#her nickname is “Sunrise”

[rainbowangel110]

Some art I drew 👉👈

[vampiefemme]

𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭 | 𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

description: you’ve been getting closer to ellie lately and, unbeknownst to you, your blossoming crush is entirely reciprocated. cue your first smoke sesh together… and a little something more, too. [modern au, ellie and reader are both over 18]

warnings: weed use, oral sex, fingering. this fic is 18+, minors do not interact.

author’s note: my first ellie fic and my first fic on this blog! pls be nice :) let me know what you think <3

The first few times you hung out with Ellie, she’d offered you a joint. It’s no secret that Ellie’s the town’s top dealer, a welcome sight at rowdy house parties, her backpack stuffed with ziplock bags of the best bud around. You’d tried weed before, had taken a puff or two from poorly-rolled blunts here and there, but you’d never particularly enjoyed it. Mostly, you’d just coughed up a lung and felt nothing but a vague lightheadedness. So when Ellie rolled up a joint the first time you’d come over to her place, offering you a drag after she’d sparked up, you’d politely declined.

Ellie had arched a brow. “You mind if I smoke? Shit - I can put it out.”

Before you’d had the chance to respond, she was already reaching for the ashtray on her nightstand, ceramic and painted to resemble an eight-ball.

“No, no, it’s fine,” you interjected, reaching out and touching her wrist almost involuntarily. You pushed down the flurry of butterflies that erupted in your stomach at the contact. God, you had to be touch-starved or something. Since when did touching someone’s arm make your heart skip a beat?

Ellie looked at you with a guarded kind of suspicion, like she didn’t believe that you were fine with her smoking. “You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you said, lips curling into an encouraging smile. “I don’t mind weed, it just doesn’t do anything for me.”

“Huh.” Ellie nodded. She lifted the joint to her lips again and you glanced away, chest tightening from the sight of her lips pursing.

“If you ever wanna try again,” she paused to exhale a plume of smoke, intentionally avoiding your direction, “let me know. Not to, like, toot my own horn or anything, but I’ve never had someone try my weed and not like it.”

You let out an easy laugh. “Okay, we’ll have to see about that.”

Ellie was smiling at you, those green eyes twinkling like so many stars. “No pressure.”

That was months ago, when the summer heat still blazed from sunrise to sunset. It’s mid-winter now, the chill nipping at your cheeks and the end of your nose. To your agony, it hasn’t gotten any easier to breathe when you touch Ellie - when she greets you with a hug and a smile at her front door, you feel like you’re paralyzed with want. And Ellie’s probably none the wiser, of course. You wonder if she’s ever noticed the way your breath hitches when she stretches out on the couch beside you, leaning her head on your shoulder while some tacky eighties film lights up the television screen. You figure she’s oblivious - she’s just being friendly. She probably doesn’t even know you like girls, anyway. Plus, she doesn’t shy away from talking about the girls she’s been with before. You’ve spent more than a few nights seething with jealousy as she recounted her latest hookup, schooling your expression into one of disinterest or even mild enthusiasm.

It’s been a while since she’s talked like that, luckily. You’re grateful you don’t have to feign excitement about Ellie’s latest conquests anymore.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Ellie interrupts your internal monologue, hands still working at the joint in her lap. She’s got a pile of ground-up weed on a rolling tray, sprinkling it into the perfectly-rolled cone like it’s muscle memory. It probably is.

“Nothing,” you blurt, cheeks warming. “Sorry, just zoned out for a second.”

“Oh, bullshit,” Ellie quips, rolling her eyes despite the smile playing at her lips. “What, you can’t tell me? I thought we were friends, cherry.”

You flush anew at the nickname. She’d picked it out for you after you’d scarfed down an entire jar of maraschino cherries one night, after Ellie had bought them for ice cream sundaes. You’d never live that down… But you’re not sure you want to, because every time the nickname leaves Ellie’s lips, you feel like you’re glowing bright red with admiration.

“We are friends!” You nudge Ellie’s shoulder with yours, rolling your eyes with that same playfulness she’d expressed. “Sorry, it’s just - it’s embarrassing.”

Ellie narrows her eyes. It’s like you can see the cogs turning in her head. “Embarrassing? What, you got a crush on some guy or something?”

You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, she’s prattling on again. “Y’know, just ‘cause I’m gay doesn’t mean you can’t talk to me about your crushes. Swear I won’t be weird about it.”

Oh god.

“It’s not - I’m not…” You sigh, gaze lowering to your lap, where you’re fiddling with your hands. Should you tell her? You should probably tell her.

“I like girls, you know.”

It’s quiet for so long that you need to look up at Ellie to make sure she’s still there, still listening. And she is; her eyes are glued to you, wide in disbelief.

“What?” You feel like a bug under a microscope with her looking at you like that. “Is it that hard to believe?”

Ellie shakes her head emphatically. “No, no - it’s not. I just didn’t expect that.”

She turns away to finish rolling the joint, twisting the very end of the paper until it forms a little point. “Guess you’re just full of surprises, huh, cherry?”

You bite your lip to stifle a smile, but Ellie sees it anyway.

“So who’s the lucky girl?” She asks, rummaging through her pocket until she finds her lighter. You watch Ellie spark the joint, the twisted end catching fire until the cherry starts to glow. Ellie takes a few puffs and the scent of smoke tickles your nose.

“I’d prefer not to say,” you tell her, chewing on the inside of your lip. Your nerves are off the wall; you’re so anxious that the joint in Ellie’s slender fingers is suddenly tempting.

Ellie scoffs. “Boring.”

She looks up at you as she flicks ash off the end of the joint, and when she notices you eyeing it, her brows lift.

“Want some? Will that make you spill?”

You huff a nervous laugh, toying with the ends of your hair. “No… I don’t know. Maybe?”

Ellie whoops, her free hand curling into a fist of victory. “Fuck yeah. Here, take it.”

She offers you the joint and you take it, but not without a moment or two of hesitation. You will the anxiety away with the thought that you probably won’t feel anything. Ellie watches as you bring the joint to your lips and inhale, praying you won’t cough and make a fool of yourself. Especially not with Ellie watching so intently.

By the grace of some kind of divine being, you don’t cough. Your throat tickles, and you feel emboldened to take one more hit, letting the smoke fill your lungs. You imagine your body relaxing, the knot in your stomach unwinding. You hand the joint back to Ellie and she takes a puff of her own, her lips curled into the faintest little smirk.

“So…” Ellie trails off expectantly.

“God, you’re persistent,” you groan. She just peers at you knowingly from behind a veil of smoke.

“There’s not much to tell,” you say. “I’ve had a crush on this girl for a while now, but I don’t think she feels the same.”

“Have you asked her?” Ellie prompts, flicking ash off the joint.

You shake your head. “No way.”

“Then,” Ellie pauses to take another hit, “how do you know she doesn’t feel the same?”

You should be feeling anxious with her drilling you like this - you know you should. Usually, you’d be retreating into yourself with every prodding question Ellie asks. But all you feel now is yearning; there’s an ache in your chest that only she can remedy. And, clearly, Ellie’s clueless about it.

You don’t want her to be clueless, you realize.

The words leave your lips before you can think better of them. “Do you, Ellie?”

Her brows knit together, forming a crease that you’ve memorized by now - like every other freckle and wrinkle on her face. “Huh? Do I what?”

You reach for the joint and she yields it without question.

“Do you feel the same about me?”

The weed has certainly helped with your nerves, you think, watching Ellie’s expression shift from confusion to realization. Her plush lips part, but all that comes out is a series of stammers and false sentence starts: “I—you—what?”

Fuck it, you think. You stretch out to reach the nightstand beside Ellie’s bed, leaving the joint in one of the ashtray’s notches. A steady stream of smoke ribbons upward from the fading cherry.

“Ellie,” you start, settling back into your place on the rug. You look at her to find her already staring at you, blinking. “It’s you. I have a crush on you. It’s been—”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Ellie interjects, voice softer than you’d expected.

You blink. “I didn’t want to ruin our friendship, I guess. And you always talked about other girls, so I thought you just… Weren’t interested.”

“Cherry.” Ellie sits up on her knees so she can get closer to you, the sleeves of her oversized flannel slipping down to her forearms as she reaches out and grabs your face. Her touch is gentle but firm, insistent. You can feel the callouses on her fingers against your skin, her thumbs brushing up against your cheekbones, and the air is suddenly so thin you can hardly inhale.

“I have… I’ve had feelings for you for so long. So fucking long, cherry.” Ellie’s gaze is intense, eyes boring into you. You feel exposed, raw, alive with something electric.

You stare right back at her, frozen in her grasp.

“But you were always talking about other girls,” you say. Doubt lingers in the back of your head; this is too good to be true. Right?

“I know, fuck, I’m sorry,” Ellie sighs. “I thought you weren’t interested in me. Thought it was hopeless, y’know? My perfect best friend having feelings for me? Unreal.”

One of Ellie’s hands smooths over your hair; it’s something she’s done plenty of times before, but it feels different now. More intimate, with your shared confessions between you.

“Wanna know something?” Ellie asks then plows on, not really waiting for an answer, “I stopped hooking up with other girls a while ago. I just… Couldn’t.”

You nod in understanding. Your eyelids feel heavy all of the sudden, each blink heavier than the last.

“They weren’t you,” Ellie adds.

They weren’t you, her words echo in your mind.

“Ellie,” you breathe. Her face is impossibly close; you can pick out every detail of her face. Each pore, each freckle, each fleck of brown in her green eyes. You can smell the weed smoke on her breath.

“Cherry,” she responds, voice hushed just as low as yours. “Cherry. Can I kiss you?”

“God, yes,” you practically whine.

When Ellie kisses you for the first time, she tastes like relief.

Her lips are soft and insistent against yours, the pad of her thumb warm against your cheek as you lean in closer to kiss her back. It’s like time has gone still; the hum of the speaker on Ellie’s dresser fades away, as does the sound of the winter winds hissing and whooshing against the window. All you know is Ellie: her hand slipping down the length of your back to grab your hip, her mouth hot and needy against yours. It’s a desperate sort of kiss, one that you’d both been yearning for, and months of pining drain from your mouth to hers, then back again.

You’re not sure if you’d been kissing for seconds or hours when Ellie finally breaks away, gasping.

“Fuck,” she whispers. The tip of her nose brushes against your cheek, then your nose. “We should stop, before I…”

She trails off but you know exactly what she’d left unsaid. And your stomach flips in response; the mere thought of what else Ellie might do with her mouth has your cunt throbbing.

Ellie’s hand leaves your hip and it’s like she’s left a burn there - one shaped like her touch, a scathing outline on your skin.

“I don’t want to stop,” you find the courage to admit.

You’re not sure who makes the first move this time - only that you’re kissing again, swallowing Ellie’s pleased moans as your tongue prods between her lips. You gasp and pant into each other’s mouths, hands roaming on newly discovered skin; Ellie’s hands slip beneath your tee, her palms hot against your abdomen, your hips, your lower back. When her fingers find the clasp of your bra and unfasten it, you practically shiver with anticipation, back arching into her touch.

“Whoa there,” Ellie laughs, nudging her nose against yours. You go in for another kiss, annoyed that she’d stopped, but she pulls back. “You’re sure you want this, cherry?”

“Please,” you say, taking advantage of the moment to pull your shirt over your head and set it aside. You toss your bra into the growing pile, turning back to Ellie to find her gaping at you.

“Christ,” she says, licking her lips, “you’re fucking perfect.”

She gives you one last heated kiss before her mouth moves to your jawline, then the column of your neck, where she leaves a trail of wet kisses. She sucks on a spot right on the crook of your neck, just shy of leaving a hickey, and your toes fucking curl.

Ellie only gives a low hum of approval at your reaction before she’s moving lower, lower. Her kisses cover your breasts, every inch of skin worshipped by her lips until she finally takes a peaked nipple into her mouth. You feel her tongue swirl against the sensitive bud and you nearly cry from the pleasure, one hand flying up to knot into her hair and tug.

Her gaze moves up to meet yours, and your cunt tightens again at the look of unbridled desire in her eyes - her lids are heavy, too, but you can’t tell if it’s from the weed or sheer lust. Maybe both, you’re not sure, but you don’t have much time to consider it before Ellie’s moving to your other nipple, tongue laving against the taut flesh before she closes her mouth around it and sucks. A ragged moan tears from your throat and you tense, tugging again at the locks of Ellie’s hair in your fist.

She leaves your nipples flushed and sensitive, shining with saliva, and you’re suddenly very aware of the layers of clothes separating you from her. Separating the wetness of your cunt from hers, the bony curve of her hips from your needy mouth. You need those layers gone.

“Ellie,” you whine, pulling at the collar of her flannel.

“Shh, I know,” she coos, voice dripping with syrupy sweet lust. “Why don’t you get on the bed for me, hm?”

You nod and oblige, but not without stopping to slip out of your jeans. You leave your panties on because, well, they’re cute. A white lace thong with a tiny, silky pink bow just below your navel - Ellie’s eyes linger there as she stands at the edge of the bed, unbuckling her belt and stepping out of her cargos. You can feel the wet patch on your panties as you press your thighs together and watch her undress. She’s always been on the thinner side, but as she slides off her flannel and pulls her sports bra over her head, you realize that she’s much more toned than you’d imagined. Her arms flex with each movement and her abdomen is clearly taut with muscle; every inch of new skin she reveals only adds to the agonizing desire churning in your stomach.

Luckily, she seems just as eager as you are. She’s still in a pair of oversized plaid boxers when she grabs hold of your hips and yanks you toward the edge of the bed, pulling your knees apart so she can see what’s between them.

“Look at you,” she says, eyes wide at the sight of your soaked panties. “I didn’t realize you were so needy, cherry. Should’ve let me take care of you sooner.”

Her words send another gush of arousal flooding from your cunt, your stomach twisting. “‘M sorry, Ellie.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she says, lowering herself onto her knees before you. Her fingers hook beneath the lace of your panties to pull them down, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the rug.

Her face sinks between your legs, and the first stroke of her tongue against your folds makes you shiver with relief.

“Oh my god,” you gasp. Ellie moans against your pussy, tongue splitting through your folds, spreading your wetness with every swipe and lick. Your back arches involuntarily, your toes curling in sheer pleasure.

She laps at your cunt like a woman starving, hot tongue drawing circles around your puffy clit. It’s maddening, the way she knows exactly what you need, speeding up and slowing down in accordance with your moans and sighs and whimpers. You’ve never felt so close so quickly, but you don’t want it to stop - her mouth is magic between your legs, and as you hurtle towards your orgasm, she slips a finger into your clenching hole. You nearly scream.

“Ellie,” you moan shakily, your thighs tightening on both sides of her head. “Ellie, I’m gonna…”

She just moans again, mouth working at your clit while her finger sinks in and out of your cunt. She adds another not long after and it’s hardly a stretch with how wet you are. You’re trembling with every stroke of her tongue against your clit, and soon enough, you feel yourself slipping off the edge into oblivion. Your orgasm tears through you like never before, hot and electric, every muscle tensing as Ellie finger-fucks you through every wave of pleasure. Eventually, you push the heel of your hand against her forehead, too overstimulated for her to keep sucking at your too-sensitive clit. She pulls back and sits on her heels, fingers leaving the tight grip of your cunt as she wipes her mouth with her other hand. Your slick covers her from the nose down, the shining evidence of how good she’d made you feel.

“So fucking pretty when you come,” Ellie tells you, standing up and lifting a knee onto the bed beside you. Her hair is a mess, you’d made sure of it, but she doesn’t seem to notice or care.

“Think you’ve got a few more for me?” She smiles at you, wolfish and wicked, and her hand moves to grope at one of your tits.

“Mm,” you hum, reaching out for her. “Only if you have a few for me.”

When she’s close enough, you slip your hand between Ellie’s legs, your fingers brushing through sparse curls to find the heat of her folds. She’s soaked, you realize with self-satisfaction, your tongue swiping over your lower lip.

This will be fun.

[daphwritesworld]

#23 A. Russo— all to you. 

content: face sitting(A receiving), thigh riding (r receiving), scissoring, lots of kissing lol, fingering (r receiving), kinda public sex(only for a short flashback), lovey-dovey type shit, top!Alessia, bottom!reader

warnings: bathroom sex in a flashback, Alessia humping your face should get its own warning so there you go, hitting your knee like an idiot, talks of marriage, Alessia in a "kiss the cook" apron lol

synopsis: After spending two months away in The States with your family– you’re finally flying back home to England. To your Alessia.

word count: 4.6k

!! MINORS DNI!! 18+ CONTENT

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The sunrise bleeding in through the cracked blinds is what you notice first. The little beams of light interrupt the first real night of sleep you’ve gotten in the past two months. You’ve been away visiting your family. Two months usually wouldn’t have been that bad…if you were in the same time zone. keyword: ‘if.’

Going back to the States wasn’t bad— you love it back home. Being so close to your family, old friends, old stomping grounds, the completely different scenery, and the nostalgic restaurants all hold a special place in your heart. You’d of course enjoyed yourself on the trip, but nothing can compare to the longing of wanting to be back in Alessia’s arms. The days spent away were counted down in matching pocket calendars– one for you and the other for your girlfriend. Little notes of encouragement, inside jokes, and love poured out onto each date you’d be separated. You both decided to write them for each other and switch at the airport before you boarded your flight, promising not to look until the next day to check a box off. 

The day you came back to her finally arrived yesterday. She’d waited at the airport with her family, a cheesy sign with your name written on it and balloons attached. As soon as they saw you it was screams and hollers. Alessia moving so fast you felt her before you even had time to lift your head to their greeting. You let out a small yelp as she hoisted you into the air, her arms wrapping around your waist to keep you secured against her. Your hands cupped her cheeks and you leaned down to place a soft kiss on her lips, pulling away after a couple of seconds— much to your girlfriend’s dismay. She pouts at you before trying to chase after your lips again, this time being met with your hand and a whispered shout, “Alessia Russo, I am not letting you shove your tongue down my throat with your family 15 feet away!”

She rolled her eyes at that, setting your feet back on the ground before latching her arms back around you. Pulling you closer to her as a small smile broke out across her lips, “Oh, but you’ll let me finger you in the bathroom at Christmas, is that it?” 

Your cheeks heat up instantly at the mention of the memory. Alessia had invited you over for Christmas with her family three years ago (when you two were “just friends”). You’d been left all alone in England since your flight was canceled due to bad weather, nowhere else but your empty apartment to go. And she couldn’t let such a pretty girl stay alone on such a joyful holiday, so she called her mom and made sure there was a plate set at the table long before she’d even convinced you to come that night. You’d both been dancing around each other for months: flirting, nicknames, and basically eye fucking at practice, but so so oblivious to the other’s intentions. But two glasses of Advocaat and some hanging mistletoe is all it takes for her to get you in the bathroom of her childhood home. One hand covered your mouth as the other fucked three fingers into your pussy, while the sounds of Christmas music and living room chatter drowned out to the both of you in your own world.

Before you can reprimand her with more than a soft whack to the shoulder, her brothers are running over to wrap you in a hug and telling their sister to stop “hogging the favorite.” her parents wrapped you up in a hug, too. Telling you how miserable and grumpy Alessia had been since you’d left.

“I-I was not!”

 You just smiled at the sounds of her siblings and her arguing as you all walked your way out. So happy to finally be back where you belong. Your real home– right here with your Alessia. You felt her hand slip into yours as you approached the doors. You said your goodbyes and promised to visit soon before she was leading you off to the car. The entire ride home was spent telling her all about your months spent back in The States. The phone calls when one of you would stay up late or wake up super early just to speak for an hour or less didn’t do enough justice. Her hand rested on your thigh the entire way, rubbing circles and little patterns into your skin as you spoke. She could listen to you all day, just happy to finally hear your voice in person and not through a speaker or her headphones. They could never pick up the true essence of your laugh or the crinkle in your nose when you do. 

Now in the comfort of your own bed, your hands search out across the sheets on instinct— a frown gracing your features as you feel the cold bed beneath your fingertips. You crack your eyes open, blinking a few times as they adjust to the daylight. You stretch your arms out as you sit up, the cold breeze through the house lighting goosebumps across your skin. You shiver as you hop off the bed, reaching down for Alessia’s oversized shirt that was thrown to the floor the previous night. The memories come flooding back in flashes as you slip it over your head. Your freshly hardened nipples sensitive to the material as it brushes against them. 

You barely had time to get through the front door before she had you pressed up against it. The way her lips were glued to your sweet spots, her hands gripping every part of you they touched, and how you two stumbled up the stairs because you wouldn’t pull away from making out on the way to your bedroom. The candles lit around the space, the pink and white rose petals sprinkled across the duvet, and the way she kissed her way down your whole body as she tore your panties off with a loud rip. She never was very patient...especially when it comes to your pussy.  

You flash back to the present as the smell of bacon hints in your nose. Your feet move and your stomach rumbles as you quietly make your way downstairs. Seeing Alessia in her “kiss the cook” apron, making a tray of food for you. It almost has you sneaking back up into bed so she could surprise you, but the growling monster in your stomach wins as you slowly come up behind her, wrapping your arms around the taller girl. 

“no no no! I was gonna surprise you with breakfast in bed,” she whines with a pout on her lips as she turns around to face you. Her hands resting on your hips as yours go to wrap around her neck, pulling her down for a morning kiss.

“There, that fixed your face!” you say as you pat her cheek before stealing a piece of bacon from behind her on the counter. 

“I’m serious, Amore mio! I wanted to treat you today after being away for so long.” 

“You still can though, Baby,” you say as she sits you up on the counter beside her as she cooks. “Don’t gotta get your knickers in a twist,” the awful British accent leaves your lips with a giggle as you swing your foot to hit her on the butt. 

She puts her spatula down to bring her fingertips to your sides, tickling you relentlessly as you squirm around laughing loudly. The tears welling up in your eyes a clear sign of not being able to escape her assault, “Okay! Okay! St-Stop! I’m sorry, Less– I’m sorry!” 

She pulls you into her chest, arms wrapping around your middle and stepping between your knees. The big smile on her face never falters as she just rests her forehead against yours, taking this intimate moment in and soaking it up for all it’s worth. Her eyes are scanning across your face, and you wish in times like these you could read her pretty mind. Just wanting a glimpse into what’s behind those crystal blue eyes that enchant you every time they gaze into yours. 

“How’d you manage to get even more gorgeous whilst away?” It’s barely above a whisper when she says it, her hands coming up to lightly trace over your face. Her fingers run across your cheeks, lips, and jaw. It’s all too much for you at the moment, so overwhelmed with love for her. So you lean forward and place your lips on hers, and it takes both of your breaths away. It’s different than the ones you shared last night. There’s no urgency in your movements and no harshness behind them. Her tongue slides into your mouth when you gasp from the way she lightly nips at your bottom lip, still moving at a slow pace. The smell of burning food breaks you back into reality a bit, trying to pull away as she chases your lips closely.

“The food, Alessia,” you manage to get the words out between kisses, never fully able to get her lips off of yours completely.

She groans out into your mouth before backing away, turning off the stove eye, and moving the pan to rest on a cold one. She doesn’t even say anything before she brings a hand behind your neck to pull your mouth back onto hers. The fire in your belly is roaring, begging for her touch and to touch her. 

“Mmm, upstairs,” It’s not a question when you say it. She supports your middle with her arms before hoisting you off the counter, your legs wrapping around her waist on instinct as she carries you to your destination. 

When she reaches the bed there’s no throwing you down, and clawing your clothes off. She’s connecting your lips as she slowly lays you down on the sheets, following your body with her own. A hand comes up to caress the back of your neck as she deepens the kiss. Your knees spread for her body to align with yours like a puzzle piece, fitting together perfectly and in rhythm with one another. The hand behind your neck starts slipping around front, keeping a loose hold on your neck as she pulls back just enough so you can both breathe for a second. 

“Please fuck me, Baby,” it comes out airy and breathless as your chest rises and falls rapidly. 

“No.” 

You feel like your world’s crashing down. No? Did she tell you…No? Like as in N-O.. no?

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” she says it while holding your face in her hands. You think she’s being cruel, punishing you for a stupid joke accent, or the fact you woke up early and spoiled her surprise for you. Pulling you back into a mind-reeling kiss, and desperately searching for a reason she’d tease you and wind you up like this just to leave you high and dry. 

“I’m gonna make love to you,” your eyes snap up to her. Mind quieting and drowning out all your worries and complaints. Your breath hitches as she says it and you swear your heart swells up twice its size. “Let me show you how much I missed you, Amore mio.” 

You’re nodding your head as a quiet moan rolls off your tongue at her words, connecting your lips once again as her hands start rubbing up your sides. They slip under your (really her) shirt draped over you, the only thing separating her from your naked body. Goosebumps rise behind in the path of her hands, your skin feeling electric from her touch. She moves down your body as she gets up on her knees, untying her apron and throwing it somewhere into the room. She’s lifting your shirt as she peels it off your body. Her lips leave kisses in the journey up as your flesh is being revealed. She nips a little harder on your soft spots, leaving behind love bites in her wake. Little reminders of where she’d been and how her love poured out of her and onto your skin. When the shirt is being brought over your head and blocking your view, she brings one of your nipples into her mouth. Your hands go to the back of her head to bring her closer to your chest, arching into her mouth. The pleasure only multiplies when she laughs around your bud, pulling back as you whine out from the feeling. 

“Move your hands for a second, Love. Lemme get this off you,” there are kisses left on your boobs as she says it. Taking your hands into hers as she places them beside your head, and leans down slowly to almost connect your lips. But she just hovers over them for a second, breathing in the same air as each other. She pulls back with a smirk when you try to push yourself up, and then she slips the shirt over your head, throwing it back to its home on the floor of your bedroom. 

