#because in one of the last chapters the author said that they were really excited

[writingblueefurfire]

An unfinished fic is always going to be existing in a nebulous will-they/wont-they status.

I prefer to call a fic neglected rather than abandoned. Abandoned implies that there is little, to no hope for a continuation. Neglected means the fic is on the backburner, or in the attic gathering dust. It does, however, still live rent free in the authors brain, and the author might pick it up, blow the dust off and do something with it at any point in time.

And like, I get that people get upset when this wonderful piece of art hasn't been updated, and might never be updated, but thats the risk we take in reading fanfiction. Hell, we risk it reading Officially Published For Money books too(or watching good shows. Looking at you, Firefly). Which y'know, where a great number of fanfics spring from.

Some of you would not survive waiting months to years for a WIP to update.

Look at me, listen to me: A couple of months is way too early to think a fic is abandoned or dead. A year is often too early. Internalize this.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ under your roof ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ your baby daughter really likes uncle wade’s roommate, and logan would be lying if he said he didn’t form a quick attachment to the two of you as well┊2.9k words; prt one (here), prt two, prt three coming soon!!

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: probably occ logan, he’s on his best behavior, mostly fluff with a little side of angst, single mother reader with an unspecified age, this chapter is mainly between logan & your daughter, reader has a bad relationship with the father & he’s an asshole, one joking threat of stabbing

➤ author's note: this was so much fun to write! single mom reader and her daughter are so lovely and i have two more part featuring these two and logan coming up! i hope you guys enjoy

kids don’t like logan. it’s not a profound discovery nor is it a surprise to anyone who learns this fact. he’s intimidating enough to make some full-grown men piss themselves with so much as a glare, much less little babies who start sobbing uncontrollably when they see a giant scary man walking around believing that he would eat them or something even though he’s literally just standing there. whether the little ones have an instinct that signals him out as a mutant or he simply looks like a bad man from one of their fairy tales, he isn’t sure, but it’s not the best feeling either way when he’s trying to settle back into normal life with the constant weight of knowing that he’ll never fit in.

it doesn’t help that, in general, he isn’t good with kids either. he’s generally patient with their immaturity since they don’t know any better, but he finds the crying and whining extremely headache-inducing to his sensitive senses without a clue how to calm them down.

moving in with wade and acquainting himself with his friends was a start, but the missing part of his life to make him finally feel loved and at home was the family of two who lived downstairs. the first time he met you was also the first time he met your daughter when wade told him to dress a little nicer because the two of them were invited to your place for dinner. he explained that the two of you were practically siblings and that it would probably be something he should get used to, reminding him to “turn that frown upside down” because he was about to meet someone who “puts gordon ramsey to shame.”

the last bit sounded great to him, especially because no one in their household knew how to make anything more complicated than noodles without setting it on fire and the cost of outside food was really starting to tally up. still, he just wore some cargo pants and threw on a leather jacket, running his fingers through his hair once which was already a lot more effort than he’s ever put into meeting anyone else before.

wade didn’t even bother knocking, just being himself and picking the lock as he so typically does, kicking the door open and yelling a loud ass “daddy’s home!” which echoed throughout the apartment as well as the hallway they were standing in. the mouth-watering smell of grilled salmon filled the air, making wade hum in excitement, “do you need help with anything? taste testing, perhaps?”

“no, do me a favor and stay away from the kitchen!” your voice rang out loud and clear, sounding much like a mother scolding a teenager for the thousandth time. “i’ll stab you, do me a favor and just hang out in the living room.”

“okie-dokie!” he responded in an annoying sing-song voice, “come on, peanut, take off your shoes.” the said man could already tell how at home his roommate seemed in this place, just as comfortable as he was back home, walking with steps he’s taken many times before and prompting logan to do the same (except he was mainly keeping to himself and being much more mild-mannered in this unfamiliar area).

the place was as spacious as the small area could be and tastefully decorated, but all sharp corners of furniture were taped over to dull the edges and the carpet had multiple kinds of colorful toys littered about. in the center of it all, was a little toddler about two or three years old, playing with a kitchen set and trying to copy what her mom was doing by running back and forth between the living room and the kitchen. she didn’t even notice the two men at first, not until wade called out her name and she dropped the plastic utensils to clap her hands together before waddling over to him.

“hey, baby! how are you doing? did you miss me?” he cooed in the high-pitched voice reserved only for mary puppins, reaching down to pick up the girl by her underarms and kissing her cheek, spinning around with her in his arms as she giggled uncontrollably. “do you wanna meet the big scary wolverine while i go bother your mommy? who am i kidding, of course you do!” he then dropped her onto the couch, making sure that she didn’t bounce up too high on the cushion and hurt herself. “okay, you keep her company while i go see what’s for dessert— bye!”

before logan could say anything, he was already gone, disappearing around the corner into the sound of sizzling foods and the scent of herbs. pursing his lips together and shuffling his feet around for a second, he grunted and braced himself for the child to start sobbing uncontrollably because she was left alone with him. the first time he meets you, whom he’s heard so many good things about, is going to be when you have to kick him out with his tail in between his legs for disturbing the peace of your home.

but the cries never came, and his eyes met her big curious ones as she just stared up at him in silence. it was honestly a tad bit unnerving like she was sizing him up and carefully thinking about her next move. 

and then she started giggling like earlier, kind of a more gurgling noise of playfulness more than anything, standing at his feet and waving around her short outstretched arms to signal that she wanted uppies from him.

“oh no—“ he’s not sure why he even let out a word or protest to begin with when he knew she wouldn’t listen, but it was pure instinct since, once again, he had no idea how to handle children. although she would probably also start crying if he didn’t listen to her, so he reluctantly bent down to pick her up, holding her close to the side of his chest and nervously awaiting her next move.

she was motionless for a minute with a little hand on her chubby cheek and the other trying to clutch onto the thick leather of his jacket, eyes darting around like she was seeing the world from a new perspective for the first time even though he was a hundred percent certain wade held her like his when they are the same height.

“kitty!”

“what?”

she pointed at the top of his head, his hair tuffs specifically, and reached out to pull on one of them curiously.

“no— not a kitty!” he’s never going to escape that fucking nickname, he wouldn’t be surprised if his roommate taught her to say that before she met him in person, able to perfectly envision wade crouching in front of her with a stupid picture of him on his phone and training her to say “kitty” every time she saw his photo by rewarding her with candy or something since there is no way she associated someone who looks like him to a kitten so quickly unironically.

“no kitty?”

“no— logan, lo-gan.”

she tried to pronounce his name a few times before giving up after getting stuck in the second syllable, blowing a raspberry and going back to what she was doing earlier— finding the most fun in tugging on his cowlicks like she was trying to figure out if he naturally woke up like that with the inability to brush them down or styled them with gel every day.

he sat down on the couch, the cushion sinking under his heavyweight, and sat your daughter down on his lap instead, except she didn’t want to sit down. standing on his lap and pressing her little feet into his thighs, she began to climb onto his shoulder like he was a jungle gym, using his arms as stepping stones to reach her destination while he bent over at the waist to allow her to crawl onto his back without falling behind him.

“you’re like a little lemur,” he muttered, still in slight shock that this kid seemed to like him and wasn’t freaking out like he was the big bad wolf. he wouldn’t admit it, but it was a really nice feeling that gave him a sense of normalcy like he was just some guy rather than the killing machine mutant most knew him as. she wouldn’t stop giggling and holding onto him, which made him feel his ice-cold heart melting like snow by spring’s first touch. 

all the while, he could hear you and wade chatting away in the background: something about him needing to step away from the stove, how you needed to trust him because him starting “that fire” was a one-time thing, what was for dessert, and then taking a sharp turn when the conversation suddenly shifted to the topic of the father.

he felt somewhat guilty about listening in, but he knew that deadpool was going to tell him eventually, so there wasn’t really any harm in a bit of eavesdropping (besides, it would have been difficult to ignore considering that your baby was being very well-behaved and his hearing wouldn’t have been able to pick up on anything else.)

“so… any news about her dad?” the solemn tone of a man who was hardly ever serious a day of his life was more terrifying than anything he’d ever witnessed in his long life.

“... he suddenly wants to be a family man, i guess…”

“what the hell does that even mean?”

the sound of a knife chopping vegetables against a wooden surface slowly came to a stop followed by a sigh. “like he wants to have a family… just not with the one he already started… he’s busy planning his wedding with the girl he cheated on me with and told me not to contact him again for any reason.”

“oh my god, what an asshole! fuck that guy!”

“i can’t believe that was the guy i thought i was going to spend the rest of my life with, could you imagine? i don’t even know what i could have done wrong for him to be like this— i asked him so many times and he just said that he’s ‘fallen out of love,’ has ‘moved on,’ and that i would ‘be cruel’ to ask him to stay even if it was for the sake of our child…”

“well if it’s any comfort, he would have been on the next episode of forensic files the second i got a moment alone with him— i mean, the last time we saw him, he literally pushed his own daughter away when she tried to hug him! what kind of sociopath wouldn’t adore such a cutie patootie, especially his own flesh and blood?! ”

“it’s fine,” you hissed, gritting your teeth at the memory. “it’s not like he’s done anything to deserve getting to be called a father to an angel anyway, i’ll take care of her myself— wait… didn’t i also invite your new roommate? did he not come?”

“no, he’s in the living room, he’s been here this entire time,” he informed, taking a bite out of an apple like an asshole from a film.

“and you didn’t tell me?!!!” you quickly ran into the said area, finding logan and your daughter together on the couch. “hi! oh, i’m so sorry i didn’t come to greet you properly— and left my daughter for you to look after too— god, i’m just a terrible host!” you tilted your head, “what’s your name?”

he then realized he was staring which was rather impolite, mouth slightly agape too like a fish out of water which left a few seconds of awkward silence in between. “i-i’m logan,” he managed to sputter, “nice to meet you..”

wade raised a nonexistent eyebrow at his strange mannerisms before a wide, shit-eating grin split his face. 

“aww, baby, why are you bothering this poor old man— come to mommy, it’s dinnertime,” you clapped your hands and held them out fully expecting her to reach out and grab onto you as she usually does, but instead she looked up at you with big pleading eyes and held onto him even more tightly like a koala clinging to a branch. “oh, did you get attached already? you really are my daughter… logan, could you do me a favor and put her in her high chair while i plate everything?”

“yes, of course.”

you turned back into the kitchen, leaving the two men to follow with one holding your baby in his arms. all it took was one look to understand what he was thinking, logan didn’t need to be a telepath to know. 

“if you don’t shut the fuck up—”

“i didn’t even say anything!”

“good, keep it that way.”

love at first sight, wade has seen it plenty of times and understands it well, something so unpredictable and powerful, that it could bring the wolverine down on his knees. it’s even more potent when he trips over himself seeing you in your natural environment instead of all dressed up for a first date, slightly sweaty from the heat radiating off the stove, unkempt hair sticking to the sides of your face, no makeup or defenses up— just you as yourself to the core.

“alright, bub, let's get you seated…” it took a few tries to get her in because she refused to align her little legs into the holes of the plastic piece, but she eventually got into it just fine and he pulled up his own chair to watch you place a one of the most decadent plates of pasta with chunks of salmon he’s ever seen in front of him with a word of gratitude. 

“sorry it isn’t anything special, i completely forgot that i arranged this in the first place….”

“oh, no, it’s perfect—”

“you’re damn right ‘it’s perfect!’” wade interjected, “lemme tell you, wolvie, this simple plate of pasta is better than sex, i know damn well you’ve never tasted anything like it in all your two-hundred years!”

“well, now that you say it like that, he’s going to have high expectations and it will taste like ass compared to the actual best pasta dish he’s ever had.”

“he likes ass, don’t worry—”

the said man cleared his throat to steer the conversation back around, feeling the foreign sensation of embarrassment burning his face hit him at full force. “it’s delicious, thank you, truly the best i’ve ever tasted.”

“aw, you don’t have to say that.”

“no, he’s right, i think you really outdid yourself this time!”

the dinner was carried by cheerful conversations and fun stories, and despite just meeting you today, logan almost felt like he knew you for years and this was something a commonplace tradition between loved ones which was something he’s been yearning for for as long as he can remember. as he watches you laugh and feed your adorable baby, he can’t help but wonder about the idiotic man who was willing to throw away something so wonderful— something which would complete his life and fill the void in his heart.

“well, you two can hang around while i clean her up and put her to bed. there’s some wine and beer in—” you watched as deadpool had already opened your fridge and was digging around like a raccoon in trash before fishing out two bottles of beers and closing the door with his hips. “alrighty then, i’ll join you two in a bit.”

he watched as you disappeared into the hallway before diving headfirst into the couch next to the wolverine and handing him his beer, kicking his feet and smiling as if he was a middle-schooler at an all girls’ sleepover. “okay, so she has a solid job as an accountant, has her own place and car, is funny and pretty, but most importantly for you, single. she doesn’t like flowers as gifts, but if you gift her groceries or cleaning supplies—”

“she wouldn’t want an asshole like me,” he grunted, taking a sip from the bottle. “not when she just got free from another one.”

“peanut, i met the other guy, you’re infinitely better than him! as much as i would like to keep you to myself, i have already planned out my speech at your wedding as your best man, so just keep in mind that i’m your wingman, okay? don’t lie to me either, i know you have a little crush, and i think she does too—”

“no, she doesn’t.”

“quit cutting me off, you motherfucker!”

it was easier to try and suppress the sprouting seed of infatuation before it bloomed out of control. he didn’t want to hurt you or himself by chasing something that shouldn’t be in the first place. you deserve better, you and your daughter. you both should have someone who was younger and had the energy to be a good father and husband, not some old mutant who was freeloading off of his roommate and terrified of losing more people he cared about. if you knew about the blood on his hands and the claws embedded in them, you would probably be worried that you allowed him to hold your baby and shun him permanently. 

and yet he was already attached, sitting here imagining domestic life where he could see her grow up through the phases of life and help her navigate its complexities while also waking up next to you in his arms and seeing your beautiful smile everyday. 

maybe he won’t let that glimmer of hope die out and just hold onto it for a little while longer, allowing it to leave a little lingering smile on his weary face.

[madschiavelique]

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance

summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues

content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh

word count : 5,4k

author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.

proofread by the lovely @yaffles-world

masterlist : here ．．discord : here ．．playlist : here

taglist : @doctorho

For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.

The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.

When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.

He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.

In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.

The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.

“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”

Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.

When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.

He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.

“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”

Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.

“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”

You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.

“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”

Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”

You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.

“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”

“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”

“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”

You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?

“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”

He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.

The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?

“The evolution of Zaun's power?”

Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”

“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.

“Any questions?”

Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”

Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.

Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?

“Miss?”

The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.

“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”

He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.

You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.

“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?” you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.

“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.

You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”

His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.

“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”

A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.

He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”

“So you think I'm weak ?”

But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.

You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.

“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.

You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.

“Do I disgust you?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.

If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.

When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.

“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”

He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.

“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.

He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.

“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.

As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.

He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.

Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.

You had to be flawless, you had to.

Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.

The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:

Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.

The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.

What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.

You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.

It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.

There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.

You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:

“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”

With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.

You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”

“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.

“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”

He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.

“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”

You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.

“Why?”

The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.

He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”

You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.

You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”

“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”

You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.

You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”

“Be my guess.”

Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”

He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”

You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.

“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”

He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”

You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.

“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”

He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.

“How do I bother you?”

You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.

“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.

He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.

“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”

You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.

“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”

You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.

“You want an honest answer ?”

He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.

“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”

It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.

He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.

Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.

“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”

“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”

Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.

“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.

“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“Like what?”

You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.

“Better than me.”

He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.

“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”

He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.

“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”

You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.

“Running.”

He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.

“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”

“No it's-”

“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”

“I never-”

“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”

“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”

“With such a statement ? Never.”

“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.

He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.

“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.

“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.

“As if you could reach me.”

“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.

However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.

“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”

“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”

“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”

“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.

“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”

You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.

“None of the books mention Tytos.”

“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”

Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.

“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.

You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”

“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.

You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.

“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.

‘I'm sure that I-”

“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.

He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.

This one, however, was not about to give way.

You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.

“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”

This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence. 

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing. 

Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.

It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you. 

When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.

“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.

All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.

You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.

You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals. 

You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.

However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked: 

“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”

Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.

But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.

“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”

A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.

He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.

“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”

But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.

He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.

Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.

“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”

You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.

“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.

But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.

You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.

‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.

He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.

"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.

Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.

“Everyone in my office, now.”

You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks. You recognised him now, the student from the museum, the one that had called zaunites rats.

"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.

You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.

"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.

If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.

"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’

He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.

"... My friend protected me."

Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.

The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case: 

"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."

Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.

"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.

"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.

"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.

"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"

You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say: 

"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."

Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.

"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.

"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."

"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.

"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"

Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Good, see you on Monday, then."

The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.

"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"

Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.

"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."

He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.

You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.

Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.

“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.

You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”

"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.

You didn't even turn to him.

"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."

You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.

"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"

He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.

"We're not friends." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."

But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?

You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.

"See you next week."

Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.

Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.

“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.

You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.

You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.

You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.

But you respected him.

Could you be friends with him?

The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.

You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.

Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.

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[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter eight ⭐︎ Say my name and everything just stops

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact! jealousy, angst, low self-esteem (kinda?), mentions of the upside down. weed and alcohol consumption. I will not spoiler anything here, so read with caution

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You blindly began to follow your feelings, hanging onto a hope that died just as quickly as it came.

Word count: 10k+

Author's note: @hellfire--cult and I came up with this whole idea and we kept talking about this moment for weeks and now its finally here, I hope you guys are gonna enjoy it as much as we did hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

The spring wind blows through the open windows in your room, touching your skin and slightly lifting the ends of your new dress. The smell of vanilla and the floral scent of your perfume lingers in the air. You’re leaning closer to your mirror as you apply your favorite gloss to your lips. 

A tingling, exciting feeling bubbles in your stomach, your heart jumping every few seconds or so at the thought of seeing him today. 

Steve’s reactions were everything you were hoping for when you teased him at the diner and in his car, yesterday. His blushing cheeks and the wide, darkened eyes filled you with victory after you had placed a kiss upon his flushed skin. You are still not sure what had caused you the sudden rush of courage, but you’re glad that it hit you because the way he looked at you, the way he reacted, the way his breath hitched in his throat finally gave you the last push to do what you had always wanted to do. Today, you’re finally going to give in to your feelings. 

The nervous, insecure part of you is telling you that there is still a big chance that he might reject you, that you will ruin this thing between you both by making the final move. 

And usually that weak part of your mind would win, it would fill you with enough humiliating images to pull back, to make you rethink your decision, to keep you hiding in the shadows, the way you always did. 

But you’re no longer letting it win. 

You will do this, even if you might lose your dignity. 

Placing the lip gloss back on your vanity, you reach for your favorite necklace, and put it on. You touch up your hair one last time, fixing your bangs before you take a step back, eying the red and white sundress, the little bows on the straps, the dainty flowers on the material, the shortness of it that exposes enough of your skin to drive him crazy… you hope. 

‘Just make your move, babe. Do you really think King Steve would reject you?’

Your smile falls a little when Billy’s voice echoes in your mind. 

Every memory of your best friend brings a hurtful pang to your heart. 

He was the only one who knew about your feelings for Steve and surprisingly he kept encouraging you to ask him out, to make your move. 

Would he be proud of you now? 

Or would he still make fun of you for liking someone like Steve? 

You step away from the mirror and walk over to the window, closing it before you leave your room and make your way downstairs. Eddie isn’t picking you up for once, even though he called you three times already, asking if he should come pick you up and if you’re truly feeling good enough to drive yourself again – you are. The headaches are gone, the dizziness is gone too. All that is left are the nightmares and the sudden rushes of anxiety but you are okay, you feel okay. 

You walk over to the dresser in your hallway, reaching inside the key bowl to retrieve your car keys when something else catches your eye. The one single key, lying in there, you reach for it, furrowing your brows as you trace your finger along the metal, letting it fall in your palm. 

You still remember the day when Max had showed up at your house, asking for you to take Billy’s car before Neil would destroy it in a moment of rage. 

‘He’d want you to have it anyway.’ She said as she handed you the keys. 

You remember how you broke down crying the moment you got into the driver's seat. You missed your best friend and it felt so wrong to sit in the place that once belonged to him. 

You got the windshield fixed and anything else that needed to be repaired, before you parked it in your garage, planning to never open the gate again and just leave the car there until Max would ask for it back. And, you did leave it there, for a few weeks at least. 

Your car broke down on a hot Friday afternoon and the mechanic at the local shop told you that it would take a few weeks to get it fixed. You walked and used the bus for a few days, and then the rain and the storms crashed upon Hawkins, giving you no choice but to take the blue Camaro.

Max even joked about it, she told you that it was Billy who caused your car to break down and who somehow let it rain and storm over the town so you would finally take his beloved car out for a ride because it’s just too pretty to be hidden and locked away in a dark, cold garage.

You’d sometimes drive around at night, when the streets were empty and no one was around. 

When you visited your sister in Indianapolis, you took his car. 

But now it’s been a while, the last time you sat behind that steering wheel was right before the apocalypse almost hit the town. 

A sigh falls from your lips as you stare at the key. 

“Not today,” you murmur as you place it back where it laid before and reach for your keys. 

The drive to Eddie’s new place isn’t a long one, he only lives a few streets away from you now, it would only be a ten minute walk but you desperately waited for the moment when you could finally drive again, and you didn’t want to pass up on the opportunity today. 

You missed this, sitting behind the steering wheel, instead of the passenger seat, longing to be the one in control. You missed picking the music yourself – not that Eddie’s music taste is a bad one, you just need a mix of everything, not just rock and heavy metal, sometimes you just need a girly pop song – not that you would ever admit it to him. 

When you arrive at your destination and you pull up to Eddie’s driveway, you notice that Steve’s car isn’t there yet. Only Jonathan’s car is parked next to Eddie’s Impala. 

Steve is never late, yesterday being the first time that he was the last one to arrive, so he is either still waiting for Robin or… running late is his new thing. 

“There she is!” Eddie chuckles as opens the front door at the same time as you get out of your car, “and she’s here in one piece!” 

A laugh tumbles from your lips as you close the door and lock your car before you make your way over to him, eying the new shirt he’s wearing – which is just another band tee that you have never heard of before. His curly hair up in a bun and a can of beer in his hand.

“I’m a good driver, what are you talking about, Eds?”

He furrows his brows, lips curling into an amused smile, “are you?” 

You walk up the steps to his porch, greeting him with an eye roll, “you know what, next time I’ll pick you up.”

He smirks, using his index finger to point at your car. 

“What, with your baby Mustang over there?” 

You squint your eyes at him, “nope, I’ll take the hidden gem in my garage.” 

“Wait what… What hidden gem?” 

“You’ll find out,” you wink at him, trying to brush past him when he stops you, placing his hand on your arm, he pulls you back softly. 

“Wait.”

You raise your brows at him, “yes?” 

He’s got the twinkle in his eyes, the one he always has when he’s happy about something. His lip twitches, pale cheeks slowly changing color, he’s barely able to contain his excitement as he bounces on his feet.

“Guess who scored a date?” 

Your eyes widen, lips parting as you remember the pretty waitress from the diner. 

Eddie is blushing, lips now curling into a full smile. 

“Oh my god, really?” You ask as a grin appears on your face. 

“Yeah! I’m gonna take her out tomorrow night, I can’t fucking wait, sweets.” He says with a dreamy look in his eyes. “She was so sweet a-and fuck… she’s gorgeous, don’t know how she said yes to me.” 

You frown at him, reaching your hand out to pinch his cheek, “you’re a handsome, sweet boy, Edward, now shush. You’re gonna knock her off her feet. Any girl would be lucky to have you.” 

His eyes soften, he rubs the back of his neck before his fingers trace the scar on the side – you know that it’s now an insecurity of his, just like it is one of yours. Scars litter your skin from where a bat had left a gnarly wound on the back of your shoulder, from where Jason had hurt you, from where he had left reminders for you that he was the one who did this to you. 

But your scars aren’t nearly half as bad as all the ones on his skin. 

“I’ve never been on a date before,” he murmurs, eyes flashing with doubt. 

“So? It’s gonna be even more special then,” you shrug.

“I just don’t wanna mess it up.” 

“You won’t,” you smile at him, “you’ve got that special charm, one that makes others like you right away, you’re funny and you’re sweet, now stop doubting yourself or I’ll kick your ass and hunt down every asshole who ever made you feel otherwise.” 

He chuckles at your words, though his eyes are still soft as he looks at you. He doesn’t doubt you, he knows that you would actually hunt down every name on the list of people who hurt him. 

“Got it?” 

“Got it.”

“Good,” you say, sternly.

“Good,” he nods. 

You stare at each other for a moment before you both burst into giggles. He wraps his arm around your shoulder and he pulls you inside his house, narrowing his eyes as he takes in your dress.

“Who’d you dress up for, sweets?” He asks, “there’s no hot guys here.” 

“Well, aren’t you humble?” 

“No hot guys besides me, of course,” he corrects himself after clearing his throat, smirking at you. 

You only shake your head in response. 

You pass by the kitchen and the big shelf that was specifically customized for Wayne’s mug collection. Vinyls are on the walls in the long hallway that leads to the living room where you hear the chatter of your friends and the faint music that sounds through the house. 

The smell of weed already lingering in the air. 

The sound of Nancy’s giggle, followed by a voice you hadn’t heard in a while makes you furrow your brows.

“Argyle is back?” 

Your surprised voice along with the wide eyes you look at him with make him chuckle. He knew you weren’t paying attention when he told you about it days back. You were too distracted by whatever daydream you were stuck in as he let both you and Steve know that Argyle was coming back to spend the summer in Hawkins before going off to college in September – something that Eddie definitely won’t be doing, he won’t be going to college, he won’t be going anywhere, at least not now, not yet, maybe not ever, even though it’s all he ever wanted. 

He walked the stupid stage, he snatched his diploma and he finally flipped Higgins the bird, despite the glares, despite the whispers of the people who still blamed him for what had happened weeks back but it doesn’t matter, he tells himself. It doesn’t matter what they say or think because he got people who believed him, people who care about him, people who were willing to fight for him, people who are worth staying for. 

“Yeah, he’s here the whole summer.” 

“Ooh, means we’re gonna get high a lot, cool,” you giggle. 

“Like we don’t do that all that time,” Eddie rolls his eyes, though a smile tugs at his lips as he pushes towards the living room, your feet carrying you closer and closer to your friends. 

Despite Steve not being here yet, you already feel the rush of excitement mixed with the nervousness of what you plan on doing, flushing through your veins. 

Your eyes first fall on Jonathan and Nancy who are standing by the door that leads out into Eddie’s backyard, his arm wrapped around her shoulder, a smile tugging at her lips when she sees you. 

“Hi!” She waves at you, a friendly look on her face. 

“Hey,” you smile at her before you look over at her boyfriend, greeting him as well. You then turn your head to your right, your smile widening when your eyes meet Argyle’s already very dazed ones.

He stands up from his seat on the couch, his hair falling in front of his face a little, he opens his arms, revealing his Bob Marley shirt to you. 

“Well look at what the cat dragged in,” he jokes as he steps towards you, “come here, chica.” 

You chuckle, leaving Eddie’s side to greet Argyle, who instantly pulls you into a tight hug. The smell of weed enveloping you, right away.

“I didn’t know you’d be back so soon!” 

“So soon?” He slurs, patting your head when you pull back again, chuckling when you swat his hand away. “You didn’t miss me?” He jokes as he wraps his arm around your shoulder, just the way Eddie did before, he pulls something out of his pocket, handing it to you, “here, got you a little gift from California.” 

Your eyes lighten up in amusement, a smile tugging at your lips as you look at the blunt he’s holding, you take it, holding it up as you look up at him with a grin, “why thanks.” 

“You gotta share that one with me,” Jonathan grins at you, lazily. 

“You’ve had enough already,” Nancy rolls her eyes, though not without a smile on her lips. She pats his chest, “come on, let’s go outside.” 

“Yeah, you guys go ahead, I’m gonna grab some more drinks,” Eddie says before he leaves the living room. 

You all step out into the backyard, walking over to the little fire pit where the flames are already glowing, surrounded by the comfortable seats. The sound of water flowing from the stream filling the air with a fresh scent, the smell of flowers and the trees giving you a sense of peace. 

Eddie’s backyard is comforting and nice, despite being close to the forest, it’s making you feel safe. He wouldn’t have this now if he hadn’t been dragged into a world of darkness – unlike you, he didn’t grow up in wealth, he didn’t have a fancy house, a fancy backyard with a pool. No. Eddie grew up in a lonesome house, one that certainly wasn’t as luxurious as yours or the one he lives in now. The house he grew up in was haunted by painful memories of his mother that he lost at a way too young age and his father who came and went as he pleased, it was the only thing that he had, the only thing he called his own, but that was taken from him too and he had no choice but to move in with his Uncle Wayne, who had done everything to give him a home – and now, Eddie gave him that back, he gave Wayne a home, a nice house with a nice roof over his head, a garden that he always wanted to have. Eddie had tried to keep the upside down a secret, he didn’t want to talk about what was out there, he didn’t want to worry him, he didn’t want to tell him where all the money actually came from but Wayne isn’t stupid and Eddie isn’t exactly the best at keeping secrets from the people he loves and cares about. 

You wonder what you would have told your parents if they were still here – would you have told them the truth about what actually happened at the Creel house? Or would you have kept it all a secret? You are certainly much better at keeping secrets hidden. Eddie couldn’t even look Wayne in the eyes when he told him that the bite marks on his skin came from a rabid dog and not from interdimensional bats. 

Something cold touches your shoulder, making you flinch in surprise. You tilt your head up, meeting the eyes of your best friend again, “where’s your head at, sweets?” He chuckles, holding the can of diet pepsi out to you. 

With furrowed brows, you look down at the drink and reach for it, “thanks,” you murmur, “and uh, nowhere. I’m just fascinated by your backyard.” 

His dimples show when a laugh escapes him, he takes a seat beside you, snatching away the blunt from your lap, he places it between his lips and uses his red lighter to light it up. He lets out a content sigh as he leans back, puffing out the smoke into the sky before he takes a look around, “it’s nice isn’t it?” 

You nod, pulling the tab on your pepsi, it opens with a pop. 

“It’s better than mine.” 

He turns his head to look at you, a bewildered look on his face, “you’re crazy, sweets. You got a pool.”

“You got one too!” You chuckle, pointing to the pool that has yet to be used, it’s warm out, not hot yet. 

“Yeah, well yours is fucking huge, and you got a hot tub too!” 

“You got a hot tub, chica?” Argyle gasps from your right, “oh, you’re rich rich.” 

“Correction, my parents were rich.” 

“Correction, we’re all rich now,” Jonathan adds, pointing at you with a dazed smile. 

“Rich isn’t exactly the term I would use,” Nancy mumbles as she takes a sip of her soda. 

“Then what term would you use, Wheeler?” Eddie asks, shaking his head at her, “enlighten us.” 

Nancy clears her throat, placing her elbow on the wooden armrest, “we’re taken care of.” 

Jonathan snorts, putting his hand on her thigh as he gives her an amused smile, while she already rolls her eyes at whatever is about to leave his mouth – there’s no annoyance behind her eyes though, no tension in her body from where he touched her, unlike with Steve, who she always looked tense and irritated with. Back then you didn’t understand why, there were so many questions in your mind when you watched them and when she left him – how could anyone be irritated with Steve? How could anyone be tense with someone that provides so much love and warmth to the people he so deeply cares about? How could she leave him? How could she break his heart? Who could ever hurt Steve Harrington? 

“Just admit it, we’re rich.” 

A groan echoes through the backyard, one that doesn’t belong to Eddie, Nancy or anyone else sitting in the circle. You all turn your heads towards the house, finding a very annoyed Robin making her way over to you, a six pack of beers in her hand, sunglasses perched on her nose even though the sun is starting to go down already. 

Eddie isn’t surprised at her barging into his home, she does it all the time, to him, to you, to Steve, he doesn’t mind it though. 

You straighten your back, holding your drink tighter as you look away from her, waiting for Steve to walk through the door. 

The feelings inside of you start to rise again, your heart picking up the pace as your skin starts burning from the excitement.

Robin plops down in the seat next to Eddie, placing the beers on the ground as she slumps back, sighing loudly. 

Everyone’s watching her, expecting a rant already but you’re still fixated on the door, waiting for him. 

“Buckley, why so angry?” 

She pulls her sunglasses up into her hair, turning to face him, “I’m glad you asked,” she murmurs as she reaches for one of the beers, “Dingus ditched me, so I had to walk all the way here!” She throws her arms up dramatically. 

You furrow your brows at her words, the burning on your skin beginning to die down just as fast as it came. 

Argyle and Jonathan chuckle at her. 

“You live 3 blocks away from here…” Nancy mumbles. 

“Not the point, Nance,” she argues, glaring at her friend. 

“Wait, so Steve isn’t coming?” Jonathan slurs. 

Your eyes are wide and hopeful, your hand clutching the can tighter as you dig your feet into the grass beneath you, a weird feeling settling in the pit of your stomach. 

“Wetting his dick with Heidi seems more fucking important today,” she grumbles, rolling her eyes as she raises the beer to her lips. 

Your heart drops. 

The burning in your skin disappears completely as the fire is replaced by ice, the coldness of it freezing your whole body, stopping your heart and taking the false hope away as it kills every feeling that had taken home inside of you just seconds ago. 

Your eyes are stuck on her like you’re waiting, waiting for her to laugh and say it was a joke, that he will be here soon, that he isn’t out with some other girl after what happened between you and him yesterday. 

“Whoa, what?” Eddie mumbles, holding his hands up, “so… he’s on a date with the girl he didn’t want to keep seeing?” 

“Yep.”

Every ounce of excitement is now replaced by the sickness in your stomach, the lump in your throat that makes you struggle to breathe. 

What were you thinking? 

That the game you played wasn't just a game to him? That it was something more than that? That he wanted you just the way you always wanted him? That he could ever feel something for you? 

You don’t know whether you want to laugh at yourself or cry. 

How saddening it is to long for someone who was forced to like you. 

While you were getting ready, making yourself look pretty for him, thinking that he might like you in this dress – he was getting ready to take out another girl, a girl that he chose to like. 

You slowly slump back in your seat when Eddie’s laughter pulls you back into reality. You blink, masking the shocked, pained look on your face with a relaxed one as you take a sip of your drink, hoping that it will get rid of the lump sitting in your throat – it doesn’t. Nothing does. 

Your friends move on to another topic, while you stay there, where you will stay for a while now. The pain of the rejection that has never even taken place, slowly sinking in and everything around you begins to suffocate you – the dress you are wearing, the necklace around your neck, even the presence of your friends. 

You don’t want to be here any longer, you need to be alone. 

But you can’t go, not now, not yet. 

It would be too soon, too obvious and they can’t know, no one can know about your feelings for Steve, about how much it hurts to feel that way for him. 

So you hide the pain as best as you can, you nod along to your friends' conversation, you speak and you laugh when you have to, even when everything inside of you wants you to cry both out of sadness and anger. 

You’re not even angry at him, you couldn’t be angry at him even if you tried to be. He doesn’t know about your feelings – if he did, he wouldn’t have filled you with false hope, you know he wouldn’t. 

He wouldn’t string you along, you know he’s not the type of person to do something like that, not even to you. But you really thought that you had something, that there was something between you, that’s why you let your walls crumble, that’s why you started acting upon your feelings, that’s why you were ready to do more than just the subtle touches and the flirtations. 

You wait, you wait for the right moment to leave, when everyone is distracted enough, you get up, after whispering an apology, a lie into Eddie’s ear, knowing that he doesn’t believe you, that he will probably call you later or even show up to check on you. But he lets you go. 

And as you leave your friends, making your way back into the house, their laughter echoes in your ears, their happy voices and the cheerfulness they’re all feeling, that you were supposed to feel too. 

You blink back the tears, not wanting them to fall just yet. 

You make your way back to your car, not wasting a second to start it and drive home, your vision blurred and your throat hurting from how much you want to cry. 

How foolish it was of you to think that you could ever stand a chance – there was never one to begin with. You will always be the one in the shadows, the one to secretly watch him, the one to secretly want him, the one with the jealousy and the heartache, the one wishing to be anyone but herself because maybe then, he would want you too. 

