable benefits and tasks that doesn't seem too hard for you to do. It's everything you wanted you achieve, ever since you arrived at the city.
Well, minus the fact that your bestie who got you this position would intrude your office every chance she gets and talk your ear off.
"Ughhh... this is so boring... Let's ditch this place and go somewhere fun." She would rest her head on your shoulder while shaking you by the arm.
You said you can't. You have work to do.
"Says who?"
You said your boss.
"Who's your boss?"
For the fifth time, you told her the name of your supervisor. But instead of complaining, she would storm out of your office. At first, you thought she would leave you alone, maybe she's tired of bugging you and got the hint that you're a responsible adult with adult jobs.
But, ten minutes later, she would be barrelling in with your boss in tow. She had him in a very unsavoury grip, her hands tightly clutching his sleeve.
"Tell her!" She demanded.
"Y-you're free to go. Someone else can cover for you."
Your eyes would widen, asking if this will affect your pay.
"Not at all. Don't worry, I will have this... agreement in writing. Please e-enjoy the rest of your day." He would then quickly excuse himself from the room, avoiding Mercedes's fiery glare.
You looked at her. How could she just do that?
"My Dad owns this company, duh. Anyways, less talk, more walk." She hooked her arm around yours and dragged you out of the office.
It's as if her father was paying you just to babysit his bratty, adult daughter. You barely get to do anything for the company! You don't even know what you were hired to do in the first place anymore.
It gets extremely suffocating being her best friend, you don't know anyone around except her. The staff in her mansion is always rotating, so you wouldn't see the same face twice. You barely remembered your supervisor's names, let alone any colleagues'. All your free time is robbed by Mercedes, she saturates every single second of your life. You don't remember not seeing Mercedes's pretty face on the daily, yet it's astonishing how she would get the paparazzi on her for constantly dating a new roster of boys each season and getting into catfights with other women. Where does she find the time to do that?
It's rubbing on you, now you begin to crave a boyfriend. A 'boy toy', as Mercedes would call it.
It shouldn't be too hard, you know that you're good-looking; you have the clothes, the hair, the makeup and you can always steal from your filthy rich best friend. Your bank account is a little chubbier now thanks to Mercedes. If you just put yourself out there, you're sure boys will flock to you.
But you shouldn't tell this to Mercedes, you get the vibe that she would be jealous that you're stealing the spotlight. You aren't trying to do at all, you're just curious to know what it's like to live like Mercedes for once.
So you had to do it secretly. You would always decline her requests to join her clubbing, preferring to favor sleep over drug-fuelled parties. But recently, you would cover up your eyebags with concealer just so you could introduce yourself to the market. It goes without saying, that you're not tagging along with Mercedes, you went on your own and told not a single soul.
And it was a success! You have never received so many free drinks from men before, you even witnessed some of them fighting over you, all physical and mock-macho. It was hilarious and flattering, but the other girls would avoid you like the plague and shoot you nasty looks your way. It's much worse than you expected it to feel, you feel... rejected, alienated, and ugly. Was this how Mercedes felt? Is that why she thinks all other women are out for her blood? Well, you understand it now. And some of the boys would be really creepy towards you, it doesn't feel so good on the soul knowing the people who defended you from those weirdos are also creeps themselves. They just wanted a piece of you as if you were just a slab of meat in a cage of hungry wolves.
Though, it would be a big, fat lie to say you didn't feel free. You felt the freedom that died on the day Mercedes took you under her wing. It tasted so sweet, you wanted more and more. You were so addicted, that you took illicit substances just to keep you awake for longer, to party until the sun rises.
You were leading a double life: As Mercedes's goody-two-shoes bestie in the day, a bad girl gone wild at night. Make out with whoever you want to, drinking as much as you want and shaking yourself to the beat of the music until you drop.
You knew Mercedes was suspecting something was up, but at this point, you give no shits. This is your life, and you get to live it.
It didn't last long, though.
There was one night in particular; you remembered that they had a massive disco ball in the middle of the ceiling, reflecting every ray coming out of the projector. It was deafening, the smell of booze and sweat nauseated you but you didn't notice. The DJ was bopping his head to the rhythm and scratching records using his fingertips. The patrons were doing their own thing, some were dancing like no tomorrow, some were locking lips and some were snorting lines. It was one of those types of parties, the one where you first met Mercedes. Except this time, you successfully snuck in without your ex-friends and finally found the core of the rave.
Your hair was frazzled and you had a few wardrobe malfunctions, but why should you be bothered by that? It's not like everyone around you were dignified at all, you blend in and that's all that matters to you.
The details were fuzzy, but you remembered wondering what it was like to make out with a woman instead. Men had pretty rough lips and they smelled like crap. Why not experiment? You're here anyways, and no one is going to recognize you- whatever happens in this mansion, stays in this mansion. Plus, you already have a willing participant next to you, who has been hitting on you all night.
Later in the dark, you became bold from a mix of alcohol and whatever glowing pill you took from a giddy stranger. You pulled her aside to somewhere secluded, the two of you were clearly hot and bothered, deeply eager to explore each other's bodies. Nothing else matters in this moment, other than to satisfy each other's needs.
She pulled you in by the neck, pressing her full lips against yours. And you were correct, it was soft, fragrant, and delicious. A thousand times better than kissing stinky boys. You closed your eyes and melted into her touch, sinking deeper and deeper into the kiss. She's on top of you, straddling your hips and your hands are rubbing all over her body. The woman, who you didn't even know the name of, trailed kisses from your jaw down to your collarbones. Her slender fingers began to stray from your chin and roam downwards until it was dangerously close to the hem of your panties. You let out a muffled moan as she let her tongue taste every corner of your mouth, neither of you could speak. And neither of you wanted to, words weren't necessary.
However, your ecstasy was cut short when your lover was yanked backward. Confused, your eyes immediately shot open at the first taste of emptiness... only to witness something scaringly horrific.
"Fucking slut! How fucking dare you, how fucking dare you touch my girl!" Shrieked Mercedes as she had an iron grip on your lover's hair with one hand, and another was whaling on her non-stop. She was screaming in terror as your best friend inflicted as much damage as she could on her face. Scratches, punches, cuts, she had done it all. Mercedes pulled clumps of hair out from her victim's scalp and dodged every attempt of her to fight back. She was fast, fueled with the purest distillation of rage you have ever seen, mascara streaked down her face as she shouted until her voice was hoarse. Blood splattered onto her light-hued hair, her outfit was ruined and no doubt, a thousand dollars worth of acrylic nails were ripped from her nailbed as she threw brutal punches.
You panicked, trying to break the fight up but Mercedes was entirely immersed in anger that she didn't care that she lost her natural nails along with her false ones. She's also bleeding, scarlet painted her fingertips, knuckles, and up to her wrist as she went on tormenting your lover with more hits and pummels. At this rate, Mercedes might just kill her!
You attempted to restrain her, but she was too strong, easily overpowering you just so she could beat your lover to death. There was so much hatred simmering in her heart for this one stranger, this one woman you're sure she's never met. Why!? Why her!? Why would Mercedes attack her unprovoked!?
The fight, which was one-sided ended a few minutes later when your lover stopped moving and was covered in gruesome welts. Her eyes were swollen shut and there was blood pooling around her from her nostrils, scalp, and lips.
"You."
Growled Mercedes. She was breathing heavily and all her strands were out of place. Tears were flowing down her bloodshot eyes as she trembled.
You were speechless, you quivered in fear as you looked on. In the end, all you could mewl out was a meek "Why?"
This caused her to wail, scream, and sob. She brought her injured fingers to her head and gripped her hair, letting out all her frustrations and agony before composing herself enough to form a coherent sentence.
"Fuck you, Whore! Fuck you!" She pointed at you, her shrill voice was making your ears hurt, but you're glad she wasn't biting them off instead.
You said you didn't understand what was going on, why was she so upset.
"You were into girls all along! I-I-" She sniffled, ungracefully wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Soiling her face with her own blood.
"I'm... in love with you..." Her voice quietened as it wavers, Mercedes choked on her own tears as she confessed. "Why didn't you tell me...?" She gasped erratically as she cried. Suddenly, there was a spike in her emotions. "Why didn't you fucking tell me?!"
You took a few more steps backward as she lost control over herself again, she had to kick your already unconscious lover with her heels to calm herself down.
"I wanted you! I..." She let out one last bloodcurdling scream before lunging at you.
You tried evading her, but she was just too experienced in this. Within seconds, her hands are tightly wrapped around your neck; Choking them until blood rushes up your head. You clawed and clawed on her hands, but nothing worked. She was determined to kill you.
She gnashed her teeth as she choked the life out of you, her salty tears rolled down her cheeks, taking some concealer along with it showing that she also had severe dark bags under her eyes.
You started seeing spots, and your thinking became redundant as your brain shuts down from the lack of oxygen. Is this it? Your death? Killed by a nepotism baby with her bare hands?
You took one last look at her face, it was filled with pain and anguish.
You regretted agreeing to come to the city.
She was yearning for you, ever since she bought you that first drink. If you knew the depth of her twisted, obsessive love she harbors for you, running for the hills would have been your immediate reaction.
Mercedes cried herself to sleep almost every night, suffering from a heartache that could never heal itself as long as she knew you were straight. She knew that you would never share her feelings, because she was taught that everyone sees lesbians as freaks of nature.
She tried distracting herself with parties, boys, booze, and coke. But nothing worked, all she ever thought about was you, you, you. She loves you and wanted nothing but to be your lovely wedded wife. Oh, how she longs for a life where it's just you and her. And no one else.
Mercedes couldn't let you go, no way in hell. That's why she would scare off anyone who got too close to you for her liking, that's why she sent out hit after hit to eliminate the competition. Because if she can't have you, no one can.
But now...
"Sit."
You frowned, refusing to budge from your spot.
Mercedes pouted, she cupped your cheeks and stared deep into your eyes.
"Bad puppies don't get treats, you don't want to be a bad puppy, do you, baby?" She cooed in a babyish tone but with heavy condescension.
You couldn't speak, because there was a ballgag between your lips. Yet, you stayed still in defiance.
She narrowed her eyes at your disobedience.
"That's how you're gonna be, huh." Mercedes lets go of your face and sticks her hand into the pocket of her bathrobe. You heard a click, and soon you felt insane vibrations between your legs, it's coming from the vibe taped to your clit!
You let out a muffled yelp as the stimulation made you buckle to your knees, and eventually, you were on the floor, helpless as your hands were tied up behind your back. Juices leaked from your slit and onto the cold, smooth floors.
"Good girl~" She praised in a sing-song voice. Mercedes happily clapped her hands together.
Your eyes rolled back into your skull as you were about to be overcome by pleasure, but... the device suddenly stopped moving. Leaving you incomplete and agitated.
You whined and whimpered, wanting your rightful climax but Mercedes only smiled at your pathetic, squirming state.
"Aww, what's that? Puppy wants to cum?" You feverishly nodded, face burning from the degradation.
"Well, only good puppies get their pussy eaten. Are you a good puppy?" She rested her hands on her knees.
You nodded and let out a muffled yell.
"Roll over."
You tried your best to do that, but the frigid floor is stimulating you further.
"Play dead."
You lay still for a few seconds, your sex is still throbbing in arousal.
"Good girl, good girl!" She praised, giggling at you.
You whimpered, having tears bead from the corners of your eyes. You need that release so badly, it's starting to hurt.
"Mmm... you're so fucking hot..." She whispered as she slowly got down to the floor, slipping her hands between your inner thighs to remove the toy. Her pupils are dilating at the sight of your naked, dripping crotch. "I can't wait to eat you out. You always taste so fucking delicious." Mercedes brushed your puffy lips with her fingers.
"Open your legs."
She didn't have to tell you twice, you granted her full access.
"Good girl..." She purred before dipping her head down to drag her wet, pink muscle over your pussy.
You writhe as she tongue fucks you, lapping up everything and not letting a drop of your sweet, sweet nectar go to waste.
You would spend almost every waking second being 'trained' by Mercedes. Her treats are sex and the overstimulation of your pussy until you faint. You never knew that she was such a nymphomaniac, or maybe she just is that for you. Mercedes just couldn't get enough of your essence, so you're subjected to such treatment.
Well, at least you don't have to work anymore. You get to eat five-star meals and sleep in a mansion, and you get to binge-watch all your favorite shows guilt-free. All you had to be was Mercedes's pet and have her eat you out whenever she wants.
Her beloved Pillow Princess; was embossed in gold, on the hot pink collar around your neck.
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Some guy finds Red Hood annoying.
Masterpost
All Danny wanted was one peaceful day. That was all. What does he get instead? A 6’ foot, jacked, vigilante crime lord. (Anti-hero, is that what he is? Danny wasn’t sure.) Now Danny’s not gonna say that a tall, built, hot as hell morally gray bad guy isn’t always unwelcome. It was just this one. (Unless, apparently, you’re Jazz. “Seriously?” “Look I don’t need saving but if he wants to come to my rescue, who am I to complain.”) They have gotten into many fights since Danny first moved to Gotham. ( He had chosen to live in a crime alley despite being able to afford slightly better. The money from his college fund was dumped entirely into said school and the money he earned went to bills and groceries.) Said screaming matches weren't even really fights; they were closer to the squabbles he’d get into with Jazz as an annoying way to express concern for each other. (A habit they, unfortunately, learned from their parents.) So having these types of arguments with said morally gray crime lord had Danny wondering if it was too late to cancel Jazz’s flight. (She boarded an hour ago.) He didn’t want them meeting, actually he’d like to keep her as far away as possible.
That’s why it was really inconvenient for these guys to kidnap him today. He had to get his sister from the airport and now he had to deal with Red Hood? Really? Other than Dickwing, Red Hood was the last person Danny wanted to see in a kidnapping situation. At least the others didn't make him feel like he was disappointing them. Only Jazz was allowed to make him feel the sting of disappointment at being reckless (and occasionally Sam and Tucker). Now, Danny thought he had decent common sense (“Shut up, Jazz.”), but he would gladly admit that he didn’t have Gotham common sense. He wasn’t afraid to go out at night just because the Riddler got out of Arkham. Honestly, he didn't see why he had to be afraid given any time of day. Danny was pretty sure he was basically immortal. (“Immortality is not dying and coming back as a full ghost.” “Then what would you call it, Jazz!?”) This seemed to frustrate Red Hood to no end as Danny lived in his part of the city and Danny was prone to finding trouble. (It actually seems to find him, Danny’s not actively going out and looking for it. He’s just trying to get on with his life.)
Anyway, yeah, Jazz was flying in for the weekend and somebody had kidnapped him. A perfectly normal Thursday. So, in perfectly normal Thursday fashion, Spoiler and Red Hood had swooped in while Danny was in the midst of a really intense staring contest with the kidnapper across from him. (“You know the staring is flattering when Tim does it but you make me feel icky.” The man didn't move and his hard stare barely wavered. “Alright, but I warn you I’m really good at this game.”) A flash of purple and the goon was no longer standing. Red Hood had come in guns blazing and made quick work of the other two kidnappers as Danny waited patiently to be untied. He could have phased through the chains he was hanging by but he didn't see a reason to. Just because they knew he could turn invisible didn’t mean they needed to know about everything else. (“That’s gaslighting, Danny.” “Technically, Sam, I think it’s lying by omission.” “Tucker.” “Right, not helping.”)