Her lips are on your collarbone as she slips a knee between your legs, resting against your naked pussy. Wet kisses are tracing back down to your other nipple this time. The warmth of her mouth around it is intoxicating, your tits extra sensitive since they’d been neglected for so long. She looks up at your face once she notices your body has a mind of its own, grinding up against her thigh as sinful sounds flow from your mouth. Another laugh rips through her, and to both of your surprise, it sends you into an orgasm. Not a super hard or intense one, but still enough to have your eyes closing and your legs trying to close around hers. 

Alessia looks down and groans loudly at the sight. Your creamy cunt making a mess on her sweatpants, some white cum streaking the grey fabric along with the giant wet stain taking up a majority of her thigh. 

She’s entranced by the sight, jumping when she feels your hands on her neck. You’re pulling her into a searing kiss as her hand comes up to play with your messy pussy. “No, Less. Wanna make you feel good, too. Please baby,” you break the kiss as your hand stops hers. 

“How do you want me then?” 

“Wanna taste you, please.” 

So she hops off the bed and strips herself naked, but you don’t expect her to push you back down as she climbs up onto your body. Usually, she’d just guide your head with a hand in your hair against her cunt, but not today. Oh no. Today she’s resting her knees beside your head as she massages your scalp for a second. 

“Ready, Love?” 

“Hurry up and sit on my fucking face!”

She laughs out a cackle a that, a true hearty laugh. Then she’s sinking down onto your awaiting mouth, resting her weight down onto your face. You swear you could die right now between her legs, and they’d find you with a smile on your face. The taste of her sets off a primal moan to take over you, your eyes rolling back as she grinds down onto your tongue. Alessia always makes the prettiest noises while getting fucked, you could spend hours pleasuring her body and you’d cum just from the sounds she makes alone. Her hands find your hair as yours find her thighs, both squeezing and holding on for dear life as she speeds up her movements. The beds starting to squeak, reminiscent of how she knocked the headboard into the wall last night and left a small indention. 

Your hands move up from her thighs to her tits, rolling her nipples between your fingers as her clit starts humping repeatedly into your nose. Every one of your senses is overwhelmed with just “Alessia” as you take your tongue and start fucking her with it, drunk off the idea of getting her to cum like this. The view is breathtaking above you; Alessia with her head thrown back, back arching as your hands work magic on her chest, and her toned stomach flexing with every roll of her hips above you. 

It’s then when you moan again into her pussy that she’s cumming in your mouth, letting the nastiest words roll off her tongue, “La mia piccola troia, swallow it all! Take what I give you Carino mio.”

Wanting to please her, you make sure to suck up every drop that comes out of her. Your tongue slips out of her to clean up, an extra flick to her clit as you finish. She’s pulling away after that, flopping onto the bed beside you trying to catch her breath. One arm pulls you onto her chest, placing a kiss on your hairline as she rubs your bare back. “You did so good for me, Love. Made me feel so fucking good. Better than anyone ever has  .”

​​

You lift your head at that, a blush on your cheeks from her words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, Baby,” It’s let out with a smile gracing her lips and a twinkle in her eye. She’s throwing her head to the side with a loud sigh after a moment, “Fuck you’re so pretty! I can never get enough of you, you know”

You sit up at this, straddling her lap as you swing a leg over her. Taking both of her hands into yours as you interlock them, and bringing them up for a tender kiss to her knuckles. “You’re prettier, Lessie. A worldwide splendida ragazza.” you were praying you didn’t butcher the pronunciation, having spent those two months away studying Italian every night. 

You see tears welling up in her eyes and you instantly frown, opening your mouth to apologize for upsetting her. “I’m sorry, Less. I thought I could learn it-” but you’re cut off by her soft lips on yours. All the emotions and pent-up frustrations from missing each other poured into this one shared kiss. 

“Ti amo, Amore mio bellissimos.” She says it right against your lips, a few of her tears running down between your lips. The saltiness only adds to the passion of the lip lock. “Ti amo tanto,” you reply to her. As you’re lifting one of her legs and slipping one of yours beneath it, you drop your cunt against hers. Both of you let out a moan at the sudden contact. Alessia’s hands find your hips as she starts guiding your movements, controlling your body because she knows it better than you do. Your fingers couldn’t make you cum while you were away, nothing could. Because she has ruined you for anybody else, your pleasure is only loyal to her now. “Look at us, Amore mio. Look how messy we make each other. How much we love and miss each other.”

You look between you, the way both of your thighs are covered in slick. Your puffy clits bump together with every roll of your hips. You feel too far away from her, even though you’re so close. So your hands reach out and pull her closer, lips finding one another again. They’re red, swollen, and sore at this point, but neither of you cares. Too lost in each other to even register the slight pain. 

Your legs start getting tired as your orgasm approaches, slowing down as the pain of that at least catches up with you. Alessia notices and pulls away from your lips, “Wrap your arms around me, Love.” And you do it without question, no idea why she wants you to, but trusting her completely anyway. 

Within seconds you’re squealing as she flips you two over on the mattress, blonde hair cascading down to frame her face perfectly. You swear with the sunlight shining in she looks like a proper angel, a halo surrounding her head in the morning daze. Her hands lift and situate your body exactly how she wants it. She’s got her hips slamming back into yours in no time, the sound of skin slapping and the words of praise passing between the two of you fills up the room. Your arms are around her neck pulling her down to be chest to chest with you, just wanting her to suffocate you honestly. If you could crawl into her skin you would, but alas this is the closest you’ll ever get. You swear you can feel your hearts beat in synch like this, the thumping of your them so loud in your chests it’s making your body tingle. Her hands find your hips, rubbing circles into them as a way to ground you. Her lips leave kisses up the side of your neck, stopping to nip at your jaw. 

“Cum for me, Love.” her lips trail down to your ear, letting out a groan as she tugs on your earlobe with her teeth, “La moglie futura mia.”

Finally understanding the term of endearment is what does it for you. You’d heard her call you that a million times and never thought of it, having slipped your mind with all the other nicknames she gives you. Your legs start shaking and your grip on her neck tightens, making sure she stays pressed against you the whole time. “My Future Wife,” replays in your head over and over as the pleasure from your orgasm wrecks through your body. Screams of “Te Amo!” “I love you” and “Less” all come out mixed as the wires in your brain start crossing the two languages and the girl who speaks them.

You can’t stop the butterflies from exploding in your tummy as you realize she said that to you for the first time at her family’s Christmas all those years ago. That’s how she’d introduced you to them as they welcomed you both in the door, a big grin on her face. “This is, (y/n). La moglie future mia.” Now all the hugs and promises to return each year as you two were leaving make a little more sense.

She doesn’t stop her hips, chasing her own high as she feels it approaching. “Come on,” she rubs her hands on your forearms gently, “Let me see your pretty face when I cum, Darlin.” You whine a little at the thought of her pulling away, but nonetheless let her guide your arms away. She reconnects your hands together and lays them above you, eyes focusing on the way your mouths open and panting for her. The sweat dripping down your brow and all the small details in your face show off the way she’s making you feel. All of it’s rolling in her stomach, the pit of fire growing by the second. 

“Cum for me,” it’s breathless as you say it, her eyes instantly finding yours. “La moglie futura mia,” it’s a sentiment that you’re only now able to return. The weight of the words and the fact you spoke them back to her is overwhelming. Her hips stutter into yours, and her eyes shut as she crashes her lips back down onto yours. Moaning into your mouth as her orgasm washes over her, rolling in waves as she slows her pace to a stop. 

For a while you’re both just lying there, her head on your chest and your fingers playing in her hair. The sounds of you both trying to regain a normal breathing pattern is slowly trying to lull you to sleep. So at peace in the comfortable silence and the safety of having Alessia in your arms– exactly where she should be. She lifts her head up, trailing some kisses down before resting her chin on your stomach. “Can I bring your tray of food to you in bed now?” 

It’s all really a blur till then for you. Your body is so so tired, your eyes getting heavier as the minutes tick by. You’re almost fully asleep by the time she comes back, only responding to her in grunts and hums. She chuckles at you as she moves your body to sit up against the headboard, propping a pillow behind you for extra comfort.

 “Alright, at least eat your toast or drink some juice. Your body needs some energy after that,” It’s soft when she says it. Her lips press feather-light kisses to your face as your eyes start to crack open. She’s got that damn apron on again and you shake your head at that, a laugh bubbling out of your lips. Your Alessia�� butt naked except for her “Kiss The Cook” apron wrapped around her body. The tray placed over your legs takes your attention next. Despite being sleepy you are super hungry, even more than when you first ventured downstairs to steal a piece of bacon. You shake your head in agreement before reaching towards your plate, but your fingers hit something velvety on the edge of the tray stopping you. You focus your eyes a bit, squinting till the sun adjusts for your sight, and that’s when you see it. The small blue box is set right before your plate. Your heart rate picks up and you look over at Alessia with a confused look on your face. 

“Open it, Caro.” She says it with so much endearment you can’t help but smile. 

When you open it up it’s a beautiful ring. A gold band adorned with the gemstone of your birth month. Your eyes widen at the gesture, tears filling them before you turn to face your girlfriend. She’s wiping them away with her fingers, reaching down to take your hands into hers.

“Marry me, (y/n). It doesn’t have to be now, in a year, or even five. Just promise me that you’ll be la mogile futura mia.”

“Of course, I’ll marry you, Less!” You’re gasping and jumping up– right before your knees hit the tray you forgot about and you’re letting out a cry of pain from the commotion. Your hands come up to hide your face, a blush deepening as embarrassment sets in. “Shit! That seriously fucking hurt!” 

You’re only met with a laugh and her hands pulling yours away from your face. You look back at her when you feel the ring being slipped onto your finger, her eyes never leaving yours as she does so. “Looks like you’re inheriting the Russo family clumsiness already, Love.” 

She takes a second to move the tray of food off of the bed before returning. Her lips come down, kissing your knees where they’d been hurt as she rubs soothing shapes into your calves. Once she’s satisfied with her work she moves back up and throws her body on top of yours, wrapping your limbs around each other as the reality starts to set in: You’re engaged to be married. 

“I can’t believe we’re gonna be a family, Less!” it’s a whispered shout– the excitement doubling as you bring your hand towards your face to get another look at your ring. But before you can tell her how beautiful the ring is, she’s cupping your face and pulling it closer to hers. Her eyes render you speechless, looking into yours like the galaxy is hidden inside them. “We’ve been a family for a while now, Vita mia. I’m only just now growing the nerve to make it official.”

[gemviews]

[   RAFE CAMERON  ]         ―         OH , LITTLE MISS KOOK PRINCESS !   ━━━ PART ONE !

pairing: kook princess!black fem!reader x postseason3!rafe cameron.

summary: another party at the country club—one of your favorite spots to frequent. rafe, as usual, is there too, but this time, he’s fed up. your attitude, the one you always throw his way whenever you cross paths, has finally worn thin. but something’s different tonight. the usual playful banter between you two stops abruptly, and it pisses you off more than you care to admit. little by little, you start realizing it’s not just silence—it’s a game, and without even knowing it, you’re slowly playing right into rafe’s hands.

warnings: just pure sexual tension from rafe, craved attention from the reader. bratty x ignoring asshole.

"he’s with his coke whores again," y/n muttered, grimacing as she swirled the crystal tumbler filled with tequila and a hint of orange juice.

her two-toned, glossed lips parted slightly as she brought the thin black straw to her mouth. rafe hadn't even glanced her way after stepping into the island club, his focus elsewhere as he strode past her at the bar without so much as a nod. she had glared at him, and he had seen it—but chose to ignore her.

he did it on purpose.

now, rafe was lounging in the open seating area, his laughter echoing across the room as the usual crowd of kooks girls fawned over him, each one desperate for his attention.

they gathered around him, preening and giggling, all except y/n—the one girl who hadn’t fallen at his feet the moment she arrived in the outer banks.

that defiance had earned her the nickname "kook princess," a title once reserved for his sister, sarah cameron, before her relationship with john b. routledge became public knowledge in figure eight.

y/n, however, never seemed to care about the label, though she certainly lived up to it. her grace, her effortless elegance, and most of all, her humility—it was almost as if she hadn’t come from money at all.

and that’s exactly what infuriated rafe. how could the so-called "princess" be so kind to everyone else, yet reserve all her icy indifference for him? he wasn’t used to women turning away when he spoke to them, let alone ignoring him entirely. it gnawed at him in ways he didn’t want to admit.

rafe could feel the icy glare from y/n long before he turned his head in her direction. when he finally looked at her across the room, her bare back was to him, her posture tense, almost defiant.

what began as a passing glance quickly turned into a locked stare.

after downing her tequila sunrise, y/n moved away from the bar and drifted toward the catering area. she picked up a small slice of tiramisu, her fingers delicately wielding a plastic fork as she cut into the cake and brought a bite to her lips. she slid the fork into her mouth slowly, savoring the taste.

in rafe’s eyes, everything unfolded in slow motion. his gaze followed the curve of her toned brown legs, up to where her skinny heels wrapped around her ankles. the light pink dress she wore flared just above her thighs, its puffy hem contrasting with the way the fabric hugged her slim waist. the dress dipped low in the back, held up by thin straps—straps rafe wanted to slip off her shoulders so badly.

as y/n licked the frosting from the corner of her mouth with the tip of her tongue, rafe’s breath hitched. every bratty remark that left her mouth only made him angrier, but god, how he wanted that mouth on him.

“rafe?” one of the girls’ voices broke through the haze, snapping him out of his daze. she held up a small ziplock bag filled with a white, powdery substance, grinning. “wanna turn this club up?” she asked, her smirk full of suggestion.

surprisingly, rafe had been sober for two weeks. he sucked his teeth, battling the familiar itch crawling up his spine before waving off the offer. “not tonight,” he muttered, excusing himself from the group with a forced smile.

meanwhile, y/n, having noticed him staring earlier, mentally rolled her eyes. with unnecessary force, she stabbed her fork into the middle of the tiramisu, leaving the plate behind on the catering table before spinning around with attitude, as if anticipating rafe’s approach. she knew he was creeping closer, just like always.

there he was. rafe wore that same cocky smirk she’d always wanted to slap off his face. “nice dress,” he teased, letting his fingers graze the puffy hem of her dress. “didn’t know you were attending an elementary school graduation.”

before he could pull away, y/n swatted his hand, her glare sharp enough to cut. “oh, mr. cameron,” she shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “shouldn’t you be on your third line of coke by now? or are we saving the overdose for later?”

rafe’s jaw clenched at her words, his jawline sharpening as he swallowed down the sting of her remark. she always knew exactly where to hit, and he hated how much it got to him. “okay, princess,” he bit out, the usual arrogance in his tone replaced with something heavier, something resigned.

y/n’s perfectly arched brows furrowed in confusion. usually, rafe would fire back with something about her mother marrying into money or call her a skank in front of everyone. but this? this felt different. and for a moment, it threw her off her game.

her eyes darted around him, tracking his every movement as the tall frame of his body loomed over her, casting a shadow that seemed to shrink the space between them.

without breaking eye contact, rafe reached behind y/n, effortlessly grabbing the tiramisu she had abandoned on the table. the subtle scent of his expensive, woodsy cologne filled the air as he leaned in closer, brushing the edge of her personal space.

despite the intimidating stance he held, y/n refused to back down. “okay, princess?” she repeated, her voice laced with a dry laugh.

“don’t tell me you’re getting tired of me already,” she teased, her eyes glinting with challenge.

rafe responded with a low, sarcastic laugh, running a hand over his freshly buzzed hair. before y/n could brace herself, he did something unexpected—he picked up the tiramisu she had been eating, calmly cutting off another piece with the fork and taking a bite from the very same utensil she had used. his eyes never left hers as he chewed, the audacity of it all catching her completely off guard.

she couldn’t believe it. rafe was deliberately toying with her. he had gone from ignoring her to refusing to engage in their usual back-and-forth, and now this? he was pushing her buttons, and it was clear what he wanted.

he wasn’t just teasing her—he wanted her to crave the attention he was withholding. he was determined to make her fall at his feet, and he wasn’t going to stop until she did.

“tired of the kook princess? hm, never.” rafe smirked as he set down the plate after indulging in her tiramisu. “that’s good tiramisu. you should finish it.”

he turned as if to leave, but stopped just beside her, his presence lingering like a shadow. her tightly curled bundles cascaded down her back, and without hesitation, rafe reached out to push a strand away, his fingers lightly grazing her skin. he leaned in, his lips dangerously close to her ear.

“this little thing? it’s done. so watch your mouth from now on,” he whispered, his voice low and edged with warning, before casually strolling away, hands slipping into the pockets of his tailored slacks.

y/n stood frozen, the warmth of his body still lingering in the space he left behind. her gaze flickered from the half-eaten tiramisu to rafe’s retreating figure, watching as he effortlessly melted into the crowd of the country club.

she scoffed under her breath, momentarily dumbfounded. had that been a genuine threat? she couldn’t be sure, but something about his tone lingered in the back of her mind, like an itch she couldn’t ignore.

one thing was clear—y/n didn’t know what game rafe was playing, but if he thought he could intimidate her, he was wrong. whatever this was, she was determined to come out on top.

y/n felt a rush of embarrassment wash over her, even though only a few familiar eyes were watching. she needed to escape, to find a moment alone to process what had just happened. her heels clicked sharply against the polished floor of the country club as she made her way back toward the entrance.

motioning to one of the staff, she requested her coat. the luxurious white mink slipped over her shoulders effortlessly, providing a brief shield against the chilly evening air that greeted her as she stepped outside.

her reliable mercedes benz was in the shop yet again, leaving her with no choice but to summon ubers one after another. not exactly fitting for the kook princess, was it?

standing on the concrete sidewalk, she forced polite smiles at the members passing by, whether they were arriving or departing. “where the hell is this ride?” y/n muttered to herself, tapping her phone screen impatiently as she checked the app for updates.

as the minutes dragged on, the unmistakable roar of a high-powered motorcycle engine filled the air. without even looking, she knew who it was.

there he was—the same buzz-cut brown atop a sleek black motorcycle, his arms flexing beneath the fitted v-neck polo he wore. a small gold chain glinted against his exposed collarbone.

he pulled off his tinted helmet, revealing the all-too-familiar smirk. what other kook would ride dangerously on a motorcycle if not rafe freaking cameron?

“c’mon,” rafe said, his tone short and demanding.

y/n scoffed, rolling her eyes as she turned her gaze back to the parking lot, hoping her uber would appear at that very moment. the last thing she wanted was to be roped into another one of his games.

“i wasn’t asking. get on.” rafe’s blue eyes bore into y/n, an unwavering intensity that made her heart race. still feeling bratty, she tossed her clutch at him, expecting him to catch it. slipping her phone into the pocket of her mink coat, she grabbed the helmet, fitting it onto her head with a huff.

with a cautious movement, y/n swung her leg over the seat behind rafe, settling down but keeping her hands stubbornly behind her. she refused to wrap them around him, even as the tension hung in the air.

rafe noticed her defiance, shaking his head with a low chuckle. he tossed the clutch aside, watching it sail into the parking lot, where it probably hit a nearby car. y/n’s eyes widened in disbelief. “you asshole! what the hell is your problem?”

she contemplated jumping off the bike, but before she could voice her anger, rafe revved the engine. he gripped the handlebars firmly, pulling back on the throttle as the motorcycle roared to life. y/n let out a startled yelp as they shot forward, the rush of speed immediately silencing her.

as they sped out of the country club parking lot, her arms instinctively wrapped around him, clinging tightly. rafe couldn’t help but chuckle at how quickly she capitulated.

“you have plenty at home. now be quiet, princess,” he teased, the thrill of the ride clearly delighting him.

“you’re a fucking psychopath! i want to get off!” y/n shouted over the roar of the engine as rafe swerved recklessly around cars, earning angry honks from irritated drivers. he ignored her, as usual, pushing her closer to the edge of her patience—and sanity.

y/n whimpered, her plump lips trembling as her arms tightened around him out of sheer fear. she hated motorcycles, and the way rafe was handling his made the experience unbearable.

rafe noticed the shift. her sharp remarks had faded into silence, replaced by the desperate grip around his torso. he felt the weight of the helmet pressing against his back, a clear sign that she had softened—fear had taken over. surprisingly, he didn’t want her like that, so he eased off, slowing down to drive more like a regular civilian under the night sky.

the rest of the ride around figure eight, leading to the y/l/n estate, was quiet. no more banter, no biting remarks from y/n. for once, the tension between them was replaced with an uneasy calm.

but deep down, he knew better. y/n wasn’t scared enough to lose her fire. the craving for attention still lingered beneath the surface—he could feel it. she just needed a moment to catch her breath.

rafe steered through the iron gates as y/n punched in the code, guiding the motorcycle up the long, empty driveway. her parents weren’t home—when were they ever? y/n exhaled in relief, grateful to have survived the wild ride back.

“ugh,” she muttered under her breath in mock disgust, realizing her head was still resting against rafe’s back as the bike came to a full stop right at the granite doorstep.

with a soft sigh, she straightened herself, pulling off the helmet and running her perfectly manicured fingers through her bundles to smooth out any potential frizz. “thanks,” she said, her voice quiet, almost as if the word was dragged out of her unwillingly.

rafe glanced over his shoulder, his fingers idly playing with the gold rings that adorned his slender hands. his eyes followed her carefully as she swung her leg over the motorcycle to stand, nearly catching a glimpse of the delicate white lace panties peeking beneath her dress. he quickly turned his head away, pretending not to notice the fabric, but a sly smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"you like white, rafe?" y/n teased, catching his gaze the second he turned away, having been caught in the act of sneaking a glance.

the sly smile faded from his lips, replaced by a casual shrug. "depends on who's wearing it," he retorted smoothly.

y/n smirked, shoving the helmet into his arms as she stepped closer. "so, me," she answered for him, her confidence palpable.

this time, it was rafe who had to look up. y/n leaned against the bike's handle, the scent of her signature ysl perfume swirling around him, intoxicating. his eyes trailed down to her chest, noticing how her breasts were perfectly pushed up beneath the fabric of her dress. finally, his gaze lifted to meet hers-soft, inviting, and utterly captivating.

for a brief moment, the thought crossed his mind-he could take her right there, out in the open, letting the entire gated community witness that rafe cameron had finally tasted the kook princess. while others begged for her, here she was, close enough for him to claim.

pushing aside his exotic thoughts, rafe smirked. “in your dreams, princess,” he shot back, effortlessly dismissing the confidence y/n was radiating. her lips twisted into a soft pout.

that face—that fucking pouty look—it was driving rafe into a mental spiral. the image of her beneath him with that exact expression was quickly taking over his mind, clouding his resolve.

y/n began to think that maybe he was serious about withholding his attention, but she had no idea—this was exactly what rafe wanted. he wanted her to crave it, to realize that he wouldn’t make it easy for her. she’d have to earn it, and he was going to make sure she knew just how hard that would be.

y/n refused to let her ego show any cracks. turning on her heel, her heels echoed loudly against the grand staircase leading up to the entrance.

“you owe me a new clutch, cameron!” she called out over her shoulder, before swinging the door open and slamming it shut behind her. in a final act of defiance, she flicked off the exterior lights, leaving rafe standing in the darkness of the driveway.

rafe ran a hand down his face, stifling a groan as he glanced down, noticing his helmet conveniently hiding the growing bulge in his slacks.

he needed to hurry—taking down little miss kook princess was becoming more urgent than ever.

part two coming soon — comment to be in included in the taglist!

[chlorinecake]

“convenient chances” 🎱

summary: Your obsessive ex-boyfriend Jay Park goes to extreme measures to ensure that you submit to his ruthless control, and with your body weakening with each pitiful day that passes, you’re not sure how much longer you’ll be able to put up a fight…

pairing: Stalker! Yandere! Enhypen x Fem! Reader

contains: Suggestive, Non-con Kissing and Touching, Degrading Nicknames (crybaby, play thing, etc), Mentions of Self-harm and Other Violent Themes, Heavy Angst

word count: 5.3k -> previously . . .

YOUR BODY WAS fully awake, but your mind needed a moment to catch up.

The feeling of moist soil on your scalp somehow helped to comfort your body’s soreness as you laid down in the shallow ditch of dirt which was inevitably dubbed as your bed last night…

You could hardly push past the pain in your tired eyes, having cried yourself to sleep and back awake more times than you could count while meddling about with only one emotion coursing through your starved out veins:

Despair.

Not in the sense that you were ready to forfeit your role in this one against seven battle, but you worried your body could only take so much more of their combined insanity before giving up…

Just to let Jay claim you as his noble prize in this one-sided race for a twisted love—

Pat, pat, pat.

Your ears keened in on the sounds of nature surrounding you, eyes lazily opening up again as sprinkles of dry earth kissed your forehead, followed by more pats from above.

But the pats came with friends, the sounds now becoming more layered, louder as they approached the rim of the steep hole.

It was them.

The six goons, excluding their crookedly righteous leader who to this day leaves you baffled as to why you even dated him in the first place.

If only he wasn’t so good at pretending…

Pretending like everything was normal and that your past relationship with him was somehow reconcilable.

Your vision was still a bit cloudy given the poor lighting provided by the hardly risen sun and surrounding forestry, however you could still make out each boy's face as they stared back down at you. Jake, the nicer one, slowly guided a rope down to meet you.

“Can’t imagine you got much sleep down there, did ya’ cutie?” Heeseung’s voice started, stinging your soul like venom as he cooed at you with pouty lips from above, “don’t worry, I’ll give you a good morning kiss once we get you outta there…”

What a raging creep.

“This isn’t gonna be easy, but the only way to get you back up here is if you climb…”

Wow. He almost sounded like he cared about you when he said that.

Almost...

“C’mon, we threw you in a ditch, not a fucking volcano,” the tallest one grumbled impatiently, annoyed by your seemingly feeble demeanor.

“Niki,” Sunghoon scolded sternly, the younger boy shrugging in defense, “don't encourage her to resist us, alright?”