The smell of smoke from the campfire is now lingering on your clothes and in your hair, tears are now falling freely, ruining the makeup that you have spent hours on, the makeup that you can’t wait to wash off now. 

You don’t even want to think about him. 

You don’t want to ask yourself what he’s doing now. 

He touched you so softly, so subtly, and yet it did everything to set your insides on fire, to make you feel special, even if only for a short moment. 

Now he is touching someone else, in far more special ways. 

A frustrated sigh falls from your lips when you step inside your home, it’s cold and empty, something that you have felt like for a very long time until he started the fire inside of you, only to make it die again… and all without his knowledge. 

You walk up the stairs and past your room, going straight into the bathroom, feeling the need to wash away the day, as though it could ease the aching in your chest. You start the shower before you turn to the sink, not even bothering to look at your reflection in the mirror, it would only make you feel more pathetic. 

You can feel the hot tears rolling down your cheeks, the quivering in your bottom lip. 

You hate this, you hate the sadness that you shouldn’t be feeling in the first place. 

You got no reason to be sad, you should have put your feelings aside, knowing that nothing would ever come out of it. 

It was all so obvious, it was just teasing, nothing more, nothing less. Nothing ever happened, so why would it happen now? He just found another way of messing with you, so that you two wouldn’t go at each other's throats like before.

You just have to go back. No more teasing like this. No more letting yourself get sucked into delusions. He is just having fun while you crave something more with him and get hopeful. 

You aren’t having fun. You wanted more.

You have no choice but to go back to how you were before this… thing started. 

Once your makeup is off and your dress is now laying on the bathroom floor, you step inside the shower, letting the warmth envelope you, hoping for a sense of comfort from it. 

Standing there for a moment, you let the water rain upon your skin, matching the pace of your tears that you’re willing away. 

You will hunt Billy in the afterlife for making you believe that King Steve could ever want you. 

You use your scented shampoo, hoping that it will get rid of the smell of smoke in your hair. You love campfire’s but you can’t stand the stench it leaves on your clothes and your hair. 

Your hands run over your smooth skin as you wash your body, reminding you of the fact that you even shaved this morning – you couldn’t feel more stupid than you do right now. 

Despite the loudness of your own voice cursing at you inwardly and the water hitting the glass, you hear the sound of your doorbell going off – multiple times. 

“What the fuck,” you murmur in confusion. 

It keeps ringing again and again – once, twice and it stops after a third time before it turns into rapid knocking. 

You know it isn’t Eddie, he wouldn’t even have the patience to ring your doorbell and wait for you to open, he’d just barge right in. 

You’d choose to ignore it if the person outside wasn’t so goddamn persistent. 

You turn off the shower, squeezing the water from your hair before you get out, and wrap a towel around your body. The mirror is fogged, as the rest of the room is, you open the door and step out into the hallway, that now feels colder than before. 

The knocking continues, filling you with anger. 

Who shows up at night, knocking like a mad man? 

Maybe you shouldn’t make your way downstairs now, maybe you shouldn’t open the door to whoever it is on the other side. It could be anyone or anything but you doubt that Vecna came back from the dead to knock on doors now and hunt you of all people – he could have done that weeks back, you went through enough trauma, he could have easily chosen you but even he didn’t want you. 

You rip open the door, ready to curse and yell at whoever is terrorizing you at this hour but every word gets caught in your throat and even your breathing halts for a second as your glassy eyes meet the hazel ones that you have been missing all day. Frustration and anger swirling inside them, blazing fire raging behind his eyes. His cheeks are slightly flushed, his chest rising up and down heavily as he stands on your porch, looking better than ever. 

“Steve?” His name tumbles out of your mouth before you can stop it as you stare at him in confusion. 

He eyes you up and down, taking in the sight of your exposed skin that is still dripping with water before he clenches his jaw, raising his hand to run his fingers through his hair, tugging at it. 

Steve Harrington is fucked. He is utterly fucked. You have cursed him in every way possible, he can’t get you out of his mind, he can’t get you out of his system and the thought that you were only playing with him drove him insane. His hunger for you made him desperate, desperate for release. 

So in his state of frustration and desperation, he called up Heidi, thinking that a date and sex with a girl he had been with before would help him move on and stop thinking about you but who was he fooling. He couldn’t even kiss her when she leaned in to greet him with her lips, he dodged her. He couldn’t even listen to the things she was telling him after they ordered their drinks. He couldn’t care less about her. All he could think about was you. All he wanted was you. He wanted your lips to kiss him, he wanted your hands to touch him, he wanted your body under his and the more he thought about it, the more he stopped caring about a possible humiliation after he’d finally make a move on you, he needed you, and he needed to try – if you’d reject him, then so be it, at least he would know and not live with the what if’s in his head. 

He canceled the date in the middle of it, not caring about how messed up that was. He drove her home and without a second thought, he drove here, he came to you. 

And now, you’re standing in front of him, in nothing but a towel, water rolling down your soft skin, big eyes filled with confusion, lips parted, lips that he wants to kiss until he grows breathless. 

The sight in front of him does little to make any of this easier for him. You look like you’ve just walked out of one the dreams he had about you. 

“You gotta be kidding me,” he murmurs under his breath, surprising you when he invites himself into your home, brushing past you with an intensity that almost knocks you off your feet. 

You blink, turning around abruptly, a bewildered look replacing your confused one. 

As you take in the sight of him, your sadness begins to dissolve as the anger you started to miss floods through your veins the longer you look at him. 

You slam the door shut when the wind causes goosebumps to rise on your skin, you hold the towel tighter against your body as you glare at him, “what the fuck?”

“I have to be the one to say that!” He argues.

“Excuse me?” You scoff, your face now burning with rage. Every second that passes now makes you forget about the tears you just shed over him, irritation sparking inside of you so wildly that you want nothing more than to kick him out of your house for behaving that way towards you for no reason. “Weren’t you on a date with… Heidi?” 

Steve clenches his jaw at the mocking voice, at the smirk now tugging on your lips. He chuckles, though not in amusement, he points a finger at you, “see, that’s what I’m fucking talking about!”

Your brows knit together at his outburst, the fire in his eyes growing stronger and bigger. 

“Harrington, if you came to yell nonesense at me, just fucking leave!” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, making your way back towards the stairs. 

But his scoff stops you. 

“Oh, so you keep running away huh!? Didn’t you already get over that!?” 

You turn around with nothing but anger boiling inside of you, “running away!? From what!?”

This should have been enough to make him turn around and leave, because clearly nothing changed, clearly this is still just a game to you – but he has hope, and he is desperate enough to throw every bit of his dignity away and risk something. 

“Oh, don’t play fucking dumb right now. Acting like that for two weeks and pretending to be stupid is not a good look on you, Blondie.” 

You take in a sharp breath, digging your fingers into your towel as you frown at him. 

What does he want from you? 

Why did he come here? 

Was the date so bad, was the sex so awful that he had to come here to torture you? 

Without another word, you turn around and you stomp up the stairs, not wanting to see him, not wanting to hear his voice anymore. 

Your heart starts pounding in your chest again, and you can’t help but wonder – did he figure you out? Did he figure out your feelings? Is that why he is here? To confront you about them? To reject you?

You feel more and more stupid about what you had wanted to do when you woke up this morning. 

Just when your feet carry you up to the second floor, and you rush across the hallway to walk into your room, his footsteps echo behind you, making you more irritated than before. You turn around to face him, but before you can even say anything, Steve is suddenly right in front of you, and his hands reach out to grab your waist, he pushes you against the wall behind you, gently, careful not to hurt you. 

The gasp that falls from your lips startles you. His hands that touch the only thing that covers your body leaving your skin on fire. Your heart rate picks up so rapidly that it nearly steals your breath away. You look up into his golden brown orbs, the ones that are nearly black as he steps even closer, invading your space completely, making you breathe in the scent of his cologne, the one that has butterflies swirling in your stomach. 

He catches you off guard completely. 

You feel so vulnerable, so exposed as you stand there, caged in by his arms, his breath on your skin, his eyes that are filled with so much hunger. 

The words die on your tongue, and yet, after you breathe in more of his scent, you open your mouth to speak. 

“Shut up, Blondie… Just shut up for a second,” he murmurs, interrupting whatever words you had prepared to lie to him with. 

His right hand leaves your waist, inching closer to your stomach as his fingers trace the hem of your towel, drool already forming in his mouth at the sight of you, he is ready to take you, ready to devour you and make you scream his name before he fucks you for only this time. 

He notices the way your chest is moving, the way your breathing stutters. 

“W-What are you doing, perv?” You stutter as you watch him play with the opening of your towel. 

He can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at your insult. 

“Perv? Are you going to continue to play fucking dumb?” 

“Dumb? You are the dumb one if you think that I’m going to be the one to break into your teasing.” 

Steve’s eyes flash with satisfaction. 

This is what he wanted – to hear you admit that you were playing that game with him after all and not because you were playing him and stringing him along just to turn him down to gain something from it, whatever it might be. No. You were doing just what he was hoping for, all along. 

You want him just as much as he wants you and that’s all he needs to know. 

You roll your eyes at him, turning your head as you try to push your way out of his grasp but before you can even step away from him, his hands stop you but not on your waist this time. His large hands cup your cheeks, making you freeze. You stare at him wide eyed when he brings you closer, and you can’t even react before his whole body is suddenly pressed against yours, your heartbeat lurches into your throat. 

As though his touch wasn’t shocking enough, his next move almost causes you to collapse, because now it isn’t only his body against yours, his hands on your cheeks or his breath on your skin, now it’s his lips… his lips on yours, his lips moving against yours in desperation as he takes every last of your breath and makes it his own. 

You can’t do anything, you can’t move, you can’t breathe, you can’t even blink as you stare at him – how his eyes are closed and his cheeks are flushed, the furrowed brows as he kisses you with a kind of passion no one has ever kissed you with before. 

Steve is kissing you. 

Steve Harrington is kissing you. 

His lips are moving roughly against yours, his hands holding your cheeks so softly, yet with an intensity. 

This is all you ever wanted, to feel his touch and his lips on yours but you are too stunned to move, too surprised to kiss him back right now, too distracted wondering if this is real or not.

Along with the shock, you feel the slightest bit of insecurity flooding through you because even though he is kissing you, you can’t help but wonder why. Why isn’t he with Heidi? Why isn’t he kissing her right now? Did she turn him down? Did he come here because he just needed someone? Because he knew that you would fall for this? Or is this just another way for him to tease you? 

Those questions prompt you to push him away, forcing him to break the kiss that he was so deeply lost in. 

You notice the way he begrudgingly pulls away, the way he seems so drawn to your lips, the way his brows furrow in confusion now, his face is flushed and his pupils dilated as he looks at you with nothing but desperation in his eyes – he isn’t teasing, he wants you, he wants you right now and isn’t that all that matters? That he wants you?

His eyes stare into yours as he is breathing heavily. A flash of rejection takes over his features and by the look in his eyes, you can tell that he is beginning to get lost in his anxious thoughts – thoughts that you quickly shut down by making the move that he just made. You cup his cheeks and you pull him down, closing your eyes as you slam your lips against his for the very first time. 

Unlike you, he wastes no second to reciprocate the kiss, a sigh of content leaving him as he presses you back against the wall. 

Warmth blooms in your stomach, one that doesn’t stay the same temperature for long because the moment he deepens the kiss, the moment his hands hold you tighter and his knee parts your legs, sliding his thigh in between yours as the kiss gets rougher and rougher, you feel the warmth evolving into a deeper, burning sensation – a fire inside of you that only he can mend. 

You can’t believe that this is happening, that something that you had been craving for years is now here. 

And Steve, he feels his heart pounding in his chest from the rush, from the adrenaline, from his desperation that grows bigger and stronger when he feels just how much you want him as your lips move roughly with his. 

You're hesitant with your touch, but when he grabs your face and pulls you even tighter against his body, his thigh pressing stronger against your core, you can’t help but throw your arms around his neck, digging your fingers into the hair that you’ve always wanted to touch. 

You can feel him smirking against your lips when you moan into the kiss, which prompts you to tug at his hair and press your tongue against his bottom lip.

He welcomes it into his mouth so eagerly, his tongue now clashing against yours as his palms slide down to your waist while your hands reach for the front of his shirt, fisting the material tightly as you begin to drag him into your room. 

You both know, you both feel where this is going, what this is leading to – what the past few weeks have been leading to. 

You want this, you need this, you need him, even if just for tonight. 

And you know, you already know that you will be done for, that he will ruin you for anyone else but you couldn’t care less, right now. Especially when he kisses you with so much roughness, everything about this setting all your insides on fire, leaving your skin burning and yet aching for more. 

Steve is careful not to step on your bare feet as you lead him backwards into a different room. Excitement bubbles in his stomach and he grows even more breathless than before, he pulls away and breaks the kiss but doesn’t hesitate to latch his lips onto your neck, kissing and biting your flesh, “I fucking hate you, Blondie. I hate that I want you so much.” 

Your lashes flutter as you close your eyes, tilting your head to the side as you feel your stomach and your heart fluttering at his touch, at his lips on your skin but especially at his words. 

Your knees grow weak and a needy whimper falls from your puffy lips. 

All that echoes in your mind now is I want you. I want you. I want you. 

You don’t even care about the other things he said to you, you only care about the three little words you have only ever dreamt of before. 

You almost fall when you feel the back of your legs hitting your bed, but he keeps you upright, not pushing you down just yet. He keeps nibbling on your neck, kissing, biting, sucking as he breathes heavily against you, growing harder against your stomach. 

“Couldn’t even finish the fucking date, couldn’t do anything cause I kept thinking about you, Blondie,” he speaks into your neck, fingers now dangerously close to your bare skin behind the towel. 

Your heart nearly explodes at his words and you can’t help but sigh in relief, knowing that nothing happened between him and Heidi. And all because of you. 

“You drive me fucking crazy, I want to rip the towel right off–”

“Then do!” You whine, not caring about how eager and desperate you sound, “show me how much you hate me, Stevie.” 

He pulls away from your neck after placing another wet kiss to your skin, strands of your hair getting caught in his as he faces you again, with flushed cheeks and almost black eyes he looks at you and takes in the sight of you, the pout on your lips, the flustered look on your face, big eyes that you are begging him with. 

He doesn’t even bother to look around the room, just caring about the bed behind you. 

He rips the towel off your body, letting it fall to the ground, his hands find your bare waist that he grips tightly as he throws you on the bed, smirking at the gasp that leaves your lips again. 

Without hesitating to, he reaches for the hem of his shirt and rips it off. 

Just like back then on the boat, when he took his shirt off before he jumped into the water, you stare at his chest, almost drooling at the delicious sight in front of you. His broad shoulders, the scar around his neck that makes him look even hotter, the hairs on his chest, the muscles in his arms that have visibly gotten bigger since high school. You bite your lip as your eyes move down, almost whining when you see the bulge in his tight jeans. 

You wish you could run your finger down his chest and his stomach, tracing every little scar that the bats have left behind, but instead, you push yourself up, blushing at the fact that you are completely bare in front of him. You reach for his belt, fingers beginning to fumble with the metal when he stops you with a simple touch and a headshake. 

“None of that,” he murmurs as he leans over, his hands digging between your ass and the mattress as he suddenly pulls you to the edge of the bed, dropping to his knees before you, he throws your legs over his shoulder and looks up at you with hooded eyes, “I need to hear you first.” 

You nearly combust when you feel his breath on your pussy and his lips on your inner thighs. A whimper falling from your mouth as you try to close your legs out of instinct, blushing even harder than before. 

“You’re fucking soaked,” he smirks, holding your thighs open as he teasingly slips a finger through your folds, “all for me, huh?” 

You don’t answer but you don’t need to, the loud moan that you let out when he dives right into you with his tongue, gives him everything he needs to know. 

He moans in content as he grabs your ass roughly, eyes rolling back when he tastes you for the first time, he almost starts drooling over you, finding pleasure in this. 

He teasingly licks a stripe up from your entrance to your clit, circling the tip of his tongue around your already aching nub as he uses his fingers to part your lips. 

You scrunch up your face as his tongue pleases you in ways your fingers never could, sighs and whimpers start escaping you as he now presses his thumb against your clit and he starts eating you out, his moans vibrating against you. 

Your mouth falls open as your back arches in pleasure, fingers digging into the sheets beneath you as you fall apart completely. 

No words are spoken as you both just enjoy this moment of bliss, him getting lost in you, you getting lost in the pleasure he blesses you with. 

You focus on everything and also on nothing – his whimpers send shivers through you, his tongue that he fucks you with making you gasp and drool, and despite the heaviness in your eyes, you manage to open them, wanting, needing to see him. 

He eats you out slowly, yet desperately, fingers and tongue now working together to unravel you. His eyes are closed and he keeps moaning and whimpering as saliva runs down his chin. He looks so content, so pleased from only this. 

Steve curls his fingers inside of you as he keeps his thumb on your clit, rubbing circles on it. 

Tears of pleasure prickle in your eyes as needy sounds keep escaping you. You hold the sheets even tighter now, closing your legs around his head, caging him in between them. 

Steve finally opens his eyes, they darken even more now when he sees how you are falling apart for him, it only prompts him to fuck you even harder with his tongue and his two fingers. 

Your moans and whimpers are enough to drive him crazy, enough to make the erection in his pants feel painful but he wants more, he needs to hear his name falling from your lips and he gets what he wants only seconds later when your body grows tense and your back arches again as a tear rolls down your cheek. 

“Steve!” You nearly scream as you come undone, writhing beneath his touch. 

You tilt your head to the side, bringing your hand up to your face, you bite your teeth into your knuckles as hot tears run down your flushed cheeks. 

Steve laps at your pussy, moans still falling from his mouth. Only as you whimper weakly does he pull away from you, but not without giving your clit another teasing lick, causing you to spasm which only makes him chuckle darkly. 

He carefully removes your legs from his shoulders and lets go of you before he rises back to his full height. 

You instantly press your legs together, breathing heavily as you try to calm down from the orgasm he just gave you. 

What Steve didn’t do before was take in the sight of your bare body, and now as he does it, he has to swallow harshly, his dick twitching in his jeans, begging for release. He finds himself aching for you, even more than before, he not only wants you, he needs you in ways he can’t even describe. 

He watches the way your chest glistens with sweat, your nipples hard from the pleasure that curses through your body, your eyes are shut, your brows pulled together. He licks his lips before he bites down as his eyes trace every inch of your skin, the scars that make you look even more attractive. 

It takes everything in him not to drop to his knees and taste you once again. 

He needs you, he needs to feel you wrapped around his dick, he needs to hear your moans as he fills you to the brim, he needs to fuck you. 

Steve unbuckles his belt, the metal clinking against each other, causing you to open your eyes at the sound. 

You look at him through your glassy eyes, pushing yourself up on your elbows as you watch him unbutton his pants but before he pushes them down, he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket and you watch him curiously. 

He opens it to take out the condom he had prepared for a different… less exciting occasion. He hastily pushes his pants and boxers down, his dick slaps against his stomach and he fails to notice the way your eyes widen or the way your lips part in surprise at the sight, at the size of him. He steps out of his shoes, cursing under his breath as he pushes them aside before he uses both hands to part your legs, getting on the mattress.

Before he rips the foil apart, he looks into your eyes, wanting your consent first but no words have to leave his mouth because you are the first to make the move, you sit up slightly, taking the tiny foil pack from his fingers, surprising him by bringing it up to your lips and ripping it open with your teeth. 

Despite the streaks of tears on your skin, the fucked out look in your eyes, the shakiness in your body, you look at him so dangerously. 

And he can’t do anything but watch you in awe for a moment, how you wrap your much smaller hand around his dick, pressing your thumb against his slit to tease him. 

“O-Oh fuck…” He shudders, eyes nearly closing at only that. 

You bite your bottom lip, trying not to drool as you roll the condom over his length. You look up at him again to find him staring at you with flushed cheeks and lust in his eyes. It’s dark in the room, but you can see each other just well enough, the moon shines brightly into your room tonight. 

You can’t even help yourself when you cup his cheeks and pull him down for a kiss, closing your eyes when your lips meet again. 

He grabs your waist, making you crawl back until you’re far enough on the mattress for your head to hit the pillows when he pushes you down. He presses his hands on your knees and you part your legs eagerly for him. 

His fingers trace your skin as he brings his hand up, passing your hip bone and your waist and grabbing your boob with roughness as he slips his tongue into your mouth, wanting you to taste yourself. He pinches your nipple with his fingers, smirking against you when you whine and writhe underneath him. 

You reach your hand down, not wanting to waste any more seconds, you wrap your hand around his dick again, jerking him off a few times before you line him up with your entrance, whining desperately again. 

Steve breaks the kiss and opens his eyes to look at you, “you’re so desperate for my cock, huh?” He breathes, still playing with your nipple. 

You raise yourself up a little, pecking his lips again as you nod your head. 

He can’t believe that you are this needy for him, that you are giving him those eyes. 

If only he knew how many times you have dreamt of this moment. 

“Please,” you whimper. 

“Please what, Blondie?” He teases you as his hand now slides down your stomach, fingertips brushing your clit, making you shiver. 

You blink and you breathe heavily as you place your hand on his shoulder, “please fuck me, Steve… Please…”

A satisfied smirk appears on his face, your desperation making him feel smug – but the smugness quickly dissolves into something else when he pushes inside you and feels your tightness around him for the very first time. 

You breathe in harshly and hold it, shutting your eyes when you feel him stretching you out. Nothing could have prepared you for this moment, not his tongue, not his fingers, nothing. The stretch is both painful and delicious, it makes you gasp but it also makes you drool as he inches deeper and deeper. 

Steve can only curse and whimper in pleasure as he watches his cock disappearing inside of you, he doesn’t push in fully though, too scared to hurt you. 

He bites his bottom lip, bottoming out again before he pushes back in, listening to the wet sound and the neediness in your voice as you moan. 

“M-More,” you whine, your eyes now watching him, “please…”

His dick twitches at the sound of that and at the look on your face. 

“Fuck me, Steve.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, he pushes in deeper than before, until he’s buried inside of you completely. Usually, he would take a moment to catch his breathe, to adjust to the tightness but he is too eager, too desperate for this. So he grabs your hips and he starts thrusting, slowly at first, not wanting to hurt you. 

You gasp, hands finding the sheets beneath you again as your eyes follow the movement of his hips, watching the way his dick slides in and out of you. You throw your head back and look at his face next.

Strands of his hair fall in front of his eyes, his lips are puffy from all the kissing, his cheeks are flushed. He is moaning, for you, because of you. You are in utter bliss, feeling pride swell in your chest when he moans even louder as you clench around him. 

He watches the way he fucks you, eyes growing darker and darker and then, he looks at your chest, the way your tits bounce from the movements, something that prompts him to move his hips even faster, fucking into you harder now. 

“F-Fuck,” you whine loudly. 

His eyes meet your face and the pleasure on it is suddenly not enough for him, he wants to throw you over the edge, he needs to hear you scream for him. 

He curses under his breath when you clench around him again. 

Steve’s knees dig into the mattress, his fingers now holding you even stronger than before, he is sure to leave bruises but you don’t mind, you would never mind. He fastens his pace, railing into you and thrusting in and out of you, making you fall apart in the matter of a few seconds. You can’t speak, even if you tried. All that you can do is moan pathetically, letting him use you. 

“You take me so well, holy shit, Blondie,” he whimpers, voicing out his thoughts, brows scrunching together as he watches you, your lips parted, moans that he only ever dreamt of leaving you. “L-Look at you, fuck. If I knew that my cock would shut you up, I would’ve done this a long time ago.” 

“S-Steve!” You whine with a high pitched voice, something that only leads him to pound you even harder even if a tiny part of him wants to mock you. 

Your eyes roll back, the tension in your stomach rolling back in, only stronger and hotter this time, and you already don’t know what to do with yourself, but when he suddenly reaches for your legs, hooking the back of your knees around his forearms, your eyes widen when they meet his again and a wicked smirk appears on his face as he starts fucking you from a different angle, snapping his hips into yours so wildly that you can’t help but cry out as your eyelids become droopy, tears now begging to be released, just like the drool that starts coming from the corner of your mouth. 

The room now filled with nothing but the dirty sounds of your skin slapping together, the squelching noises from your pussy and his pleasing moans. 

Steve watches you in awe, eyes growing wide when he sees just how cockdrunk you are for him. 

He fucks you recklessly, eagerly and as though it is the last thing he will ever do. 

Your tears fall freely, your whimpers turning into cries the moment his thumb finds your clit again. 

He feels your walls clenching around him, gripping his twitching cock tightly – and he knows you’re close, he knows that he is close but he doesn’t want to stop, he doesn’t want this moment to be over. 

Steve savors every second, pounding into you roughly and harshly, grabbing your face with his left hand when your head falls to the side, he needs to watch you, he needs to see you when you cum around him. 

“You wanna cum for me?” He asks breathlessly. 

You nod eagerly, without letting a word fall from your lips, you only nod and whine. 

You feel the overstimulation rushing through you, the fire in your stomach that is about to burst into something bigger. You can feel him everywhere, he is so deep inside of you that it makes your body shake like crazy, but it feels good, so good that it almost wants to make you cry for different reasons when you think about how this could be a one time thing. 

His hand leaves your face, he throws his palm into the pillow next to you, holding it tightly as his own eyes fall shut now, moaning your name as he picks up the pace of his fingers against your clit, his hips snapping faster into yours now. 

“I-I’m–”

“I know, I know…” He coos, letting his face fall into the crook of your neck. 

You feel the urge to feel him even closer, so despite the weakness in your body, you use every bit of your strength to lift your hand and press it against his warm back. 

“Cum for me,” he whimpers into your neck before he bites into your flesh, marking you up for anyone to see. 

A loud gasp tears out of you as his last thrusts grow rougher and his fingers move faster, you can’t help but dig your nails into his back, scratching him as stars blur your vision and the shockwaves grip your body so tightly as you cum around his cock, just as he spills into the condom, moaning into your neck. 

You can’t even feel your tears nor the drool still coming out of your mouth, all that you can feel is him. Your arm now falls back onto the mattress and your eyes shutting as the darkness starts to envelope you. 

“F-Fuck,” he whispers as he stops moving, pressing another kiss to your neck before he pulls out of you, hissing at the feeling. 

He can feel your trembling body beneath his, the sighs that keep falling from your lips, he smugly pulls away to take a look at you, only to see your eyes dropping as you start to lose your consciousness. 

“Shit,” he whispers, cupping your cheeks, “you okay, Blondie?” 

You nod as best as you can, slapping his hand away as you snuggle into the pillows, not even bothering with the blanket. 

He scratches the back of his neck, pressing his lips together as he watches you fall asleep so quickly. He can’t help but feel smug as he looks at the way your thighs are trembling still. 

He stands up, leaving the room to walk into the bathroom, where the light is still turned on. He steps inside, noticing how the mirror is a little fogged, the smell of vanilla and strawberries lingering in the air, making his stomach flutter ever so slightly. 

Discarded clothes lay on the ground, he picks them up and puts them on the counter before he rolls off the condom, tying it up before he throws it into the trash. He turns towards the sink and washes his hands before he walks back into your room, a smile tugging on his lips. 

He plops down beside you, pulling the cover over you and himself, scooting closer to you. 

He doesn’t know where this will go or what is going to happen tomorrow but as he looks at your stained face, and every single previous second replays in his head, he is sure of one thing. 

There is not a single fucking chance that this is going to be a one time thing. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals!

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles

[sansaorgana]

— LADY OF THE ROSES (IV)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — Gwayne and his wife visit King's Landing with their children, who are very jealous of the fact that their cousins own their dragons and they do not. In the meantime, Otto Hightower wonders if his daughter-in-law is truly loyal to his house.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. + You don’t have to know the previous chapters to understand this one and it's the last one of this story. 😊💚 In the show Gwayne mentions that it took him three months to get to King's Landing but I was using some website while writing previous parts where it says that it takes a week from Oldtown to Highgarden and, according to the same logic, it takes less than a month from Highgarden to King's Landing – that's why I decided to make the whole trip only a month long here. 🤔

WARNINGS — Alicent slapping Aegon's face, Reader's child getting hurt (nothing major)

WORD COUNT — 6,870

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (IV)

Past few weeks had been busy and spent on making all the necessary preparations before the long trip. Oldtown would be left without the Lord or Lady to look after it for around three months and it required lots of training and instructing all the servants and knights around the city what to do in your absence.

You had been summoned by your father-in-law and his daughter, The Queen Consort. They had invited your Lord Husband and you to King’s Landing to spend time together – even though you had a very weird feeling the sudden need to create a stronger bond within the family was dictated by some hidden agenda. Either way, you were rather excited for the trip even though it would take about a month on the road to even get to the capital city of Westeros.

What stressed you the most was travelling for so long with four children you had given Gwayne for the past few years. Your eldest son Edmund was twelve now and his brother William was ten. Your daughter Rosalynd was eight and her sister Florys was six. You were glad that the time when you had been pregnant nearly constantly was over now and you could enjoy the ups and downs of motherhood without many worries because your husband was a man devoted to his family. Gwayne had not only been raising his sons and teaching them all they needed to know about the sword but he also made sure to spend quality time with his daughters. And above that all, he was simply a caring and sweet husband. No matter how many years had passed.

Your trip started in the very early morning and you all were half asleep while getting inside the carriage. Rosalynd was sleeping with her head on your lap and little Florys was asleep in her father’s arms. Edmund and William were looking out of the window, excited and interested in everything that they were seeing although the road to The Highgarden was very well known to them. Because you lived so close to your parents, your children were often visiting their castle. 

What started peacefully, soon turned out to be a little nightmare. The children were very whiny and easily getting bored. When you reached The Highgarden a week after leaving Oldtown, you were seriously considering coming back home instead of going further down the Rose Road. 

“It is only the beginning of the trip and it is already exhausting,” you complained to your parents during supper when you were staying overnight at their place.

“You might not get a second chance to go to King’s Landing, my darling,” your father reminded you. “Endure it.”

“Easier said than done, I’m afraid,” Gwayne chuckled and shook his head.

“I do not understand,” your mother spoke up. “Look at them, my grandchildren,” she smiled at the four of your children eating their meals quietly. “They’re so well-behaved. Little angels, really,” she sighed lovingly.

“Perhaps we might leave them here for three moons, how about that?” Your eyes sparkled at the idea. “We shall leave for King's Landing on the morrow while you watch over them.”

“I would love to,” your mother grinned.

“I would not,” your father’s eyes widened at the idea.

“I do not think that is a good idea, my Lady,” Gwayne put his hand on top of yours gently and you looked at him, confused. “To spend three moons without my little ones would be a nightmare,” he explained and your smile dropped.

Gwayne was right. You would miss your children dearly, too. You were sending them sometimes to spend two weeks at The Highgarden with their grandparents and given the fact the trip lasted a week, it would be a month away from you. It was barely bearable already whenever it happened. Three months sounded like torture.

“My Gwayne is right,” you sighed and laid your tired eyes on your mother. “They must go with us. Also, just like Lord Father said, such a chance might not happen again. They should see King’s Landing, too,” you nodded.

In the early morning of the next day, you were already back on the Rose Road, which took you through the town of Bitterbridge to The Kingswood where you entered The Kingsroad and The Crownlands. You had never been there and only two times before you had been on the road for such a long time. Both times it had been to attend your sister’s weddings. One had taken place in Dorne and the second had been in The Vale. 

Once you entered The Kingsroad, it would only take you a few days to reach King’s Landing and you were more than grateful for that. Both you and Gwayne were exhausted after trying to entertain your children on the road and attempting to tame their tantrums caused by boredom and frustration.

The night before reaching King’s Landing you were sleeping at the castle of some lesser Lord who lived nearby the road. You had been given the guest rooms but you couldn’t fall asleep, both excited and anxious about the next day.

“What are you possibly scared of, my love?” Gwayne soothed you by caressing your face with his fingertips when you were laying in his arms and staring at the ceiling instead of drifting off to the land of dreams. “You had met my father already and he seems to be quite indifferent towards you,” he pointed out.

Otto Hightower had visited Oldtown a few times after your wedding to his son and what Gwayne had said was painfully true – he seemed to be indifferent towards you. Just like he was indifferent towards his own son. The only signs of affection you had seen in him were for your daughters. He hadn’t even thanked you for giving him two healthy grandsons and heirs – his attention had been fully focused on the girls. It was quite adorable, you had to admit. But it was also saddening for your husband and sons.

“What about your sister? The King? Will our children get along with their cousins?” You voiced out all your insecurities in a low whisper. “And The Targaryens… I do fear them, Gwayne. People say they are more gods than men.”

“I am sure they are men just like you and I,” Gwayne smiled and kissed your forehead while caressing your arm.

“They have dragons…” You sighed.

“We probably will not even encounter one,” he assured you. “And do not be afraid of my sister or her husband. Are you not always reminding everyone that you are a sister-in-law of The Queen? Now it is time to meet her personally,” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

You somehow managed to get some sleep on that night. In the morning you had your dress prepared already because you had been planning to wear it for quite a long time. Your maids helped you to put on the elegant green gown that was pretty low-cut. You were a daughter of The Highgarden and you had never stopped wearing such necklines. Your own Lord Husband had given up already on trying to change that – in fact, he enjoyed it. You decorated your exposed neck with a golden pendant of The Seven-Pointed Star to make Queen Alicent happy.

Gwayne found it quite funny but you gave him a scolding look.

Your children had green outfits, too. Pretty little green dresses on your girls and dark green tunics with The Hightower beacon embroidered on them on your boys. The Hightowers were coming to King’s Landing.

When you reached the city you were staring out of the window with as much curiosity as your children. Gwayne had been in the capital once before for the tournament when he had been very young so his excitement was not as big.

Lots of people were staring at your carriage with a hint of curiosity. They knew that The Hightowers were The Queen’s family and for that reason some of them waved shyly at you. You were trying to wave back but Rosalynd and Florys were the ones who actually enjoyed it the most – feeling like little Princesses greeting the crowd. So, you allowed them to have fun as you leaned back on your seat. Your hand found Gwayne’s immediately and you squeezed it.

“You better be on your best behaviour once we reach The Red Keep,” you told your sons. “All of you,” you laid your eyes on your giggling daughters.

“You do not need to worry, mother,” Edmund nodded at you and straightened his back, trying to present himself more mature.

“I cannot wait to train with my cousins,” William added. “Father, will we be able to?”

“I do think so,” Gwayne nodded with a smile at him and leaned in to fix William’s ruffled hair.

“I cannot wait to spend time with Princess Helaena,” Rosalynd sighed dreamily. “She must be so ethereal… A Targaryen Princess…”

“I want to see grampa,” Florys’ eyes sparkled and you chuckled at your sweet little girl.

You smiled nervously at your husband when you realised you were already entering The Red Keep’s courtyard and a few people were waiting for you. You spotted your tall father-in-law and that beautiful woman standing next to him had to be Queen Alicent herself. She had soft, curly hair in the auburn colour and her dress was of the same shade of green as yours. You sincerely hoped it would not be considered rude of you but you had no idea. There were three silver-haired children with them – two boys and a girl. They had to be Prince Aegon, Princess Helaena and Prince Aemond.

“Grampa!” Florys clapped her hands excitedly and already moved to the carriage’s door.

“Florys, mummy and daddy are leaving the carriage first,” you reminded her softly.

“Do try to behave like a big girl!” Her older sister scolded her. “We are in King’s Landing!”

“Rosalynd, you are not her Lady Mother,” Gwayne reminded his daughter.

In the meantime, the servant announced your family and opened the door of the carriage. You took a deep breath in and watched your husband get out before offering you his hand to help you. You took it softly and wore a nervous smile before facing your in-laws.

The moment your feet touched the ground, you felt something moving behind your skirts. It was little Florys jumping out of the carriage already and running as fast as possible towards her grandfather. Everyone froze for a moment and widened their eyes at the scene.

“Grampa!” Florys reached her hands out and Otto Hightower let out a nervous chuckle before crouching down to give her a tight squeeze.

“You are being impatient, Lady Florys,” he greeted her and she clapped her hands.

