#like reading drugging in fics n all that isn't new to me

[sohya]

the ritual

[sincerelyneo]

will you be reposting the jeno fic you had on your old blog? it was my fave 🥺

here it is <3

fireproof | l.jn

“‘cause no body saves me baby the way you do”

💿now playing: fireproof by one direction

❯ summary: Your brother Jaemin loves throwing parties when your parents aren’t home — but you hate it. In an attempt to escape the loud music and sweaty bodies you try and head out. But there’s no way your brother’s best friend, Jeno, is letting you wander around the streets so late.

❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader

❯ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, college!au

❯ words: 8.4k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, masturbation, minor mentions of drug use, drinking, marking, slight protective brother jaemin, begging, spanking, mentions of marking, unprotected sex (don't do this!), oral sex (m/f receiving), fingering, reader uses she/her pronouns, jeno fucks his best friend’s little sister.

a/n: i changed the title hehehe

This party fucking sucks.

You’re not even drunk. The vodka is watered down, you're sure of it. Your friends ditched you about half an hour ago — disappearing with some of the guys they had been speaking to and seeing. 

"Come to the party with us, they said." You mimic to yourself into your plastic cup. "It'll be fun, they said." 

You scoff taking another swig but pull your face at the awful taste that lingers in your mouth. There are better things you could be doing on a Saturday night, you think. You’re almost positive you saw a new show released on Netflix today. Or better yet, you could be reading some sort of erotic novel that would spice up your Saturday night more than this shit.

But the thing is, this party is at your own fucking house.

Your brother is throwing it. 

Every time your parents go away for one weekend he can’t help but jump at the opportunity to trash the place. You don't see why he can't just have a few of the boys around, have some beers and then call it a night. But no, that isn't exactly Jaemin’s style. 

Of course, he has to invite a bunch of random weirdos that seem to be snorting cocaine off of every surface in this house, and smoking whatever kind of weed they could find. And sure, you’re not impartial to a good night but this... this is not your idea of a good night.

At all.

Sighing, you push through the masses of people, seeing the sweaty bodies that are dry humping one another or eating each other's faces off so much you feel like you’re going to throw up at the sight. 

Stopping in your tracks, you reach into the back pocket of your denim jeans to pull out your phone, seeing that it is half-past midnight. If you know Jaemin — and you did — this was only the beginning of the night. The party is definitely far from over.

Fuck sake.

You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to manoeuvre around the bodies in the hallway. Your stomach growls and you think about how you're drinking on an empty stomach. The only thing open at this time is a Mcdonald's but you don't necessarily want to be that person that sits in McDonald's by themselves on a Saturday night. 

Still, you head for your front door and try your luck at an escape. As you reach your hand out to grab the door handle you smash headfirst into a body. Well to be more specific a chest. A hard chest.

"Ow, fuck!" You lift your hand up, rubbing your forehead.

"Sorry little Na, didn't see you there." You immediately recognise that voice. The deep slowness in which he talks. It’s the only voice that has a straight hotline to your core. 

Yeah, you couldn't ever forget that voice.

You stop rubbing your head and slowly look up, following the lines of his muscled chest that you can see through the tight white t-shirt he's wearing with a pair of denim jeans and converse. Yes you had already checked him out tonight, but you’re only human. And when your eyes meet that sharp jawline, hollowed-out cheekbones and those damming brown eyes, you involuntarily clench your thighs together.

You shun yourself because you know you can’t have him. And that’s the reason why you hate him. 

He's your brother’s best friend.

Lee fucking Jeno.

The worst man on this planet. for many reasons like for one he’s insanely hot. Like too hot. Who on this planet even needs to be that hot? But to make it worse he knows he's hot. Girls are always flying off his arm fueling his ego. He's also selfish and arrogant. 

But the reason you hate him the most, the reason you despise him so much, and avoid him at all costs is because of the burning need — it's past being a want it's a fucking need — to just devour him. Every part of you screams out whenever he is in the same room. 

And you hate it.

You have zero control over your words and actions with him — and he knows it with how much you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of him over the years. Your cheeks tend to grow red without your permission, and oh does he love to point that out.

Ever since your brother brought him home in his first year of high school, they have been inseparable — and you’ve been madly in love.

Well, you’re not in love with the boy. You just, you know, want to rip his clothes off. And let him fuck the living daylights out of you.

"Aw, there they are." He distracts you from your thoughts. 

His eyes are burning straight through you. As if he can tell what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. And right now, you have very infuriating dampness in your panties that wasn't there 30 seconds ago. 

"Those rosy cheeks, are they for me, little Na?" You swat his hand away as it attempts to reach up to caress your cheek or some stupid shit like that.

"Stop that Jeno!” You snap at him, getting angry is your default with him.

It the perfect remedy to keep him away from you, so you don't do something stupid like fuck your brother’s best friend

“Please just get out my way.” 

"Such a pleasant girl, aren't you?" He winks. 

He fucking winks, and your pussy screams in delight. If you were any other girl, you’d be swooning right now. You’d be on your knees begging for it. 

Well, you won't be on your  knees for him.

Ever.

Especially not tonight.

"Just get out of my way, Jeno,” you push him rather hard. 

You knew it wouldn't make him budge if he didn't want it too but he dramatically moved out of your way of the door. You yank it open and dart through onto the front lawn. Halfway down the driveway, a sharp tug on your arm spins you around and you’re  faced with Jeno... again.

"Fuck sake, what do you want?" You shake your arm out of his grip but he doesn't let go. 

You give up, huffing and dropping your shoulders. The two of you are just staring at each other, so much so that you didn't even realise how close you really were. Your chests are almost touching, there is a hair width between you. And due to your height, if you looked forwards you’d be looking at the bottom of his neck, right where you see him gulp before meeting your eyes again. They seem to burn into yours, suddenly growing intense. 

He is the first to look away but he doesn't just look away, no. You watch as his eyes flash down to your lips. Your breath hitches, he sees that and when he looks back to your eyes again, he flashes you a knowing smirk.

Motherfucker. 

"Come back inside." He says as he throws his head to the side, signalling to your house.

"No," you all but stomp your foot.

"You're such a fucking brat, you know that right?" He growls, closing that gap so that your chests touch. There’s an electricity running through you, begging for him. 

"I'm not a fucking brat, I just don't want to be here at this shitty party!” 

You don't break his eye contact, chests still touching. He can sure as hell feel each heavy breath you take and probably every beat of your heart that seems to have sped up since he moved closer.

"Just go inside, go to your room, anything. Just don't fucking leave, your brother would have my balls if I let you go out alone this late at night.” 

You roll your eyes at the mention of your brother. You love him, you really do, but hearing the word brother leaves Jeno’s lips reminds you exactly why he’s even here.

It’s not for you — it’s for Jaemin’s sake. 

"I don't see why either of you care, you've got plenty of booze and girls to keep you occupied to not even notice me gone,” you stand your ground, trying to tug your arm once again but he still won't let go.

However, he has loosened his grip so it isn't so harsh, but it's still locked around your wrist. In fact, you’re sure you feel him drawing little circles on the inner skin with his thumb and that thought alone has you squirming no matter how much you try to ignore it. 

"I think I'd always notice when you're not there," Jeno says under his breath, his face lowering to yours. 

If you didn't know better then you’d think he was about to kiss you. But that can't happen. Can it? 

Everything but your core is saying no. Your whole body is screaming to open up your mouth and say please. But you ignore it — you always do— and try to keep a brave face. But as he gets so close, too close, your eyes automatically flutter shut.

You expect his lips to graze yours but they don't, instead, you feel his cheek against you , only faintly, as his lips skim your ear lobe.

"I think I'd always notice when you're not there because there won't be some childish little brat moaning about not getting her own way." 

Your eyes shoot open as he pulls back, laughing at your flushing cheeks. Your eyes narrow as you finally tug your arm hard enough this time that he has no choice but to release you. 

"I do not moan about not getting my own way and I am not childish nor a brat,” you sneer at him. 

"Sure,-" he huffs, laughing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whatever you say." 

"Why can’t you just go inside and leave me alone,” you cross your own arms over your chest. 

"No can do." He stands there like some sort of bouncer, you look to your right and see the path only a few steps away. He watches you and says a low, demanding, "Don't." 

But you do it. 

You spin on your heel and run for it. But you only make it two steps before two large arms are wrapped around your waist from behind and you’re being sprung back into a hard chest. Jeno’s one arm sits tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your hip and you squirm against him. To stop your wriggling, his other hand flies up to grab a hold of your throat, tilting your head back to the rest of his shoulder. 

His eyes flash to his hand around your neck and he takes a deep breath that causes his eyes to flutter shut. Then you feel something growing behind you causing your own eyes to grow wide. He leans forward, lips skimming yours barely. 

“I said don't." It sounded more like a growl than anything and a small whimper escaped your lips. "Are you going to walk inside or am I going to have to carry you?" He whispers still close to your mouth. If you lifted your head slightly, you’d be kissing.

"I'm not going back inside." You sternly reply, he just laughs and his hold loosens on you. 

But he doesn’t free you. Instead he throws you clean over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. 

“Put. Me. Down. Jeno." You scream, hitting his back, but he doesn't listen. Carrying on heading back inside your house. 

Your cheeks are bright red and you stop your attack on Jeno’s back and decide to clench his shirt in your fists and hide your face in it.

"What's going on here?" You hear Jaemin’s voice and your head flies up.

"Your sister tried to escape," Jeno says laughing, bending down to lower you to the ground. 

When he stood back up, you were so close your bodies touched again, your breasts rubbed against his firm chest and your nipples stiffened. His eyes glanced down to them and they darken, then he looks to you again and grabs your shoulders, spinning you around to face your brother. You automatically lifted your arms up and over your breasts to cover the obvious arousal.

"Come on Y/N, you know you can't be walking around aimlessly at night." Jaemin chastises you.

"I'm not a child Jaem," you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.

"So what? Grown ass people still get kidnapped!” 

You groan, I'm going to my room." 

You push past him and head towards the stairs. You turn around seeing Jeno’s smug face knowing he’s got his own way about you coming back inside.

But you won’t give him the satisfaction. You’ll  just sneak out the window and have your perfect escape. He won't know. 

Not like he’ll come to check — right?

You spin on your heel as you hear the sound of footsteps following behind you. Jeno’s there, eyes locked on your ass until he sees you looking back down at him and then cocks his head to the side and smiles innocently. 

“What are you doing?” You spit. 

"Just making sure you actually do go to your room." He flashes his infamous eye smile that has plagued your dreams since you first met him. "And that your windows are locked. Don't want you running away now do we?" he winks at you.

He’s so irritating!

With a huff, you turn around and storm your way up the last couple of stairs, making sure your stomps are extra loud. You can just hear Jeno snickering behind you and that only rattles you even more. When you reach the landing you turn immediately and head to the last door of the hallway and pull it open, stepping inside of your bedroom. You go to slam the door shut but a sneaker covered foot stops in between preventing it.

You immediately roll your eyes and groan. 

"Leave me alone Jeno." You groan, leaning up against the door with your back, pushing it.

"Let me check your windows then I'll leave."

"What kind of request is that?” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. 

"Just let me."

"No."

The two of you enter a stare off — one you both know he’s going to win. And he does, because you don’t even let two whole minutes pass before you’re huffing out a “Fine.” 

He makes his way over to your window, making sure it's locked, then he chuckles, drawing your curtains too. The only thing lightening the room was your bedside lamp that you had an awful habit of leaving on. That, and it was the perfect deterrent to make it look like someone was in there, keeping strangers from having sex on your bed.

“All done?” You ask, breathy. 

He smirks, his eyes flashing to your lips again and you swear to god if he does that one more time you’re either going to kick him in the balls or jump on him and kiss him. 

You force yourself to take a step back and take a deep breath which makes him laugh.

"Well goodnight little Na, don't go sneaking out because I will know about it." He walks off to the door and before he exits you say,

"And how would you possibly know that?"

He looks over his shoulder, his eyes flash up and down your body, "I just will,” he winks then closes the door behind him.

You huff out and stomp your foot like a child. God you needed to grow a backbone and stop letting that idiot mess with you. 

Storming into your bathroom you slam the door shut. You strip off your clothes and turn on the shower. Whilst waiting for it to get up to temperature, you sigh. 

"Let me just lock your windows for ya." You pull a face copying him. "Want me to check that for ya?"

Once you’re done in the shower you climb out of it and dry yourself with a towel. 

"He's so fucking annoying ugh," you say to yourself as you pull the bathroom door open and saunter into your bedroom naked. 

You don't even check to see if anyone was in there, too busy ranting about him. And when you feel the cold draft of your bedroom it makes you realise you had just walked into your unlocked bedroom naked. Immediately, you covered your body remembering the party going on downstairs; but on first glance, it appeared no one was in there. Still you quickly grab your oversized grey t-shirt from the end of your bed, throwing it on over your head, but skipping your underwear. 

Your room was fairly simple with white furniture, a wooden floor, soft pink bedding, a few cuddly toys. The bed lies against the far wall, opposite the door and you leave your lamp on to have a little bit of light to help you sleep. 

Trying to fall asleep you flip over so your back faces the light. You try a few different sleep scenarios but everything keeps going back to Jeno.

And the way his hand gripped around your neck. 

You flip over again, keeping your eyes shut, yet, Jeno just waltzes into your mind continuously. Like he won't leave you alone. You feel so much anger coursing through your blood, yet you have this strange pulling into your core. 

You need to give attention to it — so you do. And as soon as you slip your hand under the covers, the fantasies start rolling in. Jeno’s arms around you, grabbing at your waist, your hips, your ass, your breasts.

Your breath hitches.

His tongue in your mouth, along your skin, tracing your neck and stomach, then between your folds lapping at you. Your eyes shoot open as you clench your thighs together and immediately feel the wetness.

It was just too much to ignore. This wasn’t going away. You already knew that. 

