#but i put this all here bc i could never have this conversation with people irl

[kevin-sedai]

The vibe really deteriorated as the day went on, and now I'm sitting in bed, awake, feeling like garbage

[werewolfbneimitzvah]

vent post. There are two stories i was told in my teenage years that even before i had a real concept of trans issues made me uninterested in discussing the supposed sacredness and safety of separated sex-based spaces.

First, when i was like 13 or 14 my PE teacher told us about a time she went to a women's public restroom, some guy was hanging out outside the bathrooms, she didn't think anything of it, went to the bathroom, and he walked in after her and like, creeped on her over the top of the stall. She was ok, she wasn't telling us this to scare us, just telling us what to do in situations like that (and iirc she was telling the whole co-ed class this, not just girls, bc it's useful for everyone), but this taught me immediately and forever that there's nothing actually keeping these spaces separate really, that anyone can be a creep in any space, and that establishing a space like that as for women only isn't actually particularly useful for safety.

Second, when i was 16 i was at an anime convention, a friendly acquaintance of mine and i ended up in conversation outside, and he showed me his bare wrist and told me he'd been kicked out. A female friend of his had stepped in dog poop outside, and between that and the stress of the convention she'd had a bit of an emotional breakdown, so being her friend, he started comforting her and ushered her into the women's restroom so they could wash the poop off her shoe together. And because he was a man who went into the women's bathroom, he got kicked out, no matter that he was doing something that was actually beneficial to a woman. Punishing a woman's friend for supporting her was supposed to... protect her somehow? This made it clear to me that a no-exceptions rule separating the sexes like that wasn't actually inherently good for everyone.

And this isn't even getting into me as a child needing to accompany my younger sister to the restroom when we were out with just my dad because she had certain support needs past the age he felt comfortable bringing her into the men's room with him. And what if I'd been born a boy, or she'd been the first born? Who's helping her then?

And of course even putting all this aside, we should always prioritize compassion and support anyway. But i never even needed to meet a trans person to know that "keeping men out of women's bathrooms" is silly nonsense. But trans people also need to pee anyway and as humans they have that right, so leave them the fuck alone. your precious women's restroom is just a fucking room with a door, holy shit give it a fucking rest, if someone is attacking you in the bathroom that's bad and if someone is in there to pee that's good and it doesn't fucking matter what their junk is or was when they were born.

a woman could have done the exact same thing to my PE teacher and it would have also been bad no matter how "supposed" to be in the restroom she was, and no one should ever be punished for helping a crying friend wash their shoe.

Anyway i know I'm speaking to like-minded folks here, i just think about those two stories literally every time bathroom gender shit comes up and it pisses me off.

[roanofarcc]

WORTH YOUR WHILE

pairing. Tyler Owens x fem!reader

summary. as the local weather woman, you shared an interesting rivalry with your hometown storm-chaser. while you always reported on the dangerous weather from a safe distance, tyler barreled into it head-first. but things change the night of the county fair when you find yourself in the middle of a storm rather than in the safely of a newsroom. 

warnings. dramatic fluff, hurt/comfort, description of tornados, a curse word or two, description of injury, slightly inaccurate meteorological info.

word count. 2.9k || masterlist

a/n. hopping on the glen powell bandwagon bc he and daisy absolutely killed it in twisters!! feel free to send me requests for tyler, kate, and javi!

“If you keep looking at him like that your face will get stuck in a scowl, which is really bad for television,” your friend said, leaning into your side. With a roll of your eyes, you managed to pull your attention away from the self-titled ‘tornado wrangler’ who had stirred up a fuss in the line for funnel cakes. People buzzed all around him as he signed shirts and took photos, never dropping his smile that you often dreamed about smacking right off of his face. 

You had grown up alongside Tyler Owens, never as friends but as friends of friends. After you both split off for school to study meteorology, you returned to your hometown for very different reasons. Tyler started in the business of storm chasing, live streaming his adventures to people all across the internet who sensationalized the dangerous weather, and you scored a job as your hometown’s Weather Woman. Your job was to warn people about the threat of tornados while his was to drive head-on into them. 

That was where you two drew your lines in the sand when it came to each other. He thought you were scared of taking risks while you thought his thrill-seeking was stupid and would eventually get him or one of his team members hurt. Those opinions on each other's job led to you two butting heads every time you encountered one another. His mere presence was enough to annoy you, especially at your favorite event of the summer, the fair. 

“Look who it is,” Tyler’s voice sounded near you and your friend nudged your arm in the direction of it. You looked away from her just as he approached you, tipping his hat and flashing his teeth in a smile. “Didn’t know they still let you out of the newsroom these days.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest, as the air of arrogance surrounding him nearly choked you out. “Don’t you have a tornado to chase?” you asked, wanting to end the conversation before it fully started. Unfortunately, he never seemed put off by your jabs, but he was assumed by them. 

“I took the night off,” he replied. “I wanted to see if there was anything worth my while here tonight.” 

You raised your brows. “Oh really?” He nodded, smiling brightly at you. “Find anything yet?” 

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “It’d be easier if she answered my phone calls.” 

Tyler disliked you a whole lot less than you disliked him. After you graduated and he started storm chasing, he tried at every given opportunity to get you to join his team. Even years later he still tried to, no matter how many times you told him the risk he was putting himself and his team in every time they barreled into a storm cell. He was relentless but you were happy where you were at. You wanted to help people when it came to severe weather, not make the storm look enticing for internet audiences. 

“I already told you, I’m not interested.” Storm chasing was a dangerous game that you had no intention of playing. Being from the Midwest, you had lived through your share of tornados. Chasing them was not in apart of your career path.

His smile faded slightly before he seemed to snap back to himself. “All I’m saying is, we could use a mind like yours out in the field.” The compliment was nice, you could admit that to yourself, but it wouldn’t win you over. He knew that too. “But suit yourself.” And with that he walked off, meeting up with the rest of his team that joined him at the fair that night. 

Your friend whistled lowly. “I don’t know how you do it,” she said. 

“Do what?” 

“Say no to a man like that.” You rolled your eyes once more as the line you were in moved. As she stepped forward to order, you threw a quick glance over your shoulder in the direction Tyler had walked off in. You saw him happily chatting with his team before glancing back at you for just a moment before you returned your gaze forward.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of colorful lights, sticky heat, and enough fried food to make your stomach ache in the best possible way. Your friend left after a couple hours of roaming the prize barns and laughing at the kids screaming their heads off on the carnival rides, but you stuck around for a little longer, relishing in the sweet nostalgia the fair brought you. 

Before you had taken a couple of well-deserved days of work, you and your team had predicted a storm front moving. Later that night was supposed to bring rainfall and a thunderstorm or two popping up around the county and neighboring areas. You thought you’d have plenty of time to roam the fair for a little longer until it hit, but you noticed the shift in the weather almost immediately. The sudden uptick in wind pricked the back of your neck as the distant rumble of thunder echoed above the fair chaos. 

It was difficult to predict everything, that you had learned early on in your career. It also was hard to predict how quickly weather could change from bad to deadly. One moment you’re gazing up through the lights into the night sky, trying to gauge the incoming storm, and the next, the sirens are blaring across the fairgrounds. 

The crowd of people running in every direction made the walkways hazardous. You were knocked into and jostled around as you tried to run toward the restrooms that doubled as storm shelters. They were clear at the opposite end of the walkway, but they were your closest option. You dodged and weaved through the swarms of people, trying to stay on your feet. 

You only made it halfway to the shelter when you were stopped by the awful cries of a little girl who sat under the counter of one of the carnival games. She hugged her knees to her chest and called out for her mom, but no one who rushed by stopped. You didn’t think twice before you sidestepped the fleeing crowd and crouched down in front of the little girl. The wind picked up significantly, blowing the cheap prizes right out of the booths and sending everything flying around and knocking into people. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” you raised your voice above the howl of wind and frantic people. 

“My mom!” she cried harder. “I lost her. I don’t know where she is!” 

You glanced back up at the sky. The lightning strikes illuminated the massive, dark mass moving in quickly. “Come with me, and I’ll help you find her, okay?” 

The noise all around grew louder, frightening the little girl, along with yourself, but as you outstretched your hand, she took it, and you quickly pulled her to her feet before you both took off running. The speakers urged everyone to seek shelter immediately, but you watched as people raced in the opposite direction of the shelters, probably bee-lining to cars in an awful call. They’d never out race it. 

“Charlotte!” Someone screamed and the little girl whipped her head around before she tugged hard on your hand. From behind you, the little girl’s mother appeared, immediately scooping up her daughter in her arms. “Oh my, God. Thank you!” she said, looking at you with teary eyes. 

“We have to take cover,” you told her, gently pushing her forward. “The shelter’s just up that way.” She thanked you again before she took off with her daughter in her arms. You wanted to follow, it was stupid not to when the wind gusts became more powerful, rattling everything dangerously and making it hard to think. But there were more people unsure of where to go and what to do. Groups of kids who had been dropped off for the evening stumbling frantically out of the rides and still dizzy. You stepped from the path and tried to direct people as best you could, shouting in tune with the speaker and the sirens for them to hurry into the shelter. 

It wasn’t until larger objects were plucked from the ground and tossed into the air like paper did you abandoned your aiding. The tornado screeched to life, ripping apart pieces of the show barns and rides with ease. You tried to close the distance between yourself and the shelter once more, but it wasn’t people in need that stopped you, it was a sheet of metal pried from the side of one of the food trucks. You tried to dodge the hurling objects, but the sheet came at you hard and fast. 

It sliced your shin, sending a wave of pain up through the rest of your leg. You stumbled, determined to stay upright, but the wind was too strong for your limping figure, and you toppled against the concrete, slamming your knees against the ground before you rolled over into the lousy shelter of a game’s tent somehow still standing. 

Panic started to set in as the storm raged around you, loud and monstrous. You covered your wound with your hands, unsure of where the blaring of the tornado ended and the fast-paced beat of your heart started, drumming in your ears and beating against your skull. You knew you couldn’t stay there, but leaving was just as dangerous as every attraction of the fair swirled around in the air. The cut from your leg painted your hands red and throbbed; it would only slow you down if you tried to run, creating even more of a risk. 

You didn’t know what to do. All of your life, the storms you had faced you’d always been lucky enough to find shelter in plenty of time, from the cellar in your backyard to your high school’s basement created just for such an occasion. 

Through the freight train sounding winds and your thundering heart, you heard a couple of voices that had to be close. Tearing your eyes away from the cut on your leg, you watched as another group of people sprinted down the walkway as someone yelled behind them to run. 

In all of your life, you’d never been so relieved to see Tyler Owens’s face standing just a few feet away; he hadn’t spotted you, and for a terrifying moment you thought he’d be unable to hear you yell out above the screaming storm. But somehow, he did. His head snapped in your direction, rain-coated and windblown, looking both out of sorts and in his element. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he yelled as he ran over to you, dodging flying debris that grew larger by the minute. The second he crouched down in front of you, his eyes flickered onto your legs, and the blood seeping out between your fingers as you tried to keep pressure on the wound. 

“I thought I’d just hang out here,” you said, your sarcasm watered down by the fear clear in your teary eyes.

His brows furrowed, deep in thought for a moment as he looked between you and the distance there was still to cross to the only close shelter. Without saying a word, he peeled off his wet flannel, leaving himself in a shirt that was already nearly soaked through as the sideways rain beat down against the both of you. “I’m gonna tie this around your leg and then we’re gonna run, okay?” 

You shook your head frantically. The ache in your legs was intense and you had already lost a good amount of blood, not enough to make you woozy but you were well on your way. It felt like your heart had crawled up your throat, making it hard to breathe as panic soaked you to the bone along with the rain. Everything around you seemed to be ripped from the ground, even the anchored tent you were under was seconds away from being picked up. 

“Hey,” he said, grabbing a hold of your shoulders, shaking you slightly. “It’ll be alright. You gotta trust me, though.” The sincerity shined in his eyes, bright as the rest of the power around you flickered wickedly. With a nod of your head, you dropped your hands from your leg and let him tie the flannel around your cut. As he pulled it tight, you cried out in pain. “I’m sorry,” he kept repeating until it was knotted. Quickly, he jumped to his feet and helped you up, looping an arm around your waist as you slung an arm around his shoulders. 

“Ready?” You didn’t get a chance to respond as the tent you were under was plucked from the ground, anchors and all, and flung backward into the tornado as it tore through the front entrance of the fairgrounds. Tyler took off, giving you no choice but to follow. 

You two stayed low, trying desperately to avoid the flying objects. With each step your leg burned, but Tyler’s hold on you was strong, not giving any room for you to lag behind or slip away. It felt like hours of running, but it was no more than a minute or two before you reached the shelter. The only major injury between the two of you was your leg, otherwise, you both collected a series of little cuts and bruises from your journey. 

Stumbling into the restroom, you were met with a hoard of scared fairgoers. You two managed to find a spot to slot yourself in with everyone else. He helped you lower yourself to the floor back in the corner just as the tornado was fully on top of you. You brought your knees up to your chest and covered your head. Tyler sat flushed against your side; you felt his hands rest over the top of yours as the building rattled violently. Squeezing your eyes shut, you refused to see the damage until the howl of wind subsided and people started to stir. 

Once it was over, everyone stumbled out of the shelter, getting jumbled together as police and ambulances rushed to the scene. Amongst people pushing and shoving to find their loved ones and get the hell home, you and Tyler were separated and before you could look for him, an EMT caught sight of your bloodied leg and ushered you to one of the ambulances. 

You sat on the back after the EMT stitched up your leg, looking over the torn-apart fairgrounds. Debris was littered everywhere, food trucks and carts overturned and some demolished, and rides were dislocated and strewn about in pieces. 

You clutched the bloodied flannel to your chest, shivering in the loss of adrenaline and temperature drop, and watched the sea of people until a familiar face popped into view, looking a little frantic as he stumbled through the crowd looking like he was in search of something. His eyes finally settled on you before he quickly pushed his way through the crowd until he reached you. 

“Hi,” you greeted, smiling tiredly. 

“I was looking for you everywhere,” he said, sounding slightly out of breath. “I looked away for a second and you were gone and-” You continued to smile, and he stopped himself. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” 

“Nothing,” you replied quietly before clearing your throat. “I, um, I just wanted to thank you. And I’m sorry for ruining your flannel.” You gestured to the ruined piece of clothing resting in your lap. 

Tyler was quiet for a moment, looking at the large bandage around your shin. “Don’t mention it,” he said, brushing off your thanks like he hadn’t just pretty much saved your life. “What were you doing out there anyway?” 

You sighed, feeling a creep of embarrassment up your spine. You should’ve known better but at the moment you just wanted to help people and had little regard for your own safety, until your leg was sliced open, that was. “There were people still out there, trying to figure out where to go. I was trying to help.” 

“That was stupid,” he said. “But brave. Stupidly brave, maybe.” 

“Funny. I think I’ve said the same thing about you a time for two.” 

His signature smirk slowly fell onto his lips. “Not to my face.”

“Oh, no. Never.” 

Tyler laughed, gently patting your knee, lingering for a moment before he dropped his hand back at his side. Someone called out your name, and you spotted your friend running back through the crowd. She had called you as soon as you had made it to the ambulance and told you she’d come back to take you home. 

“You should get some rest,” he said. “I’ll see you around.” As he turned around to walk away, you called out to him. 

“Tyler, wait.” He paused. “You should try calling me again. Maybe I’ll answer this time.” Breaking out in a grin, he tipped his hat in another goodbye, leaving you with a new feeling stirring inside your chest. 

Bonus! 

Hours later, after you had cleaned yourself up, you were tucked into bed, reading by the lamp light knowing sleep was probably far off after the events of the night. You didn’t expect your phone to ring that late into the night, and when you glanced at it, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the caller ID, but that time it was something besides annoyance that you felt. 

You answered, discarding your book on your nightstand. “You don’t waste any time do you,” you teased. 

“What I can say,” Tyler said on the other line. “I know when I find something worth my while.” 

[criminalamnesia]

HIIII!!! I just wanted to say that i really love ur writing! I've read ur traitor series and I can't wait for part 4! I'm a new author, and english isn't my first language, so it's sometimes very hard for me to write bcs i'm stil not that good, but ur fics have helped me improve<3💗!

thank you so much!🫶 im glad you’ve enjoyed the series! and speaking of part four, here it is :)

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

simon didn’t turn to watch you leave the gym.

he stood there, eyes forward, mask clenched in one fist. he could feel the blood drying on his skin. he made no move to wipe it away.

he didn’t blame you for your anger— he couldn’t. he understood the rage. had felt it himself a time or two.

but he couldn’t take everything lying down.

did he deserve your wrath, your fury? yes— and he knew that. there was no making up for what he did; he realized that, but why couldn’t you understand?

he’d never fully taken his walls down around you, and that was no fault of your own. he was a guarded man, and his past gave him every right to be.

he had been burned and broken too many times. he’d seen the people he loved murdered because of him.

he swore he would never let that happen again. he put those walls up, and you knocked some of them down.

but there were some you’d never gotten through, at least, simon told himself you hadn’t. there was always something he was holding back, a piece of himself he wouldn’t give freely. he told himself it was because he couldn’t stand to love you so deeply and then watch you leave.

but really, it was because he needed an out. he needed a way to justify his leaving if something ever happened— and that’s what got him here.

simon trusted the 141 with his life. he trusted his captain with his life. price had never led him astray; john knew his face well before any of the others. well before you.

and when someone you trust so deeply, someone you’ve followed for years, tells you that the person you love has betrayed your team?

you can’t help but believe them. and that’s what simon did.

the evidence was coincidental at first. wrong place, wrong time. but then, everything started to seem like more than a coincidence. pieces of a complicated puzzle were fitting together. things only you and the rest of the 141 would know were leaked.

and all the signs pointed to you.

and although he didn’t want to, simon couldn’t help it. the second price had confided in him that you may be the rat, simon began to distance himself. you had been confused, but he had offered no explanation.

price was the one to question you first. it was a heated conversation in his office, consisting of him showing you the evidence and you becoming furious at the accusations.

johnny came to you next, buttering you up with his flirtatious and unarming words before asking if you’d leaked information.

then there was kyle, who pleaded for the truth. he told you that a case was being built against you, and that if you came clean now, things wouldn’t be so bad.

simon never tried to talk to you about it. the other men would tell him what you’d said, but he had never gone to talk to you himself.

maybe it was pride. simon wasn’t trusting, not after his past. he had let the 141 in, had let you in. and now you were a suspected traitor, and he was angry at himself. angry he hadn’t seen it sooner; angry he’d let you in at all.

but maybe it was hurt. hurt that you’d done this to him, to the team, after knowing everything they’d been through. after stitching up wounds on the battlefield and taking bullets for one another. after sharing simon’s bed and whispering you loved him.

all he knew was that he trusted price. and as evidence built, so did the distance between the two of you, until you were tied to that chair.

and simon had taken his hurt, his anger, out on you. he wasn’t proud of it, and he knew now that he was wrong. but he was still a little angry. angry because you couldn’t see his side of things— not like he could see yours.

so, he was an ass. he didn’t apologize. he snuck flowers to your bedside but kept his distance. he told you to watch your tone because you were still part of the team, and speaking to price like that was only something an outsider would do.

and he told you that he’d spared your life because he had. anger had consumed him, and truthfully, you were lucky he hadn’t done worse.

even if he’d smothered his feelings for you with rage, he still harbored love for you, and that’s why some part of him held back.

he knew you would probably never forgive him. he had made his peace with that.

but he couldn’t stand the fact that you couldn’t understand why he’d done what he did.

the creak of the gym door opening broke simon from his thoughts. he pulled his mask back on before turning around and making his way to the door.

it took one firm knock on the door for price to answer.

the door clicked open, and price sighed when he saw simon, scrubbing a hand over his unruly beard before letting the taller man in. price turned, walking back to his desk chair, while simon closed the door behind him and locked it.

“this is a bloody mess,” the captain said, falling heavily into the chair. it squeaked at the sudden weight, old leather crinkling and crackling.

“doc came and saw me earlier, ‘fore she left for the night. told me about some new injuries, and yelled at me for letting that happen.”

simon didn’t speak. price’s eyes met his, and he sighed again.

“fuckin’ hell, simon. what the fuck did you say? doc said she had to stitch up both their hands.”

“doesn’t matter what I say,” simon spoke, eyes still on the captain “they won’t fuckin’ listen.”

price shook his head. “that’s not true, ‘nd we both know it,” he sounded tired as he spoke, dark bags under his eyes. he paused for a moment, then spoke again.

“spoke to laswell after you left earlier. she said she’ll try to speed up the transfer process. tryin’ to avoid more fuss, and im not fightin’ it any longer.”

“they’re part of our team,” simon spoke, tone rough.

price shook his head. “they are, but I can’t keep doin’ this. can’t keep pushin’ off transferin’ because of you lot. it may be better for us, but not for them.”

the room fell quiet. simon inhaled, exhaled. his fists clenched at his sides before quickly unfurling once more.

he didn’t have a right to be mad at you for leaving, but he was.

“laswell say anythin’ else about tha’ transfer?” simon asked.

price leaned back in his chair, arms folded across his chest. “not much. no word on where or with who, but even if she knew, doubt she’d tell us. for their sake.”

simon gave a small nod and made to turn, but froze as price spoke again.

“she did say she didn’t know if it would go through. they’d have to pass another eval.”

they both knew what that meant. if laswell said that, then she didn’t believe the transfer would happen. kate wouldn’t outwardly say it, but price had known what she’d meant.

pushing the transfer through wouldn’t matter if you couldn’t pass a physical and psychological evaluation— and laswell didn’t think you could.

although he wouldn’t admit it, price was unsure, too. torture was something that took an incredibly devastating toll on the mind and body.

but torture at the hands of your team? there was no telling the damage that that would do to someone. to you.

an honorable discharge was more likely. and, if that was the case, then your rage would likely grow tenfold.

you career, your livelihood, taken from you by the hands of the men you trusted the most. your family, cutting you up and pushing you out.

damned by your team and your country, regardless of everything you’d done for both of them during your service.

you were just another cog in the machine, one that had been damaged and discarded, and a discharge couldn’t make that any clearer.

he thought back to what you had said in the gym earlier, before you’d left.

‘you should have killed me.’

maybe he should have.

thanks to everyone for your patience! also just incase you didn’t see my post about it—

im no longer doing a taglist! my side blog @troiastitans will reblog my works from now on, so if you want to know when I post, follow that account and allow notifications!

as always, thank you for the love! (also I hope you all enjoyed a little peek into simon’s head!)

[itneverendshere]

how would the cameron family react to rafe dating a pogue

Ps: ward's not a monster in this, just an asshole and shitty dad, bc my boy rafe deserves a better father figure (but i also need his daddy issues to make this work) also, didn’t know if this request was for this couple but i felt like it fitted them perfectly so here we are again 🫶🏻🤗

found a girl my parents love - r.c

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (bartender!reader universe)

Rafe selfishly wanted to keep you a secret for as long as he could. 

Not because he was ashamed of you—not even close. You were his, the only person who actually got him. That part of him he never let anyone see, not his family, not his boys.

It was complicated, though, and his family didn't do "complicated" well. Especially not with a pogue. His dad would flip if he knew he was dating someone he hadn’t been personally introduced to before.