Rosalynd stood by your side with a sigh and an eye-roll. Meanwhile, your sons chose to stand by their father. Since Florys had broken all the protocols already anyway, you decided to simply walk up to The Queen without caring about the right order as you nodded at your husband. He nodded back and only then Rosalynd ran up to her grandfather as well to give him a hug, too.

You sighed and shook your head before walking up to Queen Alicent herself. Your sons followed you and Gwayne while Otto whispered something to the girls, which made their faces go serious as they joined your side, too. You all bowed down respectfully. 

“My Queen,” you greeted her.

“Sister,” Gwayne kissed the palm of her hand.

From the corner of your eye you spotted the older Prince yawning. Queen Alicent blushed and pushed him slightly with her elbow.

“I see we both struggle when it comes to disciplining our offspring,” she smiled at you but you noticed how she looked down at your low-cut dress and the religious pendant on your exposed chest. She chewed on the inside of her cheek at the sight but she decided not to comment.

“Lady Hightower,” your father-in-law kissed the palm of your hand.

“Lord Father,” you greeted him and he gave you a shadow of a smile.

At his son, he only nodded. Gwayne nodded back and clenched his jaw.

“My grandsons,” Otto approached your boys and shook their hands. “Let me introduce the young Princes to you,” he pointed at the silver-haired boys standing by Queen Alicent’s side. “Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond.”

“Lord Edmund,” Edmund introduced himself and extended his hand towards Aegon. Prince Aegon looked him up and down and after a while of hesitation, he shook your son’s hand.

“Lord William,” your younger boy introduced himself and reached out for Aemond’s hand. Prince Aemond shook it shyly.

“Are you Princess Helaena?” Rosalynd stood in front of the Princess with Florys hiding behind her. 

The silver-haired girl widened her eyes and looked pretty startled. She took a step back and Rosalynd furrowed her brow.

“Princess Helaena is of a… rather timid nature,” Queen Alicent explained.

“Let us come inside, you must be exhausted after the journey,” Otto pointed at the doors leading to the castle.

“Do not even get me started, Lord Father,” Gwayne chuckled. “And certainly do not get my Lady Wife started,” he added teasingly and you shot him a scolding glance.

The first day was pretty chaotic because everyone was exhausted but also excited to see as much as possible of The Red Keep. Otto Hightower gave you and your children a tour himself. The only place he avoided were the chambers of The King who was ill and you had already been told you would not see him most likely.

Gwayne had already seen The Red Keep before but it had been before his sister was The Queen so now he was allowed in more places. He joined your little tour and kept his hands on your sons’ shoulders, while your daughters were holding Otto’s hands. 

To your surprise, during the supper, you quite befriended Queen Alicent. Of course she was still frowning upon your dress but you bonded over the experience of motherhood.

“The Red Keep is so green now,” your father-in-law pointed out happily at the sight of you, his children and grandchildren by the long table. All dressed in green clothes to show off their Hightower surname. “It makes me glad. Gwayne, I would like to have a word with you after supper.”

“Tomorrow, father,” Gwayne shook his head. “We are tired after the journey.”

Otto didn’t say anything to that but he gave his son quite an unpleasant look. You squeezed your husband’s hand underneath the table and caressed the palm of his hand lovingly to soothe him.

You retired to your chambers pretty early because you were longing for the comforts of a bed. Your husband and children followed and you made sure they all found their rooms and beds before you went to your own chambers.

“What do you think is the matter he wishes to discuss with you?” You asked Gwayne while brushing your hair in front of the mirror by the vanity table. He was sitting up on the bed and watching you with admiration in his eyes as every evening. “Do you think it is something about Oldtown?”

“No,” Gwayne shakes his head. “Those instructions have always been sent to us by ravens. It must be something about… the future and its possibilities.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You furrowed your brow and turned around to see his face better.

“You know that my father wants Prince Aegon on The Iron Throne, not Princess Rhaenyra,” your husband reminded you. “And The King might die soon. We are not even allowed to see him.”

“They say he is slowly decaying with each passing day,” you winced when you imagined such a thing happening to a person.

“That must be a terrible fate,” Gwayne sighed. “However, his death will bring the conflict of succession.”

“What conflict?” You asked. “Aegon is his eldest son.”

Gwayne squinted his eyes and then shook his head with a chuckle.

“My father is underestimating you, my sweetling,” he hummed to himself. “Now, come here, since we are sleeping in The Red Keep, I want to make you feel like a Princess,” he opened his arms for you to join him but you only scoffed and put the hairbrush down before fixing your hair with your hands.

“I am not a child anymore, Lord Husband,” you teased. “You shall make me feel like a Queen.”

You and Queen Alicent were sitting in the garden together and watching your daughters trying to befriend each other. Rosalynd and Florys were pretty grossed out and shocked to see Princess Helaena sitting on the grass and picking up all sorts of bugs and insects to examine with her curious eyes. She handed Rosalynd a spider once and your daughter nearly fainted at the sight.

Princess Helaena was of a gentle nature, though. She seemed to like her younger cousins and she was whispering to them all the details about every bug she was picking up. Florys was more interested in them than Rosalynd. Your eight years old daughter was often shooting you meaningful glances but you were only smiling at her in return.

The young princes and your sons were training together in the courtyard with Gwayne and Ser Criston Cole, whom you had recently met. You wondered how it was going, so you decided to finally put Rosalynd out of her misery.

“Shall we check on our sons, Your Grace?” You asked Queen Alicent but she seemed to be surprised.

“What for?” She inquired. “Are they not with the men who teach them?”

“I like to watch my sons while they train and cheer for them,” you told her and smiled softly. She visibly did not understand the appeal of it but she stood up from the bench and you followed. “Girls,” you looked behind your shoulder and extended your hand. “Come.”

Florys ran up to you to take your hand while Rosalynd and Helaena followed quietly behind you. You could hear your daughter desperately trying to start a conversation she was dying to have with a real Princess.

“You must own so many beautiful dresses, Helaena! What is your favourite colour?”

“Beige,” Helaena answered, clearly uninterested but also not wanting to make her cousin sad.

“Nice…” Rosalynd sighed and you could hear that she was disappointed in that answer. “Do you think you could give me some of your old dresses that do not fit you anymore?”

“Rosalynd!” You gasped as you scolded her.

“That is quite alright, Lady Hightower. We shall gift Rosalynd some of Helaena’s old dresses,” Queen Alicent nodded at you and caressed her daughter’s head lovingly.

“Thank you, my Queen,” you smiled at her and then you gave Rosalynd a meaningful look.

“Thank you, aunt,” the girl bowed down happily.

You reached the courtyard but to your surprise, your sons and the young princes were spending time together on their own, whispering and laughing about something, while your husband seemed to be in the middle of an argument with the other knight.

“Is that what you teach them, Ser Criston?” Gwayne was irritated. “Knights shall be chivalrous and rightful.”

“They are no knights, Ser Gwayne, for they are young princes,” Ser Criston answered.

“Gwayne,” you approached them quickly to stand beside your husband and rub his arm before intertwining yours with his. “How is the training going?”

“Oh, rather marvellous, Lady Wife,” he answered, his voice filled with irony and mockery as he looked Ser Criston up and down. “I have a fascinating conversation with Ser Criston here about the manners of a knight. Perhaps they do not teach them in Dorne.”

“You are from Dorne, Ser?” You tried to change the subject as you looked at the man standing in front of you.

“Yes, my Lady,” Ser Criston nodded at you.

“My sister Olenna married a lesser Lord from Dorne,” you told him. “A Toland,” you explained.

“I hope she has found her happiness with him, my Lady,” Ser Criston cracked a smile at you, which made Gwayne move uncomfortably.

“Barely,” you had to admit with a sigh and Ser Criston’s smile turned into a frown.

Before the conversation would become even more awkward, you were interrupted by Edmund and William running up to you and tugging onto your skirts, making both you and your husband turn around.

“What is it?” You asked them.

“Can we go to the dragon pit to see the dragons?!” William’s eyes widened out of excitement.

“I do not think that is a good idea,” you shook your head as your heart skipped a beat out of fear at the thought.

“We only wish to see them,” Edmund explained. “Father…”

“Your mother is right,” Gwayne agreed with you.

“But should not a knight be brave? I want to see a dragon and so does William!” Edmund insisted and sadly, the mention of the knighthood convinced your husband – especially after an argument with Ser Criston about the very same matter.

“Alright then, but be careful you two,” Gwayne nodded and you watched with terror in your eyes as two of your sons ran away to join their cousins and a few servants on the way.

“Gwayne…!” You gasped.

“Worry not,” Queen Alicent’s voice made you turn around. “The Dragonkeepers and the guards are there.”

After hearing this, your daughters seemed to be interested as well. Rosalynd gave you puppy eyes.

“Can we go, too, mother?” She asked.

“Are you a squire, Rosalynd? Or Florys – is she?” You shook your head.

“Let them go, my Lady. It is better to feed the curiosity instead of letting it grow,” Ser Criston spoke and you shot him a deadly glance but you were sort of forced to agree to your daughter’s request now.

You nodded, reluctantly and watched the girls run away to join their brothers and cousins. Princess Helaena remained by her mother’s side, though.

“What about the young Princess?” Gwayne asked her with a smile and lifted her chin up gently with his finger.

“I do not find pleasure in flying, uncle,” she admitted.

You quickly regretted your decision to allow your children to see the dragons. They seemed to be mesmerised by the creatures and they could not stop whining about the fact they did not have their own beasts to ride.

“They are our cousins, mother,” Edmund kept whining to you on your way back from the supper. “Vhagar is so huge… It is so unfair we do not have any dragons and they do have so many!”

“They are princes and you are lords,” you reminded him. “They are Targaryens and you are Hightowers,” you added. “There is no shame in being different.”

“We are not different, Lady Mother,” Rosalynd rolled her eyes. “We are simply worse.”

“I am not jealous,” Florys saved the day with her sweet confession although her siblings shot her a deadly glance. She clinged to her father’s hand and sighed. “Dragons are big and I am small,” she explained and you chuckled because you found her reasoning adorable.

“You are just a coward because you are a girl!” William pointed out.

“I am a girl, too!” Rosalynd protested. “And I am not afraid. In fact, I would surely have a bigger dragon than you!”

“That is enough,” Gwayne shushed them. “Go to your beds, all of you. Sweet dreams about dragons – dreams, only,” he pointed out with a chuckle but the children did not find it funny.

“Goodnight, daddy, mummy,” Florys nodded and dragged Rosalynd with her to their shared chambers. Your older daughter only mumbled her goodnight.

“Goodnight,” Edmund and William both nodded and walked away, still frustrated and offended by the injustice of life and your light treatment of their situation.

You and Gwayne looked at each other and chuckled before going to your own bedroom.

You were asleep in your husband’s arms. The bed you shared in The Red Keep was twice as big as the one you had in Oldtown but you still were sleeping close in the middle of it. Your face was buried in the thin fabric of his shirt and Gwayne had his chin on top of your head and his arms wrapped around you just like yours were wrapped around his chest.

Sudden, loud and rapid knocking upon your doors made you both startle in your sleep and open your eyes. Gwayne sat up and rubbed his eyes and you hid your yawn with your hand.

“What is it?!” Your husband grunted and left the bed to grab a robe laying on the chair and put it on loosely. You sat up as well and watched his silhouette approaching the doors in the darkness of the room. “Someone better be dying,” Gwayne opened the doors and looked the servant up and down.

“F-forgive me for the rapid interruption, my Lord, my Lady…” The man stuttered. He was holding a candle to light up the room a little. “It is about your children…”

Your heart skipped a beat at that and you jumped out of the bed to stand behind your husband.

“What is it? What happened?!” You inquired. “Which children?”

“Lord Edmund is hurt, my Lady. Lord William and Lady Rosalynd seem to be alright but they were involved in it, too,” the servant swallowed thickly after delivering the dreadful news.

“Hurt?!” You squealed and squeezed your husband’s arm out of fear.

“Involved in what?” Gwayne furrowed his eyebrow.

“Apparently, young lords and the lady attempted to claim their own dragons with the help of Prince Aegon,” the servant explained and you nearly fainted at the news. Gwayne’s face went a shade paler in an instant.

“Where are they now?” He asked.

“Everyone is gathering, my Lord. You are expected in the dining hall,” he explained and walked away.

“Gods…” You whimpered and grabbed the very first dress to put on over your nightgown. You did not care much about your appearance at such a moment. Your hands were shaking because you were worried about your children, especially Edmund who was hurt.

Looking presentable enough, both you and Gwayne hurried downstairs and straight into the dining hall. Queen Alicent was there, too and so were Ser Cole and your father-in-law. Your eldest son was being looked after by a maester while William and Rosalynd were standing behind him with their heads kept low. Florys was scared and clinging to Otto’s hand. Prince Aegon looked pretty terrified, too, and he was not even smirking or laughing as usual.

“What happened?! Edmund!” You left Gwayne’s side to rush to your son. Your heart clenched inside your chest at the sight of his cheek burnt slightly. His lips and eyes were unharmed and for that he was lucky but there was a long burnt line on his cheek that would surely not heal completely and leave a scar. “Oh, Edmund…!” You sobbed and pressed the good side of his face to your chest.

“I am alright, mother,” he whispered.

“What were you thinking?!” Gwayne lost his temper but you knew it was dictated by worry and fear. “Grown tired of living, have you?!” He addressed William and Rosalynd now and they both looked away, ashamed.

“I did not go, daddy!” Florys exclaimed proudly. “And I was telling them it was a bad idea!”

“Shut your mouth, Florys!” Rosalynd scolded her and Florys hid herself behind her grandfather. Gwayne clenched his jaw.

“Do not speak to your sister this way, Rosalynd. Do not speak at all, I advise,” he pointed his finger at his daughter and she looked down again. “Whose idea was it?!”

Both William and Rosalynd pointed their fingers at Edmund. Even Florys stuck her little hand out from behind her grandfather to point at her eldest brother.

“Traitors!” Edmund shouted at them.

You looked down at your son’s face. He winced while the maester was putting an ointment on his injury.

“You’re scarred for life,” you sniffled your tears back. “My sweet boy…”

“I have nearly gained a dragon,” he told you proudly. “And the scar does not bother me, mother, for I have survived the attempt. I shall try again soon.”

“You could never own a dragon, son! Only Targaryens can own and ride them! It is common knowledge!” Gwayne raised his hands up as if he was giving up.

Aegon moved uncomfortably while Edmund shot him a glance full of hatred.

“What is it?” Queen Alicent asked, already sensing her own son’s involvement in this whole thing being much worse than she had expected.

“It was Aegon!” Edmund’s lower lip trembled suddenly. “He told us we could gain our own dragons, too! That we can claim the spare ones or Helaena’s since she has no interest in it!” He confessed.

Now everyone’s angry eyes were laid upon the young Prince. He huffed with an eye roll but his cheeks turned crimson red.

“I did not know,” he whispered. “I did not know that only we can ride them.”

You were filled with rage. Your eldest son liked to pretend he was more mature than the rest of his siblings but he was only twelve after all – he was still a child. Prince Aegon was the eldest out of the cousins and he should had known better.

“You have cruelly teased my children to risk their lives… To… To possibly lose them and die!” You approached him angrily and began to shake him by his arms. You couldn't care less that he was a Prince. You wanted him punished. “And now you are playing a fool by saying such a stupidity! You insolent son of a–”

“(Y/N),” Gwayne stopped you as he rushed to you and put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off.

“Edmund has a scar for life!” You sobbed again.

“Mother, I am alright!” Your son’s voice reached your ears.

“I did not know…!” Scared Aegon was trying to get out of your grip and Queen Alicent was attempting to help him by pushing your hands away.

“Lady Hightower, be reasonable!” She pleaded. “I shall punish my son accordingly but it is my punishment to give him, not yours!”

“My children could have died! All of them!” You screamed at her.

“Not me!” Florys squealed.

“Shush, my darling,” Otto scolded her gently. “All of us should calm down now. After all, everybody is alive, thank Gods,” he pointed out and you pushed Aegon away before angrily turning around.

The maester was no longer sitting by Edmund’s side and now you approached your boy to grab him by his shirt and drag him towards Otto.

“Look at him! My son nearly died!” You yelled at him. “Do not order me to calm down, Lord Father!”

“Mother, let go of me, it hurts,” Edmund whined and you stopped pulling him by his shirt but your whole body was trembling out of anger, fear and frustration. “Young Prince Aegon should learn how to treat other people, especially the weaker ones…” You patted your own chest with your fist and your son huffed at the word weaker. “...if you wish to put him on the throne!” You finished and the whole room went silent.

It was something that should not be said out loud. Thankfully, everyone inside the dining hall was on the same side when it came to the conflict of succession.

“That is enough, my Lady,” Gwayne shook his head and put his hands on your shoulders to walk you out of his surprised father’s sight. “I am sure Prince Aegon will be punished for his behaviour by his own parents.”

“I did not know, I swear!” Aegon whined. “I would not want cousin Edmund or cousin William to get hurt and especially not cousin Rosalynd!”

“Save it!” Queen Alicent scolded him angrily and slapped his face. “You have outdone yourself this time, Aegon!”

Gwayne was rubbing your arms soothingly and pressed you closer to his body by putting his hand in the back of your head. Your heartbeat was slowing down and your breath was coming back to normal.

“I think we should all agree to collectively remove Lady Hightower’s accusation from our memories,” Otto spoke calmly. “And that it is time to go back to our beds.”

All of your children approached you, clinging to your skirts, except for Edmund who felt stupid and guilty now, embarrassed. He was looking down and clasped his hands behind his back but Gwayne put his hand around his shoulders to pull him closer.

“Your grandfather is right, it is time to go back to our beds. If we manage to fall asleep after such a night,” he pointed out.

Prince Aegon did not show up for the breakfast and you were glad he did not because you would tear him apart if you saw him. Now, after taking a better look at your son’s injury in the morning light, you were heartbroken. His scar would probably look intimidating when he would become the fearsome knight he wanted to be but you were his mother and your heart ached for him. 

The breakfast overall was pretty quiet and after the meal Gwayne took your sons to the courtyard to continue their training while Rosalynd and Florys followed Queen Alicent to Princess Helaena’s chambers for the girls to embroider together. Rosalynd also hoped to try on some of Princess Helaena’s dresses. You considered not allowing her to take any as a form of punishment for yesterday's stunt but you eventually decided it would be too cruel.

You were asked by your father-in-law to see him after breakfast and you kind of dreaded the conversation because you had a feeling what it would be about. Gwayne wanted to accompany you but you disagreed because it would make you look weak and scared. You had to face Otto Hightower alone. Gwayne had reluctantly agreed but he had assured you that he would remain by your side no matter what your father-in-law would say to you.

On your way to his chambers, you walked past Prince Aegon’s room. The doors were ajar and he was sitting on the edge of his bed. At first, seeing him brought back all the memories from the last night and all the anger. But after a short while of staring at him, you noticed that he was… sad.

It confused you as you kept staring and in the meantime, he spotted your presence. He got startled a little, knowing that you were alone now since his guard was nowhere to be seen and his mother was not there to push you away if you attacked him again.

He approached the doors to close them but he kept glancing at you like a beaten dog and even dared to speak.

“Is my cousin alright, aunt?” He asked quietly, his voice filled with guilt and worry. Suddenly, you started to have a feeling he had not been lying. Perhaps he truly had not known about the Targaryens being the only people who could ride dragons.

It would not surprise you because your father-in-law had been complaining about Prince Aegon not wanting to study his books and his knowledge of High Valyrian was… questionable.

“Edmund is quite alright,” you nodded at him and took a step ahead before he would close the doors. “Can we talk?”

Aegon hesitated but he looked down and nodded, letting you inside. You entered his chambers and looked around, humming at the sight of a wine goblet on his nightstand table.

“I truly did not know about the dragons, I am sorry,” Aegon confessed. “I know I am of a rather careless nature but I would not risk my cousins’ life,” he added and you sighed.

After a short while of hesitation, you approached him and caressed his hair before putting a silver strand behind his ear and lifting his chin up to make him look into your eyes.

“I am sorry for my outburst, young Prince. I do believe you now,” you assured him with a soft smile. “It still was irresponsible and foolish but I see now that your intentions were not malicious,” you nodded and his eyes sparkled at your words.

“Really? You do believe me, aunt?” He couldn’t be convinced and it made you sad to see it.

“I do,” you moved your hand away from his face. “To see a scar on my son’s face is painful for a mother but I do realise he does not mind it at all and he is proud of how he gained it. Let it be then,” you sighed. “It cannot be undone anyway.”

A short while of silence occurred between you two and you smiled at Aegon before approaching the doors again.

“You should join uncle Gwayne and my sons in the courtyard, my Prince. They are training with Ser Cole and young Prince Aemond,” you encouraged him. “And I shall leave now to speak with your grandfather.”

Aegon nodded at you and you left his chambers to hurry to Otto Hightower’s room where he was already waiting for you. He gave you a scolding look when you entered.

“What took you so long, Lady Hightower?” He asked, sitting on an armchair by the fireplace.

“I was stopped on the way, Lord Father,” you explained calmly and he pointed at the armchair next to his. You took a seat there and waited for him to start the conversation.

“We shall speak about last night,” he started.

“I do believe it was your idea to remove my accusations from the memory,” you reminded and he shot you an unpleasant glance.

“I need to know where you stand,” he looked deep into your eyes.

“Where do I stand?” You furrowed your brows. “What does it matter?”

“You have a great influence on my son. Much bigger than a wife should have on any man,” Otto pointed out. “I need to know I can trust you.”

“Speak plainly, Lord Father,” you challenged him with a head held high. “And I shall tell you.”

Otto hesitated as he looked at the dancing flames for a while. You waited patiently until he eventually laid his eyes on you again with the most serious expression.

“Do you support Prince Aegon as the future King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men?” Otto lowered his voice – his whispers were nearly audible.

“I believe you wish to know if I support your treason,” you raised an eyebrow and Otto clenched his jaw. “I do,” you nodded. “Prince Aegon is half-Hightower and I shall always support my family,” you added and stood up. “Does that answer satisfy you, my Lord? I shall join my sons and husband in the courtyard. I have promised them to watch their training,” you explained.

“You can go,” Otto dismissed you and you turned around but then you stopped.

“Lord Father?” You looked at him one more time.

“Yes?” He looked up to meet your gaze with furrowed brows.

“I shall ensure that my own Lord Father – Lord Tyrell – supports King Aegon when the time comes,” you promised.

Otto only nodded at you and you nodded back before walking out of his chambers and hurrying downstairs to the courtyard.

You smiled at the sight of your boys being instructed by their father. Prince Aegon joined them in the meantime as well and you waved at them all before taking a seat on the bench as usual – to watch and cheer.

After giving your sons their instructions, Gwayne gave them some space and joined your side as he sat next to you.

“What did my father want from you, darling?” He asked, worryingly.

“He wondered about my loyalty,” you scoffed and looked up at your husband’s face to fix a reckless auburn hair strand falling onto his face. “As if I didn’t give him four grandchildren to inherit his wealth and titles. As if I didn’t run Oldtown in his name for years. As if I didn’t love his son with every heartbeat of mine,” you finished quietly and a slight blush brightened your husband’s cheeks.

“Last night must have frightened him,” Gwayne explained. “You were rather furious with Prince Aegon.”

“Every parent would be,” you rolled your eyes. “Were you not furious, too?”

“I was but I did not show it,” Gwayne pointed out.

“Every person reacts differently,” you shrugged. “Either way, such conflicts always happen sooner or later between the family members. I shall not take them outside,” you assured Gwayne and took his hand to squeeze it. “I gave birth to four Hightowers. How could I play on any other team?” You asked, genuinely.

Gwayne squeezed your hand back and moved a little closer to you, as much as his armour allowed him. You both watched your sons train with loving smiles on your faces.

At one point, young Prince Aegon looked at you and smiled at you nervously. You smiled back and waved at him even, which caused his own smile to grow wider. Poor boy had no idea what responsibility was being plotted to be put onto his back.

MASTERLIST

[starlight727]

A little gift (part 3, the final part, I promise lol)

Shadow Milk Cookie x reader fic (Chapter 2 - Theater of Lies)

Author's note: Had planned to leave this part for part 2, but decided to make a separate part for it, so here we go, final act, let's do this!

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (you are here)

"As saddening as it can be, we've reached the last round! And since it's the last question, you get twice the amount of points!" announced Shadow Milk with a sad tone in his voice, but at the same time he sounded excited for what was coming next. He pointed out this last question was for White Lily, you looked over your shoulder to see her pale face and eyes widened, she tried to steel herself, but what came next shocked her to her core.

"You sure seem proud of your new title of 'the Guardian of the Seal...' ...let's see how great you really are...!" and with that, Shadow Milk summoned lots of strings that held you and your friends up in the hair by the wrists and ankles, it scared you all, it was a painful feeling how tight the strings were.

But suddenly, you felt the strings let go of your limbs and you fell on a solid platform, it was a cardboard star! You were then carefully taken to the one place you never expected to be: Shadow Milk's hand. You were frozen in fear, trying your best to hide your trembling self. Your eyes were wide open, taking in every single detail in the giant entertainer's form, his attire, his strange hair (or hat, what even was all of that??), his face... his wonderful face and its... majestic features... oh my Witches, you were falling in love with him HARD, like a shooting star crashing on Earthbread (that doesn't make sense but you get the idea). You got up on your feet, but your shaking knees were not helping you keep your balance. You tried walking up to him, but you tripped over your own foot (like a clumsy main character, you hated it), but to your surprise, he caught you just in time! Your gaze softened at the surprisingly generous act, you were staring at him, at his gorgeous sky blue eyes, for so long, you got lost in them, you didn't notice you were so deep in there until Shadow Milk started talking to you with a voice so soft it could be softer than silk.

"Hello there, Y/N Cookie!" he began with a light chuckle, something that snapped you out of your trance and made you blush like mad.

"Hehe, don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you, my little star. You'll stay right here, close to me, so I can keep my eyes on you~." he said as he moved you to the top of the Silver Tree, where the night sky was covered with thousands of blue eyes peering into your soul. It took you a couple of minutes to register what just happened, you needed to lie down after that, you felt like you were about to pass out and you didn't wanna fall off the platform you were standing on, so you rested on it while everything else was happening.

While you were asleep, a lot of important events were happening: Shadow Milk Cookie was holding your friends hostage (Wizard’s string restraints were tighter than everyone else’s), White Lily Cookie was about to make the ultimate decision between saving everyone or defeating Shadow Milk, all while he was making sure you didn’t get caught in the crossfire because the last thing he wanted was for you to get hurt by his hands, especially hers. So everything was going great for him so far, he was going to kill your friends, rule Earthbread and have you be his favorite doll forever… until… something unexpected happened. White Lily used her Guardian powers not to attack Shadow Milk, but to seal the crack in the Tree, thus ruining his plans (also making shrink in size) and saving everyone in the process. You were slowly waking up after the blast healed the Tree, all those loud noises and bright lights were too much, you had to see what was going on.

“You... YOU...!!!! I gave you only two choices...!!!” his loud complaints woke you up more and more, you quickly got up from the platform and stretched. But suddenly, it started shaking and slowly falling, you tried your best to stay calm and steady, but you were at the top of the Tree so it wasn't as easy as you thought it would be. It wasn’t long before the cardboard star you were standing on disappeared completely and you were plummeting to the ground, screaming for help.

“…!!!” Shadow Milk gasped at the sight of you falling, so he extended his hand towards you and a bunch of gooey black tentacles rose from the ground to grab you, bringing you close to him.

“There you go, my darling! Wouldn’t want you hurting yourself now, would we~?” he said as he caressed your face, you blushed a darker tone at the gesture, you weren’t expecting to be this close to him like this, this was simply too much!

“Y/N Cookie! Hold on!” exclaimed White Lily, sending large green vines to your location, grabbing you and pulling you away from Shadow Milk.

“NO!!! You're NOT taking my star away from ME!!!!” he shouted as he sent more tentacles to grab you and pull you away from her, both cookies were now pulling you in opposite directions. It hurt you a lot, you were cracking from the tight grips the vines and tentacles had on you. You were visibly uncomfortable and groaning loudly, both cookies were now fighting for your safety and survival.

“How dare you ruin... This moment I've been waiting for for so long...” his tentacles’ grip on you was weakening, White Lily vines’ kept pulling away from him, their grips were so tight you were losing air, you couldn’t breathe properly anymore.

“Eugh... Agh...” you didn’t like hearing him groan in pain, his tentacles were getting weaker and weaker. White Lily took his moment of weakness to her advantage and used her vines to pull harder, successfully bringing you closer to her.

“WHOA!!” you exclaimed as you were pulled away from Shadow Milk’s grasp.

“ARGHHHHHHH!!!!!!!”

…

……everything went silent, everything turned white…

………….

You were unconscious for a long time.

“…….Y-……” someone was calling out to you.

“…Y/N…………..” you were slowly opening your eyes.

“……Y/N Cookie…!” your eyes shot wide open, you were breathing heavy, you tried to get up but the pain in your waist hit you like a bullet. Pure Vanilla and White Lily were holding you steady, making sure you didn’t hurt yourself more.

“It’s alright, Y/N Cookie! You’re safe.” said Pure Vanilla as he was healing your wounds.

“Aughh, hmm? Pure Vanilla Cookie…? White Lily Cookie…?”

“Oh Y/N Cookie, I’m so sorry for the damage I caused, if there’s anything I could do to make it up to you…” said White Lily, gently placing her hand on your forehead while looking away from your damaged self.

“No no, it’s ok. You did it to save me, thank you…”

White Lily smiled softly at you, Pure Vanilla smiled at her, he was so grateful that she was able to save you. A few moments later, Gingerbrave and friends, Mercurial Knight and Silverbell came to see you.

“Y/N Cookie, you’re ok!” exclaimed Gingerbrave.

“Oh thank the Witches you’re alright!” said Strawberry.

“Finally, it’s all over for that Beast. Thank you so much, White Lily Cookie.” added Wizard.

“Hehe, hey guys.” you whispered as you tried to get up, your voice was weak from the screaming, and you couldn’t maintain your balance from your broken waist. Luckily, Mercurial Knight and Silverbell were there to catch you.

“Careful Y/N Cookie, do not overexert yourself.” said Mercurial Knight.

“Don’t worry Y/N Cookie, we’ll help you get better, we’ll take you back to the kingdom so you can rest!” said Silverbell while smiling at you.

“Thanks, you two, I appreciate it.”

As you all returned to the Faerie kingdom, you all noticed how everything was going back to normal, all the magic from Shadow Milk’s realm was receding. Oh man… he was gone… oh… why were you feeling sad? This was supposed to be a good thing, right? …right? You weren’t sure how to feel about this, until you heard his voice again.

“You think you won, don't you?!”

“HUH?! How are you still talking?!” exclaimed Wizard, you wanted to know how he was talking too!

“You may be celebrating your little victory for now... ... But heed my words! We have finally risen. Do not think that you can hold us back. Foolish Cookies...! You simply have no idea what's waiting for you...! HA HA HA HA HA!”

…

…….

……….

It had been a while since Shadow Milk warned you all about the upcoming danger that was headed your way. You were feeling better about your injuries, Pure Vanilla managed to heal you and the Faerie Cookies patched you up. Everyone was celebrating White Lily's triumph over Shadow Milk's evil ways by having a feast to honor her and the late Elder Faerie. None of this made you feel better emotionally though, you felt conflicted whether you should be happy for everyone winning against Shadow Milk... or sad over his forced departure. You needed some time alone to think, so you excused yourself to go check on the Silver Tree, Mercurial Knight suggested against this because you were still healing from your wounds. You told him you'd be ok on your own, you trusted White Lily's magic would protect you from harm, so he let you go. You made your way towards the Tree, where you rested your head against it and imagined yourself with Shadow Milk again.

"Hey, Shadow Milk Cookie? ...I thought your show was great. I thought... I think... you're great! You're amazing, and funny, and extremely handsome, heh." you started quietly, hoping he could hear you from inside the Tree.

"I wish... I wish I could... see you again..." you whispered as you placed your hands on the Tree, giving it a little kiss, maybe he could feel you from the other side...

...

......

..........

"You're an interesting little cookie, aren't you~?" he spoke to you in your head, so no one else could hear you. You were startled by his response, you didn't think he'd actually say something! You took a few steps back from the Tree, you were hoping nobody saw you doing all of this.

"What the?? How are you talking to me?"

"I'm in your head, silly! Heheheheh!"

"Oh, right. That's not concerning at all."

"Hehe! Y'know, out of all the Cookies I've tormented today, I didn't expect you to resist. In fact, it almost looked like you were truly... interested in me! Why is that?"

You didn't think he'd ask you about your behavior towards him, so with no other way of answering (cause you knew he could see through your lies), you told him the truth.

"O-Oh, w-well, I just... I just thought... that... you were the most intriguing Cookie I've ever met, and I've met a lot of Cookies on my many adventures, but none of them had the same effect on me like you have."

"And what might that be?"

"...Your charms, your witty banter, the fact that you made me laugh several times during your show... and... the way you treated me was so... gentle and caring... not to mention bold... I honestly didn't expect that coming from the Beast of Deceit himself."

Your answer filled Shadow Milk's ego... and his heart. He felt himself blushing and genuinely smiling from the honest opinion you had about him, he wanted to jump out of the Tree to give you a big hug and never let go, he wanted to smooch you until you were breathless, leaving marks on you to let everyone know that you were his and only his.

"...Well aren't you such a cute little cookie~? As a token of my appreciation, here's a little something that you may have lost during my show." you tilted your head in confusion, what was he talking about? Suddenly, out of nowhere, you heard something fall behind you. You quickly turned around and gasped at what you saw. It was your hat! The one that puppet gifted you! Oh, you were so happy to see that hat again, you took a quick sniff and... yep, the same blueberry milk scent from before.

"...Thank you!" you held the hat close to you before you put it on, still fits.

"You're welcome, doll! Just make sure you don't lose it again... or let your small wizard friend see you with it... hats like that one don't just grow on trees, y'know. And... if you ever come back here... I'd love for you to give me more of those sweet and tender kisses of yours, maybe I could return the favor~."

What the?! How does he know about...?? Wait, he knows, but you never actually kissed him... did you? In a split second, your mind travelled back to the memory of you... giving the puppet a kiss... oh my Witches...

"I- uh-... uhhh...b-but... w-wait what?!" is all that came out of your mouth. You couldn't believe it: The puppet, that was him in disguise! You kissed Shadow Milk Cookie (on the forehead, but still)! Shadow Milk laughed heartily at your stuttering self, blushing while doing so.

"Hahahaha! Oh, you look so adorable when you're confused~!" he teased with a devious grin that you couldn't see. You were feeling very dizzy from all your rushing thoughts and rapidly beating heart, you had to sit down for a little while, luckily the wind was there to cool off your head.

"Hehe, you're full of surprises, Shadow Milk Cookie. And sure, if I ever come back here... then maybe... I could give you a surprise of my own~." you said while taking your hat from your head and giving it a long kiss while looking at the Tree, knowing that he could somehow still see you. Your words and your actions made him gasp loudly and jump with excitement, his face turning dark blue while he floated giddily, giggling, squealing, flapping his hands and kicking his feet in the air like a high school girl who got asked out on a date by the hottest guy in school. You heard him making all those noises, which made a light blush grow on your cheeks, then you chuckled while covering your mouth with one hand. But alas, it was time to go, you knew this because you heard your friends calling you in the distance.

"Y/N Cookie, come on! We gotta go!" shouted Gingerbrave.

"Pure Vanilla and White Lily are calling us!" said Strawberry as loudly as she could.

"Let's go Y/N Cookie, we don't wanna keep them waiting, do we?" added Wizard.

"Yeah yeah, I'm coming!" you answered back, hiding the tone of annoyance in your cheerful response. You really weren't looking forward to leaving, especially since you had a good thing going on with him.

"Well, I have to go now. It was nice talking to you again." you told him sadly with a small frown on your face.

"..."

"...Shadow Milk Cookie?"

"Oh, yeah, my apologies heh, I was just... thinking" he said sternly, staring at your friends, and Pure Vanilla's his Soul Jam.

"Hm, about what exactly?" you said teasingly with a smirk. This made him snap out of his thoughts and smile.