You just needed some relief and then you’ll be free for the night. Jeno never needs to know and it’s not like you haven’t done this exact same thing before over him. 

Your right hand finds your centre first, sliding between the folds and instantly feeling the slick wetness there. Slowly and sensually, you begin moving your fingers in a circular motion. Eyes closing instantly, flashes of Jeno now being played before you.

In your mind, it was no longer your hand but his. Rubbing your clit, sending shivers down your spine and causing a small panting moan to escape you. 

Your left hand begins clutching at the sheets and as you feel your nipples peak and rub against the soft material of your shirt, you have no choice but to swiftly move your hand up and under to take hold of your own breasts and squeeze. You moan again as you begin to work your fingers faster over your clit.

Now in your head, Jeno stood before you shirtless. Seeing the ripples in the muscles of his abs, he flexes his arms, making you grow weaker. But you always felt like this whenever you saw him shirtless at the pool, or the beach. 

And you couldn't deny how fucking sexy he was — you wouldn’t?”

"What’re you thinking about?" 

You pause instantly, back arched, orgasm growing close and eyes squeezed shut. You can't decipher whether that voice was in your head or in real life so you just grow still and relax, trying to pretend it didn’t happen. 

Your breathing which was already heavy, grows even more so, this time with panic and worry. You don't want to open your eyes, scared of what you might see because you recognised that voice.

At least, you’re really fucking hoping Jeno’s voice is all in your head, because you’re seconds away from orgasm.

"I asked you a question." 

Your eyes fly open. He’s definitely not in your head. 

Ripping your hand away from your clit, you pull the other away from your nipple and force yourself into a seated position with your hands splayed behind to hold you up. You scream on instinct, he doesn't so much as flinch as he stands at the end of your bed. 

His eyes are dark, head low and looking up at you through his lashes. He has that smirk on his face, and his hands are fidgeting, rolling his fingers against his palm. Your eyes roam his body as your scream continues and you wish you hadn't, only because your scream turned into a moan as you spied his hard erection pushing against his jeans.

You gasp and look back at his face. 

"What're you doing Jeno?" You whisper-shout, even though the party downstairs would make it difficult for anyone to hear you anyway. 

Still, you didn’t want any party goers walking in on a flustered you in bed with Jeno and his very large, very prominent erection, standing at the base. 

Fuck. It's so big. You can tell from how it's breaking at the seams of his jeans to be let free. Your mouth waters at the sheer thought of his dick — wondering what it looks like, how it feels in your hands, in your mouth — how it tastes. 

Fuck no. Absolutely not. 

You shake your head, trying to rid the thoughts and ignore the fact your core is pulsing right now, begging for one last touch so you can explode into orgasm. You really fucking needed it.

"I asked you what you were thinking about?" He says lowly, and it causes your breathing to still.

“H-how long have you been standing there?" You whimper. 

He shrugs, “That doesn't matter, what does matter is-" he moves his head up, looking you dead in the eyes as he cracks his neck and then his fists in each hand. "-What you were thinking about whilst touching yourself? Was it me?" 

He smirks again and you stood up, throwing the duvet off of your legs. 

"Not a chance," He says sternly. You look at him again, face paling. 

"What do you mean, no?" you ask, cocking your head.

"I mean don't you fucking move-" His tongue came out to lap at his bottom lip as his eyes moved down your body, down your legs. 

You instantly went to grab the duvet again but he grabbed it first, ripping it from the bed and throwing it across the room. You get down on all fours, crawling to try and get it before him. 

"Jeno!" You exclaim, reaching your hand out for it but it was too far away. You look up at him on all fours, and from this angle... God. You gulp. 

"Give me my cover."

You try to wash away every fantasy of being in this position before him but you can't ignore the way you need his hard cock, seeping at the tip and begging for you to lick it, to suck it. 

Stop. No. Not now.

His hand comes to the side of your face, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear and you shiver at the touch. 

"Lie. Back. On. The. Bed." He commands.

Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and then slowly, you move to follow his command until you are back down on the bed. You keep your legs closed and hands on your stomach. 

You weren’t sure why you’re listening to him — obeying him . But something in you, some instinct is just screaming at you to let this play out, see what he wants.

"Touch yourself." He says and you blanch, your eyes growing wide and you sit up again, but one stern look from him has you lying back down again. "Touch yourself and tell me what you think of, how you feel, tell me everything Y/N."

Your name. He never bothers to call you that. Usually emphasising how you’re his best friend’s little sister with the nickname he’d given you. But honestly, you’re thankful for the nickname because hearing your actual name from his lips, all nasally and sensual, sends you spiralling. 

It makes you putty in his hands. And as for your hands? Well, they slowly spread your legs wide revealing your soaking wet cunt to him. You keep your eyes pierced on him, watching how his breath hitches, eyes glued to you. The way he automatically grabs his cock through his jeans and squeezes is like a reflex. Closing his eyes only briefly before they're back on you, on your core. 

You feel yourself growing red, the heat of embarrassment consuming you whole as you slide your hand down your stomach. As soon as your fingers make contact with your clit, your hips are bucking off of the bed and your back starts to curve. Building up your arousal doesn't take long. You were already half there, teetering on the edge. 

Except this time your eyes lock onto Jeno’s for real whilst your fingers are moving, soft moans leaving your lips. You spy his own hand on his cock, he hasn't pulled it free but he moves his hand back and forth over his shaft. You can see the way his arms tense as he moves and watches you.

You throw your head back with another moan. Seeing him stood there isn't enough, you need something more. You need him climbing on top of you, replacing your fingers with his. His hot breath against your neck as he rubs you harder and faster. 

"What are you thinking about?"

"You." You say breathily.

"What about me?"

Your eyes shoot open to stare at him, he looks tense and flustered. Just as bad as you. His hand stops moving on his cock and you make a mental note that he might've been close. Too close. And this might be over too soon.

"Your fingers on my clit, rubbing me," you throw your head back as the fantasy flashes again. 

"Yes, and what else?" He growls. 

"Your mouth." You breathe again.

"My mouth, huh?" He bites and your fantasy continues. 

"Yes. Everywhere." You cry out, orgasm seconds away. "Your mouth on me, about to- God, Jeno I'm gonna cum,” your back arches, hips bucking, fingers moving so fast and rough. 

"Look at me." Your eyes fly open at the command. "I want you to cum whilst looking at me."

And you do. The sheer dominance radiating off of him is the final straw that has you crashing down. 

Your orgasm rips through you as your hips lift so far off the bed. You moved your fingers through your orgasm, riding it out but finally, your hips fell back to the bed and you let out a heavy breath.

Before you could even open your eyes again, you felt two large arms wrap under your thighs gripping your hips, and suddenly you’re yanked to the end of the bed. Your eyes snap open, and your head lifts up as you spy Jeno on his knees at the end of the bed, his mouth centimetres from your dripping pussy.

"J-Jeno,” you mumble, just the sight of him has you moaning. 

You’re not sure if getting yourself off in front of him was the moment you both decided to cross the line; but now him manoeuvring between your legs, you knew you definitely had. Regardless, you know now you aren't ever going back to the dynamic you had before. 

"I’m gonna make those fantasies come to life baby.” 

He doesn't miss a beat. His tongue comes out and swipes a long lick up and through your folds. All common sense leaves your head as you fall back against the bed. 

"God, you taste so good. I fucking knew you would." 

He’s thought about this? You know you have. 

He repeats the motion again, this time focusing on your clit, making sure to run a smooth stripe along it, circling it only slightly, enough to have you wriggling. One of his hands splays over your stomach, holding your hips down. 

"I want you to cum on my tongue. I want to taste every drop of you,” you gulp, looking down at him between your thighs. You don't miss the dark pupils in his eyes and that daring look, the one telling you to follow his instructions. 

"Jeno, oh my god,” you cry out, your head flying back as his mouth attacks your clit. He sucks it in, flicking his tongue all over in a frenzied motion. 

You know he knows all the right ways to make a girl squirm. And you are fucking squirming. All over the fucking bed, you’d be breaking free from him if he didn't have his large veined hand holding your stomach down. Your stomach is now on show. Your t-shirt has risen up to just below your breasts and you see the way his eyes watch the movement as you move about, tits bouncing around.

And as if he can hear your thoughts he says,

"Take your top off." 

You do it without question, lifting the hem and throwing it over your head. Now you’re laying there completely naked. His hand that was on your stomach comes up and takes hold of one breast, instantly taking your nipple between his fingers and you hear him, no you feel him, moan into your pussy. 

The vibrations cause you to cry out, hands knuckling the bed sheets. 

"You're so fucking hot Y/N, God." He murmurs before attacking you again, his mouth working wonders.

And that tongue. You’re so close. You can feel it. 

Then you feel as he slides two fingers into you. Jeno curls his fingers inside of you, hitting some sort of sensitive spot, and as soon as his fingers massage that area inside you and his mouth returns to your clit, you explode.

You don't even know if the music downstairs would cover your screams as you fell into ecstasy. His hand on your breast doesn’t  move, but the one that had been hooked on your hip moves to splay against your stomach holding you down as he laps at you, riding you through your second orgasm until you couldn’t take it anymore. He pulls his fingers out, then his mouth away from you at just the right time.

You lay there spent. Completely. 

Eyes fluttering open. Jeno stood between your legs looking down at you. His cock looked painful in his jeans. You had once felt exhausted and ready to fall asleep but as soon as you saw his erection you shot up in your seat. You immediately fumble with his jeans until his hand comes to your jaw, pulling your head up to look into his eyes. He stares for a moment before blinking, taking a deep breath.

"You don't have to- I didn't do that for you to-"

"I want to. I want this." You nod eagerly,"I want you.” 

You lick your lips and it's as if something snaps in him, that moment of care vanishes and he lets go of your chin.

"Well then, suck my cock,” he says, standing there and you do as you’re told.

You unfasten his jeans, pull them down and then his underwear. His large erect cock springs free instantly and without a second thought you take hold of him in your hand. Your hands look tiny against his dick. 

You move your hand slowly up and down his cock, and notice how his thighs tense, then his stomach and you follow your eyes up until you meet his face. His head is hung low, eyes dark and hands clenched by his sides. Keeping your eyes on his, you lean forward and spy the precum, flicking your tongue out and taking it in to swallow down with a moan that makes him grunt. 

You moved so that your face was closer to his balls, then you stroked your tongue all along his length, and felt the way he flexed beneath your muscle. There’s a cocky smirk covering your face when you move back to the top and suck his tip into your mouth.

"Do you like sucking my cock?" He asks, his hand threading into your hair to start pulling on the roots to yank your head backwards. 

"Do you like it when I suck your cock, Jeno?" You flip the question with a smile the power in your hands. You continue working him and he flexes his hand in your hair.

"That's how you wanna play?" He grins at you.

You pretend to think for a moment, "I’m not playing anything." You move your head closer down his length, licking  another long stripe hearing how he curses under his breath and thrusts his hips towards you. "I just want to suck your cock." 

With that, you take him into your mouth, sliding down until you reach your limit. You can't take him whole, he’s way too big for that, but you take what you can. He coughs and splutters a bunch of inaudible words, but you just pull back up and repeat the motion, continuing to take him back into your throat. 

His hand stays threaded in your hair, keeping a rough hold so that you can't pull away — not that you wanted to.  

You love every second. Even as you feel him tensing, his hips moving as he thrusts into your mouth. You look up through your lashes to see his head thrown back as he moans out and hisses every so often when you drag your teeth along his cock. You can tell he likes it as the precum coats your tongue. That and the way he doesn't tell you to stop. 

"Do. That. Again."

And you do, watching his head fall forwards."Such a pretty sight, my cock filling your mouth. What do you think your brother would think about this?" he smirks and your face falls pale.

You almost stop sucking his dick but he doesn't let you, slamming his hips forwards so his cock hits the back of your throat.

Your brother.

Not a thought you want to think about right now but it is something you needed to consider. This was his best friend. You’d finally gotten the man so forbidden, always out of bounds. The whole time you didn’t know that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. 

You moan uncontrollably, and it must send vibrations along his cock as you feel it twitch in your mouth, his thrusts become sloppy and his grip on your hand grows tighter. 

"Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna cum." He grits out. "Are you gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours?" 

You look up at him. You can't speak so you try to nod. 

"God, you’ve always been the death of me," He thrusts several more times as you slide your tongue all over his length and tip. 

You do it a final time as you take him to the back of your throat, gliding your teeth along him which must've been his undoing as you felt the hot steaming cum splatter against the back of your throat. 

You pulled him out your mouth slowly. Even as he is softening he is still thick and large. You kitten lick the tip as he hisses, causing him to loosen his grip in your hair and you sit back, making sure to obviously gulp so he knows you swallowed every last drop of him. Leaning forwards, his hand comes to your chin and he moves his mouth so close to your you think he might kiss you but instead he says,

"Good girl." 

You hate the way those two words made you clench your thighs together. You thought the two orgasms were enough but no, you’re ready for more. You need more. 

He’s quick to remove his shirt, and as he lifts his arms his abs flex. You are point-blank gawking at him standing before you, making him smirk. 

That snaps you out of it. Remembering you are sitting here, soaking wet and naked before him. You crawl back on the bed and then realise you have no duvet so you have to pull your knees to your chest and cross your arms over your knees to cover yourself. 

He watches you, laughs and then shakes his head. He then moves, shoving off his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off until they both land on the floor.

"Wh-What are you doing?" You ask stuttering, thinking he should actually be getting dressed to leave.

"What do you think I'm doing?" he asks. 

Can't he ever just give you a simple answer? 

Then you notice how his cock has sprung to life again and his hand moves to touch it. Moving up and down the length as he cracks his neck.

"You're h-hard again?" You stutter, eyes glued to the impressive size of him. 

"I'm always hard for you baby." He winks and for once, it didn't make you want to punch him. 

"Jeno, we can't." You shake your head.

 You’re already way past the line. Sex would destroy the whole scale. Still, the idea of him, his cock inside of you, whispering filthy things in your ear... it isn't something you can ignore. 