Jay must've been too busy to come and get you himself today, given all the work obligations and tasks he had lined up for the week.

So unfortunately, as if your luck could get any worse, you'd have to deal with his violent clan of minions until he got back.

Jake gave the rope a little shake to draw your attention back to it, your eyes having wandered off for a second in thought.

These boys were capable of the darkest evil's, but you knew it'd be better to comply than give 'em a hard time right now.

“Atta girl,” Jake smiled, watching as you stood up on wobbly legs before making your way to the dangling rope, “take your time coming up...”

Someway, somehow, you managed to climb up the rope, despite the dizziness clouding your mind on the way there.

Jungwon greeted you with a half-friendly expression, pulling you out of the ditch the rest of the way with a strong hand.

You honestly struggled a bit to stand up properly on your own, given how long your legs had been idle for, so Heeseung took it upon himself to carry you.

All the way to the nearby van, whose black exterior sent chills down your spine, despite how inviting the morning sunrise looked while casting upon it.

“Look at you,” Heeseung cooed, eyes scanning the fresh scar tracing the back of your hand as you clung to his shoulder for support, “so vulnerable and fragile...”

He took your hand and pressed a kiss to the flesh there, but you couldn't be bothered to pull away from him, thinking in your mind that you had to seem submissive.

You had to escape.

And tricking them seemed to be one of the few options you had left, especially with Mandy out of the picture.

Yes, you felt weak, but nowhere near as much as you were gonna pretend to be.

You were always a fighter, and you didn't plan to give up just yet, no matter how many times you'd have to get up just to fall back down again.

Sunoo held the car door open for Heeseung to help you get in, the rest of the boys already loading themselves into the vehicle at either side.

The sound of dirt stalling the trucks tires filled your ears before Sunghoon slammed his foot on the gas, forcing the car out of its mossy patch.

The trail back up was rocky, which made Niki reach an arm over to keep you in place as you kept wobbling in your seat.

You knew it wasn't because he actually cared for your safety, especially not with the bitter look plastered over his features.

“Since when did you get employed as a human seatbelt?” Jungwon asked with furrowed eyes, confused by Niki's behavior.

“Just trying to keep Jay's play thing safe,” he smiled facetiously, just as his eyes turned up to a tear in the roof, or more accurately, an empty slot where a seatbelt once was… “since you overgrown fuck-nuts like horsing around in here...”

BY NOW, THE car drive was nearing its end, human civilization barely coming into view through the dark tinted windows.

Sunghoon's eyes were trained on the road ahead as he started to speak, “So... we don't have many options for breakfast, but given how hungry you are, I'm sure you won't be picky...”

He pulled into the drive-thru of a nearby fast-food restaurant, the scent of deep-fried breakfast foods infiltrating the cold air behind the truck windows.

Meanwhile, your mind was stuck on Niki's mentioning of the broken seatbelt earlier, simply because no seatbelt meant no restraints, and ultimately, nothing was holding you back.

Truly, what you were plotting to do next was quite obviously a very bad idea... but, with the little strength you had left, you decided to push through anyways.

Literally.

Slam.

You pushed passed Niki and slung open the car door, slamming it behind you just as Niki’s hand barely grazed your arm, cursing to himself as you took off into the morning fog.

Thud, thud, thud.

Your sneaker-clad feet hit the pavement with harsh steps as you ran off into the opposite direction of the boys, treading as far as your dry bones could take you.

With your heart pounding like a drum in your chest and your eyes glued straight ahead, you knew looking back would only slow you down.

That’s when you noticed the parking lot was completely empty, which meant that no bystanders were present once Heeseung’s long legs eventually caught up to you, grabbing your shoulder to halt your tracks, right before leaving a slap clean across your face.

You fell to the ground, scuffing your elbow in the collision with a now busted-lip complimenting your dark under eyes.

“Pretty energetic to say you’re running on an empty stomach, aren't you, baby face?” He pressed with aggression, taking your jaw in his fierce grip to make you look up at him, “What? Too scared to talk now that I’m being rough with you?”

All you did was wince at his words, the adrenaline boiling in your chest only increasing with fear as the rest of the goof-troop approached the scene.

“Aww… you scared her into silence,” Sunghoon pouted while kneeling down to meet where you sat, “what’re we gonna tell Jay about her sudden case of muteness, Heeseung?”

“Hmm... I can think of plenty ways to force some pretty sounds out of that mouth of hers,” the eldest grinned, releasing your chin only to grip your hair this time, pulling you back with force.

“Ahckk,” you groaned in pain, gripping his arm in an attempt to keep your sounds in, but he was already snickering at you, noticing the rosy red bruise raising to your skin from how hard he slapped you earlier.

“Oh?” he cooed, tilting his head as he spoke… “I didn’t mean to hurt you, ____,” he whispered sarcastically before his lips met the sore part of your face...

“Let me make it feel better.”

Heeseung's lips moved lower down your neck as his grip on you only tightened, his rough teeth grazing the surface of your skin before pinching down on it, all while the most satisfying smirk stained his features.

Damned if I do, damned if I don’t, a voice in your head reminded as your brain returned to reality, brushing off the wild scenario you'd just came up with.

“That’ll be it, thank you,” Jungwon said to the lady over the drive-thru speaker as Sunghoon pulled up to the next window.

“What’s on your mind?” Niki asked, noticing the way you became quiet all of a sudden, your previously shaky breaths settling to a near inaudible decibel.

“N-nothing… just a little tired I guess,” you stuttered, not meeting his nightmare-like eyes to which only made him hum in response.

“Welp, I hope you like coffee, because Jay has something special planned for you two later, and you wouldn’t wanna show up all drowsy like this...”

You had known Jay long enough by now to know that something special was code for a disaster in the making—

“____ loves coffee,” Sunoo blurted out in a nonchalant tone, “I used to buy her five cans every weekday from the convenience store to keep her stocked for the whole work week...”

Until I switched to banana milk, you thought to yourself, a tiny smile rising to your features at the wholesome memory.

Sunoo’s gentle voice trailed off as he hung his head low, the boys looking at him in confusion at his sudden comment.

You sulked quietly; Sunoo had became so cold towards you since the day you scolded him after he betrayed your friendship for Jay... so much had happened since then that you almost forgot how close you and Sunoo used to be before all this…

“God, I don’t know why I even said that,” he cursed himself with a sigh, looking out the window to avoid their judgmental looks.

“It’s uh… it’s fine buddy, just… pass me us a twenty please,” Heeseung continued, Sunoo pulling out a $20 bill and passing it to Jake to pay for the food.

“Have a good day,” the cashier said with a forcefully chipper voice, Sunghoon already driving off as her final words were cut off by the sound of the truck engine.

He took another short path that led to a gas station nearby, letting Jungwon, Sunoo, Niki, and himself take you inside the corner-store to eat while the rest stayed back to pump gas and shit-talk.

The shop resembled one you might see in an apocalyptic video game, the food-stained tables and flickering ceiling lights only adding to the unsettling aura.

That's when the wall-mounted TV, just a few inches beside the glass entry doors, broadcasted a live news report featuring a woman by the name of Mandy Reeves.

You felt part of your soul descend at the mere mentioning of her name as the scratchy-voiced newswoman began to report from the speakers...

“62 year old Goldman's 24-Hour Convenience Store worker Mandy Reeves was reportedly found tied up with a rope and non-responsive in the establishment’s storage room around midnight. While Ms. Reeves is in better condition now, authorities have concluded that this attack was from within. Here’s what Mandy had to say concerning the incident.”

“Oh my God,” you said louder than necessary, eyes wanting to brim with tears until you noticed the equally worried looks on the four boy's faces, but of course, the five of you had pretty different reasons for looking that way.

“This is Sydney Baker with ENN News… Ms. Reeves, can you please share an account of what you remember most from your attack last night?” the reporter interrogated with a fat microphone in her hand.

From what you could tell, Mandy still seemed pretty shaken up about what happened, even from the blurry TV screen.

You couldn't help but feel guilty after sending her through all that, knowing she was the type of person to stand up for someone even if it meant she'd end up getting hurt, too.

“I… all I remember was a bunch of boys… T-too many of them to count, but they all looked like trouble from the moment they walked in the store,” Mandy stuttered before the camera, eyes wandering all over the place with her gray mane an utter mess on her head.

“And what did you say about another girl earlier? Did she assist the attackers?” The reporter asked back.

“NO! No, not at all... she was the one in danger! I... I-I can’t remember her name, but she’s a good friend to me… always stopped ‘round the shop at night… treated me like I was her own mother…”

“But the attackers, ma’am. Are you genuinely sure this wasn’t some kind of set up?”

“One of those buck-crazy hooligans were in an abusive relationship with her! His name was… Jay… s-something like that… he must’ve built up some kinda gang to get her back.”

“Ma’am, you said earlier that your memory is a bit foggy… are you certain the information you’re sharing with us is accurate?”

“Yes, this all happened before they jumped me… that girl… she’s been hiding from him for over four months now I believe… my guess is that he finally caught up to her... I went to call the police and—”

“Thank you for your cooperation, Miss Mandy, but we’re running low on time… once again this is Sydney Baker reporting live from Goldman's 24-Hour Convenience Store. Back to you, James...”

The reporters voice faded into the background as Niki and Jungwon made direct eye contact with each other, looking at Sunoo next who sat with a worried expression on his face.

“That old fucking bitch-”

“Niki, chill out, alright?” Jungwon interrupted, standing up from the table to gather your food and trash.

“Hey, I was still eating that,” you complained, taking one last sip of your drink before he snatched that from you too.

“Tough because we’re leaving,” Sunghoon said sternly before aggressively hooking your arms in his, despite how gentle he wanted it to seem to anyone looking.

“She thinks this shit is funny,” Niki scoffed, opening the gas station door for Sunghoon to lead you back to the car, “just look at the way she’s beaming right now…”

“My 'beaming' has nothing to do with you assholes getting busted for not covering your tracks properly, but everything to do with your actual response to the news,” you corrected, feet struggling to keep up with Sunghoon’s fast-paced walking as his hold on your arm fastened, “you all should be scared...”

“Interesting comment coming from you,” Jungwon retorted, right before calling out to his hyung’s ahead of him, “we gotta get her outta here as soon as possible.”

“What happened?” Heeseung asked first, considering how fast you guys came back.

Jake had just finished pumping the gas when you all reached the car, disgruntled looks on the three boy's faces as Sunghoon began to explain what happened.

“We were on TV,” Sunghoon said, opening the back door of the truck and practically shoving you in, “that old chick gave the cops a name, too…”

Heeseung's eyebrows furrowed at his friends words, “I... I don’t understand, what’re you guys saying?”

“We don’t know much yet, but someone found Mandy last night and she spilled as many beans as she possibly could,” Niki spat somewhere in between, all of them getting in their respective seats as Jake caught on to the dilemma a little sooner than Heeseung did, “we’re fucked.”

Slamming his foot on the gas, the vehicle took off out of the parking lot, the entire vibe somehow feeling much darker than before now that they were potentially being man-hunted.

“Whose name did she drop?” Jake asked angrily over the steering wheel, knuckles turning white from the intense grip.

The boys fell quiet, Heeseung being equally confused and curious as they sat with clenched jaws, body’s rocking a bit with the car's bolstering drifts as you decided to speak up on their silent behalves.

“Jay,” you started, voice like a single note of a piano that rung strong in their headspace as chills ran down their tensed backs… “she mentioned Jay...”

ABOUT AN HOUR had passed before the sleek black van pulled up into Jay’s driveway, a feeling of shock and gratefulness washing over you at the fact that the boys didn’t take a pit-stop at the “classroom” to teach you any lessons.

“Get her out,” Jake practically barked, Niki almost instantly grabbing your arm at his hyung’s words.

“Isn’t Jay still at work?” You asked somehow in between all the action, Sunghoon having opened the car door to your right and grabbing your other arm, too.

“Yes,” Sunghoon sighed, not even meeting your face as he spoke, “but he’ll be here shortly—”

“I’ll put in a tip that the crybaby missed him very much,” Niki added, speeding up his footsteps until you all reached the tall, mahogany front door, the simple sight of it bringing back one too many memories you wished you could forget now…

Memories of when you loved Jay sincerely, and he loved you… memories of when he used to never put you in harms way… memories of when you were able to look him in his handsome face without gritting your teeth with rage—

Click.

Jungwon unlocked the door with a spare key that was so conveniently placed beneath the front porch statue of an eagle.

Sunghoon and Niki let your arms free in unison, a tingly sensation running up and down the length of your limbs thanks to the force they initially applied.

The four of you stood there awkwardly for a moment, up until you felt a hand tap your shoulder.

“Make yourself at home, ____,” Heeseung began, startling you from behind as your mind became aware of his daunting frame behind you, “and make it quick before a bug flies in, please…”

“O-oh,” you stammered, taking a few rushed steps until you made it all the way inside, the flashy interior of Jay’s home somehow widening your tired eyes.

The sound of Jake’s boots traveled somewhere behind you, his arms being filled with a black dress, pair of heels, and velvet jewelry bag.

“For you, if it wasn’t obvious,” he said plainly, facial features as blank as a fresh canvas.

“Jay wants you to shower before he comes back… and also,” he paused for a second, handing you the items he held before his hand snagged at the rubber band holding up his man-bun and passing it to you, “try to make yourself look nice, alright?”

. . .

Twist.

The faucet creaked slightly as you hopped into the shower, it’s stream of warm water soothing your grimy skin.

You took a moment to let the water moisten your entire body from head to toe before reaching for the loofa and bottle of soap, sudsing up the product before lathering it in.

The tiny pool of water around your feet was muggy and dark, reminding you of just how dirty you had been the whole day, even though it didn’t really bother you after a while.

Twist.

You turned the faucet off, guiding your freshly shampooed hair into a towel while you dried off your body, stepping out of the tub with dry feet to avoid making a mess of things.

The house had become so quiet that even the water trickling down the drain sounded loud.

Pumping a few squirts of lotion into your palm, you massaged it into your thirsty skin, just as your eyes caught sight of the pink razor sitting idly on the counter.

It’s set of three silvery blades shined eerily beneath the overhead ceiling lights, especially against the foggy bathroom mirror.

That’s crazy, your mind internally scolded itself, even though the razor was already in your hand by now.

It’s not even worth it, you heard another voice say, but this time, in an almost daring tone.

Your eyes narrowed in on the squiggly train of green and blue veins decorating your delicate wrist.

You felt your heart start to throb the longer you stared, not out of nervousness, because your heart beat was relaxed in this moment, but out of pain from the sharp sensation that traveled to your finger tips, a stream of dark, rich red trailing down your forearm and dripping onto your bath towel.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Hey, you almost done in there or what?” Heeseung’s voice asked from behind the door, your mind just now realizing that the razor was still inches away from you, resting in its initial spot.

No blood.

No pain.

Just your head playing tricks on you again—

“Uh… y-yeah, just gimme a sec.” You stalled, hand almost instantly grabbing the black dress from its clothes-hanger and sliding it up your hips.

Heeseung still stood behind the door, very aware of the fact that you weren’t even close to being ready… regardless of this, he turned on the heel of his boot and called out, “She’s almost ready, Jay!” indirectly letting you know to hurry the fuck up in there.

“How does she look for me?” You assumed Jay asked from outside, given that Heeseung responded with a cheesy “absolutely beautiful.”

Jay made his way into the room, knocking gently on the bathroom door... not peeking, just listening to your soft yet nervous breathing, “I’ll meet you downstairs, okay love?...”

You didn’t answer, but instead, fastening the zipper on the side of your dress, clipping in the crystal earrings, silver necklace, and two beaded bracelets for either wrist while double checking yourself in the mirror.

That's when you heard Heeseung’s footsteps walk away with Jay’s, just as a new set followed right after.

“It’s me, ____,” Sunoo’s voice began, “can I come in for a sec?”

Once again, you didn't answer, only letting an exasperated huff fall from your lips as you looked into the mirror, the act of trying to style your slippery wet hair with Jake's flimsy hair-tie only adding to your stress…

“I know I'm probably one of the last people you wanna talk to right now, but I can help you,” he continued, part of you wishing he meant 'help you escape'—

Click.

You unlocked the door knob with a creak, the misty bathroom air hitting Sunoo’s dewy skin as he walked in, directing his hand out as a sign for you to sit on the toilet.

“Close your eyes for me,” he said, pulling out a tube of mascara to apply to your lashes.

“Thank you,” you meant to say, but you were interrupted by his voice saying, “I'm sorry” first...

“Sun, can we please not do this right now?” You sighed, an apology from anyone being the last thing on your mind right now.

Sunoo’s chest raised with an anxious exhale before he let the air out through his nose as he whispered the words, “I had to say it ____… It hurts me, y'know?... seeing you like this... seeing what I helped them all do to you...”

An unsettling silence swarmed between you two before the sad-eyed boy reached in his pocket, pulling out a blush compact to apply a bit of hue to the apple of your cheeks with his fingers.

He then pulled a few hairs out from your head, trying to emphasis your natural beauty instead of stressing over a specific style.

“We won't be toying around with this, by the way,” he smiled softly, taking the rubber band from your hand and tossing it into the bin beside you.

You let yourself chuckle a bit at his actions, but it wasn’t the kind of laughter that made you feel good…

It was the kind of laughter that you have with a friend in grade-school while sitting in detention, waiting for your angry parent to come and pick you up for a good scolding—

“So,” he started, placing his hands at your shoulders as you stood up from the toilet, looking at yourself in the mirror, “what do you think?”

Looking back at your reflection, all you could do was smile softly, not for genuine purposes, but for Sunoo’s sake, a familiar smile spreading across his face too at your appearance.

“You're welcome, then,” he meant to say, but you interrupted him first by turning around, wrapping your arms around his waist and whispering a cracky “I forgive you...” against his chest...

BY NOW, SUNOO had left you alone to gather your emotions for a few more minutes before coming down.

He told you a series of simple steps to follow once you'd leave the bathroom:

1. Walk down the staircase.

2. Greet Jay with a smile, either fake or genuine.

3. Don't do anything stupid.

The hardest of these steps? All three if you were being completely honest... but by now, you had already completed 1% of step one, your nervous legs standing still and firm at the very top of the staircase as Jay's voice called out to you.

“My love, what's the delay for?” You heard Jay ask from the bottom, not being able to see you given the way the stairwell curved, “I'm ready to see you...” he went on...

The gall of this man... to demand your presence like he had a right to it or something... this whole thing was just so... dehumanizing.

“I don’t think I can keep doing this Jay,” you blurted out, letting your first mind speak before you could even rationalize a more suitable reply... before you could even take your next step down the staircase...

“I'm giving you an opportunity to cooperate by your own persuasion, ____... please don't abuse it,” he warned coldly, resting his hand on the staff like structure of the staircase as he kept envisioning you coming down the steps, almost as if his thoughts could manifest it happening...

“You're not even listening to me, ____,” you scoffed, thinking back in your head how this clown-show would've been avoided if you actually just picked up that damned razo-

“That's nonsense, and you know it, ____... I understand that you're stressed, but please-”

“No, Jay, because that's the thing,” you interrupted with a raised voice, “you don't understand a damn thing about what I've been going through, all at the hands of you and those strange boys you puppet around...”

“Baby, I get that this is a difficult situation, but I'm trying my very best to make this work,” he pleaded, looking at top the stairs as if you could somehow see his forlorn face.

By now, you had already skipped step 2 and entirely ignored step 3-

“Well, pardon me for adding to the difficulties, but fuck your efforts,” you spat, kicking off the heels you wore and tossing them beside you with a loud clatter, “they've only been out of vanity this whole time anyway...”

Anyway...

The word echoed within your soul, right before it became like wind in your ears...

Your heart skipped a few beats as you suddenly felt like you were falling, both down with gravity and out of the world at the same time, eyes widening with the gasp that escaped your tightening throat.

The feeling of forceful hands left your back, your feet tripping over your steps as you whipped your head to see who pushed you, the whole moment occurring in slow-motion as your eyes met Niki's piercing ones, his large hand waving facetiously at you as you continued to tumble down the staircase.

Your back hit the final step with a loud crack, your consciousness leaving you instantly as your now sleeping face met Jay's, and even though you couldn't see it, his eyes filled with utter terror, boot-clad feet running towards your feeble body.

His words came out like confused soup, but each sentence was something along the lines of 'don’t leave me like this.'

“She brought this upon herself, hyung,” Niki announced shamelessly, coming down the staircase in harsh, slow steps as the shadow of a menacing smirk remained clear on his face, “just let her go...”

Jay looked up at Niki with tears in his eyes. “You idiot!” was all he yelled before scooping you up in his arms, Heeseung running over from the kitchen to see what happened from the noise.

“Oh my God,” Heeseung gasped, running to take you from Jay's hold only for his hand to be swatted away with a nonverbal 'I can handle her,' on his behalf.

“Just open the door... I have to get her outta here,” Jay's voice bit back, trying to stop himself from breaking down at the sudden course of events.

“If she doesn't wake back up soon, promise me that the five of you will make sure that Niki doesn't live to see another day...”

YOUR EYES CRACKED open slowly like rusty door hinges, a throbbing sensation from your head being the first thing you noticed upon waking up.

And the second sensation? Well, it was the tingly feeling running up and down your back, extending all the way into your tied up wrists.

If you didn't remember falling down the stairs before, you definitely remembered it now as you felt a bit of blood drip from the poorly bandaged cut in your brow, your entire being physically cringing at the memory.

Step, step.

Your eyes darted to the source of the sound, only to find Jay waltzing around in an idle circle around the room.

Or more specifically, the classroom...

You're not sure why he decided to bring you here instead of a proper hospital to be checked out, but then again, you didn't really understand anything that Jay did.

Like for instance, why he decided to tie you up in a basement like a criminal within minutes of you literally flying down his staircase-

“Where’s Sunoo?” You began upon making eye contact with Jay, not giving him the chance to start a conversation first.

There was an awkward pause before he finally responded with a blunt, “What’s it matter to you, anyways?… He hated you with every bone in his pathetic body...”

“That's a lie!” You barked back, surprised by your own intensity.

And God, yelling at him only made your head hurt even more.

Jay scanned your bruised face for a moment, communicating to you with his eyes that it’d be best to watch your mouth from here on out considering how it landed you at the bottom of a staircase not too long ago.

His eyes then fell to the sight of your arms that were tied securely behind your back and to the chair post, all by the likes of Heeseung.

You were already treading on thin ice here, so you knew that if you were to say anything at all, it would have to be at the very least somewhat respectful...

Jay smiled softly as your facial features relaxed with the exhausted sigh you let out, the slim sign of compliance compelling him to pace around the room more freely this time.

“To answer your question, love… I suppose some people are just simply,” he delayed in thought, looking up for a second til the right word came to mind… “Replaceable,” he finally finished, voice sounding eerily low as he now made a fierce eye contact with you.

You didn’t understand why he was taunting you all of a sudden… almost as if his previously compassionate demeanor had been corrupted by someone…

“A set of six friends that help you commit crimes… the meager cashier at a local convenience store… there are plenty of kindred spirits for those type of people… for instance, we’re both bound to find another Sunoo… and you, another Mandy—”

“What gives you any right to speak of them in such a way? After all the pain you’ve cost in their lives,” you questioned with a broken voice, hesitant tears welling in your eyes as the pain in your wrist increased with your emotions, the tight restraints only feeling worse any time you moved even in the slightest bit.

Jay caught onto this, too… watching the way your body winced from behind every time you even thought to disrespect him… it brought one of the most sincere smiles to his chilled face that you’ve seen in quite a while.

“Does talking back to me make you feel powerful, love?… c’mon, you can be honest… I won’t laugh…”

You never gritted your teeth so hard in your entire life as you did in this moment, staring back at him with bloodshot eyes as your vision started to blur from the tears.

“No,” you muttered out wobbly, hanging your head low as it became too hard to keep looking at his face, “it doesn’t make me feel anything at all…”

His feet paused in their pacing, right before he turned to meet you where you sat, taking your chin in his hands and forcing you to look up at him, an unreadable but nonetheless threatening look in his eyes as your heart fluttered with nerves...

“I see…,” Jay continued, eyes not meeting yours but still wandering over the expanse of your face, observing your bruised cheek bone, the tiny cut in your lower lip, and the wrinkle between your furrowed brows. “Allow me to help you feel something for once, then…”

“Something painful, I’m sure—”

“I prefer the word pleasant,” he smiled, still holding your chin in place as his free hand reached for the dagger sitting on the side table, its sharp blade still shining before you despite the dimly lit atmosphere.

In this moment, the only pleasant thought in your heart was death, but Jay knew that would be both too good and bad of an ending for you.

Kneeling over you, he lined the blade up with the thick rope entrapping your weakened wrists, slicing back and forth in skilled motions until he felt your hands release.

A relaxed sigh left your mouth at the feeling, the simple sense of relief still mixing with anguish as Jay locked his eyes back on yours.

He knelt down now, letting your chin go as he cut the restraints from around your ankles, placing the blade in your lap before standing up to take a few steps away from you.

“Jay, why are you letting me free—”

“Because I love you, ____,” he stated firmly, removing his jacket from his shoulders as he watched you from where he stood, “that’s always been my reason behind everything since the day I first met you… since I realized that a soul like yours isn’t replaceable…”

“I… I don’t understand what you're trying to say—”

“Stand up,” he continued, voice sounding so deep that you felt it in your feet, “and pick up the knife…”

He watched your trembling hand reach for the blade as if in slow motion, your knees flexing to stand up, weakness plaguing your every step as you walked towards him, his usually sharp eyes softening to a state of meekness…

Or perhaps, it was another state in reflection of the twisted love Jay had chased for months on end… right before he decided within himself that he was willing to finally give it up if that's what it'd take to keep you safe... to see you happy...