"About how much I'm going to miss you, my shining star~! Hehehehe!" he chuckled lightly. You were blushing a lot, he called you his shining star! Witches, you wanted to jump and squeal, but you couldn't show it because your friends were watching you.

"Uh-... w-well uhm, hehe, I'm gonna miss you too...!" you said while breathing heavily, he's been flirting with you so many times, it was time you did something about it before you left, so you did the next best thing.

"Goodbye, my dazzling jester~!" you finished your statement with a wink and a bow, then quickly turned around and ran to your friends with the biggest grin on your face. You had to hide it from your friends so they don't ask you about what you were doing by the Tree, you also hid your hat somewhere in your clothing only you knew about. As you approached your friends, you all waved goodbye to the Faerie Cookies.

If only you could see the look on his face, he was flabbergasted from your bold move, his face was a whole blueberry, melting in place, drunken smile and everything, sighing dreamily over your eventual return.

"Hey Y/N Cookie, what are you smiling about? Did something good happen?" asked Strawberry curiously.

"Oh it's nothing, just remembered something funny." you said as you cleared your throat, trying to wipe away the smile of your face as best as you could. As you all left the Faerie Kingdom, you took a glance at Pure Vanilla's Soul Jam and you heard him speak to you one last time.

"Farewell, Y/N Cookie of the Cookie Kingdom, I'll see you soon." he said softly, his last message to you, if you could, you'd invite him into your kingdom. You remembered how he mentioned that Dark Enchantress would give him and his comrades new cookie bodies so they could unlock their full potential again. Maybe when he finally gets his new body, you could give him some proper affection. Back home, you stare at your hat as you wait patiently for the day when you eventually reunite with him, when you give him those kisses you promised him... when he returns the favor in the most dramatic and romantic way possible, it would be expected from a Cookie like him, you'd still welcome him and his show of affection with open arms.

When you two meet again.

The end.

[lupinqs]

CHAPTER SIX ━━ A Little Too Much

❀ ━ pairing: paige bueckers x oc (jo jacobson)

❀ ━ word count: 6.2K

❀ ━ warnings: like maybe an allusion to sex???

❀ ━ links: my masterlist, nobody gets me masterlist

❀ ━ author’s note: paige bro lock in

PAIGE SINKS deeper into the couch, the familiarity of the apartment wrapping around her like a hug. It’s nice being back, the familiar scent of vanilla (Jo’s candles) filling the space. The TV is tuned to some random college football game—an SEC game that Paige really couldn’t care less about.

Aubrey’s sitting at the other end of the couch, legs stretched out and crossed at the ankle, her arm resting on the back cushion. A bag of chips is balanced precariously on her knee as she scrolls through her phone, glancing up at the screen every now and then to half heartedly comment on a play.

“Nah, ain’t no way Tennessee gets this one,” Aubrey says, tossing a chip into her mouth. “Georgia, no debate.”

Paige snorts, squinting at the game for a moment. “Ion know, the Vols are up.”

“They won’t be,” Aubrey insists, waving the bag of chips for emphasis.

Paige hadn’t realized how much she missed all of this until now. She’s spent the last month in LA, focusing on her rehab at a state-of-the-art facility her team insisted on. The work has been grueling—hours of physical therapy every day, pushing her body to its limits, trying to rebuild what she’s lost.

But being away from her teammates has been harder.

It’s the first week of October now and she hadn’t seen any of them since early September, right before she flew out. Sure, there were texts and FaceTimes—especially with Jo, who’s practically made it her mission to keep Paige from feeling too disconnected. But it isn’t the same as this: sitting on the couch, arguing over nothing, being in one of her best friend’s presence.

“You said Jo was working out with Yanna and Caroline, right?” Paige asks, glancing over at Aubrey. She’d be lying if she said she isn’t anxiously waiting for Jo to get her ass home.

“Yeah, they been at it all day. Jo’s on this whole new grind—something about gettin’ faster footwork or whatever. I dunno, think she just wants to be really prepared for the season, cause—” Aubrey nods to Paige’s knee and Paige nods—Jo is certainly gonna have a huge role for the team this season.

After a moment, though, Aubrey sends her a look, asking, “Why, though? You impatient?”

Paige just rolls her eyes, saying, “It’s just been a minute.”

Aubrey hums, though she doesn’t sound entirely too convinced.

Paige doesn’t much care. She cares more about the fact that she has to sit through nearly the entirety of this football game before she hears the door click open, her head snapping up instinctively. She can hear Jo before she sees her—her sneakers squeaking against the floor, her laugh that’s as bright and familiar as sunlight as she mutters something to—presumably—Ayanna or Caroline, who must still be in the hallway. For a second, everything else washes away—the announcers on the TV, Aubrey scrolling lazily on her phone. Paige’s focus narrows completely, landing squarely on the figure stepping into the apartment.

When Jo finally comes into view, it’s like Paige can breathe again. Except, maybe not, because Jo looks exactly the same and yet somehow better then Paige remembers. Her ponytail is a little messy, strands clinging to her forehead, and her tank top is soaked through with sweat, outlining the lean strength of her frame. Her cheeks are flushed pink and her eyes are sparkling with that post-workout adrenaline.

Paige feels her stomach plummet, a sudden, unwelcome realization inching into her mind. She thinks Jo looks beautiful like this.

“Oh my God, you’re here!” Jo’s voice breaks through Paige’s thoughts, light and high-pitched with excitement. Her smile is wide, open, and utterly disarming, like she’s been waiting for this moment for weeks. She drops her gym bag onto the floor without a second thought and breaks into a jog toward Paige, her arms already outstretched.

Paige stands automatically, her body moving before her brain catches up. And then Jo is there, colliding into her with so much force that Paige actually stumbles back half a step. Jo’s arms wrap around her shoulders, strong and unhesitating, and before Paige even knows what’s happening, she’s being pulling into the kind of hug that makes her feel like melting.

Jo smells like strawberry shampoo and a hint of sweat, a mix that should probably be unappealing but isn’t. Paige’s face ends up pressed against the side of Jo’s neck, and, for a moment, she lets herself completely sink into the embrace. Jo is warm and solid and so full of life, and Paige feels herself relax in a way she didn’t even realize she needed.

But there’s something else, too: a tangle of emotions she can’t—or maybe just doesn’t want—to name. Paige’s hands settle on Jo’s waist, and she pulls her closer, tighter, without even thinking. Her heartbeat picks up, thudding erratically in her chest. She tells herself it’s just the adrenaline of being nearly barreled into.

But then Jo’s laugh bubbles out, muffled against Paige’s shoulder, and Paige feels a little breathless.

“I missed you so much!” Jo squeals, her arms tightening around Paige like she’s never letting go.

Paige smiles, closing her eyes for just a second as her nose nudges Jo’s ponytail. “I missed you too,” she murmurs, and there’s a softness in her voice that surprises even her.

The warmth of Jo’s hug, the way her fingers curl slightly against Paige’s back, makes something twist low in Paige’s stomach. It’s almost too much, but at the same time, not enough. Paige doesn’t want to let go, doesn’t want to think about why this feels different than hugging Aubrey or Azzi earlier.

From behind them, Paige hears Aubrey mutter, “Yeah, maybe a little too much.”

Paige’s eyes snap open, heat rushing to her face. She freezes, her arms going stiff for just a second, but Jo doesn’t seem to notice. Paige’s heart pounds as she wills herself to stay calm, to keep her expression neutral as she pulls back, not too abruptly but enough to put some space between them.

Jo beams, her hands lingering on Paige’s shoulders as she grins up at her. Paige feels like she might die under the weight of it.

“Shit,” Jo says suddenly with realization, stepping back and gesturing to herself. “I’m disgusting right now. I should’ve warned you before jumping on you like that.”

“You’re fine,” Paige says quickly, and then, because she feels like she should say something normal, she adds, “I mean, it’s not like I haven’t seen you sweaty before.”

Jo laughs, the sound bubbling up effortlessly. “Still. Let me shower, and then we’re hanging out. No excuses. I missed you!”

Paige can’t help but smile back, even as her thoughts churn. Jo is grinning at her like she’s the only thing in the world that matters, and Paige feels something warm and unsteady settle in her chest. She watches as Jo grabs her bag and heads toward the bathroom.

Once she’s out of view, Paige sits back down on the couch with a huff. She hates that her heart is still beating too fast.

Next to her, Aubrey hasn’t moved, one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch as she watches Paige with a look that makes the blonde shift a little. The football game continues on, the last few minutes of the fourth quarter blaring, but Aubrey doesn’t seem the least bit interested in it anymore.

Paige finally breaks the silence, blurting out as she turns to Aubrey, “What did you mean by that?”

Aubrey raises an eyebrow. “By what?”

Paige frowns. “That comment you made. About me missin’ her too much.”

Aubrey doesn’t answer right away. Instead, she leans forward, grabbing the remote and lowering the volume on the TV. When she settles back into her seat, she gives Paige a look—a knowing look that immediately puts Paige on edge.

“She has a boyfriend, bro,” Aubrey says simply, as if that explains everything.

“I know that,” Paige snaps, the words leaving her mouth too quickly. She feels a flush creeping up her neck and shifts in her position, trying to look casual, unbothered. “Obviously I know that.”

Aubrey’s gaze doesn’t waver. “Do you?”

“Yes,” Paige says, her voice sharper now. She crosses her arms over her chest, defensive without meaning to be. “’Course I do. What’s your point?”

Aubrey tilts her head, the corner of her mouth twitching like she’s holding back a smirk. “My point is,” she says slowly, “you look at her like she’s the sun or sum. And don’t act like you don’t, ’cause I just saw it.”

Paige scoffs, but it’s weak, almost half-hearted. “That’s fuckin’ ridiculous,” she says, though her tone wavers. “She’s, like, my best friend. I’m just—” She falters, trying to find the right words “I’m just happy to see her. It’s been a month, bro. I’d be like that with anyone.”

“Really?” Aubrey asks, raising her eyebrows. “Uh, you didn’t act like that when I picked you up from the airport. Or when Az came by earlier.”

“That’s different,” Paige says defensively. “You and Azzi—she’s—” She stumbles over the words, annoyed that she can’t articulate why it is different without making it sound worse.

Aubrey doesn’t look convinced. In fact, she looks entirely unimpressed. “Uh-huh,” she says, drawing the syllables out. “P, I warned you about this when you two first moved in together.”

Paige remembers. She remembers when they were moving her bed during the summer and Aubrey had told her seriously, “You cannot fuck Jo Jacobson.”

At the time, Paige had laughed it off. The idea seemed absurd then. Sure, Jo was beautiful, but she was also a freshman and just getting her feet wet here, and Paige would never do that. She would never do that. She still would never do that. But then, Paige hadn’t ever thought of her in that way.

Now—

“I don’t like her like that,” Paige says, her voice firmer than she feels. “I don’t.”

“Uh-huh,” Aubrey says again, in the same tone as before. “Look, I’m not saying you’re doing it on purpose. But, bro, if you do have feelings for her—and I’m not saying you do—don’t let ’em mess with your head. Or the team.”

Paige bristles at that. “I don’t have feelings for her,” she insists. “And even if I did—which I don’t—it wouldn’t affect the team. I’m not that stupid.”

Aubrey shrugs, unfazed. “I’m just saying. Jo’s solid with Asher. Like, really solid. You don’t wanna go down that road.”

Paige feels her chest tighten, and she doesn’t know if it’s because she hates how Aubrey is talking to her or because some small, traitorous part of her knows Aubrey might be right.

“I’m not goin’ down any road,” Paige says, forcing her voice to stay even. “You’re reading too much into this. I’m just happy to see my best friend again. That’s it.”

Aubrey doesn’t press further, but her silence is heavy, loaded with unspoken skepticism. Paige tries to focus on the last few minutes of the football game, but the TV screen practically blurs in her vision as her thoughts spiral.

She tells herself Aubrey’s wrong. That her excitement to see Jo is completely normal. That the way her heart has leapt when Jo walked in the door was nothing more than relief after a long time apart.

But deep down, she can’t shake the way her stomach had flipped when Jo smiled at her. Or the way her chest felt too tight when Jo hugged her, like her ribs were trying to contain something that didn’t want to be contained.

Paige doesn’t know what to call it. She doesn’t want to know.

JO’S EYES remain glued to the screen, but she doesn’t even notice what’s happening in the episode anymore. She missed this—missed the nights spent lying next to Paige, the “sleepovers” which are really just code for one of them being too lazy to walk back into their own rooms and crawl into their own beds.

Jo’s massaging Paige’s knee, the rhythm comforting and almost mechanical now. It’s just what they do; she’s done it a thousand times over since her surgery, though it’s been a month since she’s done it now. She knows how much it helps Paige, and it’s not like it’s anything weird—just a friend doing something nice for another friend, a friend that’s gone through this same thing before and knows what can help.

She’s not thinking about the way Paige’s leg feels under her palm, how soft the skin is, how warm. She’s not. She’s not thinking about how close they are, how the smooth skin of Paige’s thigh rests under her cheek, or how the way Paige moves so naturally beside her makes her chest feel tight in a way that doesn’t make sense.

Paige lets out a soft sigh, and Jo doesn’t quite know why it sends a little flutter through her. She shakes it off quickly, adjusting her position to be more comfortable, still massaging her knee.

They’re almost at the end of first season of The Vampire Diaries now, and Jo’s surprised that Paige has stuck with it. She thought, with all the complaining, that Paige would have tapped out after a few episodes, but here they are, still going strong. Jo knows her well enough that she can tell that Paige has actually started to get into it. Maybe not as much as Jo, but enough to make comments and roll her eyes at the sometimes ridiculous drama.

“You can’t actually be Team Damon, P,” Jo says, shaking her head against Paige’s thigh, letting her fingers glide over the tender muscle beneath Paige’s knee. “Like, come on, girl. Stefan is clearly the better choice.”

Paige shifts slightly, and Jo glances up to see the blonde smirking down at her. Her cheeks are a little flushed and Jo can understand why—it’s hot in here. Maybe they should turn the heat down. “Ion know, JoJo. Damon’s a lot more interesting.”

Jo huffs, “Yeah, well, interesting isn’t always the best option. You need someone who’s steady, who’s good for you.”

“Who’s ‘boring,’ you mean?” Paige’s voice is light, a teasing edge to it.

Jo shakes her head again, laughing a little. As she does so, her lips lightly graze the top of Paige’s thigh. She doesn’t think anything of it. But then she feels Paige’s leg tense up. Jo stills her hand on her knee, thinking she might’ve done something wrong. But then, maybe a second later, Paige is relaxed again, and she doesn’t say anything, so Jo cautiously resumes the massage.

“Yeah, boring’s fine. It’s good. It’s better than all the shit Damon brings,” Jo says.

She can feel the subtle shift in Paige’s posture—she’s looking at Jo, eyes soft, gaze steady—and Jo quickly glances back at the TV, avoiding it. She doesn’t know why. Because it’s because if she lets herself look at Paige for too long, she’ll start thinking about things she’s not supposed to.

“Whatever,” Paige says after a pause. “I still think Damon’s cooler.”

Jo just snorts as she finishes working on the blonde’s knee, feeling the tension slowly melt away as her fingers work the muscles. A final press of her thumb into the joint elicits a soft sigh from Paige, and Jo grins slightly, the satisfaction of helping her best friend making it worth it.

Her fingers ache slightly from the pressure, but it’s nothing really. She looks at Paige briefly before flopping down beside her, her legs splaying out on the bed as she turns onto her stomach. The weight of the day and the long workout is starting to press in on her, and the soft, quiet room feels soothing. “My turn,” she says with a little grin, throwing a look over at Paige as she gestures to her back. It’s a deal they became accustomed to before Paige went off to LA—Jo massages Paige’s knee, and Paige takes care of the horrendous knots in Jo’s back. Simple.

Paige stares at her for a moment, a faint smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, before moving over to straddle Jo’s hips and starting to knead into her back. Jo tries to relax, exhaling deeply as Paige’s hands work their way over her tense muscles. It’s familiar and comfortable, and God, is Jo glad Paige is back in Storrs.

Paige’s fingers press into a particularly stubborn knot, right between Jo’s shoulder blades, and Jo winces, just a little. It’s the one knot that never seems to go away, no matter how much she tries to stretch or work it out. It’s been there for years, a stubborn thing.

“Still there?” Paige’s voice is soft, but Jo can hear the hint of concern.

The younger girl nods into the pillows. “Mmm, yeah, it never goes away.”

Paige hums in acknowledgement, and Jo hears her shift slightly. For a moment, she wonders if Paige is just going to stay where she is and work the knot from the outside, but then, to her surprise, she feels Paige’s hands move to the bottom of her t-shirt, sliding under the fabric carefully.

“Lemme get in there,” Paige murmurs lowly.

The words and the cool air against her skin sends a shiver down Jo’s spine, but she doesn’t pull away. Paige’s touch is so familiar, so comforting, that even the shift in how they’ve positioned doesn’t feel strange—at least, it shouldn’t. She can feel Paige’s fingers move under the fabric, creeping up her spine near her shoulder blade, right where she can press deeper into the knot. The pressure is sudden but not unwelcome. It’s exactly what Jo needs.

“Mmm, that’s better,” Paige says softly, her voice closer now, almost against Jo’s back, as she works the knot precisely. Her fingertips press firmly into the spot, working the muscle, easing the tendon.

The warmth from Paige’s fingers against her skin sends a wave of heat through Jo’s body, and she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. The knot is finally loosening, and for a brief moment, she’s too focused on the sensation to even process anything else. Paige’s hands move with ease, like she’s done this a thousand times. And she has. Or, well, at least a few.

“You good?” Paige asks, voice soft but steady, like she’s concerned, and Jo feels a strange pull in her chest.

Jo hums in response, though it comes out softer than she intended. “Yeah, that feels perfect.”

For a moment, there’s silence between them, and all Jo can focus on is the steady rhythm of Paige’s hands as they move over her back, the weight of her stomach settling into Jo’s muscles. The room is even warmer now—they really should turn down the heat. Even if it’s Connecticut, it’s only October. That, or maybe it’s just the proximity, the closeness of Paige’s body to here. Jo doesn’t know what it is, but her heart’s not beating the way it usually does.

Paige’s hands slide back up, pressing into the tender spots along Jo’s shoulder blades, and Jo bites her lip, trying to ignore how good it feels.

And then, without thinking, Jo shifts slightly, a small motion that presses her chest just a little closer to the bed. With the movement, her body aligns a bit more with Paige’s, and suddenly the space between them feels too small, too close. She can feel Paige’s breath against her back, steady and warm, and Jo’s pulse quickens despite herself.

“God,” Jo mutters. “You’re good at this.”

Paige’s fingers stop their movements for a moment, as if processing the words. “It’s nothing,” she says, but there’s something different in her voice. Maybe it’s just how close they are, or maybe it’s the weight of the silence hanging between them, but Jo’s pretty sure she hears a shift in the way Paige speaks. A slight tension in her voice that Jo can’t explain.

Eventually, Paige finishes working the knot, her hands pulling away slowly. Jo almost feels a pang of disappointment, but she can’t place why. She’s just relaxing, just letting herself unwind. It’s nothing.

Paige lies back down next to her, the space between them still feeling a little smaller than it should be. Jo turns her head to meet Paige’s gaze, their faces just inches apart.

“Better?” Paige asks, her voice soft and almost too quiet. Her fingers trail lightly down Jo’s spine, slipping out from under her shirt with a gentle touch that sends a small shiver through Jo.

Jo smiles a little, nodding. “Yeah,” she murmurs. “Thank you.”

Paige nods, her lips lifting at the corners a little before Jo turns her gaze back to the TV. She tucks her hands under her cheek as she lays on her side, eyes lazily watching the screen. Damon and Elena are fighting over something—per usual.

She doesn’t even notice at first when Paige shifts, her leg brushing against Jo’s under the covers. And then she slides a little closer, her shoulder brushing against Jo’s arm. Her face is even closer now, and Jo’s aware of that. She can feel her breath against her skin. It catches her a little off guard, but it’s not weird. It’s just how they always seem to end up—close.

“I missed you, Joey.” Paige’s voice, so soft, echoes through the room.

Jo glances up, meeting her gaze. It makes her smile. “I missed you too.”

And she did—she got so used to being so close to her that it was terrible when she was gone for so long. So bad it felt like Jo was going through withdrawal or something. And it only makes it worse that she’s flying back out in a couple days and Jo is going to have the apartment to herself again.

Paige’s face is still close, her eyes searching Jo’s for something. They’re so blue, even in the dim lighting of the room, and they feel like an ocean Jo could easily drown in.

She doesn’t know why she does it, but she presses herself closer still, their chests touching now, Jo’s nose brushing against Paige’s neck. Their legs tangle more under the sheets, and Jo feels Paige wrap her arm around her waist gently, letting it rest there. Jo doesn’t mind.

It’s just them. It’s just how they are.

PAIGE WAKES slowly, the soft morning light streaming through the slats of the blinds casting stripes across the bed. Her body feels heavy, warm, and there’s a comforting weight against her arm. Blinking her eyes open, she shifts her head on the pillow and glances down. Jo is still asleep beside her, her face soft in the pale light, her features slack with peace.

Jo looks… pretty, Paige thinks, her thoughts still hazy with sleep. Her hair is tousled, sticking up slightly at the crown from no doubt a restless turn in the night, but it only makes her look softer, less put together in a way that feels intimate. Paige is half aware of the fact that her own arm is tucked under Jo’s, her hand resting near Jo’s waist. Their legs are tangled together, too, her calf brushing Jo’s under the covers.

Paige doesn’t move immediately. She doesn’t want to. It’s warm like this, comfortable, and even though the logical part of her brain tells her to pull away, to avoid making it weird, she stays where she is.

Her gaze lingers on Jo’s face, on the slight curve of her lips, the freckles dusted across her nose that are barely visible. There’s something unguarded about Jo in the morning, something vulnerable and even sweeter than she is when she’s awake.

Last night drifts back to Paige’s mind. The massages, the feel of Jo’s hands on her knee, the feel of Jo’s back under her hands. The way Jo told her she missed her, too. Paige had meant it when she told her—she’d missed Jo more then she thought she would during her time in LA. But it’s not just that. There had been something else in the air last night.

Maybe it’s just the shift of being apart for a month, she tells herself. That’s all. It’s just the way things feel different when you come back to someone after being away. Things will settle back into place eventually. They always do.

Jo stirs slightly in her sleep, her brow twitching, and Paige instinctively stills, not wanting to wake her. The younger girl murmurs something unintelligible and shifts closer, her head tilting toward Paige’s shoulder, and Paige’s breath catches for half a second.

The buzz of a phone breaks the quiet, cutting through the gentle hum of the morning. Paige blinks, her thoughts scattering, and she glances toward the nightstand. The phone buzzes again. She assumes its hers—she gets texts at odd hours from basically everyone. Without thinking, she reaches out, fumbling for the phone blindly without lifting her head.

Her fingers close around the cool device, and she squints at the screen as she opens it, not wearing her glasses yet. By the lockscreen, she immediately can tell that this is not her phone, though—it’s Jo’s. She’s about to close it and put it back when the name at the top of the screen makes her freeze. Ash.

Her stomach twists. She knows that name and she knows it well. Asher. Jo’s boyfriend.

Maybe she doesn’t mean to look, maybe she does. Either way, the messages are right there, impossible to ignore.

Ash 💓

Hi baby I know it’s early

Just wanted to say I miss you

and love you

And I can’t wait to see the media day flicks you better send me them all

Paige stares at the screen for a long moment, her chest tightening in a way she doesn’t—but also might—understand. She knows she should stop looking, that this is a complete violation of Jo’s privacy, but her eyes tracy the words again. Baby. I miss you. I love you. They feel like a slap.

She exhales sharply, locking the phone and setting it back on the nightstand. Her case flicks back to Jo, still fast asleep. Her face is serene and peaceful and Paige feels an overwhelming rush of emotions. It’s not jealousy. It’s not. She’s not jealous. She has no right to be jealous of two high school sweethearts that literally grew up next door together that are probably soulmates and are someday going to get married and have babies.

She’s not jealous of that.

But, nonetheless, the knot in her stomach doesn’t go away.

She unentangles herself carefully, shifting her leg and arm away from Jo’s, mindful not to wake her. Jo murmurs something again, soft and sleepy, and Paige pauses for a second before slipping off the bed entirely. She needs space. Air.

She pads to the bathroom, closing the door behind her and leaning against it for a moment. Her hands grip the edge of the sink, and she stares at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair is a mess, her face slightly puffy from sleep.

She shakes her head, turning on the faucet to splash cold water on her face. It doesn’t help much.

Paige forces herself to focus, to push away the strange feelings clawing at her. Jo is her roommate, her freshie, and, yeah, basically her best friend now. And that’s all this is. That’s all it will ever be. She needs to stop overthinking. She needs to get ready for the day.

But even as she brushes her teeth and begins to brush through her hair, her thoughts keep circling back to those texts. To Asher. To Jo. And to the way Jo’s body had felt so warm and close and right against hers just minutes ago.

PAIGE STANDS in front of the mirror in the locker room, adjusting her uniform and smoothing her jersey. The bold, navy #5 stitched on the front catches her eye, and for a moment, she lingers. It feels almost strange, wearing the jersey she won’t be able to play in this season.

Not that she hasn’t come to terms with it. Paige is good at keeping herself together now, even if the pang of frustration hasn’t entirely disappeared—and won’t, she knows, until she gets to play again. But she’s learned to deal with it, to channel her energy elsewhere. If she can’t be on the court, she can still be here—still lead, still help her team in every way she can.

Her hair is perfectly straightened, sleek and sharp, the way she likes it. Her makeup looks good, too—just enough to emphasize her sharp cheekbones and blue eyes, but nothing overdone. The uniform ties it all together, making her look just like the player she’s supposed to be, the one she still is even if she’s stuck on the sidelines.

She takes a couple mirror pics—her annual media day mirror pics. They come out well, and she posts them to Instagram with the caption “5’ll be back soon,” because it will. She will.

By the time the day is in full effect, Paige knows the drill: photos, videos, soundbites for promos. She takes a few solo shots first, her expression switching between serious and smiles for the camera. Then it’s duo photos—first with Azzi, then with Nika and Aaliyah, her classmates. They laugh and joke between snaps, Nika managing to pinch Paige and Aaliyah during one, probably getting a perfect reaction picture.

Whilst Jo is getting her photos done, Paige is off to the side, hyping her up. When she makes Jo laugh—loud and sudden, the kind that makes her throw her head back—Paige is the one who catches the photographer’s eye. He gestures for her to join Jo, saying how he likes their energy together. Paige does as he asks, coming into view of the camera.

They stand side by side, first posed with their arms crossed, meant to look tough and intimidating. Then, the photographer tells Jo to lean her arm casually on Paige’s shoulder. Jo does, and it feels so normal, so them, that Paige doesn’t even notice how close they are until the photos pop up on the photographer’s screen.

“Yo,” Paige says, leaning in closer to the preview image. “We look good.”

Jo grins, nudging the blonde with her elbow. “Yeah, we do.”

And they do. There’s something about the way they look together—Jo’s darker features contrasting with Paige’s lighter ones, their postures balanced between playful and powerful—that feels striking.

When the photographer tells them they’re done, Jo taps Paige on the back lightly, her touch lingering for a half-second too long. Paige pretends not to notice.

They continue on through a mix of photos, promo videos, and shorter interviews. Paige’s role as “Coach P,” as everyone’s begun calling her, doesn’t go unnoticed.

Nika, of course, has to chime in. “That girl ain’t my coach,” she mutters loud enough for everyone to hear, shaking her head while she stirs a few laughs from their teammates and some of the media coordinators.

Paige rolls her eyes but before she can respond, Jo cuts in, throwing her arms around Paige’s shoulders from behind and resting her chin right by Paige’s neck. “You’re right, Nik,” Jo says, her voice teasing as her arms tighten slightly around Paige. “She’s not your coach. She’s mine.”

Nika hisses at her in mock annoyance, making Jo laugh loudly as she lets go of Paige—though not before making sure to squeeze Paige’s shoulders fondly.

Paige hardly notices the way Nika flicks at Jo’s arm afterwards, or the way Jo sticks her tongue out at her. Instead, her brain replays the words—she’s mine.

Mine, mine, mine, mine.

It’s not like that, though. And, goddamn, she has to get herself together.

Luckily, she has an interview waiting for her, so she doesn’t have long to continue dwelling on it. Except, actually, she thinks she might be unlucky, because when she spots Celeste Sinclair waiting for her with that soft little smirk and a glint in her eyes, Paige almost groans aloud.

She supposes she did this to herself, though. It’s not like she didn’t know Celeste was one of their media girls when she started fucking her—it’s literally how they met.

As Paige approaches, Celeste’s eyes sweep over her, lingering just a fraction too long on the way her uniform fits. Paige notices it immediately, and begins to steel herself.

“Paige,” the redhead greets, her tone syrupy and professional, but there’s a flicker of something else underneath. Something Paige is very familiar with.

“Celeste,” Paige replies evenly, keeping her expression neutral. She folds her hands in front of her, trying not to let her irritation show. She doesn’t have time for this—doesn’t have the patience or willpower to handle another girl turned obsessed—but media day is about appearances, so she plasters on a polite smile and takes the mini mic Celeste offers her.

The questions start predictably enough. Celeste asks about her recovery, her plans for the future, how she’s adjusting. Paige answers each question with the kind of practiced ease she’s managed to master over the years. She talks about her rehab process, about staying focused, about how the comeback will be stronger than the setback. The words feel automatic now, almost rehearsed.

Still, it stings a little. Every time she’s reminded that she won’t touch the court this season, that she’ll have to watch from the bench while her teammates fight for another championship, there’s a flicker of frustration she can’t quite extinguish.

But she doesn’t let it show. Obviously.

Celeste presses on, asking something about how Paige is adapting to her new role as a leader from the bench, and Paige forces herself to smile through it. She talks about embracing the role of “Coach P,” about how it’s just as important to support the team off the court as it is on it. She doesn’t let her voice waver, doesn’t let any of the bitterness slip through.

When the interview finally wraps, Paige exhales quietly, ready to walk away—but Celeste steps closer, cutting her off.

“So,” Celeste says, her voice dropping just enough to make it clear this part isn’t for the cameras. “You’ve been busy out west, yeah? I—you haven’t been back at all lately.”

Paige sighs a little. “Yeah, well. Rehab and stuff. You know how it is.”

Celeste tilts her head. “I do. Still, I thought you might text or call or something. I left you a few messages, but you never answered.”

Paige resists the urge to roll her eyes. Celeste’s persistence is both flattering and annoying. Yeah, the sex had been good—but was it genuinely good enough for Celeste to continuously run after Paige when she’s made it more than obvious that she doesn’t really want her? Paige doesn’t think so.

But, then again, Paige is better with her tongue and fingers than Celeste is.

“Been busy,” Paige says again, brushing her off.

The red-haired girl doesn’t seem deterred, though. She leans in just slightly, murmuring, “Well, if you’re not too busy tonight or even later this week… ?”

Paige starts to shake her head, ready to shut it down. She has enough girls in her bed back in LA that she doesn’t need to make up for it here while she’s only back for a few days.

But then—her mind flashes to this morning. To Jo. To the messages from Asher. The pit that settles in her stomach when she saw the I love you and I miss you and the baby. Something about it still lingers, sharp and annoying, and Paige can’t quite shake it.

Before she really thinks about what she’s doing, she hears herself saying, “Actually, I am free tonight.”

Celeste’s face lights up, her smile widening. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Paige echoes, her tone casual, like she isn’t committing to something she’s already dreading a little. “I fly back to LA in a couple days, so tonight works.”

Celeste doesn’t bother hiding her excitement. “Perfect. Come over later?”

Paige nods and Celeste looks almost giddy as she finally walks away.

As Paige rejoins her teammates, sitting next to Jo, the brunette smirks at her a little, judging her arm and asking, “Again?”

Paige feels heat rushing up her neck and into her cheeks. “Stop, it’s nothing,” she says quickly.

Jo doesn’t press or tease her much like anyone else would, just letting out a little laugh under her breath before getting up for one of her own interviews.

Paige can’t help but watch her during it. And think.

Jo, asleep in her bed this morning, soft and peaceful and pretty. Jo, laughing loudly during their photoshoot. Jo, whose phone had lit up with messages from a boyfriend that Paige can’t stand to think about.

Her jaw tightens slightly, and she shoves the thoughts aside. She’s going to Celeste’s tonight. At least she’ll be doing something.

[dee-writes-anime]

Gojo's Mistletoe Madness

FEATURING Yuta Okkotsu x Reader

SUMMARY What's christmas without Gojo sticking his nose where is doesn't belong?

CONTENT WARNINGS fluff, childhood best friends to lovers, some satosugu lovin', megumi is embarrassed, yuji is an absolute angel, inumaki is attacked by a scarf :(

AUTHORS NOTE in honor of the holidays, some yuta fluff because he is my baby and I loveeee him :D

The halls of Jujutsu High were alive with holiday cheer. Fairy lights lined the walls, their soft glow reflecting off the snow-covered windows, and a giant Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner of the common room, adorned with handmade ornaments and sparkling tinsel. It had been Gojo’s idea to throw a holiday party, and no one had been able to refuse—not that they’d wanted to. The air was filled with laughter, the scent of hot cocoa, and the faint sound of holiday music playing in the background.

You stood near the fireplace, a mug of cocoa warming your hands, watching as Panda tried to wrap a scarf around Inumaki, who’d been protesting with a series of muffled “Salmon!” and “Tuna mayo!” Yuta stood beside you, his usual shy smile gracing his lips, the warmth in his expression unmistakable. He held his own mug, cradling it like a shield against his nerves, a gesture you’d grown familiar with over the years.

The two of you had been inseparable since childhood, bound by years of shared adventures and quiet moments. After Rika’s curse had been lifted and she’d ascended to the afterlife, you’d made the decision to follow Yuta to Jujutsu High. It hadn’t been an easy choice, but you couldn’t imagine leaving him to face this new chapter of his life alone.

“This is nice,” Yuta said softly, his voice almost drowned out by Nobara and Yuji’s playful argument over who’d eaten the last gingerbread cookie.

You turned to him, smiling. “It is. It’s been a while since we’ve had a moment to just relax.”

He nodded, his gaze drifting to the tree. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t think I would’ve made it this far without you.”

Your cheeks warmed at his words, and you looked away, focusing on your cocoa. Yuta had always been open with his gratitude, but it still made your heart flutter every time he said something like that. Before you could respond, Gojo’s booming voice cut through the room.

“Alright, everyone! Gather ‘round!” Gojo clapped his hands loudly, and the group slowly assembled in the center of the room, some curious, others suspicious about what he was planning.

Gojo’s signature grin widened as he pointed upward. “What’s a holiday party without a little tradition?” he announced, gesturing to the sprig of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling.

The murmurs in the room grew louder as people glanced around, speculating who might be the first victims of Gojo’s antics. Megumi, predictably, sighed heavily and muttered, “Why am I not surprised?” as Yuji immediately perked up beside him, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

“Oh-ho! Look who’s under the mistletoe!” Nobara’s triumphant voice cut through the chatter, and you froze, your eyes widening as you realized exactly where you and Yuta were standing—directly beneath the mistletoe.

“Yuta!” Yuji’s face lit up with pure glee, and he pointed dramatically. “You know what that means!”

Maki leaned back in her chair, smirking as she folded her arms. “This ought to be good,” she said, clearly enjoying the situation far more than she should.

Even Panda joined in, clapping his massive hands together. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

“Wait, wait,” Gojo interjected, holding up his hand like a conductor directing a symphony. “This is a momentous occasion. Let’s savor it. We can’t just rush the mistletoe magic.”

Across the room, Geto nudged Gojo with a knowing smile. “You really like stirring the pot, don’t you?” he asked, his voice low and amused.

Gojo tilted his head, his grin unfaltering. “Isn’t that why you keep me around?”

“Among other reasons,” Geto replied with a wink, earning a laugh from the taller man.

Meanwhile, Yuta’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he looked at you, his wide eyes mirroring your own embarrassment.

“We don’t have to… I mean, if you don’t want to…” he stammered, his voice barely audible over the chants growing louder around you. His grip tightened slightly on his mug, a nervous tic that you knew all too well.