“Sooo,” Spoiler sang once Danny was free. “Who’s Tim?” You know what? Maybe it was Spoiler he should have been dreading. Red Hood made his way over, “yeah, kid, you got a boyfriend you didn’t tell us about?” Mm no, he regrets being in both their presence. Danny waved their questions away as he turned in a slow circle looking for the door. He wasn't quite sure of the time, but he was positive he was late to pick up Jazz. He answered as he made his way to the unconscious body of the guy who lost the staring contest, “a friend, well, a customer - a regular really. Nice guy, cute, has a staring problem.” Danny stooped down and started digging through the guys pockets, “do either of you know where the exit is?” Thankfully the guy was the one with his phone, he didn't want to search all the kidnappers. Turning it on, Danny saw that he was late and Jazz had already caught a taxi back to his place. The text had got increasingly more panicked the longer he hadn’t responded along with an alarming number of missed calls.
Danny shot her a quick text as he followed Spoiler out of the building. Sorry, got kidnapped, am fine now. Please don't call. Will explain later. Love ya <3 He quickly added a selfie that Spoiler photo bombed over his shoulder holding up a peace sign.
The screen immediately lit up with a facetime call. Danny turned it off and stuffed it in his pocket. He really didn't want Jazz meeting Red Hood.
He turned to face his “saviors.” “Okay, this has been fun. Thanks for the rescue, sorry I can’t stay and talk but I am needed elsewhere.” Throwing a quick salute he started down the street. After a block and a half he stopped at the opening of an ally. “You know I hate it when you all just stalk me from the shadows, it's very Babadook of you.” Hood appeared first behind Danny, “what's Babadook?” “A gay icon,” Spoiler drops in front of Danny. “Very true,” Danny high fives her as he hears Red Hood sigh, seeming to mutter to himself, “this is going in the folder.” “Okay,” Danny says, addressing both of them, “you don't need to walk me home.” Red Hood crossed his arms, “you’d rather your ‘Tom’ walk you?” Danny really really didn't want Jazz to meet Red Hood. Danny sighed, “His name is Tim and he’s just a friend and I’d rather nobody walked me home, I’m a fully capable adult.” “Capable huh? That’s what you call last week’s fiasco?” Last week’s fiasco being an incident that may or may not have involved a cult trying to sacrifice him. (He was insulted that they were trying to sacrifice him to a low level demon. He was the king of the infinite realms and they were using him to summon Craig? Really? Not that they knew any of this but still. Rude.) Spoiler placed her forearm on Danny’s shoulder to lean, as if he wasn't a few inches taller then her. “Not to mention tonight's kidnapping.” Danny shrugged her off. “And you two saved me,” he started slowly backing away into the alley behind him, “so, danger avoided.” Red Hood's hand shot out and grabbed Danny by the back of his shirt collar, “uh-uh, you're not pulling the disappearing act tonight.” Danny had indeed been intending to disappear and fly home, now he was being scuffed like a kitten. In hindsight he had pulled that move fairly often with Hood. Crossing his legs Danny refused to be set down on his feet so Red Hood dropped him. “Ow!”One peaceful day, was that too much? (Luckly, they didnt follow him into his building and just watched him enter. Unluckily, he had a worried and very annoyed older sister to face.) (“A selfie, Danny?! Really!?” “I wanted to assure you it was really me!”)
Part 7
#batman#batfamily#batfam#danny phantom#dc x dp#dp x dc#danny phantom crossover#dc x dp prompt#dpxdc#dp x dc crossover#danny fenton#danny is just some guy#Nothing much happened in this one but some tiny things
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For My Husband
Requested Here!
Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader (no specific characterization for Jason!)
Summary: Jason has had a lot on his mind, including your relationship. You call him your husband on a night out and suddenly everything makes sense.
Warnings: brief angst, fluff, too many boat analogies? and completely justified grand theft auto
Word Count: 1.5k+ words
Picture from Pinterest/WFA Webtoon (I love him)
It burns like a searing blade carving deep into him, leaving a scar in its eternally marking wake. The ring in Jason’s pocket grows heavier, weighing on him, and burning him like the scars lining his skin. The same scars you kiss and don’t see as marks but as part of the man you love.
As Jason sits across the table across from you, he thinks about an hour ago when you invited him on a date. He argued at first, not ready to go out in public and be asked about Bruce or see something that reminds him of the time before you. But then you smiled and told him where you wanted to go, your favorite place just outside of town that seemed to attract more tourists or people stopping on their way to Blüdhaven or Metropolis, where Jason wasn’t likely to be recognized or hear someone murmur looks like the Wayne kid. So, he agreed, and now his thoughts drift back further.
Two weeks ago, Jason returned home from a mission with the Outlaws. It was hard on him; there were moments when he thought he lost everything, and the only thing that gave him the strength to fight was the image of coming home to you. Once he was home, he talked about what he could and let your comfort carry away the rest like a tide pulling his worries away to make room for you.
Jason Todd has never felt more like himself than he does in your arms and at peace in your words, your comfort. The last few days of being with you have allowed Jason to realize just how perfect you are, how perfect you are for him. And then he remembers how much he doesn’t deserve you, and the ring gets a little heavier like an anchor, making those tides pointless to do little more than rock his once steady ship.
“What are you getting?” you ask, drawing Jason back to the present.
He looks over the top of his menu, and your smile tugs at him. “The pasta looks good,” he answers. “Hey, since you asked me out does that mean you’re paying?”
You lean forward to whisper, “Which one of us has a card attached to Bruce’s bank account?”
Jason tips his head in defeat, not that he would have let you pay anyway. He’s a gentleman through and through, something you know well, and most of the reason you get the idea to order for him. When the waiter approaches, Jason gestures for you to order first, as always, and you smile at the waiter as you request your favorite meal and a side to share with Jason.
Then, you say, “And my husband will have the pasta.”
You look to him for confirmation, but Jason doesn’t reply. He repeats your words in his mind several times, wondering what you could have possibly said that he misheard as husband. When he decides that there are no other words close enough to 'husband' that fit this context, he looks to the waiter, who is smilingly knowingly with his pencil poised over the order pad.
“Did she say husband?” Jason asks him. “Did you hear that?”
“Yes, you lucky man,” the waiter answers. “Was there anything else I could get you?”
Jason shakes his head as you fight a laugh to say, “That’s all, thank you.”
Repeating your words and voice in his head, Jason can’t think about anything else. You watch him, torn between amusement and love, as he gets lost in his thoughts. Jason thinks of your soft gaze, the gentleness and genuine tone in your voice when you called him my husband, and the weight of the ring shifts. It’s not something holding him down, threatening to pull you down with him when you deserve anything but him, but a proposal that he needs to make. It is his anchor, but it’s anchoring him to you. Until he tells you that and asks you to be his wife, you won’t truly understand what you mean to Jason Todd or how you saved him from himself simply by loving him. So, Jason shakes himself out of his reverie and starts an easy conversation with you. But your voice in his mind continues to remind him of how much he means to you.
“I’m sorry if I overstepped before,” you offer. “Calling you husband.”
“I liked it,” Jason admits with a smile.
“Well, that’s good because I like you.”
After splitting a dessert, Jason excuses himself to pay the bill and tip your waiter.
“Are you proposing?” the waiter asks as he passes Jason the receipt. “We get a lot of people who propose in the restaurant. There’s a moment of clarity right before it happens, between the nervous movements and the actual proposal, where you can see everything shift into place and make sense.”
“I’m in that moment?” Jason guesses.
“Have been since you recovered from being called her husband, I think.”
Jason nods and answers, “I am proposing tonight. Can’t wait any longer.”
“Congratulations.”
“She could say no.”
The waiter smiles as he steps back and prepares to tend to another table. “She won’t. She had the look too, the undeniable love and desire to be with you long after this date. So, congratulations.”
“Thanks.”
Jason returns to your table and takes your hand, gentle and kind as he helps you up and walks side-by-side with you. You’ve seen him fight, seen his scars, and know the level of violence he has and can inflict, but there’s something different in how he touches you. How he handles you, not like you’re fragile but like you are precious and treasured. It’s one of many things that you love about Jason.
“We need to make one little stop, is that okay?” Jason asks as he opens the passenger door of a car he borrowed from Bruce’s garage.
“Of course. But if you want to take the scenic route, you can just say so.”
Jason bends forward to buckle your seatbelt for you, and when his face is inches from yours answers, “Then let’s take the scenic route.”
Jason parks the car on a hill before he turns off the engine. You’re on Bruce’s property. You know that because Wayne Manor looms in the distance, a dark shape against the nighttime fog of Gotham. Yet you don’t understand why Jason brought you here, especially when you’re almost sure he didn’t get permission to borrow the car you arrived in.
The door beside you opens, and Jason lowers his hand to help you exit. Here, you can see more stars than anywhere else in Gotham, and your eyes find the sky as Jason’s gaze remains on you.
This hill was once an escape for him, one of the only places he could get far enough away from his family to breathe but be close enough to know where they were. When he returned from the Lazarus Pit and took up the mantle of Red Hood, he spent hours standing on the crest and watching Wayne Manor in the distance, as if it would grow closer or Bruce would throw open the door to welcome him home, broken pieces in tow.
“There’s so many stars,” you murmur. “I thought we’d lost them all to the smog.”
“Not all of them,” Jason answers softly, watching the small lights reflect in your eyes. “I’ve always liked it out here.”
You lower your chin away from the sky and turn to face Jason just as he kneels to be on one knee.
“I came out here a lot as a kid, even when I came back, it was one of the only places that I felt like I could belong. Since then, I’ve found that feeling in you. You’re not just who I think I belong with, though…”
You squeeze Jason’s hand gently and step closer to him, your joined hands against your hip.
“I don’t deserve you,” Jason admits. “You’re too good for me, more than I could ever earn or come close to being worthy of.”
You shake your head, but Jason smiles as he adds, “But you’re everything I want, need – crave – and so much more. The night that we met, I knew that you were special, I knew that I wanted to be your husband. I’d lost the ability to do anything good. I couldn’t even sleep without seeing everything I’d done or thought I would do; I couldn’t dream anymore. And then I found you, and you came to me like you knew there was something in me that I couldn’t see. You are my everything, but all I want to be is yours. Will you marry me?”
Wiping the tears falling down your face with your free hand, you answer, “Yes! Yes, Jason. I am yours.”
Jason stands and pulls you into his arms in one fluid movement. His arms are strong around your waist as he lifts you gently and spins you beneath the stars. You loop your arms over his shoulders and cling to him.
“Thank you,” Jason whispers against your shoulder.
After he sets you down and moves his hands to hold your waist, you spread your hand over his heart and ask, “For what?”
Jason smiles in the starlight and answers, “For being my wife.”
You slide your hands up and hold Jason’s jaw, leaning forward to kiss him as you murmur, “Oh, I could get used to hearing that.”
#jason todd x reader#jason todd x fem!reader#jason todd x you#jason todd x y/n#jason todd imagine#jason todd fluff#jason todd#fem!reader#requests#hanna writes✯#dc comics x reader
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Power Play (Soldier Boy x Reader)
Summary: So, you lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship. It happens all the time. Maybe not quite like this.
Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. Crazy ass 80s Vought debauchery. I might be a little rusty, but it was fun getting back into writing readerfics after two months🖤 Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: Power imbalance, cheating (Soldier Boy’s with Crimson Countess). Mentions of drug use. Soldier Boy is his own warning. Sexually explicit content involving elements of forced intox, semi-public sex, breeding kink.
You were dizzy. With Vought’s investor gala rapidly approaching, you spent the better part of your day camped out in your office, flipping back and forth through your rolodex to call and confirm catering, entertainment—you still couldn’t believe the board of directors actually approved Duran Duran’s booking fee—and transportation, off the top of your head. You already told Stan Edgar you were taking the following week off, which he had no qualms about—so long as the gala went off without a hitch.
You nearly jumped out of your skin when you were interrupted by a knock at your office door, which you’d left open in an effort to be available in the lead up to the event.
“Don’t tell me Edgar’s got you working tonight,” Soldier Boy said, walking in when he saw he had your attention.
“The most important night of the year is less than a week away and I still have a to-do list as long as your dick, so, yeah.”
He huffed out a laugh. “Must be pretty busy then.”
“How about you? Where’s Countess?” you asked.
Soldier Boy probably would have sought you out even if Crimson Countess were around, but from what you’d been hearing through Vought’s extensive grapevine, they were in yet another rough patch. Though, it seemed to you like their relationship was one long, extremely rough patch with some calm once in a blue moon. You weren’t afraid to admit to yourself that you ate up the gossip of their relationship like candy, especially when the other members of Payback—including Countess herself—would rant to Edgar about it. Since your office was right next to his, and most supes had little to no sense of subtlety, you could hear just about everything.
“She’s at one of those wildlife charity things, pandas or some bullshit.” He rolled his eyes. “Bitched at me because I wouldn’t go. She won’t be back until Friday.”
“Soldier Boy, I can’t just—“
“Sure you can. I mean, I’m technically your boss too, aren’t I?” he asked. “So, I say there’s no harm in taking a ten, fifteen minute break. Relieve some stress.”
You sighed. It had been a while since you actually got up from your desk. “Alright. Fifteen minutes, tops.”
He grinned. “Now we’re talking. You keep that minibar stocked?”
“Pick your poison.”
“Whiskey?”
“Sure.”
At least, you were pretty sure. The minibar in your office served as a nice gesture for the variety of people who’d come into your office for meetings related to all of the aspects of event planning you were in charge of. Over the past few weeks, though, you’d been reaching for bottles of whatever you could find to relieve the stress. Powdered your nose every so often, but tried not to make that a habit—not that you blamed your coworkers who did. Working at Vought was brutal and demanding, but hell, who else got to work with superheroes? Especially handsome, smarmy assholes who knew just how to fuck the lingering thoughts of any deadline or event planning out of your mind if you played your cards right.
He handed you a shot glass. “What should we toast to?”
“To taking next week off.”
“Yeah? What’ve you got planned?”
You threw back your shot. “Nothing.”
“That’s no fun. How does a few days in Miami sound?”
You nearly scoffed. Of course he could make something like that happen on such short notice. For forty years running he was America’s superhero and Vought’s cash cow. After a night of schmoozing at the investor gala, he could very well clear out his schedule and fuck off for a week of sun, sand, and sex, too.
“I might need some convincing.”
“Then make yourself comfortable,” he said, walking back to the minibar to pour another shot for each of you. Almost comical, he’d have to drink the whole bottle and then some to feel the same way you did after two shots.
You glanced at the open door. “Someone might see.”
“Are you gonna make me repeat myself?”
Sparing the door one more glance, you worked at unbuttoning your blouse, tossing it aside. You shimmied out of your skirt and let it fall to the floor.
“Heels stay on,” he said, his back to you. “Everything else off. Everything.”
With a hesitant huff, you unhooked your bra and pulled off your panties, throwing them in his direction when he turned around with the shot glasses. You made yourself comfortable on top of your desk, pushing some of your belongings aside to accommodate you.
He whistled lowly as you quickly finished off the second shot he gave you. “Look at you sitting pretty for me.” His green eyes burned a hole through you, though your gaze was fixed on the prominent bulge in his pants. He brought his shot glass to your lips. “Drink up, sweetheart.”
And you did, forcing the alcohol down as your vision blurred with tears at the unrelenting burning in the back of your throat. Felt some whiskey dripping from the corners of your mouth when you drained the shot glass. He collected the excess from your lips with his thumb, sucking it clean as he kept his eyes locked with yours.
“See how much fun we have together?” he asked, leaning over you until you laid back on top of your desk. “Could do that all next week.”
He kissed you, hard and mean like you needed him to. Perfect teeth that caught your bottom lip between them for a moment before releasing. Whiskey on his tongue that went to your head even though you knew he could hardly feel it. Rough hands feeling up your breasts, giving your nipples a harsh tug that made you moan in his mouth.