The bartender from the club, of all people. The one they’d see serving drinks to them all summer, like you didn’t exist outside those moments. That was the thing though, you did exist, more than anyone he’d ever known. You were real. That’s why he wanted to keep it just for himself. It was his one thing that no one else could touch, could ruin. Topper knew, sure, but he wasn’t going to run his mouth to Sarah after she broke his heart.

So yeah, he held on to it, kept you away from the world that would tear it down before it even had a chance to really breathe. Until Weezie stumbled into your date at the ice cream shop.

He remembered the way his heart stopped when he saw her walk in. Of all places. Of all the people. She looked at him with wide brown eyes, then at you, and then back to him like she’d just walked in on something she wasn’t supposed to see. 

And honestly? She did.

“What the hell are you doing here, Weeze?” he snapped, more out of panic than anger.

"Uh? Getting ice cream?" Her face lit up, a huge grin stretching across her cheeks. “What are you doing here? And with her?” She looked at you, her excitement bubbling over before Rafe could get a word in. “Oh my God, this is so cool! You’re dating her? Like, for real?”

You smiled awkwardly, sensing the tension rolling off him. He looked like he was seconds away from shitting himself. He could’ve killed Weezie right then and there. But instead, he just sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Yeah, well… don’t tell anyone, alright?”

“Are you kidding?” Weezie practically bounced. “I won’t say a word. Scout’s honor.” She shot you a smile before turning to leave. “But like, this is so cool.”

He scowled at her, “Stop being creepy.”

You slapped his chest, scolding him “Be nice.”

“Oh, I like her!”

She kept her word. For a little while, at least.

A few weeks later, they were all sitting around the dinner table—Ward, Sarah, Rafe, and Weezie. Rose was out doing whatever the fuck she did with her friends. Everything was going fine until Weezie, mid-conversation about nothing important, let it slip.

“I saw Rafe and his girlfriend the other day,” she said, just like it was no big deal.

Girlfriend.

Rafe froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. Sarah looked like she’d just been smacked in the face.

“Girlfriend?” Sarah’s voice went up an octave. “Since when do you have a girlfriend?”

He shot Weezie a look that could shove her ten feet under, but it was too late. She slapped a hand over her mouth, realizing her mistake.

Ward raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. “You got something to share with the family, son?”

Rafe cleared his throat, putting his fork down, already working up a sweat. He knew he couldn’t lie his way out of this one. And honestly?

Maybe it was time to stop hiding. He glanced at Sarah, who still looked at him like he was from outer space, then at his dad. He’d always given him shit about girls, all these big speeches about how none of them were ever worth bringing home unless he was serious. 

Well, he was serious.

“Yeah,” Rafe muttered, meeting his dad’s eyes. “I’ve been seeing someone.”

Sarah’s mouth dropped open. “Who?”

“She’s a pogue!”

Rafe closed his eyes, sighing as Weezie blurted the most important piece of information out. She really just dropped the biggest bomb in the most casual way possible. His dad’s expression didn’t change much, but Sarah? She was fully in shock, her jaw practically hitting the table.

“A Pogue?” Sarah repeated, like she couldn’t believe the words even existed in the same sentence as Rafe. “Are you serious? In this lifetime?”

He shot her a glare. “Yeah, a Pogue. What, is that some kind of crime?”

“What?” She shrieked, “You gave me so much shit when I dated John B!”

He clenched his jaw, his patience hanging by a thread. Of course she was going to bring up John B. She couldn’t let anything go. “That was different,” he snapped.

Sarah scoffed, folding her arms “Different? How exactly?”

Rafe rolled his eyes. “Because John B’s a dirtbag who had you sneaking around doing God knows what. This is—” he stopped himself, trying to find the right words. “This is different, okay? She’s not like him.”

“So, it’s okay when you date a Pogue? Got it.”

“To be fair,” Weezie chimed in, “John B smelled like shit.”

He couldn’t help the snort that escaped his lips, even though the last thing he wanted to do was encourage her. Sarah shot Weezie a death glare, clearly not amused.

“Language,” Ward warned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “How many times do I have to tell you girls? No swearing at the table.”

The room fell silent, everyone looking at Rafe like they were waiting for him to say something. His dad didn’t even look mad—if anything, he looked weirdly intrigued.

“So,” Ward said slowly, his gaze locking onto Rafe’s. “You’re serious about her then? Serious enough for me to meet her?”

Rafe swallowed. “Yeah. I am.”

“Alright. Let’s make that happen then.”

He blinked, completely thrown off. “What?”

Ward’s response was calm, almost too calm. “If you’re serious about this girl, then it’s time I meet her.”

Rafe just stared at him, unsure if he’d heard that right. His dad wasn’t angry? Was he impressed? Or was this some kind of setup?

“You... wanna meet her?” he repeated, like he needed the words to make sense.

His dad’s expression wasn’t the usual stone wall of judgment. “I’ve always said if it’s not serious, don’t bother bringing her around. You’re saying she’s important to you, right?”

“Uh, yeah…” Rafe’s voice trailed off, still half-expecting this to somehow turn into a lecture or some Ward Cameron test. “She is.”

He nodded, like he was already planning it. “Alright then, set it up. I’ll meet her.”

He couldn’t tell if this was a win or if he’d just walked into something he wasn’t prepared for. His whole plan was to avoid this exact conversation. He looked across the table, expecting Sarah to be just as blindsided as he was, but she was still stuck on one detail.

“You’re dating a Pogue,” she muttered, shaking her head like she couldn’t get past that fact. “I just… wow.”

Rafe shot her a glare. “Get over it.”

Weezie, always the little instigator, grinned. “She was cool.”

“Okay, so… when do I get to meet her?” Sarah’s brown eyes widened with curiosity. “Is she cute? What’s she like?”

This wasn’t how he thought the night was going to go at all. 

An hour later, he was lying in bed, staring at his phone, his mind still spinning from dinner. He pulled up your contact, hesitating for a second before hitting the FaceTime button. The screen flashed for a moment, and then there you were, all cozy in your own bed, unaware of what was about to hit.

“Hi baby,” you chirped, clearly happy to see him, “What’s up? You look stressed.”

Rafe rubbed his face, letting out a long breath. “Yeah, well, uh—something happened at dinner tonight.”

Your face scrunched up in confusion, tilting the phone closer to you. “What? Did Sarah say something dumb again?”

“Nah, worse,” he muttered. “Weezie... Weezie kinda let it slip. About us.”

Your eyes widened immediately. “Wait, what? She told them?!”

“Yeah,” he said, letting out a low chuckle at the memory of the whole dinner spiraling out of control. “Just dropped it casually like it was no big deal. Sarah freaked out, and my dad—" He stopped, rubbing the back of his neck. “He wants to meet you.”

For a second, you didn’t say anything. You just blinked, processing his words. 

“Wait... Ward Cameron wants to meet me? As in, your dad?”

“Yeah,” He mumbled, almost sheepishly. “He’s all, ‘If you’re serious, I should meet her,’ or some shit. Like it’s no big deal.”

You sat up straight, your heart racing. “Rafe, that is a big deal! What the hell do you mean he wants to meet me?!” Your voice rose, panic starting to take over. “Oh my God, I didn’t even think about having to meet your dad. I figured we’d just— I don’t know—figure it out later!”

Rafe winced, knowing this would freak you out. He tried to keep his voice calm, even though he wasn’t exactly calm himself. “Baby, it’s not like tomorrow or anything. We can plan it out.”

But you were already spiraling. “Your dad’s gonna take one look at me— What if he hates me? What if he tells you I’m not worth it, and then—” you paused, your voice breaking slightly, “What if you start to believe him?”

His stomach clenched at your words. He sat up, the phone now held closer to his face. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop right there. What are you even talking about?”

You bit your lip, your thoughts running wild. “I mean... what if he convinces you that I’m not good enough? What if you start seeing me differently? You know how your dad is—he could talk you out of this, talk you out of us.”

Rafe shook his head, almost angry that you’d even think that way. “Are you serious right now? No way in hell is that happening. I don’t give a shit what my dad thinks. You’re the one I’m with because I want to be with you.”

You sighed, your nerves still rattled. “But what if he tries to get in your head? You always talk about how much pressure he puts on you. What if he—”

He cut you off, his voice firm, assertive. “Look, I’m serious about you. I told him that tonight. It doesn’t matter what he says, because you’re the one I love. No one’s changing my mind about that. Not even Ward fucking Cameron.” His eyes softened a little. “I already met your sister. This is just the next step, yeah? It’s us. We’re solid.”

“I think I’m gonna throw up.”

He hated this—hated that the idea of meeting his dad was making you feel like this, but he couldn’t blame you. Ward was intimidating even on his best days, and this was not going to be one of those days.

“You’re not gonna throw up,” he said, trying to calm you down, though he wasn’t sure if he was trying to reassure you or himself.

You shook your head, running a hand through your bed hair. “What if I say something dumb? What if I screw up, and he hates me, and then everything goes downhill? I’m not, like... your people. You know that.”

His jaw clenched, hating the way you thought of yourself like that. “Don’t say that,” he scolded, “You’re exactly my people. You’re my person.”

“Yeah, but—”

“No ‘buts.’” He cut you off, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Listen to me. My dad’s opinion doesn’t change anything. He’s not gonna make me see you any differently. You’re still gonna be the same girl I’m crazy about, no matter what he says or doesn’t say. Got it?”

You took a deep breath, trying to believe him. “It’s just—I don’t know, Rafe. I don’t fit into that world, and what if he sees that right away?”

He hated that you felt this way, hated that his dad had this kind of power hanging over the two of you. “You don’t need to fit into his world, okay? You fit into mine, and that’s all that matters.”

Your lips quivered, and for a second, he thought you might start crying. He could feel the panic rolling off of you through the phone, and it hit him hard—he hadn’t realized just how terrified you were of this.

“What if he really doesn’t think I’m good enough for you?” You whispered, almost like you were scared to say it out loud.

Rafe’s heart clenched, and without thinking, he shot up out of bed, pacing his room like he needed to burn off the frustration

“You’re more than good enough for me.”

Your breath hitched, and you looked away for a second like you were trying to compose yourself.

“I just don’t want him to—I don’t know? To make you feel like you have to choose between me and your family.”

He stopped pacing, his grip tightening on the phone. “If it ever came to that? I’d choose you. Every fucking time.”

You blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. “Rafe—”

“I mean it,” he said, cutting you off again. “I’m not letting my dad, or anyone else, get in the way. I don’t care if he’s Ward Cameron or the president of the United States. He’s not gonna run my life, and he sure as hell isn’t gonna ruin the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I love you. And nothing my dad says or thinks is gonna change that. Ever.”

Tears stung at the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall over. Not because you were scared anymore, but because of him. Because of how much he cared. How much he loved you, even when you were spiraling.

He was staring at the screen, concern written all over his face, brows furrowing, "Wait, are you crying?" His voice softened, like he wasn’t sure how to handle you like this, but he knew he wanted to. He needed to.

You quickly rubbed at your eyes, laughing to try and cover up the tears, "No, no, I just— got something in my eye." Your laugh was shaky, and you knew you weren’t fooling anyone.

He didn’t say anything for a second, just watched you with that loving look of his that made you want to bawl your eyes out even harder. He saw right through you. He always did.

“You know,” he finally said, “You don’t have to worry about all that shit. I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

And that’s when you almost lost it. Because wow. No one had ever said something like that to you before, not until him. Never like that, like he really meant it, like you were the most important thing in his world.

You sniffed, trying to laugh it off again, but it just came out all soft and broken. “I’m just—” you paused, not even sure how to explain how you were feeling, “I’m not used to this. Like, you... caring this much. Loving me like this.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and he leaned a little closer to the screen, “I’m not stopping.”

“I know. I love you too.”

It was real now.

Meeting the Camerons wasn’t something you could avoid anymore, but at least you knew you had Rafe, a hundred percent.

“You still freaking out?” he asked, though his tone was lighter, like he knew the answer.

“Yeah,” you admitted with a small laugh. “But I’ll get over it.”

“Good,” he said, his smirk returning. “Because I kinda need you around.”

“Kinda?”

He grinned, dimples framing his face, “Okay, a lot.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Rafe hadn’t said a word the entire drive, which was already freaking you out more than you wanted to admit. His knuckles were white, tight around the steering wheel. His jaw was locked, teeth grinding together and you’d caught him glancing at you out of the corner of his eye at least three times in the past minute.

Your heart was hammering, stomach in knots, and you were starting to wonder if you might actually throw up by the time you got to Tannyhill.

“Baby, seriously, if we crash into a tree ‘cause you’re having a silent meltdown over there, that’s not gonna help either of us.”

He blinked, finally loosening his grip on the wheel. “Sorry. I’m just—fuck, I don’t know.”

You tried to smile, but it felt weak. “Yeah, me too. I feel like I’m walking into some kind of corporate job interview I didn’t apply for.”

Rafe snorted. “Yeah, except the CEO’s a control freak and the company’s, I don’t know, cursed or something.”

That made you laugh, a short, nervous laugh, but still. You appreciated the attempt at humor, even if the nerves in your stomach weren’t going anywhere.

“So, uh... game plan?” you asked, half-joking, but mostly serious. “Am I supposed to shake his hand? Call him Mr. Cameron? Or is it more of a ‘hey, what’s up, Ward?’ situation?”

Rafe finally cracked a grin, shaking his head. “God, I don’t know. Don’t call him Ward; that might send him into some power trip. But definitely don’t call him Mr. Cameron either, ‘cause that’ll just make it weird.”

“Great, so I’ll just go with ‘Hi’ and hope I don’t trip over my own feet.”

“Perfect,” Rafe deadpanned, glancing over at you, “Just be yourself. He’s not as bad as you think. Mostly.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Mostly?”

Rafe’s lips pressed together. "He's not gonna throw you out or anything. And if he does, we’re leaving together. But Sarah...”

“Sarah,” you groaned, leaning your head back against the seat. You’d barely met Sarah, and from what you could tell, she wasn’t exactly thrilled about Rafe’s choice in girlfriends.

“Just don’t let her get to you,” Rafe muttered, his hand reaching for yours, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “She’s just mad because I used to make John B’s life a living hell.”

“Define hell.”

Rafe smirked, his fingers still interlaced with yours. "I mean, I threw him off a boat once," he said casually, like that wasn’t one of the most insane things you’d ever heard.

You blinked. “You what?”

He shrugged, keeping his eyes on the road, like it was no big deal. “He was running his mouth about me."

You stared at him in disbelief, “And you think I’m the one who needs to be worried?”

He laughed, finally loosening up a little, “Relax, baby. I’m not throwing you off anything.”

“So she’s not mad about me? She’s just mad about the double standard?”

“Yeah.”

That made it a little easier to breathe.

The silence settled back in for a moment as you pulled up to Tannyhill. The sight of the massive estate took your breath away. You couldn’t help but feel like you were entering a completely different world now that you were here—a world that wasn’t exactly built for you.

Rafe must’ve noticed the way your hands gripped the edge of your seat a little tighter because he let out a long breath.

“Hey, it’s just a dinner. We eat, we talk, we leave. It’s not like they’re gonna put you under a microscope.”

You gave him a side-eye. “You know, I wasn’t nervous until you said that.”

He grinned sheepishly. “Shit. Sorry.”

The car came to a stop, and you could see the flicker of lights through the windows of the house. The pressure in your chest was building, but Rafe turned toward you, his hand cupping your face.

“Listen,” his blue eyes locked on yours, “I don’t care what happens in there. You’ve got me. If anyone makes you feel like you don’t belong, we’re out. Promise.”

You swallowed hard, nodding as you leaned into his touch. “Okay.”

“I’m serious,” he continued, stroking his thumb across your cheek. “One word and I’ll get you out.”

You kissed his palm, “I know.”

“Okay.” he muttered, then pulled away, giving one final deep breath before turning off the ignition. “Let’s get this over with.”

You both stepped out of the car, Rafe knocked once, and within seconds, it swung open to reveal Sarah standing there in all her kook-with-pogue -tendencies glory.

“Well, well,” she smirked, eyes narrowing at you two.

Rafe shot her a sharp look, “Knock it off.”

She rolled her eyes, stepping aside to let you in. “I’m kidding. Kinda.” She turned her attention to you, and you could feel her sizing you up, looking completely unfazed as she led the two of you further into the house. "Dad’s in the study. He’s waiting."

Your heart skipped a beat at that. Waiting? What did that even mean?

Rafe must have felt your nerves spike because he reached for your hand again, squeezing it as you followed Sarah down the long hallway.

The house felt even bigger on the inside, with its high ceilings and fancy decor. You felt out of place. But then you peeked over at Rafe, and something about the way he held your hand made you feel like maybe—just maybe—you did belong.

At least to him.

Sarah finally stopped outside a large wooden door, turning to you with an exaggerated sigh.

"Good luck.”

Rafe hesitated for a second, his hand still gripping yours tightly. "You ready?"

No. Absolutely not. But you nodded anyway. "Yeah. Let’s do this."

He pushed open the door, and there he was.

Ward Cameron, sitting behind a massive oak desk, looking as powerful and intimidating as ever. His eyes flicked up from whatever paperwork he was working on, settling on you with a sharp intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Rafe," Ward said, his voice smooth and controlled, before turning his gaze to you. "And you must be... her."

You swallowed hard, trying to muster up the courage to say something, anything. "Yeah, that’s me. Hi, Mr. Cameron."

You immediately regretted it. Mr. Cameron? It sounded too formal, too awkward.

Ward didn’t seem to mind, though. If anything, he looked amused. He stood up, coming around the desk to get a better look at you. His eyes scanned over you briefly, but it wasn’t the cold, judgmental look you’d expected. Instead, it felt more like... curiosity.

"So, you’re the girl my son’s been so serious about."

You nodded, wanting to be anywhere but stuck in that claustrophobic room despite its size, "That’s me.”

He raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he looked between you and Rafe, “I hear you’re working at the Country Club.”

It wasn’t really a question—more like he already knew everything about you. Oh. You didn’t like that, knowing that someone else was snooping around for dirt on you. At least it sounded like that was the plan.

You managed a nod, trying to keep your voice from sounding too hushed. “Yeah, I’ve been working there for a while.”

His expression didn’t really give anything away, but the way he looked at you, was unnerving. Rafe’s hand squeezed yours, reminding you that, no matter what, he had your back. One word and you were out.

“Good,” Ward finally said, “I like that you work.” He sneaked a stern look at your boyfriend before turning his attention back to you. “He could use some of that drive.”

Wait. What?

You hadn’t expected that. You thought maybe he’d grill you or give you the whole ‘what are your intentions with my son’routine. But no, he was... complimenting you? It had to be some kind of set up.

“Dad—” Rafe started, clearly not expecting that either, but Ward cut him off with a raised hand.

“No, seriously.” His eyes were back on you, and there was almost a smile there, like he was actually impressed. “It’s a good quality. I respect people who work hard, people who don’t just expect things to be handed to them. And from what I’ve heard, you’re one of those people.”

You didn’t even know what to say.

Ward Cameron? Complimenting you? Was this real life? You’d walked in here prepared for a full-on interrogation, and instead, he was... encouraging.

“I just hope some of that rubs off on my son,” Ward added, shooting Rafe a look, and you swore there was a glint of amusement in his eyes. “He could stand to work a little harder. He’s always been a bit lazy.”

You bit back a laugh, glancing over at Rafe. He was glaring at his dad, but you could tell he wasn’t really pissed, just...embarrassed. You found it endearing.

“Thanks, Dad,” Rafe mumbled.

“I like it. Maybe you’ll inspire him to work a little harder.”

You blinked. Wait, was this actually happening? Did Ward Cameron, of all people, just say he liked you? This whole night felt like it was gonna be a disaster, and now... maybe it wasn’t gonna be so bad. You hoped so.

You really wanted his family to like you, you felt like you owned him at least trying.

“You know," Ward began, "I wasn't always the man you see standing here today." His voice took on a reflective tone, and you could sense the change in the atmosphere as he prepared to tell his story. "I grew up on the Cut, just like a lot of those kids you see around he, like you,” Ward said, almost casually, but you could tell it wasn’t a casual thing for him. "Back then, I didn’t have much. But I worked my ass off to get out of that place. I didn’t have a name, no wealth behind me. What I have now? I built that from the ground up. No one handed me anything."

Rafe, who had been quiet up until now, let out a small, barely audible sigh, shifting uncomfortably beside you. You took a quick glance at him and caught the unmistakable eye-roll he tried to hide.

Clearly, this wasn’t the first time Ward had given this speech. But at the same time, you could tell he was relieved that his dad wasn’t tearing into you. That had to count for something, right?

Ward, oblivious or perhaps just unfazed by his son’s reaction, continued, his voice gaining momentum like he was giving you some kind of motivational speech. "It wasn’t easy. There were plenty of times when I could’ve given up, but I didn’t. I pushed through, made connections, took risks. That’s how you get ahead. You have to be willing to do whatever it takes. Now look where I am—" He gestured around at the lavish room, the estate itself practically a testament to his success. "I built an empire. Something real. Something that can last."

You nodded politely, unsure if you were supposed to say something. Rafe’s obvious eye-rolling and silent huffs of frustration beside you made it clear that he’d heard all this a hundred times before. He shifted in his seat, crossing his arms, clearly waiting for his dad to wrap it up.

But Ward wasn’t done yet. He turned his attention back to you, his eyes narrowing slightly. "The point is," he said, his tone softening a little, "I respect people who are willing to work for what they want. I see that in you. It’s not about where you start—it’s about where you’re going."

Rafe let out a short, quiet breath that you might’ve missed if you weren’t sitting right next to him. He shot you a small, knowing smile, almost like he was apologizing for the speech but also relieved that Ward wasn’t being an asshole.

You squeezed his hand under the table. At least his dad wasn’t tearing you down.

"Thanks, Mr. Cameron," you said, finally finding your voice. "I really appreciate that."

He nodded, seeming satisfied with himself. "Just remember," he added, his voice lowering as if he was giving you some kind of life lesson, "Hard work pays off. You keep doing what you’re doing, and you’ll get somewhere. Don’t ever settle, not even for him.”

“Thanks again.”

Rafe looked like he was about to explode from how much he was holding back, but he just gave you a quick wink as if to say, Yeah, this is typical dad, but hey—he likes you, so we’re good.

Ward clapped his hands together, the moment of sincerity quickly passing. "Alright, well, I think dinner’s ready. Shall we?"

He strode ahead, leading the way out of the study and toward the dining room, leaving you and Rafe a few steps behind. The moment he was out of earshot, you looked up at Rave, “You think we’re good?”

He smirked, leaning down slightly to meet your eyes, his tone all teasing. “Baby, I think he might build you a pedestal.” 

You couldn’t help but snort, trying to keep your voice down as you followed Ward. “Really? After that ‘self-made empire’ speech?”

He rolled his eyes dramatically, giving you a knowing look. “Trust me, if you got through that and he didn’t start questioning your entire existence, you’re golden. The man sees himself in anyone who works hard enough to breathe without permission.”

You bit back a laugh, gripping his hand as you walked down the long hallway. “Yeah, I was getting that vibe.”

His grin grew wider, his thumb skimming over your knuckles. “And look, usually, it’s a full-blown interrogation by now. You’re good.”

You raised your eyebrows, slightly surprised. “Really?”

Rafe nodded. “Oh yeah. Sarah’s brought home guys before and it was... rough.” He shook his head, “He actually likes you. That’s rare.”