You bit your lip, feeling equally flustered. But as you looked into Yuta’s eyes, you saw the same nervousness mixed with fondness that you felt. Taking a deep breath, you decided to take the leap.

“It’s fine,” you said softly, giving him a reassuring smile. “It’s just a kiss, right?”

His blush deepened, but he nodded. Slowly, almost tentatively, he leaned closer. The room erupted into cheers and wolf whistles as your lips brushed against his in a soft, fleeting kiss. It was over almost as quickly as it had begun, but the warmth of it lingered, spreading from your cheeks to your chest.

As you pulled back, the room’s volume surged with excitement. Nobara was laughing so hard she nearly doubled over, and Yuji high-fived Panda while shouting something about how “Yuta finally got his act together.”

“That… wasn’t so bad,” Yuta said shyly, his voice barely audible amidst the commotion. His gaze stayed locked on you, and for a moment, the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you.

“Not bad at all,” you replied, your voice light but warm. The smile you shared was enough to make your heart flutter all over again.

Gojo clapped his hands dramatically, drawing everyone’s attention back. “Alright, folks! Who’s next? The mistletoe’s not done yet!”

Megumi, who had been trying to edge away from the group, found himself stopped by Yuji grabbing his wrist. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, Fushiguro! Mistletoe rules apply to everyone!”

“Yuji,” Megumi hissed, his face bright red. But Yuji just grinned, leaning in close enough to press a quick, teasing kiss to Megumi’s cheek. The room erupted into another round of laughter, and Nobara nearly fell onto the couch, laughing so hard tears formed in her eyes.

Across the room, Geto nudged Gojo with his elbow. “Looks like we’re the only ones slacking,” he said with a sly smile.

Gojo leaned in with a dramatic flourish, pressing a deep kiss to Geto’s lips, even managing to slip in some tongue that made Megumi groan loudly. 

"Why did I expect anything less,” Geto pulled away, laughing.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of laughter and joy, punctuated by more mistletoe antics and playful teasing. But you couldn’t help sneaking glances at Yuta, who seemed equally distracted. Every time your eyes met, he’d give you that shy, heart-melting smile, and you’d feel the butterflies all over again.

As the party wound down and everyone began to retreat to their rooms, Yuta walked you back to your door.

“Thanks for… you know, not running away earlier,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

You grinned, leaning against the doorframe. “Thanks for not running away either.”

He chuckled, his gaze softening. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Yuta.”

And as he walked away, his hands stuffed in his pockets and a slight bounce in his step, you couldn’t help but think that this was the best holiday you’d ever had.

[stabortega]

NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Having to deal with the aftermath of that situation was definitely worse then finding out the truth.

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!G!P!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Mentions of sex, dirty talking and sexting. Knife play. Mentions of kinks, nothing explicit. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's Note: Still think my writing is trash but you guys seem to like it. 💜

MASTERLIST.

"What the actual fuck?!" Jasmine almost yelled as Jenna shoved her inside one of the dressing rooms in the set, while she tried to shut the other actress up. "Thank god someone's paying that poor girl's college."

"This is not fucking funny, Jasmine. I shouldn't have told you." Jenna locked the door behind her, looking at her apprehensively. She made a terrible mistake by telling Jasmine what went on last night. "And now they expect me to work with her? After I-"

"Seen her dick? Oh god, what will be of you?" The black girl laughed, while sitting down on the couch. "Chill, alright? She probably doesn't even know you donated. I mean, what was your username?"

Jenna gulped. "I don't wanna say it."

"Come on, was it that obvious??" Jasmine rolled her eyes, waiting for an answer.

"It was my first name then the first four digits of my birthday."

"I cannot fucking believe you."

Living in New York wasn't easy. Every apartment was obnoxiously expensive, so you had to resort to leave the city and start living in Brooklyn. It was a nice neighborhood, the best you could afford if we're being completely honest. Moving to the big city was by far the best and the worst decision you've ever made. Other than starting college, obviously.

I mean, you loved every second of it, but it started to fuck your financial life right up the ass.

"You should create an Only Fans or something." You almost spit the whiskey shot you were drinking right back to your cup, looking at your friend as if she just told you that she had killed three men with a needle. "I'm serious, (Y/N). Do you know how much money you can get just by posting out some feet pics, or whatever?"

"I'm not gonna sell pictures of my feet for cash, Liana." She shook her head no while taking a sip of her Appletini.

"Then don't. Sell your dick pics, or livestream. Come on, I know how much you're struggling and you know you're putting that body to waste. What's the worse thing can happen?"

And she was right. You started out with just an account on that website, posting some pictures here and there; until one of your followers suggested livestreaming and said she would pay some good money just to watch you cum on your stomach (which obviously, she did). It happened so fast that, when you realized it, you were able to get yourself a better place right downtown, pay off your college debts and buy a professional video camera to shoot some amateur movies. And no, not the pornographic kind.

You wanted to be a director someday, but you were also really good with a camera; which is why you got the opportunity to work in the upcoming Scream movie as an assistant videographer (and because Liana put in a good word for you). It was your first real gig in your area of interest, you couldn't be more excited.

The first day was just like any other. You got to meet a few people and get a hold of the equipments you were going to use.

"Ay, (Y/N)! Come here for a sec!" Your boss, Dave, called your name while you were looking at one of the IMAX cameras, which you've never got the opportunity to film with. You realized he wanted to introduce you to some people, which he did. You just didn't expect it would be one of the protagonists (and the newest it actress of Hollywood). "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenna."

You extended your hand for her to shake, which she did after looking at it for a couple of seconds, almost if she was analyzing you. "Nice to meet you too, (Y/N)."

And that was pretty much it, you guys didn't exchanged any other words besides that on that particular day. You even thought that she could be avoiding you, for whatever reason. All throughout the day, you felt her gaze on you multiple times, but everytime you looked at her, she just looked away.

"You're definitely not subtle." Jasmine whispered in Jenna's ear, while she watched you handle one of the camera films. "I'm pretty sure that she can physically feel your eyes on her butt as we speak."

"She's definitely gonna find out that I was on her stream last night." The Ortega took a deep breath, looking away when she realized you looked at her again.

"She's not, don't get paranoid. You have the most obvious and boring username ever? Yes. It would take just one Google search to figure out your identity? It would. But still!" Jenna got up from the chair she was sitting, realizing that all she wanted to do was to smoke this off.

"You're not helping, Jasmine." She took out her pack of Marlboro's and her lighter once she was outside. "I never even watched porn before, not even by myself."

"And now you donated $1500 to a complete stranger just so she could cum while moaning your name. That's a character development." Jasmine stood beside Jenna, who had just started smoking so she could even try to forget that she wanted to sit on her coworker's dick less than 24 hours ago.

"I'm never doing that again, Jasmine. It's inhumane and gross. It was the first and the last time."

jenna2709: thought about you a lot today.

"Oh, did you? Good to hear that." She locked the door behind her and sat on her bed. That was Jenna's, at least, 10th day of watching your streams nonstop. And she had just "caught" you in the beginning of your livestream (which meant that she had the notifications of your page on and was too much of a chicken to admit it). So that meant that you weren't even undressed yet, you were just rubbing your dick over your sweatpants and chatting a litte bit with your followers before you started your actual show. "What exactly were you thinking of, huh?"

jenna2709: of me sucking your cock under this table while you tell me how much of a good girl i am.

Jenna realized what she said after she already sent the message. Where did that came from? She thought while looking intensely at the livestream, hoping you would just stop with the teasing and take your cock out of your pants for her to see (and drool). "Oh baby, I'm sure you're very good with your mouth. Wanted to cum right on your throat and make you swallow every drop."

jenna2709: i would be honored to be your cum dump.

"Okay, I crossed the line." She took a deep breath, not even recognizing who was that person inside of her, the person that would say the most obscene and erotic shit that she ever heard. It was almost if something awakened inside of her everytime she saw you. Every couple of days, at exactly 10PM, she would lock herself in her hotel bedroom and fuck her pussy so deep until she passed out from having like, five orgasms. And that was the easy part, obviously. The hardest part was definitely waking up in the morning and having to look at you as if she didn't saw your dick inside of a fleshlight the night before.

Jenna grew up christian. In a american dream type of household. But getting in touch with Hollywood and all of the film industry made her get out of her bubble and quite literally, discover the world. She drank, she smoked, she went to 2AM parties at some A-List celebrity's house that she never even met before. But sex? Never sex. She met a few people here and there, but nothing further. It made her think about that, the fact that she couldn't even be interested enough in someone to actually have some sort of contact with them; but with you, she would stay all night thinking about you fucking her raw and senseless until she couldn't remember who she was.

"Stop teasing, Jenna. We both know you were born to be my cum dump, and mine only." You were so horny imagining having that stranger on her knees while she had her mouth open, waiting for you to dump your cum inside of her pretty little throat. You took your cock out of your pants, a little bit earlier than you've expected, but you were getting so worked up that you didn't even thought about your stream routine. You started to stroke the member gently, feeling your dick pulsate right on the palm of your hand. "I know that you're the only one who can take care of this right, don't you think?"

jenna2709: if you were mine, i would make you cum on my pussy everyday.

Jenna started to get scared. Who was this person that was hiding inside of her? Was she really like that? Is she the female version of Christian Grey and doesn't know it yet? How the fuck she got so horny all of a sudden?

She knew that the reason you were playing that little game with her was merely money. But there was a part of her, a tiny part that hoped that you felt attracted to her as much as she felt to you. Even if you'd never seen her face, or her body. It didn't mattered if she had just met you a couple of days ago; she wanted you to want her, the same way she wanted you.

"And if you were mine, I would carve my name on your belly so everyone would know who you belong to." Oh yes, the knife play.

Jenna wasn't naive or innocent, she knew about fetishes and BDSM practices; and thankfully there was the option of marking your kinks on your own profile when you created your account. The actress spent an embarrassing amount of time researching some of your kinks that were listed on your profile (there was so many things she didn't even knew existed, to be completely honest). And the thought of you doing all of those things with her got her aroused in a matter of seconds.

jenna2709: you could carve your name on my face, for all i care.

jenna2709: i would definitely want people to know that i'm yours.

The rest of the livestream went as usual, you doing all of the things that your subs asked you to, Jenna being awarded as the number 1 tipper for the 5th time in a row, nothing out of the ordinary. You were just about to cum for the second time when Jenna tipped you again with a request.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $2000 with the message: i want you to cum for me, again.

"You know I never decline your requests, baby. But, let's be fair this time around?" You answered, a little bit breathless, masturbating your cock as hard as you could. "I'll give you a private livestream if you show me your face."

Oh, a private livestream?

Jenna had been following your for awhile now ever since her first time watching your stream. She knew that private livestreams weren't something you did. And yet, you were here, offering one for free, just to see Jenna's face in return. It was a really good offer, but Jenna couldn't accept. If you found out who she was, the shooting would be the most awkward work experience for both of them. It would be like, "Hey, (Y/N)? Can you get this camera ready for me? Also, I've already seen your dick and I'm having wet dreams with you fucking me like the slut I am." So, she took one last breath after she decided to stick with her original plan and decline.

jenna2709: it's a deal.

[owliellder]

The Finer Details

Post DI! Leon Kennedy x f! Painter Reader

MDNI 18+

(Session 1, Session 2, Session 3, Session 4, Session 5, The Reveal)

Description: Leon realizes that retirement is in his best interest now that he's getting older. All of his accomplishments as an agent mean he's truly earned a painting to commemorate..

Warnings: Not Proofread, Age gap! (reader is anywhere between mid-late 20's and Leon is 40), Porn w/ Plot, Use of she/her pronouns, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Alcoholism, mentions of trauma/PTSD/depression, P in V smut (wrap it NEOW), Leon cries during sex 💔

Tags: Older Leon Kennedy, Younger afab!Reader, Leon is SAD but he is your muse, Crying, mentions of Leon masturbating, starts off with Dom! Leon and Sub! Reader, falls into switch territory because that man needs some serious TLC, Praise kink, Hickeys, Handjob, Nipple play, Oral sex (m! and f! receiving), and a heavy dose of Aftercare

Final Word Count: 22.6k

Author's Note: Ta-da! I put a lot of work into this last chapter, like actually becoming the president for a couple hours, but I really wanted to make it worth everyone's time for sticking around and reading all the way through.

Thank you so much for following along! All the sweet comments from you guys never fails to make my day!

^//v//^

Cross posted on AO3

The Reveal

Almost three months.

It took almost three months for Leon's portrait to fully dry after it had been varnished. You'd checked it almost daily after the two month mark due to Leon's constant pestering. He was understandably antsy, and admittedly, you were too.

There was a lot of convincing involved, but you managed to keep the man at home while you transported the painting to the White House. He worried it would be damaged en-route. Such a little worry wart.

Setting up the painting's respective spot a column away from Chris and Claire's seemed very appropriate; tall, fake bushes sitting on either side of where it would be placed, a warm yellow bulb lighting up the inside of the decorative archway, and the patterned golden frame where the canvas would forever be now hung empty in that portrait hallway, waiting to be pieced together and completed.

The shiny gold placard had already been screwed onto the frame, words zapped on it via laser:

Leon S. Kennedy

USSTRATCOM Agent from 1998 - 2011

D.S.O. Agent from 2011 - 2017

You knew how long he'd been working as an agent, but it was still baffling nonetheless. Nearly 20 years of non-stop intense and usually very traumatizing work, what a feat.

Moving on, you'd worked out the plans for Leon's farewell party with the President and a few coordinators over the span of a few days, making sure to store the painting in a secure room for the time being. It was to stay covered with a violet piece of velvet cloth up until the reveal at the party, no one was allowed to see it besides you, the President, and the various security guards working the grounds.

After another two extra months of waiting, the farewell party was drawing near. There had to be enough time given for invitations to be sent out to people, wait for said people to RSVP, and allow travel time. And at this point, Leon was busting at the seams; extremely nervous, excited, and even a little scared at the prospect of it all.

Your words from that second painting session all those months ago never left his mind: "Seeing the portrait once it's finished is going to be an incredibly emotional ordeal. It's a reminder that this is truly the end of an era for you, Mr. Kennedy..."

The man clung to that, doing his best to internalize it and mentally prepare himself for what was to come. He was hoping you were exaggerating, but from what Chris, Claire, and even Jill have told him about their experience after the fact, he knew deep down that you'd seen it all too well before.

What Leon failed to realize was that he wasn't alone anymore. Sure he had his friends to help, but he'd never had someone to come home to everyday.

During the last few sessions, he had asked to stay with you at your apartment, citing the potential aftermath of the party as reasoning. However, you really didn't need him to explain his reasoning, you would've let him. Even if he just felt like it, you would've welcomed him with opened arms.

Besides, he'd already been staying at your place for longer periods of time over the months. You'd visited his house a few times, but he made sure to whine and complain about how bare and boring it was. If you remember correctly, Leon had said, word for word, that your apartment "felt like a warm hug". With that, he shelled up with you in only a couple weeks before the painting had dried. He made special effort to learn your routine, wanting to give you the space that you needed while also maximizing his time spent with you.

Leon was an actual angel, you were wholeheartedly convinced. Some days you would come home after working on another painting to the man cooking dinner, having bought an expensive wine to share with you. When your hands would start to ache and your back and shoulders were sore from the long hours spent holding a paintbrush in an awkward hunched position, he would set aside anything he had going on just to give you all the massages, kisses, and love that you could ever want.

Nothing was ignored when it came to you and your wants and needs. Leon admitted awhile back that he felt guilty for intruding on your space, though you were very quick to shut that down. He was far from a burden, actually lining up more with a dream come true.

And just like he did with you, you spared nothing while getting to know the in's and out's of the man that occupied your mind, heart, and home. You learned his favorite meals, watched his favorite shows and movies with him, returning the massages when he would return from the gym, and paid extra attention to how he liked to be held at night. Who would've guessed that the Leon Kennedy loved to be the little spoon?

What you spent the most time on was making sure to listen when he suddenly went on tangents about his past. They really did haunt him. You would wake up in the middle of the night to him huddled at the top of the bed, arms wrapped around his legs and head between his knees as he did his best to cry quietly. All you could do for him in those moments was pull him against your chest, gently rocking him back and forth while whispering sweet nothings, just until he felt either ready to talk or ready to fall back asleep. If he just wanted more comfort, then that's what he got, obviously.

He was only recently put on a couple medications to help him better manage his PTSD and anxiety since he really had to cut back on the alcohol in order to take them the way he needed. Definitely worth it to both you and him seeing as his nightmares lessened in intensity and frequency.

Now here you were, straightening out Leon's tie for him since his hands were failing him, nerves getting the better of him. He had taken his meds a few minutes ago, wanting to have the full effect during the party to combat any destructive behaviors during it, so it was no wonder his hands were still trembling.

"You're going to do so well, Leon." You smiled, giving him a gentle pat between his pecs after tucking his tie into his suit jacket. He was staring straight ahead, eyebrows furrowed with worry as he stared at himself in the mirror. "You've made so much progress and I couldn't be any prouder."

He licked his dry lips before slowly looking down at you, giving you the best smile he could, which was really just him pulling his lips back tight. If it weren't for you constantly being around to encourage him and push him to get better, he would not be able to attend his own farewell party.

How had he managed to get so far without this level of love and care? Where would he even be without you? Hopefully later when his mind isn't racing a million miles per minute, Leon will be able to tell you just how lucky he is to have you in his life.

Leon watched you in the mirror as you walked around to stand behind him, straightening out his suit jacket in random spots until deciding to just wrap your arms around his midriff, pressing the side of your face against his back with a content sigh. He brought his still-trembling hands up to hold onto your arms, rubbing his thumbs up and down across your soft skin.

His eyes settled back on his own face after staring at your arms linked around him, letting out a shaky sigh of his own as he attempted to just focus on this moment. You were perfect, ethereal, a true work of art. He wouldn't trade any of this for the world.

It took some time, about an hour, before Leon's medication was starting to kick in. You were definitely a big help, he couldn't give all the credit to his meds.

His relaxed demeanor wasn't easy to spot, the man was just naturally rigid, but you waited until he let you know that he was ready; ready to go to his farewell party, ready to see the portrait you painted for him, ready to put in the effort into accepting the next chapter in his life.

The drive to the White House was seamless, having been picked up in a blacked out SUV that held four personal guards, courtesy of the President. Leon wasn't going to complain, he actually kind of liked the pampering effect that came with being driven around by a dedicated entourage.

Almost all good feelings were drained from Leon when the car finally pulled up to the front of the White House where more guards stood waiting to escort the two of you inside. It was still early in the night, but the sun had set long ago, making for quite the beautiful atmosphere.

He could see numerous party attendees walking up the stairs, dressed up in their fanciest outfits for him. He held your hand the entire way up the stairs and into the entrance hall with a grip that was sure to leave your hand hurting. No matter, you could tell he needed you. That vice grip he had was well worth it for his comfort.

There were quite a few more people than either you or Leon expected. It seems as if all available agents, young, old, and retired, had been sent an invitation for tonight, along with quite a few high-ranking government workers. Luckily, this was a private event; no reporters, no news, only those who had been fortunate enough to be invited.

The first to spot you two was Chris who quickly made his way over to pull Leon into a bone-crushing hug, giving him a few solid pats on the back before letting go. Leon only reciprocated the hug with one hand, the other refusing to let go of yours, though his grip had loosened by now.

"Where's Claire?" Leon muttered, leaning to the side to scan over the sizeable crowd. "She's.." Chris turned around to also scan the crowd, squinting a bit as he looked. "She's somewhere. My wife is with her, her family, and Jill."

Leon pursed his lips with a curt nod, humming quietly in acknowledgement before standing straight again. He glanced down at where his hand held yours, squeezing it again for just a second as if to remind himself that you haven't gone anywhere.

Chris had turned back around to see the small gesture Leon gave to you, a coy smirk on his face. "What uhh... what's all this, huh?" He subtly pointed between you and the other man, voice lowered.

Leon cleared his throat and looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear despite the volume in the hall. "... M'gonna save that for the-.. the speech." Chris just nodded, crossing his arms before slowly turning to look through the crowd again. "Alright, well, let me go find the family and bring them over before you're swarmed." And with that, Chris made his way back into the crowd.

Unfortunately, Leon had been spotted by the rest of the partygoers before Chris could return with everyone. Many pleasantries were repeated while also returning small talk with the people he recognized, which was a lot. You managed to avoid most of it, only being questioned a few times due to the rather obvious hold the man had on you. Despite having attended the last few parties like this, most people unable to recognize you as the artist. A blessing and a curse.

The next couple hours were spent eating finger foods, conversing with whoever, and enjoying the way Leon started to flow with the event. He soon found his way to Chris, Claire, their partners and kids, and Jill which really helped him loosen up. He needed the more familiar faces, having now let go of your hand fully to talk more animatedly with them. You made sure to stick by his side as long as you could, letting out a soft laugh every time you noticed his quick glances over to you to check if you're still there.

The time eventually did come for you to part with Leon, signaling a couple guards to follow you down a few hallways until reaching the room where the portrait sat, still covered with the violet cloth. The decision to keep it back here for so long was made by the President, wanting less of a sudden reveal and more of a build up.

Normally it would already be hanging in the entrance hall, covered and ready to be revealed, but not wanting to risk any potential damage, you were asked to hold off bringing it in until the President was ready to give the speech leading up to Leon's.

It'd been set in the golden frame rather quickly with the help from one of the guards that walked down with you. You had the guard to hold it up for you so you could give it one final good look before he was instructed to lead you back. After recovering, you took the portrait in both hands, holding it close as you were escorted back through the halls and into the main entrance hall.

By now everyone had directed their focus closer to the center of the back wall. Next to where the President stood, your own art easel was now set up. That was mostly as homage to you and it wasn't like anyone besides you would understand that it's yours, though Leon did pick up on that little feature. He'd been staring at the back of that thing for months, counted the various old streaks of paint on the pale wood over and over.

It made his farewell all the more personal, struggling to mask the feeling of the ever-growing pit in his stomach from the friends he was still standing next to.

The sound of a mic being tapped drew everyone's attention in to the President, the volume in the hall quieting to a whisper, soon completely silent as he began to speak into the mic;

"Ladies and gentlemen, I stand before you to honor and pay tribute to a true hero, a dedicated public servant, and a loyal friend who has served our nation with unwavering dedication for the past 19 years. It is with great respect and admiration that I address you on this occasion, as we bid farewell to a remarkable agent who has exemplified the very best qualities of service and sacrifice." As the President spoke, Leon held his breath, hands gripping onto his suit jacket to keep from trembling again.

At this point, you'd silently walked along the side with the guards from before, bringing the covered portrait up to the front before carefully placing it on your easel. "Throughout this nation's history, these agents have played an essential role in ensuring the safety and security of our nation's people and have consistently placed their lives on the line to protect the sanctity of our democracy. And today, we acknowledge one agent who has done so with unparalleled devotion."

"This retiring agent has been a silent sentinel, ensuring the continuity of our democratic ideals. Through countless hours of training, vigilance, and selflessness, they have demonstrated a level of commitment that is nothing short of extraordinary. But beyond their exceptional professional duties, this agent has been a friend and a confidant to those of us privileged to work alongside them. They have been a source of strength, a steady hand in turbulent times, and a symbol of the unbreakable bond that can form within the ranks of those who dedicate their lives to service."

You positioned yourself opposite of the President, placing your hands behind your back to keep your posture tall as you now smiled at the crowd, subtly scanning for Leon. His eyes were already on you when you found him, and your smile only widened further.

It prompted his own nervous smile, toying with the buttons on his jacket while turning his attention back to the President, wanting to remain respectful to his, honestly, very flattering speech so far. You followed Leon's eyes, seemingly having the same idea to just watch and listen.

"The sacrifices made by our agents often go unnoticed by the public, and that is by design. Their commitment to duty is matched only by their humility. But today, we pause to recognize and celebrate this retiring agent's dedication, valor, and sacrifice." The President continued to address the attendees in the room, giving you a quick nod before returning his focus to everyone in the entrance hall.

The President outstretched his hand towards Leon standing in the crowd, now staring at him with a prideful yet relaxed look. "To Mr. Leon S. Kennedy, our retiring agent and loyal friend, thank you for your 19 years of dedicated service to our nation. May your retirement be filled with the peace and contentment that you so richly deserve. You leave behind a legacy of honor and courage that will never be forgotten." The crowd of attendees clapped and cheered briefly, causing Leon to reach his hand up to wipe across his face. A poor way to hide his red face. He's done that before, hasn't he?

Once the crowd quieted back down, the President finished his speech with a classic, "May God bless you, your family, and may God continue to bless the United States of America. Thank you" before the crowd picked back up cheering and clapping. You clapped along with them, laughing at Leon's flustered expression. He could barely hold back his smile, not really have expecting to be so well recognized for his service.

Leon's queue to make his way to the front was when the President walked over to stand next to you, making sure not to block the covered portrait from anyone's view. He'd recited this speech to you countless times, even more to himself when he was alone, but all those eyes staring at him were causing him to fumble. He messed around with the mic once he was standing in front of it, and that was your queue to walk over and stand next to him, placing a loving hand on his forearm.

That's all he needed, just a little extra encouragement from the person he relied on the most. His speech was short and straight to the point, never having been a man of professional word, yet he still managed to slip in some words of praise for you and all the help you provided him during his rough patch earlier in the year.

Neither you or Leon had outright said it to each other, let alone to anyone else, but hearing him announce to the entire hall of people that you were his girlfriend made your heart soar. Speaking about you calmed his nerves, and he wanted everyone to know just how lucky he felt, like he'd hoped for earlier.

He bent over slightly to whisper in your ear, covering the mic with his hand to make sure it didn't pick up his voice. "Now, why don't you go ahead and show us all that masterpiece you spent months working on?" Oh, now you were the flustered one, giggling nervously as you gave his arm a gentle squeeze before walking over to where the painting sat on the easel.

"Ladies and gentleman," Leon's eyes followed you as he straightened his posture out, speaking into the mic once more with a wide smile gracing his features, "I'm honored to have the wonderful artist herself present my very own portrait to you." As he spoke, you carefully lifted the cloth from where it was draped over the painting, finally revealing the ever-awaited portrait to everyone.

Just like with Chris and Claire's, Leon was sat in that soft maroon chair, slightly off center, but his position was different with his right ankle rested atop his left knee, elbows on the arms of the chair while his hands rested in his lap, fingers interlaced. His smile was soft and partially crooked while he looked forward with relaxed eyes, a few strands of hair painted to sit in front of his brow. And to tie it all together, it had a lovely green background, a dark forest green as the base while a sage green was used to add texture. The vintage look had always been your favorite, and Leon fit it so perfectly. He was nearly timeless.

Many "ooo's" and "ahh's" were heard amongst the clapping from the crowd, along with a handshake from the President. Before you could turn to face Leon, you felt his arms slowly slink around you from underneath your arms, the weight of his head now pressing down on your shoulder. You could feel his grin when he tilted his head to kiss your jawline, beginning to gently rock you side to side. Getting to show off your work was always so rewarding, but just knowing Leon was handling everything so well was a feeling you'll truly never forget.

He was happy. That's all you ever wanted for him. The man has truly earned his portrait in that agent hall of fame.

The portrait was soon brought down to the aforementioned hall to be hung up and displayed for good, a few small groups trailing down to get a better look at it. Chris was the noisiest about it, telling Leon it looked like it belonged above a grand fireplace, to which said man agreed with.

Chris, Claire, Jill, and their respective families stared at it for quite some time alongside Leon and you. They all chatted while Leon stared quietly, taking in every little fine detail you'd added. You changed his position some, and did he really smile at you like that? He really did look lovestruck. Of course only he could tell that. Hopefully.

He surprised himself with how okay he felt after seeing the painting. You warned him multiple times that it would most likely be overwhelming and emotional, and while it was, it wasn't in a bad way. The most compelling thought he had right now was to just sweep you off your feet and smother you with love.

Leon asked one of the guards to take a picture of him with everyone, including you, in front of his portrait. Then, just a picture of you and him standing in front of it, easily becoming the background on his phone.

The party went on for only an hour or so more before people started to trickle out. You and Leon were some of the first to leave, saying all your thanks and goodbye's with hugs and handshakes.

The moment the two of you walked into your apartment he practically pounced on you before the door had shut, large hands gripping tight on your hips as he sloppily made out with you. He just had to show his gratitude for all your hard work.

Your lips tasted so sweet and your soft little moans were driving him wild, he couldn't help the groan that rumbled from his chest. Full blown sex had been held off by you, not wanting to rush him into anything while you helped him manage his problems. Honestly, he was glad you'd held off on him, because now that he was feeling like his own person again, it made waiting all the more fulfilling.

Leon hoisted you up into his arms after you'd kicked your heels off, holding onto the back of your thighs as he carried you to the bedroom. You wrapped your arms around his neck, giggling against his lips as he carefully navigated around the short hallway and into the bedroom.

You looked so good splayed out on the bed for him, that beautiful dress you chose was insanely flattering on you. It had to go though, so after yanking off his jacket he made quick work of your dress, fumbling with the zipper for a moment before pulling it up and over your head. Your bra and panties didn't last either. He'd only gotten to see you naked a couple times before, but god, he'll never get tired of seeing you this way, acting all shy like you weren't his favorite view.

Leon was so eager to get his hands on you that he neglected to take off his suit, opting instead to hover over you and bury his face into your neck. He wasn't a good artist, but he loved to cover your neck in shades of red and purple like you were his own little painting, akin to leaving his signature all over you.

He only pulled away once you tugged on his hair, listening to your begs and pleas for him to get his clothes off. As much as he wanted to prolong this night and tease you, he couldn't hold himself back. He needed to feel your soft skin against his.

"So perfect." Leon mumbled against your skin, licking and kissing his way up your stomach and to your breasts after practically ripping off his clothes. His hands found their way back to your hips, pressing them firm against the bed to keep you from squirming away as he nipped at one of your nipples, pulling it into his mouth.

He moaned as he sucked and circled his tongue around your nipple, his eyes falling closed. The other couldn't stay neglected, so he brought one hand up to pinch and tug at your other nipple, sighing when he felt your body press against his as you arched at the sensation. He loved when your moans would pitch, so cute.

His cock was pressed against the inside of your thigh, rutting against it when you would tug at his hair. Once he decided your nipples had enough attention, he sat up and grabbed the backs of your knees to place around his waist. The new position offered Leon the perfect opportunity to drag his leaking cock through your folds, pressing it down with his thumb so the tip would nudge your clit with every slow thrust forward.

You were so wet, so delicate. He could've fucked you right then, slid right into that juicy little pussy, but he needed to take care of you first. He would never forgive himself if he hurt you.

Reluctantly, the man pulled his dick away from you, letting out a poorly concealed whine at the loss. He ran his hands up your thighs before moving one hand so he could circle your clit with his thumb, the other hand back on your hip to keep you steady.

"L-eon~!" You brokenly moaned out, pleading to him with your watery eyes. You needed more; his fingers, his cock, anything. He couldn't say no to that, stopping his assault on your clit to drag his middle and ring finger through your drenched folds to wet them properly. He brought your right leg to sit over his shoulder, hand gripping the top of your thigh as he leaned forward, studying your face closely as he gently teased the outside of your slit with his middle finger.

He moaned with you as he slid his finger in, keeping his eyes trained on you as he started to tentatively thrust his finger in and out. "Yeah?" Leon whispered, licking his lips as you barely managed to nod. "Yeeeaah, there's my girl..." The rumble in his voice was music to your ears.

His ring finger was soon slid in next to his middle finger, switching between scissoring you and making a partial 'come here' motion with them. After only a couple minutes you were leaking all over his hand and the bed, the wet sounds of your pussy mixed with your moans making his cock jerk and drip with precum. Leon clenched his teeth as he slowly pulled his fingers from you, immediately bringing them to his mouth to suck off your juices. He let out an audible sigh after swallowing, repositioning his dick to slide through your folds a couple more times before nudging your hole with the tip.

"Look at me, baby..." Leon's hushed demand brought you to open your eyes, if only half way. He made eye contact with you before leaning forward further to kiss you, all the while finally pushing into you. He soaked in your gasp, his eyebrows furrowing as you tensed up. "Relax.. let me in~..."

"It's only me.." He panted, tilting his head to kiss the corner of your mouth as your eyes shut again. "It's only me, baby..." he repeated this a few more times as he eased his cock inside of you, the stretch only stinging for a moment before it turned to pleasure. He filled you perfectly, you could feel every bit of him, especially with his right hand adding a bit of pressure to your stomach.

Leon sat still for a minute to give you time to adjust, taking the way you moved your hips as a sign to move. He pulled out, all the way to the tip, before slowly thrusting back in. He managed to choke out a quiet "Fuck-.." when you clenched around him. "Taking me so well.. such a big girl~.."

He always knew just how to talk to you, making sure to take his time buttering you up. You were putty in his hands, and between his words and the feeling of him reaching so deep inside of you, you could barely think.

It didn't take long for him to start to lose his composure, the sound of wet skin slapping together filling the room as his thrusts intensified. "All mine. All for me." The grip he had on your thigh was sure to leave a bruise, but that was the last thing on your mind.

The hand he had pressing on your stomach moved further down so he could circle your clit with his thumb again, jaw tight as he looked from your blissed out expression to where his hand was playing with you. "Oh fuck! That's it!" Leon growled, eyes glued to your cunt as he plunged in and out of it. "Cream this dick, mamas~... Cum on my cock so I can fill this pretty pussy up.."

The way you gasped and moaned when you came was enough to warrant a noise complaint, but screw your neighbors. You needed this just as much Leon did.

"Oohhh fuck yeah.. Milk me, baby~... shit-" Leon's thrusts stuttered to a stop while pressed flush against you, abs flexing as he pumped ropes of cum into you. Once you managed to open your eyes, all you could do was stare at the man, flushed pink and sweaty, sitting between your legs. Both of you moaned in tandem as he pulled out, Leon groaning to himself as he watched his cum drip from your pussy. Truly a work of art meant for his eyes only.

He leaned over you again to plant a quick kiss on your lips, chuckling when he felt you smile. "Let me go grab something to clean you up, okay?" You could only nod in response, reaching your hand up to caress the side of his face before he stood up from the bed. He walked across the hall into the bathroom, wetting a soft rag with warm water before making his way back over to you.

Leon made sure to be gentle when cleaning you, the warmth from the rag soothing your tender skin. You were able to sit up on your elbows and watch him, using his gentle touches as a way to calm your still racing heart.

After wiping himself off with the rag, he tossed it over in the general direction of your laundry basket. It was a problem for later. Right now, he wanted lay back on the bed and pull you up so you could lay on top of him. Along with just how nice it felt to hold you, he loved the weight of you on him. So that's what he did, pulling you onto him after laying on the bed, running his fingers though your hair on the back of your head.

"Leon." You muttered against his collarbone. His eyebrows raised, yet his eyes were closed. "Mm?" His right eye peaked open when he felt you giggle. "What?"

"I love you." His fingers paused their ministrations at your words. You lifted your head up to look at him, growing worried with his shocked expression. "Sorry, is that too-" you choked on your words, stopped mid-sentence by Leon's arms suddenly squeezing the breath out of you with a very tight hug. He pulled you up just a little further so he could smush his lips against yours.

"I love you too!" He breathed out excitedly. "You don't know how long I've been waiting to tell you!" You tapped his arm and he immediately relaxed his grip, mumbling a small, "Sorry, my bad.." when you took in a deep breath.

"You're adorable, Leon." You shook your head with a smile, brushing the hair from his face to give him a much gentler kiss before settling you head back against his chest with a quiet sigh.

Leon was still a tough man, but you made him soft. Only ever soft for you.

Side note: I totally forgot to add in the pussy eating i am so sorry. i thought i did but it was literally just a thought that never manifested 😭

tags!: @greywardensaywhat @xkittiecatx @httpsuguru @httpsuguru @k-fallingstar @lysa1201 @bobastayhigh @pocketstoriesstore @agent-dessis-posts @klee-iii @missjoenowhere @mi-zer-y @bigtiddiesimp @finsternisle @sweets3rial @sodacolablast (there's a few of you that tumblr wouldn't let me tag for some reason)

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 16 all chapters

~AUTHOR'S WARNINGS: N$FW, SEXUAL CONTENT, COPIOUS SWEARING, TOXIC POSESSIVENESS , IF SOMEONE TREATS YOU LIKE THIS IN REAL LIFE RUN RUN RUN BC IT WILL NOT TURN OUT WELL U CANT FIX THEM~

-Aware that John Wick knows this city much better than you, you stick to the crowds. You manage to find your way to the Peggy Guggenheim collection, and you hang out there for hours, looking through the art works, but really only half seeing what is in front of you.