“You’re soaked,” he said, his voice husky as he rubbed his fingers between your slick folds with tantalizingly slow strokes. “If you wanted it, all you had to do was ask.”
“Fuck,” you whispered.
“What was that?”
You groaned in frustration. “Just fuck me already.”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
His mouth was on yours again, nearly distracting you from the sound of a zipper, the your gut clenching in anticipation as he pulled his cock from his pants.
It’d been a while since you had to brace yourself to take him, but you were wet, and maybe a little more than tipsy, so your body gave little resistance when he slid his cock inside you. Though, if Soldier Boy were anything, it was a guy who took what he wanted anyway, giving you hardly a second to get used to the feeling of how his cock stretched your pussy before he was pounding into you with harsh, unforgiving thrusts that made you grip the edge of your desk.
Sometimes you forgot how strong he was. Hell, so did he, and there was little else you could do but lay there and take what he gave you. In all honesty, it was nice letting someone else take charge after having to hold it together all day. Let him fuck the stress out of you and replace it with all the aches and bruises that came with having sex with the strongest man on earth.
“Harder,” you forced out, pushing that damn rolodex onto the floor.
“I go any harder, I’m gonna break you in half, and I don’t wanna do that until I’ve got you locked away in a hotel room for a week.”
“What are you gonna do to me?”
“Whatever the fuck I want. Not like I don’t already.”
You moaned. “Soldier Boy—”
“I’m not pulling out, so you better be on the pill or say your damn prayers,” he growled, his hot breath kissing your skin. You were on the pill, but nevertheless your hips bucked at his words, pussy clenching around his cock. “Oh shit, you want that, don’t you?”
“Yes—oh my god!” you cried out, muscles cramping as your orgasm pulsed through you, pleasure stealing your breath, choking you gently enough to leave you dizzy. “Yesyesyes—fuck!” Your heart was beating so fast you thought it was going to explode in your chest, especially as he kept mercilessly pounding into you, chasing his own release.
He soon came with a groan, his cock twitching inside you as he bottomed out, practically knocking the wind out of you with a particularly hard thrust.
You felt empty and sticky when he pulled out, and you didn’t want to think about the poor soul who was gonna be cleaning the mess you and him left behind the following morning, because you sure as hell weren’t in any shape to clean up the cum that was leaking out of you and onto the floor.
You put your hands on your chest, trying to catch your breath as he stood over you. The guy hardly broke a sweat, and you felt like you just ran the New York City Marathon. Super stamina. God fucking bless America.
“Hey,” he said, waving his hand in front of your face. “You good?”
“Sure,” you managed to answer. “Except now I don’t know how I’m gonna walk out of here, let alone get home later.”
“The ride up to the 99th is quicker. And if you need more convincing about Miami—“
You pursed your lips, considering the work you still had left to do before you could reasonably call it a night. But you were tired, and admittedly drunk, and Soldier Boy was already hard again. “I might.”
#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy the boys#the boys x reader#the boys#the boys amazon#the boys tv#the boys soldier boy#the boys imagine#soldier boy imagine#soldier boy smut#im a feminist i promise#but do you ever think about how that man could literally break you in half if he wanted to?
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chasing city lights
chapter 16 - did i mean nothing?
synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.
masterlist
cw: language, angst
✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
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the cold night air hit your tear streaked face as sarah, cleo and kie led you out the club.
"hey it's okay, you don't need to stay and watch that bullshit. what a great fucking friend cara is." sarah spoke.
"i didn't like her as soon as i met her" cleo mentioned.
"not right now cleo." kie shushed her. "look, it was all from her side right? rafe wasn't doing anything or initiating anything back so everything is ok i promise." she said, wiping your tears.
"i know you're right" you agreed, "i just can't believe she would do this. i don't understand."
"she's a cunt is what she is." sarah firmly said, earning a small smile from you. "i'm sending her home first thing tomorrow. i'll pay for her flight."
"no sarah stop."
"i'm serious, don't want her anywhere near you or us or him."
"oh fuck." cleo said, panic overtaking her face.
"what?" you mumbled, your heart racing at her distress.
"i am so sorry y/n," cleo whispered.
"cleo." your stomach dropping, "what is it?"
she turned her phone around and your heart dropped at the screen. rafe and cara face to face, lips almost touching. there was no denying the photo.
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"oh my god" your voice fell, tears threatening to fall again.
the girls said nothing, but rubbed your back as you sobbed on the side of the pavement. no words could describe the way you were feeling.
"lets get you home y/n, i'll take you to mine." sarah finally spoke.
after a long, silent taxi ride home, you got out the car and straight into sarah's bed, tears not stopping.
you felt drained, your chest aching. the girls had tried everything to distract you, but you couldn't stop staring at the photo, like staring at it long enough would make it disappear.
but it wouldn't. it was real.
you couldn't process that rafe would do this to you. the boy who had loved you, written songs about you, confessed his deepest issues to you, trusted you. how could he have let this happen? did the last 8 months mean nothing to him?
"okay no more of that." sarah said, taking the phone out of your hands. "do you really think he would do that to you? i mean the photo isn't clear, he could've been talking to her?"
"come on sarah. you saw them together too." you mumbled.
"i just don't get it. he is so in love with you." she replied.
"cleary not." you huffed.
"that's not true and you know it." kie said.
"he told me i was different. that he'd never felt this way before." you spoke as the tears falling again. "i don't know what to do."
"look, we don't know the full story ok? there is nothing we can do." cleo chimed in. "i know it doesn't feel like it right now, but you're going to be okay."
"and i swear to god, when you're ready, we'll make sure they regret this." kie stated.
you swallowed hard. regret. did rafe even feel regret? did cara? or were they still at the club, laughing, dancing, kissing, like none of this even mattered?
your stomach twisted. did you even matter?
sarah must’ve sensed the storm in your head because she gently took your hand, squeezing it. “don’t do that. don’t let them make you feel like you weren’t enough. they weren’t enough for you.”
you let out a bitter laugh, eyes still glossy. “then why does it feel like i’m the one who lost everything?”
kie sighed. “because you’re a good person y/n. and they’re not.”
you wanted to believe that. you really did.
instead, all you could do was lie there, staring at the ceiling, trying to breathe through the pain.
because no matter how much your friends reassured you, one thought haunted you.
rafe had promised forever,
and forever had ended with a single photo.
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✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ ☾. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧
a/n: sorry guys😩 you all knew it was coming
taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes@judesgfirl@4urvalidation @chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover @yesshewrites1 @amterasuu@babykhloutofthisworld@blushmimi @moonywhisp3rs @rafeysworldim19 @marleymarleymarleymarley @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account@vcnillafairy@bambii1i @sammyrenae68 @kittenjujusblog @bambii1i @thesunflowersociety @wtfdudesblog
#smau#obx#outer banks#chasing city lights#rafe cameron#obxsmau#boyfriend rafe#rafe cameron x reader#rafe obx
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(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER THIRTEEN: hit and miss
masterlist
You find yourself enveloped in a haze, unsure of how you arrived in this space or even where "here" truly is. The atmosphere is thick with the intoxicating blend of sweet vanilla, sweat and sex, hinting at a vibrant gathering. The pulsing rhythm of music resonates around you, suggesting a celebration of sorts.
Oh that’s right you were at Aphrodite. How you got here remains unclear as you find yourself within a sea of bodies, still developing some sort of consciousness. The vibrant surroundings crystallize in your mind, each colour and sound sharpening as you strive to regain your bearings.
“... okay?”
You look up, meeting his piercing green eyes and that all-too-familiar smirk.
“I asked if you’re feeling okay!” he shouts, his voice straining against the vibrant pulse of Don Toliver’s music, but his voice gets lost in the crowd.
You nod, still grappling with your hazy awareness, unwilling to disrupt the lively atmosphere that surrounds you.
Sensing your unease, Megumi takes your hand, guiding you away from the dance floor.
“Noooo, Megumi, where are we going?” you protest, but curiosity compels you to follow.
He remains silent, leading you to a quieter space—the bar.
With a smooth motion, he pulls out a barstool for you, his gaze encouraging you to take a seat. You oblige, sinking into the cool leather as the world around you begins to settle.
“Aww, since when did you become such a gentleman, Megumi?” you tease, a playful smile breaking through your earlier haze.
“Oh, shut up,” he replies, rolling his eyes with feigned annoyance. But the warmth in his smile reveals a deeper affection, softening his initial retort.
You rest your cheek on your hand, pondering how it escapes you that he doesn’t have a girlfriend by now. It’s ironic, considering your situation; while you were entangled with different guys almost every night, never once looking back, he seemed to seek something deeper.
With Megumi, it felt different—more significant, more real.
“Last time we were here, you told me you didn’t sleep virgins,” he remarks, and you roll your eyes in response.
“We both know you weren’t a virgin,” you retort, a playful smirk creeping across your lips.
“How’d you know?” he asks, that familiar glint in his green eyes.
“You didn’t fuck like one,” you reply, eliciting a genuine laugh from him. The sound sparks joy in you, and for a moment, everything else fades away. If you could freeze any moment in time, it would be this one.
But then he glances around the bar, his expression shifting. “Where the hell is the bartender? They have one job, for fucks sake. Hold on, baby, I’m going to get us more drinks.”
Before you can respond to the affectionate nickname, he’s off, leaving you with a swirl of warmth and confusion. Baby. Again with the baby. does he relish the fact that it sounds when it falls from his lips with ease? I mean so did you, but it feels like it just slips out more often these days.
A few moments later, a shadow settles into the seat beside you.
“Took you long enough i-“ you stop, frozen at what’s before you. Or more like who’s before you.
You turn, expecting Megumi, but your breath catches in your throat as you freeze at what’s before you. Or more like who’s before you
“Sukuna?”
“We need to talk, doll.”
“Are you fucking following me?” Your irritation sharpens the air between you.
“Do you really think blocking me will free you from me that easily?” He leans in, his fingers grazing your cheek softly. But that touch feels foreign and hollow—nothing like the warmth you’ve experienced with Megumi.
“I thought you would know better than that, doll.”
You quickly swat his hand away, anger igniting within you. “Sukuna, this is the last time I’ll say it: I’m over you.” You enunciate each word, striving to make it clear.
“Yeah, but will you still be over me when you’re reaching out at 2 AM?” He smirks, a self-assured glint in his eyes that only deepens your frustration.
His confidence is so fucking infuriating
“I don’t need you and that weak dick of yours, so leave me the fuck alone.” The words escape your lips with a finality that reverberates in the charged air as you rise from the stool, determined to walk away.
But before you can move, his hand shoots out, grasping your arm and digging into it - halting you from your progress.
“Let go of me, Sukuna before I break your fucking arm,” you warn, your voice calm yet laced with intensity.
You seize his wrist, twisting it with the intent to escape, trying to maneuver your way free. But he holds on, his grip resolute, leaving you grappling with a sense of frustration as you realise that your efforts are in vain.
“Give me a kiss, and I’ll let you go,” he says, smirking up at you.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Sukuna? I’m not kissing your pasty ass lips,” you reply, your voice sharp and full of contempt.
The disdain in your tone mirrors the intensity of your glare, the space between you charged with tension as his audacity hangs in the air. You can feel your pulse quicken, a mixture of anger and disbelief coursing through you as you confront his outrageous demands.
You struggle against his grip, but it only tightens, the pressure escalating as you fight to break free.
His nails start to dig into your arms. Harder and harder. Your eyes start to water, not only from the pain but also the humiliation it’s bringing you.
And you bruise easily. Just fucking great. Another reminder of tonight’s events engraved into your arm.
“What’s happening here?” a commanding voice booms from behind you.
You turn to find Megumi standing there, you’ve never been happier to see him more than now. Your knight in shining armour.
Sukuna glances at him, his expression a mix of disdain and challenge. “None of your business, pretty boy,” he snaps, dismissing Megumi with a condescending glance. “You’d best get lost.”
“Actually, she is my business,” Megumi replies, his tone firm and unwavering as he steps closer, exuding an air of protection.
Sukuna releases your arm at those words, and Megumi steps in, towering over you with an air of authority. His hands settle firmly on your shoulders, a palpable sense of protectiveness radiating from him, enveloping you in a reassuring warmth. You can feel the heat radiating from him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat contrasting with the tension of the moment.
Is a heart supposed to race this fast?
The proximity is electric, leaving you caught between the lingering threat of Sukuna and the comfort of Megumi’s presence.
He watches the two of you with keen interest, and you can almost see the pieces clicking together in his mind as realisation dawns.
“Ohoho, look at you, doll, already found yourself another boyfriend,” he remarks slyly, a smirk playing on his lips.
You feel Megumi's heart race beneath your fingertips, the tension palpable.
“You know,” Sukuna begins, clicking his tongue as if savouring the moment, “I could never fully trust you when we were together. The thought of you with another guy always haunted me.” He chuckles, a mocking tone threading through his words.
But now, Megumi’s heartbeat quickens, the atmosphere thickening with unspoken emotions.
“You were always throwing yourself at the first guy who showed you attention. Now that I think of it, you were such a slu-” Before he could finish, the words were abruptly silenced by the sharp impact of a fist meeting his mouth.
You find yourself pushed aside, an unwilling witness to what can only be described as the beatdown of the century unfolding mere feet away. Under normal circumstances, you might savour the spectacle of your ex finally facing the consequences of his actions, but the shots of vodka you indulged in hours earlier weigh heavily on your senses, leaving you disoriented and queasy.
The chaos engulfs you, the details of the fight slipping away like water through your fingers.
The jarring sounds of glass shattering and fists colliding pierce the air, each impact reverberating in your chest. When you glance down, dread washes over you as you see blood staining your skirt - a visceral reminder of the violence erupting around you.
You feel immobilised a sense of disbelief locking you in place as the intensity of as the scene unfolds before you. It isn’t until one of the indifferent bartenders vaults over the counter to intervene that clarity begins to seep back in.
You glance at Megumi, whose face is now smeared with blood - you can’t tell if it’s his or Sukuna's. Suddenly, your instincts kick in, propelling you into action as the gravity of the situation sinks in.
“Megumi, oh my god,” you gasp, your hands instinctively moving to cradle his face, fingers trembling as you make contact. He flinches slightly at your touch, the pain etched in his expression.
“We need to get out of here,” you insist, urgency lacing your voice.
Taking charge, you grasp his hand and lead him through the chaos, your determination unwavering. Spotting an Uber, you don’t hesitate.
“Change the address,” you command the driver, your tone leaving no room for argument.
The car ride stretches on, filled with your anxious inquiries of “Where does it hurt?” punctuated by his resolute refusals of “No, I don’t need to go to the hospital.”
Each response intensifies your concern, yet you remain focused, channelling all your energy into ensuring his safety, aware that the night has already spiralled too far out of control.
—
You find yourselves in your bathroom, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension as you meticulously stitches the cut on his forehead. He perches on the edge of the makeup-stained sink, watching you intently as you focus on the gash near his temple, your lips pursed to one side in concentration.
“It might scar,” you say, glancing up momentarily, a hint of concern in your voice.
“Or it might look hot, who knows?” he replies, a teasing light in his eyes that briefly cuts through the seriousness of the moment.
You shake her head, a faint smile playing at the corners of your mouth as you continue to clean the blood from his face. “You didn’t have to do that, Megumi.”
“I’m not going to let you take some random’s shit,” he replies firmly, the conviction in his tone unwavering.
“You shouldn’t have to go through that,” you countered softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek with the cloth, the intimacy of the gesture sending a jolt of connection between them.
“He wasn’t just some random,” you begin, your voice dropping to a near whisper. “He’s my ex.”
Megumi’s eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his face.