"You want it." He says point blankly. 

You gulp and remain silent. He moves onto the bed, kneeling and then crawls towards you until he is over you. His hair has fallen over his eyes — so fucking hot. "I know you want it, why try to deny it?" He cocks his head to the side, smugly.

"I-I'm not." You fidget. 

“Yes, you are." He ducks his head low, burying it in your neck. You feel his warm breath and your heartbeat rackets so loud. "You don't want to want me to fuck you,” His teeth graze your neck, sending you into a panting mess as he sucks and bites. 

He then pulls away and laps at the mark you know is there, the one he put there as a reminder tomorrow when you come to your senses that you did this.

"So I’ll ask again. What do you want?" He looks down at you, plump pink lips swollen and wet from his constant licking and biting them. 

You’re going to let your brothers best friend fuck you. And you’re going to love every second of it.

Not wasting another moment longer to think, you grab hold of his neck and lift your head whilst pulling him to you to smash your lips together. There’s heat, fire, and explosions of electricity. 

Your hands claw at his neck, his back, his sides. Anything to pull him closer. His crotch, his hard cock, grinds against your soaking hole and you groan out whilst continuing to kiss him. Both so desperate for each other. His hands skim down your body, kneading your breasts, your hips. He grabs hold of anywhere and everywhere. 

His lips detach from yours, giving you a moment to see how swollen they are before they're attacking your neck. He peppers kisses along your jaw, not sweet kisses but hard and sloppy kisses. Sucking and biting the skin causing your back to arch into his chest, pushing your breasts against him, making him moan. He thrusts his hips forwards, his cock sliding between your folds, hitting against your clit making you quiver.

"Fuck, we really shouldn't be doing this." He continues kissing you down your neck, reaching your collar bones that he also decides to leave marks on. 

"Jeno please," you cry out. Both of his hands move to your hips to hold you still. 

"Please what baby?" He smirks before moving lower to take one of your nipples into his mouth.

"Fuck Jeno,” you cry out as he flicks his tongue over the bud, biting it harshly so you cry out again then soothing it with a soft warm suck.

"Please what baby?" He repeats. 

"Fuck me. Now!”

"And what about your brother?" he brings him up again and you roll your eyes. 

"Stop bringing him up," You moan as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, repeating the process.

"He'll kill us if he finds out." he grins.

"Then he can't find out," You pant out of breath as Jeno moves.

His face is so close to yours that your lips are only just touching, his chest is pushed against you and his cock sits lodged between your folds. You try to shift to gain some friction against your clit but his grip holds you still. His eyes flicker across your face then he says,

"I won't tell if you won't?" His lips caress yours in the faintest of movements. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, but in the process he bites onto your muscle making you wince then moan, "What do you think, huh?” 

There’s no room for discussion — your body won’t let you. 

"I won't tell if you won't."

He doesn't miss a beat once he gets your approval. His lips are on yours as his hips thrust forwards. His cock thrusting inside of you, tearing you open as you pull your mouth away to cry out.

"Holy fuck."

He stills once inside you, making sure to push as far as possible until his pelvis meets your skin. Your legs wrap around his waist instantly.

"You feel so fucking good." He breaks from your kiss to breathe. "I always knew you would but this-" he looks down to where you are connected and he thrusts further, trying to get deeper but he can't possibly. "-this is better than anything I could've imagined." 

"Move, please." You grunt trying to lift your hips to encourage some movement. His eyes fly open, dark and daring. 

"Beg me." He smirks and does a tiny thrust, a teasing thrust.

"Fuck off,” you pant, trying to do it yourself but he uses his hips to pin you to the bed.

"Beg." He smiles and cocks his head to one side. "Me."

You hated his arrogance. But fuck, you want him so bad. So badly that you will beg.

"Please fuck me, Jeno." He pulls out of you and you suck in a deep breath.

"Again." He grins now. 

You can't bear to look at him but looking down means watching as he holds just the tip inside of me.

"Please. Fuck. Me." You pant, half moaning, begging for him. 

He thrusts so hard into you, you wince and moan out in pleasure. He hit so deep inside that you’re sure you’ll bruise.

"Anything for you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear before sucking and biting on the lobe. 

Then he's pulling out and thrusting into you. Again. And again. And again. Harder and harder each time. Faster and faster. You lose your breath, becoming a big ball of pants and moans — just like  Jeno.

God, the sounds he makes. You’ve never heard someone so vocal before, but fuck it's hot. The small grunts he makes when he fucks you, the groans when you clench around his cock and feel yourself building. He moves his hands under your ass to lift it, plummeting into you from a new angle, going so much deeper.

"Your pussy is so tight. Fuck,” He says between thrusts, and gritted teeth. 

He seems to have found a weak spot right under your ear that has you clenching like mad around his cock. And he loves it. 

"How have you just been there in front of me this whole time? How have I stayed away from you?" He seems to be asking himself because he doesn’t press you for a reply. 

He removes his lips from your neck and sits back on his heels, his cock still inside of you, slowing his thrusts and he lifts your legs up, moving them over his shoulders. His head moves from side to side, placing a soft kiss on each ankle and for one second. You’re dumbfounded as he looks at you, a daring smirk written across his face. 

He wraps his arms around your thighs, locking your legs in a straight position against his chest on either side of his head, and then he begins pounding into you again. However this time, he moves one of his hands to your centre, his thumb moving closer to your clit. You feel how it grazes your nerves. He strums it once. Twice. Three times then you're wriggling around like a mess, back arching off as your orgasm tears through your body and you explode into euphoria. Again.

He rides you through it, fucking you as you clench and squeeze around him. A string of curse words come out of him, you feel him so close but he doesn't cum. He stops stroking your clit as you batted his hand away, you didn't realise you had been clenching the sheets with white knuckles until you relax your hands and feel a cramp in your palm.

Jeno slows his thrusts until he stills inside of you, his chest is moving up and down with each of his heavy breaths. You move your legs off of his shoulders, enjoying the movements as your legs feel strained too.

But as soon as your feet hit the bed, he grabs you and flips you so you land on your stomach. He pulls your hips up and slides into you again.

"Fuck!" You scream as he slams into you unapologetically. One hand holding your hip, the other trails along your back as he begins fucking you from behind. He leans over you, still ploughing, and comes closer to your ear.

"I always wanted to fuck you like this, you are always strutting around showing off, your ass? Do you like teasing me?" 

You don't even know what you like right now. Mind too focused on needed Jeno to fuck you any way he pleased. 

He grins, then shoves your head back down into the mattress, straightening his back and fucks you harder than you think you’ve ever have been before. You couldn't keep up with the movements, head a complete daze from all of the orgasms that he had given you.

You come to a conscious mind when a hard slap lands on your ass, it makes your pussy throb so he does it again, and again, rubbing over the area and soothing it before doing it again. Each time it makes you clench around him. 

"Jeno," you cry out between thrusts.

"Yeah, baby?" His voice sounded so much deeper, which told you he was close. That and the way his thrusts grew random and unstable.

"Want you to cum in me," You moan, clenching the sheets again. 

"I'm not wearing a condom," He grits through his teeth. 

"I'm on the pill,” you manage to say between heavy breaths. You needed him to cum in you now. 

He shakes his head, "Last thing I need is to get my best friend's little sister pregnant." And that was that because he thrust a few more times, then pulls out, and instantly, all over your ass and back you felt a hot liquid splatter about. 

As soon as his grip left your hip you fell straight down onto the mattress, and your body was thankful for it. Everything hurt. He'd destroyed you. Fucked you, well and truly. And you couldn't stop the smile on your face.

"I'll go get a cloth." He said through some heavy breaths then climbed off of the bed and went to your bathroom. He emerged a moment later, used the warm cloth to clean up his mess although you notice him take a minute to look at it.

"Admiring your work?" You asked him through a laugh, he looked at you and shook his head chuckling. 

"Trust me, if I could take a picture I would,” he wipes it away. Then he returned to the bathroom to throw the cloth in the hamper but as soon as he stood in the doorway of you heard three loud knocks on your bedroom door. 

"Y/N? You in there? Have you seen Jeno?" 

You shot up in bed, suddenly not tired or spent. Jeno’s eyes grew wide too.

You lifted your finger to your lips and gestured to Jeno to stay in the bathroom. He didn't hesitate as he shuts the door. 

Jaemin would fucking kill him and you, without a doubt. Only moments ago you had his best friend’s cum covering your ass. 

"One second," you shout,  jumping out of bed and grabbing your T-shirt. Then you rush over to the door, paint on your best sleeping face and yawn whilst opening it. 

"Oh, you were asleep?" Jaemin stood on the other side, hands braced on either side of the door frame.

You fake another yawn. He looks behind you and you turn too, fearful Jeno was standing there but then you spied your duvet cover on the other side of the room. Jamein frowned and looked back to you. 

"I was hot." You shrug. 

"Shit sorry," He quickly says. "I just can't find Jeno anywhere.” 

"He’s your friend not mine.”

"I don’t understand why you two hate each other," He rolls his eyes and you can't help but scoff at the irony. 

Hate wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for the guy that was just 8 inches deep inside of you. 

"Well, he's probably off getting high or fucking some girl.” 

“Better not be in our parent’s bed again,” he huffs, and your eyes go wide. “Fuck, he better not be doing it in my bed either,” he says to himself. 

And with that, he storms away heading for his room. Chuckling, you shut the door and Jeno emerges from the bathroom, a towel now wrapped around his waist and he stands there facing you. 

"That was close."

"Too close." You sigh. 

He dresses himself as you climb back in bed, getting your duvet back on and covering yourself with it. He walks over to the door and pulls it open, peeking outside to check the coast is clear, then once he does he turns to look over his shoulder at you.

"Our secret?" He says.

"Our secret." You nod and he steps out, not looking back and shuts the door.

You lie back on your bed, head falling into your pillows and laugh. 

But then you shake your head processing it all, moving your hand to cover your mouth, looking at the ceiling. 

You just fucked your brother’s best friend.

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader, eventual smut

Warnings: language, mention of drugs

Chapter Word Count: 2330

—-MDNI—-

A/N: wooooop new series! I'm trying something new with this one! As a mom myself I loooove reading mom!reader fics, so I wanted to write my own. It's a slightly shorter first chapter, but the following ones should be longer. Any feedback is greatly appreciated, reading your comments makes my day ❤️ and of course, this is proofread only by myself so pls pls let me know of any errors! I really hope you enjoy it. I also didn’t write this at 2am for once so brownie points to me hahaha

Photos from Pinterest

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Chapter 1

“Come on, (Y/n)! You have to tell me all about it! What was he like? Did you kiss? Hold hands? Where did he take you?”

I couldn’t help but smile at the rapidfire questions spewing from Kats mouth. Kat, the stunner sat opposite me with perfect dark skin and the inability to have a bad hair day, was my closest friend. We lived on the same street, drank at the same bar and both hated this small, slightly judgemental town equally. We bonded over the similarities in our lives - like both of us having fallen pregnant at a young age and being dealt the hand of having to raise our kids as single parents. Life was fucking hard sometimes (well, nearly all the time), but my son, Levi, and Kat, made this life worth living.

“Jesus Christ, ok! The date was ok.”

“Uh oh. ‘Ok’? That means it was awful, right?” she raised an eyebrow.

I took a gulp of my coffee.

“The date was ok. But he was…. Seriously not my type. He was too…perfect?” I winced as the words left my mouth, fully aware of how utterly ridiculous that sounded.

“Girl, ‘too perfect’? What the fuck kind of excuse is that?” Kat snorted slightly into her latte.

“I know, I know. But he reminded me of a Ken doll, ya’know? With his white jeans and his Armani sweater over his shoulders - that’s not really… me. The dude gets more manicures than I do. Plus he drives a Fiat Panda. Levi wouldn’t be caught dead getting in and out of one of those.”

“You can’t use your sons taste in cars to dictate the men in your life. That’s a low blow and you know it.”

“Ok then, you go out with Robert and tell me about all the kale facts that you never wanted to learn.” I leant back on the couch, clutching my coffee with both hands to bring some warmth to my fingertips. Kat did the same opposite me, leaning back in the plush armchair as we both took a second to glance out of the large café windows. This was our happy place, right here. It was the place we would come to when we first met and the boys were still in diapers. It was our happy place for the last nine years, and we would come here for every situation: be it a breakup, a catch-up, to discuss terrible sexual encounters or dire situations that need insane back-up plans. But we mostly came here to people-watch. Being the young, single moms that we were, we were constantly under the scrutiny of the small town, having every decision judged by the perfect Jeep-driving soccer moms and the old ladies from church. When we came here, to sit by this window in these comfy-as-fuck couches, it was our turn to do a little judging.

“Vicki Priestley isn't fooling anyone with those sunglasses,” I said, taking another sip of coffee as I watched the thin peroxide blonde across the street repeatedly wipe her nose with the back of her hand.

“Right? We get shunned for…well… fuck all, yet that Paris wannabe can snort coke on a Tuesday school run and everyone turns a blind eye? What a joke.”

“Amen to that,” we watched her for a few more seconds as she climbed behind the wheel of some monstrous four by four and sped off down the road.

“Did you hear that Mrs. Harris caught Mr. Harris with a young mistress? Apparently she works at the bank.”

“Oh my GOD yes I heard!” Kat exclaimed, leaning forward, “and as revenge she put Nair in his shampoo - he's completely hairless, even his eyebrows are gone.”

We both snickered as we raised our mugs.

“To Mrs. H for taking no shit.”

Conversation flowed as topics ranged from the new dessert parlour that opened last week down the road to the extortionate price of kids' Motocross gear.

“I mean the bikes are so tiny, why do they have to cost that much?”

“You're preaching to the choir babes, Toby just outgrew his boots for the third time this year,” Kat grimaced at the thought of how much money she'd spent already.

“Ouch, they're like what? Eighty bucks a pair?”