You are devastated.

You’ve had controlling boyfriends before, and it was not fun. They seem exciting at first, until the person you were before is eaten alive by their tantrums and their ridiculous expectations as they try to fit you into a box of their own making.

You can’t believe John turned out that way.

Or maybe you can. Maybe you have a fucking type, and you should have seen this coming.

You stay almost until closing, then grab a bite to eat before daring to wander the streets. You find a little walled in park, a courtyard filled with lush greenery and a tinkling fountain. By some miracle, there is only one other couple on a bench at the far end. You practically have the place to yourself, and you sit down on a wrought iron bench with a sigh and eat your sandwich.

You pull out your sketchbook afterwards to pass the time. Your doodling hand wanders, and perhaps its no surprise when you draw John Wick from memory, his proud lips and haunted eyes. There are tears running down your cheeks as you do so. When it gets too much, even though you’re in public, you hang your head and weep into your hands.

Darkness falls, and you know you should be getting back. The bench has long ceased to be comfortable, and yet it’s like you have grown into it, unable to move.

Even with your head down, when someone sits silently down beside you, you just know it’s John.

You do not look at him, and thankfully he does not try to touch you.

“It’s getting late, y/n. You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

“That’s none of your business.”

“Yes it is,” he insists, sounding almost tired about it. You hate it that your demeanor softens towards him, just a little.

“You broke my heart, Mr. Wick.”

“I was afraid I might.” He is sitting with his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped in front of him. “Would you let me make it up to you?” 

“I'm not sure that's a good idea.” 

“No?”

“No. I think you have a mean streak.” 

He had tried to warn you, you realize, in his way.

God, are you really such a fool?

“Doesn't everyone?” 

You make a sound between your teeth, and he nods like you have said something profound. 

“I'm not a nice man, y/n. But I would be good to you.”

“Like last night? I didn't like that.”

The corner of his mouth curves in a wicked smirk, and your heart skips a beat in your chest, damn him. Was the contrition all an act?

“Yes you did.”

“Not the last part.”

“Hmm. I tried to warn you.”

In the vaguest terms possible, maybe.

“My fanny.”

He raises an eyebrow to that, and you’re not sure why that little gesture wounds you like a knife to the heart all over again. Perhaps because he is beautiful, and even though you know he’s dangerous for you, you still want him so very much.  

You start to cry again, and try to get up from the bench. You need to get away from him, because you can’t think straight when he’s near.

“Y/n, wait.” He catches your wrist, and when you don’t really fight him, he pulls you down into his lap, and goddammit if this isn’t what you’d wanted all along. You feel small in his arms, cradled against his long torso and sheltered in the bend of his neck, even if in your hindbrain you know you are not actually safe at all. He strokes your hair until you quiet, and he kisses your temple like you are something precious.

How can this man be so sweet, just to turn on you?

“Why did you leave me, like that?”

You just do not understand. You could have had a lovely, fulfilling, mind-blowing if not vanilla night together. He’d laid all the groundwork like a master orchestrator, and you would have let him fuck you senseless. Fuck, you wouldn’t have even minded the tying up part, if he just hadn’t humiliated you.

“Because…” His lips ghost along the line of your jaw, and you fight not to squirm as his large hand slides up your thigh, his fingertips feather light on your skin. “Only good girls get to cum,” he says low in your ear, and you hate how it makes you ache between your legs, to hear him talk to you that way.

Outwardly, you do your best to keep your cool.

“And touching your hair made me a bad girl?”

“No.”

“Disobeying you did.”

“Yes.”

“That’s kinda fucked up.”

“Maybe.” He actually seems a little amused by you, which is not the reaction you were expecting. “I like to be in control. But you make me feel...unbalanced.”

“Me?” You sound incredulous. The thought that you could affect this powerful man in such a way seems absurd.

“Yes, you, kitten.”

The urge to demand he not call you that desiccates on your tongue. 

“So...what? You feel the need to take revenge for that?” 

“Maybe. I thought you knew the game we were playing, when you batted those big eyes up at me. Mr Wick, Sir, aren’t I a good girl?” His fingers dig into your thigh with the memory, and you can feel his growing erection beneath you. “But you’re just an innocent, aren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“You’re used to boys just eating out of the palm of your hand. But I am a man, with a man’s appetites, and a man’s desires.”

He was a little more than that, you reckoned.

“You want to control me.”

“That’s part of it.”

“Why?”

He smirks. “Maybe I had a rough childhood.”

You can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

“I want to take care of you.” He kisses your cheek again, and it is gentle and sweet and everything you had wanted from Mr. Wick, before this all went sideways. “I want you to be mine.”

You are not proud of the way those words unleash a fluttering swarm of butterflies in your belly, your breath quickening in your chest. You are proud when you manage to answer, “I don’t need taking care of.”

He just snorts lightly at that, as if it’s not even worth arguing over. “Come back to the hotel room with me. I promise I’ll finish what I started. With interest.” His hand slowly slides up your thigh, just beneath the skirt of your sundress, and you think you might die. You should not want this man, after what he did to you.

The ache between your legs suggests otherwise.

You give yourself some points, when you shake your head.

“No. I’m going back to my hostel.”

The shift in his demeanor gives you whiplash, a thunderhead of a frown pulling his handsome features. “Need to get back to your little friend Javi?” The jealousy in his tone hot as a brand. “Did he try to kiss you again?”

Your heart drops to your feet.

“How did you know he tried to kiss me?” you ask, your voice so small.

That was in Rome, after all.

What should have been obvious before comes crashing in, and you realize what a little fool you’ve been. That feeling that someone’s been watching you, and John’s so convenient and coincidental appearance outside the alley…

“Holy shit. You’ve been following me.”

“I’ve been protecting you.”

“Excuse me?”

“You have no idea what the world is really like, sweetheart. It’s a dangerous place.”

You frown at this.

“So…you think I’m stupid?”

“No, of course not.”

“You think I can’t take care of myself then.”

“I think I found you wandering around here like a lost little lamb. There are monsters here who would have gobbled a sweet little treat like you up in one bite.”

The fact that he sees you that way is more alarming than the thought of some unnamed threat in the shadows.

For some reason it makes you think of the men in the van back home—and how that van was found empty and on fire.

“How do you know about the monsters, John?”

“I just know.”

“You said you weren’t a cop. Were you FBI?”

He glares at you, which you take as a no.

“Interpol?”

You are met with silence, and you nod, mostly to yourself.

“You know about the monsters because you are one.” You think about those fierce looking Italian men with their scars and their bespoke suits. His previous words echo in your memory. Sono retirato.

“Were you in the mob?”

“Not…specifically.”

Then you remember he’d said he was from Belarus.

“Bratva, then.”

You should be terrified as you work all this out, trapped in the circle of this man’s arms, but you feel strangely numb about it all.

“My clever girl.” He sounds almost sad about it.

“Not clever enough,” you sigh.

You are not sure who is more surprised, you or him, when you burst to your feet. You actually manage to slip out of his grasp, though you only make it three steps before he captures your wrist again with a grip like an iron manacle. He gives you a dark look, annoyed that you would even try to play this game with him.

You remember what you learned in martial arts class a lifetime ago, pointing your thumb down towards the weak point of his grip and trying to jerk free. It’s worked before, with grabby men.

Not with John Wick, though.

“Stop.” Again, there’s that steely tone. The alpha voice one uses to reprimand a naughty dog. It only makes you angrier, and you struggle.

He pulls you hard against him, and you bite his hand. He doesn’t let you go, just adjusts his grip. “I didn’t want to do it this way,” he snarls low in your ear. “But you are so fucking stubborn.”

“Thank you.” You try to headbutt him behind you, but he ducks into the bend of your shoulder. You feel his chest trembling against your back, and only belatedly do you realize he is laughing at you.

“Enjoying this?”

“A little.”

“There’s no fucking way you can get me out of here without someone seeing. Let me go.”

He just sighs into your hair, like you’ve said something extremely naïve.

The arrival of newcomers into the park catches both of your attention. You lift your head, ready to ask for help, when you recognize the besuited tough guys from before.

Well, fuck.

“You've got some balls, showing your face around here, John Wick. Gianna d’Antonio’s son sends his greetings.”

“This isn’t a good time,” he snarls in return.

“Sorry, are you too busy fighting with your little girlfriend?”

He actually releases you then, pushing you to stand behind him. They are blocking the exit, so for now, you comply.

“You know how this will go,” John says, assuming a ready stance, his feet spread. He almost sounds regretful about it. “Do yourselves a favor, and leave.”

“Can’t do it, John,” says the one in the lead.

“For fuck’s sake,” curses John under his breath. The lead Italian makes a move, and John bursts into action. He is like a tornado of carnage upon them, throwing punches and breaking arms, cutting tendons and stabbing throats.

You are absolutely frozen as you watch all this unfold before you.

That is, until one of the thugs throws a knife at John, and you watch it bury in his chest. This is the thing that breaks your spell, and you run towards the fray with a scream, though who the fuck knows what you intend to do.

However, like he wasn’t just stabbed in the heart, John takes another attacker’s gun, pistol whipping him with it before shooting the knife thrower, then the last one standing. It cannot have been more than minute, before all of them are dead at his feet. He leans on his bent knees for a moment, catching his breath.

“John?” You hardly recognize your own voice as you rush to him, certain he’s taken a lethal blow and somehow fought through it with the surge of adrenaline. However, when you peel back his suit jacket you find no blood. He lets you look him over with frantic hands, maybe enjoying the fact that you don’t wish him dead, before pulling the still protruding knife from the breast of his jacket.

When he produces the little leather journal you’d gifted him from his inside pocket, now gravely marred with a puncture through the cover, you understand.

“Holy fuck.”

“You saved my life,” he says with an odd little smile down at you, as though all this is normal and what you just saw is totally ok.

Utterly horrified, you run.

“Y/n, wait!”

You throw yourself into the dark winding streets, taking any turn you can, trying to stay out of sight. Your feet fly beneath you; even in your shitty strappy sandals, it’s the fastest you’ve ever run.

It’s not fast enough.

When strong arms close around you, lifting you from the ground, you try to scream. A big hand clamps over your mouth, and you find yourself pressed hard into a stone wall. “Please, calm down,” he pants in your ear, out of breath from killing four people then running you down.

Your answer of, “Are you fucking kidding me?” is nothing but muffled syllables.  

“Goddammit,” he sighs behind you, rifling in his pocket for something as he pins you with his body. “This is not how I wanted this to go.”

Your pitiful plea of “Let me go,” is cut off by an evil-smelling cloth shoved into your nose.

[deathbyoctopi]

Xuexiao Art Shoutout ^-^

It will be soon 2 years since I asked for my first art commission ever, after months of wanting to do so, but being deathly scared by it.

What if I ask it wrong, what if I don't like it, what if I pay but then it is a scam, what if it's too expensive and I have to back away in shame, what IF these are all my fears and I didn't even know any reliable artists or had asked any mutuals for tips or recs.

What motivated me for the big step forward was me writing a gift fic for someone very dear to me, which featured a piece of art within the story itself. It seemed so fitting, to make art for it. I held my heart in courage and dared to ask an artist I had seen here, in tumblr.

This artist was @wrathyforest.

Now, I don't remember anymore why I choose them. Probably I saw some xuexiao fanart by them that I liked, or saw somewhere that they were available for commissions, but the thing is with trembling hands I wrote a long dm asking about whether they would accept to draw an art such and such. This turned out to be one of the best decisions I have ever made in this website.

For the last two years, I've had the privilege of receiving more artwork by them, all xuexiao (because my BELOVEDS!!!) and all of exceptional quality and deep understanding of the characters. This is why now I want to make a little shoutout to these works, and to the process that went into asking them, in part to show other people how engaging, fascinating and rewarding it is to commission artist.

This is (with ONE exception) my little xuexiao art collection. Have at it!

Family portrait

My first art commission ever. My heart goes with it! This is the aforementioned art for the fic To carry a bit of yesterday, written for @itellmyselfsecrets97 and which features the Yi City trio going to make a portrait of themselves.

This was also very special to me, since it was only my second xuexiao fic ever written, and the first that was a self-contained oneshot. It must have left an impact, it remains a well-loved fic to the point that a fic was written from it (The Tell-Tale Art by @fieri-sentio-et-excrucior).

I explained the artist what I needed from it, gave the full paragraph in the fic where they were described, and pointed out little details to adjust once the first draft was show to me (Forest, forgive me for being so picky with Xiao Xingchen's legs). I cried with the results.

My second commission came a few months later, with a pic for another work of art...

Defenseless

Now that I see you is an amazing fic by @10holmes with the incredibly exciting premise of a non-visually impaired Xiao Xingchen coming across Xue Yang, on the brink of death and... completely honest-to-god amnesiac.

I had followed this long project (still ongoing) for months, and had left some comments to the author, but at some point this sparse comments became a conversation, and the conversation a deep friendship... And there was a specific bit of their fic that remains one of my absolute favourite non-canon xuexiao moments.

Cue the art. In this occasion, I really wanted to make this as accurate and true to my feelings as possible, so not only did I send a detailed explanation and context (I would NOT expect the poor artist to read 30 chapters of a fic just for a commission!!), but also I made a little sketch. Me, who can't draw a smiley without botching it!

See if you can spot the difference:

You can imagine my shame and mortification to show this horrible doodle to any other human being, BUT the artist actually said this helped a lot to understand the positions, the intention, the expressions even, so it was a good call. I lost my fear of giving directions like that, and I have more-or-less tried to for all my other asks ^-^

The end result of this particular story is this and this:

My next commission was for something a bit more selfish.

Daozhang in a veil

I had in mind a story the premise of which was purely an excuse to put Xiao Xingchen in a dress, and what better than to have visual of that? The fic is called A Comedy of Yi City Errors, a light-hearted xuexiao adventure very fun to write and (I'm told) to read.

Once more, I made quite an explanation and provided a little sketch.

ANd once again, despite the terrible example, the concept that I wanted to send was received well enough and delivering again wonderful results. Look!!! <3 <3 <3

I love them so much.

Around the same time, I decided to make two gifts for what were then becoming my closest friends in this fandom (I think that must have been around some important festival or something) so I asked for these lovely pics next:

Prisoner Xiao Xingchen

Art for the fic The Prisoner of Jinlintai by @fieri-sentio-et-excrucior, which is a treasure I recommend for anyone who loves canon divergence and enemies-to-lovers done just right!

And this:

Mermaid Hunter Xue Yang

The beautiful mermaid AU Down in the Black Sea by @10holmes, which is cute beyond compare and inspired another fic I wrote in which I brought that pirate and merman couple to sneak into Versailles. Random anecdote is random.

Anyways, this last one didn't come with a sketch, but I MUST show you my rendition of Xue Yang by the cell door for the earlier fic >w< and the first sketch they did, which is unbelievably cute. See if you can tell which is which.

See? Completely undistinguishable! XD

As for the next, this is a cute little piece I commissioned to celebrate a beautiful friendship.

Under the rain

One of the first xuexiao fics I remember reading was The Taste of Rain on Skin, and once I had the opportunity to meet its author, I could not let something so special pass. Xue Yang and Xiao Xingchen look so lovely in this one, so lively and happy and free...

By the way! Notice from my sketch that the artist was the one who made me realize... uhm... Xue Yang should NOT be holding Xiao Xingchen with his left hand, right?? XD So the running direction was reversed >w<

Well, what I want to show you next is something truly exceptional

Pleasure Yang

Not long ago, i was unbelievably surprised with a gift by a group of co-conspiracists I will call... Lionforest. no... Wrathyfish. Hm. It was an amazing surprise, which made me incredibly happy. Art for one of my fics!!! And a very sexy one, at that!!!!! >w<

Just, just look a it!

Look at that cheeky Xue Yang! Xiao Xingchen's fascination with that sexy ruffian!! Song Lan's discombobulated face! This is no more, no less, what I had in mind when I wrote Gentle breeze, cold frost, sweet crimson drizzle, and I could not be happier for it if I tried.

Thank you, you two ❤️❤️

And now... the last pic was spicy. The next is Wei Wuxian-approved congee.

Ok next, the spicy goodies >w<

There is a certain piece of art I still am keeping in my pocket, which one day I hope to use for a spicy Xuexiao fic. At any rate, it is another masterpiece by Wrathyforest and it deserves to see the light of day, finally.

I swear, every time I look at them, they feel so alive. The details!!! The expressions! The obvious and wonderful love! The other things this picture has to offer, omfg the first time I saw it, it was PERFECT!!!

(before you ask, yes. This also has a sketch XD)

In conclusion

I hope you have enjoyed my little collection. Look at all the xuexiao art we have, and from one incredible talented artist. I am over the moon with every single one of these pieces!

Artists deserve so much love and admiration. Greet your local artist, comment on their content, even if it's just a random keysmash, I can tell you as a writer that seeing these kinds of notifications are soul-repairing.

And if you take the step forward and talk to them, (and you SHOULD!! don't be shy, it is really engaging to get in a conversation!), I can guarantee you that you will make a person's whole day.

This is me, showing appreciation for this lovely art. Share it, comment it, love it. The love and passion we all share in fandom is fragile, but it is also so, so precious.

[marsstyles]

Love Language

Zilla Fatu + Serene Savage (OC)

Synopsis: Serene is starting to make her ground in the NXT roster as she is going to be competing for the Women’s North American Championship title. Then, someone from her past debuts in NXT and its none other than Zilla Fatu. There’s unresolved issues between the two that hasn’t been settled prior to her move to NXT. Will they be able to resolve the past issues to work together in the same space or will it cause even more friction between the two wrestlers?

CW: Mature Language, 18+, Cursing, Friends with Benefits.

Author’s note: Hi! I hope you enjoy reading the first chapter of my first fanfic! I created the character of Serene as a fun way to develop a wrestling persona for myself. Serene is Latina (as am I) so I will have her speak Spanish. I have put numbers next to each Spanish dialogue and will leave the English translations at the bottom for the page.

Blue highlight: Serene’s thoughts.

Happy reading!💜

Chapter 1

NXT: Orlando, Florida -10:30am

Serene is driving in her rental car, listening to SZA’s new album, “LANA”, on her way to the performance center for tonight’s show. It’s a big night for her as she is the Number One Contender for the Women’s North American Championship title against Fallon Henley, who is currently reigning with the title. She had a Fatal Four way match against Shotzi, Sol Ruca, and Zaria, the week prior and she ended up winning the match by pinning Shotzi. It was an exhilarating moment for her because she worked hard and waited for this moment to compete for a title since she came to NXT a year and half ago.

She is nervous, but also excited for the match because this win will be a major boost to her career. Listening to SZA brought a calmer, chill vibe that was needed to ease her nerves as she pulls into the parking lot of the performance center. After parking her rental car, she takes out her headphones and connects the bluetooth to her phone to listen to the music as she gets out of the car and heads for the trunk to pull out her suitcase and bags.

Serene walks towards the entrance of the center and enters to see Shawn directing the crew on how things he would like to happen for the show. She makes her rounds saying “good morning” to the crew and heads backstage to put her belongings away. She makes her way to the girl’s locker room and sees that a few of the girls made it before her, who were also settling into their spaces and started doing their routines.

Among those that were present in the locker room were: Stephanie Vaquer, Sol Ruca, Tatum Paxley, Kelani Jordan, Guilia, Wren Sinclair and Shotzi. They all see Serene enter, some said “good morning” and others waved at her. “Good morning, ladies!”, Serene greeted back to them. She sets her stuff next to Sol who was stretching her legs on the floor.

“Hello miss number one contender, how are you feeling?”, Sol asked her, as Serene was putting her stuff down. Serene gave her a look and signed, “Well, are you asking in general or are you asking about tonight?”, she asked, sarcastically.

Sol chuckled. “Well, since you brought it up, then both.”, Sol said. Serene closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “As much I want to say I’m fine and not feeling nervous at all, you know I would be lying to myself when in reality, I’m feeling anxious as hell.”, she said. “I know what you mean. Even though I lost last week, I’m happy that you are finally getting this opportunity that you rightfully deserve.”, Sol said, putting her hand on Serene’s arm.

Serene gives her a small smile and puts her hand over hers. “Thanks. It really sucked that we had to go against each other because I would have loved to see you get that Number One spot. I know how hard you’ve worked for to get a championship title.”, she said. Sol waved her off. “Nah, don’t worry. My time will come. I mean we all deserve a chance, it’s only a matter of who got that chance first. Since it was you, I was really happy that you got the spot.”, she said.

Serene smiled fondly at Sol. She is grateful of her friendship that she has built with Sol since she came to NXT. Sol helped her settle into the new environment since it was different from the indies, became someone she confided in whenever she was feeling anxious and knowing what to say to help her calm the nerves. She appreciates everything Sol has done for her and they have been close ever since.

She looks to her side and makes a mischievous grin, “Now, if it was Zaria that had gotten the spot, then we both would’ve been fucked. Luckily, it was you that pulled through.”, she said as she gets swatted by someone that Serene didn’t see come in. “I fucking heard that, Sol.”, a female voice with an Australian accent said, in annoyance.

Serene sees Zaria put her stuff down next to where her and Sol were seated at. Sol started laughing, “That was the whole point, I wanted you to hear that. Especially, since I know I’m right for pointing out the obvious.”, she said, shrugging her shoulders and smiling at Zaria. Zaria rolled her eyes and flipped off at Sol, then turned her attention to Serene. “So, big night for you. How are you feeling?”, she asked with her arms crossed over her chest.

“As I was telling Sol, I’m feeling a bit anxious, not gonna lie. It’s been something I have been looking forward to all week since it’s my first major match to compete for a championship title.”, Serene said, as she started rolling her legs on her foam roller.

“You’ll be fine, mate. Don’t sell yourself short and doubt your potential. We’ve all seen your work and how much you’ve earned this spot. Besides, it wasn’t gonna be me who was gonna get the spot, that’s for sure.”, Zaria said, matter of factly.

“What? Why do you say that?”, Serene asked, giving her a confused look.

Zaria gave her a serious look. “Mate, it’s obvious that it was not going to be me because I had just got here, hell, it wasn’t even going to be Shotzi since she recently just got back from an injury.,” she said, pointing at the green haired female who was talking to Tatum as they were walking out of the room. “As much I appreciate the compliment of my in ring ability, the reality of it is, it was either gonna be one of you two who was gonna get the spot. Unfortunately for Sol, you got the spot.”, she said, pointing out the obvious to both Sol and Serene.

After hearing what Zaria had said, Serene knew that she had a point. It was going to be either herself or Sol getting that Number One contender spot since they have been in the company longer than both Zaria and Shotzi combined. Zaria recently debuted here to NXT back in October and Shotzi was in the main roster before getting injured earlier in the year and had just returned to help out Tatum and her friend, Gigi Dolan.

Sol gave Zaria a friendly push on her legs. “Hey, the wound is still fresh. That night was rough for me.”, she said, dramatically with putting her hand over her heart as if what Zaria said hurt her.

Zaria rolled her eyes and shook her head at Sol’s dramatic self. “Yeah, yeah, you’ll be fine. You’ll get your chance.”, she said, smirking and waving her off. Both Serene and Sol laughed as Serene had finished off rolling her legs and started rolling her back. The three continued talking to one another and took turns guessing who will win in tonight’s match card other than Serene’s match with Fallon.

As they were finished making their predictions and Serene was finishing up rolling up her back, Shotzi came over to tell them that Shawn wanted everyone around the ring immediately.

When Sol asked her why, she replied, “He just said that he has an announcement to make and he told me to get whoever is in the locker room and bring them there. He didn’t tell me anything else.” She shrugged and left the locker room.

All three women looked at each other for a moment before making their way to the door and leaving the locker room. As they enter the room where the ring is, a crew member told them to find a seat on the stands. They made their way onto the stands and Serene sees Stephanie and went to go sit with her with Sol sitting next to her. “Stephanie, sabes que esta pasando?”(1), she asked Stephanie. Stephanie shrugged and shook her head. “No, no lo se. No dijeron nada. Solamente Shotzi me dijo que Shawn quería vernos porque iba anunciar algo. Nada mas.”(2), she said. Serene nodded as they wait for everyone to enter and be seated.

When everyone had entered and was seated, Shawn went onto the ring and was handed a microphone. “Good afternoon everyone!”, he greeted. “Sorry to interrupt your training and warm up, but I wanted bring you all together because I have an announcement to make.”, he said. We all looked at each other as we anticipating what he will announce.

“Before I tell you the announcement, I wanna go over tonight’s match card so those who have their matches tonight, will know which order each match will be placed.”, he stated. He explained the order of the following matches:

Opener: Lola Vice vs Kelani Jordan

2nd: Men’s Tag Team title matcha- Fraxiom vs No Quarter Catch crew

3rd: Women’s Triple Threat Tag Team Match- Meta Four girls, Shotzi and Gigi, and special guests: Kayden Carter and Katana Chance from Raw.

4th: Wes Lee vs. Jevon Evans

Main event: Women’s North American Championship title match- Serene Savage vs Fallon Henley.

After explaining what segments will be happening for backstage and in the ring throughout the show, Shawn continued, “Now that’s all done and settled,” pausing for dramatic effect and smiled, “it’s time for my announcement.” Everyone applauded and cheered as they were all waiting for what the announcement is going to be about.

“Now, the announcement I wanted to share with all of you today is something that me and the team have been working hard to get this to happen and luckily for us this past week, it finally did.”, Shawn said, smiling with pride. “I am announcing that we have someone new coming to NXT and will be added to the roster as of tonight.,” he stated, as he hears the wrestlers whispering to one another. He chuckles. “Now, settle down. I know that you are all eager to know who will be added to the roster and you will find out soon…”, he pauses and takes a moment to think before continuing, “You know what? Let’s bring him out here! Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our newest member in NXT, Zilla Fatu!,” he announces.

Serene freezes and felt her eyes widen when Shawn announced that name. A name that she hasn’t heard from for a while, a name that she only sees and hears about all over social media, a name of a person she thought she wouldn’t have to see again until this moment. No. Fucking. Way. What is he doing here? Distracted with her own thoughts, they were interrupted by Sol nudging her as she was applauding at the arrival of the one and only, Zilla Fatu. Serene shook herself out of her shock and started applauding with the others as she sees Zilla making his way into the ring and shake hands with Shawn, then facing towards them.

Zilla was wearing a black hoodie that had picture of his late father, Umaga, black shorts with red and black shoes. Damn, I forgot how good he looked. He’s still fine as hell., she thought, I wander if he still remembers me. Zilla nodded at everyone and scans the audience to see who he could recognize from the stands. He looks at the direction where Serene is sitting and does a double take. Serene notices him smirking at her as he looks at her direction and she looks away, putting her head down to hide her blushing. Crap. Not him seeing me. Serene couldn’t pay attention to what Shawn is saying and will ask either Sol or Stephanie to recount what he said because she is too distracted with her feelings about Zilla, feelings she thought she had moved on from after the last time she saw him.

“Serene, are you okay? Por que tienes la cabeza agachada?”(3), Stephanie asked her as she noticed Serene not paying attention to Shawn. Serene, embarrassed about what’s happening, whispered to her, “Te lo cuento después.”(4) Stephanie nodded, understandingly.

Serene zoned out for the rest of the meeting as she feels her anxiety internally brewing until Shawn said, “Alright, that’s enough for now. Thank you everyone and give your best welcome to Zilla into the roster.,” Shawn announced as he concluded the meeting and everyone applauds.

Serene is eager to get the fuck out of this room to run to the bathroom because she feels sick and she can’t breathe. As everyone goes down towards the ring to welcome Zilla, Serene storms out of the stands and runs into the hallway to find the bathroom.

She is on autopilot and is not aware of Sol, Stephanie, Zaria and Shotzi running after her and calling her name. Once she was able to find the bathroom, she runs inside to one of the stalls and falls onto the floor in front of the toilet. She feels like she’s about to the throw up, but the feeling won’t come out and instead, she’s just staring at the toilet as she was trying to control her breathing.

Why now? Why all of the sudden, he decides to sign with WWE? A company that has been wanting, as well as the fans, to get him signed to when he would always dread answering any questions that involved the company. She feels tears coming down her face that she was trying to prevent from coming out. As she was trying take deep breaths, she hears the door burst open and hears voices calling her name. “I’m in here.”, Serene shakingly calls out to them to lead them to the stall she’s in.

As Sol opens the door and sees Serene on the floor panicking and crying, she sits down in the floor with her and puts her hands on her arms, rubbing them. “Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. Close your eyes and just focus on your breathing. In and out. In and out.”, she said, helping her ease her anxiety and wiping the tears off of her face. “Shotzi, go to the locker room and get her water. Her stuff is next to mine. Quickly, please.”, Sol pleaded. Shotzi nodded and ran out of the bathroom.

This wasn’t the first time that Sol helped Serene with her anxiety attacks. She has helped her deal with them whenever she was feeling stressed and anxious, whether it was about a match or anything personal. Serene had trusted her ever since she knew what to do to help her recover from her episodes. As she is trying to control her breathing, Shotzi came into the bathroom with her water, Serene thanked her and took a sip of the water. The rest of the girls waited for Serene to regain control of her emotions and her breathing before they start questioning her.

After she felt her anxiety ease, she wipes her tears off of her cheek then looks at them, embarrassed, “Sorry, ya’ll had to see that. Anyways, go on ahead. Ask away.”, she said, knowing the girls are curious about her behavior and the reason behind it. The girls looked at each other with concern because they unsure where to begin with their questioning.

After a moment of silence, Stephanie was the first break it. “Por que tenias tu cabeza agachada cuando entro Zilla? Lo conoces?”(5), she asked. Serene paused for a moment to think about how to tell them about her past with Zilla Fatu, a past that she didn’t know she would have to relive again. She took a deep breath and said, “Yeah. Yeah, I do know him. We had a…a thing together in the past.”, she said, looking down at her tumbler and playing with the cap. “What kind of thing you both had previously? Was it serious?”, Zaria asked.

Serene shook her head and shrugged. “It wasn’t supposed to be at first. It was supposed to be something that we would be both emotionally detached from. Until later on, we didn’t know it would turn into an emotional attachment, at least on my end.”, she said that last part quietly to herself that only Sol was able to hear. “We had a…friends with benefits type of thing, which at first, I did agree to having with him because why the fuck not, he’s hot as hell and he was interested in me. So, we agreed to just fuck. Nothing more, nothing less.,” she confessed, to make it clear to them the intentions they both had in the beginning.

“I’m sensing there’s a ‘but’ coming up.”, Sol said. Serene let out a little chuckle, “Yeah there is. But, as things went on, I started developing feelings for him. It was only because he started doing things that you would do if we were in a relationship.”, she said, looking away from the girls. “It started to confuse me because I thought we were just having causal sex and nothing else. We agreed on having no strings attached, but then suddenly, he just started making things complicated.”, she said, putting her hands over her face in embarrassment.

“So, what happened next? Did you confront him about his intentions?”, Shotzi asked. Serene nodded as she dropped her hands off her face. “Yeah, i did. I was sick of him playing in my face when I saw things weren’t going anywhere. I asked him how he really felt about me and if he wanted to commit to a relationship.”, she said. “He tried to deny that he was having any feelings for me and was downplaying the gestures he did whenever we were together because it was all part of getting me ‘horny’ since we were just ‘fucking’.”, she said, rolling her eyes as she was air quoting what he said.

“Is that the reason you looked away when he came in?”, Sol asked. “Yeah. I haven’t seen him since the last time we had a conversation together. I told him that I never wanted to see him again.,” she said, coldly. “Before confronting him, I had gotten the call that I was accepted to come here to NXT. I wanted to tell him at first, but with the back and forth, I decided not to tell him and just leave.”, she explained, “I looked down because he saw me when he got into the ring and smirked at me. Fucking asshole.”, she muttered, in annoyance.

“Well, we got your back if anything. And besides, you can’t let that stop you from focusing on getting the Championship title, tonight.”, Sol softly said, holding her hands and squeezing them. That’s right. God damnit. After seeing this asshole again, it has distracted me from focusing on the Championship title match. She’s mentally kicking herself for even letting his arrival affect her that way and distract her. “You’re right. I should be focusing on tonight’s match. This might’ve been a minor setback, but I’m not letting it stop me from achieving my goal.”, Serene said confidently.

“That’s right, girl! That’s the spirit!”, Shotzi exclaimed excitedly. “Now, we’ll leave you to fix yourself for a bit. We’ll wait for you outside.”, she explained as the other girls nodded in agreement. Sol and Stephanie help Serene up to her feet, she gave them a hug and thanked them for helping her. They smiled and left the bathroom so she could have her alone time.

After they left, Serene goes to the sink to wash her face, then looks up to look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were red and puffy from crying and splashed more water onto her face. She paused and looks up to the mirror saying, “No matter what, don’t let him distract you. You’ve worked hard to get this match and by the end of tonight, that title will be yours and you will be the new Women’s North American champion.” She affirmed herself, giving her a boost of positive energy she needed to feel.

After fixing herself and gave one last look to the mirror, she grabs her tumbler and heads for the door. She opens the door to find all three women outside of the bathroom, chatting with one another. They stopped their chatter as they saw Serene step out of the bathroom, “Are you good now?”, Sol asked. Serene nodded her head. “Yeah, I’m good. Let’s head back to the locker room. I wanna find Fallon and ask her if she is down to practice before tonight’s match.”, she said. They all agreed and started walking down the hallway to the locker room.

Author’s Note: I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter of my first fanfic! This is my first time ever writing a fanfic so I hope did good lol. I have already written 2 more chapters that I will be uploading each week. I don’t know how many chapters this fic will have as I am working on the 4th chapter right now, but I will give an update! Let me know what you think of the chapter. 💜

Shoutout to my friend, @usoinked! She had helped me out during this process and I appreciate you so much!

Dividers: @diviniyae and @dailyramona

Here are the Spanish-English translations:

1. Stephanie, do you know what’s going on?

2. No, I don't know. They didn't say anything. Shotzi just told me that Shawn wanted to see us because he was going to announce something. Nothing more.

3. Why is your head down?

4. I'll tell you later.

5. Why did you have your head down when Zilla came in? Do you know him?

[faebaex]

Tangled in Wonderland - Pick Your Poison

author note: next part finally! i enjoyed writing Vil, I've never written for him before and really wanted to do a good job. i thought alot about his values and how to put across his character, so i hope it doesn't seem too ooc, as i have never written him before now! next up is Ignihyde, and i'm planning to get that out before the end of the month! I've had an idea for that chapter for months, and i'm really excited to write it and add a little twist ≧✯◡✯≦ hope you enjoy!!

characters: Vil Schoenheit x GN!Reader

Something was definitely up.

Really, you should be relieved. This is what you had wanted all along, the whole reason that you had kept a low profile in the first place. But for some reason, now you just felt disconcerted. Uneasy, like there was an axe hanging above your head, ready to drop any moment.

Azul had still overblot. It wasn’t unexpected, especially considering you were the one who gave the Heartslabyul braincell duo the hot tip on where exactly they should look to get some leverage on Azul. You had no idea of what Leona’s involvement was in the whole situation, if he was at all, and you weren’t present to witness Azul’s overblot. But that wasn’t the part that had you all shaken up.

No.

The part that disturbed you was that Jamil’s overblot still happened, and you had absolutely no involvement in the events. You made sure you stayed well away from Scarabia, from Kalim, from Jamil. Even when you inevitably ran into him in the cafeteria kitchen when you were feeding the fire fairies, you made sure not to stare into his eyes, staring at his lips or anywhere else instead. You excused yourself as soon as possible, even though you were sure you’d aroused Jamil’s suspicions at least a little bit with your flighty behaviour.

You had wondered what the consequences of this would be. Would Jamil’s initial plan be a success and Kalim would end up ousted from his role as housewarden? Would Jamil take his place and finally be satisfied? Would his overblot be avoided altogether?

Clearly not.