“All you’ve ever wanted was to make your own choices… to have that freedom back that I took away from you... this is the only time I’m willing to give you a chance at liberty—”

“I’m not going to kill you, Jay,” your voice came out quietly with a crack, silently hiccuping now as the tears continued to fall, your anxious body somehow craving none other than his strong arms to catch you in case you fell… or even just for the fuck of it...

“Then don’t,” he whispered, maintaining a gentle smile as you practically fell apart from the inside out right before his eyes, “you can do whatever it is that you wish to now... Kill the thought of me along with this version of yourself, and run away for good… I won’t chase you anymore…”

This whole thing... it was becoming far more confusing than you could bear… all this time, all you ever wanted was to be your own person again... who could make decisions without having to look over their shoulder in fear anymore...

All you ever wanted was to live a happy life without Jay and his games, but right now, you couldn’t really remember or imagine what a life like that would look like anyways...

Even if you did run away, you’d still have all the memories from these horrors attached to you… all of the fears cementing every corner of your being like a dungeon... you’d still be reminded by all the bruises and pain...

Your life had come to a point where there was no more pleasure to seek from here, as Jay had filled every possible void and meaning in your life with fragments of his insanity for you...

Just as he operated and just as you concluded to yourself a long time ago, broken toys were Jay’s favorite objective, and if you weren’t already broken upon being found, you were bound to be by the time he finished playing with you.

Simply put, this traumatizing love game was nearing its demise, and you had come too far, become too weak to still put up a fight...

You fell into Jay's chest, his protective arms holding you close to him as your cold tears met his warm skin.

You desperately clung to his shoulders, hoping to gain any sense of comfort from the contact… any sense of that pleasantness he offered to you.

The dagger fell to the ground with a shattering clink, all of your nerves melting away as Jay continued to hold you, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head as you continued to sniffle.

He always knew you’d come around, because that's how things went for him as a Park... though, he also knew it’d still hurt you in the beginning until you'd become adjusted.

You exhaled in his embrace, eyes shut tight even though the tears continued to spill.

“I don’t want to run anymore either, Jay,” you choked out, still clinging to him as he hummed at your words.

“I know, ____…” he said, almost in an apologetic manner, “but now…” he stalled in the silence, peeking down at the knife on the floor, “you’ll have to learn to love me again… but in the meantime, things will be different between us... better... and I can promise you that, love...”

All you did was nod against his chest, finally letting your eyes open up as you spoke an almost inaudible, “I hope I’ve made the right decision…”

He broke from the hug, still connecting your bodies by the waist as he took your hand in his hand to place a kiss against the tender marks on your wrist, a single thought resting in the back of your troubled mind...

You had just given up on your only chance of survival, and was that a foolish or wise decision? You’re not so sure as of now… but either way, one thing remained certain… a thing that you dreaded to acknowledge even now as Jay held you in his arms…

You could only hope that this certainty wouldn’t haunt you til the end of time, and that somewhere within the depths of your broken heart, you’d grow more accepting of the simple fact that Jay, in all of his efforts, had finally won, leaving the two of you now as a united pair to pick up and rebuild the pieces together…

☆ This concludes the CONVENIENT CHANCES series’ season finale everyone! I’d like to give special thanks to @yourmomscuntis2tighy for originally requesting this piece, and to all of the amazing people who supported this series to the very end 🤍🤍🤍

☆ NOTE: in no way, shape, or form does this fanfic intend to romanticize unhealthy relationships or abusive behaviors. i simply write for entertainment and creative purposes. thus, reader discretion is always advised.

☆ TAGS: @squoxle @nikisvanillaccola @ashgonedash @addictedtohobi @wonbinisbabygurl @cherlv @03sunoos @kaykay11sworld @gigiramirezsblog @hoonsyo @en-thralled @haechansheart @night-en-shining-armor @cutiejseong @j-wyoung @bambangan @wonbyf @4imhry @zhangyi-johee @naddii @valhrts @tinyenha @lisaaannna @valentineluvr @heecries @espyluvsyou @tokusatsutoad @confuse20x @teddursa @riviyw @tamii4 @lovelycassy @addictedtohobi @gardenwons @nikipedia07 @tubatusoobs @03sunoos @oshsha @elleflying07 @jjungwonss @soobins--dimple @heeseung-min @heerinnie @wonbyf @smouches @ilovesunoosm @whattheflipbroski @starrylovesu @jungwonloveer @idkdykilr @jays-property @daintysan @oddracha @miinie6300 @lilyuwon @meowmeowjang @sun00027 @kkamismom12

[urfavlarry]

I recently got into School bus graveyard and I COMPLETELY understand the hype, idk if im the only who does this... but literally the moment I was done I went to tumblr for fics, but there's like none?? So maybe some dating headcanons for the group!! ^^

Dating Headcanons for the sbg characters

Ashlyn Banner

best person to have a lazy day with tbh

i swear yall would be like “should we go out today” look at each other for 5 seconds and say “nah”

she would teach you some gymnastics and laugh when your just lying there complaining how you aren’t flexible

probably is more of a person that gives you gifts, or gives you a hug in stead of comforting you with words

she would be a bit awkward at first probably

also I don’t think she likes excessive physical touch cuz red confirmed that Ashlyn is autistic but when she gets used to you she would be okay with it but still, don’t go too hard on her

you let her play/stim with your fingers

you’re always there for her when she gets overwhelmed and she loves you so much for that

doesn’t call you that many nicknames probably a short version of your name but if your name is already short then probably just love or babe

if you speak another language she would definitely wanna know some words or learn with you

if it’s your mother language then she would be like “omg how was [your country] like!”

probably is a nerd in some sort of way

anyway probably a great girlfriend to have but only if you aren’t the type to be really really and I mean REALLY extroverted

Taylor Hernández

this girl is such a cutie!!

would plan dates, sleepovers, night outs..

drawing/picnic dates are a must

watching the sunset or sunrise together on the rooftop

calls you cute nicknames like sunshine, mi vida, sugar and that kind of stuff

is very affectionate

cuddles !!

shes the little spoon probably but if you’re feeling down then she will gladly be the big spoon

you would definitely braid her hair if you know how, if you don’t know then there’s another idea for a date! teaching you how to braid hair!

probably isn’t even that awkward at first probably a little bit shy but gets pretty confident later on

the best partner to have if you’re insecure

makes your insecurities disappear in a heartbeat

overall a 11/10 girlfriend !! we love taylor :D

Tyler Hernández

he is probably a tsundere tbh

acting like he doesn’t care but when you are alone he babies you sm

no matter if your bigger then him, stronger, smaller, it doesn’t matter, he babies you no matter what

don’t let the others know tho

isn’t afraid to show you off like girl bffr

holds your hand, has his hand on your waist, kisses you on the forehead, cheek or lips before class starts (even if you are in the same class)

uses nicknames like mi amor, mi reina/mi rey, baby ect.

nicknames with him are endless

movie night is a must

probably would take you to his baseball practice

has a separate album for you only

everyone in the group can tell he’s love sick like he looks at you with heart eyes

a jealous type probably

would beat up anyone and everyone who looks at you the wrong way

he’s probably touch starved and he hides his feelings from you because he just prioritises you over anything

you gotta full on force him to tell you what’s wrong but after a while he opens up to you normally

a 100/10 boyfriend the poor boys been through too much

Logan Fields

gardening dates!!

gives you flowers when you’re sad or just whenever to make your day!

stargazing dates

yapps your ear off about astrology (you let him tho)

calls you nicknames like bunny, hun, love

gives you honest opinions on everything

regrets his choices when you get grumpy afterwards

makes it up to you by cuddling you or kissing your whole face

introduces you to his grandparents

they approved of course because they just trust that he can pick himself a good s/o

hugs from behind!!

reads you a book when you can’t sleep

helps you with your work but doesn’t do it for you (Barron trauma)

best person to seek when you want comfort and or advice

gives you honest advice so if you were in the wrong expect him to tell you lmao

if you listen to music on vinyls or CDs then definitely brings you to a music shop and he will spoil you rotten

loves listening to your music taste no matter what genre it is he just wants to bond with you

he’s such an adorable and amazing boyfriend it mealts my heart !! :D

Aiden Clark

be prepared to patch this boy up every single second of the day

and also getting him out of trouble every single day

he is a wild one for sure

doesn’t mean he’s a bad boyfriend

loves showing you things he learned on his skateboard and he tries to teach you

does that thing where he holds your hands while your on the skateboard, tells you to jump and flips the board for you

that tik tok kind of shi

while on the topic of tik tok, does every silly couple tik tok trend with you lmao

yapps your ear of all day every day

not the best person to ask for advice from but he will hold you until you feel better!

best cuddle buddy

and hug buddy

if you don’t like physical touch then idk if you could have a relationship with him, he will CLING to you as if his life depended on it

loves it when you play with his hair

makes a playlist for you two

calls you nicknames like rockstar, doll, my love, bae, babe

definitely has you saved as “future wife🤭❤️” or “the mother of my kids🥵😍”

he be weird like that

loves to have you in his lap

idk he probably likes you ass sm, not in a sexual way but just lays on it, smacks it, squishes it..

only in private tho

honestly a pretty good boyfriend but he’s more of like your child then boyfriend

Ben Clark

a chill one for sure

hugs, holding hands are a must

listening to music through his headphones how he did with Taylor in that one episode

jealousy scale is um pretty high

you gotta reassure this boy because he’s just scared of loosing you

would fr fight 100 people at once for you if you asked him to

whenever he gets angry, you’re there for him when Aiden can’t and he appreciates that

loves it when you hold his hand and rub circles on the back of it

forehead kisses >>

probably doesn’t give you that many nicknames since he doesn’t speak, either a short version of your name, bae or hun

the best listener ever (not because he doesn’t speak)

when you start to yap and just talk about the most random things he has your back against his chest as he rests his chin on your shoulder

very chill and overall good boyfriend

[cocoakrispis-blog]

SACCHARINE

pairing ~ ellie williams x fem! reader

summary ~ uhhh you and ellie get freaky but like in the morning time

warnings ~ smut written by a minor, nsfw, morning sex, making out, teasing, fingering r! receiving, they both have morning breath it’s tragic

wc ~ 1.7k words

you felt a warm body shift next to your own, slightly stirring you awake. the covers that you were wrapped in almost lulled you back to sleep but you fought the strong urge to drift back into your pleasant slumber and pried open your heavy eyes.

as soon as your eyelids were fully open you were greeted with the serene sight of your freckle faced girlfriend peacefully snoozing away. the sight alone made a small smile subconsciously form on your face.

ellie had been up late gaming last night and had crawled into bed at sometime around 3 in the morning. you remember feeling a little bit annoyed about the fact that she had gotten into bed so late because after a long day all you wanted to do was cuddle with her. however the view that you were currently being provided made it hard for you to even muster up the strength to continue yesterdays anger so early in the morning,

maybe later.

right now all you were focused on was how effortlessly alluring your sleeping girlfriend was.

the curtains both of you were too lazy to fully close the night before let in the perfect amount of early morning sunlight. the sunrises rays were currently bathing ellie in the most gentle beams of yellow and orange.

you could stay in this most tender moment observing her forever.

after a while though you started to feel ourself become antsy and eager for ellie’s attention.

all of a sudden a certain warm feeling in between your thighs reminded you just why exactly you were displeased with ellie’s decision to come to bed so late.

you were needy.

using as little movement as possible you leaned over and began softly kissing ellie’s neck in an attempt to begin to get her to stir.

on late nights like the one she had just pulled tended to make her sleep like a rock. and a rock could do nothing for the growing heat of your core.

when you noticed that your soft kisses weren’t getting any sort of reaction out of her you decided to get bolder and trail your fingers down to play with the boxers that she hadn’t bothered to put any pants on over before she climbed into bed the night before.

before you were able to fully sneak your fingers in you felt ellie move for the first time this morning.

“where are those naughty fingers headed babe?” ellie’s raspy morning voice graced your ears as she lazily removed your hand from her boxers. you grinned when you looked up to see your girlfriend looking at you with droopy eyes but still a smug look on her face.

“nowhere.” you blatantly lied with a large smile on your face. ellie laughed softly and rolled her eyes playfully while binging your hands up to her mouth for a gentle kiss.

“you needy this early in the morning sweet girl?” ellie asked you innocently while continuing to trail loving kisses on all of your fingers.

you get our hole clench at the nickname as you nodded slightly at her question.

you sighed dramatically while slowly climbing on top of ellie’s torso to lie on top of her completely.“left me so lonely an needy last night baby.” you whispered into ellie’s ear breathily.

you felt her slightly shudder from your carefully chosen words and smirked to yourself when you felt her let go off your hand and start sweeping her own up and down your back, making sure to let her fingers linger on your ass that was barely covered by a pair of skimpy panties. “is that right pretty girl?” she imitated your breathy whisper into your ear.

“mhm-“ you were cut off by your own surprised whimper when you felt her firmly squeeze your ass.

you could feel ellie smirk against you at your vulnerable sound and to retaliate you smashed your lips against hers fiercely. both of you sighed into the kiss and began grabbing at eachother desperately in an attempt to ease the growing desire both of you shared.

the intense makeout session didn’t last too long because soon after it started ellie flipped both of you over so that you were helplessly trapped underneath her.

ellie pulled away from a second to look at how needy you looked under her and you looked right back at her swollen lips and messy her above you. a soft moment was shared between you two where you both just admired eachother bathed in the morning light before you pulled her back down so your briefly forgotten makeout session could continue.

as your lips were locked you barely felt ellie slot a leg in between your thighs and slightly press her knee into your core, making you moan into the kiss.

ellie pulled away from the kiss to begin planting hungry kisses down your neck, while you attempted to discretely rock your cunt against her knee. you felt her slightly pull away when she felt your gentle movements and looked you dead in the eye.

“are you humping my leg right now?” ellie asked you bluntly. you whined ellie’s name loudly at her humiliating question and covered your face in embarrassment while looking away.

before you were able to dig yourself into a hole and die of shame you felt ellie’s calloused hands reach up and gently take your hands away from your face. “no no no babe don’t hide it’s just really fucking hot.”.

you felt your body heat up in arousal but you reluctantly returned her intense eye contact. “really?” you asked her softly. “really.” ellie mumbled before going back to attacking your neck with love bites and hickies.

ellie roughly moved your panties to the side and used her middle finger to prod at your dripping hole.

“holy fucking shit babe this all for me?” ellie groaned when she felt how wet you had gotten in such a short period of times.

“all for you ellie.” you threw your head back in a moan as ellie started to insert her finger inside of you.

“feel good baby?” ellie mumbled while pushing her finger in and out of you at euphoric pace. “ah- yes feels s-so good ellie.” you stumbled over your own words as her fingers began to pick up pace.

without asking she firmly pressed another finger inside off you, stretching you out in a pleasurable way. ellie knew exactly what to do with her fingers and always knew how to make you feel good. her skilled fingers were hitting all of the right spots deep inside of you while you felt her thumb start to circle your clit with purpose.

as ellie’s fingers were drilling inside of you she made sure not to ease up on her rough kisses that littered your upper body. you were too busy reveling in pleasure to notice that at one point she had alf removed your tank top and had now begun to suck hard on your nipples.

“e-ellie too much.” you whined while tightly gripping onto ellie’s auburn locks to give you something to hold onto. ellie groaned at the feeling of her hair getting pulled and sucked harder on your boobs to make a hickey.

“you can take it pretty girl.” ellie responded gruffly. ellie’s words made you clench down hard on her which made her curse loudly.

“you’re so fucking tight holy shit.” ellie practically whined into your chest. the loud wet noises your pussy was making wasn’t helping ellie either and she started to unconsciously grind against your leg to try and relieve some of the building pressure inside her cunt.

before you were even able to notice it ellie began to feel you clamping down harder on her fingers, meaning that you were radially starting to approach your end.

“can feel you squeezing me gonna cum for me baby?” ellie asked you gently.

your uncontrollable moans didn’t allow you to give her a verbal response so you just nodded eagerly.

ellie grinned and started pistoning her finger inside you faster before latching onto one of your nipples to make you finish faster. luckily her efforts were not in vain because a couple of seconds later all of a sudden you and ellie both felt you clamp down on her harder than before and your eyes rolled back into your head. your orgasm was so powerful it caused your legs to shake and you had to pull ellie up to muffle your loud moan with a kiss.

once you hit your peak ellie immediately started whispering sweet nothings into your ear while she gradually eased her fingers out of you.

there was a moment of silence only filled with both you and ellie’s hard breathing as our both came down form the euphoric high.

once both of you had caught your breaths out saw ellie make a move to sit up. you watched as she maintained eye contact with you as she stuck her fingers still dripping with our release into her mouth.

“ewww ellie that’s gross!” you whined playully while slapping her fingers away from her mouth.

“no it’s not babe you taste so so so sweet i’m obsessed.” ellie grinned at you boyishly.

“whatever you freak come over here and cuddle” you sighed while jokingly rolling your eyes at her. ellie’s smile grows wider as she lies back down next to you and pulls you close to her chest with a satisfied smile.

after a couple quiet moments elllie speaks up to break it. “so does this make up for last night.” ellie teases you while rubbing your back soothingly.

“i guess it does.” you mumble into her chest. as soon as those words leave you or moth you feel ellie stop rubbing your back abruptly and take her head for your chin to look at you.

“what do you mean i guess i just fingerblasted the shit out of you before the sun was even fully up!” ellie angrily exclaims.

you giggle at her words and turn to look at the window that is still displaying the suns morning light.

“i don’t know it’s still pretty early i think you still have time to do some making up.” you look up at ellie’s bewildered eyes mischievously.

“it’s way too early for you to be this freaky.” ellie shakes her head with a half smile. “but i guess i you insist.

a/n: okay so hi everyone this is my first ever oneshot uploaded to tumblr so please have mercy on me. i have written anything in such a long time specifically smut but um i think this may have almost tuned out pretty okay idk you guys let me know. idk where this idea came to me but i mainly just anted to get something out i hope you guys enjoyed it i am dead set at improving my smut writing skills so much more to come hope you guys enjoyed!

[mysunshinetemptress]

Last Time

Alexia Putellas x reader

Warnings: Its short but its Pure fluff

Alexia sauntered back into your life like a melody you hadn't quite forgotten. You were, sipping your usual latte at the corner cafe, the city's morning hum a steady backdrop, when a familiar laugh shattered the comfortable buzz. There she was, hair a shade blonder than you remembered, eyes sparkling with that same mischievous glint.

You thought back to the last time you had laid eyes on the older girl, there had been a whirlwind of "one too many arguments" and the sting of a love left shattered. But seeing her again, the air crackled with a forgotten electricity. You drop your head slightly praying under your breath that she hasn't seen you, but you forget how observant the Catalonian is and sigh when you hear the chair across from you drag as she sits "Hola Y/n." you look up at the older girl your breath catching in your throat "H....Hi Ale." Alexia's cheeks turn a light shade of pink at the use of her nickname. You fall into conversation, hesitant at first, then tumbling into a comfortable rhythm, like pieces of a puzzle finally clicking back into place.

You find yourself sitting in her kitchen a few weeks later, trying to reconnect trying to navigate who you each are together how you fit into each other's lives as different people than the last time you spent this much time together

"Look," Alexia admitted, her voice laced with a vulnerability you hadn't seen before, "I know we messed up. But this time, there'll be no empty promises." Her gaze held yours, a silent plea for a second chance.

Memories flickered – stolen kisses in hidden corners, late-night talks that stretched into the sunrise. You saw the flicker of change in her eyes, a newfound determination that mirrored your own. This time, it would be different.

There were hesitations, of course. The memory of her leaving in the dead of night was a fresh scar. But with every shared laugh, every unspoken understanding that crackled between you, the trust began to mend. You saw the change in her, a newfound strength in her eyes.

Taking a deep breath, the conversation turned into a whispered promise the words tumbling out, "This is the last time." It wasn't just a declaration; it was a promise, a vow whispered on the wind. "The last time I let you go. The last time I fall for anyone else." You confessed, your voice thick with emotion.

A tear escaped the corner of Alexia's eye, a radiant smile blooming on her face. "Me too," she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. "This is the last time. The last time we break each other's hearts. This time, it's forever."

As the months followed there were remnants of the past, shadows of insecurities that lingered. But with each shared smile, each stolen kiss and words of love they seemed to melt away.

One night, as you walked hand-in-hand, Alexia stopped, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. "Remember when we first broke up?" she asked, her voice soft. "I realized, after the last fight, that I couldn't give you up."

You squeezed her hand, the memory a bittersweet echo. "This time," you murmured, your voice thick with emotion, "we're getting it right. This is the last time, Alexia. The last time falling in love. Because after you, there's no one else."

You had found your forever love, your last love, in the melody of a second chance.

[sunny-mercya]

Goth Moth

Shinichiro Sano x Male Reader

Fandom -> Tokyo Revengers

Requested by -> Anon

Masterlist

Your love for fashion—and your own style, a more philosophical approach to the much more darker beauty of life and death and all whats lay in the shadows beneath—had been stemmed from your older twin brother, by a hour as you had been a late baby—Wakasa.

It had already begun in the early teen years, when Wakasa—much to mothers disdain as she always nags in anger, that boys should be boys and if her own boys wants to be more feminine than she would have prayed for daughters to be born—had taken a interest in anything fashion related and you followed quick afterwards with the same quick starting passion.

In contrast to Wakasa, who likes to wear much more colourful clothes with mostly floral designs on it—his favourite being roses—you wore much darker themed clothes, more in the Gothic department.

Your gothic style—especially dark blue, almost pitch black, Blouses with ruffled cuffed and those few minimal touches of silver and white (and the occasional lone (f.flower), in homage to Wakasa as he had gifted you these when you were in the hospital) with tight skin hugging trousers—your trademarking outfit—is how you had met Shinichiro in the first place.

And it was your gothic style as well, which had earned you the silly nickname ��Goth Moth“ —thanks to both, Shinichiro and Wakasa—within the gangs and groups, although your only active role in said gangs and groups were that of a secretary.

~~~

It's a Saturday night and the restaurant—Wakasa had the bright idea to take you and Shinichiro, his one and only future brother-in-law, out for some dinner—was filled close to the maximum capacity of being overfilled with costumers.

The hours passed and all well went—Shinichiro having the most talk with Wakasa as you, despite your minijob, didn't really care for gang affiliation related topics—till some guys, one or two tables away from you, decided to spurt some drunken nonsense.

Shinichiro wouldn't be bother by it, having learnt to ignore such and choosing battles wisely, if it weren't for the fact that these drunken men were spurting some sexual and sexism words towards you.

You weren't bother by such either—having come across such bigotry and ignorance during your school years, you're used by it as your appearance in contrast to Wakasa weren't by the norm of society (not that you cared about such misconceptions anyway)—but it does bother Shinichiro the more he listen, because they have no damn right to utter such judgemental bullshit.

»Shin, leave them be. They're just drunk.« Wakasa tried to defuse, seeing how his friend got angered within the passing minutes—jaw clenched already.

»Fuck it. Let's fuck them up all bloody.« Wakasa had changed his mind in a instant, when one of those bastard did not only catcalled you—which was, doesn't matter what gender even, never okay to do so—but also shouted words to you, which shouldn't be repeated.

You sighed, shaking your head in disbelief—boys, you think, dumbasses you muttered—smudging some of your eyeliner, eyes gotten a bit dry from the cold air conditioner air.

~~~

Sitting in the park, next to Shinichiro—head leaned against his shoulder—with take away food and watching the sunrise, had something romantically to it.

Shinichiro and Wakasa—claiming to defend your honour and you just looked at your two dumbasses in confusion, because it wasn't like as if you weren't able to defend your supposed "honour" (both of them watched Mulan a bit too intense and much) yourself—did make their threat come true and with good violence dragged the men outside and beat them up.

After, it had been spontaneously decided to take a stroll through the city and the park—which leads to the now and here.

You wouldn't trade with what you have with Shinichiro for anything in the world.

»What's that for?« Shinichiro asked, a bit taken by surprise, when you gave him a kiss on the cheek.

»For nothing and everything,« you said, smiling.

[pshcomforts]

➳ always | psh.

idol!sunghoon x fem!reader

“i don’t want things to change, pray they’ll stay the same”

synopsis: you and sunghoon celebrate your 100 day anniversary!

warnings/content: written in third pov. fluffy fluff!!! it gets a teeny tiny bit suggestive but nothing happens. hoon and reader love to tease each other! reader also doesn’t do well with affection (lol). nicknames — gorgeous, loser, idiot, pretty. not proofread.

comments, likes, and reposts are appreciated :)

word count: 2.0k

a/n: this oneshot is in support of my followers reaching 500+ and bc i love you guys! thank you for always showing support one way or another, whether you comment/reblog or you’re a silent follower, you guys have made my account grow so much regardless! forever grateful for each and every one <3 so here’s a happy and comforting fluff!

༘˚⋆𐙚｡masterlist⋆.✧˚

current song playing: always by daniel caesar

↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

2:22 ─────────────|────── -1:22

the day dawned over as sunrise started to peek through the sheer window curtains, awakening y/n.

her eyes cracked open little by little, quickly searching around the room for her phone.

soon enough, the device was in her grasp — looking over the notifications received through the quiet night. a few text messages were shown here and there from her friends and her boyfriend, who was already gone due to his busy idol life.

then, a sudden notification had caught her eye.

୨⎯ don’t forget! 100 day celebration with hoon ׂׂૢ ⎯୧

y/n’s eyes sparkled with joy at the reminder. mind filled with exciting bliss in the thought process of finally getting a day off at work to frost cakes for fun with her boyfriend.

her body basically jolted from the built up anticipation, jumping up from bed to get a start on making the homemade cakes.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

as hours passed and the sun was setting down, sunghoon had finally reached the time to leave practice.

he quickly bid his members goodbye, leaving hybe building to get to where he called home.