“Yup.”

“Yeah well, I had to get Levi a new helmet after that little dickhead from the tournament last month crashed into the side of him. That boy was more upset about the stickers he lost than the bruises he got,” I shook my head with a smile on my lips. Kat did the same.

“That's a tough kid you've got there.”

I sighed.

“Yeah I know. Despite never having met him, he's so much like his dad. It's a little concerning actually,” I laughed nervously, instantly regretting bringing up Levi’s father in front of Kat. I glanced up at her, taking a sip of my coffee in an attempt to hide behind the mug. The wiggling of her eyebrows being an indicator of her impending wrath.

“That man is the reason why you’re never satisfied with your dates. He set that bar waaaay too high.”

I scoffed. “He did not. We were young and he just swept me off my feet a bit, that’s all; with that ‘give ‘em Hell’ attitude and handsome face. Plus he had a great car.”

“Last time you said his face was ‘gorgeous’,” Kat cupped her face and fluttered her eyelashes, puckering her lips. I threw a sugar packet at her which she batted right back at me.

There was a moment of quiet as we both looked out the window again, my mind unable to stop itself from racing through old memories.

“Do you think he’ll ever come calling?” Kat asked, some sincerity to her tone. I sighed and slumped back further on the couch.

“I highly doubt it. He doesn’t even know that Levi exists. I tried calling him a few years back but some guy John W. had that number instead. I gave up after that. Plus, he had this kinda dangerous job, and normally if he showed up it was because something was going to go down,” I paused, looking into the dark liquid in my cup, “It’s probably a good thing that he hasn’t just shown up.”

“You say that, but you still have that photo you took together on your vanity.”

I shot her a look, pursing my lips and pinching my brows as she laughed, knowing she'd stumped me there. I quickly downed my coffee and checked my watch before standing and grabbing my bag.

“Come on, let's stop interrogating me and go pick up the boys before all Hell breaks loose at the track.”

“Mom it wasn't my fault, I swear.”

I slammed the car door closed and turned to the boy who stood close enough to be my shadow.

I turned around to face him with a stern expression, “so you did do it? After I called that boys mom a liar? LEVI.”

Levi, my son, looked close to tears, his bottom lip trembling.

“Mom, I'm so sorry! I'll never do it again!”

I narrowed my eyes at him before sighing, already exasperated, throwing the car keys into my bag.

“Did you at least stick to the golden rule?”

His answer was a vigorous nod, the tremble in his lip disappearing.

“‘Never throw the first punch; throw the second and finish the fight,’” he recited the words like a prayer.

“And…?”

“‘Always claim self defence.’”

I smiled and ruffled his soft brown hair.

“Good boy. What started the fight anyway?” I asked, guiding him to walk through the parking lot towards that new dessert parlour.

“He said I was weird for not having a dad.”

I looked down at him, eyes softening and I lifted a hand to rub his shoulder. It wasn't the first time he'd had this argument, and it likely won't be the last. Kids can be assholes. “And then he hit me when I said ‘at least my mom's boobs are real.’”

“Levi!” I stopped in my tracks and looked at him, mortified. I didn't even know where to start with that one. “Where-”

“Jamie from math class told me what ‘implants’ were… and he said that Brad's mom had them.”

He looked up at me innocently, and I knew then that he didn't fully grasp what he'd said to Brad - the kid he'd just punched between the eyes. I sighed for the umpteenth time and started walking again.

“Whatever, just… don't say that to anyone again, ok? You're gonna make me look like a terrible parent.”

“Ok mo- whoa! Look at that car!” It was Levi's turn to stop dead in his tracks as he stood in awe of the sleek black car parked by the sidewalk.

A black Chevy Impala.

“Oh wow,” my words came out slightly breathless, my mind suddenly racing to him and the conversation I'd had with Kat earlier that afternoon.

“So cool!” Levi gushed, walking up close to it but not close enough to touch.

“Yes, very cool. Now let's go inside before they run out of ice cream,” I ushered him to the door, reflexively looking over my shoulder, not knowing if I even wanted to see who could possibly be in the area.

The bell jingled as we walked in and Levi ran up to the counter, pressing his forehead to the glass. My eyes scanned the menu and I was pleasantly surprised to see they served coffee.

“What do you fancy kiddo?” I ruffled his hair again and waited for him to decide, and it wasn't long before he'd made up his mind. After ordering, we headed towards a small table-for-two at the edge of the room, and as Levi slumped down in his chair something familiar caught my attention.

A voice.

My heart quickly became erratic in my chest and my palms grew sweaty. I looked in the direction the voice had come from and was met with a slap in the face from memory lane.

There he was; the same wicked grin and mischievous eyes that had burned themselves into my memory. He dressed the same as he did nine years ago - right down to the necklace and leather jacket. He was engrossed in a conversation with another man, who looked slightly younger than himself, all whilst digging into a stack of waffles.

“Mom?”

The sound of Levi's voice snapped me out of the stunned fog I was caught up in and I quickly sat down, trying my best to focus on my son and not the man who was sitting only a few feet behind him. Levi looked like he was about to ask another question when a giant chocolate sundae and a coffee appeared at the table. I heard the waitress challenge Levi to finish the whole thing, but it was like I was listening to the world through water. My mind wouldn't stop racing. He's here. Do I talk to him? Will he remember me? Do I tell him about Levi? I hurriedly pulled my phone from my bag and sent her a hasty message before turning back to the boy in front of me, convincing a smile to appear on my lips.

“If you have room in that black-hole stomach of yours then you definitely could've finished your veggies earlier at dinner.”

He smirked slightly, like he always did when he knew he was getting away with murder, and it almost took my breath away. I saw the same smirk grace the lips of the man in the booth behind him. The mans gaze shifted to the side and when his eyes met mine - the same vibrant twists of green and gold that I have tattooed on my memory - I sucked in a sharp breath, my heart leaping in my chest as I tore my eyes away. I clutched my coffee cup, staring intently at the dark swirling liquid, praying to anyone or anything that I'd find the answers to my troubles in the bottom of this mug. The prickling on my skin was unshakable, like his eyes were on me and I was trapped under his intense observation, unable to breath. Minutes felt like hours, and eventually he and his companion stood before heading to the door. The moment they were gone with the bell signalling their departure, the air gushed from my lungs as I dropped my head into my hands, earning myself a confused look from my son. I offered him a reassuring smile which he accepted before returning to shovelling ice-cream into his face.

Just when I thought I was safe, I looked up and locked eyes with him. Our eyes locked through the window just as he opened the car door, leaning on it. It was like time froze, and for a few moments, despite my earlier urgency to not make eye contact, I was now unable to look away. My breath caught in my throat as a smirk pulled at his lips before he ducked down into the driver's seat, slamming the car door closed. I found myself chewing on my bottom lip as he tore out of the parking lol, that familiar rumble of the engine practically rattling the windows and, despite the noise, it was a comforting sound.

Once they were out of sight and the impala could no longer be heard, I sighed, pushing my hair off my face and running my hands through my hair. As Levi polished off the last of his ice-cream, my phone buzzed on the table. Opening it and reading the message, a small wave of relief washed over me as Kat confirmed that Toby would be at his dad's for once so she could come over to drink wine and discuss very important topics. She hasn't got a clue what I need to vent about yet, but I feel like tonight is going to be a very long night.

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Next Chapter: Chapter 2

@suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx

[potatoplace]

Mastermind - Part 2

Dark!Feysand x Reader

Part 1 | Poly!ACOTAR x Reader Masterlist

Story Summary: Your friend of a few months, Feyre, invited you out for a celebratory drink over your new job, and of course her husband Rhys joins you. The night doesn't go quite as planned, and you end up back at their place with very few wits about you.

Warnings: non-con, abduction, being kept prisoner, smut, drug use (pot)

Words: ~5k

Author's Note: it's here! Feyre... you live in my head rent free so often... also this is just like a purely self indulgent fic at this point, I think it'll be a mini-series. Please read the warnings!

18+ only pls

🤍🩵🤍💜🤍

You woke up with a headache and a confusing ache between your legs.

Your bed was comfier than usual, and so, so warm. Almost like you had a heated blanket going. You mouth cracked open into a yawn, and you stretched your limbs as far as you could-

Which wasn't far.

Both your legs and arms bumped into something solid and warm, surrounding you on both sides.

Your eyes flew open, very, very confused when you saw your friend Feyre laying to your right, and her husband Rhys on your left and-

You're naked.

Completely bare between the two of them, with absolutely no memory of how you got there. Your face flushed with heat.

God, what have I done?

Your tried to wiggle your way out from between the two of them, but one of Rhys's arms merely locked tighter around you, pulling you further against him.

He's naked. You could feel him hardening against you already as he stirred slightly, burying his face in your hair.

You struggled slightly, trying to move away from him, he's your friend's husband for crying out loud.

"What's wrong, sweetness?" Feyre's sleep heavy voice asked from your right. Her hand moved up your thigh and over your stomach, coming to rest between your breasts.

You pushed her hand off of you. "I'm so confused right now, Fey, why are Rhys and I naked? I should go," you said, moving to sit up, but Feyre's hand shot out to keep you down, and between her and Rhys you were powerless to move.

"You're never going to leave us again, darling," Feyre said, wiggling closer to you and pressing her body against yours- she was naked as well.

What the fuck did I do last night?

"Feyre, let me up," you demanded, doing your best to get her hand off of you, but in your struggle you must have woken Rhys up.

"Is there a problem, ladies?" His sultry voice sent shivers down your spine. Your always found it attractive, but now? Trapped between him and your best friend? You wanted nothing more than to bolt out of their apartment and back to yours and never come back out.

"Rhysie, she's trying to leave," Feyre said poutily, hand rubbing circles onto your stomach.

"And why would our sweet little kitten want to leave, hmm?" He asked, lips finding your neck and pressing soft kisses along the expanse of it. "You were so happy last night, sweet thing, what changed?"

You shook your head- this was wrong, all of this was wrong. And Rhys's lips had brought to your attention something wrapped around your neck snugly.

"This isn't right, I can't even remember what happened last night," you said, tears leaking from your eyes now, and you brought a hand up to your throat, fingering the fabric on your neck. Is it leather? Is it-

"You put a collar on me?" You asked, disbelief in your voice as your fingers attempted to tear the item from your body.

"I figured you might freak out, sweetness," Feyre tutted from beside you, a hand raising your grasp both of yours. "You're ours now, Y/N, you just need a little help realizing that. That's what the cute little collar is for, just to keep you from running away like the silly little kitten I think you might be." Feyre's voice was soft but condescending as she explained it to you, but you were still so lost.

"I don't understand, Fey," you cried, attempting to pull your body out of their embraces. "We're friends, you're married. This isn't okay."

Rhys shushed you, running his hands over your hair. "We might be married, but you're the secret missing piece we've been looking for, kitten. From the moment Feyre introduced me to you, I knew what she meant when she said she had to have you. Neither of us can resist how absolutely sweet and lovely you are." You went to open your mouth to protest, but Feyre's mouth covered yours in a heated kiss. "You'll realize just how much you can't resist us either, soon," Rhys added when he felt you involuntarily relax into Feyre's dominating hold over you.

"As for the not remembering last night..." Feyre started when she finally pulled away from claiming your mouth. "I think I know the perfect way to fix that," she said with a smirk, already moving down below the blankets and between your thighs.

"Feyre stop," you pleaded. "I don't want this, I want to go home," you cried, fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Really?" Feyre asked with a smirk, dragging a finger through your folds and collecting the wetness that had pooled there. "Because this sweet little pussy says otherwise."

Tears fell from your eyes faster, shame welling within you as Feyre sucked her finger clean, closing her eyes as she did so. Feyre lowered her mouth to your sex in the next moment, not wasting any time in working you up to your breaking point.

You were still so sensitive from whatever they had done to you last night, and with Feyre’s tongue working your clit like magic you could hardly keep yourself still, even as Rhys pinned down your torso. One of his hands was fondling your breast and keeping you in the bed while the other ran through your hair and kept your face tilted towards Feyre.

You could see her face well again, now that the blanket had slid further down the bed while you twitched and writhed in their hold and against the pleasure Feyre was giving you. Her eyes were locked on your face, taking in every detail as you got closer and closer to the brink with every delicious swipe of her tongue.

To you it was wrong, all wrong. You didn’t want to be reacting, to even be warming their bed at all, yet you were trapped here as the couple worked you into your first orgasm of the morning against your will.

The strangled moan that left your throat was enough to have Feyre smirking up at you from between your thighs.

“See? You love us, and what we can give you. And we love you, Y/N.”

“No you don’t, Feyre, this isn’t love,” you cried softly, too tired and ashamed to put up much of fight anymore.

“It is, darling. We love you,” Rhys reiterated, peppering your neck and face with kisses as if to prove his point. “Now, will you let us feed you? I imagine you’re hungry after all the work we did last night,” he said with a dirty grin, two fingers pinching your right nipple.

Feyre began to move back up the bed and you took the opportunity to roll to your right into the spot that she had occupied while the three of you slept. Feyre sighed.

“Rhys, you can go take a shower and then start breakfast, okay? I’ll get this one into the shower after a little more… persuasion,” Feyre said in a disappointed tone.

Rhys chuckled, but got up from the bed anyway and walked into the bathroom. “Tell me pancakes or waffles after I come back out, darling.”

Feyre’s hands were pulling your back against her front snugly, allowing no room for you to escape the soft press of her body. Once you’d calmed a bit, she let one of her hands snake down between your thighs, gathering a bit of wetness from your center and then rubbing quick circles on your clit.

So sensitive. Her deft fingers brought you to completion twice in the time it took Rhys to finish showering and enter the room for his clothing.

You were a whimpering mess by the time he rounded to the side of the bed you were facing, leaning into Feyre’s embrace as she forced you closer and closer to a third orgasm in such rapid succession.