You first noticed that something was up when Grim didn’t return back to Ramshackle one afternoon after the two of you had split up the work of feeding the fire fairies. You had hoped that he was just taking his sweet time, but he didn’t return that evening, or the evening after that. You debated with the idea of going and helping him out, but eventually decided not to. You felt a little bad, sure, but you trusted Grim’s tenacity to get him out of trouble.

When Grim finally returned home, he was practically bursting at the seams to tell you everything that had happened during his absence. Such willingness earned him a can of premium tuna, which you kept on hand for bribery. As you had expected, he had spent the last couple of days playing through the story route for book four. After becoming embroiled in the study hell that brainwashed Kalim was forcing on the Scarabia students, Grim escaped only to fall straight into the arms of Octavinelle. From what Grim had told you, book four played out exactly the same as the game, even without your presence, with Octavinelle’s meddling resulting in Jamil’s plan being foiled and him subsequently overblotting. Grim was particularly proud to tell you that even when Azul and the Leech twins had asked about you, he had not said a single peep about you. You gave him another can of premium tuna for that, hoping that one it was true, and two that he would be more inclined to continue being as discrete in the future.

You wondered if book four had continued as planned without your presence because the main character was more passive during that book then they were in all previous books. It was getting harder to wrack your brain and remember all the finer details of each book, especially considering that actually being in Twisted Wonderland when these events were unfolding was giving you seriously nauseating amounts of déjà vu.

All of these feelings led you to your next plan of action. With the culture fair fast approaching, that meant that book five was also on the horizon. And that meant you would have to deal with Vil Schoenheit. You’d been lucky enough to avoid any interactions with him at all since arriving in Twisted Wonderland, and you wanted to keep that streak going, preferably. You needed to not participate in the SDC at all, and you definitely couldn’t have the NRC Tribe staying at Ramshackle.

So yet again, you kept your head down. You didn’t go to the audition with Ace and Deuce, although you did feel bad enough about ditching them to watch their practices once or twice. When Rook’s message on an arrow summoned you to the Pomefiore ballroom after school with Ace and Deuce, you refused to attend. The Heartslabyul duo were confused at your outright refusal, but you managed to convince them that you had no interest in the SDC and simply wanted to focus all your energy on finding a way home. They both seemed to accept that, even if they found your behaviour a little odd.

That resulted in the Headmage paying you a rare visit in the library a few days later. He had implored you to find ‘enough kindness in your heart’ to share Ramshackle dorm with the SDC members. You had refused, of course, even after he tried to sweeten the deal by promising to pay for renovations to Ramshackle, which you knew were never going to happen. Crowley even had the audacity to promise to increase his exploration in a way home for you, which very almost had you throwing one of the books you had in front of you at him. You didn’t particularly want to upset the library ghosts. You managed to chase off Crowley by using the opening he had given you when he had brought up your home situation, with you pressing the Headmage on what exactly he had been doing this whole time. You were hoping that was the end of it, and if you just kept your head down and refused to cooperate, you could stay safely in the background.

But of course that wasn’t the end of it, because for some reason everyone at Night Raven College wanted to test your patience, even if you hadn’t officially met them yet.

You had left the library late that night, having gotten carried away reading one of the books you had sourced. Whilst the books that you read in an attempt to figure out a way home were often dense and confusing, you often came across interesting sections. You’d never dreamed that you’d be reading textbooks about magic, real magic, so it was so easy to get lost when interesting tidbits about forgotten magical practices or magical artifacts came up. You were startled when one of the library ghosts gave you a not so gentle fright to let you know it was late and you should probably go home, and you didn’t need any more persuading.

You were sure that Grim had probably fended for himself for dinner and you wondered if he would be that upset if you snagged one of his tins of tuna for himself as you crossed over the threshold into Ramshackle. You yawned, not bothering to cover your mouth, and attempting to stretch your stiff shoulders and back as you slowly ambled through the walkway towards the kitchen.

“If you paid more attention to your posture, you wouldn’t be feeling stiff at all.”

You froze in the walkway when you heard that familiar voice that shouldn’t feel familiar.

You doubled back several steps until you were looking in through the doorway towards the lounge, where none other than Vil Schoenheit sat on your couch, demurely sipping from one of your mugs. Your expression must have said it all, because he brought the mug away from his lips and raised an elegant eyebrow at you.

“Must you gawk? It does nothing for your features.”

You hadn’t even realised your mouth was hanging open, and you promptly snapped it shut. “What are you doing here?” You stuttered out before you managed to regain some of your composure, “I told the Headmage I wasn’t interested in hosting the NRC Tribe, so if he told you that—”

“I know what you said. I’m here because I think you should reconsider.” Vil remarked, a certain haughtiness in his tone that told you he thought you were being unnecessarily difficult. He gestured toward a free seat on the sofa, as if it was his lounge, not yours.

You blinked, slightly taken back by the audacity before you leaned heavily on the doorframe, pinching the bridge of your nose as that familiar feeling of frustration that you got when you had to deal with any of characters pestering you began to build in your bones. “Look—” You began.

“No, sit. We will be having a proper discussion about this.” Vil cut you off with an air of authority, one wielded by someone who often got their way, one way or another. Your eyes narrowed, your hand dropping from your face so Vil could feel the full impact of your disdain. “This is my dorm, Schoenheit, you should be treating me with more respect. You can’t order me around here.”

Vil gave you a smile that was as demeaning as it was beautiful. “Of course. But we are both housewardens, and housewardens should treat each other with mutual respect, no? The least you could do is give me the courtesy of a discussion.”

If you never had to deal with another housewarden again, it would be too soon.

You huffed but relented, moving over towards one of the sofas and all but threw yourself down, with elicited another eyebrow raise from Vil. Your phone tumbled out of your pocket on impact, lighting up in all its cracked glory and drawing Vil’s eye. “You should really get that fixed.” Vil commented dryly, and you scoffed whilst flipping it over, hiding it from his critical gaze.

“There is nothing you can say that will convince me to host the NRC Tribe here, so you’re just wasting your breath.” You said bluntly, hoping to end this pointless conversation quickly, but Vil didn’t look phased.

“I thought you might say that, so lets just cut to the negotiations. If you allow the NRC Tribe to stay here until the SDC concludes, Rook and I shall donate our share of the prize to Ramshackle dorm. Should we win, of course.” Vil looked at you expectantly, and you rolled your eyes.

“Crowley already tried to bribe me, and I’m not buying it.” You responded cooly, “I don’t intend to stay at Ramshackle, or even Twisted Wonderland, long enough to enjoy any benefit from allowing the NRC Tribe to stay here.” A bluff, considering you had no new leads on how to get home, but Vil didn’t seem to catch on, “also, all that hinges on the NRC Tribe actually winning the SDC. Not saying I don’t have any faith…” Which of course you don’t, you know the outcome. “… But as I’ve already made clear, I really don’t want to host, especially not out the goodness of my heart.”

To his credit, Vil seemed to be mulling over your words, placing his mug of tea down so he could fold his arms gracefully in front of him. “Ah yes, I see… The Headmage did mention you had been researching quite steadfastly. You know, tenacity is the pillar of Pomefiore…” You swear you could see a hint of respect in his eyes as he looked on at you approvingly, before he continued on with his train of thought, “then how about something more short term to sweeten the deal? Such as…” His eyes darted down to your poor phone. “Perhaps I could arrange for your phone to be fixed?”

You scoffed. “Who are you, Azul?” Vil frowned at that comparison, looking a little affronted. Good.

“How about this, then. The NRC Tribe stays here for the time that we need, and that’ll be it. You won’t be expected to carry out any support duties, nor give us any of your time. Furthermore, I’ll provide groceries for the full duration that we are at Ramshackle, and I won’t tell Crowley about it. Perhaps then you can put your living allowance for that month towards something to help with your research? All you need to do is allow us use of your free rooms and living space for a limited period. And of course, if NRC tribe are victorious at the SDC, I still intend to donate my share of the prize to Ramshackle.”

It was a tempting offer.

What you wanted was to not be involved with the SDC at all, and this allowed you to do that. You wouldn’t be the manager, or support in any form. You wouldn’t even have to see the NRC Tribe if you didn’t want to, you’re pretty sure you could negotiate further with Vil that the members weren’t to disturb you at all during their stay. You had already seen how Vil had ruled with an iron fist during the story, if it got him what he wanted, he would see it done.

But… With the NRC Tribe staying at Ramshackle, there was a risk that Ace and Deuce would gravitate towards you, and then Grim would get dragged in, which would likely end with you getting caught up and… You shook your head, looking towards Vil resolutely. “No, that’s not going to work for me. Sorry, but the NRC Tribe are going to have to find somewhere else for their training camp.”

Vil stared at you for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly as if he was studying you before he sighed, twisting his wrist around elegantly to check the time. “I’ll allow you to sleep on it. We can continue this topic again in the morning. Its time for me to retire for the evening, I don’t want to waste the effects of that herbal tea.”

You crooked an eyebrow as Vil stood, following suit shortly after. He drank a sleep tea in your dorm, even though he had to walk back to his own dorm? Odd, but each to their own. Maybe it was a Pomefiore thing? You did vaguely remember from the game that Vil set strict standards for himself…

You followed him out of the lounge, planning on giving him the courtesy of walking him to the door. Whilst he had invaded your home, he had been civil, which was more than you could say about half the other people on campus who pestered you on campus.

Of course, you had no idea just how deeply Vil had taken root in your home during your absence.

As you left the lounge, Vil turned towards the staircase instead of continuing down the walkway to where the main doors lie. “Uh, Vil. Wrong way. The entrance is this way.” You directed politely, only for Vil to continue walking. As he reached the first stair, he looked over his shoulder at you, with a look you could only describe as coy.

“Didn’t I mention, my dear? I’ve already moved in.”

For the second time that evening, your jaw dropped. Was he serious?!

“Vil—” You began, but he was already continuing up the stairs, clearly unbothered by your surprise and discontent. “I’ll see you in the morning, bright and early to continue our discussion. Sleep well, Prefect.”

You could only watch as Vil climbed the stairs and disappeared deeper into Ramshackle, hearing the creaky sound of the door of the room he had chosen opening and closing as he retired for the night. You were rendered absolutely speechless. You had never anticipated something like this happening. Even without agreeing to having the NRC Tribe stay at Ramshackle for their training camp, you still had Vil Schoenheit staying here anyway?! You scrubbed your hands over your tired face in frustration.

Just what else were you in for?

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter twenty five ⭐︎ Who could stay? You could stay

Warnings: none really, just a lot of fluff, a bittersweet ending, lots of love and tooth rotting sweetness

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You and Steve take another step and move into a whole new chapter.

Word count: 8.5k

Author's note: this is it, guys. this is the last chapter, all we got is an epilogue coming and thats it, the story is nearly over! It's been six months of dwoht!!!! six months of plotting and writing with @hellfire--cult ily roe, thank you for doing this with me ♡

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter

♡

Moving boxes litter your entire house, some are in the hallway, the kitchen and the living room, some already emptied, some of them are still unopened, sealed with duct tape. Most boxes are in your bedroom though, yours and Steve’s bedroom. 

David Bowie’s voice sounds through the speakers, the wind that blows through your open window touches your bare skin, you are only wearing a t-shirt of his, your hair is pulled up in a scrunchie that he picked out for you when you went shopping together, your knees dig into the soft carpet beneath you as you sort through his movie and comic collection, taking them out of the box and stacking them up on your shelf where you had already made space for him. You were honestly a little surprised to find the Captain America comic books in one of his drawers back at his house, he never mentioned them nor did you see him ever holding a comic book in his hand but apparently he only liked them when he was a kid and he grew out of his ‘nerdy’ phase when he turned thirteen. Sure. He told you not to pack them, he told you he doesn’t need them anymore but you saw the look in his eyes, the comfort that teenage boy got from getting lost in a world of superheroes, so you packed them into the box and now they’re finding home on your shelf, ready for him to reach whenever. 

You don’t feel his eyes on you at this moment, you are too focused on the memories he packed, on the pictures you find next, of the teens, of Robin and Eddie, of his parents and some of his from his childhood, pictures of you. 

Steve had never felt more at peace than he does now, standing in your now shared bedroom, he is sorting through his clothes, placing them on the hangers and into your closet, he is sneaking glances at you, wearing the biggest smile on his face. Your hair is falling out of the scrunchie, his shirt is riding up on your thighs, a soft look resides in your eyes and on your lips as you flip through the pictures he took to his new home. His heart skips strongly as he looks at you, he’s got everything he ever wanted, absolutely everything. 

When you asked him to move in with you after only two weeks of dating, he didn’t waste a second to say ‘yes’, perhaps he even sounded a little too desperate when that word left his lips but he couldn’t help it. He hated to be away from you, even more so than before, when you weren’t dating yet. He didn’t want to spend a second without you, and neither did you. You clung to each other from the moment he asked you to be his girlfriend, not a single night was spent without the other. You ate breakfast, lunch and dinner together, you showered together and cuddled on the couch in front of the tv, every night. You never went to sleep without one another, so ‘why wait?’, you said before you asked him. 

He had no trouble leaving his house, it was only ever home because of you and he felt more at home here than he ever did back there. He felt no sadness to leave it behind, only excitement and happiness to enter this chapter of your life together. 

Steve looks at the polaroid camera next to your bed, feeling the urge to keep this moment not only in his memory but also in a picture. He places his yellow sweater into your closet before he makes his way over to the nightstand, he picks up the camera and turns it on, removing the cap leans, he tip toes closer to you and kneels down, squinting one eye shut as he aims the camera at you and he captures a perfect moment. 

A look of surprise flashes in your features, your brows are pulled up, your lips parted as you stare at the notes in your hand, the notes that fell out of the little notebook that you can only assume to be from his days at school. You didn’t mean to open it or even look inside, it could be a diary, after all. But the notes fell out when you took it out of the box. 

You blink, once, twice. You feel as though your eyes are betraying you as you read the words on the white paper. The ink is a little faded, but you can still see every letter clearly. 

Your heart is skipping in your chest. 

What are you looking at perv?

Your handwriting. 

Your note. 

You remember that day, you remember how you caught him staring at you, throughout the whole class, the hopeless girl in you was blushing but… the teenage you was annoyed, thinking that he was just messing with you, thinking that he somehow found out about your crush on him and decided to tease you, to play with you. 

You put the note down on your lap and read the other. 

Very funny, are you running out of girls to flirt with, King Steve?

You don’t even hear the clicking sound of the camera, you pay no mind to the flash going off either. You are too surprised by what you see as you keep flipping through the notes that he kept, the ones he kept for years, back when he didn’t even like you.

You flinch in surprise when you feel a pair of arms around your waist but quickly relax and melt into him, into his embrace, into his warm touch. Your lips curl into a smile when his own press soft kisses to your neck, whispering into your skin. 

“King Steve was an idiot, wasn’t he? He couldn’t throw away these notes but still kept acting like a dick to you.” 

The thought of him struggling to throw your notes into the trash, makes your chest swell with warmth. 

You tilt your head back to face your boyfriend, you place the notes down and wrap your hand around his wrist. 

“Did… you keep them on purpose?” You ask as for a moment, you thought that he might’ve forgotten them. 

“I did, my heart just didn’t allow me to throw them away.”  

You chuckle at his words and shake your head, “yeah, sure.” 

“It’s true, honey!” He exclaims, squeezing your waist. 

You flinch in surprise, a giggle falling from your lips as you hold his wrists tighter. 

“It always knew who it belonged to.” He whispers with no humor in his voice, just genuine honesty, because it’s true, his heart knew, it always knew. 

“You’re such a sap, Steve Harrington,” you say, though with nothing but a wide smile on your lips. 

“Yeah, I’m your sap,” he grins, clinging tighter to your waist, he nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing you in and kissing you there, feeling his heart swelling in excitement, in love as he thinks of his future now, a future he thought he would only ever dream of, a future you both want, with one another. He will get to wake beside you every morning, with you in his arms, greeted by your soft touch, by your sweet kisses, he will get to sit at the breakfast table with you, write the grocery list with you while you enjoy your morning coffee, he will kiss you before leaving for work and he will come home, not to an empty house like he used to, no, he will come to you, his home. 

You cup the side of his face when you tilt your head back, chasing his lips with your own, you both giggle when your noses bump together before your mouths touch and you both get lost in the sweet kiss you can never get enough of. 

His feelings grow stronger and stronger, each passing second, they get bigger and brighter, evolving into something he never thought was even possible to feel, something bigger than love, something he can’t even describe with words, even if he tried to but he feels like the happiest man in the world – in the fucking universe. 

He feels bonded to you, he belongs to you and you to him. 

He pulls away from the kiss with an even bigger smile on his face than before, he caresses your cheek and looks into your eyes, “I think… no, I know,” he corrects himself, pressing his lips to yours once more, “you’re my soulmate.”

A soft giggle escapes you, you tilt your head to the side and move closer to him. Staring at the loving look in his hazel eyes, the relaxed and happy smile he now constantly wears. 

“You really think–”

He cuts you off with a kiss to your lips, “I know so,” he whispers against your mouth, “my heart knows, I know.”

“Soulmates,” you whisper and wrap your arms around your boyfriend's neck, crawling into his lap, he happily pulls you tighter against him. “I love the sound of that.”

“I chose you.”

“Oh, did you?” You giggle. “We weren’t made for each other? You just chose me? That’s how it works?” 

Steve squeezes your waist, moving one hand up your body, he cradles your face again and tucks your hair behind your ear, leaning in to kiss your cheek, “oh honey, I think we were made with each other, but I still chose you,” he whispers in confidence, though struggling to word his feelings, his beliefs correctly. 

You gaze into his eyes, trying to make sense of his words, though your mind can follow, your heart understands. 

“Well, I chose you back, Steve Harrington.”

He smiles and he can’t hold back from kissing you again, kissing the love of his life, kissing you until he can no longer breathe. 

Neither of you heard the car pull up into your driveway, or the slam of the front door, or the loud ‘hello’. You are too caught up in each other, in the kiss, in the perfect touches. 

“Guys?” Eddie’s voice sounds through the house, “I brought food!”

You are the first to pull away, giggling when he frowns at you and chases after your lips, pecking them once more. 

“He brought food.”

“Mhmm, I’d rather eat something else right now,” he murmurs and trails his kisses down to your neck, holding your waist tighter when you try to move away. 

Your stomach flips, skin growing warm beneath his hands and his lips, “l-later, Stevie…” You stutter, trying to control your breathing when his lips find that one spot.

“Guys, stop fucking or I swear to Ozzy, I’m gonna come upstairs and–”

“Alright, alright!” Your boyfriend yells out to him, chuckling, “we’re coming!” 

“We so are coming,” you giggle into his ear, kissing his cheek before you pull away from him, amused by the groan that falls from his lips, “later.” 

His hands fall from your waist as you stand up and walk over to your dresser to grab a pair of shorts to wear, not wanting to flash your best friend by accident. 

Steve gets up as well, though his eyes never leave your form, they’re glued on your butt. He licks his lips as he watches you bend over, those silky pink panties look so perfect to rip off… later. He nearly groans again when you pull your black shorts over them. Coming up from behind, he grabs a handful of your ass, earning a squeal from you that only makes him grin when you look back at him. 

“You’re obsessed,” you snort and swat his hand away weakly. 

“With you? Yes, I am,” he smiles proudly as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and starts leading you out into the hallway. 

“No, with my ass.”

At that, he grabs your ass again, giving it a squeeze, “that too.”

Your giggle echoes through the hallway, and your best friend instantly looks up at the sound of that, standing in the middle of the chaos, surrounded by Steve’s boxes, with two bags of takeout and a confused frown on his face. 

“Hey guys.” 

“Hi Eds,” you smile at your best friend.

Steve greets him happily, a big smile resting on his face, Eddie isn’t sure if he has ever seen him like this but ever since you two started dating, Steve hasn’t stopped smiling and you are just the same, you’re basically skipping down the stairs, your eyes are shining, your skin is glowing, you are the happiest you have ever been. 

You and Steve found each other. 

Two pieces that always belonged together. 

Two pieces that became one. 

Eddie’s eyes move back to all the boxes in your hallway, the handwriting on them is unmistakably Steve’s. 

“So uh, what’s all this?” He asks, he has an idea of what this is but a part of him believes that he is just mistaking something. 

You and Steve glance at each other, eyes lighting up even more, lips curling into even bigger smiles. You bite your lip and turn back to Eddie. 

“Steve is moving in!” 

Eddie’s brown eyes grow wide, his lips part in surprise and he nearly drops both bags of takeout, he stares between you two with an expression on his face that nearly makes you both laugh. 

He looks around again, catching a glimpse of Steve’s favorite armchair now standing in your living room, along with an opened box, a blanket falling out of it, the one that always decorated the big couch in the living room back at his house. 

Clearly, you aren’t joking. 

He squints his eyes as he looks back at the two of you, watching the way your boyfriend pulls you back into his chest, his arms slowly moving around your waist. 

“Uh, aren’t you guys moving a little too quickly?” He asks, looking between you both bewildered. 

You and Steve turn to face one another, you both smile, gazing into each other’s eyes for a moment. His flash with… mischief as his hand begins to travel south, settling on your lower belly. 

You both turn back to the metalhead. 

“Nah,” you speak in unison. 

Eddie blinks, eyes flicking back and forth between you and Steve. 

“We uh… sort of cooked a little nugget… a little too soon,” Steve explains, biting back his laugh. 

You press your lips together as you stare at your best friend. You place your hand over Steve’s and lean your head back on his shoulder, melting into him when he kisses your temple. 

If Eddie’s eyes could grow any wider, they would. He blinks a few times before he closes his eyes completely, shaking his head, his curls bounce. He furrows his brows so strongly, he looks as though he is in pain. He opens his eyes again and takes a deep breath, he looks at your serious face, at his and then at Steve’s large hand covering your stomach protectively. 

Little nugget. 

You and Steve wait patiently for his reaction. 

“Jesus Christ! You horny fuckers don’t know how to use protection!?” He exclaims, raising his arms up, the paper bags in his hands rustle. You’re surprised they didn’t rip yet with the way he is flailing his arms around. “A little nugget!? What the– I need to sit down.” 

Steve snorts quietly, amused by the shock on his face. 

“Oh, this is crazy,” Eddie sighs, like a shocked father whose teenage girl just revealed her accidental pregnancy. 

You can no longer hold it in, bursting into laughter, you infect Steve with it too. His arms tighten around you as you laugh at your best friend. 

Eddie’s eyebrows rise up now, his jaw dropping slightly as he finally catches on. 

“You really fell for it,” you giggle, blinking back the tears of amusement. 

“Can you blame me!?” Eddie nearly yells, pointing at you and Steve, “you’re at it like some goddamn rabbits! Besides, we all know about his breeding kink!”

Your giggles might not ever die down today, Steve’s red cheeks make this moment even better. 

“Dude,” he groans. 

“It’s true,” Eddie snorts as he relaxes again, coming down from the shock. 

“It is,” you nod. 

Eddie opens his mouth again, though his smile quickly falls and he scrunches his nose when he looks between you both, a smirk now pulling at Steve’s lips. 

“Oh… okay, yeah uh, let’s change the topic,” he shakes his head again, holding up his hand as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“Alright, well, there are no nuggets on the way yet, so you can relax.” 

Eddie nods, chuckling to himself. 

“Yeah, so uh… are you guys hungry?” 

You look down at the bags in his hand, only now registering the smell of fries, your mouth waters and your stomach feels empty, all of a sudden. 

You nod and open your mouth, but before you or Steve can respond, a knock on the door interrupts you. 

Eddie turns to the door before he looks back at you, brown eyes flicking back and forth between yours and your boyfriends, “are you expecting anyone?” He asks, placing the takeout bags on the dresser. 

You and Steve both shrug. 

“Not really,” you mumble. 

Eddie steps forward and opens the door, stepping aside to let you see who is standing on the other side. 

“Oh, hello ladies,” Eddie grins, waving at the little girl in Max’s arms. 

Your eyes light up in excitement, a warm smile graces your face when you see your niece who is babbling away, waving with her little arms and tugging at Max’s hair who doesn’t even flinch. 

“Oh my god,” you nearly squeal, leaving your boyfriend’s embrace, you make your way over to the two girls, “hi! Come here, princess!” You grin, lifting your arms up, giggling when Francine squeaks at the sight of you, making grabby hands before you take her from Max’s arms. 

“I missed you so much, Francis!” You whisper and tickle her side, kissing her chubby cheek. 

Steve’s heart flutters, a sweet smile tugs at his lips, his cheeks turn rosy and he feels warm all over. Every time he sees you holding your niece, he can’t help but picture you with your own little family. He takes a few steps forward, wrapping his arm around you and taking Francine’s tiny hand, “hi angel,” he whispers, cooing at her when she gets jumpy in your arms, excited to see him. He tickles her belly, making the little girl giggle, “you got so much bigger since the last time!” 

Max furrows her brows, not knowing about the day you and Steve babysat Francine together. She chuckles when your niece clasps her tiny hand around his finger. 

“Hi guys!” Your sister finally catches up, walking into the house, car keys in one hand and pizza boxes in the other. She stops next to Max, and nudges her shoulder against hers, “I ran into Max downtown when I stopped by to get some pizza!” She explains, placing the boxes on the dresser next to Eddie’s takeout bags, “oh, you got takeout already.”

“Yep, I got some fries and burgers for Blondie and boyfriend over here,” Eddie grins teasingly, knowing that you haven’t introduced him as your boyfriend to her in person yet, you didn’t get the chance to until now, she only just came back from her vacation. 

Max snickers at your flustered expression, her and Eddie share a look, both amused by the way you’re trying to hide your face in Steve’s chest which only prompts Francine to grab a handful of his shirt, making him chuckle. 

“Oh right,” your sister grins, looking between you two as she makes her way over to you, already opening her arms so she can greet you properly. 

Steve lets go of you but Francine doesn’t let him step away, she still holds his finger tightly, making both him and Eddie chuckle when she stares up at him with her big eyes, babbling away. 

“She’s just like her auntie,” Eddie comments, laughing when you shoot him a playful glare over your sister’s shoulder. 

“How are you, Daisy?” Your sister smiles, squeezing you tightly before pulling away. 

You see the teasing look in her eyes when she glances at your boyfriend behind you.

“I’m good,” you reply, unable to do it without a smile, something that makes the look in your sister’s eyes soften because it’s the first genuine ‘I’m good’ that she heard from you in years. You always lied to her about your true feelings, never letting her in, never giving her the words she wanted to hear from you, you kept it all to yourself, not wanting to ‘share’ your misery with the people around you. 

She never got through to you, no matter how hard she tried, she never succeeded, but the people in this room did – Eddie and Max did, they gave you back that smile that she missed seeing on your face, they broke you out of that little shell, you were so comfortable in for the past years. 

And Steve, he… gave you everything. 

You are more than just good. You are happy, happy in a way you have never been before. The walls around you have crumbled completely, the look in your eyes is one of love and contentment, your skin is glowing, your eyes are shining, you are just… happy. 

“So… are you gonna introduce me to your boyfriend properly this time?” She teases, only having heard from you about it all on the phone. 

Your cheeks grow hot, you know how long she had been waiting for this moment, always teasing and hoping for you to finally fall in love – as though you weren’t hopeless for years already, she was pointing out cute guys for you to date, not knowing that there was only one you had your eyes set on. 

“Twinkie–”

“You know that’s not my name,” your sister interrupts you with a glare, making you and Max chuckle. 

“Fine,” you snort, saying her real name this time as Steve wraps his arm back around you again, pulling you into him, he grins excitedly as he stretches his hand out to your sister, like it’s their first time meeting, like she didn’t walk in on you and him cuddling on your couch with baby Francine in his arms. She takes his hand with an amused smile. 

Max and Eddie share a look, amused by this little introduction. 

“That’s my boyfriend Steve,” you say with a giggle, feeling your heart burst with happiness. Francine squeals in your arms, like she’s happy to hear those words, as well, making everyone laugh in the room. 

“Steve, that’s my sister.”

“Nice to meet you, Twinkie,” Steve chuckles, earning a glare from her. 

You lean your head on his shoulder, adjusting your baby niece on your hip. Steve lets go of your sister’s hand and wraps his arm back around you again, kissing your temple. 

“I meant to say that I will kick your ass if you hurt her but I think that Max might beat me to it.”

“You’re right,” Max nods at your sister, crossing her arms over her chest, she gives Steve a pointed look, “he’ll wake up in Billy’s car again if he ever does anything stupid.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, he shakes his head at her, holding his hand up slightly with Francine’s hand still wrapped around his finger, “no way, Mayfield.” 

Eddie smirks as he throws his arm around Max’s shoulder, grinning at the redhead, “don’t worry, Steve. She’s getting driving lessons from me now.”

You snort. 

“That’s even worse, Munson,” Steve scoffs, pointing at Max, “a maniac getting driving lessons from another maniac? Yeah, no goddamn way, you’re getting driving lessons from me now.” 

Eddie looks a little offended by his words, he places his hand over his heart, “I’m a good driver.”

“Yeah, besides I’m good enough to drive by myself, I don’t need an instructor, I watched and learned from Billy.”

“Great, another maniac,” Steve sighs.

Your sister laughs at the interaction, she looks around, finally noticing all the boxes though she doesn’t say anything, even as her brows furrow and a curious, confused look flashes in her eyes. It doesn’t take her long to figure out what this means, it’s obvious, even more so with the clear excitement in both yours and his eyes. 

You look away from your friends and your boyfriend, drowning out the conversation as you look back at your sister, noticing the look in her eyes and the way she stares at the boxes. You grow a little nervous, not knowing what she thinks of this, what she will say about this but when she meets your eyes, she only shakes her head at you with a smile on her face. 

She takes a step closer, placing her hand on her daughter's back as she leans in to whisper in your ear, “when you know you know, and you always knew.” 

You nod with a smile on your face, feeling the heat of his body against yours, feeling his loving touch on your shoulder, feeling safe in his embrace. 

“Yeah, I did.” 

You knew it from the very start.

You were ruined for anyone else, before he even touched you. 

And when his lips touched yours for the first time, you knew you were done for, you thought it was over for you, that you would never find happiness after that but now you’re here, he is here, he is all yours and sometimes you are still in disbelief about it all, no matter how many weeks have passed, you still can’t wrap your head around it all, about how lucky you are, just like him. 

But there is someone else who is still in disbelief, Dustin. He was so convinced that you were dating Eddie, he just couldn’t understand how it all went by him that you and Steve had been a thing for months already, that you weren’t Eddie’s girl but Steve’s girl. 

He is even more in shock now as he is in your living room, taking in the sight of Steve’s belongings in your house, all the moving boxes. 

You invited all your friends over after the surprise visits you had already gotten, the amount of food Eddie and your sister brought was way too much anyways, so Steve made a call and invited all your friends over, well, most of them. 

Argyle went back to California. Jonathan who declined both college acceptance offers to Lenora Hills Community college and Emerson, made his dream come true of going to NYU, after a long and honest talk with Nancy, they decided to follow their own dreams, but still sticking together, even with a distance between them. Boston and New York aren’t that far apart, after all. 

So, after a little goodbye party at the hideout where Eddie and his band played, they all left Hawkins after a wild night filled with booze and weed – from both Argyle and Eddie.

Robin and Vickie went on a trip to Chicago before the latter leaves for College as well, but Robin knew all about Steve’s moving plans, he called her right away to tell her the news. 

Everyone is entering a new chapter and this time, it’s all, only positive changes, only ones you all look forward to, ones that you don’t step into nervously and with uncertainty, no, for once, you are all at peace, you are all happy, all excited for the future. 

Your living room is filled with friends, with family, it’s filled with laughter and smiles, something that has been lacking in the past few years. A house that was once just filled with sadness and a grayish glow, is now filled with life, the golden sun that shines inside, reflect the emotions in you now. 

Steve who is sitting on the couch, is holding your niece in his arms, she is sitting on his lap, happily. Babbling and giggling more than she did before, she is waving her arms around, giggling louder every time he makes a funny face or tickles her belly. 

Eddie sits beside him, cooing at the little girl every time a giggle escapes her, “oh, a fairy was born,” he tells her after each giggle from her. 

Steve gives her tiny hand a kiss when she places it on his cheek, which only prompts her to laugh again. 

“Oh, and another,” Eddie chuckles and taps her nose. 

A loving smile stays on your lips as you watch your boyfriend with your niece, adoring the mesmerized look on his face. He chuckles every time she turns to Eddie and looks at him with her big eyes before she turns her attention back to him, squealing and waving her arms around. 

Your sister sits beside you, looking stunned, “huh, he is a natural.” 

“Mhmm, he is,” you nod. 

Lucas and Dustin sit on the floor, bickering about something as always, while Max rolls her eyes at them every few seconds or so, cursing at them when Dustin throws one of the pillows at his friend. 

“Hey!” Steve shakes his head at him, giving them a disapproving look, “stop that! How old are you two? Francine over here is maturer than you two,” he grumbles, gesturing to the little girl in his arms who looks back and forth between Dustin and Lucas with a curious look on her face. 

Eddie chuckles beside him, nodding.

“You really got yourself a dad boyfriend,” your sister whispers into your ear, snickering as she sips on her coke. 

You giggle and nod your head. You love this side of him and you love how he looks with a baby in his arms. 

Steve catches you staring at him, and the scowl he previously looked at the teens with, quickly vanishes, a smile appears on his face and he tilts his head at you, beckoning you to him. 

You put your drink down on the table, pushing aside your empty plate from before, you get up and make your way over to your boyfriend. 

“Can I hold her?” Eddie asks, holding Francine’s tiny hand in his, smiling at the little girl. 

“Oh, now you wanna hold her?” Your sister chuckles, teasing him. “Thought you were scared of babies, Eddie.” 

“Only when they poop.”

“You are such a child, man.” Lucas snorts at him. 

“Hey, you’re not the one who was chased down with a diaper full of poop!” He exclaims, glaring at Max who only giggles in response. 

“You chased him down with a dirty diaper?” Lucas asks his girlfriend, who nods with a smirk on his face. 

He starts laughing and raises his hand at her, high fiving his girlfriend. 

Eddie shakes his head at the two, rolling his eyes before he looks back at Francine, reaching his hands out to her, she looks at him curiously, grasping his thumb, she holds it tightly. 

“Come here, princess,” Eddie whispers as he carefully takes her from Steve’s hands, lifting her into his arms, he cradles the back of her head even though she doesn’t even need the support anymore. “Holy shit, she’s so light.”

“Language,” Steve glares at him as he relaxes back in his seat once Eddie leans back with her in his arms. The metalhead ignores him, too mesmerized by your niece in his arms, who stares up at him, curiously and with big eyes. 

Your boyfriend reaches for your hand, not letting you sit beside him, he pulls you onto his lap instead, wrapping his arms around your waist, he takes you into his embrace, kissing your shoulder once you’re settled on top of him. 

“Hey, keep it pg in here, there’s kids and a baby in this room,” your best friend teases your boyfriend, smirking at him. 

“We’re not kids anymore,” Lucas scoffs. 

“Yeah, bet Max and Lucas meet up at Skull Rock to kiss–”

“Dude!” “Dustin!” 

Lucas and Max yell in unison, glaring at their friend with flustered faces, causing you all to laugh at them. 

“It’s the truth,” Dustin smirks, shrugging – and that is how all the bickering starts again, though this time, Max joins. 

Shaking your head at them, you turn away to watch your niece instead, laying your head on Steve’s shoulder, your heart flutters in your chest when he tightens his hold on you and kisses your temple, rubbing circles into your hip, he whispers the softest I love you into your ear. 

“Oh my god,” your best friend whispers in awe, watching your niece falling asleep in his arms, tiny hand still gripping his finger, face nuzzled into his chest comfortably. Eddie looks around, shushing at the teens. 

You and Steve look at each other in surprise, not even five minutes have passed since Eddie took Francine from Steve’s arms, and she is already fast asleep in his arms. 

“Well now we know who can babysit her,” your sister jokes, also stunned by how fast she passed out in the metalheads arms. 

“Yeah, and our  future kids too,” you say without thinking, completely unaware of the feelings those words cause inside of Steve. 

He blushes a deep red, warmth spreads inside of him and he shifts with you on his lap, gripping you tighter and clearing his throat when your best friend smirks at his reaction. 