“y/n?” he yelled after approaching inside the apartment.

instantly, the boy was hit with the smell of baked sweets — creating a lightly approved hum to be heard.

“gorgeous?”

his call was more worrisome now, a hint of curiosity showing through as he walked in to see his girlfriend with little frosting marks around her clothes.

“hi hoonie!” she cutely beamed with an eye smile.

sunghoon’s heart instantly lit up, fluttering as he took in the sight in front of him. he cleared his throat before replying back — “you finished baking the cakes?”

y/n nodded her head like an eager child. “yeah! i didn’t want to take too long baking because the frosting’s the fun part!” her exclaim had him abruptly smile.

“i wanted to bake with you though.”

his eyes scanned around the room, observing the cake batter slightly spilled around the dirtied bowls while the flour was around his girlfriend. he cracked a grin at her awkward stance after what he said.

“sorry.., i just thought you would’ve wanted to do the frosting because of how tired you might’ve been from practice.”

the male shook his head to reassure her with a playful manner taking over.

“it’s okay, pretty. i’m sure we can still have our fun frosting the cakes together.” his assurance made his girl smile, feeling a comforting warmth at the pit of her stomach.

“thank you..,” she blushed, cheeks reddening at the name call.

“being with me for 100 days has really made you go soft huh?”

“no!” her yell echoed in the quiet kitchen as she landed a smack on his arm afterward.

hoon faked the pain, grabbing at where he had been hit with an exclaim — “ow, y/n!”

the girl playfully rolled her eyes at his cheesy act.

“shut up hoon,” she murmured back with a half smile forming on her lips.

he hissed out a sigh, still going along with the same energy.

“not even gonna tend to your 100 day boyfriend?”

“it’s actually been a little longer than 100 days, so…”

hoon beamed a smile at the little reminder. “so are you still gonna frost cakes with your 100 plus day boyfriend or what?”

“yes hoonie, i am.” she softly replied back, getting the colors of the frosting ready as the cakes cooled down.

the boy hummed a — “good” — before approaching her and planting a kiss on her cheek. they quickly blushed a bright pink once her eyes met his, reflecting love as his did so too.

still meeting her gaze, he mumbled, “can’t wait to see the outcome of our cakes.”

the two smiled in unison after what he said.

sunghoon pulled her in, closing the gap between them to place a sweet kiss on her lips.

“are you gonna wear your practice outfit or do you wanna change into something else?” y/n asked, but breathlessly against him.

she felt his lips turn into a grin, replying with — “i’ll change into something more comfortable.” he clicked his tongue before leaving to her room.

as he changed into something more easing for the occasion, the girl spread out the bowls of frostings and mini cakes onto the table. she strummed in approval, grabbing an apron to tie around herself.

hoon then walked out to the living room, already having his apron on from grabbing it when walking to the bedroom. his eyes instantly landed on her body figure as she barely started to wrap it around her waist.

“want help with that?” he softly beamed with glimmered eyes.

she nodded, turning around so her boyfriend could reach the back ties.

the stance they were in made them a little awkward in the moment, everything quiet and still as she patiently waited to be done. he cinched it up close to her waist, hands being delicate with the back of her body.

his hands then snaked around her waist, pulling her into an embracing hug.

a gasp from y/n was heard from the sudden touch, cheeks unknowingly blushing as she said, “gosh hoon, that was sudden.”

his head rested on her shoulder, eyes closing from the warmth while only chuckling.

soon enough, she pulled away with a bright smile that reflected his.

“come on, we should decorate these cakes.”

her mumble was soft as she sat down, pulling him down with her as well. his gaze lingered to stay on her, but due to the compliance of her request, he decided to actually start frosting the cakes with her.

for the rest of the night, y/n and sunghoon continued to frost and decorate their lunchbox cakes — quiet music playing in the background as they talked to each other through different topics.

“are you almost done?” the pretty boy asked with an eyebrow raise.

she nodded her head with no attention turned to him, all focus completely put into the effort of making the cake look aesthetic.

taking note of this was too obvious in his eyes as he cracked a soft laugh at her — “you’re really focused on this, aren’t you?”

y/n nodded her head again with no response, leaving hoon to disappointingly shake his head in a playful way. he clicked his tongue in an attempt to catch her attention once more but couldn’t celebrate in victory of it.

“gorgeous?” sunghoon called out. “look at me.”

her head swiftly turned to finally look at the boy, only to be met with frosting suddenly landing on her nose.

she gasped loudly at the sweet cream placement — “PARK SUNGHOON!”

his face was immediately enlightened with joy at the name call, fangs and dimples showing up on display for her to see how much he enjoyed her distress.

“how dare you??” the girl whined, smudging off just a little bit of the frosting.

“sorry,” sunghoon snickered a laugh — “but you were too focused.”

“it’s my turn now!” y/n yelled out, fingers dipping into the frosting to get revenge.

he screamed a — “NO!” — as he backed away, only to land on his back with her on top of him.

she laughed at his fallout, hands attempting in every way to place the frosting somewhere near his face.

“stop fussing around hoonie, you started this!”

her voice echoed in the apartment with his laughs being the only thing heard from him.

“you’ll never get it on me!”

with his last words said, she eventually was able to swipe the frosting onto his cheek, earning a scream from him.

“NOOOO!”

hoon’s words were filled with tears of agony and she only giggled at his silly screech, analyzing his facial features to see how playful he was.

eye were shut, dimple was popping through, and full teeth were out for her to see.

“loser, that’s what you get.” y/n teased, nudging his shoulder with her hand like she always did.

he shook his head like a dog shaking its body after a bath, fluffy hair flopping around.

“you better not do it anymore,” she added in with a proud glint in her smile.

he playfully rolled his eyes, flashing another ear-to-ear grin at her as he said, “fine i won’t..,”

her body turned back to the direction of the cake before swiping another finger into the frosting, evil plan already forming in her head.

“hoon..?”

as soon as his face turned, she quickly let the frosting place itself on the tip of his nose. sunghoon shut his eyes at the sensation.

“Y/N!!”

as if the two had switched places, he began to wipe the frosting away and attempt to get back at her.

almost immediately, she was pinned under him, squirming around to leave his grasp but couldn’t due to his strong hold.

“hoonie, you’re supposed to just get me back, not pin me like this!”

y/n shook her head as his amused smile grew.

“i like this more,” he commented.

his finger went to her lips, letting the soft frosting touch them before swooping his head down. their lips connected as he tasted the sweet vanilla icing.

she kissed back and he softly smiled into it, pulling away not too long after to lick his lips.

sunghoon’s eyes glistened as his gaze locked onto hers, admiring just how gorgeous his girlfriend was.

“happy 100 days with you,” he gently murmured with a half smile.

y/n reflected his facial expression as her eye smiles creased — “happy 100 days, loser.”

his hands interlocked with hers, tangling together as they stayed in the same position. they both admired their partner, each in honest disbelief of how they even managed to find someone who got them like no other.

“can’t believe 100 days passed, time moves so quick when I’m with somebody like you.” he uttered, causing y/n’s face to scrunch.

a smile quickly formed on her face after, responding— “that was a little cheesy, hoon.”

the two mirrored each other’s grin, small laughs heard as he shook his head.

“i just wanted to tell you how much you mean to me.”

her eyes softened at his adorable confession, causing her cheeks to blush with his. she slipped her hands out of his hold, placing them on the sides of his face to pull him in for another soft kiss.

“through all the teasings, you mean the world to me.., idiot.”

her whisper was delicately against his lips as she pulled away, causing the males face to flush.

in realization of the butterflies he got, he forced himself to lift from their position, allowing her to sit up as well.

“let’s finish decorating these cakes, yeah?” he sweetly mumbled.

y/n nodded in agreement and the two turned back to their cakes that began to crust a little due to the lack of attention.

sunghoon placed a soft kiss on her cheek before fully going back, enjoying how rosy they got at the sudden affection she still wasn’t used to.

“stop it..,” she whined, secretly liking his little displays of affection that were only meant for her.

the girl nudged his shoulder, eyes not even wanting to meet his as she felt her heart thumping.

“go back to your cake.” she added on, taking a quick glance at him so she could admire his gorgeous features.

sunghoon didn’t say anything, just simply smiling and chuckling at his girlfriend before complying to her words.

the two continued to frost and decorate their cakes as the night began to come through.

soft music remained to be the mood maker for them, playing out as they laughed in constant unison of looking over at their fond memories of being together for a little more than 100 days.

more was definitely yet to come as they found their other half in human form.

the invisible string becoming tighter than before while creating more memories to look back on.

★・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・・★

a/n: just wanted to say again, thank you for always supporting one way another! unfortunately, i will be going on a quick hiatus just bc of finals. i won’t be able to write a lot with my focus on school for a little so for the time being, other requests in my inbox will be on hold but i’ll still be posting some of my old writings! so it’s just my new works that’ll be on hiatus (lol). thank you regardless! <33

[pers1st]

ducky

pairing: leah williamson x jordan nobbs x platonic!reader

notes: no plot just vibes, bit angsty, mentions of parental neglect

"It's too early", you groaned as Leah finally opened her apartment door for you, allowing Bella to jump up against your legs, the force of the dog almost making you fall backwards as your senses were still slowed from a good night of sleep.

"You say that every morning", Leah huffed, gently pulling the dog by her collar and allowing for you to finally step into the familiar flat. This place had been your home for just a year. It had surprised quite a lot of people for Leah to be the first to offer taking you in, mostly because the woman wasn't known to be too responsible, but both her and Jordan had watched your career since you'd played for the under 15's of England and were more than delighted when you'd finally signed your first professional contract, at only seventeen years old, for the Arsenal. The picture of the three of you after your Arsenal debut still sat on Leah's shelf by the shoe rack, where you discarded your sneakers as if this was still your place. You hadn't lived here for just a year, but the familiar warmth still welcomed you every morning that you found yourself back here, never regretting, though never admitting it either, that you had agreed to join your jokingly-called mother ducks for breakfast each sunrise.

"Is she here? Is ducky here?", Jordan yelled from the kitchen, where you found her sitting on her phone, looking up at you with a large smile on her face.

"Oh, thank God! I was starving", she chuckled as she rose from her seat to gently pull you into a hug. You made no move to wrap your arms around her smaller body.

"Too. Early."

Pulling the hood of your sweater above your head, you waddled over towards the stove, ready to start the food.

"Seriously, this is child labour", you huffed as you grabbed a carton of eggs from the fridge.

"You say that every morning, ducky", Leah snickered once more as she took a seat next to Jordan, following your movements with her eyes.

"Besides, you're an adult now", Jordan added, still scrolling on her phone.

"Yeah, and so are you two! Learn to cook!", you groaned as you threw the empty carton at Jordan's head, not caring too much when the woman protested, threatening to kick you out again. You knew that she wouldn't. She was starving, after all.

It was a few hours later when you were finally headed to Meadow Park, getting ready to start the last fixture of the season. You had slowly but surely made your way into the starting eleven at Arsenal, and had joined the lionesses camp for a couple of friendly matches before the home Euros this summer, which was still looming over your head. Both Leah and Jordan knew that you were in contention to make the squad, and were hopeful that you would join Leah and the rest of the lionesses, but you had great competition, and your call-up wasn't a given. Not yet. The last couple of matches in the Women's Super League, you had given your every bit and piece on the pitch, wanting to keep yourself relevant for the Euro's selection.

Jordan and Leah would do their best to cheer you up if you didn't make it, but they knew that, despite the prospect of getting to spend the summer with Jordan, cheering Leah on, you would be absolutely broken if you didn't make it.

"Hey, ducky, gonna score some bangers?", Katie smiled as you entered the changing room, not even bothering to act offended about your nickname. You had received it after just a few weeks of being at the club, when Katie and Beth had started realizing just how much you followed Leah and Jordan around when you had no clue what else to do, subsequently naming the pair your mother-ducks. Though annoying at first, you quickly grew to accept it, knowing that arguing would not help when it came to this group of women.

"Hopefully", you grimaced as you discarded your slippers. In the past few weeks, you hadn't been up to small talk much. The whole team knew that you wanted this international tournament with England -the home Euros - every footballers dream would be to play in your country, for your country. But they worried anyways. You had always put yourself under a lot of pressure, and while Leah and Jordan knew it was due to the fact that subconsciously, you were doing everything you could to impress your parents, who didn't even seem to follow your career in the slightest, they kept that fact about you hidden carefully from the rest of your teammates, even being unsure of how to speak about the situation to you.

In truth, you had been shocked when your parents had first allowed you to move to London and away from your home in Manchester to pursue a football career. You had been training in the Manchester City Academy for years, devoting yourself entirely to football, but your parents had never taken notice of your efforts, no matter how much you begged and pleaded for them to watch one of your matches.

You'd had to rely on your teammates' parents to bring you to and from training or matches, and the only thing your parents seemed to appreciate was the fact that you were mostly busy - with football or school, either way, away from their house. It was impossible to reason their behavior, to pinpoint an event that made them change the way they saw you. But you didn't have to - your new club, your new home, your new mother-ducks mostly kept you distracted, never allowing you much time to meddle with your thoughts, to get lost in them. Still, it was obvious to Leah and Jordan that while you faced this complicated relationship with your parents, you had never really dealt with it, and it became evident when you injured yourself in today's match.

Jordan had been the one to hook your arm over her shoulder in order to get you to the medical room steadily, without putting any pressure on your knee. She had been the one to hold your hand while the medical staff worked their way in an attempt to find out what exactly caused your pain, but from the way your knee had given into the right when it had collided with that of your opponent, your mind was set - it was an ACL. Nothing Jordan or Leah told you on the way home could change your mind - you were merely waiting for the confirmation that tomorrow's scans would bring - and so you put in your earbuds and drowned their somber voices out of your head, desperate to escape their attempts at soothing you. You didn't need pity, you needed to be back on the pitch. You needed to be at the Euros, needed to play, needed to keep yourself fit. In your mind, though, everything had already gone to shit.

Dismissing the two women who had settled in the living room after Leah's shower, you waddled, as best as you could on your crutches, towards the sink, pouring yourself a glass of water. As you leaned over the countertop to push the emptied glass back, you knocked down one of your crutches, the sound of it connecting to the floor startling Leah and Jordan as their heads turned, all the while you were cursing under your breath. Your knee was throbbing with pain, despite the medication you had been forced to swallow in the medical room of Meadow Park, but you were damned if you'd let Leah, who had already rose from the couch, reach down to the floor to grab it for you.

"I got it", she mumbled as she came up behind you, but you were quick to push her back.

"It's fine", you muttered as you bent your knee painfully slowly, bending over to pick up the stupid crutch from the ground.

"Are you still in pain? Do you want more medication? We've still got-"

"It's fine."

And with that, Leah and Jordan were forced to watch you hop back into your room, shutting the door quite harshly, without knowing what to do with you.

"She's taking this really hard", Jordan mumbled as Leah joined her on the sofa again, snuggling into her side with Jordan's arm wrapped around her shoulder.

"Yeah", the blonde answered, huffing. "You did, too. Anyone would", she sighed. It was the worst possible timing for an injury, but they had no clue that your demeanor was not only a result of frustration, but rather rooted so deeply in a fear that they had no way of understanding. You were so, so scared.

Everybody knew that you were in the most important part of your career - you were young, only eighteen, and tearing your ACL when you'd just began starting for one of the top clubs regularly, just when you'd began making appearances for your nation could ruin absolutely everything you'd worked for. It could send you off the Arsenal roster, could send you right back to your parents' house with no education, a messed up knee and no future. Those thoughts kept you up at night, but no matter how hard you tried to silence your sobs in the soft pillow, you should've known that both Jordan and Leah were light sleepers, and that it was only a matter of time until you had to reveal the mess unfolding in your head.

The time came at round two in the morning. You had been lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, no longer able to bear your thoughts and breaking out into violent sobs. Of course, Leah had heard you, and cautiously stepped into the room that had once been yours officially, switching on the light.

The sight of you scared her. In the year you'd spent living with her, and another year of being your teammate, she'd only ever seen you cry with Jordan when she'd injured her knee not long ago, and that was purely because you were an empathic person. This, though - it was different, and she knew.

"Ducky? Hey, what's wrong?", she asked cautiously, voice still thick with sleep as she stepped closer to your bed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to wake you."

Your voice sliced through the air shakily, hoarse, and so so small. Leah immediately pulled you into her as she lowered herself to the edge of your mattress, holding you closely as your frame shook with sobs.

"What's wrong? Talk to me, please", she begged, gently rocking you back and forth, still minding your knee which was packed with ice.

"I'm scared, Lee", you sobbed, just as the door creaked again and Jordan entered. If you didn't know any better, you would've believed she was sleepwalking, with the way she barely lifted her feet off the floor, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she scanned the room, pinching her eyes at the bright light.

It got the smallest of smiles to glisten on your lips, though it didn't last long.

"Of what?"

Leah asked, seemingly not having noticed her girlfriend in the doorframe.

"I can't- what if I have to leave? What if they get rid of me- what if- I can't go back there, Lee", you sobbed, crying even harder at the realization of just how scared you were. You had hoped that by proving to be a successful athlete, you could restore some of your parents' warmth in you. Showing up at their doorstep with a broken body and crushed dreams certainly was the worst-case scenario. It would rip you apart.

"Ducky, it's okay, calm down", Jordan asked of you, who had, in the meantime, settled by your feet, gently holding her hand out for you to grasp, which you did slowly after Leah released you from her grip.

"Nobody is going to get rid of you. We didn't get rid of Jordan either, look at 'er!", Leah chuckled as she watched her girlfriend shift into a position more comfortable for her own knee, never letting go of your hand.

"Besides, ducky, did you feel a pop in your knee?"

You shook your head. She had asked you this before.

"Did the pain go away after a few minutes?"

You shook your head again.

"Is your knee swollen? Do you feel like you can't move it?"

To all of those questions, you shook your head.

"Then I'll be damned if it's your ACL. You clashed knees, ducky. It's painful, and it's scary, but it's not the end of the world, it's not the end of your career", she hummed, gently lifting a finger to wipe a tear from your cheek.

"Wise words, Jordan. Never thought I'd say that", Leah chuckled, which immediately collected a laugh from you, even if you hadn't thought it possible just a few minutes ago. Jordan shrugged.

"Ducky is wiser than me", she sighed as she sprawled herself on your and Leah's legs, her back resting between your knee and your ankles by the very end of the bed.

"Thanks, guys. Go back to bed", you smiled at the dedication of the two women, seriously questioning where you'd be if it wasn't for them.

"What do you mean? We are in bed!"

And that was how you spent your last night in Leah's home with Jordan present, being pulled into the whirlwind of the Euros and the absolute bliss that came from winning it. Despite the fact that you were only granted a few minutes, usually towards the end of the matches, you were named the "super-sub", and gained quite the following on your social accounts. One thing never came though, and that was a message of your parents. Not even a little "congrats" text, no - instead, there was complete radio silence.

It was easy to forget about it in the afterglow of your win, and how quickly the season started off again. It was easy to forget about a lot of things, apparently, because you only noticed something seemed to be off when Leah glared as you let yourself into her apartment with the key she'd given you.

"Morning", you shouted into the space as you discarded your shoes, as usual, the slightest bit more awake given the fact that you had today off, meaning breakfast omelettes were served a little later than usually.

"Morning, ducky", Leah sighed from the kitchen as you joined her, noticing the lack of mother duck number two.

"Where's Jords?", you asked as you opened the fridge, pulling your hood above your head as usually to remain warmer.

"Not here, obviously", Leah gave back, and at that, you stopped in your tracks. Come to think of it, you hadn't seen Jordan for breakfast for about a week now. So far, Leah had always given you a good enough reason - her parents were in town, she was sick and didn't want to infect you and Leah, she had to take care of Blu.

This, however? Something was sketchy about it. The lack of interaction between your mother ducks during training or matches replayed in your head - how Jordan had stuck to Katie and Caitlin recently, seemingly only conversing with Leah when you were present as well. Something was sketchy.

"Why?", you asked, dragging out your word as you turned around to see Leah sitting at the kitchen table, looking back at you with something resembling defeat in her eyes.

"We broke up", she mumbled, her voice barely audible for you. Still, you understood her.

Her words took you aback, so much so that you completely disregarded your task, joining Leah as you sat across from her. Leah and Jordan had broken up. It all came back to you now - there had been a weird tension in the dressing room recently, but you hadn't noticed it until now that you thought back to it. Leah and Jordan only talked to each other when you were present. The past few breakfasts had been spent listening to you talk and talk and talk in a desperate attempt to hide the gaping hole of disappointment in your parents. Jordan hadn't been here in a week - to watch Blu?

"Why?", you asked, your tone matching hers.

"I don't know. It's complicated."

"When?"

At this point, you were bargaining for any kind of information.

"About a month ago?"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

This time, your voice sounded hurt. You trusted Leah and Jordan with everything - opening yourself up completely, and although you knew that you were a lot younger than them, and somewhat like their kid, it hurt you to know that they had not even considered letting you know about this.

"You're still young, ducky. We just thought-"

"Thought what? That I wouldn't notice?"

Leah sighed at that, defeatedly, once more. You immediately regretted your harsh tone, knowing that your mother duck number one was going through a break up right now. If the two of them breaking up seemed impossible to you - how must it have felt for them?

"We just- I don't know. I'm sorry, ducky." Despite the emotions that must have been cursing through her, Leah smiled softly as you pushed yourself up from your chair and into her arms, burying your face in the crook of her neck as you let her rub your back comfortingly.

"Me too, Lee."

Things changed after the breakup, but not really for you. You alternated between Leah's and Jordan's flat, not caring about the both of them whining how hungry they were every other day, instead teaching them how to make an omelette, because it truly was time for them to learn. The two women were, as it seemed, on friendly terms as they still crowded around you whenever either they wanted something or you simply craved the both of their presence.

Jordan returned to the pitch shortly after the Euros, and for a brief lapse of time it truly seemed as if the three of you had fallen into a new routine, a different one, that worked-

That was until Jordan sat you down after practice one day, long after everyone else had left, and told you about her future departure of the club.

"You're leaving?", your tone seemed almost choked as you put your head on Jordan's shoulder cautiously, her words replaying in the back of your head all over again.

"Yeah. It's time for me to move on, to do something new. I'm old, ducky. It's time", she huffed, and you could tell by her tone that she was close to tears as well.

"But you love this club", you voiced, not understanding why Jordan felt the need to leave. Was it Leah? Was it you?

"I know. I do. But I don't get any minutes here, and I want to play football, ducky."

At that, you held your breath. Ever since the Euros, you had become a regular starter for Arsenal. Often in Jordan's position. You had taken her spot.

"I'm sorry, Jords. I didn't mean to-"

"No, ducky. Absolutely not. I will not have you apologize for being great. You are so young, and you deserve this more than anyone I know. You will be incredible for this club, I know it. Don't apologize", she immediately interrupted you, gently brushing her finger through your hair.

"But I took your place", you mumbled, the realization coming in slowly that Jordan wouldn't be here in a few months.

"No, you didn't. You earned your place. Matter of fact, I gave it to you."

You could hear by her tone that she was smiling, and you had to chuckle at her words.

"But you'll visit me, right? And I'll visit you?", you asked cautiously, the thought of not seeing your mother duck again suddenly climbing through your chest.

"You'll visit me, and I'll visit you. And I'll show you how good I'll get at making omelettes. I'm not leaving you, ducky."

The day she actually left the club was easily one of the hardest of your life. Leah's speech had you crying into Jordan's shoulder, and you were too far gone to say any of the words you had written down yourself to send off your mother duck. But you slipped Jordan the note before she left, letting her take you into one last hug before watching her get into her car and drive off.

Throughout the rest of the season, many of the girls joked that you would become an Aston Villa fan, given your dedication to watch every match of theirs, often in person. In the end, you truly found your footing at Arsenal and in the England team, relying on both of your mother ducks immensely whenever you needed to. They were both there for you, no matter what distance separated the three of you, and although you knew it was far more difficult for them, both Jordan and Leah kept their promises, often traveling back and forth for the three of you to see each other again.

[noxturnalnymph]

Devotion 🖤 II. Predator or Prey? (Ch 5)

CultLeader!Joel x OFC!Reader

Series Summary: When is it enough? When is it too much? When does Devotion become Obsession?

Visit the Series Masterlist for series warnings, cult info, timeline info, and HCs on ages. Reader has a nickname and some minor physical descriptions - is an OFC from Reader POV.

*This series is 18+ MDNI. I will not be listing individual chapter warnings as I don't want to spoil the plot of each chapter. Please see the series masterlist for entire series warnings to decide if this is for you.*

⚠️PLEASE PAY ATTENTION TO THE SERIES WARNINGS, ESPECIALLY: possessiveness, manipulation, Joel gets mean, Joel gets verbally and physically abusive.⚠️

LAYOUT OF JOEL'S HOUSE

PREVIOUS

II. Predator or Prey?

CH 5 (6.1k) Joel doesn’t see a single hair on your head for days, Tess is guarding you like a mother bear, refusing to let him even peer in your doorway. Still sick, she keeps muttering to him, leave her alone she says repeatedly. Who the fuck does she think she is to tell him what to do? This is his fucking house. And yet she keeps sending him out of it, keeping him the busiest he’s ever been in the community. He leaves at sunrise and comes back long after dark.

Then, finally, he walks into his house on Christmas Eve after having been out all day and you’re wrapped in a blanket, sleeping in the chair in front of the fireplace. He stands over you, watching you sleep until a noise from the kitchen wakes you, your startled eyes darting around and meeting his intense stare. Your eyes are wild once again looking up at him, a heady combination of fear and anger. He drinks it in.

You quickly dart your eyes back to your lap and that’s where they stay for the rest of the evening. Even when you’re sitting at the dinner table next to each other, and when he’s standing in front of you at the valley gathering to sing Christmas Carols in the large church around the town square. You won’t look up.