“I see, you’re just more comfortable with Feyre, hmm?” Rhys asked as he pulled your lower lip between his thumb and forefinger. “I guess I’ll just have to spend every waking second of the next week getting you used to me,” Rhys said with a smile before heading to leave the room.

“Pancakes,” Feyre told him, right as her fingers brought you to your fourth orgasm of the morning.

“Got it, darling. Make sure to actually get her in the shower, okay?”

Feyre’s merely lowered her lips to the left side of your neck, sucking a pair of dark, claiming marks over the spaces that Rhys had left unmarked.

Your breathy, contented sigh shocked you so thoroughly you jerked from Feyre’s hold finally and landed on the carpeting.

“Oh, sweetness, still afraid of liking us?” Feyre asked amusedly, bringing herself to the edge of the bed. “Don’t worry, you’ll get over that in a couple of days, I think. Unless you decide to be a brat and fight your fate which, I might add, is useless. Rhys and I love you, Y/N.”

You shook your head at her words. “This is wrong, Feyre, you know it’s wrong. You can’t just keep me here,” you said indignantly, getting up from the floor on shaky legs and attempting to cover yourself with your arms.

“Why not?”

You scoffed. “Because, Feyre, I am a human being and not a pet. I have a life and people that care about me, you can’t just abduct me and get away with it!”

“People that care about you? You have me, Y/N. Your family is mostly dead and the ones that are alive, you don’t talk to! And you even told me that I’m the first friend you made in Velaris, you belong with me. You have belonged to me ever since I first saw you in that coffee shop.”

“What about my job? I have a job, Feyre, they will be worried when I don’t actually start in a few days,” you told her desperately, hoping for any shred of the kindness you’d thought your friend had possessed before today to shine through.

“At the marketing firm? Rhys owns it, sweetie, his cousin Mor manages it. She already knows that you won’t be starting, you have a much better life set up for you now.”

You stared at her in shock. Had everything about your life recently been one big set up?

"What did you do Feyre?" You asked her, despair lacing your tone. If she was telling the truth, then there was no way out of this for you. And-

Oh my god. Your apartment here. Feyre had recommended it.

"I didn't do anything, Y/N. I suggested the job at the marketing firm because you were working yourself to the bone at that coffee shop, dear. I couldn't stand to see you suffer," Feyre explained, prowling across the room to stand in front of you. You were backed against the corner of the room now, with nowhere to go. "And I suggested the apartment here because we have good security, and I've seen the way your regulars would look at you, like they were just waiting to snatch you when the opportunity presented itself." One of Feyre's hands comes up to cup your face, following you as you turned away, still finding its mark. She turned your face back to look at her, and her eyes held such a fiercely protective look, you almost couldn't get your next words out.

"How are you any better than them?" You asked quietly, instantly taking note of how her eyes darkened with anger. "You snatched me away, Feyre, not any of those men. So how are you-"

Feyre surged forward, cutting your words off by slotting her mouth over yours. The kiss was harsh, claiming as she pulled your naked body against hers even as you struggled and tried to pull away.

"I love you, Y/N. And I would never, ever hurt you..." Feyre trailed off as her fingers played with your hair once you'd stopped fighting her. You opened your mouth to refute that claim, but she started speaking before you could. "I am not hurting you, sweetness. You simply don't know what is best for you right now, and sometimes we just need to be shown the right path." You went to argue again- "Now, if you don't shower with me, you won't be given any clothes to wear for the next week," Feyre said with finality.

Fight her, continue to feel disgusting in the off chance that she doesn't still force you to shower, and have no clothes for a whole seven days, or don't fight her, deal with it this once, and have clothes.

You didn't fight as Feyre steered you by the shoulders into their grand bathroom, stopping by the large triple sink counter. She carefully removed the collar from your neck with some type of key, then led you straight into the massive shower that had four huge, separate shower heads- one on each of the three walls, and one overhead.

You turned around right as Feyre started the shower, turning on just the three wall spouts. Water hit you from three sides, and Feyre came at you from the remaining one.

"Do you remember anything from last night?" Feyre asked softly as she ran her hands over your body, passing over your nipples far more times than you felt was necessary. You shook your head. All that you could vaguely remember was getting to the bar Feyre had suggested. “That’s too bad, sweetness. You were very eager last night,” she said with a smile, and your cheeks flushed. “Don’t worry, at some point you’ll be able to admit to yourself how much you want us. For now we’ll just keep reminding you how much we want you.”

Feyre gently tipped your head back to wet your hair, taking her time to get it soaked in the warm spray. Her nails scratched lightly along your scalp, and you nearly sighed at the soft gesture.

This is not the same friend you’ve known all these months, you reminded yourself.

Before today, you would have never guessed you would be taking a shower with Feyre. A small part of you had maybe dreamed about it, but never would you have thought it would become a reality. Especially with the added element of you being forced.

Still, you couldn’t help but relax into Feyre’s gentle grasp and she shampooed your hair, then rinsed the lather from it, being careful to not get any suds in your eyes. The shampoo smelled just like the one you used before all of this happened. Strange. When Feyre began putting a thick conditioner in your hair, you realized it.

They don’t just smell like the products you use at home, they are the products you use at home.

Your accusatory glare hit Feyre once she was done rubbing the conditioner in.

“What?” Feyre asked innocently as she wet her own hair.

“Why do you know what products I use?”

Feyre smiled. “I pay attention, dear. I wanted to make the transition as comfortable as possible for you, so I got everything I could think of that you use regularly. Now, will you help me wash my hair?”

You didn’t move.

“Pleaaase, Y/N?” Feyre asked again, a pouty look on her face now, one that you were rarely able to resist.

“Fine. Which bottles?” You conceded, grabbing the shampoo bottle she pointed to and squeezing some out into the palm of your hand. You lathered it up, then set to working it through Feyre’s thick, golden brown hair. When you rinsed her hair, you wanted to let soap run into her eyes, but couldn’t let yourself for some reason. You repeated the process of working the conditioner through Feyre’s hair, and once you were done she turned around to fade you again.

“Time to rinse yours, cutie,” Feyre said, already tipping your head back into the water to rid your hair of conditioner. Again, her nails scraped along your scalp gently, just enough to get your body to relax more. When she finished, she grabbed a cloth and loaded it with body wash, one that smelled of lilacs and pears- very Feyre. Feyre soaped up your body slowly, lingering in the sensitive areas as long as she could before you started to fight her hold again. She helped you rinse off, then extended the cloth to you. “Do me?”

You shook your head. No. “I already washed your hair, Feyre, just let me get out please.”

Feyre sighed, and started washing her body. “You can’t get out yet, you still need to wash your face. I’d suggest it after last night,” Feyre said with a wink, and your stomach churned.

You don’t really want to know what that comment was about. But you wash and exfoliate your face nonetheless, using the identical products to those you had before, finishing just as Feyre was done washing her own face.

She turned the water off, and grabbed two fluffy towels off of the rack for the both of you. She wrapped one around herself, then patted you dry, taking her time to get every inch of skin and dry your hair as much as she could before she dried herself off.

Feyre went to the sink closest to the shower, and you spotted all of your skincare and hair care products lined up attractively behind the middle sink. Feyre was already doing her routine as you examined the bottles and jars, picking out what you wanted to use.

At least they’re giving you something normal.

Once the two of you had finished, Feyre locked the collar back onto your neck, then pulled you back into their bedroom, the massive bed lurking in your vision no matter where you turned. Feyre grabbed two sets of clothing, pulling on her own outfit. First was a lacy black set of lingerie that looked flawless on her, then a pair of black leggings, a rich brown sweater, and slippers.

She then forced you to let her dress you, slipping a pair of blush pink panties up your legs to settle snugly on your hips, and a matching colored bralette over your breasts, which she had for once refrained from squeezing. Your arms were lifted above your head to let a soft pink, long sleeved peasant dress fall over your body, and you were instructed to sit to allow Feyre to put white knee high socks onto your legs and slip your feet into cute pink slipper booties. You caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as Feyre dragged you out of the bedroom. You look cute, if you had to describe the outfit. It’s similar enough to the style you wear on your off time, though everything seems to be made of higher quality materials than what you were able to afford.

The door to the bedroom led to a short hallway, which Feyre led you to the open end of, coming out in the living room. The two of you walked to dining table, near the far end of the open concept room. There was already a good amount of food on the table, and Rhys was just walking away from the stove with a large plate of pancakes in hand, a large smile spreading across his face when he spotted the both of you.

“And I was just thinking I might have to come and get you girls,” he said with a grin. “Come and sit down, breakfast is ready.”

Rhys pulled out a chair for you, pushing you in once you’d sat down and repeated the gesture with Feyre, who was sitting to your left. Rhys then took the seat to your right at the head of the table and began piling food onto your plate. A couple of sausages, pieces of bacon, chunks of cut up melon, and of course pancakes.

You didn’t think you could eat.

If you had woken up in a separate bed this morning, all of this would feel normal enough. Feyre and Rhys had let you stay over once before, and the following morning had a breakfast similar to this.

But everything had changed, you weren’t here because your friends were kind and invited you, you were here because they had trapped you here. You had a collar wrapped around your neck, that alone would be reason enough for you to want to leave.

“Eat up, darling,” Rhys said as he moved on to plating his own food.

You stayed still, staring down at the food that had your stomach turning.

Feyre’s elbow nudged you gently, and you instinctively looked to your left.

“Go ahead and eat, Y/N,” Feyre said gently. When you still didn’t move, she sighed. “Not eating won’t do anything for you, sweetness. Have just one of everything, please,” she begged, using her soft eyes that were so hard to resist.

So, even with your stomach protesting, you lifted a bite of pancake to your mouth, chewing and swallowing but tasting nothing. Maybe if you play along for a little bit, they’ll let their guard down and you can escape.

Feyre and Rhys chatted about their jobs as the three of you ate- Feyre about her studio, and Rhys about the various businesses under the Night Corporation umbrella. You choked down each bite of food, doing your best to keep attention off of you.

A phone ringing cut through their chatter, and Feyre sighed as she picked it up.

“What?” She asked, annoyance clear in her tone. “Can’t you deal with it? I have something important today,” Feyre said, shooting a smile your way. The person on the other end replied with something that made Feyre groan. “Fine, I’ll be there in a half hour.”

Feyre dropped her phone onto the table and ran her hands over her eyes. “Well, I have to go into the studio, apparently the art class has taken a drastic turn that only I can fix,” Feyre whined. “Will you be okay here with just Rhys, sweetness?”

You raised a brow at her. “As though I have a choice?”

Rhys chuckled at your words. “That’s true, Fey, she’s stuck with me for the day. I’ll take good care of her, don’t worry.” Dread pooled in your stomach at his words. You don’t want to know what type of ‘care’ he has in mind.

Feyre was still staring at you, like she wanted to say something, then looked away when she stood up. “I shouldn’t be gone more than an hour, but I’ll text you to let you know if there’s anything that will hold me up,” she remarked as she placed a kiss on Rhys’s cheek, and one on yours as well. “Love you guys!” Feyre said as she was walking out of the door, purse in hand.

“Love you darling!”

In the silence that followed the door slamming shut, the dread in your stomach grew.

“So, would you like a little tour?” Rhys asked, already stacking your breakfast plates together.

You stared at him. “A tour?”

Rhys smiled. “Yes, darling, a tour. You need to know your way around now that you’re living here. And don’t say no, this is mandatory,” he added when you shook your head.

He placed the dishes in the sink before smoking back to the table, pull in out your chair and extending a hand to help you stand. You ignore it, standing on your own, which made Rhys sigh.

“Right this way, darling,” Rhys said, pulling you by the hand back towards the hallway containing their bedroom. You dug your feet into the ground, unwilling to enter the bedroom with him. Rhys stopped walking and turned to face you. “What’s the problem, doll?”

“I am not going to take this sham of a ‘tour’ if it just means that you’re going to rape me.”

Rhys’s eyes softened at your words, and he pulled you into a hug even as your tried to resist his hold. “Oh, darling. You won’t have to worry about that. I won’t fuck you until you are begging for my cock.”

“Like that will ever happen,” you spat, finally wrenching yourself free of his grasp.

“Oh, it will,” Rhys said assuredly, smirking down at you. “Now, will you let me give you the tour?”

You sighed, but did feel mildly better knowing that he supposedly wouldn’t be forcing himself on you. “Fine."

He continued to lead you back down the hallway their their bedroom resided, but stopped at the doorway opposite it. He swung it open, and gestured for you to walk inside. When you did, your jaw dropped.

It’s as though they had gone into your mind and plucked your perfect bedroom out of it just to recreate it here. The walls were in a soft, dusty pink color with a pale cream ceiling. There was fluffy pink carpet on the floor, looking so soft and squishy you wanted to be barefoot on it. At the far end of the room was a large canopy bed, decorated in hues of pink and purple, with a mound of pillows against the wall. There was a dresser and large closet off to the left, and on the right there was a small sitting area gathered around a table with a tv on it, your favorite consoles already lined up and plugged in, along with stacks and stacks of your favorite games. There was even a cute pink mini fridge and little snack shelf, all filled with your favorites.

“Do you like it?” Rhys asked hesitantly from his place in the doorway.

“Do I-?” You stopped to laugh. “Do I like it? It’s like the two of your read my mind. How?”

Rhys’s cheeks colored slightly as he met your eyes. “Feyre had the idea to look through your Pinterest, and you had a board dedicated to your dream room, so she worked tirelessly to get this ready for you.”

The thought and effort would have been sweet- were they not keeping you here against your will.

You just sighed and shook your head. “Is there more to the tour?”

Rhys nodded and grabbed you by the hand once more. He showed you around to the various guest rooms, the guest bathroom, then to Feyre’s home studio and his office, and finally you were back to the living room. The two of you were stood in front of the couches, looking out at their pool and massive patio.

“Do you want to play a game together?” Rhys asked, gesturing to the double TV and console set up in front of you. “We can play whatever you want, you can even play alone,” he offered.