That shuts the teens up, their bickering coming to a stop the moment they realize what you just said, they all share a look before they turn to you and Steve. 

While Lucas smirks and wiggles his brows at Steve, Max is giggling at his blushing cheeks but Dustin, he only raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, not in disapproval though.

He raises his hands up, closing his eyes for a moment, “you guys gotta give me a moment, I’m still trying to get used to this,” he wiggles his fingers between you both. 

“What do you mean?” Your sister chuckles, cocking her head to the side. 

Dustin blinks at her, gesturing to you once more, “them being a couple, I mean have you seen them before!? They were constantly at each other’s throats!”

“Yeah, cause Steve was an idiot,” Lucas laughs. 

Steve gives him a pointed look, but doesn’t fight him on that, he calls himself that, all the time, for everything that happened between you in the past. 

“I thought she was with Eddie!” 

Your sister laughs with a confused look on her face, shaking her head, “why, because they’re always together?” 

Steve rolls his eyes at Dustin, holding you a little tighter.

“Yeah! And like I said, they were always fighting!” 

“Mhmm, and suddenly they didn’t, I wonder why,” Lucas smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you both again. 

“He really wanted them together, by the way,” Max tells your sister, pointing her finger at her boyfriend. 

“From day one,” he nods proudly, “and now they’re together, moving in together! I always knew what’s up. I mean, I always knew about Steve’s little crush on her, a guy just knows it.”

Dustin looks at him confused, he frowns and blinks at your boyfriend, staring at him for a long moment, he looks at you and then back at him before his eyes widen and he jumps up, “that is why you gave me the shittiest advice ever! You told me chicks dig it when guys are mean to them!”

“The key with girls is acting like you don’t care,” Lucas and Max mock him, giggling with each other. 

Steve groans and throws his head back when you turn to face him with an amused smile, “wow, that’s some good advice, babe.”

“Well, it clearly worked,” Eddie snorts, glancing at you briefly as he adjusts Francine in his arms. 

Dustin grins at Steve, “oh, that’s why you were so mean to her! Bet you expected her to fall at your feet but instead she was mean to you too! That’s why you didn’t stop there and just kept going because you wanted her attention – oh, now I understand!” He laughs, shaking his head as he stares in disbelief, like he uncovered something groundbreaking. 

“You know what, Henderson?” Steve mumbles, straightening his back, he leans closer to you, pressing his chest against your back, he leans his chin on your shoulder, “you’re right.” He admits after a long pause, despite hating to boost that boy’s ego, he admits it. 

He is right. 

Steve was always infatuated with you, he just never wanted to admit it, not even to himself, not even when he kept those notes that you had found earlier. He ignored what he desired, who his heart desired, because that teenage boy in him, was too proud to admit that he liked someone who didn’t like him back but he also couldn’t fight those feelings, they irritated him, they made him mean. 

So yeah, Dustin was right but so was Lucas. 

And now they continue to tease him about it all, while you sit back and watch in amusement, enjoying the redness that covers your boyfriend's cheeks while he holds you in his arms and plays with your hands, toying with your ring finger the way he always does, he tries to hide the smile on his face but fails to do so when your eyes meet his and he sees the joy in them, the one that has been there since the night he confessed his love for you. 

He loves you so much, he can’t even think of a moment when he didn’t – it’s impossible to think of one. 

You adjust on top of him, turning and twisting your body until you can lay your head on his shoulder, snuggling into him, not caring about anything around you, about the vulnerability, the softness, the affectionate side of you, you’re displaying so casually – something you would have never done before. 

Steve’s heart could burst at this very moment. 

He knows how much you struggled to show your true feelings and emotions, how you hid from the world, for years. How you never let anyone see the real side of you, how closed up and sheltered you were, how you dug yourself a hole and stayed in there for the longest time, thinking that you were better off in hiding, thinking that you had to stay in the void forever, all alone, all by yourself, with fears and a feeling of deep sorrow, you just couldn’t let go of. 

But through the darkness, through the pain that the upside down had brought you, had dragged you into, you found a family, just like he did. 

Eddie stepped into your life, a best friend you never thought you would have again after you lost both Billy and Chrissy so tragically. You didn’t want to let him in, you feared that the curse upon you that you believed you had, would take him from you too, that it was only a matter of time until the darkness would drag him away from you as well, just like it had dragged away everyone else that you have loved. But he didn’t allow you to push him away, he didn’t let you believe for a second that any of what happened was your fault, he stuck to your side, from the day at skull rock, he stuck to your side in the upside down and after, he stayed, no matter how hard you tried to deny that bond between you, he stayed. 

Max, the stubborn girl that refused to ever leave your side, who never once stepped away from you, who sees you as her big sister, just like Lucas. The two teens had to be forced out of your hospital room after what Jason did to you, they never left without a fight.

And through the darkness, through the worst days, you and Steve have found each other, through monsters and pain, through bloodshed and tears, you finally found your way to each other – neither of you are surrounded by sadness any longer, by emptiness and a longing for love you could only ever find in each other. 

This room that was once filled with silence and sadness, an emptiness, a dark cloud that always hung over your home is now gone. You are no longer alone, you’re surrounded by people who decided that you are worth loving, worth staying for, you both are. 

You have found home in each other, and you found a family. 

That night, when you are back in your bedroom, you sit on your floor next to each other, surrounded by candlelight, two glasses of wine on each side of you, a bag of your favorite candy before you and a bunch of pictures all across your floor, surrounding the corkboard that lies on the carpet. Your TV is on but neither of you pay attention to the movie playing on the screen. The smell of fresh bed sheets lingers in the room, along with the scent of his and your body wash, your hair is still wet from your shower together. 

Your giggles sound through the room as he laughs at the silly picture he took of Dustin earlier, unable to stop as he stares at the face the teen made. 

“We’re definitely putting that picture up,” Steve snickers as he pins it to the corkboard – the corkboard that was his idea, to put up pictures of your favorite memories, of the people that mean the most to you. 

“I think we’ll need a second corkboard,” you chuckle as you look at all the pictures that have taken up the entire space of the board. 

“Yeah,” Steve smiles as he wraps his arm around your shoulder and looks down at the pictures on your lap, he reaches for the one of you and Eddie, that one was taken in his backyard, both yours and his eyes are bloodshot, lazy smiles are on your faces, your hair is wild and all over the place, Eddie is wearing two pigtails, his arm is thrown over your shoulder, a joint sticking between his fingers, Steve remembers that night, the way you all got drunk and high and played hide and seek in Eddie’s backyard, like a group of kids – it wasn’t long after you and Steve made your little arrangement. That night, he pulled you behind one of the high bushes and kissed you breathless while your friends were looking for you. He was the reason for your messy hair and your puffy lips. 

Steve takes the picture with a grin on his face, taking up one of the last spots on the board, he pins it. 

“Really? This one?” You question and tilt your head back to look at him, “why?”

“Cause you look adorable,” he whispers and leans in to peck your lips, “with your hair all messed up from my hands,” he murmurs against your mouth, kissing you once more.

“Making out in the bushes was definitely something,” you giggle, nuzzling your nose into his. 

He cradles your cheeks and nods, smiling as he leans his forehead against yours. You sigh in contentment as his lips brush against yours, his warm touch sends sparks through your body, he is melting into you the way you melt into him. You look into his hazel eyes, into his loving gaze, a breathy, sweet chuckle escapes him before he closes his eyes and kisses you deeply. 

Your lips move slowly against his, you savor every second of each kiss, you both do, even though you know you have the rest of your life to do this with each other. You taste the wine on his lips and the candy, you feel his protective, soft touch, his thumb caressing your cheek as his tongue slips past your lips, clashing against your own. 

His heart flutters in his chest when you whimper into the kiss, when you throw your arms around his neck and press yourself against him, crawling into his lap with his help. 

Steve holds you tightly, his hand travels to the back of your neck, running his fingers through your wet hair, he runs his fingers up and down your spine before he cradles your cheek again. His free hand pats the space around him, touching the carpet as he searches for the polaroid camera, sighing and moaning into the kiss when you press yourself tighter against him and deepen the kiss, running your fingers through his messy hair. 

The flash of the camera doesn’t even make you flinch, it only makes you giggle as you pull away from your boyfriend, your eyes flashing with amusement when he opens his own and meets you with a grin. 

“You’re so sneaky, Stevie,” you whisper as you glance at the polaroid camera in his hand. 

Steve laughs and steals another kiss from you, he puts the camera down after you pick out the picture. 

You look down at the still developing picture, waiting for the reveal. You press your lips together, sighing when he kisses your neck. 

“I’m so happy, baby, I hope you know that,” Steve whispers against your skin, slipping his hand underneath your shirt as he hugs you against his chest. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” He murmurs adoringly, the sight of your smile, of the joy in your eyes makes his heart swell so strongly. 

Many months ago, he told you to get yourself a boyfriend and stop getting on his nerves — you don’t know why this moment flashes in your mind now, why this takes you back to that day at Family Video but the memory makes you giggle. 

“What’s so funny?” Steve asks, amused. 

“You told me to get myself a boyfriend… and I did.” 

Steve furrows his eyebrows, tilting his head to the side, he purses his lips as his hazel eyes gaze into yours, they widen and a huff leaves his mouth before he chuckles. 

“Yeah, and I fucking love it, baby. I’m your boyfriend,” he says, proudly, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

“Well, I love to be your girlfriend, Stevie.” 

His heart will always flutter at these words, at the way you look at him, at the way you touch him, like he’s something perfect. 

“You caught me,” he whispers, pressing his lips to yours strongly, “and I caught you.”

You hold onto his neck, running your fingers through his hair, you refuse to look away from him. 

“And I’m never letting you go,” he promises, “you’re mine and I’m yours.”

Your cheeks nearly hurt from how hard you’re smiling, and it only gets worse when he leans in to pepper your face in kisses, “my girlfriend.” Kiss. “My beautiful, gorgeous girl.” Kiss. “My future wife.” Kiss. “My stars.” Kiss. “My sun and my moon.” Kiss. “My whole galaxy.” Kiss. 

You can’t stop giggling, your eyes tear up from all the laughter that falls from your lips and when you lean your head back, it only turns out to be a mistake when Steve latches his mouth onto your neck, tickling you with the stubble on his cheeks. 

“Steve!” 

His chuckles vibrate against you, he buries his face in your neck and breathes in your scent, “I’m so in love with you.”

He reminds you of that, all day, when he doesn’t whisper those words into your ear, he lets you feel it, with touches, with small gestures, leaving notes around the house or by waking you with coffee every morning when you’re not the one beating him to it. 

Steve pushes you down on the carpet and crawls on top of you, pressing one hand on the carpet beneath you, he looks away from you for a moment, taking the fully developed polaroid picture, he smiles at it as he pins it into the middle of the corkboard. 

You admire him, raising your hand to cup his cheek, you brush your fingers through his hair, it got so much longer but you love it like this, how it covers his forehead, how it curls on the nape of his neck, how messy it looks. 

“Steve?” 

“Yeah?” He whispers as he reaches for your hand, entwining his fingers with yours, he looks down at you with loving eyes. 

“I’m in love with you.”

These words always feel like a warm and comforting embrace. There is so much love that he holds in his heart for you, he can’t even put it into words just how strong it is, not even if he tried to. 

You trace his features with your fingers, touching him softly and carefully, making him melt into your touch as a smile graces his face, he slowly leans in, closer and closer until your lips are brushing against each other. 

“Forever?” He asks you, gazing into your starry eyes. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, smiling when he presses himself against you, staring at you in a way that makes all your insides tingle. 

“Forever and ever!” You grin before he slams his lips back on yours, kissing you deeply and feverishly, smiling happily against your lips as his hands make their way under your shirt while yours get lost in his hair. 

“Forever and ever,” he murmurs against your lips, opening his eyes, they basically sparkle with stars. “My darling, forever and ever, I fucking love the sound of that.” He whispers and kisses your cheek. “I love you.”

You pinch his chin between your fingers and kiss his lips, smiling brightly at your man, the golden light in your room makes him look so ethereal. His hazel eyes shine so golden, his skin inviting your lips, his hands lay on your body so perfectly, like a touch of an angel, perhaps he is one, he is yours. 

You went through the storm, the one you have always been so afraid of, you went through it, through the darkest of storms, through ones you didn’t even think existed and you didn’t come out unscathed, you were knocked off your feet and you were harmed, you took scars with you, on your body and in your heart but even through that, you came out alright – because he was always there, he always reached his hand out to you, he always waited on the other side, he was always there, even when you both didn’t realize just how close he always was, just how ready he always was to fight for you the way you always fought for him. 

You both went through so much, you both suffered greatly. 

But now you are here, with each other, where you both belong. 

Steve leans his forehead against yours, he takes your hand in his, bringing it up to his lips, he kisses your ring finger, making that smile on your face bigger and brighter. 

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” you whisper back before you melt into each other, yet again. Getting lost in the kiss, one of endless to come. 

Hell was the journey but it brought you both to heaven. 

Hands tied,

♡

well, it's over, this is the end :') (actually there's still gonna be the epilogue so I'm gonna save my sappy comment for that one)

@prettyboyeddiemunson @taintedcigs @mysticmunson @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @thecreelhouse @maroon-cardigan @corrodedcorpses @moon-flowerrs @munson-mjstan @munsonlore @sherrylyn0628 @agirlwholovesrockstars

[ily-sunghoon]

The Omen of Sterling | CHAPTER I

Pairing : vampire!enha x fem!oc (a lot of jungwon in this chapter)

Genre of this chapter : vampire, fluff if you squint

POV : Author’s

Words count : 4k

WARNINGS : food, mentioned of blood, curses, mentioned of menstrual cycle, sarco is mean and crazy but he's just silly! trust (lmk if i miss anything)

Note : thank you for your excitement, guys! i feel loved <3 feel free to ask if you have confusion about anything!

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST : @nshmrarki @capri-cuntz @millieinyourarea @strxwbloody (let me know if you want to be added)

CHAPTER I: BET

“Jusarlie Grieffang.” Jusarlie shakes the guest’ hand softly. Afraid to hurt her since it has been so long since he interacted with humans.

“Iolana Sterling.” Their guest smiles.

That last name was a jumpscare for Jusarlie, but he managed to put on a poker face.

“Hey, your name is familiar… are you a writer?” Iolana squints her eyes a little.

“Oh! Yes, I am. Do you like to read books?” Jusarlie’s eyes immediately lit up when Iolana mentioned that.

“I love books! I think the very first book that I read so willingly is one of your masterpieces. Mind Ruler? That was amazing and mind opening.” Iolana tries to recollect her memory.

If Jusarlie’s eyes were not sparkling before, they really sparkling now. His books reached outsiders! She is a Sterling, but still, this lifts his mood so much!

“Even your first book? I’m truly honored! Thank you for enjoying my works, Iolana!” Jusarlie giggles like a teenage girl in love.

“I’m the one who’s feeling very honored to meet you unexpectedly like this. You’re such an amazing writer. I love your brain.” Iolana totally adores Jusarlie’s books.

“Writing is just my hobby, I only do it when I have a spare time.” Jusarlie is still on cloud nine after what Iolana just said.

“Your lore is very amazing, what is your daily activity, then?” Iolana is still in awe.

“I’m a beginner professor at one of our schools here in Krashoviel.” Jusarlie smiles with his eyes too, his fangs are showing and they’re so perfect. Wow, good dental hygiene.

Iolana is not even hiding her jaw drop expression. “You’re the coolest in the world. There are no such things as beginner professor…”

“Iolana, stop… you’re complimenting me too much.” Jusarlie giggled.

“What is your favorite book, Jusarlie?” Iolana had no idea how Jusarlie loved that question so much.

“Finally, someone asked me my favorite book!” He looks so excited. “It’s Endless Cycle by Roberto Cairneye! It’s amazing.”

“Classics! I swear we have it in my father bookshelf, I regret the fact that I haven’t read it now.” Iolana sighed, real sigh, unlike Jusarlie’s.

“Hey, it’s fine. I can always give you a copy! Now, tell me your favorite book!” Jusarlie is beginning to feel interested in Iolana.

“It’s your masterpiece, Under the Solid Ground! I really love how you picture history perfectly with your words. I had such a wonderful time learning the basic history of Krashoviel with that amazing book.” Iolana is truly a loyal reader.

“Iolana, you made my day hundredfold better. Thank you so much for loving my works. Truly, I’m very grateful.” Jusarlie swore he will protect Iolana if the others still want to eat them.

“It’s the other way around, Jusarlie!” Iolana giggled.

“By the way, is your book lover dad the Tearle Sterling?” Jusarlie asked curiously.

“Yes, that’s right! He is my beloved father.” Iolana nodded.

“Ah, I knew it. He was my favorite teacher back then when he was still young.” Jusarlie admitted. “He was a legendary professor. I wanted to be one because of him.”

“Really?!” Iolana found this really interesting.

Time passes by as they’re talking, it doesn’t feel like a burden anymore to Jusarlie. Iolana is such an amazing person. She is far more brilliant than any other humans he had encountered before, he even dared to says that she’s probably the most brilliant person than any of the people in their kingdom. It’s like a fresh breath of air for a prisoner.

“Apologize for making you wait.” Jestel made them stop their conversation. He smiled at Iolana and offered his hand to shake hers, “Jestel Sinflame.”

“I should be the one who’s apologizing, Mr. Sinflame.” She smiles back at Jestel, her eyes are smiling too. She shakes his hand, “Iolana Sterling.”

“You can be casual here, just call me Jestel. I’m not that old.” Jestel is still smiling.

“You clearly have aging blindness, Uncle.” Jusarlie giggled.

“We’re in the same age, Nephew.” Jestel threatened Jusarlie. “Now go and see Saine to see what task you have to do.”

Jusarlie nods and doesn’t forget to say goodbye to Iolana, of course. He knew that they wouldn’t have to eat her today. He feels relieved. Iolana is a brilliant girl and she is very fun to talk to. It’s rare to find it these days, at least for him.

“Iolana,” Jestel suddenly brought Iolana’s attention back to him again.

“Yes, Mist—Jestel?” Iolana immediately responds.

“My deepest condolences for what happened to your family. Tearle Sterling was a legendary fighter.” Jestel pays some respect for Tearle.

Iolana smiles, she could feel the sincerity in Jestel’s voice. “Thank you, Jestel.”

“I’m so sorry for you. I know how it feels to lost a whole family… it feels so heart breaking, yet…”

“So fast… like a blink of an eye.” Iolana finishes Jestel’s perfectly.

“Exactly.” Jestel nodded. “Your father’s note… he said you’re a good fighter. Is that true?”

“He exaggerated that one.” Iolana giggled. “I can fight, but I won’t say I’m that good.”

“Based on what I remember, Tearle is never good at exaggerating things. I believe everything he said.” Jestel smiles.

“Alright, I give up.” Iolana chuckled softly.

“Let me walk you to your room.” They walk side by side, Jestel guides her through that big mansion of his.

“You have to acknowledge this,” Jestel paused for a second. “We’re going to give you our best facility, education, and training that you need.”

“Oh? I really didn’t expect that. I thought you were thinking about turning me into your dinner or something. Thank you so much, Jestel.” Iolana is very grateful. She was so ready for any kind of bad probability, but here she goes with the best one.

“You’re the last Sterling alive, Iolana. We wouldn’t risk witnessing the whole of Sterling go extinct. Sterling is very legendary for us.” Jestel admitted. “Did your father tell you what Sterling did during the wars?”

“He said Sterling are the doctors?” Iolana is a little unsure. They’ve been saying that Sterling is legendary, is doctor strong enough to be legendary? In the field where their patients mostly regenerated and heal so fast?

“That was after the war.” Jestel giggled after almost a decade not even caring to smile. “Sterling are our heartless fighters. Best of the best along with Phelanflame, Sarco’s family.”

Iolana listened very carefully.

“We only put them in the battlefield when the other are exhausted or the important people of our rivals show up in the battlefield.” Jestel continued. “They were vampire killers after all, even if they’re vampires themselves. We were on cloud nine when they decided to join our nation.”

“Wow, they’re a huge deal…” Iolana nods, beginning to understand why Jestel call her family legendary.

“We wouldn’t have won the last war without Sterling’s help. That’s why Slevado and Axadel tried their hardest to make your family turn their back on Krashoviel. Every nation wants Sterling on their side.”

“My father never told me about this… it’s not on the books neither…” Iolana is dumbfounded.

“Now you know, Iolana.” Jestel chuckled again. “How did you get here, by the way? It’s almost an impossible task for human.”

“Well, I know the borders are tough. I chose the west border. I used a big blanket and a rope to just… well, fly off the cliff! It’s the fastest way even though the risk is big.”

“Fly… to the gate?” Jestel is dumbfounded now. What an odd girl.

“Yes, I got nothing to lose. It was so therapeutic.” Iolana laughed at herself.

A sudden wind brush over Jestel and Iolana. It was Jusarlie who brought Iolana’s bags to her new room.

“Oh, sorry about that. Vampires have so many capabilities, I’m assuming you know about it.” Jestel continued to walk upstairs.

“Yes, I’m aware. I will train myself to get used to it, since my father barely use his power at home.” Iolana nods.

“By the way, your room is—oh, no. I apologize.” Jestel realized he made a mistake. “Your room is on the 3rd floor. I can move—”

“No, no, it’s okay! I could get a better view from the 3rd floor, right?” Iolana doesn’t want to burden Jestel.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I will love it.” Iolana smiles widely.

“As your wish, then.” Jestel finally nods.

“Although, I have one question…”

“And that would be?” Jestel tilts his head.

“My menstrual cycle.”

“What’s that?” Jestel is purely confused.

“I bleed naturally every month through my reproduction area. Would that be a problem?”

Fucking hell, Jestel is in shock.

“What do you mean? Like bleeding? Literal blood coming out of you? Does that hurt?” Jestel is worried.

“For me, no. For my mom, sometimes. Depends on the person. Yes, it’s literal blood, it lasts for about 5 days maximum for me.” Iolana explained.

“Well, that is a problem. You have a set schedule for it, right?” Jestel is worried sick. “I should give your room high-level security.”

“It usually ends on the full moon, so around five days before full moon?” Iolana is starting to worry now.

“Alright, I’ll figure something out.” Jestel nods. He holds the door handle, “Welcome to your new room.”

Iolana eyes wander over the whole room. It’s such a big room. The right side of the room is her bed, vanity, and some sofa. On the left side of the room is an open two-story, where the upstairs are full of books and underneath the area is her walk-in-closet and bathroom. There’s also some big windows and a balcony. She loves this room.

“Wow, this room is beautiful.” Iolana adores her room.

“Hi, Iolana! I left some books for you on your desk. I arranged everything except your clothes.” Jusarlie is so smiley.

“This room is clean, because the maids clean empty room once every three days. And I left some incense! It’s good for relaxation.” Saine also smiles at her.

“Thank you, guys! I love it!” Iolana is so thankful for the fact that they welcomed her nicely like this.

“Go get some rest, while we wait for dinner time. Tonight, I’ll take you for a personality test.” Jestel informed Iolana. “Jusarlie and Saine are living on the 3rd floor as well. Saine is right across from you and Jusarlie is next to you.”

“Thank you, Jestel. Thank you so much.”

“You deserve all the love, Iolana.”

Oh, really? All the love, Jusarlie and Saine hit Jestel with their mind links.

I’m being nice, Jestel replied in their mind links.

“Alright, let’s head out. Iolana needs to rest.” Jestel is ready to go and he’s already behind the door, but Jusarlie and Saine are not moving anytime soon.

“Five minutes.” Jusarlie told him.

“No, let her rest.”

“I want to join them.” Saine plead to Jestel.

“No, I need you to do your task. Jusarlie could stay.” Jestel threatened Saine. “Come on.”

“Bye, Iolana…” Saine looks sad.

“Bye-bye, Saine!” Iolana waves and smiles.

“Bye, Uncle Jestel!” Jusarlie mocked the annoyed Saine.

“I’m going to educate you about anything you need to know!” Jusarlie sits on the floor. Iolana follows him.

“How old is Jestel again?” Iolana asked curiously.

“Three hundreds this year.” Jusarlie answered excitedly. “And I’m two hundreds ninety-eight soon!”

“Wow, is it boring?” Iolana is curious. “To live for so long…”

“Sometimes? Unless there’s a war going on, they’re kind of fun.” Jusarlie nods.

They talked for a while until it was finally two hours before dinner time. Jusarlie excuses himself because Jasper called him through mind links.

—

“Where’s Jusarlie?” Hiael asked Saine.

“With Iolana. Ugh, he’s so annoying.”

“Still with Iolana?” Sarco laughs.

“Besides from her annoying smell and the fact that she is cute, what’s so special about her? Most of you just seems… in love?” Jasper is unsure.

“Not me,” Ricardo chuckled.

“Saine, Jusarlie, and Jestel.” Jasper specified.

“I’m not in love.” Jestel shook his head calmly.

“Give him a day or two.” Sarco laughs at Jestel’s confidence. They’re best friends, Sarco could read him like an open book. Jestel is in love for sure.

“Jusarlie is in love.” Jestel is sure about his feelings.

“Quit it. Let him be, it’s been long since he found a friend that he could talk to like that.” Hiael is wiser than them. “Who knows? Maybe she could bring the bubbly side of Jusarlie again.”

“Absolutely not. Let’s make a bet.” Ricardo laughed.

“I bet he will not change, and he will just be soft towards that girl. If I’m wrong, I’ll get you guys shoes fresh from Cynfael.” Sarco chuckled.

“I bet the old grumpy Jusarlie will be gone. If I’m wrong, I’ll teach the kids at Underwood Orphanage how to fight.” Hiael made the others shocked.

“Now this is getting serious!” Ricardo couldn’t believe Hiael. “I bet Jusarlie won’t change. It’s just temporary. If I’m proven wrong, I’ll look after the kids in Derrick Orphanage for a month.”

“Oh, wow!” Saine nods. “I bet he’ll change. I’ll teach the kids in Derrick Orphanage a table manner class for my bet.”

There are two main orphanages in Krashoviel and they are two different kinds for sure. Derrick Orphanage is where the crazy and naughty kids live. While Underwood Orphanage is full of insecure kids who are afraid of everything, they give up so easily.

“He will change. I’ll buy you guys new suits from Charson if it’s turn out to be wrong.” Jestel took his part in the bet too.

The others are surprised by that. If Jestel took a part in a bet, then it’s a serious bet indeed.

“He won’t change. You can order me around for three days if I’m wrong.” Jasper shrugged his shoulder.

“Have some manners, putting a bet over me? Where’s the morality?” Jusarlie appeared in an instant.

Ricardo tries to hug Jusarlie roughly and mess his hair up, but to their surprise, Jusarlie is still smiling and has no interest in being angry like he always did. Sarco is dumbfounded.

“Would you like to teach at Derrick Orphanage?” Jestel asked just to make sure it was real.

“Sure! Oh, and… Iolana said that children behave the way that behave based on their caretakers. You might want to investigate our main orphanages, Jestel. They’re our new generations, I wouldn’t want a mix of insecure kids and rebellious kids.” Jusarlie informed him.

“Oh, really? Thank you, I’ll investigate the caretakers.” Jestel nods.

“If possible, you have to ask to the children instead.” Jusarlie continued.

“What if the caretakers threatened them? It would be difficult.” Hiael speaks his mind.

“Sorry for suddenly catching up, you must ask them very smoothly. Children are naturally honest and innocent. It won’t be that hard to make them open up about their feelings. You can also watch their body language! It tells a lot.” Iolana appeared out of nowhere. She is already standing next to Jusarlie.

They’re all shocked. None of them felt her aura or even her sweet scent.

“How the hell did you do that?” Ricardo panicked.

“Do what?”

“Hiding your presence?” Jestel is as confused.

“Oh, easy! Just don’t make a sound and believe that you’re not actually there. Bad affirmations about yourself would help.” Iolana gladly shares how to do her thing.

“Why don’t you meet Hiael and Jasper? They’ve been eager to see you.” Jestel pushes Iolana softly towards Hiael and Jasper. “The others please follow me, we have to make sure our food is ready.”

“Yes, Jestel.” They headed out from that dining room to the closest office room they found.

“Hi, I’m Iolana.” Iolana smiles at Hiael and Jasper.

“Jasper.”

“Hiael Von Ruden, nice to meet you.” Hiael smiles slightly. “Sorry, Jasper is a new vampire. He hasn’t gotten used to human scent. So, if he’s being a little rude…”

“It’s totally fine. I hope you feel well about your transformation soon, Jasper.” Iolana is kind enough to say that.

Jasper smiles and nods at her. Her sweet scent is very annoying.

—

“What in the hell was that?” Jestel is furious.

“I fucking told you she’s the girl in the omen.” Saine chuckled.

“That was NOT normal.” Ricardo shook his head. “Her scent is very strong, she can’t just hit us with invisible aura like that.”

“She’s a Sterling, why are you so surprised by the fact that she can just make herself invisible?” Sarco giggled at their confusion.

“Because she smells like the most delicious food ever?” Ricardo is still confused. “I mean, okay! She’s in that legendary bloodline, but her scent!”

“Did you really don’t feel her presence?” Jestel asked Jusarlie again.

“I would’ve said hi immediately if I knew she was there.” Jusarlie admitted. Frustrated at Jestel’s weird panic moment.

“I wonder what she capable of in fight field.” Sarco is zoning out. Imagining how brutal she would fight him, or the other way? Maybe she has silent-killing skill?

“Jusarlie, Saine, let’s take her to Idris after dinner.” Jestel made up his mind.

“Uh, oh.” Sarco was a bit surprised when Jestel made his choice. He gets it if they’re scared of her, but taking her to Idris? The best wizard in town? That’s just comedic, they have Saine, Idris’s son, at home for a reason.

“Something is not right.” Jestel shook his head. “By the way, we have a problem. She has this menstrual cycle.”

“What is that?” Sarco is confused. “Menstru—what?”

“She basically bled through her private part every month for five days.” Jestel explained. “She said female humans have that.”

“Absolutely not.”

—

The talk with Hiael and Jasper only lasts for like fifteen minutes? They’re too reserved for Iolana. So, she made her excuse to go back to her room again. She chose to pick up a book from Jusarlie, the one that he said was his favorite. She reads it while waiting for dinner time.

Reaching page fity-two, Iolana heard a bell chime. Must be dinner time. She left her book open on her bed and walked out of her room. Just in time! Cause a moment later, Saine got out of his room too.

“Iolana!” Saine yelled in the corridor. “Wait up!”

“Hi, Saine!” Iolana gives him a sweet smile.

“Do you want a ride?” Saine offered.

“How do we do it?” She wanted to say yes, but she was confused.

“Excuse me,” Saine puts his hand on her waist. They instantly reached the dining room. Iolana has no idea of what just happened.

“For the love of Alexander Grieffang, what is wrong with yo—oh, hi!” Jusarlie’s sudden change of behavior shock Sarco to the core.

“Thank you, Saine. Hi, Jusarlie!” Iolana greets Jusarlie who said hi to her.

“Are you not feeling nauseous after he gave you that deathly ride?” Hiael is confused.

“Am I supposed to feel nauseous?” Iolana scratches the back of her head slowly.

“Does the effect not work on humans?” Jasper is also confused.

“Maybe not yet.” Sarco chuckled, mocking Saine.

“Or maybe she’s just stronger than you, losers.” Saine spat back.

“Even our handsome Jestel always feel nauseous if you gave him a ride.” Jusarlie reminds him of the fact that Jestel hates Saine’s little ride trip. “Humans should’ve felt the worst nauseous they ever had.”

All of a sudden, Sarco throws a vase at Iolana. Fortunately, she’s fast to catch it so it doesn’t break and make her bleed while Jasper is in the very same room with them.

“Or maybe she’s not an ordinary human, guys.” Sarco declared.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Jusarlie and Saine are visibly angry.

“I was just testing wave.” Sarco admitted.

“She could’ve bled and that is my favorite vase, Sarco.” Hiael reminded him.

“Are you alright?” Saine asked worriedly.

“As good as ever. I’m glad the vase didn’t break.” Iolana gave the vase gently to Hiael.

“Thank you, Beautiful. Pardon him, he’s a little sick in the head.” Hiael smiles gently to Iolana.

“For the love of Amadeus Cairneye, Iolana. We’re glad you’re okay.” Saine is worried. Iolana seriously could’ve died.

“Are you in love, Saine?” Sarco giggled.

“Get lost, Sarco.” Saine is still angry at him.

Just right on time, Jestel and Ricardo arrived in the dining room. Seeing angry Saine and Jusarlie, Jestel is curious about what just happened.

“You may sit.” Jestel asked them to sit on their chair at the dining table while he sits at the head of the table.

Sarco sits on the right side, Jusarlie on the left side. Iolana sits between Jusarlie and Ricardo. While the others are on Sarco’s side. Jasper is right across from Iolana, she tried to smile at him, but he quickly looked at the other way. She expected that.

They wait for the food to be served by the maids. Iolana feels this tense atmosphere when they serve the food. The maids are probably hating on her too, that’s alright! They’re just not used to living with humans, right?

“You may eat.” Jestel informed them and took the first bite. The others follow along except for Ricardo who’s still figuring out how to use knife and fork.

Iolana hits him softly on his leg with her own leg, and Ricardo looks at her in confusion. She slowly uses her own knife and fork, showing Ricardo how it’s done.

Sarco, Saine, and Hiael are observing that scene very carefully.

“What happened earlier?” Jestel asked them.

They turned their heads to Jestel, then to each other’s. Who’s going to tell him?

“Sarco threw Hiael’s favorite vase to Iolana. Luckily enough, Iolana caught it right on time.” Saine eyed Sarco sarcastically.

“I was just testing something.” Sarco admitted.

“You could’ve killed her. Apologize.” Jestel’s voice is calm but dominating. Iolana takes a mental note not to make him angry.

“I’m sorry, Iolana.” Sarco said half-heartedly.

“Be genuine.” Jusarlie scoffed.

“I’m sorry, Iolana.” Sarco did it wholeheartedly now.

“It’s okay, I feel relieved that the vase—”

“Go finish that sentence, I dare you.” Saine scolds Iolana. “You must be worried about yourself more than we do, Iolana. Seriously. You could’ve bled and died.”

“Sorry…” Iolana feels good. They care about her, but at the same time? Saine is scary.

“I haven’t properly introduced you to them, Iolana.” Jestel remembered his actual responsibility. “This is Sarco Phelanflame, the one who just went out of his mind and threw that vase at you.”

“Hi, Sterling.” Sarco smiles at her. Seems genuine? Iolana thinks he’s a bit odd.

“Right across you, that’s Jasper. Our new vampire. He joined eight months ago.” Jestel continues.

“Hi.” Jasper gave her the cold shoulder.

“That’s Hiael Von Ruden. He is our eldest.” Jestel continued again.

“Von Ruden? As in the Von Ruden?” Iolana was clearly surprised. Von Ruden is the royal bloodline of Slevado.

“I betrayed my nation.” Hiael explained shortly.

Iolana nods, showing that she understood now.

“And that’s our youngest, Ricardo. He’s twenty years old this year. How old are you, Iolana?” Jestel asked her curiously.

“Twenty-one this year.” Iolana answered while smiling at them.

“We’re about the same age, then.” Ricardo giggled.

Sarco couldn’t believe that. Even Ricardo is enchanted by Iolana’s charm now.

“I have a niece who usually sits next to Sarco. She is staying in the palace for a few days right now. I think you will get along with her, Iolana.” Jestel explained.

“Can’t wait to meet her.” Iolana chuckled nervously.

“I hope you feel at home, Iolana. Even though, it must be hard since we live under the same roof as this maniac.” Saine smiles at Iolana and then stares at Sarco like he wants to kill him.

“Won’t you forgive me, Saine?” Sarco fakes a sigh.

“Never.”

“Just scream whenever he’s being out of normal, we’ll be there in no time to save you from him.” Jusarlie makes sure Iolana felt safe.

“You make me sound like a creep.”

“Because you are.”

“You are creepier than me, Saine.”

“Pardon me?!”

They keep bickering with each other, Iolana loves this. She loves it when others get into an argument. That dinner unexpectedly feels warm for the first time in a hundred years.

TO BE CONTINUED...

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