“It’s a long story,” you continue, drawing a deep breath to steady yourself. “The short version is that we dated for two years - on and off. We weren’t good for each other; hell, we were toxic. Eventually, I realised being codependent was not hot girl shit, so I walked away.”
“Looks like he’s back in town.”
He observes you, his expression turning serious, the weight of your revelation settling heavily between them.
“I’m sorry,” is all he manages, the gravity of her past hanging in the air, leaving an undeniable tension that neither of them can ignore.
“Yeah, it is what it is. I hate him, though,” you confess, your voice wavering as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The weight of your emotions is palpable, revealing a deeper turmoil beneath your words.
“All finished!” you proclaim, forcing a bright smile as you quickly turn away, hastily wiping your eyes before he can notice your vulnerability.
The abrupt shift feels almost jarring as if you’re desperately trying to mask the storm brewing within you, the facade of strength clashing with the rawness of your feelings. In that fleeting moment, the contrast between your bravado and heartache hangs heavily in the air.
He turns her around slowly, his fingertips grazing her arm with a delicate touch. “Your arm…” he murmurs, concern deepening in his voice as the bruising intensifies with each passing minute.
You brush his hand away, deflecting both his touch and his worries. “I’m fine, Megumi. Really, don’t worry about me.”
“Yn.” His grip tightens around your hand, his gaze piercing into yours. In that moment, you feel an unexpected pang in your heart—a warmth unfurling within your chest. This sensation is new; it’s different. With Sukuna, such feelings never stirred in you.
Your eyes lock, a glimmer of hope shimmering in yours, while his expression softens with a simmer of affection. “Please, Yn, let me help you,” he implores, brushing his thumb tenderly across your palm.
You smile, not merely in response to his actions but because of his words. For the first time, someone sees beyond your body, caring for you in a way that transcends physical wounds. In this moment, you grasp the essence of love - authentic and profound.
And that feeling? It’s with Megumi.
extras!
• yasss aphrodite mention again😍 sorry for the mess that omi has to clean up ree…
• got confirmed that aphrodite DOES play don toliver thank yew
• if ur wondering where the others where just imagine the famous met gala bathroom pic but exclude megumi and yn (probably smoking weed or something idk)
• tbh guys i honestly don’t know who would have won that fight i’ll leave it up to you guys to decide…
• uber driver thought he was getting robbed..
• he was TOO tired to deal with their shit
• trust the bathroom scene was INTIMATE it was like 3am…
• megumi slept over and the others took pictures of ynmegumi when they got home and sent it to the groupchat LOL
a/n: this one is late bc i was up watching princess and the frog with my niece again😭 but let’s be real when am i EVER on time posting… also officially got the ick by sukuna im this one i don’t know how im going to defend him… but i hope u guys enjoyed this chap :3
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#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk crack#jjk x reader#jjk smau#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk!smau#jjk fanfic#jjk texts#jjk twitter#jjk tweets#megumi smau#megumi x y/n#megumi fluff#megumi x you#jjk megumi#jujutsu megumi#megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen megumi#megumi fushiguro#jjk fushiguro#fushiguro x reader#jujutsu kaisen fushiguro#fushiguro x you
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obsessed with your ex || Worst!Logan Howlett smut
summary: In his world you were his wife and he loved you and then you died. In this world you're his girlfriend and he loves you. At least you think he does. Still you can't help the voice in the back of your head telling you that you're nothing but a sad replacement.
warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI!! 18+ ONLY. insecure + jealous!reader, a very very toxic mindset, the reader's mind is very mean to her, reader is a mutant that can make objects disappear, angst, happy ending, rough sex, riding, french kissing, oral (f!receiving), a slight breakdown, soft sex, missionary, Logan is kinda a softie, cockwarming, fingering.
wc: 2.5k
a/n: Okay so it's here!! I need to make this clear that the readers mindset is NOT healthy and that relationships need good communication. That being said here's my fic idea that I've been thinking about for a bit. I love Olivia Rodrigo sm (I even saw her in concert!!) and this song was just begging to be written into a fic. Anyways I really hope you like it and that it's not too insane lmao. Also i made the graphic but i kinda hate it but i dont wanna change it so here we are I know it's ugly but its FINE
How long have you been here? Staring. Observing every little thing about you. Your nose, your eyes, your lips, your hair, your chin. The way your arms fall by your sides. Every. Little. Detail.
Did she have the same colored eyes? Did she talk like you? Was she smart? Was she powerful? Did he look at her the same way? Did he fuck her like he fucks you?
You clench your fists as you stare angrily at the mirror. He loves you. He says he loves you and yet it feels like you can never compare to her. She was the love of his life. She was an X-Men. She died. She was you. You're his dead fucking wife in his universe while you were nothing to the Logan in this one.
He looked at you like a kicked puppy that first day you met. A lost little pet that had been searching for its owner. Dragged through hell and back just to get to you. It was easy to fall for him. Handsome, a little rough around the edges. You hadn’t even been dating for that long but it didn’t matter right? He worshiped you. He loved you. He promised he loved you.
But sometimes in the back of your head you wonder if when he's kissing you, does he imagine her? Does he close his eyes while he's pounding into you and imagine it's her? How could you ever compete? She was perfect, she was kind, she was everything to him. Spiraling deeper and deeper into a whirlpool of doubt and envy. There's a heavy pounding on the door but you choose to ignore it. Too wrapped up in your twisted mind to care.
"Sweetheart, let me in." Logan's gruff voice was slightly muffled by the door.
You clench your jaw as you finally tear your eyes away from the mirror. You slam open the door taking Logan by surprise. His eyes scan yours for injury, a worried look in his face as he steps into the bathroom.
"I got worried, you were in here a long time." His arms wrap around your waist.
He's looking at you with pity. At least that's what your brain tells you. Was he worried that you were hurt because he loves you or because he was thinking of her death again? You know he still dreams of her. He can hide it when he's awake but the nightmares don't lie. It hurts so bad. Love me. Love me. You're jealous you know. She's dead, she's gone. So why can't he love you. You push him off and storm out the bathroom. Nothing makes sense anymore in your head.
"What the fuck?" Logan follows you and you feel yourself tensing up.
It's a miracle your powers haven't started to go haywire yet. So many different emotions swirl around in your head until it mixes together to form one single feeling.
Need.
You grab Logan's shirt and pull him into you. Smashing your lips onto his with a hunger that you've never felt before. Logan hisses as you bite his bottom lip harshly but you don't give him time to say anything as you slip your tongue into his mouth. He groans as he starts to take some control back. Hands slipping up your shirt and ripping to shreds with ease.
You pull back from his lips, chest heaving for air as you paw at his shirt. Silently demanding he take it off which he happily does. Your lips are back onto his in an instant. He slowly walks you back until you fall onto the bed. You fall onto the bed and lick your lips. The bugle in his pants is evident as you flick your hand and the belt disappears.
"I liked that belt." You pay no mind to his comment as you unbutton his jeans and pull them down, leaving him in his boxers.
"Easy there sweetheart," Logan pushes you back gently and crawls on top of you. Logan kisses down your chest, teasing each nipple with his tongue.
"Let me take my time." He purrs.
His hands touch and squeeze your breasts roughly making you whine. You watch his arms move, god he's so hot. He's close to making you forget. He kisses down, down, all the way down. He sneaks out the tip of his claws to pop open the button of your pants and he yanks them down until they're all the way off.
"There she is, my perfect girl." His girl. That's right your his girl. No one else's.
Logan pulls your panties to the side as he situates himself between your legs. He stuffs his face without shame, licking hungrily and practically moaning at the taste. You arch your back as Logan devours you. Watching his back muscles move are mesmerizing. He's yours. He loves you. He promises he does.
You can't stop the thoughts that begin to invade you. Overwhelmed by pleasure from Logan and pain from the horrible ideas that pop into your head. Did he do this with her too? Did he worship her? Do you taste like her? Is that why he can't get enough?
"Fuck!" You hiss as you sit up and tell Logan to stop. He does immediately, wondering what the hell is going on.
"Can't fucking wait." You scratch down his chest with your nails. He groans and tries to crawl on top of you but you shake your head.
"I'm going to ride you until you can't come anymore." You growl.
You bite his shoulder harshly making him hiss. It heals right up much to your dismay. How badly you wish you could mark him. You make his boxers disappear but before he can make a smart comment you sink down on him all the way. You whimper as you start to bounce on his cock. Loving how much he fills you.
You need to be fucked stupid. You're desperate for Logan to fuck every bad thought out of your head. To promise that he loves you so that you can believe him. You want to believe him. Please, you have to believe him.
"Sweetheart." Logan's breath is labored as you relentlessly fuck yourself on his cock. You feel so damn good but fuck he can tell something is on your mind.
"What do you need, let me help you." He sits up on his hands, placing one on your back as he tries to get you to slow down. His words make you want to scream. What do you need? You look at him and the only thing your rotten brain can tell you is that he is thinking of her.
"I need you to fucking love me!" You yell.
The dam of built up feelings breaks down as tears pour out of your eyes. Ugly, horrible sobs that make your body shake. Logan watches with horror in his eyes as he stills your hips, using his strength to lift you off of him as you continue to cry.
"I do love you." He says softly but you shake your head.
"No!" You shout. You pound your fist against Logan's chest over and over again but he barely moves.
"You love her! I know you do." Logan's heart breaks at the sound of your sobs.
"I'm not your dead fucking wife Logan!" You should regret the words coming out of your mouth but you can't stop them.
"You look at me and you see her. Like I'm just some fucking placeholder!" You let out an anguished scream as Logan captures your wrists in his hands. You know the stories. She was a hero, she was perfect in every single way.
"How can I compete with, with her?" You say completely defeated.
Your head falls against his chest. There's a sense of relief that washes over you. Thoughts that have plagued you for months are finally out in the open. Yet the fear of what comes next overtakes any other feeling.
"Look at me." Logan tilts your head up but you push his hand away.
"Sweetheart." He sighs and lets go of your face.
Logan's never been good at this. Talking. Being vulnerable. Then he lost everything and he hardened even more and he just. This was a new chance at life and even though it's hard he can't lose it all again.
"I know you're not her. Of course I do." Logan presses his forehead against yours, trying to get you to look at him.
"You loved her..." You croak out.
"I did love her. She was my wife. But I love you too. In a different way." He's a different man. Having gone through tremendous loss. It shaped him into who he is now.
"You're different people. Your powers act differently, you talk differently, you feel different. You are not a replacement." He says firmly.
When you finally look at him he feels this horrible pit in his stomach. He wipes away your tears but doesn't make any other move. It's not the right time.
"Would you have even given me a second thought? If I didn't look like her?" You ask, that question has haunted you for a while now but you never asked, too afraid of the answer. Logan is silent, unsure of how to answer.
"When I first saw you it was like a punch in the face." He starts. "For a moment I was 20 years in the past. Then I snapped out of it. You look like her, yes but you’re not her.” He gently traces a small scar on your jaw that you got when you were a child.
“I’m not the same as your Logan right? He was a leader, a hero and I was an angry drunk murderer.”
“I’m not gonna start listing all your fucking differences sweetheart, but I swear on my life that I love you for you.” He pulls you into a tight hug as you start to cry again. You cling onto him as tight as you can. The bad thoughts don’t just stop, even if you want them to but Logans whispering sweet words in your ear. Pushing out every bad thought for now.
“Logan,” You take a deep breath, letting Logan invade all your senses. Tobacco and whiskey.
“I need you.” He’s hesitant, not sure if it’s the right time.
“Please, I just need you.”
“Okay sweetheart, you have me.” He slowly rolls you over and lays you on your back.
He captures your lips into a kiss. His hips rolling slowly making you moan softly. His lips drift from your lips to the corner of your mouth to your cheek, trailing down. Each one so gentle, so full of love.
“You have this spot, righttt here.��� Logan nibbles on your neck and you gasp when bites right at this spot that drives you wild. You melt into the mattress as he kisses over it.
“Always makes you relax.” He crawls lower, kissing down your body. He sits up on his knees and grabs a pillow to place under your back.
“I know you like to be slightly elevated because it means I can go just a little deeper.” He purrs as he takes his cock in his hands and gently rubs the tip of it along your folds. He slides two fingers into your cunt slowly.
“Know that my fingers drive you absolutely wild, that you need me to go slow to start.” You nod absentmindedly.
You never realized he picked up on all these things. His fingers start to slide in smoother, your cunt getting wetter for him. He leans down and takes a deep breath, groaning at the scent. He slips them out and licks them clean.
“Relax sweetheart,” He spreads your thighs and slips in all the way. Going slow but unrelenting, stretching you just how you like.
“So impatient, you never let me take it easy on you right? Just wanna be full all the time.” He leans down on his elbows as he rolls his hips nice and slow.
There will be no rough sex this time, this is about love. To show you that he truly does love you for you.
“Look at me,” He tilts your head so that your eyes meet. He smiles at the desperate look on your face.
“You can pretend it makes you all embarrassed, but I know you like eye contact.” He hums as he angles his hips so that he hits that perfect spot.
You jolt as pleasure rocks through your whole body but he keeps you under him. He’s slowly and methodically tearing you apart. Every touch, every word out of his mouth just makes it better. He knows. Of course he does.
“I love you Logan.” Your hands cup his face as you stare into his hazel eyes.
This time not filled with lust, but with a true deep love. He looks at you like you’re everything.
“I love you too.” He kisses you as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts. He smirks as he feels you start to squirm under him. You could never help it when you were close.
“Come on sweetheart, just let go.” He whispers in your ear.
His deep voice paired with the unrelenting feeling of his cock is all it takes. He holds you in his firm arms as a warm and wonderful tingling sensation runs through your whole body. A blissful smile on your face as you tilt your head back.
You feel your whole body relax as your mind calms. Logan tries to hide his growls as he fucks into you a little faster, until he’s coming hard and deep inside of you. He sighs in contentment as he stays inside of you. He taps your cheek lightly and you look up at him.
“I love you. No one else. Just you.” He moves to pull out but you whine. You need to be close to him right now. He chuckles as he slowly moves to your side. Spooning you tightly with his cock still deep inside of you.
“Can we talk?” You ask shyly.
“About what?” Logan grunts as he pulls you as close as he can get you.
“Anything?” He’s not much of a talker so he asks the questions instead.
How did you discover your powers? How did you meet wade? Just anything and everything and you tell him.
You talk for who knows how long. Staying wrapped in each other's arms. It helps, it really does. Logan listens, he really does listen. He wants to get to know you. He loves you. You rest your head on his chest, tracing shapes into his palm as you talk.
For the first time in a while your mind seems to settle. Ignoring any thought that may try and ruin your mood. It’s just you and him right now. There’s no looming figure of your alternate selves, not anymore.
Just you and Logan. Forever.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett smut#logan howlett x you#wolverine x reader#wolverine smut#worst!logan howlett x reader#worst!logan howlett smut
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Established Steddie, they have been living together for over a decade, did their best to heal their wounds from the Upside Down and learn to enjoy life again. It's not easy but they do it.
When the Lord of the Rings movies come out, it's actually Steve who suggests watching them to Eddie. He really tries engaging with Eddie's passions, but his focus is not the greatest when it comes to books. That doesn't mean he doesn't listen to Eddie ramble about them though - he knows all about hobbits, second breakfasts, the culture of smoking in the Shire...Eddie admires a lot of characters from the books, but ever since experiencing the Upside Down fuckery, he actually admits that the hobbits had a point. Good food, even better company and good tobacco? What else does one need? It also inspires Steve a few years later to prepare a full day of hobbit-inspired meals for their trilogy marathon when the extended editions come out. But this is about their first time watching the movies.