Strangely, this request put you at ease even more than him saying he wouldn’t fuck you. Almost like it confirmed that the Rhys you had known was still in there, just… different. Darker.

“I don’t know…”

“We could smoke a joint,” Rhys said in a sing-songy voice, having grabbed one out of a box on the coffee table. “Or two. Or three. Just something to help you get your mind of things, maybe?”

The offer was tempting. You could pretend like you were just hanging out at your friends’ house and playing a video game with him.

“Sure, why not?”

The feeling of smoke filling your lungs calmed you down, settling you into a sleepy state where you weren’t thinking about the situation and how fucked up it is, just the passing flow of the river of your thoughts. You and Rhys shared two joints together on the patio, passing it between puffs.

“You know that Feyre cares about you, right?” Rhys asked as he took the second lit joint from you. You exhaled the smoke from your mouth, watching as it was whipped away by the wind.

“I don’t know that I would call this,” you gestured around you and at the collar, “caring about me.”

Rhys sighed. “But it is, Y/N. I know we went about it in a twisted way, but Feyre and I truly want you to be happy and safe. And before you ask, no, I won’t let you go. Just give us some time, you’ll come see how nice your life can be here and how much we care about you.”

You took the joint back from him with a pout, annoyed with him now. Sure, they care about me enough to steal me away and lock me up, but not enough to let me make the choice myself.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

Rhys laughed sadly. “No, you don’t. But giving us a chance will make this much more enjoyable for you.”

You took another long drag before passing the joint back to Rhys’s waiting fingers.

“Will you… would you convince Feyre to not… touch me until I’m begging?” You asked hopefully, knowing that that day would never come now.

Rhys eyed you carefully. “I can talk to her about that, if it would make you feel more at ease around us darling."

A weight was lifted off your chest at his confirmation that he would wrangle Feyre in. He let you take the last drag before putting the joint out, and followed you back into the living room.

“Do you have Minecraft?” You asked hopefully, wanting to dick around and maybe build a cute house.

“Of course, darling,” Rhys said, booting up the TVs and consoles, passing a pink controller to you.

Within a couple of minutes, the two of you were as focused on the blocky game as you could be, your minds covered in a weed soaked haze.

Taglist: @daughterofthemoons-stuff (let me know if you want to stay on the taglist for the mini series!)

[scuttling]

Flicker in the Dark - Jacob Black/Reader

Fandom: Twilight Saga Pairings: Jacob Black/Female Reader Word Count: 12,598 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Pining, Unprotected sex, Slightly aged up (Jacob is 20), Fix it fic Summary: My take on New Moon, if all of the characters were a bit more mature and Jacob got his girl. A/N: This is a third-person story that pairs Jacob with a girl who isn't Bella but who fills her role in the story; Bella doesn't exist in this universe because I find she's not as interesting to write as an original character, for me personally. The character has no name and no physical description, so treat her as an OC or a "reader," your choice there. :)

Keep reading below or link to AO3!

Bringing the idea of fixing the bikes to Jacob was the best thing she’s ever done: the best, and one of the dumbest, by far. 

They both have adult obligations now—she has class, and a part-time job, which are thankfully both online, and Jake works full time—so when the stars align and they’re free at the same time, they spend every moment in his garage like a couple of bored kids. They listen to music on his dad’s old radio, eat pizza and tacos standing up much more often than they should; Jacob isn’t twenty-one just yet, but they’re on the rez, so they sip beers sometimes, especially on the rare warm days where the sun shines into the garage and sweat prickles at their hairlines. 

He’s taller at twenty than he was when he was younger, broader and more filled out, like he’d said back on her birthday; she notices, sometimes, things like the tightness of his t-shirts stretched across his back, the way his jeans fit just, extraordinarily well. Those kinds of things you can’t help but notice, even if you’re emotionally, physically, and mentally unavailable, the way she is. 

He pokes fun at her age—forever a sore spot, especially when Edward is and will be twenty-two forever—but she catches him noticing her, too, sometimes, so she’s not a total embarrassment at least.

It doesn’t happen right away, like magic or anything, but hanging out in his garage does make her feel better; he makes her feel better, if she’s being honest with herself. He quiets the chatter in her brain, the anxiety, the self-doubt, and she smiles more when she’s with him, laughs more, gets out of her own head. She’s happier when she’s with him, too, bikes or no bikes—though the roar of the restored motorcycle engine certainly doesn’t hurt—and he’s good for her, there’s no denying that.

She remembers her dad’s advice, even more meaningful now that she’s moved out of his house and living on her own—sometimes, you gotta learn to love what’s good for you—and she even thinks she could, some days. 

That’s easy enough to say to herself, but so, so much harder in practice. She can tell Jacob is… interested, when they go to the movies, with the way he lays his hand on the armrest, palm up, in case she wants to hold it. Part of her wants to, really wants to; part just thinks about Edward and she clams up, can’t do it. She feels guilty, like she’s doing something wrong, even though he left her and not the other way around. 

She still loves him, will always love him, but Edward made his choice; she just wishes she felt free enough to make her own.

She feels guilty when they ride, too, because the one thing he’d asked of her was not to be reckless, and now she goes out of her way to find a rush wherever she can. Anything legal, be it motorcycles, rock climbing, running, skydiving, really, really big roller coasters—you name it, she’s done it, and though none of it ever worked as well as she’d hoped it would, she never stops trying. 

She knows better than to give herself over to things like drugs or binge drinking or meaningless one-night stands, but aside from that the limits to what she will try are almost non-existent. She loves the thrill of it all, loves feeling brave, feeling strong; In the end, she may wind up with a few cuts and bruises, but as long as she’s hurting no one but herself, she doesn’t feel too bad.

When she hurts Jacob, she feels awful, terrible, and she does hurt him—he’s so hurt for a while that he doesn’t want to see her, doesn’t even return her calls. She feels weak for the first time in a long time, like if she’d just been able to be what he wanted, to hold his hand, to kiss him, to get over herself, they both would have been happier. Now she just feels sad, and selfish, hurting the one person who has always been there for her, who’s always eased her pain.

She wants to respect his space, can’t bear the thought of hurting him more than she already has, but her anxiety gets the better of her; no amount of kickboxing or rock climbing has been able to take her mind off of him since that night at the movies, when he left in such a hurry. Even Edward has shifted to the back of her mind, though she has no idea when exactly that happened.

So she goes to him. Against his wishes. In the pouring rain. 

She’s so, so stupid.

He’s so, so shredded, even more so than usual; it’s the first thing she notices only because he’s soaking wet and shirtless and that makes it pretty obvious. The second thing she notices is his hair, no longer long and pulled back with a cord of leather, but cropped short, though inky black as always. The third thing she notices is the tattoo, a large, tribal design on his shoulder that looks well-healed even though she saw him less than a week ago.

She catalogs all of that, and then she remembers he’s avoiding her and that she’s here to ask for forgiveness (she’s willing to beg, but it’s sort of a last resort.)

She calls his name, but he doesn’t turn around at first, not until she’s right in front of him, fists balled angrily at her sides.  

“Jacob, I’m sorry… I’m sorry about the movie. Can we talk about it?” He huffs an unamused laugh, takes half a step closer; that kind of thing used to be playful, but now it seems almost menacing, between the muscles and the tattoo and the deepening frown on his face. 

“This isn’t about that. You–you need to leave. Now.” The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument… but then again, that’s never stopped her before. She steps closer too, more of a challenge than anything.

“Well if it’s not about that, what is it? What happened?” He turns away as if to leave and she reaches for him, fingers latching onto his wrist. She knows right away that when she tugs, and he turns, it’s because he let it happen; there’s no way anyone could force him to do anything now, not with how big he is, how strong, how solid beneath her hand. “Is it Sam? Did he get to you too?” 

“I was wrong about Sam. He’s helping me through it—just like he helped the others,” he says, but it sounds odd to her ears. If something was wrong, if he’d needed help, he would have come to her… right? “I can’t do this right now—you have to go. Please go.” 

Before, he was stern, but this time he’s pleading for her to leave, and that’s just not Jacob—they’d hash it out before he cut her off without so much as a word, instead of ghosting her and making his father lie for him and keeping secrets with Sam Uley.

“Jake,” she pleads too, but instead of tightening her grip on his wrist she brings her hand up to the nape of his neck, to brush through the short hair that lays there, drenched in rainwater. “Please don’t do this to me.” 

He closes his eyes like it pains him, and it very well might; she knows the similarities to the night Edward left are becoming almost too much for her to bear. 

Maybe that’s why she came here, after all, because she could, because at least she still knew where she could find him. Because even if he didn’t want to talk to her, at least she’d know he was okay. 

“I’m not doing this to you, I’m doing it for you. I’m not who you thought I was, I’m not good for you. You can’t be around me anymore.” 

Fuck that, she thinks immediately, because she is so absolutely tired of people telling her what she can and can’t do, what she’s strong enough for, what’s safe. 

She doesn’t want safe. All she wants is Jacob. 

“I decide what’s good for me; I decide,” she says, voice raised and rough, jabbing a finger in his direction, and he grabs both of her forearms and holds them between them. He looks like he wants to shake her, he’s so frustrated, but his grip isn’t tight. “You think you’re going to hurt me, or something? Because look at us, Jake.” Her gaze moves to his hands on her, holding her still but doing it gently, carefully. “It’s okay. You won’t hurt me, I know it.” 

He drops her arms like she’s burned him, like he didn’t even realize he was holding them, and takes two steps back, away from her.

“You’re right, I won’t—because you can’t ever come here again.” 

He turns and runs to Sam and the other guys, leaving her standing in the rain, soaked and alone, her stomach in knots. The chatter is back, the self-doubt, louder than ever now; if they could both do this, both leave her so easily, would she ever be enough for anyone?

She’s not sitting around her house moping about this, not again. She did that with Edward and it got her absolutely nowhere, so this time she resolves to just skip to the front of the line. She packs a bag for the trail and goes hiking, plans to take a long path deep into the woods, away from the bear attacks or whatever’s going on out there. Her dad would have her head if she walked headfirst into danger, and she knows better, anyway, isn’t going to actually risk her life just to get Rocky Mountain high. 

She hadn’t planned on risking her life, anyway, but how was she to know the formerly peaceful Laurent was back in Forks, red eyes and all, and that he was working with Victoria? That wasn’t on her supernatural drama bingo card, that’s for damn sure. 

She listens to him do the villain rambling for a moment, but irritation wins out over fear and she loses her temper, slips up and says that Edward is gone and he’s not coming back, and if he wants to kill her, well no one’s stopping him! 

He looks amused by her outburst, but the smile melts off of his face when an enormous black wolf steps out of the trees, followed by several others of all shades, shapes, sizes. She doesn’t get a chance to count them, just runs like hell in the other direction, but when she risks a look back they are going after Laurent with a precision she wouldn’t expect from wild animals just looking for dinner. 

She tells no one about the wolves—who would believe her anyway?—just runs back to her truck until she’s breathless, goes home and takes a steaming hot shower to rinse away the cold clamminess of his touch. She makes a cup of tea and changes into a t-shirt, a pair of shorts, then parks herself on the couch with her laptop for the rest of the night. 

Until the knock at the door that comes around 1 AM. 

It’s Jacob, and she’s so happy to see him that she forgets all about her day up until that point and wraps her arms around him, hugs him where he stands in the doorway. He hugs back, thank god, his embrace tight and warm and comforting, and then she ushers him in, offers to make more tea while they talk. 

“About the other day,” she begins, filling the electric kettle with water and plugging it in, but he cuts her off, panicked. 

“I wish I could explain,” he says, and he’s almost got those puppy dog eyes that always get him his way; he doesn’t even do it on purpose, just looks like that, and it’s incredibly hard to resist. “But I literally can’t.” 

“No, I know, I… I mean, I think I know.” She has a box of tea in her hand and she’s gesturing a bit wildly with it, so she sets it on the counter, walks closer to him, so there’s about a foot of space between them. “First rule of fight club is you can’t talk about fight club—wait, it’s not an actual fight club, right? Because you’d dominate.” 

He laughs, a real one, with his head thrown back, and she all but grins. There he is. Her Jacob. 

“No, it’s not a fight club, but you’re right. I can’t talk about it, I can’t tell you anything.” His tone of voice hurts her, because it’s clear this is something he wants, needs to share; she moves closer, eyes on his.

“And what if I guess? Is that against the rules?” He shakes his head fervently, rests his palm on the counter beside him.

“No, no—in fact, that’s exactly what I need you to do. Sam can’t stop you, and I know you, you’re smart, won’t stop until you figure it out.”  He reaches out with his other hand, tentatively, and links their fingers together like he did at the movies; when he brings their hands up to his chest, this time, she doesn’t pull away. “It would be so much easier if you knew.”

His face is so soft but so serious, his brow furrowed, and she squeezes his hand.

“I’m going to feel really silly if I’m wrong, but I don’t think I am. I’ve been working on it all night.” With her free hand, she pulls her phone out of her pocket, shows him the same screen she has up on her laptop in the other room. It’s a list of all the facts she has, her own speculation, and finally, in size 42 font, one very important eight-letter word. “You said before that Sam was collecting disciples—a pack of them, Jacob, right?” 

“Yes. Fuck,” he breathes, and though she’s heard him say it in the garage many times, this one is special because it means she’s right. He slides down to a seat on the tile floor, looks so relieved it makes her chest feel tight, and she kneels in front of him, hands on his bare shoulders. 

“You’re a werewolf, Jake, just like the legend—your tribe is descended from wolves. Tell me I’m wrong.” 

He doesn’t say a word, and at first she’s afraid she is incorrect, but then he reaches out and pulls her close, crushes her to his body. He breathes hard into her hair, holds her tightly, and she can’t help it, she cries, hot tears leaving tracks down her cheeks.

He brings his hands there after a moment, wipes the tears away with his thumbs, then holds her face like she’s something precious, lips turning up into a half-smile.