Maybe things with the Camerons were actually going to be okay.

[nadvs]

omg i have this idea where its back in the college party days and y/n has had way too much to drink and rafe being the great fwb he is whisk her away back to his dorm but she keeps initiating sex but rafe keeps refusing bc she’s drunk but y/n keeps trying and eventually get off on his lap :3

aaaaaa this is so good 🤭 went with possessive/mean rafe here… it just felt right 👀

based on this fic! 18+!

» au masterlist

rafe is sure she’s had enough to drink when she starts table dancing. the guys in the frat house are cheering her on as she moves to the loud music and as much as rafe enjoys the sight of her dancing, he beckons her off the table.

he knows if she lets her go any longer, people might start recording her, and she’ll be mortified considering enough people on his campus know her as one of the cheerleaders on their rival college’s basketball team. and because he genuinely sees her as a friend now, he wants to spare her the embarrassment.

she’s laughing as they rush out of the house into the warm night, her hand at the crook of rafe’s elbow.

“why are we leaving?” she slurs.

“because you looked like you were about to start stripping,” rafe murmurs.

admittedly, even though they’re just messing around, he doesn’t like the idea of guys looking at her like that. she doesn’t belong to him, but sometimes he likes to think that she does.

“is that so bad?” she says. “could’ve earned some tips.”

“you’re so fucking drunk,” he laughs.

“where are we going?”

“my place.”

“oh,” she says. “what are we gonna do?”

“sleep.”

once they get into rafe’s dorm and she presses him up against the wall to kiss him, she realizes he’s going to keep teasing her when he gives her a chaste kiss on her lips and gently pushes her back at her shoulders.

“i’ll get you a shirt to sleep in,” he tells her.

“wait, you were being serious?” she says. “we’re just here to sleep?”

“yeah. you’re wasted.”

she looks up at him with a confused pout. having her here for himself while she’s so obviously horny is turning him on, but it feels wrong doing anything with her that she might forget.

just a few nights ago, they fell into conversation about flings they regret, and she told him she hates when she can’t remember all the details of a hook-up because she was too drunk.

it’s not like he’s just being a good guy. this isn’t all about nobility. he refuses to be part of anything she’d want to take back because if she regrets tonight, she might never want to hook up with him again.

“i would still want to if i was sober, if that’s what you’re worried about,” she says. “i always want to with you.”

coming from her, the compliment makes rafe’s cheeks go hot.

“still, it’s…” rafe steps away. “i can’t.”

she’s still confused as he keeps his back to her, rifling through his dresser. playing along, she pulls off her top and her jeans and her bra, breathing a sigh of relief once she’s out of her tight clothes.

when he turns around and sees her in just her panties, he stills. the way his eyes travel down her body makes it clear to her that he wants to fuck just as bad as she does.

“here,” he finally says, holding out a shirt for her. she steps closer to him, taking it.

“thanks.” she doesn’t rush to put it on. she’s too dizzy.

rafe clears his throat. at this point, he’s hard enough for her to be able to see it under his jeans.

she settles on his bed, putting on the shirt while he pulls his off. she gapes at his muscular body, crossing her legs just to relieve the ache between her legs.

he turns away as he takes off his jeans, but she already noticed what he’s trying to hide.

“you’re hard,” she says, leaning back.

rafe glances over his shoulder. she’s trying to seduce him. it’s almost working.

“obviously,” he says tensely, seeing her sitting pretty in his bed. “look at you.”

he starts to look for shorts to sleep in. but she reaches out to grab his hand.

“then why don’t we do something about it?”

she pulls him closer. while he could undoubtedly withstand her strength, he chooses not to, sinking next to her on his bed, left in just his boxers.

“do i need to prove to you how bad i want it?” she whispers, sitting up to straddle him.

rafe’s lips twist in frustration. he’s so hard that it hurts at this point. he feels like an idiot to not give her what she obviously wants, to not rip off what little clothes remain between them and fuck her as hard as he can, but it just doesn’t feel right.

“you’re too drunk,” he says, lids low as he tilts his head to meet her stare.

in her haze, she can finally see that he’s not teasing. he’s being serious. she’s disappointed, but flashes a small, understanding smile.

the look on her face makes rafe feel guilty. and he hardly ever feels guilty.

“sorry,” she says. “we’ll go to bed.”

she starts to swing her leg off him, but feels his fingers press into her thigh.

“wait,” he sighs.

he holds her hips tightly, pulling her down to sit on his bare thigh. when he feels how wet she is through her panties, arousal twists tightly in his stomach.

“damn,” he groans. “you really wanna get off that bad, hmm?”

“let’s…” she says breathily. “let’s go to bed. you don’t have to do this-”

“i won’t be doing anything,” he interrupts.

when he pushes his leg up against her, her breath hitches. she follows his lead, putting the slightest amount of pressure on him, slowly rolling her hips forward and finally finding a bit of relief, letting out a happy sigh.

heat pricks every inch of his skin. this is already a nearly impossible test of willpower.

“that feel good?” rafe’s voice is low and rough.

“yeah,” she says. she meets his eyes, her lips slightly parted as she rests her hands on his shoulders.

“what were you doing dancing like that?” his thumbs press harder into her hips, almost like he’s punishing her for getting him so turned on when he can’t do anything about it.

“having fun,” she whines. she grinds against his hard thigh again, the friction making goosebumps bloom on her skin.

rafe’s hand runs up the curve of her hip and dips under the shirt draped over her body, cupping her breast.

“you can’t be doing that anymore, you understand?” he mutters.

“i understand,” she answers breathily. right now, she’ll say anything he wants her to let her keep doing this.

her writhes start to get harder. when he pinches her nipple, she moans and her eyes flutter shut. he stares at her, the way her pretty features fall in pleasure.

he hates the thought of another man seeing her like this. and he hates that he cares. he tells himself it’s the blue balls making him so angry and possessive.

“were you hoping some other guy would take you home?” he says, flexing his thigh. she moans again at the pressure, grinding with fervent hunger.

“no.” she shakes her head. “no.”

her breaths start to get faster as she rides him, body tensing from the pressure, from the way he’s playing with her tits.

“you think another guy would let you use him like this?” he says.

she leans closer, capturing his lips, kissing him out of sheer appreciation. their tongues meet, hot against each other.

“thank you,” she breathes, her forehead pressed against his.

“yeah, you better fucking thank me,” rafe mutters.

her grip on his shoulders tightens as she rolls her hips, thighs aching as the friction on her clit is finally enough to make her body shake in release.

she rides out her orgasm, trembling on top of him, moaning so loud that rafe can’t wait until the next time he can be inside of her, earning those sounds from her in his favorite way.

she stays seated on his lap, panting in his ear. her entire body is tingling in pleasure and exhaustion.

his cock is throbbing with how turned on he is. but he wraps an arm around her waist, guiding her onto his pillow, looking down at her lying in his bed with her chest heaving and her eyes shut.

when she wakes up, her head in splitting pain. she shuffles to feel rafe’s arm draped over her, his chest against her back.

she rubs her eye with her knuckle. the ache of her hangover hits her immediately.

“you want another shot?” rafe grumbles behind her, the smile in his voice apparent.

“ugh,” she says, nauseous at the thought of it. “you’re a dick.”

“what?” he laughs, playing dumb.

she shuts her eyes again. as she stretches out her legs, she feels his erection against her ass. and then she recalls bits and pieces of last night. him refusing to hook up since she was so wasted. getting off on his lap. thanking him. coming so hard that her body went numb.

“did i dance on a table last night?” she murmurs.

“you remember, huh?”

“fuck,” she whispers into his pillow. rafe hopes she doesn’t remember his show of possession last night. she doesn’t seem to.

“you wouldn’t have sex with me,” she recalls.

“no matter how much you begged.”

he expects her to tease him back, but she doesn’t.

“i’m definitely sober now,” she says, pushing up against him. “if you want to.”

she feels him twitch against her. she wants this. and he deserves it.

“i think you do,” she says.

rafe impatiently pulls her panties down. she raises her leg, feeling the head of his cock pressing against her as he guides himself between her legs.

he groans into her hair once he sinks into her, enjoying the familiar feeling of her heat wrapped around him. this is the best way to start his morning, deep inside her.

he doesn’t build up the pace. instead, he starts slamming her from behind at the speed he wants, hand on her hip as he fucks her just how he likes.

unlike every other time they’ve fucked, it doesn’t take long for him to come, his hips striking against her ass in sporadic jerks.

they’re both breathless when he pulls out. eventually, she finally finds the strength to sit up. she looks back at him, offering him a tired smile despite her aching head as she starts to pull off his shirt.

“just give it back later,” rafe says.

he feels off. he knows they’re friends. that this isn’t their last time hooking up. but it’s weirdly comforting for her to hold on to something of his and have a reason to see him again.

she shrugs and keeps his shirt on, finding her pants on the floor. he watches her pull her jeans on, wishing he knew how to shake this feeling she gives him that no other girl ever has.

“thanks. i’ll see you soon,” she says, heading for the door.

rafe finds himself thinking he can’t wait until then.

[maxlarens]

i promise i'm writing my max oneshot CURRENTLY but i had to get the sillies out about this really badly. australian spring/summer i love u i love u i love u!!!! also at this point i think the difference between a one shot and drabble on this account is non existent and simply based on vibes. this is only a one shot bcs it feels a bit more coherent i suppose?

LN: australia street

pairing(s): lando norris x piastri!reader, oscar piastri & piastri!reader

word count: 1.3k+

It all feels very familiar, nostalgic even— though you've never been in quite this situation before. With Oscar sure; you always rope your brother into doing things when you're in Australia again. But this is the first time that Lando's joined you.

It's nice, to be home.

Not that it's yours or Oscar's home anymore (that's not true. It always will be, no matter where in the world you jet off to). It's certainly not Lando's. It's hard to put words to the feeling, you just know it's nice.

You're driving, of course, because Oscar and Lando can never decide which of the two of them should drive. So you'd snatched the keys to the Piastri family '96 Holden Commodore and slammed the driver door behind you before either of them could say boo. Lando had snagged the passenger seat in a mad dash that you'd watched play out in the rear-view mirror, while Oscar had complained all the way to the backseat.

"Whered'ya wanna go?", you half turn your head to ask Oscar, checking your blind spot at the same time.

Oscar hums as he thinks. You can feel Lando's eyes burning a hole into the side of your face.

"Do you remember that fish and chips shop—"

You do, "Where Dad used to take us? Yeah, it closed down," then you add, "Besides, Lando hates fish. Jeez, Osc."

"Ah fuck," Oscar groans, "That sucks."

Lando makes a noise, indignant, "I can't believe you forgot. It's my one thing."

Oscar rolls his eyes, "It's not your one thing, Lando. You have plenty of things."

They start to bicker, devolving into an argument that you only understand about half of, about pet peeves and the things the other one does that get on the other’s nerves. You chime in a few times to agree about Oscar’s annoying habits, the things you'd grown up complaining to your Mum about. Quietly to yourself, you decide on a route to an old Italian place you know is still kicking around— they won't mind.

You roll your window down, feel the balmy spring breeze in your hair, on your face. It smells like the bloom of jasmine flowers, of warmth, of the smoke of people BBQ-ing in their backyards. You breathe deeply, absently aware of the petered-out conversation. Oscar dozing in the backseat like he always does. Lando looking out the other window, watching gum trees and bottlebrush on the sides of the road. 'M looking for koala’s he'd said the other day, which had made you laugh. You'd been tempted to tell him about drop bears, but you're sure that Daniel had already warned him of the dangers.

"Do you miss it here?", Lando asks suddenly.

"Mm," you affirm, "I do."

"A lot?"

You shrug at the question, not sure why he's pressing it, "Sure, Lan."

"Then why do you travel with Oscar?", you spare a glance at him, he's fiddling with a bracelet on his wrist, the one you'd made him that matched the one you'd made Oscar that matched the one you wore, "Don't you want to, y'know, settle down here?"

You raise an eyebrow, scoff a little, "God, I'm not an old maid, dude. I'm not ready to pop out babies yet. Far out."

"No, no," he's blushing, you know he is, you don't even need to check, his tan cheeks growing a little darker, redder, "Fuck. That's not what I meant. You know what I meant."

You snicker. You do. But Lando is fun to rile up.

A latent sigh leaves your mouth, "I dunno," you admit, "It's my favourite place. But I have the rest of my life to come back, and besides, it's more special like this. I appreciate it more when I'm only here for a short time."

Lando hums, turning your words over in his head. You think he may be about to say something else—

"Do you like it here, Lan?"

You're not sure why you ask. No, you are. There's this fantasy that keeps floating around in your head. Little bits of it have been coming true on this trip. Lando standing in the garage with your Dad, talking about project cars and then showing him grease covered parts, explaining where they'll eventually end up. Your Mum roping you, Lando and Oscar into helping her cut vegetables at the kitchen counter. Your younger sisters giving you loaded looks behind Lando's back, you trying to pretend you have no idea what they mean by them. It's a pipedream, it's weird and you need to stop doing it.

But you can't. Sometimes, you look at Lando and your thoughts just pick up and run away with themselves.

Lando nods in answer to your question, "'Course. It's very," he trails off, fingers finding the beads on his bracelet again, he hums, "It's very you. Hm, does that make sense?"

You feel warm all of a sudden. Something creeps up your neck, settles at the base of your skull. You blink a few times, remind yourself to focus on the road.

You skitter out a laugh, an awkward thing, you're trying not to look at him, your hands tight on the wheel, "Yeah— uh— it does. I s'pose."

You lapse into silence for a short while. The sky is eggshell orange and purple and red, stretching out in front of you. Punctuated by the star-brightness of the street lights, terracotta tiled roofs and the shadowed branches of towering Eucalyptus trees. It fills you with a feeling you can't name— there's nothing else quite like it out there. Not in London, not in Monaco, not in any of the many other cities you've traveled to or lived in for a stint.

They're all gorgeous and interesting in their own right, but they don't live up to the special peculiarities of suburban Australia. The flash of a possum's eyes where it's skittering across a powerline. The faint sounds of kookaburras laughing as dusk falls. The glow of families watching TV in living rooms coming through screen doors left unlocked. Old men tinkering in wide open garages. Wheelie bins with red and yellow lids out on the curb— cricket stumps painted on the sides.

It’s special. In the way that home is always special.

Then Lando says, apropos of nothing, “Pretty.”

“Huh.”

He shrugs, gestures around at the neighbourhood, “It’s pretty. Warm too. I can see why your parents live here. Raised you guys here. I can see myself doing that.”

You decide not to tell him about the bipolarity of Melbourne weather. Cold to hot to wet to dry to gusty all in a few hours. You let him enjoy the rare consistent spring day. And you try not think about what he’s saying, what he’s admitting. You try not to think about what you might be admitting, driving him through streets you used to play in, to places you used to go with your family, talking about settling down, like it’s on the horizon anytime soon.

It’s not— you’ve not met anyone to settle down with.

At least you don’t think you have.

It’s certainly not Lando, in the passenger seat of the old family car, fresh off a day of meeting your grandparents for fuckssake and taking a tour of your childhood bedroom. Laughing at your old boyband posters and the teenage girl shrine you’d kept to Niki Lauda. It can’t be Lando, who you turn to when you can’t turn to your brother, who gives you his hoodies when you’re cold even though he’s colder, who’s come on a bloody trip to Australia in his four week break because you’d said you wouldn’t know what to do without him for that long.

It can’t. It’s not.

He’s talking in hypotheticals and you’re getting carried away with yourself again. Like you always do.

listened to this playlist while writing😌

[crownofgildedlilies]

my peaceful nights belong to you

in which: a son of poseidon has himself convinced a daughter of athena doesn’t want to listen to him complain.

pairing: percy jackson x daughter of athena!reader

warnings: angst, my poor percy has been through TOO MUCH

tropes: hurt/comfort, best friends to lovers

word count: 2.1k

a/n: friendly reminder that request r open (esp for headcanons) and bc I have a four hour layover tmrw I will be absolutely active on here. plz enjoy. also, this is inspired by a tiktok I saw that said Percy's trauma is so overlooked. so here's me not overlooking it.

All eyes were on the great Percy Jackson.

Yours were, too, don’t be fooled. You had always found him impossible to look away from. But it wasn’t admiration you were studying him with as tales of his quests were told and retold and embellished around the bonfire. Quests you had been on, each and every time.

No, you were watching him with concern.

Because the son of the sea was drowning in all the attention.

It was almost painful for you to watch, but you couldn't look away.

A beautiful train wreck, you supposed, studying Percy's uncomfortable but obliging conversation with one of the newer sons of Ares who hadn't been around for Kronos or Gaea and simply thought fighting in those wars had been fun.

But people had died. Your people, your friends. It was war, and it was painful, and even though you were the daughter of the war goddess, you hated it with every inch of your being.

No amount of planning on your behalf could have saved Beckendorf. There was no stopping Leo from sacrificing himself.

"That's called being a demigod," Percy had told you one day, offhanded, sometime between nearly dying in a volcanic explosion and being stolen from her by Hera.

"That doesn't mean we have to stand idly by and accept it," You had countered, frowning, and Percy must have realized he'd said something that had upset you, because he had pulled you into a hug and muttered an apology you still hadn't worked out was necessary or not.

But what you did know was that he was your best friend, that you had been in love with him since you were both fourteen, and he absolutely did not want to talk about all his past glories like a good little Greek hero.

Seated on a front-row bench with Grover on on side and an assortment of other campers you knew he wasn't close with surrounding him, you knew you had to run a rescue mission.

Especially since Grover was too distracted by eating his marshmallow roasting stick to realize how tense Percy was as the Ares kid went on and on.

"Perce, there you are." You wedged yourself into the not-entirely open spot next to your best friend, smile on your lips and a sly look in your eyes. Percy's own widened in sight relief, his arm wrapping loosely around your shoulders in a casual movement that was entirely too familiar. "Thought you ran off on me."

"Never," He sighed, some of his tension already dissipating. You grinned a little unevenly at him, not wanting to give the others watching any clues that the great Percy Jackson wasn't completely and utterly alright.

"Good," You bumped him with your shoulder, and he squeezed his arm around you for just a brief moment, tugging you close to his side. You had to turn and face the young Ares boy to keep yourself focused. "How are your archery lessons coming?"

The new camper looked slightly put out about the change in conversation, but you pinned your stare on him and didn't back down. For a moment, you thought he would continue to pester Percy with questions about fighting in two wars, even with you sending up very clear signals that neither of you were interested.

But the boy made the right choice, launching into a rant about how long range combat was not his strength.

Halfway through the story about almost shooting Connor Stoll's foot, you felt Percy lean towards you, his breath warm against the shell of your ear as he dropped his voice to a whisper, meant only for you.

"Thank you,"

Since you had taken half a seat, your body was pressed firmly against his from your ankles to your shoulders. His touch warmed your skin like a sunny day on the beach, and you weren't sure if it was a son of Poseidon thing or a Percy Jackson thing.

So instead of answering him, you set one of your hands on his leg, just above his knee, and squeezed.

The moon was shining over camp when you gave up on finding sleep and decided to sneak out.

You’d been around long enough to know just how to sweet talk Mr. D into letting you be out past curfew, and Chiron had a soft spot for you, since you helped save the world. Twice. It was the harpies catching you that you were afraid of.

Travis Stoll had almost learned the hard way that Mr. D was not kidding about them eating campers.

But children of Athena had passed on the secret to sneaking out through generations, and you were exploiting that very information for a midnight trip to the lake to stargaze there when you spotted movement on the roof of Cabin Three.

Really, you weren't in control of your own actions as you turned swiftly to change course. Maybe it was Tyche with her luck or Aphrodite with her meddling in the affairs of the heart that had you scaling the side of Poseidon's cabin, a path you had taken more than once.

Or maybe, for once, you couldn't blame the gods. Maybe you were the only one making the choices that had you settling on your back beside Percy on the slanted cabin roof.

He hadn't seemed all too surprised to see you, but all he offered in way of greeting was a nod before he returned to studying the sky above.

You only let the silence last for three minutes, a gnawing feeling in the pits of your stomach unable to let it be.

"Do you want to talk about it?" You asked, voiced simultaneously quiet and startlingly loud in the otherwise silent night. With your head turned to watch his side profile, you watched him tumble from his thoughts and back onto that rooftop, with you.

"What?" He was playing coy, you knew him well enough. What you didn't understand was why he was holding back with you, of all people. You, who had been there with him from the night Grover dragged him over Half-Blood Hill. Who had followed him and Grover and Annabeth across the country to save his mom, who fought Luke and Kronos with him, and mourned the loss of so many friends.

You, who hadn't slept for six months when he disappeared, only to find him in New Rome with the claim that he had forgotten everyone and everything but you.

His tether to his life. His best friend. His something more.

"About whatever is bothering you so much tonight." You shot him a flat look, but his was still doing a good job at avoiding your eye. Frowning, you nudged him with your elbow. "I saw you at the bonfire, Perce. Something is eating at you."

For a moment, it was silent. And then Percy drew in a deep breath, like he was readying himself for something, but he still hadn't looked at you.

"I guess I’ve just been thinking about just… everything." He sighed, but you could hear the apprehension and exhaustion in his voice. He was still keeping things back, but you couldn't understand why. And that killed you, as a child of Athena. "I've been fighting since I—we—were twelve. It's too..."

"Too what?" You prompted when he trailed off, his voice dying in the warm night air. Your hand brushed against his on the rooftop between your bodies, and you considered the risks of just grabbing his hand and squeezing to offer comfort while he sorted through his thoughts.

"Forget it." He shook his head, and your heart sunk. "You don’t want to hear me complain."

You frowned, twisting to face the sky and wracking your Athena blessed mind for some way to prove to him that you did, in fact, want to hear it. You wanted to hear anything, ever, that he had to say.

But when words failed you, actions didn’t, and you finally stopped pretending to accidentally brush your pinky against his and just wrapped your hand around his.

You both stayed like that for a while, quiet and thinking, until you turned your head to face him, unsurprised to find a stormy look on his face while he still studied the stars. Maybe he was thinking of Zoë, of all the others the two of you had lost over the years.

But you were thinking about him, only.

"I’ve been fighting with you since you came to camp," Your words were quiet, little more than a summer’s breeze brushing across Percy’s skin, but you knew he heard you. "But maybe now we’re not fighting monsters anymore. Maybe we’re fighting the memories and scars they left behind. But I’m still fighting with you, Percy."

He turned his head, then, his eyes finding yours like they were always meant to. And, deep down, part of you knew they were.

Every shared glance during combat, or after a stupid joke, or when a battle ended and all either of you could do was search the carnage for a hint of the other—those eyes had found you.

"I’m just so scared I’ll never get to live my life.” Percy confessed, voice hauntingly hollow. You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back like a lifeline. “I don’t know if I’m running away from what’s already happened or into the next big mess. And what if next time… what if…"

He trailed off, eyes wide in panic, a bit of desperation. You squeezed his hand again, because you couldn’t give him the words. He needed to find them himself.

Percy screwed his eyes shut and darted forward, slotting his mouth over yours in an unexpected, horribly angled kiss. Teeth clashed together, your bottom lip caught in the mayhem and you gasped at the slight bite of pain.

He jumped back like you had burned him, propped up on one arm as he leaned on his side next to you.