They both go to the movie theater excited. Steve is familiar with most of the characters, including Eddie's self-admitted crush on Aragorn. And Steve can see why, he can see so much good in all the members of the fellowship. After the first movie, he's wiping his eyes because Boromir deserved better. Eddie has a lot to say about what was lost in adaptation, but Steve knows Eddie loves those movies and would cut off his only remaining nipple before missing the next ones.
The Two Towers have Steve rooting for the ents and he feels strangely touched about how everyone underestimates Pippin, yet it's him who gets the ents to march. He really can't pick a favorite character. He can't wait for the third movie.
They go to the premiere of the Return of the King with Eddie. They secretly hold hands in the last row, and Steve watches the ride of the Rohirrim with bated breath. He clenches his hand in Eddie's when Theoden gets gravely injured, but then Éowyn is there and...oh.
He is staring slack-jawed at the scene. Éowyn's large, terrified eyes, the towering frame of the Witch King. Her posture was fearful, crouched, but still she faced him. And something surfaces in his head, something he's long forgotten.
He's unusually queit when they come back home, he still loves the rest of the movie, almost cries at "my friends, you bow to no one,", then definitely cries at Frodo leaving the Middle Earth. But there is still that something and Eddie can sense it. When they're falling asleep together, Eddie finally asks him. And Steve's had enough time to process what he felt.
"When Éowyn faced the Witch King...it reminded me of what it felt like. I mean, for the first time. I know it's stupid because saw so much unnatural shit, but...it's the first time that I have hard time forgetting," he admits quietly. "She reminded me of me in 1983 so much. I had no clue what I was getting myself into. I thought I'd do the right thing, but then I had a gun pointed at me, they both had blood on their hands...and then it appeared."
Eddie doesn't speak, he only holds Steve closer.
"It was so tall. I remember that petal-like mouth, those teeth, but mostly...I remember the crippling fear. I felt absolutely terrified. I couldn't move. There was even a moment when I thought of running away, but...I couldn't leave them there. Seeing someone go through something similar and being praised for being a hero...it makes me think. I used to be so ashamed for freezing in that moment. For even considering running away. But Éowyn...she was like me." There's awe in his voice and warmth, relief. "She had no idea what she was getting into. She froze. She didn't do everything perfectly and gracefully like Legolas or something, but when it mattered...she did what she had to."
He holds Eddie tighter and asks, almost shyly: "Will it offend you that I think she's my favorite character? Not Aragorn or Sam?"
Eddie just shakes his head and drops a kiss to Steve's hair. "Nah. She suits you well. And you're both amazing."
And if it becomes a silly endearment in their household, that Steve is sometimes called the Shieldmaiden of Hawkins? ("I'm not a maiden, Eddie!" "I'm not calling you a shieldboy or shieldbachelor, Steve!") Then Steve feels a hint of something that he thought he'd renounced, but now, for the first time he feels it's deserved - pride.
#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#steddie#steddie drabble#lord of the rings steddie#not proofread I'm sleep deprived af
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ok I've seen arguably too many "Steve takes your virginity" fics but not enough "you take Steve's virginity". maybe you could do it where the reader has seen him and a girl go into a bedroom at parties and stuff but he reveals that they don't do anything besides make out and/or talk because he didn't feel truly connected to anyone, but he does with the reader, and you're his first. doesn't have to be exactly that but I'd love to see something like this
ぺ word count ⋰ 1.5k
✰ tw ⋰ none :)
❍ cw ⋰ swearing, sex, hints of oral
✐ masterlist
⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★⋆★
Getting asked out by Steve Harrington wasn't something you'd have ever anticipated happening, much less sitting in his passenger seat looking at the stars. But, much to your surprise, he was excellent company.
He made you laugh harder than you'd laughed in a long time, sometimes not even meaning to.
But after a brief moment of comfortable silence, you decided to change the subject.
"So... Betty Thompson, huh?"
"What about her?"
"What do you mean 'what about her'? I saw you guys the other night at Jackson's party."
"What did you see, exactly?"
"I saw her pull you into one of the bedrooms and shut the door."
"Oh, yeah."
"She's really nice."
"Yeah. We didn't... do anything, though."
Your brows dipped in confusion. "What? Nothing?"
"No."
"Why not?"
He shrugged. "I wasn't really feeling it. She's sweet and everything. We just didn't... click. Sexually. Plus she was drunk and... you know, I didn't want to take advantage of that."
"Mm. So what girls have you clicked with? Sexually." You threw in that last part sarcastically.
He shook his head. "None of 'em."
At this point you felt like he was messing with you.
"Not a single one?"
"Nope. I mean, we've gotten along in every other way. Just not that way."
"So... are you-"
"A virgin?" You nodded. "Yeah." You could tell he was hesitating. His whole brand was being a lady's man, able to charm any girl in Hawkins. So admitting this clearly made him uncomfortable.
"You've never done anything?"
"I didn't say that," he joked. "I've just never gone all the way."
"So... oral is where you've stopped."
"Yeah. It's kind of embarrassing," he chuckled.
"No, not at all," you reassured. "It's actually kind of sweet."
"Sweet?"
"Mhm. I mean, come on. You're kind of known for being a bit of a womanizer. It's nice knowing you're not taking advantage of us."
"I guess so."
"Do you want to lose it? Your virginity, I mean."
He shrugged. "At some point, yeah, obviously. But I don't want it to be a fling. I want it to mean something."
"Yeah." There were a few seconds of silence. "If you had to pick who you lost it to... Who'd you choose?"
He looked down at his lap and that's when you noticed he'd been fidgeting with his fingers. You could see the wheels turning in his head. He let out a small chuckle.
"I... don't want to answer that."
"Oh, come on. I'm not gonna judge."
"I know, I know."
"So who?" You sounded a bit more excited than you were. He looked at you. "Who?"
"You," he choked out. This caught you off guard and when he sensed that, he cleared his throat.
"What, seriously? Me?" He nodded. "Why?"
"I've had a crush on you for a while. As dumb as it sounds I always... pictured my first time being with you."
You took in his words and processed what he was saying. Steve Harrington - The Steve Harrington - had pictured losing his virginity to you. And thinking about it, you wouldn't mind.
"Well... maybe... we could make your fantasy come true."
"I mean, I don't really know if I'd call it a fant-"
You leaned over and kissed him, admittedly harder than you'd meant to. His hand instantly shot up to your cheek and kept you in place. You kissed for a moment before you pulled yourself over to his side, straddling his lap.
His hands rested on your thighs, almost nervous to put them anywhere else. But before you knew it, they were sliding up your back, his fingers finding their way beneath your shirt.
When you leaned back a bit you accidentally honked the car's horn and both of you jumped, giggling when you broke apart.
"Maybe we should move this to the back of the car?" you whispered.
You both looked back at the rear part of the car, seeing clutter and a full trunk.
"My parents aren't home if you're comfortable coming to my house. Sorry, there's not much room back there."
You grinned. "Perfect."
The second you were in his room, you were on your back in his bed with his lips latched onto your neck.
"Steve," you whispered.
"Yeah?"
"Go slow. It's your first time, no need to rush." You could tell he was excited, his hands trembling slightly. You reached down and pulled your shirt over your head, struggling a bit where you were laying down.
You also sat up slightly to unhook your bra while he unbuttoned your jeans and wiggled them down your legs. Once they were off, you grabbed him by his shoulders and rolled him onto his back, your legs straddling his hips.
"You don't have to-"
"Shush," you interrupted. "It's your first time. Let me take the reigns."
He nodded, his cheeks pinkening a bit. You scooted down a bit, undoing his pants and pulling them down a bit, enough for all of him to spring out.
He closed his eyes tight and threw his head back a bit, and you could tell he was nervous. To make him more comfortable, you pulled his jeans down his legs and eventually threw them on the floor on top of yours.
His entire body was tense, like he was unable to relax. You picked up on this immediately and leaned down to put your faces closer together.
"Steve?"
"Mhm?"
"Open your eyes, look at me." He complied, his pupils massive. "Do you want to stop?"
"What?"
"You seem really nervous. Do you want to stop?"
"No. I want to do this."
You'd never seen him like this. You didn't even know he could be like this. All of his confidence had melted away seemingly instantly after you got on top of him.
You ran your fingers through his hair, pushing it off his forehead.
"If you do, say something."
"Trust me, I don't."
You leaned back and wrapped your hands around him, feeling his body soften and relax.
"That okay?"
"Oh, yeah. That's good."
"Good."
He reached over and opened his nightstand drawer, pulling out a condom.
"You're prepared," you joked, taking it out of his hands. He didn't respond, instead scanning your body with his eyes. Seeing you on top of him, so naked and vulnerable made butterflies stir in his stomach. Suddenly, he was worried he wouldn't be able to please you. But he knew you wouldn't judge him. It was his first time, after all.
The feeling of you sliding a condom onto him made a soft moan tumble from his lips, and you couldn't hold back the smirk that formed on your face.
"Are you ready?" you asked softly.
"Absolutely."
Slowly, you sunk down onto him and couldn't resist the moan that escaped you. His fingers pressed into your thighs, swearing he could bust right then and there.
"Shit," you whispered, your hands on his belly. "You feel really good."
"Yeah?"
"Mhm."
"Good."
"Do I feel okay?"
"Are you serious?" he chuckled.
With that, you lifted yourself before lowering down, only causing his fingers to grip you tighter. He moved his hands a moment later to your hips, almost guiding you along. Your movements were bounces mixed with grinds, something that was a bit difficult but felt amazing. For both of you.
It didn't take long before he sat up, pulling your lips to his with one hand, the other wrapping around your back and holding your body against his.
"I'm not gonna last much longer," he whimpered into your mouth.
"It's okay. Cum whenever you need to."
His mouth latched onto your neck and chest, and by how rough his kisses were getting, you could tell he was getting close fast.
"Fuck, Y/N." Him moaning your name was - as you were finding out - a huge turn on for you. That desperate tone of voice he had, it could've made you soaking wet on its own. You'd never heard him talk like that and it was hot. So fucking hot.
You reached down and began rubbing your clit, making your hips buck a bit. Your head was thrown back slightly as you bounced, giving him ample opportunity to pepper your skin with hickeys.
But the only thing he could do was rest his forehead against your chest, his eyes screwed shut tightly and his mouth agape.
He wanted to last longer so badly, but holding back was not an easy task. He was beginning to sweat and his moans were becoming more guttural, his fingertips sure to leave marks on your skin.
"Steve, I think I'm gonna cum."
"Me too," he strained.
He held you tightly as he exploded into the condom and your movements become sloppy, both of you moaning way louder than you intended to.
Once you stopped and you were both reeling from your orgasms, he rested his cheek against your chest. You breathed in tandem, trying to catch your breath.
"Shit," you whispered. You pulled his face off of you and leaned your head down to kiss him. His hands settled on your hips and you noticed he was trembling. When he opened his eyes, you could see how watery they were. "Are you okay?"
"I don't think I've ever been better," he grinned.
"You sure? You're shaking."
He shook his head. "I'm great." A cheesy grin spread across his face and you felt reassured.
#fanfic#fanfiction#smut#imagine#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fanfiction#steve harrington smut#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x reader fanfic#steve harrington x reader fanfiction#steve harrington x reader imagine#steve harrington x reader smut#stranger things#stranger things fanfic#stranger things fanfiction#stranger things smut
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I had the idea late at night so idk if you don’t want to write that, i understand haha
Reader and azriel are mates and have been for a while, nesta and elain were made and feyre and rhys asked cassian and azriel to look after them. Reader was okay with it but elain showed her a different side then the others, where she is rude and is telling her az will be hers, reader tried to bring it up in private but no one believed her because elain is so nice in front of everyone. Elain starts to sit in readers place and stands next to az, so reader isn’t even going out anymore. Az has a lot of other missions as well and tells reader that he only loves her and elain means nothing to him, maybe elain overheard that. After a mission az gives rhys his reports and then fell asleep on the couch, elain lays down next to him but he is so out that he doesn’t even feel her, reader wants to see after az and sees that, when she is trying to leave, rhys finds her and she shows him everything that happened even the parts where elain was rude, reader then leaves for awhile to get away from everything and azriel just loses it. You could add more angst if you want but i would love for a happy end with az and reader maybe where is is also pregnant?
The Other Woman: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: Angst, Spiraling thoughts
***
Elain Archeron was quickly becoming the bane of your existence.
You understood the she had gone through incomprehensible trauma along with her sister, and you understood why Rhys would appoint Azriel and Cassian to help them. You had no issue allowing your mate to help the poor girl come back to life, accepting her new fate. No, that was not the problem.
The problem was that she was a nasty, two-faced, bitch.
The first time it happened you were completely taken aback, shocked by the words that had come from the otherwise soft-spoken female.
“He’s going to be mine, you know.”
You had stilled your movements, turning slowly to see her peeking out from the library doors. “Excuse me?” You asked, certain you had misunderstood.
She gave a sneering smile. “Azriel. I’m going to make him mine.”
You couldn’t help the laugh that had burst from you. “Okay then,” you said, moving to continue walking. You made a note to bring it up to your mate later, warn him that Elain may have gotten too attached.
Unfortunately the following days had been hectic, Azriel was sent on a dangerous mission for Rhys. You hadn’t gotten a chance to speak to him, and with the state he came back in you had no interest in adding anything else to his plate.
It happened again a few days later.
“Why would he stay with you when i’m here?” She asked, looking you up and down.
You raised an eyebrow at her. “I’m sorry? What are you on about?”
She rolled her eyes. “Azriel, obviously. Why would he need you any longer? I’m certain I can satisfy him miles better than you can.”
“Mhm,” you mused, nodding at her wild claims. “Do you understand the mating bond?”
She made a noise of annoyance, crossing her arms in front of her. “I have a mate, and I can’t stand him. That ‘bond’ means nothing to me.”
“It means something to Az,” you said, staring her down. “What has he done that makes you think he’s interested?”
She gave a pretty smile, smoothing the skirts of her dress. “Feyre has Rhys, Nesta has Cassian. It only makes sense, does it not? Three sisters, three brothers. He’s smart enough to have already figured it out. The only thing standing in our way is you.”
You hummed at her delusions, turning to leave the room. “Have a nice night, Elain,” you said, acting as if she had just been talking about the weather. You refused to give her the satisfaction of upsetting you.
Some nights later you were sitting with Azriel as he caught up with his brothers, lost in thought while you sipped your wine. You heard a faint call of your name, turning to meet the concerned eyes of your husband. “Are you alright, my love?” He asked, scanning you over for anything amiss.
You smiled, shaking your head. “I’m fine, just thinking.”
“You’re thinking pretty hard there. Az was calling your name for ages,” Cassian laughed, but his eyes showed the same concern. You sighed, taking a bigger drink of your wine.
“I’ve just been dealing with something, that’s all,” you said, swirling the liquid in your glass nonchalantly. Azriel watched you closely, trying to read what was wrong.
“You can always tell us,” Rhys offered, tipping his glass your way.
You took a deep breath, looking down at your hands. “Have any of you ever had any issues with Elain?”
Three blank stares met yours.
“I’ll take that as a no, then,” you muttered into your wine.
“What kind of problems?” Azriel pressed, worry in his expression.
“She’s just been, a little….rude to me.”
Silence.
And then loud laughter.
“Elain?” Cassian gasped out, pounding on the table. “Quiet, docile, Elain? Are you sure you aren’t confusing her with Nesta?” You shot him a nasty look, Rhys’ own chuckle drawing your attention to him.
“How has she been rude?” He asked, not hiding the smile on his face.
You looked down at the ground, embarrassment coloring your cheeks. “Maybe i’m just reading into it. I thought she was jealous…that she was into Az.” You regretted even bringing the topic up as Cassian and Rhys broke out in more laughter.