“Thank you. I knew you could do it.” He tips forward, presses their foreheads together, moves his hands to her waist. “You don’t know how badly I wanted you to know.”

“Oh, Jake. I’m sorry—I should have caught on faster. It’s obvious, when you put everything together, when you… You know. When you’ve seen what I’ve seen.” He nods his head and swallows, presses his fingertips into her side. She shifts closer, or he does, maybe they both do, so their breath mixes between them, soft and warm.

“It’s okay, you’re here now. You’re here, it's okay,” he repeats, and she pushes fingers through his hair, softer now that it’s dry. 

“I’m here, and I don’t have to stay away.”

They don’t quite kiss, because she’s still nervous, maybe even more so now—they were so close to being separated, and now that he’s back in her life, in her house, she doesn’t want to risk breaking this delicate, fragile thing between them. His mouth just brushes over hers, more a swipe than a press of lips, and she turns her head so the rest of it catches her cheek instead. 

He sighs, but he’s not upset, and he lifts a hand to smooth through her hair before dropping it altogether. 

“I should go,” he says, but she can’t bear the thought of losing him again already. She stands when he does, takes his hand the way he did before. 

“Can you stay the night? Please?” She squeezes his fingers, tries her hand at her own version of those sad puppy eyes. “I understand if you can’t, but I’d feel… I want you to,” she’s clear to say, and eventually, he nods. 

She makes up a bed for him on the sofa, intends to head upstairs when he’s comfortable; she doesn’t know what stops her, but she stretches out on the other end of the couch instead and they put on a movie, something black and white, volume low. She couldn’t say for sure who’s the first to fall asleep.

She’s the first to wake up, so she takes a quick shower, does some work, brews some coffee. He’ll probably head out the moment his feet hit the floor, so she prepares herself for that—she just hopes that the rest of his pack knows he’s there, that they aren’t worried, or frantically searching the preserve for signs of him like she would be. 

She asks him that when he pads into the kitchen an hour later, eyes sleepy, bedhead evident, and he pours a cup of coffee and sits across from her at the table. 

“Nah, they knew I was coming,” he assures with a sip. “They know by now that if they can’t find me, I’m probably here with you.” That makes her smile, though she looks down into her mug and tries not to show it. He takes a few more quick gulps despite the temperature and sets down his empty cup with a smack of his lips. “Speaking of the pack, I think you should meet them. We gather at Emily’s—that’s Sam’s fiancee—sometimes, and they’ll be there today.”

“Will they be angry that I figured it out?” she asks, genuinely curious. She wants to meet them, wants to know more about the group of guys Jacob is now supernaturally entangled with, but she’s not so sure a house of angry werewolves is somewhere she’s ready to be so soon after her last brush with death. He breathes a laugh and shakes his head. 

“They won’t be angry. They’ll probably be irritated with me, because I couldn’t just let you go…” Their eyes meet, and she thinks of reaching out to touch his hand across the table, though she doesn’t in the end. “But as for you, they’ll probably just be impressed.”

The pack is both impressed by her and slightly irritated with Jacob, but stern glances and eye rolls quickly turn to laughter and playful shoving, as they pile into Emily’s small but cozy kitchen and make introductions around a batch of fresh muffins.

She gets official confirmation on things she’d only read about—like their ability to hear each other’s thoughts when shifted, the accelerated healing, their speed, their power—right from the wolves' mouths, and they learn from her too, everything she knows about vampires like Laurent and Victoria. She doesn’t talk much about the Cullens, mostly because their secrets are not hers to tell, but she can see Jacob’s brain working as she mentions Victoria’s vendetta, as she shows the group the pale, silvery bite mark on her arm. 

“If she’s here, she’s here for me,” she tells them, and Jake tenses, his jaw tight, veins visible, shoots Sam a look that conveys they have a lot to talk about when she’s not around. 

Later, she suggests to Jacob that he take a walk with her, because she can tell how all of those stories have put him on edge. Together they amble slowly toward the beach, close but not touching, and this time she does take his hand, leans in so their forearms brush. 

“It’ll be okay,” she murmurs, tilting her head to look up at him. “You guys are strong, fast. You took down Laurent—I have no doubts you’ll get her too.” 

“Before she hurts you?” he says, staring ahead, voice rough because he’s been mostly silent all day, listening closely to her and taking everything in. “Because if she does…” 

“She won’t. The others are watching her,” she says, hoping like hell that’s still true, “and even if she finds me… I trust you to protect me.” He stops there, on the wet sand, and she turns toward him so she can see his expression, to get a better idea of what’s on his mind. 

“If they come back, I’m not allowed to fight on their land—I’d be breaking the treaty,” he says with a pained look. She understands the words he’s not saying: if they come back, I wouldn’t be able to protect you in your own home.

“They’re not coming back,” she whispers, because she can’t say the words any louder than that, even though they’re true.  “He made his choice, and that’s—that’s okay.” 

“Is it?” Jacob asks, leaning in, and she gets it, gets why; she hasn’t exactly been positive about Edward’s departure, how his choice affected her, took his family away from her too, and now suddenly she’s okay with it?

It isn’t sudden, though, not really. It’s been a gradual acceptance, something she’s been coming to terms with since the day he left. She knows Edward’s decision wasn’t made easily; she knows he didn’t leave because he didn’t love her, but because he loved her so much he put aside his feelings for her and did what he thought was right. 

He went about it all the wrong way, removing every trace of himself from her life, banning his family from communicating with her, taking her choices away, but in the end his heart was in the right place, and she’s found a way to respect that, despite everything. 

Maybe it’s just Jacob. He brought her out of her post-breakup shell, made her smile again, laugh again, feel important and wanted and cared for. Maybe he filled in the cracks of her broken heart so she could use it again, without the need for exhilaration and adrenaline to cover up the pain of what she’s lost; maybe it’s just Jacob, bright like the sun they so seldom see, special and rare and wild. 

“It’s okay,” she assures him, voice steady with her conviction. She raises their conjoined hands and presses her lips to his knuckles, just briefly, before dropping them back to her side. 

Jake nods, accepts her answer, and they walk further along the beach until the sun goes down in a hazy blend of blue and orange and red.

He offers to drive her home, and even though it’s impractical, and she’d usually put up a fight, she wants that extra time with him. Wants to be that close to him. She sits in the middle of the bench seat, neither up against him nor really on the passenger’s side, but close enough for Jake to throw an arm across her shoulders, and they listen to the radio and talk about his pack while cruising down the road. 

“I better go,” he murmurs before she can even unlock her front door, and she tries not to let her face fall; she’d been hoping he’d stay over again, or come inside for a little bit, at least. 

She must fail at controlling her expression, because Jacob smiles softly, like he’s pleased with himself, and leans in, brushing his fingers over the line of her jaw. 

“We’re patrolling tonight—got a vampire to kill. But I’ll call you tomorrow?” 

She nods beneath his touch, and he pulls back and turns to leave, jogging down the street and toward the forest that’ll lead him back to La Push.

He does call the next day, but it’s brief; Victoria’s back, just as Sam expected, so they’re running all night, all day, trying to catch her off guard, taking breaks only to eat and sleep when they absolutely have to. Jacob promises to check in when he can, but after three days with no contact—and a voicemail from her father about locals spotting wolves in the woods—she’s on edge again, less concerned for her own safety, more worried about Jake’s. 

She’s an absolute idiot for doing it—going to the beach, to the tall cliffs that loom over it—but she needs the rush again, doesn’t feel right when it’s just her own troubled voice in her head. She needs to hear the purr of an engine, the hum of a plane, the crashing of pure, white water against rocks… or maybe Jacob’s heartbeat. But the cliffs are the simple option at the moment, and all she can think about until she’s actually there, looking out over the ocean, the gritty scents of sand and salt in her nose. 

She takes several deep, long breaths. That’s the key to these things that bring her so much excitement—using all of her senses, so she’s not just herself but everything around her too. She needs to see the sun on the horizon, taste the spray of seawater and clean, crisp air. She needs to smell the damp earth, touch the frothy bubbles that lap at the shore, hear…

She hears a wolf, actually, howling solemnly in the distance, but doesn’t register the sound until after she’s already jumped. 

The waves are choppier than they’d appeared when she was looking down at them, and it knocks the breath out of her lungs when they crash into her body, pulling her down into the dark vastness of the icy sea. Her arms and legs move instinctively, fighting to bring her back to the surface, but the water is deep and heavy and she’s already so tired of trying. 

She’s so cold all she can feel is cold, her teeth chattering, so even when she hits her head on a boulder and it starts to bleed, she doesn’t realize what’s happened until everything turns black.

She’s warmer, suddenly, that’s all she knows, though the ground beneath her back is rocky and wet, uncomfortable. She thinks maybe it’s a blanket that feels so warm, but quickly realizes it’s Jacob above her, soaked to his bones, a sigh of relief passing his lips. 

“Oh thank god. Can you hear me?” He cradles the back of her head in his palm and helps her sit up, then presses his fingers tenderly to the sore bump beneath her hair. “Your head’s not that bad, but I bet it hurts.” 

“Hmm. Hurts,” she mumbles, her throat raw, temples throbbing. She’s cold and tired and thirsty, but ashamed above all else; maybe she really does need someone making the decisions for her, if this is the kind of stupidity she gets up to when she’s alone. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” he answers quickly, and he runs his hands over her arms and legs, her neck, her face, checking for further injury. “I’m just glad you’re alright. The waves are bad today; you could have been swept away.” 

“I didn’t realize that until it was too late,” she admits sheepishly, and when he brings her closer she rests her cheek against his chest, feels tears stinging her already tired eyes. “I’m sorry, Jacob.” 

“It’s okay, I’m here. It’s okay.” His voice is as soft as his hands as they curve around her, holding her against him, and they sit like that for a couple minutes, until Sam runs over and tells him to get her home. 

He drives again, but this time she’s even more grateful, because there’s no way she could have done it herself. She feels so much at once—dumb and scared and childish, but also brave and calm, while somehow her mind races with thoughts of the wolves howling and Jacob’s hands in her hair. Her focus is shot, and even though she’s wrapped in one of Jake’s thick, fleece lined hoodies, she trembles, heavy and cold, as she peers out the passenger side window, watching the trees go by.

“Hundred and eight degrees over here,” Jacob says eventually, with a half smile, and she blinks for a moment before giving in; with a sigh, she scoots closer, wraps an arm around his waist. She can feel the heat of his body even through the layers they wear, and she shivers involuntarily at the pleasant but abrupt change in temperature.

“You still want me this close? Not afraid the bad decisions will rub off onto you?” It’s a joke, a self-deprecating one, and an apology all bundled together. “What I did was stupid, I know. I could have gotten really hurt, and you should have been out there with the pack, with Harry, not saving me.” 

He tilts his head, leans closer so his cheek rests against her hair.

“Well it wasn’t smart, but we all have our moments. And you couldn’t have known about Harry—don’t be too hard on yourself.” A long beat of silence passes, and she turns toward him, pressing her icy nose to his neck with another sigh.

“Mmm. You’re so warm. It must be nice, never getting cold.” 

“It’s a wolf thing,” he says with a shrug, but it’s not, not really, and she can’t let that stand. 

“Maybe, but trust me, it’s a Jacob thing too. You’ve always been warm.” She just sits there, breathes him in, lets him warm her hands and nose, so content she almost doesn’t notice when he pulls up in front of her house.

“This is better. Now that you know about me,” he says, tipping his face down, after he turns off the truck. She pulls back just enough to look into his eyes, to try to gauge his intent.

“But?” He swallows hard, looks away for a moment before returning to her face.

“You saw what happened to Emily. Sam got angry, lost it for a split second, and Em was standing too close. He’ll never be able to take that back.” He shakes his head, as if imagining the two of them in the same situation. What he could do to her. What she would think of him. “What if I get mad and I hurt you?” 

“You’re new to this—even if you are a natural,” she says, remembering a comment Embry had made when they’d last spoken. “You’ll learn how to control it, how to read the warning signs, and you’ll either stop yourself from turning or get somewhere safe. We’ll be okay,” she promises, resting her hand soothingly against his neck, and he sighs softly.

“Sometimes, I feel like I’m gonna disappear. Like one day it will be all wolf and no Jake.” He leans in, close enough that their noses just barely brush, and the way he looks down at her is something like… 

Yearning, she thinks to herself after a beat. It’s a powerful emotion, but she’s never seen it look quite so beautiful before. 

“You’re not going to lose yourself. I won’t let that happen.” 

“How?” he asks, bringing a hand up to cover hers, and she wets her lips, shakes her head to clear it; it’s swimming again, in this small space, so very close to him—especially when he’s looking at her like that.

“I’ll tell you all the time… how special you are to me.” She looks up, feels like she’s showing her soul to him, like this incident has stripped her down to bare bones and she’s letting him see her, once and for all. He stares into her eyes for a long moment, then leans in slowly, tentatively, and this time she doesn’t stop herself from meeting him in the middle, from pressing her mouth to his. 

She can actually feel the relief wash over him when she doesn’t reject his kiss, like he’s been tightly coiled and tense and can finally relax because she wants the same things, feels the same way.

She expects his lips to be warm, soft, but he is scorching against her skin, even more so when he moves his hand to her cheek in a gentle caress. With the palm against his hip, she pushes up his t-shirt, gets her fingers on his body, and they both gasp softly into the kiss, deepen it. 

“Jacob,” she sighs when they part for air; he seems okay, if a little shaky, but she feels flushed, eager, almost vibrating with the need to keep kissing him. She wants more, even though her throat burns like the last time his lips touched hers, when he forced the water out of her lungs and saved her life. 

That’s what he does best, her Jacob—like a flicker in the dark, he always pulls her away from the dangers of her own making and brings her back into the light.

“Is this real?” he asks, his breath a ghost on her lips; his other hand, on her lower back, pulls her closer to his body, and she turns her head and kisses the palm resting on her cheek. 