"I, shit, I shouldn’t have—" He fumbled for words, already trying to shuffle further away from you, but you held tight onto his hand to keep him close, sitting up to follow him. "Please, let’s just forget about this, okay? I just, I got caught up in everything and—"

"Tell me you didn’t want to kiss me, then." You promoted, brows knitted together as you studied his face, desperate for a glimpse of how he was feeling revealed to you in the moonlight. "Because if you can’t say it meant nothing to you, you need to tell me, right now."

"I… can’t say it."

And just like that, you were the one kissing him, one hand curving around the back of his neck to keep him close while the other remained threaded through his fingers. His free hand reached up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing against your skin as if he needed confirmation that this was real, that you were real.

When you finally pulled apart to breathe, you didn’t go far. Not from him. Never from him.

"I was worried next time I wouldn’t get the chance to do that." Percy finished his thought from before, a little dazed from the kiss you both had been long awaiting, apparently. You smiled softly and closed your eyes, pressing your forehead against his.

"If you’re running towards the next prophecy, I’ll run with you." You promised, pausing only briefly to shift your position so you and Percy were laying on the roof again, only this time your head was propped on his chest and his arm was wrapped securely around you. "But if you want to sit up here and talk about the monsters you’re running from, I’ll do that, too."

"Thank you." He echoed his words from the earlier bonfire. And you could tell from his voice that he really was thankful. Because as tough as he was, Percy Jackson was still half mortal. "I…" He started, the air thick with tension about what he was going to confess. "I keep having dreams about Tartarus."

You let him talk, devoting your attention and mind to him, tracing shapes and stars and waves against his chest by your head while he spoke.

Time moved quickly that way, with talk of his fears and what weighed heavily on his mind broken up only when his throat would clog with emotion and you would tilt your head up to kiss away the memory long enough for him to regain his composure.

Because no one knew him better than you, and he didn't have to be the great Percy Jackson with you.

He could just be Percy, the boy who was haunted by his past and terrified of his future.

And you would give him all of your peaceful nights for him to have only one.

[lnfours]

* ✰. — supernatural | l.n

summary: this love’s possessing me, but i don’t mind at all ; a new year with the same boy, but in a different way.

warnings: fluff, another friends to lovers!au brought to you by yours truly, based off ‘supernatural’ by ariana grande, pining so damn hard, a hint of language, not proofread bc i can’t sleep and i have this on my mind

masterlist | listen

✧˖°.🪐⋆｡°✩

you weren’t really sure when things changed with lando. how the once platonic touches turned into lingering ones that left a fire burning beneath his fingertips. how quick glances turned into longing stares before the other would notice and a quick shift of vision. everything suddenly meant something.

of course, everyone had put money on it years ago. they all had a gut feeling that at some point, things would come clear to the both of you that you were meant to be all along. how all those past relationships, situationships and failed first dates never worked out because no one could compare. and as always, the two of you would always shut it down. quick to reassure your other friends that if it ever were to happen, it’d ruin a life long friendship which was far more important.

they didn’t want to hear it though. always giving a slight nod, a ‘sure’ or a ‘we’ll see about that’. and boy were they right. they were onto the both of you before you even started. assumptions slowly coming to life as they all watched how the two of you acted around the other all of a sudden. how he’d always have an arm around you, not in a protective way, but in a ‘i need you right here with me’ kind of way. they all noticed how you never backed away, how you’d simply melt into him as the night progressed. your head leaning back on his shoulder as you talked. or how you would slip a hand around his back, occasionally drawing shapes onto the thin material of his shirts. a simple giveaway to them about something you didn’t even know was happening yet.

but now it was new years, the house party buzzing with people and music and everything in between. a celebration of the end of another year and into a new one with new beginnings. manifestations of good things in the air as the music played through the speakers of the house.

you were sat on the couch, drink in hand as you laughed with some of your mutual friends. lando couldn’t help but keep glancing over at you, eyes dancing over the way your eyes sparkled in the dim lighting. how your eyes creased when you laughed and smiled, how suddenly you were all he could see in a room full of people.

“mate,” max’s voice brought him back to earth, “did you hear what i said or were you too busy eye-fucking y/n?”

lando turned to his best friend, eyebrows pulled together, “what?”

he was trying not to get defensive. trying so hard not to tell his best friend that he wasn’t eye-fucking you, but rather looking over at you lovingly. looking at you as his heart went a mile a minute, scanning over all the features of your face for the millionth time, but all of a sudden taking this time, right here, right now, to try to memorize it. memorize everything little thing that made you perfect to him.

“c’mon, mate,” max sighed, almost as if he was tired of the same story, “you’ve been staring at her for the past five minutes. when are you going to go tell her you love her?”

lando swallowed the sip of his drink, rolling his eyes at his friend, “i don’t know what you’re on about.”

“please,” pietra joined the conversation now, arm linked on max’s, “you’re a terrible liar. you both are.”

he looked at the blonde with curiosity in his eyes. you both are? what was that supposed to mean? could it be-

he was about to ask before she spoke, “listen, you’re both single. clearly you’re into each other, just go talk to her!”

and with that, the couple was gone. off to join the circle of people in the living room who were counting down to midnight. he looked at the time on his phone, twenty minutes to the new year. to the new chapter he had desperately been craving.

he took another sip of his drink before he felt a hand on his shoulder, a soft ‘excuse me’ echoing in his ears. he looked up, a smile on your face as you squeezed past the person next to him to stand beside lando. he was quick to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him in the crowded area.

you smiled, tucking a strand of hair from your face, with your free hand as the other wrapped around his neck, “hey,”

“hey,” he smiled right back at you, “feeling okay?”

you nodded, “i am now, yeah.”

oh if his heart wasn’t already flying out of his chest, it sure was now. your smile alone could send him over the moon. your fingers absentmindedly reaching towards the curls at the nape of his neck, twisting them lightly between your fingers. you loved when he kept his hair a little longer than normal so you could do this.

little did you know, he kept it a little longer just for you to do it.

“want something to drink? i can go grab you something,”

you shook your head, “i’m okay, thank you,”

he nodded back at you, “so, find your new years kiss yet?”

you scrunched your nose, looking around the house, “have you seen the people here? i don’t think i’ll have much luck. you?”

he shrugged, “haven’t had much luck either, but i also haven’t even really been looking.”

you laughed softly, “you haven’t?”

he shook his head, looking past you to look at the clock. ten minutes.

“i mean,” he started, “there’s one girl but i don’t know if she’s into me.”

you raised an eyebrow, trying not to let your face fall as your heart went to your feet, “well, what’s she look like?”

he swallowed a sip from his drink, “she’s gorgeous, even when she thinks she isn’t, she is. she’s really smart, possibly the smartest in the room right now. and she likes to go out, but she’d much rather curl up on the couch and put a movie on or read a book or something. and she keeps me in line, knows when to bring my ego back to earth.”

you smiled softly, “she sounds great.”

“she is,” he scanned your facial features, “she’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”

you sucked in a breath, “is she here?”

“yeah,” he smiled softly, “she’s right in front of me.”

suddenly the world stopped. it felt like time stood still as you stood in front of him. it was like you two were the only ones in the room.

“lando,” you breathed out, unsure of what to say. every birthday wish, every shooting star, you had used for this very moment. and now it was unfolding in front of you, and nothing has made you feel so many things at once quite like this has.

five minutes to the new year.

he smiled back at you, the toothy grin you had learned to fall in love with no matter how much he picked it apart whenever he would take pictures. you loved the little gap between his teeth, the way the moles and freckles charted his skin like constellations. constellations just for you. it was right here in this moment that everything everyone has ever said started to make you realize it has been him all along.

“i know it’s scary and new and every thing we always thought was something that was going to ruin our friendship,” he said, “but i can’t help it. i’m falling in love with you.”

the people around you started counting down, “59, 58, 57…”

“i’m falling in love with you, too,” you said, eyes scanning over his, green with specks of blue and oh so pretty, “i’ve been in love with you since the moment we met.”

he stood now, pulling you closer to him. 30, 29, 28…

“i want this,” he said, “i want you. i always have, and im sorry it took me this long to finally admit it.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck as his snaked around your middle. he was holding you as close as possible, and although it wasn’t a new experience to be this close, to take in the smell of his cologne, the smell of his shampoo and the cream he used to style his stupidly perfect curls. it wasn’t new to experience everything that made him ten times more irresistible, but right now, your heart was about to fly out of your chest at the feeling of him being this close before. a step into uncharted territory and you were growing impatient by the second. wanting nothing more than to just call him yours already. to let the world know that he was yours and yours only. to let your friends know that they were right all along, ready to hear the ‘i told you so’s as long as it kept him right here.

“i’m sorry, too.” you said. and you meant it. you had wished this had happened sooner, you couldn’t help but wonder that if it had, where you two would be now. what your little life would’ve looked like right about now.

with ten seconds left on the clock, he smiled and mumbled to you softly, “be my new years kiss,”

you smiled back at the curly haired boy you’ve loved your whole life, “i wouldn’t want you to kiss anyone else.”

five, four, three, two, one…

there were yells of celebration in the air, the echo of the fireworks on the tv. everyone either toasting to the new years or ringing in a new year with their loved by celebrating with a kiss. but you paid no mind to any of it, to any of the noise circling around you as you took in the way his lips slotted against yours. how his lips tasted like the cherry lip balm you had lent him earlier on in the night with a hint of the whiskey he had been nursing. his hands holding you in place in front of him, yours wrapping around his neck as he took it a step further and licked against your bottom lip.

everything about it sent butterflies straight to your stomach because after all this time, all the dreaming about this moment, it finally happened. you two had managed to crack, let down the facade. and truthfully, it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders and it made you question why neither of you came clean sooner.

his nose pressed against yours and you laughed softly, meeting his eyes. he was smiling back at you, wrapping a strand of your hair around his finger before slotting it back behind your ear.

he licked his lips, the both of you basking in each other after years and years of pining, “wanna get out of here?”

“please,” you sighed, and with that he led you through the crowd around you. led you to the door of the house party, nodding and bidding his few goodbyes before heading out. you held onto his arm the whole way, until he was unlocking the doors to the mclaren parked down the street. he opened the door for you, just like he always had, and you slid in. this time as he closed the door, you couldn’t help but notice the shift of energy. the way everything was unfolding was nothing less than exciting.

he climbed in on the drivers side, starting the car before slotting his hand with yours.

“mine or yours?”

you shrugged, looking over at him with a smile, “doesn’t matter,”

he nodded, pressing your hand to his lips as he pulled away from the curb. and really, it didn’t matter to you. because you would follow him anywhere. even to the ends of the earth and back.

which, of course he knew that. because he’d do the same for you.

[alyswritings]

love that you write for jj!! could you maybe do a jj x sister fic where his sister is on the younger side (8-10? idk) and gets scared of him when he gets too rambunctious when he’s drunk bc it reminds her of their dad!! thank you xxx

The pogues were throwing a small party at the chateau, drunk teenagers all out in the yard. Y/N had been instructed to not leave the room and keep the door locked. She had managed to fall asleep to a movie, but the music and teenagers just got louder, waking her up from her slumber.

Y/N keeps a tight hold on the stuffed animal pressed to her chest as she watches them party outside.

After a while, Y/N tries to go back to sleep, but fails to do so, all the noise only seeming to get louder.

Y/N huffs, staring at the door in thought. She decides to go against her brother's orders and unlocks the door, walking to the back door. She tightly hugs her stuffed animal to her chest, walking outside.

Y/N spots her brother and goes out into the yard, starting to make her way over to him. She watches JJ chug a beer, letting out a yell once he finishes, the boy grinning.

"Let's go, baby!" JJ shouts, stumbling and losing his balance. He laughs as he clumsily gets up.

Y/N frowns, watching him loudly talk over the music to the other people.

"Y/N?" She turns to the voice, watching Pope walk over to her. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

"I can't sleep." She says, frowning.

"Okay. You want me to get JJ?" Pope asks.

Y/N looks over at where her brother is, watching him shotgun a beer and yell in accomplishment once he finishes it.

Y/N goes to answer, but the two are interrupted by a familiar voice.

"Y/N/N!" JJ cheers, making his way over. "Hey, baby, what's up?" He grins, ruffling her hair. Y/N curls into herself, not liking how alcohol reeks off of him. "What you doing out here, kid?"

"No." The girl shakes her head, latching onto Pope.

JJ frowns in confusion as Pope picks her up.

"Y/N." JJ touches her back, but she whines and blindly swats at him to get him away. His frown deepens and he looks at Pope who helplessly shrugs.

Pope carries her back inside, going back to the bedroom. He locks the door and goes over to the window, shutting the blinds.

"Did the party wake you up?" Pope asks, setting her on the bed.

"Mm-hmm." Y/N nods, lying down.

Pope tucks her in, turning a nightlight on.

"Is JJ okay?" She asks.

"Yeah. Yeah, he's okay. Why?" Pope asks.

"He's louder than usual." Y/N sighs. "And he keeps stumbling and tripping."

"Yeah. Yeah, no, he's fine. He just... he's had a lot to drink. He's fine, though." Pope promises.

"I don't like him drunk." Y/N says. "He reminds me of dad." She frowns.

Pope sighs, rubbing her arm.

"He's not like your dad." Pope assures. "He wouldn't ever hurt you."

"Maybe not on purpose." Y/N mumbles. "He's just too loud. It's scary."

"Trust me, drunk or sober, JJ's never doing anything to put you in any harm." Pope tells her.

Pope puts a movie on for her and leaves. He looks up, noticing JJ leaning against the opposite wall.

"Dude..." Pope starts.

"No. No, nah, it-- it's fine." JJ dismisses. "I'm just... I'm gonna hang out in here for a bit."

"Okay." Pope nods, leaving.

JJ sighs, staring at the closed door. He wants to go in and talk to his sister, having overheard her conversation with Pope, but knows right now is a terrible time.

So he settles for just sitting outside the room with a bottle of water to sober up.

---

The next day, Kie helps Y/N get ready and gets her some cereal, the girl sitting at the table while she eats. The boys are all outside, getting the supplies for fishing and packing the boat up.

JJ goes inside to find snacks. He notices his sister at the table and motions to Kie. The teen girl nods and goes outside, leaving the two siblings.

"Hey, kiddo." JJ greets, sitting next to her. "Cocoa Puffs?" He nods to the bowl and she nods. "Nice." He comments. Y/N just nods, continuing to eat.

"So, um... what were you doing outside last night?" JJ asks.

"I couldn't sleep. It was too loud." Y/N says.

"Right. Yeah, sorry." JJ apologizes. "But, um, a-about the-- you just wanting Pope. I, um... I might've heard you and Pope talkin' last night."

Y/N sighs, looking up at him.

"I don't like when you're drunk." Y/N says. "It reminds me of dad."

JJ's chest tightens at her words, the pain hitting him 100 times harder now that he's sober.

"Y/N/N..." JJ leans down so he's closer to her line of sight. "I would never hurt you, no matter what."

"You're really loud when you're drunk." Y/N says. "That's the big reason."

"I'm sorry, Y/N." JJ frowns. "Hey." He puts his hand on her head and makes her look at him. "I promise, I won't drink in front of you ever again, okay? You're not comfortable with it, it won't happen."

"Really?" Y/N asks.

"Really." JJ nods, holding his pinky out to her. Y/N wraps her pinky around his. "We okay?"

Y/N nods, getting up and hugging JJ. He tightly holds her, rubbing her back.

"One more thing." JJ gently pushes her away a bit. "I know it's really confusing why dad does what he does to us. At your age, at my age, at any age. But, I swear on my life, I will never hit you."

Y/N nods, smiling at him. JJ kisses her on the forehead, pulling her back into another hug.

[sanarsi]

Date with a Rockstar

rockstar!Frankie Morales x f!Reader

Part 1 of Sex, Drugs and Rock’n’Roll Series

Summary: Frankie finally manages to invite you for a drink. Unfortunately, things go wrong and he ends up in jail. Warnings: +18, MDNI, protected PIV (implant), pussy eating (no one’s surprised, king will always be king), semi-public sex, car sex (on top! woah), creampie, soft!dom!Frankie, fight, blood, being arrested, mention of attempted rape, use of date rape drug (not by our sweet boy duh) Wordcount: 6,5k An: Without lying to anyone, I have to admit that Frankie is my personal favorite. He's just so gentle and sweet ughhh where's my Frankie :’( Anyway, I hope you like this version of him bc I really enjoyed this one! Music I worked with: Arabella - Arctic Monkeys

Masterlist

You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time. Today you tried harder than usual. You were desperate to finally catch attention of the sexy bassist, who kept sending you glances.

You were desperate enough to put on one of the shortest dresses you had in your closet. You were desperate enough to put on lipstick that had been lying forgotten in your bag for months. You were desperate enough, that your gaze pierced through even your own reflection.

You looked good.

More than just good. You looked sexy.

Sexy enough that when you walked towards the bar, everyone gave you a slightly too long looks. It was a good feeling. Every glance, tickled your ego more and more, making you feel confident.

The clatter of your heels was your only anchor the moment you entered the crowded bar, and the melancholic aura hit all your senses at a dizzying pace. You had already gotten used to the atmosphere that reigned here. The stuffiness, loud music and barely functioning lighting. With time, you could even admit that you liked being here. It was a nice break from your rigid reality.

Here, no one knew you. None of your friends even knew about this place. No wonder, you came here especially from the other end of town.

You came especially for him.

A slightly withdrawn, sweet bassist with big puppy eyes, who played with his band every Thursday.

You immediately headed towards the bar, glancing at the band that was currently entertaining the small crowd. You winced at the squeaky voice of the vocalist and quickly moved to the other end of the room.

The bartender gave you a quick glance, smiling immediately when he saw the familiar face. You smiled back and, avoiding a collision with the slightly tipsy guy, stood at the bar, leaning against the counter.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you here today,” he asked casually, preparing a drink at the same time. You shrugged, watching as he skillfully mixed everything in the shaker.

Al, because that was his name, was the only one who kept you company during your weekly visits. You could say that you became somewhat friends. He was nice, funny and scared away the pests that sometimes hung around you.

“I thought you got to know me a little by now, Al,” you teased with a smirk. You both focused your attention on the drink he handed to some woman, after which he began pouring beer into two mugs.

“Oh yeah,” he snorted in amusement. “You couldn’t miss your Romeo’s concert,” he began, teasing you. You laughed, shaking your head and glanced towards the stage before focusing your attention on him again.

“Quite a lot of traffic,” you said to start a casual conversation. The man immediately perked up, snorting under his breath and mumbling a quiet ‘yeah’ before handing you a glass of cola. He had learned that trying to talk you into a drink never brought the desired result. You thanked him quietly and took a sip.

"They've been coming here like pigs to a barn since morning." You snorted, almost spitting out your drink, starting to choke, to which he just gave you an amused look. "It's Thursday, for fuck's sake. People don't go to work on Fridays or something?" he continued, serving another customer.

He gave a forced smile to the girl who gave him the tip, winking flirtatiously. All she had to do was turn her back to him, and he immediately rolled his eyes in boredom. He looked at you tiredly and finally had a moment to breathe. He reached for the drink hidden under the counter and took a large sip with relief. "These cunts have been after me since morning, too," he muttered, looking around the room.

"Oh stop it, they're just nice."

"Horny," he corrected you, raising his eyebrows when he returned his gaze to you. You nodded, taking another sip.

"True," you said, "but you can't blame them. You don't look like you're on the other side of the force," you explained, pointing at him with your hand. He looked at you with amusement and then snorted.

"Is that what it's called now? The other side of the force?" he asked, pushing himself away from the counter. “God, I really am getting old,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head with a wide smile, and began serving the next customer.

You turned around, leaning your back against the counter and began to watch the people dancing. It amused you that some people could dance to such crappy music. No offense, the new band that had been playing here for a week just sucked really bad.

"They're bad, aren't they?" A male voice rang out from near you.

You glanced to the side and almost had a heart attack when you saw the man you came here for. Your heart started beating so fast that you almost choked on air.

He was standing, leaning against the counter, maybe a meter away from you, watching the band with the same amusement as you had just a moment ago.

A mug of beer occupied his hand as his fingers slowly ran over the wet glass. You swallowed hard, observing his profile. Slightly disheveled hair under a baseball cap, an aquiline nose and a strong jaw covered with stubble.

Fuck, he was so damn handsome.

Your silence made him look at you and he slowly took a drink of beer. Dark eyes shone like two lanterns in the middle of the ocean. But they couldn't save you from drowning in his gaze. He licked his lips from the hop aftertaste and took a step towards you. You tried to breathe as quietly as possible because you had the impression that you started to pant at the sight of the sweet smile that appeared on his lips.

"Frankie Morales," he introduced himself, extending his hand towards you.

"I know."

Silence fell between you.

You stared at him, not even being aware of what you had just said. Only when he raised an eyebrow in amusement, gave you a sobering slap on the cheek. You closed your eyes, sighing in embarrassment at your behavior.

"I mean-" you started, wanting to somehow get out of the uncomfortable situation you had put yourself in. But his quiet laugh immediately made you fall silent, looking at him as if enchanted. He had a damn charming laugh.

"No, it's okay, I understand," he said, relaxing the whole atmosphere in a second.

Your stomach clenched pleasantly when you finally smiled gently and gave him your hand, introducing yourself. And maybe you were going crazy, but his hand held yours much longer than the situation required. Where he touched you, he left a trail of shivers that stirred your blood to such a state, that you immediately had to drink to cool yourself down.

Frankie leaned against the counter next to you, watching your every move, especially the way your lips formed against the glass, leaving a trace of lipstick behind.

"So..." he began slowly, deep down pleased by your reaction. "I see you here often. You come every Thursday, right?" he asked, wanting to start a conversation.

You nodded, setting the glass down and licking your wet lips. "Yeah."

His smirk only widened. He glanced at the bartender who was sending you not-so-subtle glances.

"I guess not to listen to them." He nodded towards the stage received an amused snort from you in response. He smiled, revealing his teeth as you looked at him with a furrowed brow and a sweet smile.

"No."

"I thought so," he laughed quietly and took a sip of his beer.

This was your chance.

You were finally talking to him.

You could finally show him that you were interested.

"Actually, I'm coming for your band," you said, looking towards the stage to calm the feeling of stress that was starting to grow unwanted in your chest.

"Yeah?" he asked, and for the first time, his gaze traveled down your body. He subtly lingered longer on your exposed thighs and he immediately felt saliva welling up in his mouth.

"Mhm," you hummed, nodding. You looked at him the moment he tore his gaze away from your body and felt a wave of heat as you realized you had his attention.

You knew your slutty dress would do the trick.

"Then you're missing out." You fell silent, staring at him incredulously. You mumbled a quiet, ‘huh’, as he took a sip of beer instead of immediately explaining what he meant. "We're much better at rehearsals."

"Rehearsals?" you frowned, still not understanding what he was talking about.

Did they have any rehearsals that you didn't know about? Did they play on different days? Al would have told you, right?

"Yeah, in the guys' garage, we get carried away more," he explained. But that only caused more confusion. Frankie saw it immediately and straightened up, quickly continuing.

There was no way he had become so hopeless at flirting.

"I mean," he snorted nervously and scratched the back of his neck. "That you should see it. If you're coming here for us, then you should witness a real show." He felt the stress starting to eat him up from the inside.

Why was he even nervous? He was good at it. He never had a problem with flirting.