“No way! Elain has a mate, remember? Why would she go after a married male?” You nodded at Cassian, acknowledging his words.
“Yea, i’m sure i’m just misunderstanding,” you mumbled, draining your glass in an instant. You stood, heading for the door.
“Aw now, we didn’t mean anything bad! It’s just such a shock that Elain would be trying to get Az!” Rhys called out behind you, trying to convince you to stay.
You looked back, eyes connecting with Azriel’s. “I’ll be up shortly,” he said, his unspoken words hanging in the air. He was not going to let his brothers get away with laughing at you. You gave him a small smile and continued out to your room, leaving him to deal with them.
***
Elain only grew worse after that. She started openly flirting with Azriel, laughing at anything he said and placing her hand playfully on his arm. He always pulled away from her, moving to stand by your side as a silent “Stop”.
She didn’t care.
Azriel spent the nights trying to convince you that Elain didn’t matter to him, that you were the only one for him. You wanted to believe him, needed to believe him, but the comments she made when no one else could hear were getting to you.
“You’re too ugly for him.”
“Don’t you think he would want someone younger? Are you even able to give him children at your ancient age?”
“I know he wants me. He looks at me when you aren’t paying attention.”
“You’re pathetic, you know. He deserves better. He deserves someone who can stand proudly at his side.”
Her words swam around your head, eating away at you. You were sinking down into yourself, drowning in self-doubt. What if she was right? What if Azriel really did deserve better?
You began spending more time locked away in your room, an attempt to avoid Elain’s nasty comments. You had no desire to see her throw herself at Azriel, and you didn’t think you could handle much more of her taunting. A rational part of you knew that this was ridiculous, your husband would never give her a second look. Another part of you was embarrassed that this young girl was so good at getting into your head, that she had rendered you a shell of yourself. The largest part of you, unfortunately, bought in to all she said and hid away in shame.
Azriel was getting progressively more worried about you.
“My love,” he murmured, stroking his hand through your hair as he held you close. “I have half a mind to tell Rhys to send her somewhere else. Why does she trouble you so?” He couldn’t understand how Elain had torn down his perfect wife, leaving this ghost in her place.
You buried your face farther into his chest, wishing you could just disappear. “I don’t want to cause any trouble.”
He sighed and held you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “You are the stars in the sky, the warmth of the sun, the cool breeze under my wings. Nothing, and no one, is comparable to you. Especially not Elain Archeron. You are all there is for me, you are my everything. My heart and my soul. She is nothing to me.”
Tears fell from your eyes and his words prompted you to look up, the love shining on his face washing over you. “I know, Az. I know it’s foolish to allow her to make me doubt us.” You ducked your head down, ashamed. “Though sometimes I still wonder if you should’ve been mated to someone more powerful.”
Azriel clicked his tongue at your age-old concern, a conversation the two of you had gone over many times. “You know as well as I do that that’s not true. You were the one cauldron-made for me. We were sworn to each other from the day of our creation. Do not ever forget that.” He slipped a hand under your chin, bringing you back up to look at him. He studied your face like it was a painting, like he needed to memorize everything he saw. His thumb came up and brushed away your tears as he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips. “Elain will never be what you are.” He kissed you again and again, swallowing your fears with his adoration.
Neither of you noticed the form of the female standing outside the slightly open door.
***
Azriel was tired, shuffling through the house after yet another mission. He hated that he had been gone so often recently, especially with the issues you’ve been having with Elain. He was sick with worry over the whole situation, and was growing aggravated with Rhys’ lack of action. Even when Azriel had spoken to his brother himself, the High Lord still struggled to believe his quiet sister-in-law was being so horrible. Az even went to Feyre, who got upset that he would accuse her sister of such things.
He ran a hand over his face, making his way to the library to find you. He was disheartened when he opened the doors and found you weren’t there. He took a seat on one of the leather couches, deciding to just wait for you there. Azriel knew that you often came around this time to browse the books, and he was too tired to continue searching for you. He gave a gentle tug on the bond to alert you that he was home before tipping his head back and closing his eyes.
***
Elain was positively delighted to find the sleeping form of the Shadowsinger. She looked around quickly to make sure no one saw as she gently closed the doors to the library behind her. She wasted no time in curling up next to him on the couch, resting her head in his lap. She slowly dragged his arm over her waist, a wicked smile coming across her face. She knew you would be coming to find him, and what a sight you would see when you did.
***
The second Cassian dropped you at the House of Wind you were practically running through the halls. When you had felt the tug that meant Azriel was back, you demanded Cass bring you home in the middle of lunch. He grumbled about not being done as you packaged the food up for him, pulling him from the little restaurant. You were in much better spirits today, Elain hadn’t approached you in days. When Cass suggested going down to Velaris to eat you had jumped at the opportunity, excited to be in the happy bustle of people who lived there.
You slid to a stop in front of the library, one of his shadows twisting around your legs. “Hello,” you cooed, a smile on your face. The shadow started moving faster, almost as if it were upset. Worry took over your heart then, concern that Azriel had gotten hurt.
You threw open the library doors and stopped dead in your tracks. There, on the couch, was Azriel. Uninjured, asleep.
And curled up on his lap was Elain.
You stood there in pure horror, not noticing Cassian coming up behind you. “What?” He said, taking in the sight in front of you. You didn’t realize you were shaking in rage until he put his hands on your arms, trying to pull you away.
“Get off of me,” you ground out, ripping your arms out of his grasp. Cassian called your name, trying to stop the explosion that was about to happen. Your vision was red, the anger and pain of seeing the two of them cuddled up like lovers too much to handle. “I’m going to kill them.”
“You will not,” came a powerful voice, Rhys stepping in front of you. “My office. Now.” You wanted to spit at his feet and tell him to shove off, but one look at his eyes told you that wouldn’t end well. You huffed, allowing him to lead you away.
Unnoticed on the couch, Elain smiled.
***
“Why would you stop me?” You practically yelled, pacing back and forth in front of Rhys.
“You can’t murder my brother and sister-in-law in their sleep.” He said, as if this was a regular occurrence.
“That filthy bitch,” you swore, turning to face Rhys head on. “I tried to tell you who she truly was, and no one listened.” You glared at him, crossing your arms in front of you.
“Elain has never showed signs of what you spoke of. As horrible as it is, could it be that Azriel was a part of this?” He regretted the words before he was even done saying them.
“Why do you refuse to believe that she could be playing a dirty game behind your back? Behind everyone’s back? I had no reason to make up lies about her, Rhysand,” you spat out, power crackling at your fingertips.
He stood, coming to stand by your side. He pulled your hands into his, looking down at your glowing fingertips. “Show me,” he said, voice hardly above a whisper. You faltered, power fading away. You were embarrassed to let him see how badly she had affected you, but you knew he would not believe you otherwise.
“Okay,” you whispered, looking up into his eyes. You felt the strange sensation of Rhys entering your mind, pulling through all your memories with Elain. He listened to all the nasty things she said when no one else could hear, and felt the pain she caused you. When he was done he looked ashamed of himself, upset that he had brushed you off.
“I-I’m sorry,” he said, pulling his hands from yours. “I should have trusted you.”
You nodded. “Yea, you should have.” Rhys looked at the ground, his hands in his pockets. “I want to go away for a while. Anywhere. I can’t stand to be around her any longer, and I certainly have no interest in speaking to him.” You couldn’t even say your mates name, the hurt cutting too deep in your chest.
“As you wish,” Rhys said, “I’ll meet you on the balcony in an hour.”
***
Azriel woke with a start. Something was very, very wrong. Starting with the female asleep next to him.
He didn’t stop himself from jumping up, nearly knocking her to the floor. Not that he cared. “What are you doing?!” He hissed between his teeth, angry that she would pull a stunt like this.
Elain smiled up at him prettily, stretching as if she had been asleep for hours. “I was just sleeping, Azriel.” He hated the way she spoke his name, as if it were a sensual demand. “Your sweet little mate didn’t come to you, did she?” She fake pouted, tucking a hand under her chin.
Azriel’s eyes flared, his shadows whipping through the room. He stepped closer to her, hauling her to her feet with a strong grip on her arm. “This game you’re playing is done. Speak to me or my wife again, and I will make sure it’s the last thing you do.” He couldn’t bring himself to feel guilty at the fear in her eyes as he strode from the room, searching for you.
***
Rhys had taken you out to the cabin at your request. You wanted to be somewhere alone, but safe. “What should I tell him?” He asked as he headed to leave.
“Tell him to figure out what he wants before it’s too late.” Rhys nodded, looking you over once more. “If you need anything, i’m just a call away,” he quipped, tapping the side of his head before winnowing out of sight.
You sighed, sinking down into the plush sofa in front of the fireplace. You stared into the burning flames for what felt like hours, lost in your own mind. Azriel wouldn’t have lied to you, would he? Your mate has always been an honest male, had always loved you with everything he had. You found it hard to believe that he was messing around with Elain behind your back, regardless of what you saw. You knew how nasty she could be, and wouldn’t put it past her to pull something like this.
At the same time, the image of his arm draped lovingly around her was burned into your brain. You saw it over and over again, how well they complemented each other. The strong, dark Shadowsinger and the quiet, warm Archeron sister. Had the cauldron made a mistake? You couldn’t help but remember her words, ‘three brothers and three sisters.’ You and Azriel were mated decades before she was born, it could be plausible that the cauldron had made a mistake.
Yet the cauldron had also given Elain her own mate. It wouldn’t mess up twice, would it? Unless the cauldron had meant for you and Lucien to be mated, and Elain with Azriel. Perhaps something got crossed over and the pairings were mixed. Could all your years of joy and love with Azriel be wrong? You never felt anything was awry when you were with him, always feeling like you were truly meant to be.
You sighed and wrapped a blanket tight around you, willing it to keep away the lonely cold. You couldn’t imagine a life without Azriel by your side, and you didn’t know what you would do if that’s what he wanted.
***
“Where is she?!” Azriel bellowed through the halls of the House, shadows infiltrating every room and hallway. Rhys and Cass stood in front of him, trying to calm their brother. “I know you know! What kind of a game are you playing, hiding my own mate from me?!” He was angrier than he had ever been, angry at himself, at Elain, at Rhys. How could he have let Elain play him like that?
“I won’t tell you anything until you’ve calmed down,” Rhys stated, power rising to match Azriel’s.
“Calmed down? You expect me to calm down when that witch has been ruining my mates life, and now she’s disappeared and no one will tell me where she went?!” Azriel was seething, pacing angrily in the hall.
“I’d watch how you speak about my sister, Azriel.” He whirled around to see Feyre, eyes cool as she took in his agitated form.
“Your sister is a disgusting, selfish, spoiled brat! Someone tell me where my mate is before I tear this city apart!” He didn’t care that he was yelling at his High Lady, at his High Lord and brother. All he could see was red, and he was half a second away from leaving the House and looking for her on his own.
“Enough, Azriel,” Rhys commanded, bringing attention back to him. “Feyre, unfortunately it does seem true that Elain has been acting…undesirably.” There was a silence for a moment, her eyes widening as he shared the memories you showed him.
“Oh, Az,” she soothed, taking a step closer and reaching a hand out for him.
“Don’t touch me!” He shouted, pulling back from her. “I need to know where she is. I have to explain that what she saw was a dirty trick.” The anger was fading from his voice, despair taking over. What if you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore? He wouldn’t be able to handle losing you over this.
“Az,” Rhys started, voice calm. “She asked to go away. You’re going to have to give her time to process what has happened.” He took a step towards his brother. “I am sorry I didn’t listen before. She showed me her memories, of everything Elain had said. She will be dealt with, I promise you. I should have never let it get this bad.”
Azriel knew it wasn’t entirely his fault, but that didn’t stop him from lashing out. “Yea, you should’ve listened. When has she ever lied to you, Rhysand?” He shook his head. “Let me know if she contacts you,” was the last thing he said before storming off towards your shared room.
***
Some time had passed since you left Velaris, and the loneliness was threatening to overtake you. You had felt some tugs on the bond once Azriel realized you were gone, and had shut him out. You didn’t need him bothering you as you tried to figure out what to do. After pondering for days, you still had no idea what was true or not. You felt like you were losing your grip on reality, that you were sinking down into a pit of your own creation. You’d hardly moved from the couch since you arrived, staring into the endless flames.
A knock at the door startled you, but you no longer had the energy to truly care. You turned your head slowly to see Rhys walk in, eyes full of worry. “Have you moved at all?” He asked, taking in that the food he had left was untouched.
You shrugged.
Rhys came and sat next to you on the couch, looking you over. “He’s losing it without you,” he said softly, unsure what kind of mental state you were in.
Your eyes moved from the fire to him, stare blank. “I think you should come home. Being out here alone isn’t doing you any good. You’re withering away to nothing.”
Good. You’d rather disappear than live with the idea of Azriel and Elain. Rhys seemed to read this on your face, gingerly grabbing one of your hands in his own. “She’s been removed from the House. She’s not allowed out without Feyre or myself with her. She won’t hurt you anymore.”
You blinked. “What does Azriel think?” You asked, voice hoarse from no use.
“Az couldn’t care less about her. He’s worried about you.” There was a pleading in his eyes, begging you to come back with him.
“What if she was supposed to be cauldron-made for him?” Your voice was quiet, broken. You could feel the pain of your words as they hit Rhys, the shame of having ignored your attempts at warning him how Elain truly was.
“She isn’t. Even if you and Azriel were not mates, I have never met two people more suited for each other than you. It is clear that the love you hold is a special thing, something most won’t ever experience.” He tugs your hand closer. “Please. Come home.”
You didn’t know Rhys to lie to you, and your heart longed for Azriel. You couldn’t hide from this forever, regardless of how it turned out. “Okay,” you said, allowing him to pull you to your feet and winnow you back to Velaris.
***
Azriel was waiting when Rhys flew you back to the House, eyes wide as he took in the state of you. When Rhys set you down you immediately stumbled, head light from the lack of eating and sleeping. Azriel caught you before you could hit the ground, an alarmed gaze shooting to Rhys. “We will talk later,” he said, “take her to your room. I’ll send for Madja to check her over soon.”
Azriel nodded his thanks and carried you to your room, tucking you into the bed. You sunk into the familiar smell of him, trying to force the spinning in your head to disappear. “My love,” Azriel murmured, brushing hair out of your face. “What have I done?”
You opened your eyes and took him in. Truthfully, he didn’t look much better than you. There were deep shadows under his eyes, and his face was unusually gaunt. The stress of this situation had clearly taken its toll on the both of you.
“Are you in love with her?” You asked, tears pricking at the back of your eyes.
Azriel looked at you as if you had grown two heads.
“I’m sorry? In love with Elain? In hate with her is more like it.” You couldn’t deny the acid that dripped from his words, the anger the permeated the room.
“I saw you two. Asleep in the library.”
He scoffed. “I fell asleep waiting for you. She took it upon herself to take advantage of the situation.” He looked down at his hands, silver lining his eyes. “I never should have let it go this far.”
You sat up slowly, reaching out for him. Azriel moved quickly, gently laying you back down as he laid beside you. “Easy, my love. Your body is weak.” You hadn’t realized how bad you had gotten during your time at the cabin, suddenly feeling dizzy and sick.
“I’m so sorry, Az. I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t handle it,” you sobbed, not even noticing the tears that had started falling.
“No, no. Don’t apologize. You did nothing wrong. I should’ve fought harder against her, tried harder to get Rhys to listen.” He cupped your cheek, running his thumb through your tears. You curled into his touch, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and pull you to his chest.