The next morning the household all gathers together to exchange Christmas gifts. Joel watches you open the gift he wrapped for you, after he told Tess that you would be his giftee and not the random name she had drawn for him. You pull the twine and old newspaper away from a tattered paperback copy of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, turning it over in your hands to inspect the ripped cover. 

He waits with bated breath as you look it over and then, without even a glance in his direction, you set it down at your side. That used to be his favorite book, the one he would read to Sarah when she was very young and bored of her little children’s board books. He remembers how much she loved him doing low, rumbled voices for the Gorgons and would giggle when he described all the different creatures Arthur encountered in his travels through the galaxy.

But you don’t react, you don’t say anything, you don’t look at him. He feels his guts tightening, pulling inwards, igniting a low, burning flame of anger. He clenches his teeth and tries not to audibly growl as the day proceeds on and you ignore him as if he were invisible. As if you couldn’t feel him staring at you. As if he weren’t a hulking, burning man sitting within inches of you all day and night. 

–

Two days later, the Thursday meeting is wrapping up and you’re moving as quickly as possible, to be able to walk with the rest of the group back to the house. The last farmer breaks off from you and Joel, and you can see the front porch in the near distance, quickening your steps to make it inside the house as rapidly as possible. You hear him close behind you, matching your pace and just before you reach the door handle he grabs your wrist.

He pulls you backwards into his chest, wrapping his arms around your waist and splaying his hand over your stomach, pressing his nose into the back of your head and inhaling your scent. He’s gripping you so hard you can barely struggle against him. When you gonna get over this, baby?, he growls in your ear. Baby. You’re not his baby. You tell him so as you try and wrestle your face away from his, the scraping of his stubble along your neck, the moist heat of his breath. 

“Yes you are, you’re mine.”

He hates the way you thrash in his arms, the way you avoid his gaze day in and day out. He hates that you haven’t even thanked him for the Christmas gift, that you left it sitting still on the floor in the family room. He hates that you’re making such a big deal out of a stupid little blow job. What was he supposed to do? You were too sick to take care of him, so he found relief where he needed to. It’s nothing new, this is how it's always been. He deserves to be taken care of.

He lets go of you and you bolt upstairs into your room. He hears the lock click behind you.

He was so close. So fucking close. He almost had you, how did you slip through his fingers? He knows how. He made a mistake. His mistake was letting you think that you had some kind of exclusivity to him, some kind of claim on him. How could you think that after all this time? You’ve been here long enough, you should know better. You should know how this place works by now. What makes you think you get to tell him what he can and can’t do, that you get to decide what goes on in his house? This was your fault. You were wild once, you were free. But you gave in like all the rest of them, you gave up, you let him tame you. Why did you do that? Why were you so easy for him to break?

–

You’re being so fucking sensitive, acting like a kicked puppy. It’s New Year’s Eve and he’s had to stare at his Christmas gift on the floor for a week now. He can’t even walk through that room without getting pissed off. The way you’re acting like a spoiled fucking brat, flinching when he goes to touch you and sitting in silence at every meal. Yesterday at the interfaith service, he filed in with the rest of the household and watched you try and sit in the third row instead of your usual place with the other women in the second row, directly behind him. How fucking childish you are. He gets up out of his seat when he notices and grabs you by the hair, ignoring your pathetic little cries, Tess’ pleading with him to stop, and the startled gasps of those around him. He drags you to the second pew and throws you down next to Tess, where you belong. All of this nonsense because you won’t forgive him. No – not forgive – he doesn’t need fucking forgiveness. You’re just playing the victim, like you always do. God, he should have seen the writing on the wall. He should have known that you were never gonna be satisfied with what he gave you, even when he gave you so much. You only ever wanted more, all you did was take. There you are again, creeping around the edges of the room, trying to hide yourself from him. As if he can’t fucking see you, as if he can’t fucking feel your presence in the room. He’d tried to follow you when you darted off immediately after arriving tonight but Tess redirected him to the old theater that was used as a dance hall. He had people to talk to, she’d said, as if he gave a shit about what any of them had to talk about. He has his own fucking problems right now, he shouldn’t have to listen to Peter blabbering about whatever stupid issues he was having with his furnace. Or was it his roof? Who fucking knows, Joel isn’t even listening to him. He sees you dart into a shadow and he excuses himself to Peter as he’s already walking away. You need to grow the fuck up and stop playing these stupid, childish games.

Is Joel doin’ okay? 

People keep asking Tess. They’re too reverent of him to be specific in their questioning, they won’t say that he seems off or cranky or downright distracted. But they can see it as well as she can. He’s grasping at you as you dodge him in the hallways at home and now he’s started doing it in public. She watches him grab your arm and push you against the wall at the New Year’s Eve party and she crosses the room as swiftly as she can without drawing unwanted attention. 

She hears him snarling I’m the only one who fuckin’ knows you as she pulls him off you, leaving you to scuttle away and find another dark corner to hide in. Joel pushes against Tess’ grip on him, knocking her backwards so she almost stumbles over a row of chairs. Before she can fully lose her balance he’s grabbing her arm, hard, pulling her back upright and then snapping at her.

“Why are you so fuckin’ clumsy?”

Several people nearby whisper to each other but Tess smiles and attempts to laugh off the incident as a joke. She sees he’s starting to lose it, that the cracks are starting to show. His foul mood is permeating the very air around him, threatening to rot everything they’ve worked so hard to build. She feels like she has to do something, she just doesn’t know what.

–

The following Thursday you just barely beat him up the steps inside the house and by the time he’s rattling the door handle of your room you’ve locked yourself securely inside. He’s scaring you. You were hurt by him. So hurt. And you were mad. So fucking mad. But now? Now you’re mostly just scared. You don’t think he would touch you without your permission but he’s been getting physical with you, powerful and rough, growling nasty shit in your ear and subtly suggesting your permission is inevitable.

Two days later you return to the house with Sasha after your baths and scamper up to your room only to find the door gone, removed from its hinges completely. No more locked doors in this house without my permission, Joel announces as he stands – smiling – at the bottom of the stairs, inescapable. You try to brush past him on the way down but he pulls you close, shoving his face into your neck and biting firmly at your jaw. Your hands fumble on his shirt, clawing to push him away, telling him to get away from you.

With a huff he pushes you backwards, your back colliding with the stairway wall and rattling the framed artwork hanging there. He loosely wraps a hand around the column of your throat and holds you there.

“Get away,” he mumbles. “S’my fuckin’ house and you want me to get away?” 

He stands there a moment longer and squeezes your throat with just enough force to demonstrate that he could do more if he wanted, but instead he turns to walk away. Just then the front door opens and you see Tess returning with an armful of scavenged items. Seeing an opportunity to escape out the door you tense your body to run, but you hesitate. You make the mistake of looking over at Joel before you go and he’s looking right at you. You bolt forward but before you even clear the threshold of the door his fist is in your collar, yanking you backwards onto the floor.

“You can’t fuckin run from me, girl,” he points his finger in your face where you lie. “You can’t fuckin’ escape.” He grabs the front of your shirt to lift half your body off the floor, closing the distance between his face and yours. “I’m already in there…” he taps his finger in the middle of your forehead. “You’ll never be rid of me.”

The sting of his words hurts worse than the callous way he lets your body drop back to the floor. You hate to admit he’s right. He’s already in your head, you think about him constantly even still, even after what he did. You feel him deep inside of you, digging his claws in, settling in for permanent residency. You know you’ll never be the same, that you’ll never be without him again. You’re possessed by him.

That night after dinner Joel makes an announcement. No one is allowed to leave the house without his permission and no one goes anywhere alone. Tess audibly scoffs at his announcement before she’s cowed by his sharp glare in her direction. You remain silent beside him. He saw the way you looked at that open door, he knew you were going to flee. He won’t lose you. He can’t. 

You belong to him.

–

On Monday, Tess assigns you to hunt and gather with Sasha, which should keep you out of the house all day. You’re not sure how much of the crazy look in his eyes Tess actually sees, but he’s becoming more cruel and unpredictable. You know he’s just acting out because you’re not giving him what he wants, which he’s clearly used to getting. You don’t think he’d really hurt you, you don’t think the other women would allow him to hurt you, but you’re becoming more doubtful with each outburst that he has. 

You’re so happy to be out of the house and away from his constant scowl and ever-watchful eye and Sasha doesn’t put up a fight when you offer to separate from her. You point out that you can cover more ground apart but that’s not the real reason you want to split up.

You like Sasha, she has a no-bullshit attitude and talks to you like she’s known you forever, making her really easy to be around. You’re able to easily ignore the fact that she’s most definitely slept with Joel because she’s smart, resourceful, and strong – things you don’t consider yourself – and she makes you feel safe when you’re with her. Sometimes you think that maybe you spent too much time with your head in the clouds fantasizing about Joel when you should have been learning from Sasha instead. You’ve learned more survival techniques in the last month than you have in the last decade, and that’s all because of her. She’s been a great teacher and she doesn’t make you feel stupid or useless – although you make yourself feel that way sometimes. Part of you wants to tag along with her but you think she might be easier to convince to let you come with her again if you stay out of her way today. 

It’s cold but not snowing and you’ve bundled up with the winter gear Tess gave you from their last raid. You explore the edges of town, places you’ve never been before. You pass by some abandoned buildings but know they’ve all been picked over. You’ve rarely been out this far from the house before, and never alone. Joel and Tess would let you go fishing and set traps with Sasha but always preferred that you keep closer to home, Joel especially seemed to want you to stay in the yard if you weren’t with him.

It’s kind of exciting to explore the borders of the small mountain town on your own, fulfilling a sense of adventure while being almost perfectly safe, as all the buildings have already been cleared and are routinely patrolled. But you feel a bit of freedom out here, freedom that Joel has been taking from you bit by bit. You feel lighter, unencumbered by the weight of Joel’s expectations and his hands constantly pawing at you. At the house you feel like a bird in a cage, and walking through the snow-capped buildings today reminds you of what independence feels like.

There’s a loosely constructed barricade along the valley-facing edge of town made from broken down cars wedged together, building materials from deconstructed buildings, and logs from felled trees. Along the mountain-slope side of the town, there’s less of a structure – the rocky woods being protective enough on its own. There’s still some repurposed fencing that runs along sections of the hill, with paths walked by the patrols snaking in and out. It’s along one of these sections of fence that you find a large overgrown thicket of sumac bushes. 

Conical clusters of deep, red berries still hang heavy on the branches, bowing them down to the snow-dappled earth. You remember your dad giving you lessons on the Sumac bushes that grew on the bike path near your house growing up. The fuzzy red berries are edible, but sumac with smooth, white berries are poisonous. You know these berries are okay to eat but you’re not sure how good they’ll taste, since they most likely ripened months ago.

You break off some of the better-looking bunches, putting them into the satchel slung over your shoulder. Your stomach rumbles, reminding you how you barely ate breakfast this morning. Out of the corner of your eye you watched Joel scowling at you until you lost your appetite and asked to be dismissed from the table. The berries aren’t as plump and juicy as they once were but they are tart and filling – once you’ve eaten enough of them.

You head into the center of the thick brush, shielded from the biting wind amongst the dense leaves. You find a comfortable spot to rest and pick at the bush, mindlessly eating the small, scarlet berries. You start to feel alone, to feel lonely. You think about your search for Bianca on New Year’s Eve. You’d looked in every building around the main square, but just like Thanksgiving and Christmas Eve, you didn’t see her. The dance hall was your last place to look for her and all you’d found was Joel - the one person you were working your hardest to avoid. 

You were reeling from what happened, from witnessing what still makes you sick. Even now you feel a knot in your stomach, biting back tears whenever you’re left with your thoughts too long. What’s worse is that the pain and suppressed jealousy is renewed every time you see Kerri. You weren’t sure what kind of comfort Biance would even offer you but maybe if you asked her about Joel, you could see the truth in her eyes. Did she know? Had she fucked him? What were you supposed to do? 

How can you move on from what feels like nothing short of a betrayal? 

Maybe you’re being over-dramatic, maybe you should get over it. That’s what Joel keeps telling you - just move past this – muttering it into the wood from the other side of your closed bedroom door. But it twists like a knife stuck into your insides and squeezes your heart tight like it’s going to stop beating. You’ve given him nothing but trust, and he’s lied to you — just like the rest of them. He’s just like the rest of them. The tears that run down your cheeks chill you, so you bury your face in your knees, waiting out the time you wanted alone. Is this what you wanted?

When you meet back up with Sasha to head home you proudly show her your harvest. She looks them over and tells you that they’re a bit dried out but would most likely still be tasty and has several ideas of what to use them for. She says you did a good job but you wonder if she’s just being nice, seeing as how she has two rabbits slung over her shoulder and a satchel full of rattling black walnuts as well as heaping boughs of conifer needles she says are for medicinal uses. She asks how many of them you ate and you find yourselves laughing together when she points out how stained red your fingertips and tongue are.

Sitting around the dinner table that night however, there’s no laughter. Everyone eats in near silence, only interrupted by Tess’ low voice quietly asking Sasha if the afternoon was prosperous. You’re pushing food around your plate, waiting for Joel to dismiss you from the table when he grabs your left hand roughly. Your fork clatters to the plate, piercing the quiet of the meal.

“What’s all this? Blood?” he nods towards your red-stained fingers, looking at Sasha down the table, expecting an answer from her instead.

“N– no! T– the red is from berries sh– we picked today,” she stumbles.

“Berries?” he scoffs. He makes a show of looking around the table, sweeping his free hand over the surface. “Where are they?” He finally looks at you but you don’t lift your head to meet his eyes. “You didn’t bring any to share?” He squeezes your fingers together painfully. “Ate them all yourself?” he rumbles.

“They’re downstairs,” Sasha interrupts, earning a sharp look in her direction. He doesn’t say anything but the why is obvious on his face. She continues, “They’re kinda dried out so I thought they’d be better fully dried and then we can use them–”

He raises his free hand up to silence her, still squeezing your fingers tight in his other hand’s grip. 

“You don’t like the food we feed you here?” he gestures to your half-full plate of cold food. Your eyes remain cast down. “Hmm?” he squeezes tighter until you wince.

“Joel,” Tess starts.

“Shut up,” he barks, not looking at her.

“Maybe you’re full from all the dried up fuckin’ berries you ate today.”

He throws your hand down on the table and stands up next to you. He grabs your plate and lifts it over your head before throwing it forcefully against the wall behind you. The plate shatters, the food splattering against the wall and sliding down to the floor. Joel’s face is back at your ear instantly. His hot breath wafts across your face as he snarls at you.

“If that fat little belly is so full of berries you can’t even eat your dinner, why don’t you head up to bed?”

You hesitate, afraid to move.

“Now!” he screams, and slams his fist down on the table, causing plates and silverware to rattle loudly, making everyone at the table to jump.

You get up and run up the stairs to your bedroom. You lie facing away from the open doorway, this position serving as your only form of privacy. Hours later when everyone else heads to bed you hear his lingering footsteps in the hallway and hear him announce that no one is allowed to eat food outside of the house without his permission. He’s talking to everyone but you can tell he’s facing you when he says it. He lingers there for a while before you hear him retreat to his room, slamming the door loudly behind him.

–

You wake up early in a panicked sweat and think you’ll beat him to breakfast but find him already at the table silently watching, waiting. You have to get away from him today, you’re jumping at every little thing, the scrape of his knife across the plate and the movements of his feet under the table. You spend breakfast being watched again, picking at the eggs on your plate. He stares you down for a while and then huffs loudly, muttering under his breath.

“You better eat your fuckin’ breakfast or I’ll fuckin’ feed it to you myself.” 

You beg Tess to let you go out foraging again, thinking Sasha will be okay with splitting up again. Tess allows it and Sasha reluctantly concedes that you can split up, strongly advising you to find somewhere quiet to lie low. She passes you some jerky, shelled walnuts, and drinking water from her pack before quickly plaiting her long, light hair. She tells you she’s going to head towards the old ski resort, but says that you have to stay close to town and out of sight. Her blue eyes are piercing as she makes you promise to meet up at the entrance of the old cemetery just before sunset so you can head back to the house together.

This plan goes off without a hitch and Sasha returns with enough foraged and scavenged items that it’s completely believable that you were both working to collect them, even though you spent the entire day wandering around the old lumber mill. There’s nothing to do there but it’s been cleared of infected so you know it’s safe. It’s also surrounded by woods and separated by a creek from the old inns and apartment buildings filled with Valley residents, so you know no one will see you there.

You repeat the pattern for the next several days and on the third morning you swipe a blanket from the couch and a book from Joel’s office after he leaves. You’ve spent the days stacking scraps of wood into makeshift furniture as if the mill was your own little rough-loft apartment, and are going to spend today reading about Dr. Alan Grant and Dr. Ellie Sattler’s terrible visit to Jurassic Park. You’ve gotten comfortable here, letting yourself relax in a way that you can’t at home.

Joel is watching you morning, noon, and night, and you don’t even have a bedroom door to stop his prying eyes. You should feel exposed here in this wide-open room, left alone all day, but you feel the opposite. At home you hear his grumbling voice, even when you can’t make out the words, you still hear it like a constant buzz in the background. But at the mill in the woods you only hear the soft sounds of the nearby creek and the gentle pat pat pat of the dripping snow being melted off the roof by the mid-day sun. You feel protected here in your clandestine daytime accommodation, you feel unshackled. The idea that you could transform a run-down abandoned thing into a comfortable and beautiful space fills you with a sense of beauty. You snuggle into your blanket and dive into the book. Eventually you close your eyes, letting your mind replay the scenes from the movie that you so distinctly remember from your childhood – the vibrations of the T-Rex’s steps, spattering rain on large, tropical leaves, the screeching of the raptors.

You wake up to complete darkness and a freezing rain misting against the half-broken windows. Shit. You’ve completely lost all track of time and have fallen asleep on your wooden cot, bundled snugly in a blanket with your book laid over your face. You’ve missed your late afternoon bath, you’ve missed your meet up with Sasha, you’ve maybe even missed your weekly meeting with Joel. You sit up in a panic as you recognize Sasha’s voice calling out for you. Shit! Then you hear a second voice, higher-pitched, calling your name out, followed by a deep rumble, almost barking your name. Fuck. You’re so fucked, the whole house is looking for you. He’s looking for you.

It’s Thursday and you should’ve been home hours ago, the sun having long since set. You should both be at your meeting right now but Joel’s heart nearly seized up when Sasha came home, late herself, without you in tow. She explained you’d gotten separated on the way back from the abandoned resort and she hadn’t been able to locate you. He sent Tess to the meeting in his place and threw on two pairs of socks and his warmest coat, envisioning having to hike a while to find where you might be hiding from him.

Sasha tells him that she last saw you by the old cemetery, so that’s where they start, Rosie throwing on a raincoat and volunteering to join in the search. The three of them quickly cover the cemetery and then work their way across some old cornfields, moving towards the community center. About forty minutes into the search he's beginning to think about doubling back when his flashlight hits a moving figure trotting across the softball fields. There you are. 

“Sorry,” you shout, your voice breaking, waving your arms over your head and making your way towards them in the dark.

He waits until you get closer to unleash his rage. Once you’re within his reach he grabs the scarf tail hanging out the front of your jacket and yanks you against him. You sputter with the force and reach to your neck to loosen your scarf but he blocks your hands, grabbing the front of your jacket with both fists and lifting your feet off the ground.

His face is so close to yours you can feel the moist heat wafting over your face, and spit from his angry muttering hitting your lips. Where the fuck have you been? Weren’t you fuckin’ listenin’ to me when I said you couldn’t go out alone? What are you thinkin’? You begin to cry, a strangled wail slipping out of your mouth. You’re not fuckin’ thinkin’, are you baby? There’s not a thought in that stupid little fuckin’ head. Your body is heaving with sobs now, tears streaming down your face. He lowers you back to the ground but holds you still.

The walk back to the house is silent except for your weeping, Joel clutching you tight to him as the other women trail behind. When you get inside you’re sniffling and shivering and Joel takes you upstairs to the bathroom. Kerri, who has been boiling water for a hot bath pending your arrival, gets the other women to help her bring several buckets of hot water to fill the tub, while Joel runs cold water from the tap to make it a more comfortable temperature.

Everyone leaves you and Joel alone in the bathroom and he robotically begins to peel your cold, damp clothes off your trembling body and pile them on the floor. You’re going to be completely naked in front of him. The only other time that happened, the situation was very different. You sniffle, looking towards him, trying to read his expression but his face is stone, impassive and stiff. You stifle a sob.

You let him strip you down to your underwear before you let out a whimper, too scared to say anything or bat his hands away. Shush, he mutters, turning you away from him by the shoulders. You face the steaming water, tears still silently dripping down your face. You’re almost naked now and cold, so cold, his hands feel burning against your skin. He undoes your bra at your back and lets you pull it down your arms as he unceremoniously tugs your underwear down your legs. This is it. You’re exposed.

You jolt as he grabs your upper arm roughly and guides you to step into the tub, letting go as you sink down into the hot water. You hiss as it feels scalding against your cold, clammy skin and when you sit and turn back to face him you find the room empty. He’s gone, left the door wide open, left you by yourself. You sit in the tub in the big, cold, empty room and begin to cry again, quieter this time. You think you really fucked up. Joel’s furious with you and Sasha and Tess are probably mad too. 

You silently sob, shaking with fear at what he might do to you, how he might retaliate. A knot in your stomach forms at the idea that he’d put his hands on you, that he would touch your body for pleasure when the thought of him only causes you pain. But then a sickening thought forms in the back of your mind that you’re such a pain in his ass that he probably doesn’t even want you anymore. You’re just a burden to him at this point, a helpless little baby he has to look after. Can’t be trusted to do anything useful around this house, can’t even be trusted to spend an afternoon alone without turning up wet and freezing cold.

–

You’ve been hugging your knees and letting your sorry self bawl into the bathwater until it turned tepid. Joel hasn’t returned and you haven’t heard his footsteps out in the hallway. You stand up and drain the tub, beginning to shiver once again as the cold air hits you. Without a towel to grab you tiptoe – still dripping wet – the few feet to your bedroom. Once inside you grab a blanket off your bed and wrap it around yourself, wicking away the water droplets on your skin and warming you back up. You climb into bed wrapped up like that, curling on your side with another blanket on the bed overtop you.

You’re startled out of your almost-sleep by the weight of a body sitting on the bed at your back. Fear strikes like a knife through your heart, knowing it’s him. 

“Come ‘ere…” you barely hear his throaty growl. 

You dare to hesitate and he springs into action, throwing the covers off you and dragging your naked body out of your blanket cocoon, throwing you – legs still flailing – over his knees. You open your mouth to cry out but a warm hand clamps over it firmly, silencing any protest you could make. Unbidden tears spill out of your eyes, running down over his fingers and falling to the floor below.

“You disobey me and you get punished,” he says matter-of-factly.

He begins with swats to the back of your thighs, your yelps completely muted by the heavy hand wrapped around your jaw. He doesn’t give you time between strikes to recover, nor does he pause to soothe your skin or offer you any comfort. You want to squirm away from the sting but you’re too scared of what he’ll do if you try to fight him. 

He delivers smacks to one cheek just long enough for it to almost go numb, before switching to the other. His blows land over and over, sharp and hot, unrelenting. You continue to cry, soaking his hand at your face, fighting to remain as still as possible despite every instinct in your body screaming to do the opposite. You’re not counting but it must be at least two dozen strikes before he finally stops.

You lie still and stinging, his denim-clad thighs rough and still rain-damp against your ribs. He remains above you, hands pulled back to his side, panting but mute. Eventually he shifts you off his lap and gently tucks you back into bed, his tender touches belying the harsh discipline he just doled out. He moves to the doorway and stops, his back to you, his head lowered. His voice rumbles deeply but clearly, to be sure you can hear him.

“I don’t know what you were tryin’ to do, but I swear to god, if you ever defy me again I will make you fuckin’ regret it.”

—

Tess returns from the meeting hours later, walking in the house to what looks like the middle of an argument. Joel has Sasha up against the wall in the front hallway, one hand splayed out on her chest pushing her back flush and the other hand pointing a finger in her face. Tess can’t make out what’s being said but Joel clearly doesn’t let her entrance interrupt him. 

Then – to her surprise – she watches as Sasha slaps Joel across the face. Joel takes several steps back, looking quite surprised. She sees his face go dark and pulls his own hand back, bringing it forward to reciprocate, knocking Sasha several feet over from where she was standing. But Sasha is ready for it, she takes the hit, absorbs it, and catches herself before she falls too far. She almost immediately rights herself, standing back in front of Joel, chin up, looking defiant. She raises her hand to slap him again and he stops it mid-air, grabbing her wrist firmly but not roughly. 

“Alright, enough,” he rumbles.

He releases her wrist and they nod to each other, apparently at an understanding. Sasha goes upstairs as Joel walks towards the door where Tess still stands. He’s moving slowly, like he’s weighted down, but his breathing is rapid, his eyes wide, and his forehead dappled with sweat. 

“Is PJ–” she starts.

“She doesn’t go out with Sasha anymore,” he interrupts. “In fact, she doesn’t go out at all. She stays here at the house. I don’t care what she does, but she does not leave.” He turns from her to walk away.

“Is PJ alright?” Tess finishes her sentence to his retreating figure.

“She will be,” he calls back, stalking towards his office.

Tess fully recognizes that the situation is becoming untenable. Joel has been growing more and more unstable, becoming increasingly physically violent with you, snapping at everyone in the house constantly, lashing out at her during their daily meetings and even worse is when he snarls his bullshit out in public, in front of Valley members. She understands that he’s not in a good headspace to talk about his feelings, but his affection for you has rapidly twisted into something much darker, something much more sinister. 