The only problem was that this time his intention wasn't just to get you into bed.

"Sure," you smiled brightly, and a heavy weight immediately fell from his heart. He sighed with relief and whispered quietly, ‘cool’.

The sight of him like that, gave you a flock of butterflies in your stomach. He was just as stressed as you were, which gave you a strange sense of security. Suddenly it wasn't awkward anymore. You just stood there looking at each other with smiles, feeling the flow of warmth between your bodies.

“Shall I give you my number?” you suggested, raising an eyebrow as he continued to stand there without a word. Your question snapped him out of his suspended animation.

“Oh. Yes, please,” he nodded eagerly, to which you giggled quietly and looked away, searching for Al. Your attention focused on him, immediately drawing him like a magnet.

It wasn’t like he had been watching you from the very beginning, just waiting for some sign that you needed him.

“Do you have a piece of paper and a pen?” you asked, and you didn’t have to say anything more. He started rummaging under the counter and in a few seconds he put everything you asked for in front of you. You smiled gratefully, to which he winked at you and left.

“You’ve become friends in these two months,” Frankie noticed, watching you write down a series of numbers on a small, pink piece of paper.

“Yes, he’s a sweetheart,” you nodded, writing down the last two numbers, but before you lifted the pen from the paper, you felt waves of shivers. Two months.

He knew since you started coming here. He’d been watching you from the very beginning.

Your heart sped up as, without giving anything away, you folded the piece of paper and held it out to him.

“Thanks.” He smiled and took the note, deliberately touching your fingers. Such a small gesture caused a powerful wave of electricity that went straight between your thighs. You held back a moan and sighed quietly instead.

Applause echoed through the bar, so you both looked towards the stage, where the band was just leaving. You both knew what that meant.

“Hey, listen…” Frankie began, feeling a surge of adrenaline. He had to hurry to get to the stage on time. “Would you like to grab a drink after our set?” he asked much more confidently.

“With you?” You smiled wider, feeling like you had won the lottery. Your reaction was everything he could have wanted.

“Yeah I…” he trailed off and glanced towards the stage, where his friends were starting to line up. Pope’s gaze met his, signaling him to hurry up. “You know… I don’t really like sharing,” he finished, glancing at your smiling face. You looked cute. He regretted that he had no time to talk to you longer, but he sincerely hoped that everything would go his way and he could enjoy you later. And your gaze clearly told him that you would gladly let him enjoy you, not just over a drink.

“Okay,” you nodded, biting your lip, which didn’t go unnoticed by him. And it certainly didn’t go unnoticed by his dick.

Fuck, he regretted that he had to go on stage right now.

“Okay,” he repeated, holding your gaze until the sound of a microphone being set up echoed through the room. “I have to go,” he said, as if it wasn’t obvious enough for both of you.

You laughed sweetly at the energy that bubbling inside him. “Okay,” you nodded again.

“Okay,” he replied with a smile, starting to walk backwards towards the stage. You watched with amusement as people moved out of his way so he wouldn’t step on them, until he disappeared into the crowd, only to jump on stage a moment later. You snorted at the sight and took a sip of your cola.

“I thought he’d never dare to approach you,” Al said from behind you. You looked at him with a satisfied smile.

“The dress worked,” was all you said before the sound of guitar and drums echoed through the bar.

The concert had been going on for an hour, gathering more and more people under the stage. The later hour meant more and more customers. Al was busy, fulfilling several orders at once, so you were forced into the company of some guy who wouldn't leave you alone. Bored, you listened as he talked about his vacation in Asia, glancing at Frankie every now and then.

You saw the sweat glistening on his forehead as he watched his fingers play the strings. Every now and then his gaze would meet yours, and the smile he gave you would make you feel warmer and warmer. Only because of that, were you able to endure the company of a self-absorbed idiot, who thought that talking about how rich he was would somehow impress you. You were allergic to poseurs, and he was like a living example from the textbook „HOW TO AVOID LOSERS”.

Frankie had just started playing a solo, so you couldn't tear your eyes away from him, even if you wanted to. The voice of the man next to you stopped reaching your ears the moment the sounds of the bass guitar cut through the space.

You loved watching how devoted Frankie played. You could watch him for hours. Just like he could you.

That's what he did.

And that's why his heart beat faster when he saw something and that probably saved your life.

His smile disappeared and his fingers stopped plucking the strings. You frowned at his strange behavior. He looked in your direction, but his gaze was absent. But you quickly got answers to your unasked questions.

Frankie handed the guitar to Pope, not even looking to see if he aimed for his hand. People squealed in surprise when he jumped off the stage and began pushing through the crowd. Your heart beat faster when you saw him walking towards you. But his gaze was... different. He was furious. You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling a sudden wave of stress.

He was furious.

But why would he-

Then everything happened too fast for you to react.

Frankie walked past without even looking at you and clenched his fists on the guy's shirt. You jumped on the spot as he pulled him towards himself and threw him to the ground. The poser, whose name you couldn't even remember, was in as much shock as you were, so he didn't even have time to start defending himself as Frankie sat on him, pinning him to the ground with his weight. And then the first punch fell.

His fist connected with the guy's cheek, making him groan in pain. You covered your mouth with your hand, looking at everything in shock, and jumped on the spot as another punch split his lip and his blood appeared on the floor. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched Frankie ruthlessly deliver punch after punch. The guy underneath him, groaning in pain, spitting out another portion of blood. People gathered around, watching the spectacle, having a great time.

And you were terrified. You were shaking inside, paralyzed with fear.

Another punch.

His fist was bloody and furiously red from the force with which he punched his opponent's face. And when you gathered the courage to speak up and try to stop it all, his snarl froze you.

"She wasn't interested so you decided to rape her?"

You immediately looked at your glass and noticed in shock that at the bottom, there was something that was slowly dissolving. Cold sweat poured over your body as you realized what you were the victim of.

A rape pill.

"Fuckin’ son of a bitch," Frankie growled, and when you looked at him again, you saw him wiping blood from his lip, which was now cut. The almost unconscious guy had somehow managed to land one punch. But that was all he did.

It was his face that was all blue and bloody. He was the one lying there, barely breathing.

“Frankie,” you whispered in a trembling voice. And despite the chaos around you, he heard you without a problem. He looked at you, breathing heavily, his fist stopped halfway to deliver another punch.

The guy under him coughed, choking on blood, and suddenly three policemen appeared out of nowhere. People in a panic cleared a path for them to get to the very center of the action. And then Frankie was the one lying on the ground, crushed by a cop’s knee. He winced at the unnecessary force they used to overpower him, because he had surrendered without any resistance. Two policemen were collecting what was left of the beaten man from the ground, and the third was handcuffing Frankie. Only that sound tore you out of your stupor.

You watched as the policeman, not very gently, pulled him up and yanked him when he heard his groan of dissatisfaction. With your heart in your throat, you approached them. You were terrified by the whole situation and Frankie noticed it right away. He gave you a smirk and a wink to calm you down.

But that only made the policeman more nervous, so he jerked him again.

"You're happy by the fact that you kicked some guy's ass?" he growled with venom, to which he only smiled wider and licked the cut on his lip. His gaze didn't leave your eyes for a moment; big, shiny eyes that looked at him with confusion.

"I would have killed him if you hadn't stopped me," he replied confidently. You didn't want to believe it, but the seriousness with which he said it exerted the opposite emotions in you.

"We'll see if you're so brave at the police station." And he jerked him again, this time heading towards the exit of the bar.

"Where are you taking him?" you asked loudly, drawing the cop's attention. He glanced at you and his gaze raked down your body with disapproval. Son of a bitch. “I have a right to know, I’m his fiancée,” you added, lifting your chin higher.

Frankie looked at you with amusement and pride. You were so damn sexy when you acted like that.

The cop looked skeptically from you to your fiancé and rolled his eyes. “State police,” he said casually and that was all you saw of him.

Frankie disappeared, and right after him, the whole band. They didn’t seem too bothered as they mumbled the words, ’we need to get him out again’. Again.

Then there were only formalities. You sat on a bar stool answering more questions from one of the policemen. The footage from the cameras and your statements gave the green light to a possible quick bailout of Frankie from custody.

You felt extremely guilty about what had happened, so when you heard the words, ’That’s it. If we have more questions, we’ll contact you’, you almost ran out of the bar.

You probably broke most of the traffic laws when you drove towards the state police station, but it was late, so the streets were almost empty. Luckily, you didn't kill anyone on the way and you made it in one piece.

Apart from your heart beating too fast and your thoughts racing, you were in quite great shape.

You got out of the car and ran towards the police station as fast as your heels would allow you. However, you quickly stopped halfway when you heard loud laughter, which after a moment became faces.

The whole band was just leaving the building, talking loudly with wide smiles on their faces. Everyone was in great spirits, including Frankie. He laughed like a child when he got another punch in the ribs and another warning that next time he'd be behind bars all night.

Pope noticed you first and his smile turned into a smirk as he looked at Frankie and whistled in appreciation.

"For a chick like this, even I would go to jail," he commented, which caught the attention of the rest of the men.

Everyone started looking around until they finally landed on you. Each of them looked down your body and Ben was the only one to nod with cessation, for which he got a punch in the stomach from his brother.

"What?" he groaned but in response he only got a warning look.

You tensed, feeling everyone's eyes on you but then Frankie looked over Ben's shoulder, your attention immediately focused only on him. Shock flew across his face at the sight of you but he quickly smiled and pushed through them. You noticed how everyone exchanged knowing glances with each other, then Tom patted him on the shoulder.

"We’ll leave you here," he said then smiled pleasantly in your direction. You watched as everyone started to walk away, with stupid smiles on their faces.

"Thanks guys!" Frankie shouted but didn't even look in their direction. Only you were able to see Pope wave at him, also not looking at him. You raised an eyebrow with a smile, watching this comical situation but when your gaze fell on the man in front of you again, you became a little more serious.

Stress clenched your stomach as all the events that had happened in such a short time started to come back to you. You swallowed the lump in your throat seeing him take a step towards you.

"I'm sorry for what happened," you blurted out in one breath, making him stop halfway into the next step. He frowned and only then did he notice how stressed you were.

"You have nothing to apologize to me for. It wasn't your fault that some motherfucker slipped some shit into your drink," he said seriously and you felt waves of cold shivers again. It was only when he said it, that it started to dawn on you how you could have ended up if it wasn't for him.

“You ended up in jail because of me,” you added, still feeling guilty.

Frankie snorted under his breath and spread his hands, looking around.

"As you can see, I'm not in it anymore," he noticed, which managed to make you smile a little.

Half the battle.

He slowly walked closer to you with a gentle smile and a tender look. Your heart began to beat faster when he stopped in front of you. Your gaze immediately fell on the cut on his lip and in a rush of something strange, you raised your hand and gently touched the small wound. Electricity passed under your fingertips from the contact with his heated skin.

"Then I apologize for this," you said and his lips formed a smile under your fingers. You immediately looked up at his eyes, which sparkled with amusement.

"I was only defending my fiancée." The tone he spoke with sent butterflies flying through your stomach. You snorted sweetly under your breath and looked down, causing his smile to widen.

With that one sentence, all the tension and stress melted away into thin air.

“Oh, right,” you nodded, more to yourself than to him, and pulled your fingers away from his lips. “Thank you,” you said politely, and then his hand closed around your wrist, trapping yours a few inches from his face. You inhaled louder, feeling his fingers grip your skin.

He gently but firmly pulled you closer, placing your hand on the back of his neck. You gave in to his movements, wanting to see where this was all leading.

"I guess that's not how you should thank your fiancé," he noted with a smirk and slowly put his arm around your waist and connected your bodies in one movement.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as if you had at least run a marathon. Standing in his arms, you couldn't focus on anything. Your gaze was so damn innocent that Frankie automatically hugged you a little tighter, wanting to protect you from everything around. But now the only thing he could protect you from, was himself.

"The policemen who are watching, are definitely not convinced by our love," he teased with a glint in his eye. You shivered, unconsciously digging your fingers into his neck and glanced towards the police station. You ran your gaze over all the windows, but it was dark everywhere.

“But no one’s looking,” you whispered, as if someone could hear you, and looked at him again. And you almost moaned when he leaned in a little closer to you.

“But someone’s could,” he whispered as well.

You immediately understood what was hidden behind his words and even though you tried, you couldn't stop the smile that spread across your lips.

"Right," you nodded and lifted your other hand, placing it on his cheek the moment he leaned down to connect your lips. You purred feeling his stubble tickle your skin and with a giggle you let his tongue connect with yours. He tasted so damn good and was so gentle that you quickly felt the arousal building between your thighs.

His hands slowly ran over your back and waist, which made you moan softly. And your moan made him sigh before he pressed you harder against his chest. His fingers dug pleasantly into your skin until your blood started to boil.

You slid your fingers into his locks that were tangled on his neck and gently ran your nails over his scalp. This time he moaned softly and deepened the kiss even more. His tongue was in perfect sync with yours, not even trying to dominate you for a moment. It was a completely new feeling and you had to admit, that you fuckin’ loved it.

“So what about that drink?” you asked when he pulled away from you for a moment to catch his breath. You bit your lip with a gentle smile and slowly ran your nails down the back of his neck and Frankie had to admit that he was already having trouble standing when his cock began to painfully dig into his jeans.

He pursed his lips, holding back a groan and nodded eagerly at your offer and he was able to hold out if you wanted to have a drink with him. He was able to wait until you gave him a sign that you wanted to go further.

But then you started walking towards your car, gyrating your hips in front of his face.

A quiet growl escaped his throat as he looked helplessly at the sky, mentally counting to ten to calm down. Only then did he look at you again and damn it, it didn’t work.

He quickly covered the distance between you, calling your name. You managed to unlock the car with the remote before you looked in his direction and his lips immediately attacked yours. You gasped in surprise but gave in without resistance as he forced his tongue into your mouth. His fingers tangled in your hair, holding you against him as he slowly moved forward, pushing you back until you hit the hood of your car. When he pinned you with hips, his hands immediately found their way to your waist, his fingers gripping your flesh tightly. Another moan died in his mouth as you tried to return his kisses with the same fervor.

"I'm sorry," he sighed against your lips, sliding his hands down to your bare thighs and clenching them perfectly under your ass. You shivered, digging your nails into his shoulder. "I don't usually start like this," he said, trying to somehow excuse his behaviour, his lack of restraint, right outside the doors of the police station. You moaned into his mouth as he massaged your thighs intensely, getting closer and closer to their core.

"Me neither," you gasped and then both of you locked eyes.

And you both knew what a fucking bad idea had flown through your heads.

And both of you seemed completely unconcerned about the consequences the moment your lips connected again and his fingers hurriedly began to pull up your dress.

You were acting like stupid teenagers but suddenly it didn't matter. All that mattered now was that he was spreading your thighs with his knee so he could be even closer. And when his hips brushed against yours, you felt how hard he was, how much he wanted to get out of his tight pants because of you. And you'd be lying if you said you didn't leak at the thought of him entering you.

Frankie gasped, grinding against you once more before he pulled away, leaving you breathless. You moaned at the sudden feeling of losing his soft lips on yours, but it quickly passed the moment you saw him kneeling in front of you. You shivered at the sight of his head between your legs and whimpered impatiently. His warm breath fanned your pubic but his lips found their way to your hip. You closed your eyes and gasped at the pleasant waves of warmth that began to spread through your body, from every place he kissed.

He slid from hip to your thigh and his warm tongue combined with his scratching beard were already taking you to the heights of pleasure. Oh, it had definitely been too long since anyone had touched you. Or maybe it was Frankie who had such an effect on you.

You didn't have a moment to think about it because you felt his fingers gently hook your panties, pushing them aside. You inhaled louder and looked down with your lips parted. He leaned down, pressing the tip of his nose between your slit and shamelessly inhaled your scent. He groaned, bringing you to a state you had never been in before so quickly.

"You smell amazing, baby," he purred, tightening his fingers on your thighs and without warning, he plunged his tongue into your leaking hole. You moaned loudly, looking down at him and your hand tangled itself in his hair.

Frankie slowly ran his tongue between your lips, tasting all the excitement that had managed to escape from you. He purred as if he was eating his favorite dessert. You tightened your fingers in his hair, feeling how every movement of his delicate tongue brought you closer and closer to the heights of pleasure.

"Frankie," you gasped loudly and in response you only received a quiet purr and his tongue on your clit. A broken moan escaped you before you started to breathe heavily because he simply started making out with her.

He sank into your pussy and didn't want to break away even for a second. Like a thirsty man, he circled your sweet spot, licked up your juices, and kissed you. Passionately and deeply, until your knees began to shake.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," you moaned squeaky, pulling his head closer to your temple. You started to gasp for air, chasing your orgasm that was inexorably approaching with every movement of his tongue. Until finally, you felt a wave of fulfillment pass through your body. You held his hair tightly, not letting him move as he continued to guide you through your orgasm. Broken moans echoed around as your clit throbbed under his tongue.

You swallowed hard and loosened your grip on his hair, which immediately allowed him to lick everything that flowed out of you. You moaned as you felt his tongue gently plunge into your throbbing hole. A quiet curse escaped your lips as you calmed your breathing, looking at the starry sky.

"Tell me you're on some kind of pills because I don't know if I have any condoms with me," he gasped, suddenly appearing in front of you.

His lips glistened with your juices and you couldn't resist pulling him to you by his shirt to kiss him hard. You were so fucking grateful for the wonderful orgasm he gave you, you couldn't put it into words. So you just let yourself kiss him passionately, hugging his neck tightly. He didn't resist, in fact, he willingly leaned closer and sank his teeth into you with pleasure.

"Mhm," you hummed in confirmation because you couldn't even tell him that you had an implant and that you desperately wanted to feel him inside you without any shitty latex barriers. That was enough for him to reach into his pants and sloppily start unbuckling his belt. And you were so impatient that in the meantime you unzipped his fly. You moaned feeling his cock twitch towards your hands.

"Baby, I swear to you, I'm clean," he gasped, reaching for his seething cock.

You immediately jumped, sitting on the hood of the car and spreading your legs wide for him. You didn't even look down when you felt his hot tip right next to your entrance. A groan escaped his throat as he passed between your wet lips a few times and slowly entered you. Your loud moan died in his mouth, which effectively silenced you as he went deeper and deeper, only to withdraw a moment later and go even deeper again. Your walls clenched tightly around him, getting used to his invasive presence. Either you hadn't had a cock inside you for so long, or he was well-endowed by mother nature.

“You’re so big,” you whimpered, taking just over half of him.

Frankie groaned loudly, gripping your hips tightly, trying to go deeper but just couldn’t. He cursed under his breath and slowly began to thrust into you, hoping he could stretch you out more over time. But just half of him was enough to make you cock drunk.

You sloppily began to kiss him back and bit his lip hard when he tried to go deeper inside you. He hissed in pain and you felt a metallic taste in your mouth. You looked at him terrified but you couldn’t fight the pleasure his dick was giving you, still moving inside your tight pussy.

“I’m sorry,” you moaned, digging your nails into the back of his neck as he thrust his hips harder again. You slid your other hand down to his cheek and wiped the blood that was starting to run down his chin with your thumb.

“Again,” he gasped, looking at you completely pussy drunk. You clenched around him, making him groan, closing his eyes and letting you press hard into his mouth again.

The pain of the open wound and your tongue gently caressing it, sent shivers down to his balls. He felt fucking nirvana as your pussy allowed him to go deeper with each thrust. He tried to fight the quickly approaching orgasm but he simply couldn't. The way you caressed his body was beyond him.

"Baby please, I can't hold it in any longer," he moaned, starting to tremble. Then your lips began to create a trail of kisses along his jaw to his ear. You needed a long moment to come yourself, but right now you wanted nothing more than to please him.

"Go ahead," you whispered with a smile and gently bit his earlobe. The sounds he began to make with each subsequent thrust could bring you to another orgasm without even having to touch your pussy. You made a mental note to try it with him sometime.

All the moans went straight to his ear, and from his ear, straight to his cock, which was pulsing furiously, signaling the approaching orgasm. And then he made the most animalistic sound you've ever heard in your life. His balls tightened in pleasure, and all of his cum erupted deep inside you. He panted heavily, thrusting into you a few more times before he stopped and rested his head on your shoulder. Your cunt throbbed with the excitement of his orgasm and squeezed the last drops out of him, making him shiver. You began to place soft kisses on his neck and played with his hair between your fingers.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he said contritely, feeling awful that he had selfishly come before you.

“Don’t be,” you whispered, smiling fondly and pulling away. Frankie straightened up, looking at you with sparkling eyes. He looked so damn innocent after his orgasm that you immediately wanted to take care of him.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise,” he offered and you could hear the hint of pleading in his voice. You smiled wider, shaking your head and placing your hands on his cheeks, stroking his stubble with your thumbs.

“Actually, it was the best first date of my life,” you admitted and leaned down, placing a soft and sweet kiss on his lips. Frankie looked at you with puppy eyes and wrapped his arms around your waist tightly. “And honestly, I’m counting on another one. I haven't had this much fun in a while," you bit your lip hiding your wide smile and that was enough to stop him feeling like a dick. He smiled softly and this time he leaned down connecting your lips in a sweet and slow kiss.

"In that case, I make pretty good drinks," he whispered biting your lip getting a moan from you in return.

"I'd like that."

[crazyk-imagine]

Mean

Pairing: Paul Lahote x Fem!reader

Characters: Fem!reader, Paul Lahote, Sam Uley, Emily Young, Jared Cameron, Embray Call, Tiny Tim (made up)

Warnings: Reader knows about the supernatural, implications of dead parent, ex's inspire people, Sam and Emily are adorable, am I making them my favorites bc of the way I write them lol, Paul and Reader are adorable, Paul is a little shit, so is Embry and Jared, no one can act normal around a sassy person

Word Count: 1,231

A/N: Was I listening to Mean by Taylor Swift? You can't prove anything

I've had this ready for a week, but shit kept happening at work man ughhhhhh

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was meant to be, or so you thought.

You blink, staring at the ceiling not sure why your ex came to mind.

He was partial to the reason for your move the gloomy town (which you enjoyed more than the sunny state you were in) but not the entire reason.

If only your mom could see you now, working hard and still keeping true to who you are.

You push yourself out of bed, needing to get started on your day.

-

You finish up and jot down another line, knowing it's slowly turned into a "revenge" song.

You exit your place and hop in your truck, heading down to your favorite person's place.

"Emily, your other honey is home."

Sam lets out a dry laugh. "Funny as always."

"I know, it's one of the perks of being my friend."

"Are going to do..." You snatch a muffin from the tray. "Sam things?"

The couple glance at one another, curious if you know.

"Yeah, we won't be back till later-" He doesn't finish as the boys burst through the door. Almost all ignore you, not aware of your presence.

You mumble, "now I know why you're ready to feed an army."

The boys freeze, all conversations stopping. "Uh-"

"Who's the girl?" Jared asks, snaking a muffin.

You raise a brow, picking at the muffin, breaking it into bite size pieces. "What a question."

"Who's the sassy girl?" The same guy asks.

"How do you deal with idiots?"

Emily snickers, scanning over the pack for their expressions.

"Good thing Paul's not here or else he'd flip a lid," Embry mutters.

You push yourself off the stool and grab your bag. "Later, Em. Bye bye, Sammy."

You wave them off before glancing at the group. "Such an interesting... gang you have here."