You cried until your head was pounding, Azriel whispering sweet nothings into your ears. “I love you. Only you.” Your tears slowly stopped, until you felt confident enough to look up at him.
“I love you. I shouldn’t have doubted you,” you said, leaning up to kiss him.
A knock sounded at the door. Azriel jumped up to get it, letting Madja into the room. She began checking you over, tsking at the state of you. “I’ll give you something for dehydration, and you’ll need to start introducing food again. Start with soup, and work your way up. I have a sleep aid as well, I recommend you take it promptly.” She ran her hands over your arms and legs, ensuring all your bones were still in good shape. She did the same over your head, shoulders, and chest.
“Your heart sounds good, and your lungs are working well. You were lucky the High Lord came when he did, much more of letting yourself wither away and you’d have a significantly harder recovery ahead of you,” she chided, continuing her check of your body. Her hands swept over your abdomen before she paused, bringing them back up. “Ah,” she murmured, Azriel immediately on guard.
“What is it? Is something wrong?” He asked, gripping your hand a tad too tightly.
Madja shook her head. “No, nothing is wrong.” She looked up at you and cocked her head. “You are a lucky girl, you know. Not many pregnant fae could have refused food and drink for that long and still kept a reasonably healthy body and fetus.”
You stared at her.
She stared back.
Azriel stared at the both of you.
“What?” You finally asked, breaking the silence that had settled over the room.
She smiled, pressing her hands against your abdomen again. “A baby. Healthy, winged, i’d say 12 or so weeks along?” 12 weeks? You did the math in your head, realizing with a start that around 12 weeks ago Elain started terrorizing you. That shortly after that her words began affecting you worse and worse, that you couldn’t understand why she was able to make you so upset.
Now you knew.
“A baby,” Azriel whispered, looking at you. Madja took that as her cue to leave, placing the medicine on your nightstand and slipping from the room. He pulled you into his arms, inhaling your scent deeply. Sure enough, there it was. A lighter, fresh scent hidden under yours. He must have missed it throughout the recent stress and his back-to-back missions.
“A baby,” you whispered back, more tears threatening to fall. “Our baby.”
You saw tears of his own in Azriel’s eyes as he leaned down to kiss you, whispering “baby” in between each kiss.
The ordeal with Elain behind you, you allowed yourself to slip off into sleep, dreams of your future with Azriel and your child playing in your mind.
***
I’m so sorry this took so long for me to finish! I got into a bit of a writing rut, but I hope this was what you wanted. Thank you so much for your request! <3
#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#azriel x y/n#azriel x you#acotar x you#acotar x y/n#requests#the other woman
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The Weight Of Love And Loss - Last Part
Alexia Putellas x Reader - Part One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight
The weeks after your dinner with Alexia passed in a way that felt both impossibly fast and profoundly significant. What started as sporadic meetups soon became a natural part of your routine again. Lunches, dinners, walks with Mylo—each moment you spent together was layered with the quiet, tentative hope of rebuilding something once lost.
But this time, it was different. There were no unspoken words, no lingering shadows of past pain that hung over your interactions. It felt lighter, freer. Both of you had done the work to heal individually, and now, you were finding your way back to each other with a sense of purpose and clarity you hadn’t had before.
---
Lunches were the first tradition to take root.
Alexia would often text you during the day, her messages a mix of playfulness and genuine interest in your day:
“Lunch break soon? There’s a café that does amazing croquetas. My treat?”
“You need a break from the office grind. Let me kidnap you for an hour.”
And each time, you’d meet her at some tucked-away spot she’d discovered. Whether it was a vibrant tapas bar or a quiet courtyard café, the settings always felt intimate, as if the world was just a backdrop to your conversations.
Dinners, on the other hand, carried a weight of their own.
One evening, Alexia had taken you to a small Italian restaurant she’d raved about. The soft glow of candles illuminated her face, and as she leaned across the table to tell you a story about her teammates’ latest antics, you found yourself mesmerized by her all over again.
“You’re not even listening,” she teased, catching you staring.
You blinked, cheeks flushing. “Sorry, you’re just…distracting.”
Her smile in response was enough to make your heart race.
---
Mylo, of course, had become Alexia’s biggest fan.
Every time she showed up at your door, he’d go into a frenzy, barking and wagging his tail so hard it was a wonder he didn’t topple over.
“Okay, okay, I’m here,” Alexia would laugh, crouching to let him jump on her. “Did you miss me, little guy?”
“He likes you more than me,” you’d joke, but deep down, you loved seeing how easily she connected with him.
Your walks often took you through the park, Mylo leading the way as you and Alexia strolled side by side. The conversations ranged from light banter to deeper reflections on life, and with every word, you felt the bond between you grow stronger.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and painted the sky in hues of orange and pink, Alexia turned to you with a soft smile.
“I missed this,” she admitted. “Just…being with you.”
Your heart swelled at her words, and for the first time, you allowed yourself to fully believe that what you were building with her now could be even better than before.
---
Alexia had invited you to one of her matches and you’d agreed without hesitation.
Seeing her back on the pitch after everything she’d been through was nothing short of inspiring. From the moment she stepped onto the field, she was a force of nature—commanding, confident, and utterly in her element.
You watched her with a mix of admiration and pride, clapping and cheering with every move she made. When the final whistle blew and her team secured a victory, you felt a swell of joy that had nothing to do with the game itself.
After the match, Alexia came to find you in the friends and family section. She spotted you immediately, her face breaking into a wide grin. Without a second thought, she hopped over the barrier, landing gracefully on the other side.
“You were amazing,” you told her as she pulled you into a hug.
Her arms lingered around you a moment longer than necessary. “It means so much to have you here,” she said softly.
Later that night, you joined her and her teammates at a bar to celebrate. Though the lively atmosphere wasn’t usually your scene, Alexia made it worth it. The two of you sat together in a corner booth, laughing and talking as if the rest of the world didn’t exist.
When you told her you wanted to head home, Alexia didn’t hesitate to offer to walk you.
---
It was late by the time you reached your building, the city quiet save for the occasional sound of passing cars.
“Do you want to come in for a drink?” you asked, the words tumbling out before you could second-guess yourself.
Alexia nodded. “I’d like that.”
Inside, Mylo greeted you both with his usual excitement, his tail wagging furiously as Alexia knelt to greet him.
“You’re such a good boy,” she cooed, scratching behind his ears.
You grabbed a bottle of wine and two glasses, and the two of you settled on the couch. The conversation flowed easily, the wine loosening your inhibitions just enough to let the words come freely.
At some point, the distance between you disappeared. Alexia shifted closer, her arm brushing against yours as she turned to face you.
“I’ve missed this,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve missed you.”
You looked into her eyes, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. Then, she leaned in.
The kiss was soft at first, hesitant, as if she were afraid you might pull away. But you didn’t. Instead, you kissed her back, your hands finding their way to her face as the world around you faded away.
When you finally pulled back, Alexia’s cheeks were flushed, her eyes shining with emotion.
“I still love you,” she admitted, her voice trembling. “I know I messed up before, but I want to fix this. I want us to have another chance.”
Her words hung in the air, raw and vulnerable.
You took a deep breath, your heart pounding. “Lex…” You paused, searching for the right words. “I never stopped loving you.”
Her face lit up with a smile, and before you could say anything else, she pulled you into another kiss.
---
That night marked the start of something new. You and Alexia weren’t just picking up where you left off—you were building something stronger, something rooted in the lessons you’d both learned during your time apart.
She became a constant presence in your life again, not just as a partner but as someone who truly understood you in a way no one else ever had.
And as the weeks turned into months, you found yourself falling even deeper in love with her—proof that sometimes, the best things in life are worth fighting for.
------------------------------------------------------------
The End.
Oh my gosh, I loved writing this story so much. I hope you enjoyed it too.
Happy New Year, everyone!!
#alexia putellas x reader#woso community#barca femeni#alexia putellas fanfic#alexia x reader#alexia putellas#woso fics#woso#woso x reader
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What are your thoughts on the idea that Inho's obsession with Gihun might do with the fact that Gihun reminds him of his dead wife?
I'm biased because I absolutely eat it up. I never been the same after seeing a post here that compared Gihun's s1 smiling photo with a photo of Inho's wife smiling.
There's also the fact that in s2 ep4, Inho called his wife stubborn, and how theres no point in arguing with her once she set her mind on something (going through her pregnancy despite her being very sick).
It made me think of Gihun's dedication of finding the Recruiter/Salesman, his insistance on being put back in the game...and him not listening to Inho when being told to get on the plane.
With this in mind, Inho's "Just get on the plane. It's for your own good." can be read more that just one man telling another man with who he shares similar trauma, to get the good life he doesn't have (but it's absolutely valid!!)
It could also be Inho (without realizing it) pleading for Gihun (his wife) to listen to him (the doctors), and (this time) survive. But just like with his wife, Gihun isn't budging with his decision. He made up his mind, go argue with a wall.
(Now it doesn't mean that Inho saw his wife in Gihun in an instance. It happens slowly as Inho gets closer to him)
Hi! Thanks for the question. I think I know the post you’re referring to—my shipper brain absolutely devoured that too, not gonna lie. XD
Even beyond the shipping lens, though, everything you’ve said really resonates. It feels like the core of their dynamic, doesn’t it? In-ho is clearly drawn to something about Gi-hun’s refusal to compromise on his principles, his unshakable belief in humanity, and his conviction that things can still turn out for the better. The only other person In-ho has explicitly mentioned as being just as stubborn as Gi-hun is his late wife, which feels like a significant parallel.
Now, of course, this is all speculation, and we won’t know In-ho’s full motivations until Season 3 (hopefully) sheds some light. But I don’t think In-ho has ever truly moved on from his wife’s death. He’s still grieving, still carrying the weight of that loss. He’s angry—angry at himself for not being there when his wife and child died, angry at the world for the circumstances that led to it, and probably angry at the Games themselves for existing. (I’ll die on the hill that In-ho hates the Games, despite being their enforcer.) He’s also angry at humanity at large for failing people in need, for letting the world get to this point.
And I think there’s a part of him that’s angry at his wife, too, (don't kill me, hear me out). She was self-sacrificing to a fault, willing to risk her own life to save their unborn child. That mirrors what we see in Gi-hun, especially at the end of Season 1. In the final game, after Sang-woo is defeated, Gi-hun refuses to abandon his morals to win, even when the easier path is right in front of him. That kind of unyielding determination, that refusal to bend—even at great personal cost—has to strike a nerve with In-ho.
Since In-ho can’t confront his late wife or tell her she was wrong to risk it all, to leave him alone, he directs all that unresolved grief and anger toward Gi-hun instead. Gi-hun becomes a constant, painful reminder of everything In-ho lost—and everything he’s come to resent about the world.
So, what does In-ho do? He sets out to break Gi-hun. To tear apart everything and everyone Gi-hun cares about until all that’s left is despair. Maybe then, In-ho can finally say: “See? There’s no point. None of it means anything. You were wrong—just like she was wrong.”
It’s a cruel and calculated move, but also deeply human. If he can prove that Gi-hun’s ideals and morals are meaningless, it would, in a twisted way, justify the choices In-ho has made and the person he’s become.
In the end, it’s not just about Gi-hun or his late wife. It’s about In-ho’s own pain, his need to make sense of the senseless, and his desperate attempt to validate the path he’s taken—even if it’s at the expense of someone who still believes in the good.
#squid game#457#gihun x inho#ginho#squid game 2#001 x 456#character study#hwang in ho#seong gi hun#meta tag#is it meta?? i dont know i just fucking love this man#squid game season 2#squid game meta#inhun#gi hun x in ho#gihun x frontman#the frontman#front man
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a girl
peter parker x female!reader
setting: civil war, meeting for the first time
genre: a little angsty at the beginning but it's mostly fluff
you're lost in a trance as you use the blowtorch to reshape the dented metal on one of tony's suits. you insisted that he let you work in the lab because it had a way of taking your mind off of everything else.
and right now, you could really use a distraction. steve was god knows where and the whole team just seemed to be getting closer and closer to falling apart. your family was falling apart.
there was nothing you could do about it and it killed you. of course your dad's way of handling things was just to make demands and empty promises, so you had a hard time seeing a way back from all of this.
natasha tried to tell you that you were wrong. she consoled you and reminded you that tony and steve aren't as different as they think. she held you and told you that everything would be okay.
but how could you believe her when all the evidence showed otherwise?
peter wandered around aimlessly with his head up in the clouds, looking for tony. he popped his head into the doorway of the lab that you were in.
when he saw a person covered head to toe, wearing a mechanics apron, a face shield and gloves that were way too large for their hands, he automatically assumed it was tony. "mr. stark! hey, i was meaning to ask you-"
he was interrupted by you pulling up the face shield. you were exhausted and your hair was stuck to your forehead by the sheen of sweat covering your face. and yet you still managed to take peter's breath away.
"wow," he swallowed. "you're a-uh...a-" he choked on his words.
"a girl," you finished his sentence for him with a smirk.
he let out an awkward laugh that was partially a sigh, "sorry."
"what for?" you asked.
peter just stared at you with big doe eyes.
"i thought you were..." and just as he began to say his name, tony walked in from behind him looking for something specific.
he didn't even spare peter a glance as he spoke, "you better not be flirting with my daughter, parker."
peter's jaw almost dropped. daughter!? it made sense the more he watched the two of you, but it surely wasn't what he was expecting.
"no, sir. i would never. well, it's not that i wouldn't," he changed the subject before he could get himself in anymore trouble. "i was just going to ask where i should come in during the fight. like, should i have a cool catch phrase. maybe something like," he lowered his voice, "a spider bites to kill."
you rolled your eyes and tony looked peter up and down, thoroughly unamused.
"let's skip the catch phrases and instead you can go help rhodey with surveillance," tony clapped him on the back.
"okay. so we'll just say it's a work in progress?" peter asked hopefully.
tony shook his head, "don't push it."
peter slowly backed away, "i'm not hearing 'no'. is that a 'maybe'?"
you couldn't help but laugh at the interaction. the new kid was kind of adorable.
your dad quickly spun around to give you a disapproving look.
#marvel#mcu#avengers#fanfiction#marvel fluff#peter parker#fluff#peter 1#peter parker fluff#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#stark!daughter#stark!reader#peter parker x stark!reader
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arms tonite (joel miller/reader)
summary: basically its YOU who gets stabbed by the baseball bat. joel isnt good with feelings. david does not exist david cant hurt anybody. a bit of angst and a bit of fluff. also LOOSELY based on arms tonite by mother mother
a/n: yawlllllll it has been a MINUTE but i am back for some tlou cause i just really wanted to write for these characters i love so very much. i apologize if the timing of their travel is fucked, i truly have no concept of geography so we can ignore that.
wc: 3.5k
warnings: just general tlou gore, nothin too bad
-
-
You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment you fell in love with Joel Miller. But as you lay here, Joel's hands soaked in your blood as he attempted to stop it from pulsating out of your abdomen, you knew it was love that you were feeling. It was supposed to be simple. After your brief stay in Jackson, the two of you were supposed to take Ellie to the fireflies. Yet, nothing seemed to be simple these days, especially not around this girl.
In the amount of time the three of you had spent together, you developed an unbreakable bond. Ellie became a sort of surrogate sister to you- you’d lost your family when you were just a kid during the outbreak and you never had the chance to become a big sister. At least not for long. And then there was Joel. You weren’t quite sure what he meant to you yet, but you’d be lying if you said you wouldn’t die for him. For both of them, really- a life without them wasn’t worth living. Of course, you never planned on telling them that.