You are such a distraction to him and people are definitely noticing, someone new asks her nearly every day about him. She can’t keep covering for his volatile behavior. She has to find a way to intervene.

🖤

NEXT

Thank you endlessly to @papipascalispunk for helping me with this series and listening to me rant (AND RANTING WITH ME) about Cult Leader Joel (CJ). 🫂I appreciate everything you do.

TAGLIST (lmk if you wanna be added or removed) @strang3lov3 @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @covetyou @iamasaddie @sr-lrn @clawdee @theywhowriteandknowthings @beefrobeefcal @merz-8 @speckledemerald @alltheseperfectimperfections @survivingandenduring @afraidtofear @millennial-teenybopper @missladym1981 @xdaddysprincessxx @lumoverheaven @ghoulettesinspace @brittmb115 @wintersquirrel @obscurexsorrows @littlevenicebitch69 @lulawantmula @pedroswife69 @joeldjarin @heimtathurss @untamedheart81 @pixielou5 @feel1n-h1gh

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

You | Lute x Redeemed!Sinner

Warnings: post season one by two months BUT Adam miraculously survived, Lute was able to get her arm regrown by some divine intervention, Lute being a bitch 97% of the time, Adam being Adam, reader being a sweetheart, strong language, some derogatory nicknames towards sinners, reader is HEAVILY implied to be a bisexual (real queen shit), WxW, probably very out of character for both Lute and Adam — but I've never written for either of them before ✨

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: you were a redeemed sinner, yet Lute still hated you. . . Though soon, things would change for the better.

A/N — Silva is Latin for Forest *** (I know, I'm so creative). The sick meal is something I love even when I'm not sick, but feel free to imagine whatever you want for it :) but remember: ALWAYS WASH YOUR RICE

The sky brightened, bringing along with it the dawn of your first day in Heaven. Having been a long time resident of the Hazbin Hotel, you were as skeptical as the others, but played your part in wanting Charlie's dreams to come true. 

You were the first official resident, though more of an employee by the time Angel Dust came around, and a friend — a damned good one — to anyone who came through those doors. 

It didn't matter who they were. Whether it was Alastor, Husk, or even Lucifer himself, it didn't matter. You were an excellent listener.

Perhaps that was part of the reason you had been redeemed. 

It was possible that the other part of the reason why was because you regretted your singular act of immoral wrath when you were alive and you thought about it every day. 

You had walked the straight and narrow your entire life — married young and planned on having children once you were out of college and had a stable job. . . Then your husband cheated on you with his co-worker and it was as if you were possessed by blind rage. You killed him. 

You didn't kill her — she didn't know you existed, so you let her live. . . Then she found out of your existence rather quickly and karma came in the form of a pissed off woman wearing cheap perfume and fake red bottoms. 

So you crash landed into Hell immediately. No trial in purgatory. Straight into the melting pot of horrendous historical figures that you had been forced to write essays about in High School and people like you, who did one wrong thing. 

Watching the sun rise for the first time in almost ten years, you supposed you owed it all to Charlie. Having her as a supportive friend throughout your stay. 

First to arrive, second to be redeemed. 

The halo and wings were an odd feeling compared to the horns and sharp tail. . . As well as the white, light blue, and gold version of the outfit you were wearing when you ascended. Odd but welcomed. 

“Thank you.” You whispered aloud, sitting on the dock behind the building you had been guided to upon your arrival just hours before, surrounded by the water that was completely unaffected by murkiness or toxic waste. It was the cleanest water you'd ever seen. 

Wind chimes sang in the breeze that slightly rippled the top of the vast lake, distorting the reflected pinks and yellows of the golden sunrise. 

Voices drew closer, yet they didn't matter as the air warmed comfortably, the sun rising higher and higher in the blue sky. 

It was nice seeing blue instead of red. It felt human. It felt calm. 

“[Y/N]?” A voice called out and you turned around to face the newcomer. 

A smile broke out on your face as you came to see Sera with Sir Pentious and Emily at her side. The younger seraphim was buzzing with excitement. 

You carefully stood so as to not fall into the lake, approaching them slowly. “It's good to see you again, Pentious.” You said, hugging the former snake demon. 

He returned the quick embrace and blushed, just like he did when you were both in Hell. You and Charlie were the first to give him a chance. “You too missss [Y/N]. . .” 

You smiled at him once again before turning to Emily, who seemed to be the one temporarily in charge. “Welcome to Heaven! There's so much for you to see and do! But first, do you have any questions?”

“Where exactly in Heaven are we?” You questioned, gesturing to the lake with trees to either side, but with water for as far as you could see. 

“You're at the Silva Lake house.” Sera spoke up. “It was built when Sir Pentious arrived, as a way to prepare him for the eyes of the other angels who never set foot in Hell. . . As well as a potential sanctuary for any other sinners who may be redeemed along the way, such as yourself.”

A sanctuary for the redeemed made perfect sense when you thought about it. Heaven had to do something to not only make up for the mistake in leadership that led to the annual Extermination Day, but they couldn't just throw former sinners into society without getting them used to the new conditions. 

It would be like bringing a knife to a gunfight. . . They'd be ill prepared and it wouldn't look good for anyone, especially the higher-ups. 

“So, what do we have to do?” 

This time it was Emily who replied to you. “Just be here and show us that you have no problem learning how things work up here. . . It's not too complicated, but there are a few new rules in place after recent events. . . But don't worry! I'm sure you'll both be fine!” She smiled brightly, clapping her hands together. 

You could only hope everything would be alright.

Two weeks after your arrival, you had begun to think that you could handle the new realm in which you resided. 

At the Silva Lake house, you had a set routine which consisted of a lovely breakfast with Sir Pentious in the breakfast nook, morning lessons with Emily, a silent nature stroll with Sera, a trip to the city — just barely inside the limits — purely so you could see what you'd eventually be joining, and dinners alone because Sir Pentious was allowed to stay in the city longer than you and go further because he had been there longer.

It was nice to have a schedule, but having the same one every day was beginning to bore you. At least Charlie's schedules had made room for stuff outside of trust exercises. . . Stuff like hotel movie nights, family dinners, and fun outings. 

Two weeks and you thought you were ready. A five minute meeting was all it took for that false sense of readiness to fly out the window. 

One look in the golden eyes of the woman who would've killed you less than three months ago, had it not been for Vaggie stepping in, was enough to make you feel as if your leg was still stuck under the burning pile of rubble with an angelic blade mere inches away from your throat. 

The pain and any physical indication of it happening was long gone, but the memory was still there as if it had just happened moments ago. 

Yet you still regarded her as if she was an inhabitant of the hotel — with a smile and an open mind. 

Your welcoming smile was met with a glare of disdain from the exorcist angel, who looked as if she'd try to kill you again if you so much as breathed wrong in her direction. 

Shockingly, Adam, who had been uncharacteristically quiet during the whole meeting, was more open to conversing with you than Lute was. This was all part of Heaven's new plan. 

Forgiveness. 

Sera wanted you to forgive Lute for the part she played in almost killing you and your friends. 

She wanted Sir Pentious to forgive Adam for ‘killing’ him during the battle. 

And she wanted them to forgive the both of you for the roles played in the battle, despite you avoiding the battle where you could. 

“I sincerely apologize for the role I played in the battle that cost you many angels.” You said, catching Emily giving you two thumbs up from behind the two. 

“Now, Lute. . . Apologize to her.” Sera ordered lightly. 

The exorcist crossed her arms. “No. Why should I have to apologize to a lowly sinner?” She scoffed. “Not happening.”

You frowned. Lowly sinner? Ouch. . . 

“She is redeemed, Lute —”

“Is she? She looks the same. A wardrobe makeover doesn't change who someone is. And she practically reeks of Hell.” Lute turned her nose up at you. 

“I think that's enough for this evening, Sera. . . Adam, Lute. . . I apologize once again and hope you can find it within your hearts to forgive me.” You then turned away and walked towards your room.

“Sure thing, Bitch!” Adam called out just before your bedroom door closed roughly with a click. 

Lowly sinner? Reeking of Hell? 

The words stung. . . You should be mad, or even mildly frustrated. . . But you're more disappointed. Even when Adam, Lute, and the other exorcists were attacking your friends, you had been nice. . . But they didn't seem to care. It felt like you were redeemed for nothing. 

So you laid on your bed in silence, with tears unwillingly cascading down your cheeks, until your usual dinner time rolled around and Emily coaxed you out before she and Sera left. 

As you warmed up a prepped meal, you noticed that Adam and Lute were still there at the lake house, though neither paid any mind to you. Not while you milled about the kitchen. Not while you ate. 

The only time they paid any attention to you was when you walked across the far side of the living room to reach the bathroom for your evening shower. Even then, Lute only glared while Adam made derogatory comments about joining you in the shower. 

You ignored both of them, and when you came out of the bathroom, they were no longer in the living room, so you assumed they left. 

It became evident just hours later that they, in fact, hadn't left. The dead giveaway was the loud rock music that played from the TV in the living room, during a time you knew Sir Pentious was asleep — and the former snake demon didn't care for rock all that much. He was more of a classical music guy, but he could also get behind r&b. 

And you knew with the time, Sera and Emily wouldn't be around for another four hours.

You wanted to ignore it. Oh you tried so hard to ignore it, going as far as to cover your head with one of your pillows. . . But you could still hear it. And now you couldn't fall back asleep. 

Trying was pointless. 

Your morning started two hours earlier than it usually did, which unironically gave you time to do things that you couldn't do with the tight schedule. . . Like having morning coffee by the lake as the sun rose, breakfast that wasn't cereal or freezer waffles, or even a nice little swim with a shower after.

“What the fuck, dude?” You heard Adam's tired voice yell from the opposite side of the lake house, the music immediately muting. 

Lute's more awake voice could be heard through the walls, but you were unable to make out anything she was saying. . . So you sighed and went on to make a nice breakfast, in hopes it would help set the mood for the day. 

A good mood for a good day — hopefully. 

Adam and Lute weren't allowed to leave until all was forgiven and peace was made between the four of you. Orders from the almighty creator who hadn't taken too kindly to Sera, Lute, and Adam attempting to play God in his absence. 

What shocked you the most was Emily canceling lessons for the foreseeable future, purely because she could, saying ‘you've been at this for a while, you deserve a break so you're not burnt out’.

It was almost laughable. 

After the disruptive morning of rock n’ roll, you went back to the regular schedule for the most part. . . But before you knew it, you had been in Heaven for a month and your limits were being tested. 

Your food had gone missing from the fridge. 

Your laundry had gotten mixed up, despite being separated by your hand. . . Which resulted in two of your brand new favorite shirts to shrink in the dryer — you still wore them anyway.

Things you set down were never where you placed them. 

At first it drove you crazy — you thought you were losing your mind. Until Sir Pentious had come to you one late evening and revealed something he noticed. 

Lute had been either eating your food or throwing it away. 

Lute had been the one switching your laundry around. 

Lute had been the one moving everything you set down. 

You couldn't understand why someone would go to such lengths to inconvenience you when you had been so accommodating for the both of them. . . So you ignored her. 

And it pissed her off. 

How dare you ignore her existence while she was cursing yours? 

One evening, you were making a nice, hearty meal because you and Sir Pentious had fallen victim to the early autumn allergy fueled cold. It was something your parents would've made whenever you were feeling under the weather — you were just glad the ingredients were in the house. 

Adam entered the kitchen without his mask and opened the fridge as you were opening the cabinet that was filled with bowls and plates. 

“Whatcha makin’, Hot Stuff?” Adam questioned, closing the fridge. 

You glanced at him confused before opting to reply, rather than questioning anything he called you. At least he wasn't calling you sinner scum. 

“Dinner.” You croaked in reply, using a pot holder to lift the lid off of the large pan where thinly sliced and seasoned steak was simmering in a homemade mushroom gravy. You then gestured to the pot of fluffy white rice next to the pan of cauliflower. (Again, it's one of my favorites — so delicious.)

“There's plenty for you and Lute to join us, if you'd like to.” You almost lost your voice by the end of the sentence, but the first man heard you. 

“Yeah, okay. . . It looks more edible than that shit in the freezer — whatever the fuck that is.”

You would've laughed if you knew you wouldn't have landed yourself in a coughing fit. So you settled for a smile as you plated up the food. 

“It looks disgusting.” Lute sneered from the doorway. 

Immediately, your smile dropped and your fork clattered onto the wooden table. “Then don't eat it.” You snapped, taking your seat as Sir Pentious slithered into the kitchen. 

“This shit looks good as fuck, Danger Tits.” Adam shoved a fork full of steak in his mouth and released a downright sinful moan. “You're missin’ out.”

Sir Pentious nodded in agreement, eating what was on his plate relatively quickly. You appreciated Adam and Pentious trying to make things better, even if Adam was using his own way to make it seem so. . .

But you were slowly losing your patience, which became evident by the way you verbally snapped.

Lute didn't speak to you — or rather speak down to you for a few days, but she lingered while Adam got to know you better. . . She seemed rather put off with how things were going. 

Like how when you couldn't reach something, completely uncomfortable with using your new wings, Adam would grab it without stopping whatever conversation was going on. 

Or when he'd offer to make dinner (or buy dinner for everyone) just so you could have a break. 

Or even now when you were draping your towel over a chair on the back deck, prior to your swim in the lake, and he happened to be out there in the sun. You heard him mention something about you being ‘hot as fuck’ in your swimsuit, but you mostly ignored him, aside from a light blush dusting your cheeks. 

From him, she learned your favorite color, your favorite animal, your favorite everything, basically. . . And when your eyes found Lute, she was glaring at Adam, not you, for once. 

Rather than questioning it, you accepted it and found your way into the lake where eventually, they both joined you at a distance. You felt oddly alone, since Sir Pentious had decided to stay in — he still wasn't feeling the best, so you urged him to rest, claiming you'd be fine. 

Lute seemed to be attempting to drown Adam and he took it in a playful way, yelling and laughing loudly while she splashed him and jumped on top of him — something that seemed out of character for her. 

Though they both soon went underwater and just as you decided you were ready to go in, you were pulled under and came face to face with Lute. Your eyes widened as your heart beat rapidly in your chest. 

She wasn't glaring at you. . . There was no animosity behind her gaze, her hands locked onto your arms. She smirked after what felt like an eternity and pulled you back up to the surface with her. 

“Stay away from her, Adam.” Lute practically growled, holding you close. 

This was odd. It felt so wrong, but it felt so right having her arms wrapped around your waist. She hadn't touched you until then, so you weren't sure what to make of the situation.

“So you finally —”

“Shut up!”

Adam only smirked and shot out of the water, going to dry off on the deck. 

“I suppose we need to talk?” You questioned softly. 

Lute nodded and released her hold on you so that the two of you could reach the deck once more. 

You sat in the chair that Adam had previously occupied and she turned one to face you, taking a seat there. She stayed silent for a few minutes, watching you dry your hair and wrap your towel around your shoulders. 

Lute then took another moment to admire the way the late morning light caught on your face, before she spoke. 

“I was wrong about you. . . There's sinners who don't deserve good things and then there's you. . . I — you. . . You've proven yourself and. . . I'm sorry for how things have been since I showed up.”

You smiled at the apology, finally looking into her golden eyes. “You're forgiven. . . But if I might ask. . . Why did you hate me so much?” 

She became nervous, you could see it. 

“I thought you might be as bad as the regular sinners — I know what you did when you were alive and I know that's why you went to Hell. . . But these last few weeks showed me why you wound up here.” Something akin to adoration laced her tone and you blushed under her gaze. 

It was such a quick change. . . But it seemed like a good one. It seemed like common knowledge that she wasn't the greatest at expressing emotions, having been so deep in her work for the longest time.

Before you could open your mouth to reply, your heart bursted as a new sensation graced you — Lute's lips on yours. You felt your heartbeat quicken once again and your face heated up violently. 

She pulled away a moment later, stuttering out an apology. 

“I shouldn't have — hmph!” 

You immediately shut her up with another quick kiss before leaving a sweet peck on her cheek once you had removed your lips from hers. “I didn't mind. . . If this has the chance of becoming something, I want there to be communication. . . If you're okay with that. . ?”

“That's fine. . . [Y/N]?”

“Hmm?”

“We forgive you. . . I forgive you.”

You grinned and stood from your seat, reaching your hand out for Lute. “Wonderful. . . How about some lunch?” 

She snorted and shook her head, but still stood and took your hand, allowing you to guide her into the lake house for lunch. 

She sat beside you while everyone ate, shutting Adam down the moment he looked like he was going to open his mouth and say something stupid — which was often. 

You were happy and hopeful. Maybe this could grow into something beautiful. . . Maybe this could be your forever relationship. 

Just maybe. 

Additional A/N — if anyone wants the Fem!Redeemed!Sinner x Lute story to continue, requests are open! Give me ideas!

[joeshiestyslover]

tennessee whiskey- c. sturniolo

pairing: chris sturniolo x countrygirl!reader

summary: working at a bar in texas to make some extra money for college is far from interesting, with you mostly serving drunk college kids and random middle-aged men. however, one night a certain set of triplets walk into the bar, and one of them in particular catches your eye.

warnings: cursing, alcohol use, use of nicknames (playboy, cowgirl, baby)

masterlist

lowercase intended

working at a bar has it's fair share of ups and downs. sure, you get hit on by creepy men and desperate frat guys, but it pays well and you get free drinks.

you began working at the crown and anchor pub for the past two years, since you got to college at the university of texas. you honestly enjoy your job. your coworkers are nice enough and the patrons aren't awful, many of them being fellow college students.

you grew up in about thirty minutes out of austin on a ranch filled with horses, pigs, cows, chickens, and basically every farm animal. it's not like you're not used to the city, but if you're being honest, you much prefer the quiet and serene rural areas to the busy and bustling cities.

when you moved to austin permanently for college, it was a little bit of a culture shock. you were used to rodeos and horseback riding instead of large buildings and loud concerts. but after a while, you began to adjust. you started going out more, making friends, and, of course, getting a job at the bar that sits right on the corner of the university of texas.

tonight is relatively the same to all the previous ones. you're in your work outfit which consists of a black tank top and short denim shorts with your cowboy boots. you've been pouring drinks all night, and occasionally turning down random frat boys. suddenly, you see three identical guys sit down at your side of the bar. you immediately take notice of one of them. he's the only one with no tattoos and noticeably longer hair which is covered by a light blue backwards baseball cap.

you allow yourself to admire him for a few seconds before walking over to the three boys, "hi, welcome in. can i get you boys something to drink?" the triplets look up at you, chris immediately looking you up and down. "what would you recommend?" nick asks. "well depends what you're looking for. you want a beer? dark liquor? something fruity?" you reply. chris takes a second and scans the brands of beer lined up behind you. "i'll take a michelob ultra please." you nod and grab a pint glass, going over to the tab and pouring the beer into it. you set it down in front of him before looking over at the other two triplets. "umm can i get a tequila sunrise?" nick requests with a small smile on his face. "of course." you look to matt. "i'll just have a coke please." you then begin to prepare both the boys' drinks before setting them in front of them. "anything else i can get you guys?" you inquire. chris looks you up and down once again before responding, "yeah i was wondering if i could get your name?" he smirks at you. "y/n." you say. “pretty name. i’m chris.” he responds. “thanks. it’s nice to meet you chris.” you give him a small smile. before chris can say anything else, another patron at the bar signals for you to refill his beer. you turn back to chris, “excuse me.” you walk over to the man and grab his glass, refilling it. even after you’ve walked away, chris’ eyes never leave your figure. there’s just something so entrancing about you. “you’re staring.” his thoughts are broken by nick’s voice to his left. “what? no i’m not.” he tries to deny, but his older brother knows better than to believe it. “uh huh, sure.” he takes a sip of his drink. “dude, just ask for her number or something.” matt chimes in. “yeah don’t be a pussy. just ask her out. it’s not hard.” chris just rolls his eyes. “when’s the last time you’ve been on a date nick? like three years ago?” “shut up.”

after about ten minutes of the triplets arguing over whether or not chris should ask you out, you walk back over to the triplets to check on them and talk to chris “how are you guys doing over here?” chris’ head immediately shoots up at the sound of your voice. before he can speak, nick does. “we’re doing great, but my brother has something to ask you.” chris’ eyes widen as nick and matt give him a sly smile. you raise an eyebrow as chris turns his head back to you. “well then ask away.” he’s silent for a few seconds “what time do you get off?” “i get off at 9:30. why do you ask?” chris’ confidence slowly begins to make a reappearance when he asks, “i was wondering if you wanted to do something. with me.” you tilt your head slightly, “you wanna take me out on a date, playboy?” a smirk slowly appears on his face, “yeah. i wanna take you out on a date if you’ll let me.” you ponder it for a few seconds. “i guess i’ll see you at 9:30 then, playboy.” you say before walking away to tend to other people at the bar. nick sends him a small smirk and drinks his tequila sunrise. “see? that wasn’t so hard.” “nick, seriously, shut the fuck up.”

soon enough, 9:30 rolls around and you’ve been cleaning glasses and wiping down the bar for the past half hour. you quickly go into the back to clock out and grab your bag before going back to the front to meet chris. “you ready to go, playboy?” he nods, “lead the way, y/n.” you exit the bar and walk towards your truck in the parking lot, chris trailing behind you. “so where are we going?” he asks curiously. “you’ll see” you respond as you climb into the drivers seat. “you’re really just not gonna tell me?” “i said you’ll see. it’ll be worth it.” you begin to drive out from the parking lot onto the street. 

as you’re driving, you speak up, “so where are you from? it’s obvious you’re not from around here.” chris turns to face you with a raised eyebrow, “you could tell, huh?” you nod, “yeah. i’m good at that.” he gives you a small smirk “well, me and my brothers live in la, but we’re originally from boston. what about you?” “i grew up around here actually. on a ranch.” his eyebrows shoot up. “really? a ranch? so you have like animals?” you nod, “yep. every farm animal you can think of, we have it.” “i’ll have to see it sometime.” you shoot him a smirk, “how about now?” you ask as you pull into the driveway of your family’s ranch. “you’re gonna show me your animals?” you park the truck as you shut off the engine, “well, most of them are probably asleep right now, but i can show you my horses if you’re up for it.” chris nods, “yeah let’s go.” he opens the door and gets out and you follow suit, locking the truck as you walk towards the side of the house.

you lead him over to the stables and open the door, revealing two horses. “whoa. are they both yours?” he asks with wide eyes. “this is maverick and that's goose. maverick’s mine and goose is my sister’s.” you tell him, walking over to maverick and petting him. “when i was younger, me and maverick used to participate in rodeos together.” you smile fondly at the memories of you riding maverick in an arena. “so you’re like a real cowgirl then?” he asks, admiring the way you tend to your horses. “i guess i am.” you give him a soft smile, which he returns. “there’s more to you than meets the eye, cowgirl.” he says softly. “same to you, playboy.” you respond. “you keep calling me that. why?” you shrug, “i don’t know it just suits you.” he chuckles, “whatever you say cowgirl.” you playfully roll your eyes at the nickname. “you wanna pet him? he’s real sweet.” you offer as chris takes a step towards maverick. he slowly brings his hand up and begins to pet the horse. “he is sweet.” “i know. i’ve had him since i was 13.” he looks over at you, “so he’s basically your baby, huh?” you smile slightly, “yeah he is.” 

after a few minutes, the two of you decide to head back to your apartment. the drive back is peaceful with the two of you making casual conversation by talking about your families, your goals, and anything you could think of. after about thirty minutes of driving, you pull into the parking garage of your apartment complex. you put your truck in park and step out, heading towards the elevator then to your front door. 

the two of you enter your cozy apartment and you set your bag and keys down on the kitchen counter. “this is a nice place. very homey.” you shrug, “it’s not much, but it’s alright. it’s what i can afford.” you walk into the living room and chris follows you, sitting himself down on your couch. “you want a drink or something?” you ask as you turn on your tv. “sure. i’ll take whatever you got.” “you got it. i’ll be right back.” before you go, you open spotify on your tv and click on a random playlist and press shuffle, the song ‘tennessee whiskey’ by chris stapleton softly coming through the speakers. you walk into the kitchen and begin to make some drinks for you and chris when suddenly, you feel two arms wrap around your waist. the two of you begin to sway slowly to the music. you turn around and wrap your arms around his neck as his hands fall to your hips. “you have a good taste in music, cowgirl.” he says. “you don’t strike me as the type to like country music.” “i don’t but i might make an exception for this song. after all, you introduced me to it.” he smiles as he leans in to press his forehead against yours. “am i already making that big of an impact on you, playboy?” you tease. “baby, you’ve had an impact on me since i laid eyes on you in that bar a few hours ago.” his words make you smile. “yeah?” chris smiles back at you as he leans in closer, “yeah” he confirms before closing the gap in between you. the kiss is soft and sweet and you can taste the faint remnants of beer on his lips. his tongue then darts out, running along your bottom lip. you open your mouth slightly, letting your tongues dance together. your hands move to his hair and you give a small tug, a soft groan escaping his lips as his hands run along your waist. after a couple seconds, he pulls away, his lips slightly red and swollen. “you mind if i stay the night?” “as long as you promise to not ditch me in the morning, playboy.” you say. “oh cowgirl, after tonight, i’m never letting you go.” he then crashes his lips to yours once again before picking you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. he begins to carry you into your bedroom, the drinks long forgotten. 

[happilysmythe]

❥ 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧

trent frederic.

word count: 5.0k

warning: explicit content

"can you blow my mind?" — tyla

A/N: i recently received a request for trent and a leafs fan. i was given creative freedom and this is what i came up with. hope you like it, nonny <3

- - -

Bruins win Game 7 in OT.

The headlines came out at a rapid rate, informing the rest of the world that the Boston Bruins made it out of the first round and turned the Toronto Maple Leafs into mulch. Again.