You spin around, smirking to yourself, not wanting to let the cat (wolf) out of its bag. "I heard there's going to be a full moon tonight."

Or maybe you don't care if they know you know.

"Does she-"

The door slams shut.

You shake your head, smirking to yourself, proud of your teasing. You bump into a body, not entirely paying attention. "Sorry." You pass by the person and hop in your car, not realizing the electricity he felt in that simple touch.

You look up after putting your keys in the ignition, only to find a dark pair of eyes on yours.

The subtle feeling through your body alerts you.

"Crap. Crap. Crap. Crap." You have to force your gaze away from his. "Please don't be able to read lips. Oh, crap. They can hear." You start pulling out and make it back to your house.

-

Weeks go by and you screen another one of Emily's calls.

"I'll call her when this passes," you mutter, writing another line. You slam your pencil down, "who am I kidding? It's never going to stop."

You don't want to answer her and send another lie.

Boo Thang #2 &lt;;3

'Sorry, not feeling good. Will text later.' 2:59pm Sent Read

A knock on your door surprises you.

You carefully make your way to the door, scanning through the peephole. Your back's flat against the door. "Why the hell is he here?"

"We need to talk."

"I don't think so."

"You know more than you let on."

"So?"

"We need to talk."

"Can I just call you?"

"No, Emily's been trying for days, and it hasn't worked. Let me in."

You scoff, "not with that attitude."

He growls under his breath, "fine. Please let me in?"

"No."

"You're testing my patience."

"Go test it out with someone else."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

"You gotta be more specific bud."

"I don't like that name."

"Bud?"

"Stop it."

You smirk, "bud."

He knocks on your door with more force, trying to get one of your neighbors to come out so they can tell him to stop and make you let him in.

You snarl as the door swings open, "stop it you, idiot." You yank him in, earning a confident smirk from him.

"I don't like this look on you. You think you've won."

"Who says I haven't?"

"Me. I am the one who decides since this is my place."

"Living here alone? Really?"

You shrug, "parents died."

"Oh," he clears his throat, "sorry."

"It's fine. Not your fault."

"So, uh- what do you know?"

"I used to visit when I was a kid and heard the stories because of my cousin."

"You know?"

"That we happen to be united forever essentially, kind of hard not to, not gonna lie."

"Are you upset?"

You furrow your brows, "what do you mean?"

"Your imprints with the hothead. The one with "anger" issues. The list goes on." His brows furrow in annoyance, the pout on his lip making him look... cute.

"Who?"

He shocked you don't know who he is. "Lahote?"

"Paul?" You ask, not entirely sure if you got the right name or not.

"Oh, so you do know."

He sighs, "great."

"Barely, I just remember your guy's names from the elders at the meetings."

"How long has it been since you were in town?"

You shrug, "few years. I haven't been out of the house as much since my life went to crap," you offer a sarcastic smile.

"I feel like I've brought the mood down, do you- do you want to go out? I know this one place with uh- with decent music." He tells you the name and it takes all of you to not smile.

"Let's go, but we take my car."

He lets out a dramatic sigh, "fine."

-

You two arrive half an hour before you have to go on stage.

You make up an excuse and say you're going to be right back, needing to use the little girl's room.

"Next up, is one of our favorites," the mc, Tiny Tim (your favorite guy there) announces.

You walk across stage, confusing Paul but not Emily and Sam (who told him to take you there if he got far enough). They cheer you on while listening to your song.

All you are is mean And a liar, and pathetic, and alone in life And mean, and mean, and mean, and mean

You make it back to your seat beside your wolf.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

You shrug, not liking the attention on you.

"That was- that was amazing."

"It was nothing."

"No- no, that was really good." Emily sneaks up behind you. "And that's saying something, Paul doesn't like to use his words to express his emotions."

The man frowns. "We get it. We get it."

You roll your eyes, "stop it, you two."

-

You two make it back your place. "I should at least drop you off."

He shakes his head, "I'm not that far from you."

"I don't know if I believe that."

"Then believe ne when I say I can run and not get tired."

You narrow your eyes before turning your head to hide your chuckle. "Get out of here, you idiot."

You hear him close the door and stare into the woods, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.

The only wolf standing between the path of trees sticks out and you know it's him.

You shake your head, going into your home. "Idiot."

You swear you hear him huff.

[mimasroom2]

“But you’re like…. real pretty.” A Mean Girls Ellie au

Mean girls Ellie au but it’s only up until the burn book scene bc I do not wanna be writing the whole ass thing😭 Janice & Damian don’t exist in this au shhh we don’t need them.. we’re focused on Ellie. Also! Don’t worry ab the ages of characters plz LMAO just pretend they’re all in high school unless said otherwise. This took me a long time to write 2 be accurate 2 the movie so pleaseeeee show it some love ! Literally just mean girls but then I take my own route & they fuck😇

C/w: Regina!Ellie & Cady!reader have secret sexy time but that’s later 😋. Ppl are judgmental but it’s mean girls what did you expect. Uhh Ellie curses a lot ig. Strictly lesbian reader. Allusion 2 reader masturbating to Ellie but no details. David is their classmate (still a pedophile) & Ellie breaks his finger😘! Ellie is VERY morally grey. SLOWWWW BURNNNN.

You as Cady

Ellie as Regina

Dina as Gretchen

Jesse as Karen

W/c: 5k

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

“Here’s your lunch. I put a dollar in there so that you can get yourself some milk. Ask someone where to do that, okay?”

“Dad, I’m fine. I can find milk by myself.” You roll your eyes playfully at him.

Today was your first day of high school. Well, actually public school in general. You had been living with your parents in Africa until you moved to the US, and that meant no more homeschooling for you.

You wave goodbye to your parents as they drop you off. “Yeah, I’m not worried. High school is gonna be a fucking breeze.” You think to yourself, turning around to walk into the school and you almost run face first into a bus. You look back at your parents and you swear to god your mom almost had a heart attack.

Great start.

~

“Thank fucking god.” You sighed to yourself. Finally the first few classes were done, and you could eat. You thought it was weird you had to eat on a schedule now, you could practically have lunch whenever you felt like it back in Africa, just like the grazing animals.

You can finally relax, kick up your feet, enjoy some nice quiet you time and-

“Holyyyy shitttttt.” You slowly take your headphones off as you walk into the roaring cafeteria. This is seriously where they expect you to eat? Sounded more like 100 dying elephants to you. You scoff and slowly start walking around, watching all the people at each different table converse with one another. There’s so many different cliques, and it seems like they just get worse as you go deeper into the cafeteria.

You stop in the very center of the cafeteria. You’re in front of a table with three people sitting side by side, not across from each other. There’s an Asian guy counting on his fingers, a girl with her hair in a bun and a really pretty smile, and a girl in the middle. She has her hair in a sort of half up half down style, freckles all over her face, and the cutest fucking nose you’ve ever seen. She looks up at you from her seat in between them, and you two make eye contact. Your heart practically jumps out of your chest. You’re completely mesmerized by her, but unfortunately the beautiful stranger keeps you from looking where you’re walking, and you run right into a guy carrying a lunch tray.

“What the shit-“ he starts, but then looks up at you. “Oh damn. Never seen you before. The names David.” He reaches his hand out to shake yours, and you catch him looking down your low cut shirt. He makes eye contact with you again and smirks, “How bout you pay me back for my lunch that’s now on the ground. Come with me to the tech booth after school.”

Suddenly you hear a voice coming from behind you, “Ew. Fuck off, David. No one wants to hit that.”

You turn around and it’s the girl you had locked eyes with before. You manage to say “Uh, hit what?” worried you’d somehow manage to get into a fight on your first day of school.

“You fuck off, Ellie. I’m just bein’ friendly. Plus, I bet she’d wanna hit. You see the way she’s lookin’ at me?”

You look between the two of them, still trying to figure out what they want you to smack. “Sorry, hit what exactly?”

The girl named Ellie looks you up and down, slowly. You gulp. “Do yah wanna have sex with him? Yes or no.”

Your eyes widen and you shake your head ‘no’ vigorously, earning yourself a laugh from the cute brunette defending you.

“Kay, it’s settled. No one wants to sleep with you. Move along, David. Can’t believe you’re in the same grade as us and yet you still somehow manage to be a pedophile.”

He scoffs and walks away. You smile politely at her, and try to wander off to find somewhere to sit. However, you can feel her eyes burning holes into your back, or maybe your ass, and she suddenly calls out to you, “Wait. Sit down. How come I don’t know you?”

You look around, point to yourself and say “Me?” Then mentally slap yourself. Who else could she be talking to?

“Yeah, you. Sit down, babe.” She nods her head at the seat in front of her, the way you’ve seen guys do. You sit down. You’re not going to say no to anyone defending you on your first day of school. And you’re definitely not saying no to the beautiful stranger beckoning you to sit with her.

The other two people at the table don’t smile as you sit down, they just look at Ellie and back at you. Ellie repeats herself, “How come I don’t know a pretty girl like you?”

You’re caught off guard, blinking at her while trying to think of something to say. “Oh, I’m new.” You shift in the uncomfortable plastic seat. “I just moved here from Africa.”

She raises one eyebrow. You notice there’s a scar through it. “Huh?”

“I was homeschooled.”

She grabs the chain she’s wearing around her neck and starts fiddling with it. “Huh?”

Do people not know what that is? You try explaining to her, “My mom taught me at home-“

She interrupts you, putting one hand in the air in a ‘stop’ motion. “No, fuck, I know what homeschooling is, I’m not stupid.” She leans in closer like she’s studying you. “So you’ve.. never been to a real school before?”

You shake your head ‘no’

“Shut the fuck up.” She scoffs and looks between the two people by her side, “Shut the fuck. Up.”

“I didn’t say anything..” You laugh awkwardly.

“Huh. That’s so interesting. But you’re like…. real pretty.” She raises her eyebrows.

“Oh! Uh thank you.” You look down, trying to hide your blush.

“Ahh, so you agree. You think you’re real pretty?” Ellie has this shit eating grin on her face, and for a second you think she’s no better than the guy who was hitting on you.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know-“

“Wow!” Ellie’s eyes suddenly light up. “Love the bracelet you have. Where’d you get it?” She grabs your arm without permission and looks at your wrist. She rests her chin in her palm and looks at you with beautiful twinkling green eyes, waiting for you to reply. Somehow you didn’t notice her tattoo until just now. It’s really nice - ferns and what looks like a moth. Fuck, that’s hot.

“My uh-“ You swear you can’t speak. You’ve never had a stuttering problem and yet here you are tripping over yourself in front of the most enchanting girl you’ve ever seen. “My mom made it for me.”

“Ohmygod it’s just like mine!” The girl to the side of her finally speaks up, then giggles cutely, “That is soooo fetch.”

Ellie suddenly frowns. She turns to her side to face the girl and scoffs. “What the fuck is fetch.”

“It’s like slang! Uhm from Jackson.” She looks down, away from Ellie like she’s ashamed of what she just said.

“So if you’re from Africa….. why are you white??” The one guy of the group suddenly says, staring at you, almost like he’s disgusted.

“Holy fuck, Jesse. You can’t just ask people why they’re white.” The other girl scolds him.

“Let me talk to Dina n Jesse privately for like one second, would yah, dollface?” You swear she actually winks at you.

You gulp, and nod, looking around trying to avoid making any more eye contact with Ellie. She whispers briefly to the girl, who’s Dina, and then to the boy, who’s Jesse.

She turns back to you, “Alright, jus’ to let yah know, we don’t do this very often. So consider this a big deal, alright?” Ellie grins at you. You just nod.

“We’re inviting you to have lunch with us every day for the rest of the week.” Dina chimes in, smiling widely.

You put your hands up, “Oh you don’t have to-“

“Fuck yeah. So I’ll see yah tomorrow.” Ellie interrupts you again. You really should get used to that if you’re going to spend more time with them.

“On Wednesdays we wear pink.” Jesse winks at you and gives you a big thumbs up.

~

The next day you enter the cafeteria and Ellie immediately flags you over, making a ‘cmere’ motion with two fingers. “There she is.” She grins. She’s wearing a low cut tank top, a little pink cardigan and leather pants. The tank top has writing that says ‘a little bit dramatic.’ You smile to yourself, somehow it makes no sense and fits her perfectly at the same time. You look down at your own clothes, a simple button up pink shirt you borrowed from your mom and jeans. Suddenly you feel way less cool, even though you’re somehow sitting with the most popular kids in school.

This time, you’re sitting next to Jesse, with Ellie and Dina across from you.

“Yknow how many calories are in this? Doesn’t say.” Ellie hands you some sort of bar and you look at the numbers on the wrapper. 48/120.

“Yeah, that should be 40%.” You hand it back to her, but your fingers touch hers accidentally. There’s butterflies in your stomach again, you realize they’re the same ones from yesterday. You thought it was just first day jitters.

She stares at you and keeps her hand there a moment too long, before clearing her throat and saying, “Fuck it. I’m getting cheese fries.” She pulls her hand away and stands up swiftly.

Dina watches her walk away then turns back toward you. “So. Are there any boys you think are cute?”

You try to think of the first girl your mind remembers that’s not Ellie. “Well, there’s this girl in my calculus class-“

“Who is it?” Jesse interrupts you, and Dina’s eyes widen.

You clear your throat, “Her names Cat.”

“No!” They both shout in unison, and it actually makes you jump a little.

Dina actually fans herself as if she’s going to faint. You swear you’ve only seen that in movies. “Ohmygod you can’t like Cat! That’s Ellie’s ex girlfriend.”

“They went out for a year. She gave her the tattoo on her arm.” Jesse chimes in.

You try to hide the confused yet pleased look on your face when you find out Ellie likes girls too.

Dina continues, “Listen, any exes are off limits to friends. That’s just like, the rules… everywhere.” She crosses her arms and Jesse nods. “Oh, but don’t worry. I won’t tell Ellie what you said. It’ll be our little secret.” She smiles at you.

~

At the end of the day, you’re walking back to the parking lot, just thinking to yourself. Jesse seems probably the nicest, but he’s basically got no head on his shoulders. At least from what you could tell. Dina’s nice too, but there’s something off about her. Maybe because she’s closer to Ellie than Jesse? You felt like you couldn’t trust her entirely. And Ellie. Fuck man, she’s absolutely gorgeous. You can’t get her out of your mind no matter what you do, you stayed up later than usual last night thinking about her… but that doesn’t matter right now.

Suddenly, you hear a car beep from behind you. You turn around to see all three of them in a classy convertible, with Ellie driving. “Get in, fuckface, we’re going shopping.” you hear her say, and well, you can’t really say no.

Ellie’s like.. a hot masc bratz doll. You never had any dolls. Especially not bratz. Your mom hated them. She’d probably hate Ellie too, thinking about it.

~

You four end up walking through a mall, and there’s actually a lot of people from your school there. The three of them are just.. passing by all these cool looking stores. You haven’t had the chance to actually shop yet since you’ve moved, and you don’t want to feel any more alien than you already do, so you don’t ask Ellie to stop by any of them. You’re all walking side by side, but Ellie’s the farthest away from you. She points at a shop labeled ‘Spencer’s’ and whispers something to Dina. Dina laughs and has to hold onto Ellie’s arm so she doesn’t fall over. You feel your face grow red, and you’re surprised to see that you actually feel jealous. Whatever she said must’ve been really hilarious.

Suddenly, Ellie stops walking and holds out her hand. “What. The. Fuck.”

You look across the way and see the guy who was hitting on you yesterday talking to a girl who looks about 14.

“Holy shit! Is that David?” Jesse steps forward.

“Yeah. It fucking is.” Ellie crosses her arms and scoffs. “And look who he’s talking to.”

This time, Dina steps up, her jaw dropped. “You’ve gotta be fucking shitting my dick.” Even from knowing her only two days, you can tell she never cursed like that, so it must be serious.

“Dina, who is that?” You ask her.

She answers you, but doesn’t look at you. She just keeps staring at the scene playing out in front of her. “That’s one of the damn kids I babysit. Practically my own sister. And fucking pedo David is talking to her.”

“Wait, what makes him a pedophile?” You ask, looking between the three of them.

“He’s been caught talking to girls who are reallyyyy young. Like, even though he’s 17, that’s still fucked up.” Dina answers. “Not just normal talking too. Like, full on crazy shit. Keeps telling them they’re special.”

You shudder and turn to look at him again.

“Yknow. I wouldn’t be surprised if he turned out to be a cannibal too.” Jesse states and looks at you.

Ellie huffs, unfolding her arms, “Follow me.”

You three speed walk behind Ellie as she makes a beeline straight towards David and the little girl. Dina and Jesse are muttering about how they don’t think this is a good idea, which makes you curious as to what the hell Ellie’s going to do to him.

“Who’re you talkin’ to, David?” Ellie asks in a sing song voice, which actually makes her sound way scarier.

He turns around and throws his arms up, immediately annoyed at Ellie for ruining his creepy actions yet again. “What the fuck do you want, Ellie.”

She puts her hands on her hips, “Don’t make me repeat myself. Who the fuck are you talking to?”

Shit.. you really shouldn’t be thinking about this right now, but that was really hot. You glance at the girl and she looks visibly relieved she’s not talking to him anymore, which says a lot. Ellie and David continue arguing while Dina comforts the girl and tries to pull her away from the situation.

“Ohhhoho shit.” Jesse says and points to Ellie slowly taking a few steps back from David while she’s still talking to him, which makes him follow her.

“What’s going on?” You ask him.

He shakes his head, “Just watch.”

“Cmere, David. Pretty boy like you got nothin’ to lose.” Your blood would boil at what she said, but it’s pretty obvious she’s faking it. Well, obvious to everyone but him.

She beckons him to follow her into a small hallway which nobody’s paying attention to. If there was one thing about Ellie, it’s that she could get anyone to do whatever she wanted.

You and Jesse subtly walk closer to them so you can listen. David’s so entranced by Ellie he’s not paying attention to anything else.

Ellie twirls a lock of her hair around her fingers, looking up at him, trying to appear cute and innocent. “Yknow I thought they were all just rumors.. but, I guess it’s true.” She looks him up and down, and makes it obvious she’s looking at his crotch.

He smiles at her, “What?”

She pretends to think, and gently holds his hand with both of hers, “Hmmm..” She looks away bashfully. You almost laugh at how oblivious he is. “Oh, I shouldn’t say..” she eggs him on.

“Nah, quit playin’. Just tell me.” He’s actually grinning so wide, he looks like he’s in a candy store. Does he really think people are raving about his dick that much?

Ellie’s face falls flat in a second, “I guess it’s true that you’re a fucking pedophile.” And she swiftly twists his hand in one motion, and you hear a crack.

Your eyes grow wide and he yells and curses at her, falling to his knees on the floor. She just taps her foot impatiently, waiting for him to shut up so she can talk.

“You’re gonna go and tell that little girl’s parents what you were doing. Everyone saw you, and now everyone can hear you screaming in pain.” She actually laughs. “There’s no hiding now, David.”

He looks up at her and yells, “WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO TELL THEM!??”

“Tell them that Ellie is the girl who broke your fucking finger.”

And then she walks away.

~

Ellie drives the four of you to her house to hangout, you try texting your parents you’ll be home for dinner, but you’re honestly not sure. And it’s only Wednesday. As soon as you get there your jaw drops, this place looks like it’s out of a damn movie.

“Wow, Ellie. Your house is really nice.” You say, not looking away from it.

“I know right.” She smirks at you.

Dina leans in and whispers to you, “Make sure you check out her dad. Damn, he’s hot.”

You guys walk in and her dad immediately greats you. He’s holding a small chihuahua and it’s almost comical considering how big and muscular he is.

“Hey, Mr. Miller. This is Cady.” Dina motions towards you. He shoots you a little finger gun and puts the dog down.

“Jus’ wanna tell yah.. if yah need anythin’ don’t be shy, okay? No rules in this house. I’m not like a regular dad. I’m a cool dad.” He winks and turns toward Ellie, “Right, baby girl?”

She’s leaning against the counter. Her face is completely blank as she shuts him down immediately, “Please stop talking.”

Ellie leads you all upstairs to her massive ass room. You thought the outside was impressive, but this is crazy.

“This is your room?” You spin around.

Ellie sits down to take off her shoes. “Mhmm. It was Joel’s room… but I made him trade me.”

You take off your shoes too and look around. There’s pillows, posters, and pictures everywhere that are just adorable. You can see a selfie printed out of the three of them that Dina took.

“Hey, someone put on Take On Me.” Ellie says.

Ellie takes off her little pink cardigan. You don’t mean to stare, but how could you not? Her bare arms are so toned and defined..

She snaps you out of your trance, “Cady, do you even know who sings this?”

“Umm.. Weezer?”

She looks you up and down slowly. She sure loves doing that. “Ugh I love her. She’s like a martian.” She says to Dina.

Jesse walks over to a bookshelf and picks up a hot pink book. It’s the size of a photo album. “Holy shit, I forgot about this.” He laughs.

Ellie glances over to look at what he’s holding. “Damn. Haven’t touched that thing in forever.”

“Look at this, Cady. It’s our burn book.” Dina motions you over to look at it. “See, we would cut out pictures from the yearbook and write little comments.”

Jesse starts reading, “Abby Anderson has sex in boats.”

“Still true.” Ellie chimes in.

“Owen Moore is a fat virgin.” Dina reads.

Ellie snorts. “Still half true.”

She sighs and looks at you. You’re immersed in the burn book and yet, you can immediately feel her eyes on your skin. You look up at her. She has a completely different look in her eyes. Her stance isn’t as strong, she’s fidgeting with her fingers, and her eyes are glossy. She looks almost.. vulnerable.

You keep looking at her, puzzled, when she walks over to you and takes your arm. She’s gentle this time, opposed to when she did the same thing to look at your bracelet when you first met her. She leads you over to her ginormous closet. Dina and Jesse are still giggling at the burn book, they don’t even notice you two left. She steps closer to you.

“We need to get you some new clothes.” Ellie says. But her voice is lower and not as loud as when she usually talks. You try your best to control your breathing, you swear you could get off on just her voice alone.

It’s that weird stage or moment in time. Where you’re not entirely sure if the other person is feeling and thinking the same things as you. It makes you nervous, especially because you haven’t done this kind of thing a lot before. And especially because it’s Ellie fucking Williams.

She steps even closer to you. “Fuck. Needa help you out with clothes.” She mutters. You can barely hear her, she may as well be talking to herself.

She calls Jesse and Dina over with a few snaps of her fingers. “Can you two go make the four of us some drinks. Virgin margaritas.” She turns towards you. You’re just inches away from her face. You’re way too close. “Cady, what do you like?” She asks, making direct eye contact with you. “Lemon lime?” She asks, furrowing her eyebrows almost like she’s pouting, before you can answer her.

Jesse nods and heads out of the room. Dina gives Ellie a weird look, but pulls out her phone to look up recipes and follows Jesse downstairs.

You wait a few moments before you stop hearing footsteps on the stairs, then attempt to ask Ellie what’s going on, “Ellie, why-“

She cuts you off before you can finish, like how she always does. Usually it annoys you, but right now it’s different. Right now it means that she’s really the one in charge. She reaches up and fiddles with the collar of your shirt.

“Cmere, baby. I like you.. okay? You’re cute.” You weren’t sure if she was talking about you platonically or romantically. Her tone was so casual, like she was talking about what to have for dinner, and yet the way she was caressing you made your knees weak. Well, you weren’t sure until she pulls you in by the shirt and smashes her lips against yours.