The day started fairly nice- with Joel allowing Ellie to make her own decision about who would be taking her to the fireflies. Sure, you and Ellie would be fine with Tommy, but Joel had failed to consider the bond the three of you shared when making this decision. He was thinking of only himself and his fear- this is what you had told him last night after his fight with Ellie.
“What the hell was that?” you asked him after he stormed out of Ellie’s temporary room.
“It was nothin’. Doesn’t concern you,” he replied, brushing past you as he made his way to the couch where he decided to set up camp for the night.
“Um, it sure as hell does concern me, Joel. Are you seriously going to abandon us? After everything we’ve been through, after how much that girl trusts you, Joel!” you raised your voice a bit, trying to keep yourself from alerting Ellie upstairs. Those words stung him a bit. He didn’t see it as abandonment- he saw it as protection. After everything you went through together, he never once put himself first.
“She doesn’t know a thing about what this means,” Joel turned to you. “She- she’s just a kid, she-” he stopped himself, trying to gather himself. “I can’t bring her. I’m not capable, I’m slowin’ down and I just can’t. Do. It,” he exhaled, dropping himself onto the couch.
“Wow,” you replied, softly sitting next to him. “You’re really underestimating yourself,” you sighed, Joel, lifting his face to look at you. “I mean, not only yourself but me, Joel. In case you’d forgotten, I’ve gotten myself through some tough shit. And Ellie? Man, she's the toughest kid I’ve ever met. Hell, she's one of the toughest people I’ve ever met,” you said, observing Joel’s worn face. “I mean… don't you think she at least deserves a choice?” you asked, hoping to convince Joel to come to his senses and realize who he was.
“I’ll take the couch. Bedrooms down the hall,” he grumbled before turning his back to you and lying down. There was nothing left you could say at this point, so you decided to spare yourself and make your way to the bedroom. The bed was pretty big. It could’ve fit two people.
The moment you saw Joel in the stables the next morning, you could feel your heart soar. Before he said a word, you knew he had made the right decision. The three of you squeezed onto the horse, Ellie sandwiched in the middle, and you were off. You and Joel sat in peaceful silence for a while, occasionally responding to Ellie’s rambling to show you were listening. Before you knew it, you were arriving at the so-called firefly base.
“What the fu-” you started.
“Holy shit! Are those monkeys?” Ellie exclaimed, pointing at the crowd of animals before you.
“Must be from the old labs,” Joel muttered, a hint of interest in his voice
“Look at them go!” you giggled.
“First time seein’ a monkey?” Joel asked the two of you.
“First time seein' a monkey,” you replied in unison, both awestruck. A smile crept onto Joel's face at this- the togetherness he felt in rare moments like this is what kept him going.
You soon came across the fireflies symbol painted on a couple of signs, but no guards appeared nearby. You all dismounted the horse before making your way inside, guns drawn. You in the back, Joel in the front, and Ellie sandwiched between yet again. The building you came across was abandoned from the looks of it, with papers scattered about.
“They just left,” Joel said, coming across a packing list among the scattered supplies. You suddenly heard a clang from another room, drawing your attention.
“Maybe not all of them,” you replied as the three of you carefully moved towards the sound. Your heart picked up its pace- whatever was in that room couldn’t be a firefly. Maybe a raider, you thought, which didn’t help your anxieties. Joel put a finger to his lips before opening the door, signaling for your silence. Relief rushed through you as you saw the source of the noise was just a few stray monkeys. It was only moments later that you heard voices- voices that certainly didn’t come from an animal. Peering out the window, the three of you saw a group of men, presumably raiders.
“Shit,” you murmured, instinctively grabbing Ellie’s arm.
“Out the back,” said Joel, leading the way for the three of you to make your escape. You ducked behind some sandbags for a moment before making your break to the horse. As Joel untied the horse, you heard footsteps quickly making their way over to you.
“Joel!” Ellie screamed as the man swung his bat at his head, hitting it on a tree and breaking it in two. While Joel dodged his attack you jumped on the man and banged him into the tree behind him before he knocked you back on your ass, banging your head on the ground. You’ve had your fair share of concussions, and you knew that's exactly what just happened to you. Joel quickly recovered from the first attack before grabbing the man, a wave of anger in his eyes as you’ve never seen before. His arm tightened around the man's throat, unrelenting in its strength. Struggle as he may, it wasn’t long before his neck was snapped. You remain on the ground, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you look at Ellie, shakily holding her gun. Her eyes darken as they shift down to your stomach. Your eyes follow hers and you finally see what she’s looking at. When the man hit the bat into the tree, it must've snapped in half. One half was on the ground a few feet away from you, while, unfortunately, the other half was buried in your stomach.
“Shit,” Ellie said, lowering her gun and walking over to you. Your hand reached down, adrenaline still pumping through your body, and you instinctively pulled the wooden piece out of your abdomen. You barely even felt it. Joel was silent the entire time, and you couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking. You threw it aside before noticing three more men coming your way. As fast as possible, Joel hiked himself up onto the horse and grabbed you while Ellie pushed from the ground before pulling herself up, you now sitting between the two. Joel didn’t let himself focus on the anxiety in his chest that blurred his vision- he needed to get you both to safety.
“Fuck,” you sighed, adrenaline wearing off a bit and pain seeping in.
“Go!” Ellie yelled to Joel as you began to move. She grabbed her gun and shot backward at the men- she didn’t have the best aim, but it certainly deterred them from advancing anymore. Ellie kept peering over her shoulder, on high alert. If you weren’t putting all of your focus on staying conscious, you’d have noticed her slight tremble. You would have noticed Joel's body tense when your breathing slowed, his occasional glance over his shoulder. His erratic heartbeat as he tried to keep you talking.
“We’re gonna get back to Jackson and we’re gonna get some help,” Joel said over his shoulder. There wasn’t a hint of emotion in his voice- he was excellent at hiding how he truly feels.
“No,” you uttered, using all of your strength.
“Sorry, no?” Joel questioned.
“Get her to the fireflies,” you whispered before your vision began to blur. Your lifeless body crumpled off the horse, Ellie attempted to hold on but it all happened too fast. The cold snow was stained red, the warm blood leaving your body melting the snow directly beneath you. Joel and Ellie quickly hopped down, one on each side of you.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” Ellie panicked, hands shakily reaching towards your abdomen.
“Ellie,” Joel said, voice laced with panic. He motioned for her to grab his pack while he placed his hands onto the wound, blood seeping through the gaps in his fingers. He had never felt so helpless in his life- at least, not since Sarah. That same shuddered breathing coming from a person he loves- he couldn’t bear it.
“Joel, what the fuck do we do,” she asked. Joel continued to silently work on packing your wound with an extra flannel he had in his bag.
“It’s ok,” you croaked. They immediately turned to you on the ground, almost stopping in their tracks. “Just help me to that house,” you said, motioning towards a house about 50 yards away. You were struggling to breathe under the pressure of Joel’s hands on your wound- it almost seemed useless, you were still losing blood like crazy. Joel tied the flannel around your waist to try to keep the blood from seeping out. Once he decided you were situated, he picked you up bridal style and led you to the house. When you arrived, they gently placed you at the entrance, Ellie staying with you while Joel made sure the house was clear. He returned to help you inside, lying you on an old mattress. You let out a small laugh as you got situated.
“What?” Joel asked, a hint of irritation in his voice. How could you be laughing right now?
“Don’tcha think it's kinda cute?” you asked as he fussed with your bandages.
“What’s that?” he asked gruffly, not exactly in the mood for your attitude.
“Oh, just that I might be dying in your arms tonight. I dunno, feels like a movie,” you said, your pale lips curling into a smile. He gave you a look, pausing briefly to peer into your eyes. You wordlessly pleaded with him to lighten the mood a bit, for Ellie’s sake. He didn't say a word.
“Joel, what the fuck do we do?” Ellie repeated herself in her panic.
“It’s ok. You guys go. Now,” you said. Joel's eyebrows furrowed at this. “You leave, go north. Go to Tommy.”
“Um, the fuck?” Ellie asked. “I don’t know what you think this is but we're not leaving,” Ellie said, frustration creeping into her voice. She looked hurt by this, and it broke your heart. Were you doing the same thing Joel had done just last night?
“The kids right,” Joel said as you turned to look at him. “You’re either comin' with us or we're all campin’ here for the night. No in-between” Joel finished. You pleaded to him with your eyes again, begging him to just give up on you. The two of them would be fine, you knew it. But you didn’t know the emotional toll it would have taken on the stubborn man in front of you. He was stubborn, but so were you. Only you didn’t get a chance to prove just how stubborn you could be before you couldn’t fight the darkness that crept into your vision.
-
You woke with a start the next morning. You often woke in a panic these days, but the feeling was only further cemented when you realized you didn’t quite recognize your surroundings. The only thing you could recognize was Joel’s eyes on you, which brought you some semblance of comfort. When he noticed you awake, he rushed to your side. As much as you could imagine Joel to “rush.”
“Hey, you uh, awake. You’re awake,” he said softly, trying not to wake Ellie asleep in the corner of the same dilapidated room you’d been in for a while now.
“It would appear so,” you replied, attempting to sit up a bit.
“Hey, hey, relax,” he put his hand on your shoulder, urging you to lay back down. “Your infections bad. We managed to trade for some penicillin but it's not gonna be enough. We gotta figure out how to get you back to Jackson,” Joel said, lightly lifting your shirt to look at the wound.
You cursed the heat rising to your face as Joel's fingers brushed your bare skin. You’d never been intimate like this before, though this was barely intimacy. He hadn’t ever touched your skin like this- with such delicacy. You were fragile to him at this moment, and you needed to be handled with care. You hated being a burden, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t feel nice to be taken care of for once.
You were too busy focusing on your own reaction to this gesture to notice Joels. His hands shook as he cared for your wound, wincing as he saw that it really wasn’t getting any better. He didn’t know what this meant- he wasn’t a doctor by any means, but he knew this wasn’t good.
You were in and out of sleep throughout the next day or two, letting the dull, throbbing pain lull you into sleep. It hurt to watch Joel and Ellie worry about you, especially because there was nothing you could do to help. Your days felt numbered- the amount of penicillin was scarce and you weren’t feeling any better. You barely had the strength to keep your eyes open, much less speak.
“Joel,” you managed to croak- you couldn’t even spare the energy to seethe at the pain pulsating throughout your body.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” he replied, kneeling next to you. He only called you sweetheart when he needed something- what did he need from you now? To live? “Whatcha need?”
“You’re special, you know that?” you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.
“And why is that?” he asked, wiping the tear.
“You really know how to make a girl fall in love,” you smiled- this isn’t something you ever planned on telling him, but as you lie there, vision blurring around the edges as the darkness caved in on you, there was nothing else you wanted to say.
Joel felt panic consume him when your eyes closed.
“Hey, hey darlin’, wake up for me, okay?” he pleaded. Ellie stalked over, panic heating her chest. “Ellie, grab her legs,” Joel said. It was like he was kicked into a new gear- he was going to do whatever it took to keep you with him.
-
You didn’t know where you were. The walls were unfamiliar and white- stark and sterile. The first thing you noticed was the couch in the corner of the room, occupied by your two favorite people. Joel sat upright, arms crossed and eyes closed. His brows were furrowed like he was having some sort of nightmare. Ellie’s expression mirrored his, as she lay on her side with her head resting on his leg, arms curled into her chest. Your heart warmed at the sight- he was becoming a father figure to her, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. You tried to sit up, failing immediately as pain shot through your body. You winced, perhaps a little too loud, as Joel’s eyes shot open. Ellie remained in a deep sleep on his lap.
“You’re up,” he acknowledged, almost like it was too good to be true. He carefully shifted his body so he could move Ellie from his lap and onto the couch before he stood to walk towards you. “She hasn’t gotten much sleep, be best not to wake her,” he said, leaning down to brush a hair from her face. Seeing him be this gentle with her melted your heart.
“How, um, how long was I out?” you asked, lifting the sheets to see your wound. It was covered and clean, but you knew it was there from the way it throbbed.
“About a week. Scared the shit out of… the kid,” he said, sitting on the edge of your bed. He bit back what he truly wanted to say- you scared the shit out of him. But he wasn’t going to admit that you had that much of an impact on him. The second he lets others affect his life is the second he gets weak. There wasn’t a place for vulnerability in this world. “It was, a, uh, miracle that you lived.”
“Oh yeah?” your eyebrows raised. “Shit. I’m sorry for worrying… her,” you glanced at Ellie again as she snuggled into the couch. “How did I, um how did you guys get me here?” you asked. Your voice was hoarse from lack of use, but you tried to remain strong.
“We, uh, we gotcha back on the horse. Ellie led the way, I made sure you were safe, I mean, I just made sure you didn’t fall,” he replied, looking at his feet. “Took us awhile to get back, I… I didn't think you were gonna make it,” he replied, coughing to cover up the break in his voice. He was still in disbelief that you even woke up.
“Well, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” you laughed weakly. Then it was silent for a few moments, the two of you stewing in your thoughts. “You know, I think if it had been anybody else with me, I would’ve just died,” you remarked. Joel shook his head.
“Well, that’s not true. You’re strong” he said quietly.
“Well, yeah, sure I’m strong. But I can choose not to be. I honestly would’ve been fine to die if it was in your arms. But I couldn’t do that to you. Not… not again,” you paused, gathering your thoughts. “It’s just… you’re it for me, Joel. You and Ellie- you guys are it. And if I can’t have you guys, well, let's just say I wouldn’t mind staying asleep,” you confessed, avoiding eye contact.
“Ahem…” you heard Ellie clear her throat from her position on the couch. “Sorry, I have a habit of snooping, but holy shit you’re awake!” she squealed, bouncing over to you and plopping herself onto you in a hug. She knocked the wind out of you, and you may have cared if you weren’t so happy to see her.
“Hey, hey, easy on her now,” Joel said, pulling Ellie back from you a bit. He was still quiet, processing what you had just said to him.
“Ahhh, my sweet Ellie girl, how I missed you so,” you smiled, pinching her cheeks.
“Bullshit, you were definitely just dreaming about Joel the whole time. Must’ve been nice, sleeping that long,” she laughed. You ignore the first part of her sentence.
“Yeah, I guess I’m pretty well rested,” you smiled, ruffling her hair and pulling her into another hug.
“I’m gonna go get someone, a nurse,” Ellie excused herself from the room, leaving you with Joel yet again.
“I’m sorry if that was too mu-” you started before Joel cut you off.
“No, no, don’t apologize, sweetheart,” he said softly. It wasn’t a whisper- it was just soft. He’d been so soft with you. “I… I can’t say I don’t feel the same,” he looked down at his shoes.
“Oh, uh, you do?” you blushed. You felt so childish, like you were admitting you had a crush on him, but it was more than that. It was a partnership, a dependency- a loyalty to one another that didn’t need a label. Only, you couldn’t hide the way you felt anymore.
“Gosh, I can’t even tell you how it felt to see you like that. It should’ve been me, you know,” he said, disappointment evident on his features.
“Um, no, it shouldn’t have. Besides, how would we have gotten your big ass back to Jackson?” you giggled, grabbing his hand. His expression changed then as he looked down at your intertwined hands. “Joel, what does this mean?” you asked.
He chose not to respond with words- they were never his strong suit. Without a word, he leaned down and placed a soft kiss on your lips. It was soft and it was sweet and it was like nothing you had ever experienced before- not from someone you loved. You reciprocated, weaving a hand into his hair to pull him closer.
“Yeah, they’re just in here-woahhhhhhh!” Ellie yelled, giggling and running out of the room. Joel quickly pulled back and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
“That little shit,” he sighed.
“Well, she was gonna have to find out somehow,” you giggled, pressing a kiss to his bruised knuckles.
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