Trent Frederic, along with a few teammates, were on too much of a high to return to their rooms at the hotel they’d been staying in just yet. Though they were home in Boston, coach Jim Montgomery thought it would be smarter to have the guys stay in a hotel instead of going back to their homes and apartments. Team bonding, he said.

The bunch set off for the bar inside the hotel, only a few blocks away from TD Garden, waiting a few hours before slipping in nonchalantly. They weren’t trying to get outed too fast, and they usually didn’t. Even once they were recognized, not much came of it. Most people were too drunk by then to make a scene, anyway.

So they sat down at the bar and ordered a few beers, celebrating accordingly and talking amongst themselves. They would finally let loose for just a night before the inevitable start of round 2 in just two days. They’d be having practice the next morning and flying down to Sunrise, Florida to face the Panthers, who were on their extensive break after knocking the Lightning in just 5 games.

Trent decided he’d had enough after his fourth beer, so he left his share and stood up to make his way out. As he turned around, his body hit something with a thud. He looked down and saw what it was that he came into contact with; a thin blonde woman with her arms out, jaw slack, and an empty hand that once held her drink.

Oh, and a Maple Leafs jersey.

“Oh, shit,” Trent muttered, compressing his lips.

You scoffed, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I can get you a new one.”

You looked up, a look of guilt on your face as your hands fell back down to your sides. “Shit, I’m sorry. I should’ve been looking where I was going, too—”

You paused.

“Where do I know you?”

He remained silent, shooting you a look as if to tell you that it should be obvious. It wasn’t long before your face dropped and it hit you. He suppressed a grin at your realization and parted his lips to speak.

“Name’s Trent,” he spoke smoothly, “but something tells me you already figured that out.”

“Well, you’re one of the last people I’d like to see right now,” you rolled your eyes, arms folded. “What’s a guy like you doing at some random bar at,” you looked at your watch, “12 in the morning after the game where you just knocked my team out of the playoffs?”

“Had to celebrate somehow,” he winked.

“Oh, god,” you grimaced. “I really do hate you guys.”

“Well, aren’t you a little ray of sunshine,” he laughed, putting his abnormally large hands on his hips. Your eyes subtly followed their path.

“Lighten up,” he teased. “C’mon. What’s your name? I know you’re not a,” he pinched the fabric of your jersey and pulled it to see the numbers, “Marner. Unless you’re into that sort of thing.”

You sighed at his remark and told him your name, but he made a face afterward.

“Too long.”

“Too long?”

“I think I’ll stick to Marner,” he told you, much to your dismay.

“Gross,” you replied irritatedly. “I don’t particularly feel like giving you the privilege of using a nickname. Just use my real name like everyone else. ”

“I’m all set, actually. I think I’ll stick to mine.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

“You gonna let me buy your drink or keep bitching about who I am?”

“Fine,” you sighed, “buy me the damn drink.”

He and you made your way to the other side of the bar, far enough away from the rest of the guys and the few friends you went with that you wouldn’t be noticed. You sat next to each other on the bar stools, Trent talking your ear off and you reluctantly replying with mostly one-word responses.

“You can’t be that angry with me,” he finally spoke, breaking another silence. “I’m not the whole team, you know.”

“I can and I will,” you shrugged, sipping your almost-empty drink.

“If you won’t talk, then I’ll just have to make you talk.”

He put his elbows down on the table and turned his head to face you, “Why’d you decide to come out in public after that game? I wouldn’t have even bothered to show my face in a bar wearing that. You here with other people or something?”

“I came with a couple of friends.”

“Doesn’t answer my first question.”

You looked down. “They wanted to come down here. I told them it was probably a bad idea because of the fact that we’re, you know, Leafs fans. They did it anyway so I just tagged along.”

“Bet you didn’t expect to run into me,” he nudged you with his shoulder, bringing a faint smile to your lips. “There you go,” he teased when he noticed your expression. “See? I’m not so bad.”

“Fraternizing with the enemy is a bad look for a woman like me,” you retorted, a playful undertone to your words. It was uncharacteristic compared to the closed-off manner you had with every other response. You wouldn’t admit that, however.

“Oh, she jokes,” he took the final sip of the drink he’d bought himself upon sitting with you, even after deciding he’d had his last beforehand.

“Shut up, Frederic.”

“We’ve regressed to my last name now? Can’t even call me by my first?”

“But you won’t use mine at all,” you rolled your eyes, “Trent.”

You looked at him for maybe a tad longer than you should’ve, eyes slowly moving down his body. He wore a white collared shirt that hugged his arms and gray dress pants that looked awfully tight around his thighs. You couldn’t help but notice the facial hair he’d grown since the start of the round, giving him a gingery mustache with a somewhat patchy beard. You’d seen what he looked like before that and were undoubtedly intrigued by it, regardless of whatever grudges you held against him. But you couldn’t let him know that.

So you turned to face the television above the bar, watching the commercial in a quiet trance as if nothing happened.

“Hey,” he tapped his finger on the bartop, diverting your attention back to him. “Tell me something,” he softly requested as you looked back, adjusting his body to face yours. “Why did you let me buy you the new drink if you weren’t going to talk to me, hm?”

You swallowed, “I wasn’t going to be rude.”

“The real reason,” he pressed.

“There is no real reason.”

“Alright,” he nodded, “so why were you staring at me before?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He lowered his voice and brought his face just slightly closer, a faint grin tugging at his lips. “You’re not a very good liar, you know that?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I mean,” he laughed, shrugging his shoulders, “unless I didn’t see you looking for a while there. But I’m pretty sure I know what I saw.”

“Just…just shut up, Trent, alright?”

“Sounds like I hit a nerve,” he noted and you rolled your eyes. “You know, you’re cute when you’re irritable.”

His grin widened when you shook your head again, promptly informing him of how annoying he was once again. “But if I’m really being honest here,” he lifted his fingers and gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, “I think you’re pretty.”

At this, your hardened exterior softened. Your head turned just slightly so that he was in your field of view and you sighed gently. “Thanks.”

“Mhm.”

“I, um,” you cleared your throat, taking a breath, “I was looking before.”

“I know,” he softly responded, hand slipping down until his palm rested on your thigh. Initially, you flinched at the contact, but your muscles relaxed when you realized it was a warm gesture rather than one with malicious intent.

“You don’t have to be so cold,” he told you. “No matter who I play for, I’m just a guy.”

You were more attracted to him than you wanted to let on, and it surely didn’t help that he was being nicer to you. You suppressed a smile and faced him fully.

“It’s not that, it’s—it’s the point,” you flatly responded.

“You can look at me again,” he teased, thumb rubbing your thigh. “I won’t tell anyone.”

“Don’t count on it.”

Your gaze lingered on him again, eyes flitting down to his lips before you looked away. It wasn’t hard for him to see through you—after all, you allowed him to keep his hand where it was, even after refuting his words. He took notice of your wandering eyes and finally pieced it together.

“Like the new look, eh?”

Your brows furrowed and you swallowed, “What new look…?”

“I think you know what I’m talking about,” he replied with certainty. “You have a thing for the scruff?”

“Please. I don’t even know what you looked like before that,” you lied, taking an unsteady breath.

“Doesn’t change that you were looking at it, does it?”

“Well…” you trailed off, lips parted as you tried to think up an excuse. “No,” you finally gave up, letting your head hang down. “It doesn’t, because I have seen you before and I do have a thing for it. For you,” you shook your head, laughing at the reality of how weak you truly were. How stupid you must have looked to him. “So tease me all you want, say that you told me so—you’re right.”

A ringed finger slipped under your chin and tilted your head toward him, his face mere inches away from yours.

“I’m not going to tease you.”

You swallowed, expression falling as your eyes locked with his. They were brown, you noticed. And they were…warm. They largely contrasted how he looked at you previously. It brought you to an entranced sort of state.

His touch was soft, comforting. But in a way that made you want him more. Caused your mind to wander to places you knew it shouldn’t have gone. It felt good. Really good.

And you had no business wondering what the rest of him would feel like on you.

“Where are you staying?” you blurted out.

“Upstairs.”

“Take me,” the words left your mouth before you could protest.

An eyebrow raised and his grin turned to a smile. “Gladly,” he whispered, lowering his hand and standing up.

He held his hand out and you hesitantly took it, allowing him to discreetly walk you toward the exit of the bar. You ducked when you saw your friends, praying that by some miracle they didn’t see you walk out with Trent Frederic.

“Trent,” you whispered, clutching onto him harder now that you couldn’t be hidden by the darkness of the bar any longer. “What if someone saw?”

“You would’ve known by now. Trust me,” he reassured you as the elevator doors slid open. You walked in and the doors shut, enclosing you in the small space. “And if anyone did,” he started, fingers brushing against the nape of your neck, “it’s none of their business, anyway.”

“Mhm,” you agreed softly, eyes beginning to close when you felt his warm breath on your neck.

“See? Not so hard to agree, is it?”

“Mm…no…”

He laughed softly in your ear and pressed a tiny kiss to the skin behind it. He intricately placed a few more on the exposed skin, prompting a faint hum from your lips as the doors slid back open. His hand found its place on your waist as he gently pushed you out, guiding you down the hallway and finally stopping in front of his door.

By now, you’d become urgent—urgent to feel his lips on yours no matter how much you told yourself it was a stupid idea. You lived in Toronto; a whopping 500 miles away. And he played for Boston, the team you hated with a passion so strong that you vowed to never let yourself be endeared by them. Yet there you were, standing next to the forward who contributed to your favorite team’s loss, wanting nothing more than for him to make you feel oh, so good.

And he would.

The door clicked open and he pushed the lever down, stepping aside to let you in. He was quick to pin you to the door with his body, arm coming up behind your head to lock it and toss the room card to the side.

“I can’t believe I let you charm me.”

“What can I say,” he rasped, leaning in closer, “I know how to get a girl in my room.”

His lips finally connected with yours and you immediately reciprocated, hand flattening against his chest and gripping the material of his shirt. You pulled him closer, slipping your free hand around his neck before tilting your head to deepen the kiss. The hair above his lips rubbed against your skin, the feeling eliciting a faint hum from your mouth into his. He grinned at this and hooked his fingers under the blue jersey you wore, pulling away promptly and carefully lifting it up.

“Taking this shit off,” he mumbled, pulling the fabric over your head and discarding it to the floor. “You’d look much better with mine.”

You rolled your eyes, “Not going to happen, Trent.”

“We’ll see,” he grinned, moving his lips to your neck and marking up the skin, drawing whimpers from your mouth.

Your hand snaked into his hair, fingers threading between the dusty ginger strands as you pushed his head closer. He kissed up to your jaw, sliding his hand up to your neck, the other placed on the bare skin of your hip. His fingers pressed into the nape of your neck and his thumb rested just under your chin, hand pressing the back of your head against the door as his lips kissed a path down your jawline.

“Shit,” you moaned breathily, reaching for the buttons on his shirt as his mouth returned to yours hungrily.

You worked your way down, the material of his shirt parting and exposing his skin as each button fell open. His tongue slipped between your lips, grazing your teeth before rolling over yours languidly. Soft fingers untucked his open shirt from his pants and began to trace his stomach, moving slowly up to his firm chest. The action caused the large hand around your neck to tighten its hold, prying a moan from your throat.

“Didn’t know,” you panted, “—didn’t know you wore a chain.”

“Like it, mm?”

The way he grinned down at you brought a lump to your throat. He made you nervous. Weak, even. And the height at which he stood compared to you surely didn’t help. So you nodded curtly in response, hoping he’d take the hint and not press you further.

But he took it and instead removed his hand from your neck to slide it down and meet the other at your lower back, promptly hoisting you up. Your hands moved to his face and held it while you continued to kiss him, him walking the two of you away from the door and in the direction of the bed. You kicked your shoes off just as he grabbed a towel from the rack on the wall outside the bathroom and laid it lazily atop the sheets. He then lowered you onto your back and let go, allowing you to lie comfortably on the bed as he remained on his knees in front of you.

He quickly shed himself of the torn-open shirt and tossed it toward the empty bed on the other side of the room. His body soon hovered over yours, an arm on the bed on each side of your head as he kissed you again. His lips moved to your neck once again, working the skin until soft moans slipped through your parted ones.

“Trent,” you exhaled, chest rising and falling deeply, “isn’t…isn’t someone else staying here with you? There’s—mm—two beds.”

“There was,” he mumbled into your skin, moving down to your collarbones.

“So couldn’t we get—”

“Was,” he repeated. “He already went home to his girlfriend. And I have both room keys.” He chuckled softly and reached around your back to unclasp your bra, the fabric coming loose on your chest. “So relax.”

You nodded and lifted your arms for him to pull it off, him letting it fall from his hand before kissing a path down the valley of your chest. His body moved down as he continued down to your stomach, then to your waist where his fingers hooked in your pants and slid them down your legs.

You kicked them off and opened your legs, allowing Trent to slip between them. He gently kissed your inner thigh, slowly working his way up until he reached the lacy fabric that covered your skin. He looked up, making and not breaking eye contact with you as he took the waistband between his teeth and tugged the fabric slowly down your legs. As he rose upwards, they and your pants were dropped to the floor.

Warm breath fanned the skin between your aching thighs, awaiting his touch oh, so impatiently. His fingers brushed the area, dragging themselves slowly up and down. His eyes flitted up to you, a faint grin playing on his lips before focusing back down.

“God, you’re wet,” he rasped, leaning down and settling his face between your thighs, your legs atop his shoulders. His hands wrapped around your outer thighs and gripped them, pulling you in promptly.

“Especially for someone who claims to hate me so much.”

You rolled your eyes and groaned, “Think that’ll make me like you any more?”

“No, but maybe this will.”

With that, his mouth wrapped around your clit, tongue swirling around and eliciting a gasp of shock from your parted lips. Your eyes widened as he sucked gently, hands kneading the warm flesh of your thighs.

He then trailed downward, planting small, light kisses on the sensitive flesh, all before his tongue carefully parted your folds and delved slowly inside. Your fingers gingerly threaded into his strands, palm flattening itself on the back of his head as you pushed him down, your body weak with the need for more friction.

The hair that had recently grown above his lips brushed against your skin, rubbing back and forth forcefully and bringing meaning to the term, ‘hurts so good.’

“God, fuck,” you groaned, hands tenaciously gripping the sheets and his curls as his tongue moved in a rhythm that was just enough to make you long for more.

He lapped at you mercilessly, expert movements of his tongue coaxing soft moans from your mouth. A cocky grin stretched across his lips as he brought you to the brink, then pulled away, forcing a whimper from you at the loss of contact.

A large hand was removed from your thigh and brought between your legs, knuckles once again dragging lazily along the sensitive, needy skin, but refusing to give you the satisfaction of doing what you wanted most. He was teasing you; punishing you for the way in which you treated him earlier without giving him as much as a chance to prove himself.

“Trent,” you whined impatiently, hips writhing involuntarily against his bearded face.

“Mm…what?”

You refused to admit the irrevocable attraction you had to him because you didn’t want to let him win. And now he was being a bitch to you, just like you were to him. He chuckled softly and pressed the tip of his finger to your entrance, allowing you to feel the small bit of pressure that came with it. 

“Please,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his curls.

Enough was enough and he pushed the finger in, drawing a moan from your lips before adding another and thrusting them in and out with no room for complaint. The cold metal of his ring brushed against your sensitive inner walls and you gasped at the initial contact, your rampant mind having forgotten about the jewelry to begin with. And deep down, you loved it.

His mouth returned to your skin, tongue licking small stripes on the mound of flesh above his fingers, the scruff on his chin rubbing roughly against it. You knew you were going to have burns on your skin caused by his facial hair but you didn’t care; you just wanted to keep feeling him.

“Trent, don’t stop.”

He laughed quietly and sped up the pace of his fingers, urging you even closer to the edge. Your thighs closed in around his head, hand still pushing his head down. He hummed in satisfaction, the noise vibrating against your skin as he felt you clench around his long fingers.

His lips sucked on your clit in a steady pattern, causing your release to rip through you, prying a moan from deep within your stomach. You fisted the sheets tighter as your hips writhed against his face and fingers, legs beginning to shake from the pressure. Trent continued to work you through it, tongue lapping up the wetness that accumulated until you sunk back down into the mattress, spent.

Slowly he removed his fingers, first bringing them to his lips to lick them clean before rising back up. You inched backward on the bed until your head pressed against the pillow, Trent following and planting himself on his knees between your legs. His fingers reached down and fumbled with the buckle on his belt, eyes never leaving your body in the process. It wasn’t long before his belt haphazardly hit the floor, then his pants and his painfully hard cock was freed from its constraints. A rough palm placed itself on your knee, rubbing it slowly.

“Trent,” you swallowed, drawing his attention back up to your face. “Con—”

He raised his hand to cut you off, a gold wrapper resting comfortably between his index and middle fingers. The action having rendered you silent, he promptly took the foil between his teeth and pulled, spitting out the excess before taking out the latex and rolling it onto himself. You soon felt the pressure of him at your entrance, legs subconsciously widening to let him slip between them further, then heard the sound of him groaning as he pushed into you.

You swore it was the sexiest thing you’d ever heard.

He leaned forward slowly, giving you just a moment’s time to adjust to his size as he stretched you out. Your breaths were unsteady, eyes screwed shut as your fingers maintained their forceful grip on the sheets around you. Your mind was racing, but you knew one thing for certain—the man was about to fucking blow it. His body hovered above yours as he kissed a path from your stomach up to your neck, hands pressing into the mattress on each side of you.

“Where did you,” you breathed, “get that?”

“Pocket,” he rasped, mustache brushing against your neck.

Eyes wide, you responded, “That’s not—”

“Relax,” he mumbled, the corners of his lips slightly upturned. “I put it in there today.”

Then you impatiently lifted a hand to the back of his head and pushed his lips onto yours, kissing him urgently and wordlessly telling him to just move. He obeyed your silent command and pushed his hips into yours, burying his dick into you before pulling back, leaving only the tip inside. He repeated the process at a steady, slow rhythm—tortuously slow, at that—until your back was arching, hand in his hair sliding down to his shoulder blade as the long, coffin-shaped nails dug into his soft skin. The chain that you’d noticed earlier tapped against your cheek, the feeling provoking you to throw your head back against the pillow.

His hand slid up your front, fingers curling around to the nape of your neck and thumb resting under your chin once again, pulling your head back up as he quickened his pace, driving into you with more force. Every inch of his thick cock slid smoothly along your velvety walls, your mouth frozen in its open state as his lips worked at your neck again. And god, you just couldn’t understand what made you hate that guy in the first place. It must have slipped your mind completely.

Upon the first thrust of his hips, he felt just how tight you enveloped him. The immense pressure of you wrapped around his strained length, practically squeezing it. The age-old trick of conjuring up the most repulsive of thoughts seemed nothing but moronic to him in the past, yet for some reason he found himself naming off presidents in his head to prevent from coming so fucking soon. He only wished that he could feel it; really feel it, if it weren’t for that godforsaken rubber that separated him from you.

And he’d make it his mission to do so, whether you lived five hundred miles away or not.

He just hoped he’d last when he finally did.

The hand around your throat closed just slightly, using just enough pressure to threaten your intake of breath without causing any pain. It was delicious. You didn’t have the will to fight it—your body had already submitted to him long before, and there wasn’t much that you could focus on other than the feeling of him roughly thrusting into you, lips marking up one side of your neck while his hand firmly gripped the other.

The sounds of your mixed moans bounced off of the walls and you began to wonder whether anyone could hear it or not; if any of his teammates were close by, walking back to their rooms from the bar. The thought instilled enough fear for you to weakly voice it.

“What if—ah—what if someone hears us?”

“Let them,” he rasped, kissing behind your ear.

“But—”

“God, shut up,” he pushed his lips to yours, swallowing your words, moans, and expletives that threatened to destroy your mediocre attempt to stay quiet. His tongue rolled over yours, low hums reverberating in your mouth and filling your ears.

Finally, he released his hold from your neck, allowing the air to flow smoothly into your lungs once more. The hand reached for yours, roughly threading his fingers between yours before pushing the two forward and pinning the back of your hand to the headboard behind you. You let out a whimper at the sudden contact but quickly gripped his hand with a matching force to his as he hit the sweet spot inside you and a familiar pit in your stomach formed.

“Close,” you panted, back arching off of the bed and forcing your front to press firmly into his.

“I know,” he told you, grip tightening as the taut line in your stomach snapped.

His mouth enveloped yours again to swallow your noises, tongue swiping against your bottom lip. Your inner walls constricted around his length as you hit your climax, nails digging into his back as you grasped desperately at him for stability, support—any sort of strength that he could provide you with. And he did, grunting sporadically as he fucked you through your second orgasm, thrusts growing sloppier.

It wasn’t long before he twitched inside you, hitting his own peak and letting out a deep moan. Your name—to your surprise—left his lips in a slurred form, repeating it softly as if it were a hymn. Sweat coated your forehead, droplets dripping slowly down your face, and the frontward strands of your hair had grown wet. His curls dripped with his own sweat as his lips hovered just centimeters above yours, warm breath fanning your face and gaze aligning with yours.

You finally swallowed, “Wow.”

“Mm,” he hummed, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, hand letting go of yours and gently running up and down your side.

He waited a moment and carefully pulled out, the action drawing your eyes shut before he slipped off the used latex and disposed of it. You adjusted yourself as he did so, ridding the bed of the towel and briefly cleaning yourself up before you felt a piece of fabric hit your arm. You looked down to see a large, black t-shirt on the bed and grabbed it, quickly slipping it on as he walked back over. He motioned you under the sheets and you silently obliged.

Your back pressed against his chest, chain pressing into the skin as an arm wrapped around you and a hand flattened on your stomach. His other fingers pushed your hair to the side, exposing the skin to his eyes, and he saw the faint marks his fingers left on your neck. A pair of lips brushed against your ear and the soft rasp of his voice returned.

“You know, that’s a Bruins shirt,” he teased, scruff grazing your damp skin as his lips connected with your shoulder.

“Mhm,” you flatly responded.

“Going against your word pretty fast, eh?”

“Yeah, well,” you started, nuzzling back into him. “I told you I hated you and ended up in your bed, so,” you turned to him slightly, “unreliable source.”

He chuckled softly and brought his fingers up to brush your hair back, pressing a light kiss to your cheek. “Night, Marner.”

“Shut up,” you mumbled, and he laughed one final time before closing his eyes and relaxing into you.

So, against everything that you stood for just hours before, you fell asleep in Trent Frederic’s arms without much forethought. In his shirt and his bed, effectively leaving your friends behind because they’d for some odd reason just slipped your mind completely.

And when Trent woke up the next morning, he was no longer in your company, much to his dismay. Any trace of your presence the night before had perished, down to the towel on the floor. But there was one thing—one saving grace that caught his eye as he scanned the room.

A piece of paper on the nightstand with a phone number scribbled on it and a small note below it that read,

“For the next time you’re in Toronto.”

[kifkay]

so remember when the specialists had dragons?..

they used to ride them throughout seasons 1-3 and it appearead to be part of their training.

first years at the Red Fountain must be dying for the day their training with the dragons starts. because - dragons!! those mythical, badass, fire-breathing machines of destruction - they are probably so sacred in Magix's culture due to their ties to the Great Dragon!! who wouldn't be excited at the opportunity?

it might even be a rite of passage for the specialists. like, yes - you train, you go on missions, you give your oaths to protect the balance of the universe. but it is once you earn the privilege of riding a dragon - once you bond with them, properly and spiritually - only then, can you call yourself a true Specialist.

even though it is a mandatory part of their education, once you pass the course - you are not required to ride or even guaranteed to have a dragon. you gotta bond with one first, and put in the work of training, taming and flying with the creature regularly. it's a huge commitment, both personal and academic (considered outdated too, now that cosmic ships are a thing) that not everybody is willing to make.

from the boys, Sky and Riven believe in the image of a perfect specialist the hardest. the upholder of good and right, the dragon rider, the knight. both of them so desperately want to be that, to quell their inner voices that tell them they are too rotten at their core. they pursue dragon-riding beyond the mandatory course, and get to keep their dragons upon graduation.

Sky's dragon is small, yet quick as lightning. He lovingly calls her Pearl. Sky hesitates to ride her into battles, instead taking her flying laps around Erendor.

Riven's dragon is a Big Boi, nicknamed Fang. Riven felt connected to that big, hurt tomcat of a dragon immediately - for Fang, it was more of a slow burn lol.

Timmy had a legit allergy on dragons. poor boy barely survived the course and staunchly relegated himself to cosmic ships.

Nabu was never an actual Red Fountain student, so he didn't get to train with dragons - but he is very curious of them and loves to study them from a distance.

Brandon never felt as free as when he was riding a dragon's back. his trainee dragon was named Sunrise - for her golden, shimmering scales and fiery temperament; they loved to fly together. however, he didn't continue the training, since his team already had two dragon riders and he wanted to be practical.

(Brandon misses Sunrise terribly, but she seems to hold a grudge and doesn't grace him with her attention when she visits)

Helia doesn't have a dragon anymore. nevertheless, he visits the dragon barracks and helps take care of them. both Fang and Pearl are very familiar with him - not affectionate, for that privilege is reserved for their riders, but not cold nor threatening either.

he did have a dragon, once. Dream. he was a young dragon - Saladin had raised Dream himself, promising the creature to Helia upon the latter's birth. the Specialist and the dragon's bond was so deep, Dream would often take on Helia's emotions.

Dream died on one of the missions Helia led. the boy was not resting well, training too much and eating too little - he was consumed with the responsibility of being his team's leader, and Saladin's 'prodigal' grandson. Dream took on his worries' as well, growing restless and tired. on that fateful day, the young dragon was not strong enough to stave off the rush of monsters - and was brutally massacred by them, in turn.

Helia dropped out of Red Fountain the next morning and never rode another dragon.