You immediately gasp and whimper at the action, and become embarrassed at how inexperienced you are. But she fucking loves it, kissing you deeper and unbuttoning a few buttons at the top of your shirt. When she uses her tongue, it’s over. You moan into her mouth and your hands desperately grab at her. She laughs and you can feel the same shit eating grin she gave you when you first met her.

You break away, suddenly remembering that Dina and Jesse are downstairs and could be back any minute. “You sure they’re gonna be gone long enough?” You didn’t know how far she wanted to go… but you could guess.

She nods. “I’m sure. Between the two of them, yeah. Jesse doesn’t know how to make anything and Dina’s gonna spend at least 15 minutes making it perfect after she finds a recipe. Plus they’ll probably both spend another 7 or so minutes arguing wether they should really make it virgin or not. And my dads playing one of his shooter games. Trust me, having a big house comes in handy.” She leans in closer to you, “In any case, with how good I’m gonna make you feel, you won’t be lasting very long.”

And with that she immediately starts making out with you again. It’s sloppy and desperate and not something you would expect from Ellie. But this vulnerable side just seems so much more like her. You pull at her hair, and she fucking moans, the slutty sound sending heat straight down to your pussy.

You pull away again, and she looks up at you like she’s about to cry if she doesn’t touch you. You shakily nod and she bites your neck hard. Thank god you’re wearing a high collar button up.

“Fuck, Ellie.” You yelp, a little too loud, so she shuts you up by soothing the bite marks with her wet tongue. You whine for more, trying any way you can to pull her closer.

She hits a particularly sensitive spot, you gasp and open your eyes. You remember where you are, and look around in her closet. It’s a decent sized walk-in one. Everything’s sorted by color and style. Gorgeous shoes are on racks on the side. A nice fancy chaise is in the middle. You see a few name brand purses throughout. Between Ellie’s teeth and your envy for her life, you feel on fire.

“You always get what you want.” You seethe through your teeth.

“Shut your fucking mouth. Right now is about you.” She pulls away from your neck and reaches straight down to your jeans. She pauses, looking at you to ask for permission. You gulp, nodding to tell her you want her to. She unbuttons your pants and lets them fall down your legs just a little bit, to give herself better access to your panties.

She pulls those down too, and places two fingers to where you’re wet. She gasps, and you cover your face with your hands. “Shit, no.” She pulls down your arms with her non dominant hand, and quickly places a kiss on your cheek. “You’re not gonna hide from me, baby.”

You nod, swallowing. You can feel her making circles around you, wanting to push in. “Please, Ellie.” You beg. You’ve never sounded more desperate in your life.

With one swift motion she pushes two fingers inside you, and pushes you back so that you land against the wall. You gasp and are about to retort, but you accidentally cut yourself off with a moan as Ellie starts pumping her fingers in and out of you. Her other hand is up against the wall above you. You whimper as she picks up pace, this kind of stuff only happens in fiction. You don’t want to cover your face again, so you try turning away from her. She immediately grabs your chin with her spare hand and forces you to face her. “You better look at me when I’m fucking you.” She stares directly into your eyes.

You moan at how rough and fucking gentle she is at the same time. You don’t know why you’re surprised, but you can tell she wants you to enjoy this. Thinking about it, this actually doesn’t benefit her in any way. She’s not the one getting off. In fact, she’d be in major shit if anyone walked into the room.

With each passing second, she’s getting faster. Picking up her pace and making no attempt to be quiet, grunting in your ear. You look down and see her tattoo flexing as she uses her whole arm to fuck you.

“Yeah, you’re gonna fucking cum onto my fingers like you know what’s good for yah. Making a fucking mess on me, shit. So wet, dollface.” She mutters through her teeth. You knew she loved to talk, but she especially loves to talk when she’s making you feel so good.

Just a few more sentences and you’re coming undone, your legs shake and she has to hold your hip to keep you in place.

“Uuugh.. mm. ‘M gonna cum, Ellie.”

“Fucking give it to me.” She huffs out and curls her fingers up into you. Immediately white hot pleasure takes over you. You’re cumming on her fingers just how she wanted. She’s still holding onto you, making sure you don’t fall as she fucks you through your orgasm. She’s fucking magical, making your orgasm last as long as she can, until your eyes are rolling back and you’re whining that it’s too much.

You’re finally able to slow down your breathing and take in what just happened. God, that was good. So much better than when you fucked yourself to the thought of her.

Ellie brings the two fingers she used on you up to her mouth and sucks on them. She even makes eye contact with you until she’s done cleaning them. Your jaw was already on the floor. Now it’s 6 feet below.

You hear Jesse say “Fuck” from downstairs, so you quickly pull your pants back up and button up your shirt in a mirror. Ellie fixes her hair and walks out of the closet, meeting Jesse and Dina as they come into the room.

“She spilled one.” Jesse says, nodding towards Dina who’s holding a tray of now three margaritas.

“Are they actually virgin?” Ellie crosses her arms.

“For once, yeah.” Dina says. “So. Who’s not getting one?”

You practically march out of the closet, “I want it. I’m fucking thirsty.” You greedily grab the drink from off the tray and take a large sip. All three of your friends are staring at you, and you bring it down from your lips. “What! Trying on clothes gets tiring okay?” You whine.

“Fuck it. ‘S my house. I’m getting one.” Ellie says.

“And I’m not the one who spilled it.” Jesse sticks his tongue out at Dina, who rolls her eyes.

The four of you sit down on the couch in Ellie’s room. You’re sitting next to Ellie, she crosses her legs and puts her arm around you.

Dina and Jesse give her a look, but she handles it so smoothly, you swear she’s prepared for anything. “Fuck it, you’re officially part of our group now. Gon’ stay by my side longer than just the rest of the week.” She announces, lightly punching you in the arm.

Jesse holds up his drink, “To Cady?” He prompts, looking between you and Ellie.

She nods, holding hers out to meet Jesse’s. You bring yours up too. “To Cady!” All four of you say, and Dina squeals and claps her hands.

You look over to Ellie. She’s still holding you in her arm, she smiles softly, grabs your side and brings you in a little closer.

𓆟. ° .• .𓆝 .• ° . 𓆟 . ° .• .𓆞

[amourtoken]

so I literally cannot stop thinking abt this here u go

god kink Noah and softie Christian reader

I already know I'm going to hell so no need to remind me ik this is filth but that's what's fun abt it also basing the looks of the building off of this big ass church I used to go to and it's very weird and industrial so apologies if it's confusing

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

cw: sacrilege lmao, degradation, raw sex, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, Noah kinda thinks he's better than everyone else, maybe bc he thinks he's God idk, corruption, loss of virginity, experienced Noah, dirty talk, slightly public, belly bulge, dacryphilia

♡ Noah's only at church cause he has to be, otherwise why the fuck would he waste his morning here. He sits through the awful music and wonders how all of these people live such a lie, its pathetic to him. The only thing that makes it bearable is the pretty little thing in the little white sundress that never fails to show up every Sunday.

♡ he thinks you're so cute. Brainwashed, but cute. All he ever thinks abt is how he could desecrate you and how you'd look so much prettier worshipping him.

♡ Noah is damn near your exact opposite, covered in tattoos, always wearing dark colors. He never really talks to anyone either, keeping to himself. You'd say he was miserable if you didn't see his face soften a little every time you catch his eye. You try to make a point and interact with him every chance you get, maybe he's lonely? You can't let that happen. He's the worship leader's son, you'd think he'd be having a better time but who knows what's going through his head.

♡ Noah almost feels bad that he can't keep his thoughts in order when you walk up to him, pretty smile plastered on your face. You're chattering about today's service and he's picturing his hands on your hips, fingers digging into the soft skin while he bucks up into you and gets to hear those pretty little noises he's sure you'd make. All he'd have to do is pull your dress up too, it'd be easy. He's nodding along with your conversation and trying to seem interested but it's getting harder and harder to pretend he's listening.

♡ his eyes drifting to the neckline of your dress which is pretty modest but God he'd be able to pull it down so easy, tease your nipples while you grind yourself on his thigh and whine for him to fill you up. His eyes snap back to your face which is etched with concern.

"Noah, are you feeling alright? You seem out of it."

♡ he could lie, but what's the point. Isn't lying a sin?

"I'm fine. Just thinking about how pretty you'd look split on my cock."

♡ did he really say that??? You weren't sure how to even respond. Or if you should at all. You were flushed down to your chest and Noah admired the pretty pink tinge to your skin. He was almost nervous he'd fucked up but he knew what to say to have you following him like a little sheep. If you can sit through service every week and genuinely believe the shit his father is saying, you'll do anything if it's said in the right tone.

"Bet you've never even fucked before, have you? Saving yourself for marriage and all that bullshit. You know I could make you feel good, you should let me show you."

♡ you're still stunned, standing like a little deer in some headlights. You'd be lying if you said you didn't find Noah attractive but you felt like he wasn't in the cards for you. He's everything you're not, but maybe that's what's so enticing about him. How he talked about your beliefs stung a little but you couldn't help the way your thighs pressed together at the thought of him and his suggestion. He'd never hurt you, right? You can trust him, why would he wrong you?

♡ Noah nodded toward one of the exit doors, turning to leave and hoping you'd follow. You nearly tripped over your own feet trying to catch up with him. Your brain felt fuzzy and you knew whatever he was gonna put you through was horrifically sinful but you can be forgiven for being curious, right? Noah locked the door behind you, leaving you both in an empty stairwell. Hopefully no one tried to interrupt the two of you, because Noah was immediately to work. He walked you backwards until your back was pressed to the concrete wall and he tangled his fingers in your hair, pulling until you whimpered and keened against his hand for some relief.

"The only fucking God in this building is me. I expect you to treat me like such."

"You answer to me, and you follow my fucking directions, yeah? Gonna be a good girl and do what I say?"

♡ you felt your heart race terribly in your chest from how close he was, you felt like a prey animal being stalked by a predator. You really didn't know what to expect, you've never done this before. You shouldn't be doing this at all...what have you gotten yourself into...

♡ Noah surprisingly sinks to his knees in front of you, hands brushing at your knees and sliding up your thighs, hiking up your dress as he goes. His long fingers hooked under the waistband of your panties to tug them down and he threw one of your legs over his shoulder, without warning burying his face in your pussy making you yelp and tangle your fingers in his hair for some balance.

(Something like this yk)

♡ you pulled his hair tightly between your fingers, whining while he lapped at your pussy and groaned against you when you pulled a little too hard. You felt pricks of pins and needles all over your body, it felt like a swarm of butterflies populated your lower stomach. Oh god...one of his hands steadied itself on your thigh but the other slid up to glide between your folds, gathering the slick mess before prodding at your entrance making you squirm. He was right, you hadn't done this before. He wanted you to enjoy yourself though, that's why he was taking the time to stretch you out and make you cum, so you could actually take his cock afterwards.

♡ the fingers at your entrance slid in slowly, stretching you out and scissoring slightly to spread you further. Your legs were shaking and the swarm in your belly felt 100x worse. You were worried you couldn't hold yourself up much longer...Noah pressed his fingers as deep as he could fit them, brushing your cervix and curving up to press right into the most sensitive spot he could. He laughed against your pussy when he felt you clench around his fingers, teeth brushing your clit and making you whimper pathetically above him. He was the one on his knees and you were unraveling. Pitiful.

"You gonna cum for me? Can't let you take this cock till you cum, won't fit."

♡ when he nudges a 3rd finger in you completely come undone, tugging his face closer to you and nearly crying while you grind into him through your orgasm. He speeds his fingers up inside of you until you're squirming and begging him to stop. He withdraws and stands back up, reminding you he towers over you at his full height and he licks your slick off of his fingers right in front of you. You're still panting and your legs feel shaky, this isn't helping.

♡ Noah thinks you look adorable so shaken up, he can't help but admire how your chest is rising so quickly and your face is flushed. He did that to you. He's gonna do so much more too. He backs you into the wall again and runs his hands down your thighs, picking you up and pressing your back into the wall for extra support while your legs wrapped around his waist. You threw your arms around his neck to steady yourself but he wasn't gonna drop you, he could hold you up for hours if he needed to. Again though, he thinks you're adorable and lets you think he could drop you just to get your heart racing again.

♡ he holds you up with one arm while freeing his achingly hard cock with the other. You didn't even really get a chance to see it, but when he drug the tip through the slick mess between your legs you could describe the feeling as dread. He felt huge. Noah leaned his head against your neck, pressing soft kisses up to your ear and nipping at the soft skin.

"Gotta relax for me, promise I'll make you feel so good...trust me"

"Can't wait to feel how tight this pussy is, can't believe I'm your first. Bet I'll be the last too."

"Gonna fucking ruin you for everyone else, gonna be mine forever, yeah?"

"So much for staying pure, hm? All it took was one little comment and here you are letting me fuck you raw in a stairwell. Wonder how your god feels about that."

♡ he'd planned on taking it slow but after sinking in just a few inches he couldn't help himself. He trusted up into you, hilting himself in one move and sank his teeth deep into your shoulder to try and muffle the groan that escaped his chest. He slapped a hand over your mouth as he sank in and thank God he did because the sound you made was nothing short of a scream. Big tears welled in your eyes even after all the work he did to prep you, the stretch of taking his cock felt almost too much. Noah was loving every moment, watching you fall apart for him. He pressed a large hand to your stomach as he started fucking himself into you just to feel how deep he fit in your poor body.

"O-oh god-"

"The only fucking god you should be praying to is me."

♡ your whimpers and moans were nonstop but thankfully muffled against his palm, he didn't want anyone interrupting you. You gripped his cock just fucking right and he doubted he could really last long but he needed to have you unravel on his dick before he could finish. Noah reached up and tugged the front of your dress down, leaning to absolutely cover your chest in hickeys and lick at your overly sensitive nipples, your whines pitched up when his teeth got a little too rough but he couldn't help but admire his work. Your pretty soft skin marred with teeth marks and bruises. There's no way you could walk back out there and have no one notice, everyone would know exactly what you did, and who you did it with. Perfect.

"bet you've been thinking about this just as much as I have, huh bunny? Needed to get fucked, needed to get filled up by some fat cock, yeah? Tell me."

"Your little god was keeping you from this, does he really feel better than me? Wanna hear you say it."

"Gonna cum again for me, bunny? Need to feel you squeeze this cock, you can do it. I got you."

♡ your head fell back against the hard wall as he fucked into you, the coil in your stomach tightened unbearably. Every thrust sank as deep as he could possibly get and made your legs shake in his hold. Noah was chasing your pleasure as much as his own, he loved seeing your pretty little pathetic expressions. He slid a hand between your bodies and barely even had a chance to brush your clit as you came. His arm around you tightened to keep you still as he fucked you through it, tears spilling from your eyes and ruining your pretty makeup.

"S-shit- that's it- good girl, feels good yeah? So good for me-"

"That's it, tell me who's making you feel this good baby say my fuckin' name- n-need to hear it"

♡ his thrusts picked up in intensity, fingers sinking into your hips hard enough to leave Bruises and he sank in impossibly deep as he shuddered through his own end, you whined at the feeling of his hot cum filling you up and the extra dripping out of you making a mess on the floor under you. It took a second for Noah to set you back down on shaky legs, he helped you straighten your dress back out before pulling you in for an uncharacteristically gentle kiss. He felt like he was a little harsh on you but he was happy you actually would do something like this with him finally.

"So pretty...we should do this again sometime, yeah?"

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // epilogue

summary: a few years later...

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.7k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n:

here it is :) the epilogue :)

(i'm crying, could you tell??) i figured it was time to post this now that we've officially entered the overlapping requiem/michigan cherry era. tbh i was just afraid to let these two go bc i love them so much.

thank you all again SO so much for all the love on this fic. it has truly meant everything to me that so many people came on this actual JOURNEY with me, i never intended this to be so long but here we are.

anyway, stick around for requiem!! and i hope you loved this if you made it this far!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

You were all dressed up in one of your finest gowns, attending the gala that preceded the presidential election.

Coriolanus was running, of course, and you were so incredibly proud. He's worked toward this for years, and you had been there every step of the way since the tenth annual Hunger Games, all those years ago. It felt like a distant memory- albeit one that still haunted you regularly.

You were a whole new person. A Capitol citizen most of the year, and you were happy most of the time. You and Coryo had always gone home in the summers, though, to spend your days surrounded by friends and family under the District Twelve sun. You always looked forward to it, but three months never felt like quite enough time. You missed your old life, but that's all it could be now.

While some Capitol elite was talking your ear off about the upcoming games, that's all you can think about. Well, how after the election that your boyfriend would most certainly win, those summers of peace would be a thing of the past. It was hard to think about, which is why you focussed on how you could work around it. Perhaps you would make smaller visits throughout the year- although Coryo was prepping you for the endless tasks that would even be put onto you as the First Lady of Panem. Once he wins the election, he would propose- and it would be followed by the wedding of the century. You didn't know if you dreaded it or if the pressure of it all just scared you beyond what excitement could repair.

"Miss Y/L/N?" Your train of thought is abruptly interrupted and you hum in response, bringing the champagne glass to your lips, acting like you were paying attention the whole time.

"Yes?" You respond as you lower your glass. "My apologies, I just spaced out for a moment there. It's a big day, after all..." You chuckle to recover, tilting your head slightly at them.

"I was just asking if you had any input in the arena for the next Games, if you could give us any hints." The man asks, seemingly impatient with you getting distracted.

"Oh," You reply, smile fading softly. "No, I- I really try to stay out of all of that." You laugh nervously, gripping tighter onto the glass as you take another sip, relieved when you feel someone's hand on your arm.

"Y/N, come sit. Coriolanus's speech is about to start, he got me to save you a seat at my table." Sejanus says, linking his arm with yours.

You politely excuse yourself from the conversation and allow him to pull you away. "Many thanks." You whisper to him, chuckling slightly as you glance back over your shoulder at the older man you were speaking to. "Some people are so tone-deaf, aren't they?"

"Most definitely." He sighs, shaking his head as he guides you toward his table at the front of the banquet hall, close to the stage. "Apparently that will never change."

Sejanus Plinth was your saving grace all these years, that, however, had never changed. You didn't see him as much anymore, with you being locked up in your office in the Snow penthouse focused on writing book after book until you were burnt out. His role as a doctor in and out of the Districts certainly didn't help either, but you knew he was partial to working back home in Twelve so he could spend more time with Lucy Gray. You were glad he was much more fulfilled in his adult life than you were; you always knew he would do well and you were proud. You had to take moments every so often to remind yourself that when you first met him and Coryo, you had been sad that you wouldn't get to see the men they would become but you had wondered. Now, you had your answers.

"Is that not the truth." You scoff under your breath, smiling and giving a quick wave to a few familiar faces as you pass. You had become somewhat of a people-pleasing expert, the same way Coriolanus had.

You sit down at the table at the front of the room just as the lights slightly dim, and the spotlight hits the stage. You gently cross one leg over the other, careful not to wrinkle your dress and clap in just the perfect polite way you had learned how to over the years, smiling as you see Coryo walk up onto the stage.

He waves, and people whistle and clap, and the smile on his face seems a little more genuine than it normally is during these speeches. Of course, though, this is his final address before he no doubt gets voted in as president, and you know that he is excited.

"Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for coming out tonight..." He says, in a subtle cue to get people to quiet down so he could speak, a drink still in his hand that he delicately hovers above the podium next to him. "This has been such an incredible opportunity for both of us running, and I must say, it's been fun." He tips the glass toward the other table at the front, and your eyes follow the movement to the other candidate, your friend and former classmate, Hilarius Heavensbee. They've never gotten along, and you know Hilarius wants nothing to do with this job. Not really. It makes you sad, a little bit, that his family would push him this far when he had confided in you in his freshman year that it wasn't what he wanted.

The man just gives Coryo a polite but nervous smile, taking another sip out of his own champagne glass. From where you were, you could see his hand trembling. You knew he would have to go next, and Coriolanus Snow was always a tough act to follow.

"Now, I am very happy about this turnout, because I have two important announcements to make." He continues, and whispers fill the room. You look over at Sejanus, a slight look of shock on your face. You didn't know he had anything special to announce, and he always kept you in the loop on everything. Sejanus just shrugs, looking back up at Coryo again. It must not actually be a big deal- it was probably just thanking some more people who have donated to his campaign.

"Firstly," He clears his throat, taking a step to the side as the screen behind him lights up. "For just a moment, see me as your head game maker and forget all about me running for president. Or don't, actually, maybe keep that in mind, but at the back of your mind." He chuckles, the little joke making the audience laugh. He was much more personable now than he once was, you smile a little as you remember helping him write his earlier speeches in a way that would make him more likable. "With the help of my fellow candidate and personal good friend, we are trying something new when it comes to The Hunger Games."

When he speaks, your heart drops and you sit up a little straighter- feeling all eyes on you as you just focus on him. For the first time, he looks down at you and gives you a small smile, the slightest nod in an effort to reassure you that it wasn't as scary as it sounded. You swallow and just keep your smile on as best as you can, ignoring all the stares.

"So, we all love The Games. They're exciting, the stakes are high, and I know every year we all pick our favourite tributes to root for and it's hard to watch them fall but, god, do I know better than anyone how good it feels when they win." Your cheeks burn intensely as Coryo sends a smile and a wink your way, and the screen behind him flashes to a picture of the two of you, taken after your shared university graduation just a couple of years ago. You were both smiling, but he was looking at you as he held you tight around your waist, and you looked into the camera and held up a three-finger salute. People are laughing and awe-ing at the photo of the two of you, and you laugh nervously, looking over at Sejanus with slightly panicked eyes.

You would be absolutely fine with this if he had just run it by you before, and you knew that whether you liked it or not, the Games were an integral part of who you were now, and always would be- but you certainly didn't want your name on anything to do with these new changes they're making. But, he wouldn't be talking about you at all if he knew you would hate it. You had to remind yourself of that.

"So, you all know my beautiful Y/N, of course, we're all big fans of hers here," Coryo says, gesturing to where you were sitting and you let out a nervous laugh, shaking your head at him in a way that would appear teasing to everyone else while he waits for everyone to finish clapping for you. "Don't get embarrassed already, darling, I've got a bit more to say about you so just sit tight, okay? Nothing bad, I promise." He says to you, looking into your eyes even as he stands up on the stage, everyone's laughter echoing in the background.

"So, I have known Y/N and her outstanding mind for years now. The Games are what brought us together when we were both just kids, but you all already know that story so I'll spare you the details. The bottom line is, I am so proud of the woman she has become. She's written two books that will soon become three, she graduated in the top three percent of our class with only a District education to build on, and she is the single most well-spoken, well-mannered, beautiful, and caring woman I have ever met. Truly, she has changed my entire outlook on life." He says, talking more so to the audience than to you, knowing that you're so embarrassed by this. And he would be correct. "It has truly been a privilege to know her, and to love her."

"But that was a long journey for us both, and a seemingly endless uphill battle for her recovery, despite her strength. The Games can be scary, let's be totally honest. It's life or death, and winning will change you, but Y/N came out the other side and wanted to make a difference for her family and that inspired me. And she continues to inspire me every day." Coryo says, pausing to take a sip of his champagne again. "So, all of this is to say, I'd like to thank her for all her support through my education, this campaign, and through the life we're building together. She inspired this idea in me and with the help of my fellow game makers as well as the Plinth family..." You look over at Sejanus as he continues, suddenly realizing he must have known about what was happening. He keeps a small smile on his lips as he watches, refusing to make eye contact with you.

"This," Coryo says, turning to look up at the screen while a picture comes up of a small cul-de-sac of beautiful homes. "Is just the beginning of the Victor's Rehabilitation Initiative."

You tilt your head, a shocked and confused smile on your face as you take in the photo and try to decipher what he's talking about.

"So, recently, Y/N has been more open with everyone about the struggles that came with being crowned a victor in our Games. Yes, they get to walk away with their lives, but what if winning meant something more? What if it meant security for them and their families, so they're not returning to their Districts with no sense of what to do next? That, everyone, is what this program is for. To help the strongest of them find a purpose again, and to encourage the bravest of Panem's children to get back on their feet after such an impressive feat as winning the Games."

You have to very consciously force your jaw to stay shut when you realize what he is saying, clapping along with everyone else while your smile relaxes into something more genuine. You knew that he wanted to abolish the Games altogether, and you knew that no matter who won the election, they wouldn't proceed for much longer. This was the first step in that direction, and you were flooded with emotions. Pride, excitement, relief.

"For ten years, until the beginning of the mentorship program, our victors were cast aside. Never to be heard from again after their win, I, for one, became curious as to what happened to them after the Games as soon as I met Y/N, and I have heard that question from many of you as well since we were all given the pleasure of getting to know her." Coryo's smile is one of pride and excitement, sparing a glance at you as he allows the audience to have their responses. So far, all seemingly positive despite the present undertones of him caring about the people in the Districts. He was a smooth talker, he knew exactly how to command a space and get people to believe what he wanted. And he was using it for good. "I mean, how many other victors have something extraordinary, just like her, that won't be utilized or nurtured? We never knew."

"From now on," He continues, the crowd quieting down. "Our victors will be given homes in what we've decided to call Victor's Villages in each of the Twelve Districts. They'll have ensured security for themselves and their families, and a generous sum of prize money to help them with whatever they need. Whether that's medical attention, both physical and emotional, or, if they so choose, when they reach the appropriate age, they could apply at our university to further their education. Though, between you and I, admittance is not guaranteed." He winks at the end and it's accompanied by laughter, which you try and go along with, but you're too close to tears to even process fully what was going on. This was a huge step in the right direction, even if like he said, acceptance was not guaranteed. "What I mean, is that it will be up to them. They can live their lives to the fullest, just like our gem, Y/N."

He looks at you again, and you can really only see his blurry form through your tears until someone is handing you a handkerchief to dry your eyes while people clap and cheer over the idea.

This was something you couldn't have imagined years ago. This was everything you've wanted since the Games- to make a difference, for people to care. And it was happening right before your eyes. Thanks to him. Thanks to you.

"And with that," Coryo says after a few moments, waiting for the crowd to quiet down after taking in your reaction. "We can move on to my second announcement, which is my formal withdrawal from the presidential campaign."

Gasps fill the room and your smile disappears, a hand coming up to your mouth as you look up at him, shocked and confused with the announcement that blindsided even you.

"Are you happy here?" You ask quietly, not wanting to disturb the peace of the evening as you walk from your parent's house back to your own in the Victor's Village.

"I couldn't be happier." Coryo replies through a soft sigh, swinging your hand gently as it's clasped between you.

"Are you sure?" You say again, feeling a little uncertain despite weeks of his endless reassurance that this was, in fact, what he wanted.

To him, this scenario was perfect. He could keep his job as head gamemaker, planning to only return to the Capitol for a few months or so every year for the Games. He knew that wouldn't last much longer, though, not with Hilarius Heavensbee in office. Coryo gives it a few years and a few major "accidental" mistakes on his part for the viewership of the annual event to die out and open the door for the president to call them off, just like he had always wanted to.

And every day Coryo would wake up to see you in your happy place, the only place you'd ever felt truly at home. He was more than happy to give it all up for the greatest sake of seeing you smile.

"Of course." He smiles, never growing tired of telling you the same thing over and over again if it meant he could ease your mind.

The moonlight bounces off his in a way that makes you think it could be glowing if you didn't know any better.

"I told you that I would be. Years ago. You remember?"

"Of course I remember."

He lets out a breathy laugh at your reply, shaking his head. "That was a foolish question. I don't think you've ever forgotten a single word anyone has ever spoken to you."

"Sure I have." You say, tilting your head as you look up at him, trying to catch the same moonlight reflect in the blue of his eyes as you walk down the path. "I just don't forget... the important bits."

"I will try my best to take care of you while you're here."

"My honest, best advice? Figure out a way to escape."

"I can't have killed them all for nothing."

"You are not a beast."

"Please, don't walk away again."

"I survived because I had to learn to love you."

"Like in your books?" His voice interrupts the swirling of speech from years past, and you shrug.

"Not exactly... it feels different. Because I can hear it, still." You explain, voice dropping into something more quiet as the remnants of your fear eats away at the back of your mind, the cold night breeze imprinting your skin.

"God, the way your mind works, love." He says, and as you look up at him to be met with an expression of pride that always changes everything. "You amaze me every day."

You stay quiet, cheeks getting hot as you look back down at the path.

"Are you happy?" Coryo asks after a moment, eyes never daring to leave your profile as you walk next to him, hardly more than a silhouette in the dark. But certainly more than a ghost, now.

"I am." You reply, the smile creeping back onto your lips. "Such hours are beautiful to live, but hard to describe..."

He hums softly in response. That was a yes, but also a no in the most you fashion possible. His heart remains heavy in his chest knowing that there is nothing more he can do for you to help you heal besides be present. "Is there anything more I can do?" He asks anyway, hoping that maybe you would come up with something.

You shake your head, giving him a tight-lipped smile laced with reassurance.

"Well, then..." He sighs, rather dramatically. "I did have an idea, you know, something that might make you happy. Even just for this one beautiful hour."

You let out a laugh, squeezing his hand a bit. "If that was you asking me if we could-"

"I would like to marry you." He says, for the first time ever, not feeling guilty about interrupting you.

You stop in your tracks, and he stops with you instantly as if he were waiting for it, his hold on your hand not faltering for a second.

"I... you-"

"Darling," He starts, stepping in front of you now, blocking out the moon but hardly putting a dent in the presence of the stars over his shoulders, their soft light reflecting off his blonde curls. "I do love nothing in the world so well as you."

Your shock and confusion begins to wear off as he speaks the familiar words, and you laugh softly. "In your own words, Coryo."

He tilts his head at you, clearly not having expected that kind of response. He expected a lot of things. He planned for everything that could go wrong, he prepared for rejection, for tears, panic, even, but he did not expect that. "I, uh..." He chuckles nervously, giving his head a quick shake to get himself back on track.

He had read that play just for you. Just for this- because he knew how much you loved it, and he remembered the joy it brought you. The smile on your face when you told him about it that day at the lake had never left his mind.

"If you ask me in your own words, I shall say yes." You assure him, hands gripping tighter onto his despite your surprisingly calm demeanor.

"I thought you would like that... You know, knowing you..."

He's quick to defend himself, and your eyes almost sparkle as you look up into his own. "We should have learned by now that our story is our own, yes?" You ask. "We are not Beatrice and Benedick, or Laurie and Amy, or even Romeo and Juliet, just like I used to think we were supposed to be when my days were numbered. I thought I wanted one of those stories to be mine at least once before I died, but I was wrong." You say, taking in the embarrassed flush of his cheeks even in the dim lighting. "You are you, and I am me. No matter what you say I will be happy to marry you, so long as you ask me yourself, and not as someone else."

"Alright then." He gives you a curt nod, a smile on his face as he lowers himself in front of you, careless of the dirt that would no doubt cake into the knee of his pants. "You're everything to me, Y/N/N. My world... my heart, my soul. I didn't know what love was until I met you. I've spent the entirety of my adult life learning to love you, and I never intend to stop. Not even for a moment, so please, let me marry you, love."

"A Coryo indeed." You say softly, recalling the first day you had met him- when you only knew him as Coriolanus, and how far you both had come since then. The growing smile on your lips twitches and you nod, holding his hand a little tighter and attempting to pull Coryo back to his feet. "Of course I will. Nothing would make me happier."

He stands again and very quickly his arms are around you, holding you just as tight as they always had.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls , @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore , @cascadingbliss

if you want to join the taglist for future fics (requiem, michigan cherry, etc.) as well as the bonus content for this fic, follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on post notifs! all i do over there is reblog my own writing, so it's effectively a taglist :)

thanks again for being here.

xx, raye

[steddieas-shegoes]

Request: Hop & Joyce don't really like or trust Steve & he knows it. He can tell by their behavior towards him. Post spring break from Hell, Steve tears into them both after they insinuate that it's his fault for the kids being hurt. Steve YELLING at them in front of the party bc he is injured more grievously than the kids & he once again protected them, to the detriment of himself.

Joyce & Hop are forced to acknowledge that their behavior was cruel. And they have to apologize but Steve doesn't accept their apology straight away.

I am usually such a sucker for Hopper adopting Steve and treating him as his own that this was really difficult. Like, maybe top 5 most difficult things I have ever written. It's kind of short, but I wanted more of the focus to be on people standing up for Steve and Steve standing up for himself than the actual angsty part. My darling, I hope it lives up to expectations! -Mickala ❤️

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“I guess I just don’t understand how Max ended up like this if Steve was supposed to be protecting them all.”

Joyce’s words echoed in Steve’s head.

She was whispering to Hopper in the waiting room, but it was surprisingly quiet, and easy to hear just about anything.

The kids were asleep on the couches, waiting for any news on Max or Eddie, but the nurses told them it could be hours. Hours were a long time to wait when someone was bleeding out and the other someone had multiple broken bones and was unconscious.

Steve felt untethered, his connection to the earth cut the moment he saw what happened to Eddie, pushed into a dangerous orbit when he saw what happened to Max.

“He’s never really let me down like this. Did you hear Dustin say he thinks he was distracted by Eddie?” Hopper asked quietly.

“What did he mean by that?” Joyce paused. “Oh. Do you think so?” Steve couldn’t see their faces, couldn’t see the way they were having a silent conversation within a conversation. “It wouldn’t be the first time Steve let his romantic feelings get in the way of their safety.”

And that really wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t fair because he always put these kids who weren’t even his first whenever he could. It wasn’t fair because it wasn’t his job to be perfect. It wasn’t fair because they were the adults who should have been here to help and they weren’t.

He could feel tears building up, his vision getting just blurry enough that he knew he needed to walk away or he would start actually crying, and he couldn’t let anyone see that.

Especially not Joyce and Hopper.

Apparently, they already thought so little of him, he couldn’t possibly show them that he was struggling now.

“I think we’ll have to have a talk with the kids about trusted adults. They seem to rely on him for a lot and maybe if we just explain to them that Steve can’t handle it-”

“Excuse me, Mr. Hopper?” A nurse, thankfully, interrupted them.

Steve turned to see a young nurse, probably barely older than him, standing in the entranceway to the waiting room.

Hopper walked over to her, actually whispering this time, as if what was being said right now was a secret, but not the way he felt about Steve.

He glanced over at Steve, then nodded to the nurse. He called Joyce over to them, whispered something, then they both looked at Steve.

He hated what was happening. He was used to being a disappointment to adults, but in a silent way. His parents weren’t really ever around long enough to show their disappointment for long. Seeing it now, on the faces of people he respected and wanted to impress, hurt.

Hopper started walking over to him, his face serious.

“They have Max stable. She may not wake up from the coma, but they’re hoping she makes a turn for the better soon. Eddie woke up a few minutes ago while they were trying to stitch him up and he kept yelling for you. He isn’t quite stable yet. He passed back out as they were trying to put him on oxygen.”

“But they’re both alive?”

“For now.”

“Can I see Max?”

“I don’t think that’s a great idea right now. They’re trying to reach her mom, but the phone lines keep going down. I’m standing in as the adult responsible until she can be contacted.”

“So now you want to be the adult responsible? Not any other time when we needed you?” Erica said from behind them.

She’d been asleep with Lucas and El only a minute ago.

“Erica, it’s fine. I’ll just wait with you guys.”

“No, Steve, it’s not fine.” Erica put her hands on her hips, scowled up at Hopper and Joyce, who had just joined them. “Steve looks out for us every day. Even when the world isn’t trying to end. He drives us to school or from school or to the arcade, he pays for our food at the diner all the time, probably spends all his paychecks on us. And where are the parents? They don’t even know where we are most of the time.”

“But-” Joyce started to interrupt until Erica held up her hand.

“You left your kids to fly to Russia when you knew something weird was going on. You could have died, and then what? You know who would have stepped in? Steve. Because that’s what he does for us. Do you know one of his worst concussions was because he was protecting Lucas and Max from Billy? You know he drove Max everywhere she needed to go all year because she didn’t wanna be around anyone else? How about the fact that without him, we wouldn’t have even been able to get Eddie back here? But sure, blame him for this. It totally makes sense to point the finger at the one person who has protected us over and over again.”

Steve was crying.

The other kids were starting to wake up from her voice getting louder as she spoke, and it didn’t take long for them to realize what was happening.

El and Dustin surrounded Steve, cuddling into his sides to comfort him. He needed it, and he was always willing to accept love from the kids. They so rarely gave it, not because they didn’t love him, but because they were at that age where they didn’t want to.

These kids were his in almost every way that mattered, and he was just grateful that they weren’t hesitating when he needed them most.

“You kids could have died. Steve should have never allowed most of this to happen. He’s the adult, and he let you all go into this without even considering you could die.”

“You think we were just gonna sit around and wait for the adults to handle it? When have we ever done that?” Dustin asked incredulously.

“It’s what you should have done. Steve knows that.”

“Mr. Harrington?” A different nurse was standing in the doorway now, older, definitely less nervous.

“Yes?” Steve responded, wiping his tears away quickly.

“Mr. Munson is in a recovery room. He’s woken up a few times for a minute and each time he’s asked for you. Are you family?”

He was pretty certain hospital policy meant only family could go back, especially during natural disasters, so he lied.

“Yes, he’s my cousin. I can’t reach anyone else yet.”

The nurse smiled, though she probably didn’t quite believe him.

“Right this way, then.”

Dustin tugged on his arm.

“Can I come with you?”

“Sorry,” Steve shook his head. “Not yet. Let me check on him, and I’ll come right back out for you.”

“See? This is what I meant about letting his feelings get in the way! What if we weren’t here? Would you just leave the kids to sit out here alone?”

This time, El spoke up.

“Steve is always putting us first. He can put himself first sometimes. That is allowed.”

Steve wanted to hug her again, but the nurse looked like she was going to walk away, and if he didn’t follow her, he wouldn’t see Eddie.

“Go see him, we’ll be here,” Lucas said from next to Erica.

He nodded at them all, giving them a smile before he followed the nurse without looking back at Hopper or Joyce.

Eddie was asleep when they entered the room, so the nurse whispered to him at the door.

“He’s on a lot of morphine, and he’s still receiving a blood transfusion. He may wake up off and on, but he probably won’t make much sense until they lower the dose. Just be here for him,” she smiled before leaving the room.

Steve turned to Eddie and couldn’t hold back more tears.

He’d let him down. He’d let all of them down.

He was supposed to be the hero, despite the jokes about it all, they all knew he was.

But not this time.

Eddie almost died. Max almost died.

He could feel the bat bite on his stomach burning and itching, like it was already getting infected, but he ignored it.

He could wait.

He sat down on the side of the bed, slowly so he wouldn’t wake Eddie up.

But Eddie’s eyes fluttered open once, then twice, then a third time before they managed to stay open enough to see Steve.

“Stevie?” His voice rasped out, a small smile hidden under his oxygen mask. “You’re here.”

“I’m here, Eds.”

He had to be strong, but his brain was so focused on everything he’d done wrong and if he’d just been faster or got out of the vines quicker, Eddie probably wouldn’t be here and Max would be awake and-

“Stop.”

“Hm? Stop what?”

“Bein’ mean.”

Steve’s brows furrowed. He hadn’t even said anything else, had he? Was he so exhausted that he was actually talking without realizing it now?

“I’m not even saying anything.”

Maybe it was Eddie hearing things. He knew morphine was pretty intense.

“To yourself.”

“What?”

“Bein’ mean to yourself. In your head.”

“I-”

“‘S okay. Me too sometimes. Just gotta stop.”

Steve couldn’t help but smile at the way Eddie’s eyes kept drooping closed as he spoke. He would probably fall back asleep any second.

“I’ll be nice. You get some sleep.”

“You rest?”

“Not yet. Maybe later.”

Steve couldn’t really rest until he knew everyone was home, safe, and sleeping off some of the worst of their injuries.

“Yes yet.”

Steve snorted. Eddie was so high. He knew it was better than whatever pain he would feel when they eased him off of everything, but hopefully he wouldn’t remember all this.

“Sleep,” Eddie said, his hand managing to find Steve’s and tugging weakly on it.

“I can’t sleep here, Eds. This is your bed.”

“Our bed.”

Steve’s cheeks were hot, he knew if he touched them, they’d feel like fire. Eddie just had that way of completely rendering Steve speechless. He’d done it so many times over the last couple of days, Steve lost count.

“I’ll stay right here until your uncle gets here, okay?”

“And after?”

It probably wasn’t smart. It would look weird for him to stay in general, but he also had to get the kids home, try to patch himself up at home, maybe shower before he did some rounds and made sure everyone was taken care of.

“I have to take care of the kids.”

“But they have parents.”

“Yeah, well.”

They were interrupted by a knock on the door.

Hopper walked in, face as serious as Steve had ever seen it.

“I was able to contact your uncle, Eddie. You can go now, Steve.”

But Eddie gripped his hand harder, frowning at Hopper. He seemed more awake all of a sudden, but with the way his eyes kept trying to close, Steve could see it was a challenge.

“I want him here.”

“Eds, it’s fine. He’s not too happy with me right now, so-”

“What? Why? You helped save the world.”

Eddie was looking between Steve and Hopper like an answer would suddenly make itself known, but Hopper was just staring at Eddie, and Steve was just staring at his feet.

He didn’t want to get Eddie involved in this. He just wanted to pretend it never happened, maybe try to look Hopper in the eye again someday, and apologize to Joyce for not keeping the kids as safe as he could have.

But Eddie apparently took the “no running” thing very seriously now.

“Steve? What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just. I kinda let them down, didn’t keep everyone safe.”

Steve shrugged it off, but he knew he wasn’t very convincing, or really even shrugging it off. He still felt the ache of disappointing people in his chest.

“Hold the fuck up. You’re serious?”

Eddie sounded as outraged as someone high on morphine could. His voice was barely distorted by the oxygen mask on his face, and his eyes were nearly at their normal size.

Steve couldn’t look at either of them.

“Steve is trusted by all these parents to keep their kids out of danger, and he brought them headfirst into it. It just made Joyce and I wonder how often they were doing stupid things,” Hopper explained, though he didn’t even sound convinced he believed his own words.

Joyce was walking in just as Eddie was about to speak.

“Steve, I think you should bring Dustin home. Claudia is going to get worried.”

He didn’t need to look up to know that Eddie was glaring at Joyce and Hopper.

“Let me get this straight. Steve provides free rides, and babysitting services, and meals, and fun for your kids damn near every day. He protects them during this shit every time it happens, literally puts his body on the line to keep them alive. Tried to somehow keep them as safe as possible when it seemed like the world was ending this time, did keep them alive, and you’re still finding reasons to blame him?”

They both had the decency to at least look like they regretted it.

But they still didn’t say anything.

“Fuck this. I’m not gonna pretend to know everything about your little Upside Down Club, but I’m in it now. None of us wanna be here, but we are. Steve’s been doing his best for years, since he was a kid, and all you can do is complain that your sweet angels aren’t completely unscathed? This is a team effort, you know that. They volunteered. Steve would have had to lock them in a prison cell for them not to help.”

Steve looked up at Eddie, watched as he started to lose the fire that had overtaken him temporarily, his eyes dulling as the morphine dripped into his veins and flushed through his system.

“Best damn babysitter…” Eddie mumbled as his eyes fell closed.

Steve watched him for a moment, waiting to see if he suddenly woke up again. When he didn’t, he stood up slowly, didn’t want to risk him feeling the bed move, and made his way to the door.

But something hurt in his chest, something he knew wouldn’t go away unless he said something.

He turned to see Hopper and Joyce staring at each other, having a silent conversation.

“I’m used to disappointing people. I’ve been disappointing my parents my whole life. Disappointed friends, Nancy, bosses. But I have never let those kids down. I do my best with them. I try to be there for them the way I wish someone had been there for me. I make sure they’re kids because life handed them a shitty card or whatever and they deserve to still be kids. You can be mad at me if you want, but I know I did my best. They know I did my best.”

He didn’t wait for a response, didn’t want to hear them say anything else about how wrong his decisions were.

But Joyce stopped him from leaving the room, hand on his arm.

“Steve, wait. Honey, I’m sorry. I think…I think we got caught up in the moment and just needed someone to blame.”

“You do the best you can. We know you do a lot for them.”

It was nice to hear, but he couldn’t get over the uncomfortable itch in the back of his head that he deserved more than that.

“Thanks, but I don’t think I can accept the apology right now.” And then the anger really set in. It came over him so fast, he could feel his hands shaking. “A lot of things are out of our control. We all wanna blame someone for this stuff, but it just boils down to the same people over and over. Max is in a coma because of Henry Creel, not me. Eddie is in the hospital because of demon bats, not me. Eleven and Will are connected to the Upside Down because of the government, not me. I’m just trying to be whatever they need, and that’s better than I can say for either of you at this point.” Steve left this time, Joyce dropping her hand from his arm halfway through his loud speech.

Okay, he was yelling.

But Eddie slept through it, and it felt good to get all of that out.

He made his way to the waiting room, hoping everyone would still be there so he could check in.

Everything felt too fresh, too much like Vecna could show back up and take any of them at any moment.

But the waiting room was empty, not even Dustin remained.

Steve did his best not to panic. Their parents had all been contacted, so they most likely had just been picked up and brought home.

“They’ve all been picked up, sugar,” an older nurse said from the front desk.

“Oh. Thanks.”

“They left you a note, though.”

He recognized her as the woman who had been here the whole night, handling phone calls and people walking in like she’d been doing this for decades. Maybe she had been.

He walked over and grabbed it from her, giving her a small smile in thanks.

He walked outside before he opened it, not sure why he was suddenly nervous.

But as he read, he felt tears in his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

Steve- Go home and sleep. We’ll be okay for a day while you rest. You don’t ever do that. We don’t agree with Joyce and Hopper, and we hope you know you’re the best damn babysitter ever. Love, Dustin, Lucas, Erica, El, Will, Mike, and Max (if she could)

He folded up the note, put it in his pocket, and walked to his car.

He ignored the blood in the backseat, rolled his windows down to ignore the stench of iron.

Knew he would be spending most of his day tomorrow trying to clean the stains out, but figured it would be a good mindless task.

He thought about Eddie, about how quick he was to defend him. About how he’d gripped his hand like it was a lifeline.

It felt that way to Steve.

He hadn’t let Eddie down. He’d saved Eddie.

If he didn’t do anything else right, he’d done that, and nothing Joyce or Hopper said could take that away.