They kiss again, hands a bit less careful, hers sliding up his back, his weaving into her hair to control the tilt of her head. She gives in to it all, lets him set the pace, gripping him like a life preserver and letting his heat warm her from the inside out. She feels like she can’t get possibly close enough, wants to be pressed skin to skin, but she settles for sliding into his lap, ducking her head so she doesn’t hit it on the metal roof of the truck. 

He groans as she twists fingers into his hair, as she pulls him into her and feels the long, hard line of his body against hers. She kisses faster, harder, and he matches her fervor, wraps an arm around her waist and catches her chin with tight fingers. 

They kiss for a long time, and the cabin heats, windows fogging up as they share breath and saliva, as they murmur each other’s names like prayer. Her lips are red and raw when she finally needs to pause, and she rests her head against his chest and listens to the thunderous, wild beating of his heart. 

“Will you stay the night? Please?” she asks, voice a little broken—rough with need, and soreness from nearly drowning, and breathlessness caused by the most intense kiss of her entire life. 

Jacob nods, and he sets her carefully back on the seat, removes the keys from the ignition and climbs out of the truck. She slides out behind him, and he closes the door, takes her hand in his just like she did on the beach.

He locks the front door behind them when they’re finally inside—as if that will stop anyone we need to worry about, she teases with a soft laugh—and she takes the lead, walks up the stairs toward her bedroom with Jacob trailing behind. 

Despite his surreal body heat and the thick, warm sweatshirt he’d given her to wear, she’s still cold down to her bones, and wet like a drowned rat, so she pulls off her shoes and socks and sets them down by the radiator. Jacob watches her every move from a couple steps away, eyes lingering as she shrugs out of his hoodie, then pulls her damp sweater over her head. 

There’s nothing sexy or seductive about it, it’s not a striptease by any means, but he doesn’t look away when she’s down to her bra, and she doesn’t want him to. He bends down to take off his boots, to line them up next to hers, then bridges the distance between them and leans in for a deep, slow kiss. 

It’s not long before they both sink down onto the bed, and her fingers slip open the button of her jeans, then hesitate, wait at the button of his. She looks up at him, and the confirmation is all but written there, in the darkness of his eyes, the swipe of his tongue over his lips, but she needs to be sure. 

“I want you, all of you,” she murmurs, and then she brushes a hand through his hair, leans in to just rest her mouth against his. It’s delicate like the first time, but full of meaning, and he presses up into her kiss. “Do you want this?” 

“I want this. You. All—all of you.” He nods, licks his lips again, eyes softer but no less hungry, and she flicks open the button and kisses him like she did in the truck: hands on his body, in his hair, her breath all his. 

They don’t part, not really, just fall back against the pillows and tug at clothing, pressing kisses to throats and palms. His t-shirt drops to the bedroom floor, then her jeans and underwear, his, and the room is quiet except for the sounds of eager, wet kisses and soft, needy moans. 

She sits up, reaches back to unclasp her bra, and Jacob drags the strap down her shoulder, helps her take it off, leaving it somewhere in the bed; his mouth moves to hers, then down her neck, over her collarbone, and finally caresses each nipple with a gentle reverence that makes her ache all over.  

“You’re still sure?” he asks when she is shaking beneath his touch, strong arms wrapped around her back, and she nods and shifts up into his lap. 

When their lips meet, the kiss is hard, and she curls an arm around his shoulders, weaving a hand into his hair. They’re both panting when she leans up, guides him inside her, and when she sinks down it’s like a flash of tingling heat takes over her entire body. 

Jacob groans, holding her securely, thrusting up as she works her thighs above him. They kiss, deep and messy, graceless but passionate, her fingers tugging, his pressing hard into her skin. 

It’s not at all how she’d expected her first time to be; she’d imagined it would be with Edward, of course, and slow, but she can’t get enough of Jacob and it seems like he can’t get enough of her either. She’d imagined a cool, pale body above her, but it’s Jacob’s deep, rich, hot skin she presses her lips to, her fingernails against. She’d expected Edward’s hard, marble arms around her, and while Jacob is strong and firm he’s still soft, skin slick with sweat as they move together. 

“Jake,” she murmurs, the taste of him on her lips, his scent in her nose, woodsy, clean. “Jacob.” Her body trembles and he holds her tighter, presses his face into her neck. 

“I’ve got you.” She sighs happily at that, grabs his hair more roughly, rides him faster. 

“You’ve got me. You’ve always got me.” 

Jacob looks up at her, eyes fiery, liquid, then pulls her in with a hand on the back of her neck and kisses her like the first time—soft, nervous, sweet. The juxtaposition of that gentle kiss and his possessive grip makes her dizzy, and when he pulls back his face is all she can see, all she wants to see, all she needs.

“I’ve always got you,” he promises, his gaze tender, unflinching. “Always.”

He’s got her when he comes, holding her tightly with one thick forearm and dragging his free hand over her breasts, then lower, to rub her clit as she bounces herself to climax in his grasp. “Oh, god,” she breathes, voice like a shiver, and her fingernails dig half-moons into his biceps as they both slow, slow, slow, then stop altogether.

He eases them both down against the bed, arms around her, their legs entwined, and they catch their breath, just look at each other until the exhaustion of the day catches up to her. Her eyes flutter closed, and pressed so close to him, so warm, all she can do is sleep.

When she wakes, it’s still mostly dark, and she desperately needs to clean up in the bathroom and get a glass of water. Jacob’s t-shirt is the first piece of clothing she sees—or the first she wants to see—and she pulls it over her head and pads to the bathroom for a human moment—a very human moment indeed. 

She pauses, while washing her hands, to look over her reflection in the mirror. Rationally, she knows nothing has really changed, but at the same time everything has. 

The bathroom water is never cold enough to drink, so she treads down the stairs, across the kitchen, turns on the tap and lets it run until the water is icy and crisp. She fills a glass, takes a couple of sips, then almost drops it when a cool hand is suddenly pressed to her shoulder. 

It’s Alice, and she uses her other hand to catch the glass before it can hit the floor and shatter. 

“Relax. It’s just me.” Her eyes are soft, and it’s clear she is happy to see her, but there’s something else in her expression, something inquisitive. “You’re alright.”

“I’m fine. I’m… good, actually.” She shrugs, which bares her shoulder, in the large t-shirt she wears, that she’d forgotten she was wearing. She freezes—she knows how she must smell to Alice, like Jacob and like… Jacob—but her friend just shakes her head. 

“I couldn’t see you; well, I saw you jump off a cliff, and then you were gone. I thought you died.” 

“Alive and well,” she says with a tone that’s hoping for lighthearted, but… 

She has no regrets about being with Jacob, not one—she just hadn’t expected to be confronted with a vampire she once considered a sister almost immediately after. She doesn’t know what to say right now, how to act. Who to be.

“I was cliff jumping, recreationally. It was fun... for a minute.” Alice rolls her eyes, but it’s clear she’s happy she’s unharmed—though perhaps irritated by her tendency toward life-threatening idiocy.

“That doesn’t explain why I couldn’t see you, why your whole future went black.” Her golden eyes stare seriously, unblinking for a moment, and then she looks away. “Though maybe I owe that to the wolf in your bed.” 

Of all the nights for Alice to come back to Forks, she thinks, a suddenly uncomfortable pit in her stomach. Then she hears footsteps on the stairs.

“Not in her bed anymore,” Jacob says, voice low, from the doorway to the kitchen; he takes half a step forward, an aborted move, like he wants to put himself in between them. 

“This is Alice, Edward’s sister. Alice, this is Jacob,” she explains, trying not to focus on his shirtless torso, or the pained expression on his face. She blows out a deep breath. “It’s okay. She won’t hurt me.” 

“She’s hurt you before,” he counters, no doubt remembering every heartbroken, aching expression she’d worn in the months prior. He takes a step closer, so he is next to her, his forearm grazing hers, and Alice takes a step back. “I’d like to stick around, if it’s all the same to you.” 

He’s posturing, that much is clear, but she can't find it in herself to be irritated, because at least he’s giving her the option, letting her choose.

“I thought you couldn’t protect me here,” she says, turning her face up to look at him, and Jacob’s response makes heat pool low in her belly, just like the night before. 

“There is nowhere in this world I won’t protect you—treaty or no treaty.” 

She wants so badly to kiss him, but Alice is there, Alice, right in front of her after all this time, and she’s conflicted. Torn. He can tell, she knows, but he doesn’t take it personally, just reaches up to scratch his head, sighs. 

“So are more of you coming? Is–is he…?” 

“I came alone. And no,” Alice replies after a moment, but she’s looking at her instead, probably knows that he’s just saying what she’s too worried to ask. “He only calls in once every few months. Says he wants to be alone.” Jacob scoffs.

“Great. He wants to be alone, so you all leave her behind, unprotected? That red headed vampire is after her because of him.” 

That gets a reaction out of Alice, whose eyes darken protectively.

“Who, Victoria? I haven’t seen her.” She stares off into the distance, like she’s searching for memories, visions, sifting through what she’s seen and trying to piece together what she hasn’t. “Just like I didn’t see you get pulled out of the water. There’s a lot I haven’t seen, apparently,” she adds under her breath, and the other girl presses her lips together, sighs. 

Not the time or place for this discussion, and they both know it, but that doesn’t mean it’s avoidable for long. 

“So you can’t see around Jacob. The wolves,” she guesses. “I’ve been with them a lot lately.”

“With him a lot lately,” Alice corrects. Jacob huffs, but it’s not untrue, so she lets her think what she wants. Her silence must speak volumes, because Alice takes a deep, wholly unnecessary breath, and gestures toward the door. “Should I go?” 

“Please don’t,” she says quickly, nearly begging. It’s the first she’s seen of Alice in almost a year and she cannot let her leave as abruptly as she’d shown up. “If you could just give us a minute…” 

“Take two,” the vampire says, and it’s with a half-smile that turns into a smirk. “I’ll go Febreze the living room while I wait: it smells like wet dog.” She turns to leave, a bounce in her step that the other girl can’t help laughing at, shaking her head. 

She sobers up when Jacob turns toward her, takes a step that moves the both of them, so her back is pressed up against the kitchen counter. He looks so serious, and her heart beats for him everywhere. 

“Do you believe her? When she says she came alone?” he asks, and she tilts her head, nods softly. 

“Of course I believe her. She just had to make sure I was okay, that’s all. There’s… there’s nothing for them here.” 

Even as she says the words, she hopes they’re not true—hopes that, even if they really aren’t meant to be together, that she and Edward, she and the Cullens, can still be… Friends isn’t really a strong enough word, but she wants them in her life, potential bloody accidents be damned. 

“So if he came back,” Jacob says, leaning in closer, his lips hovering over hers, “you wouldn’t go to him?” His tone is light, but she understands the weight of his question, takes a moment to find the right words to answer it. 

“If he came back, I’d want to see him. Just like I want to see Alice.” She reaches out to touch him, his warm, bare skin, places her palm over his thumping heart. “But I wouldn’t go to him. Not like this.” 

It’s true, and she wants to say more, to promise him, reassure him, but just after she says it, the landline rings. Jacob sighs, his breath on her cheek, and reaches out a hand to answer it. “Hello?” The person on the other end speaks in a low tone she can’t make out, but she can see the tick in Jacob’s jaw, a hard set to his eyes. “He isn’t here right now, but that’s not who you really want, is it?” 

There’s another moment of conversation she can’t hear, and Alice walks into the room looking stunned; Jacob hands the other girl the receiver, and she looks from him to Alice and then speaks into the phone. “Hello?” 

“You’re alright.” 

It’s Edward, his voice cool and smooth but thick with emotion. It makes butterflies flutter around in her stomach, just like it used to. 

“I’m alright.” She doesn’t give him more than he asks for, doesn’t take more than he offers. She’s aware of two sets of eyes on her, feels more nervous than before, in her oversized t-shirt and sleep-mussed hair.

She’s glad he can’t see her and wonders exactly what that means.

“Good. Rosalie said Alice had a vision…” He trails off, but they both know what he’s not saying: everyone thought she’d given up and killed herself. She crosses her arms.

“The vision was incomplete. I’m fine. Stupid, but fine.” Edward huffs a laugh down the line, and she can imagine the exact cant of his mouth, the glimmer in his eye that always seemed to be reserved for her.

“You are many things, but stupid is not one of them.” There’s more he wants to say, she can tell; as a man of few words, many of their conversations were punctuated with heavy, meaningful silence. Part of her wishes she could see his face, at least. That always helped. “Who answered the phone? Jacob?”

She looks up at him involuntarily, notes the tightness of his mouth, his arms folded in front of his bare chest. 

“Yes, Jacob. He’s the one who pulled me out of the water, the one Alice didn’t see.” 

“Hmm. He still doesn’t seem to like me much.” Her lips turn up at that—understatement of the century—and she wonders if Jake can hear him too. Based on the stoic expression he wears, he either can’t, or he’s not paying attention. 

“No he does not.” A beat passes, then two. “You should call your family more often, go see them. They miss you.” 

“It’s difficult,” he says, swallowing, and she nods at no one. 

“I know, but don’t punish them. Please.” She knows how it feels, to be totally cut off from people she loves, to constantly wonder, always fear the worst; she doesn’t say it because she knows he knows.

“I’ll consider it, if you don’t go jumping off those cliffs any time soon.” She laughs softly, surprised at his humor; this was not how she would have ever anticipated a call like this to go, but she likes it. Likes them, like this. 

“Deal. Alice is looking at me like she’s going to steal the phone any moment,” she warns, which is putting it mildly. “So I’m going to put her on. You can call when it’s not life or death, you know,” she adds quietly. “It would be nice to hear from you. If you ever want to talk.” 

She doesn’t know if he responds, because Alice takes the receiver, winds the cord around her arm, and scolds her brother with love in the way only a sister can manage. 

While they talk, she walks toward Jacob, then past him, toward the staircase, but she takes hold of his hand as she goes, and he follows just like the night before. This time, he closes the bedroom door behind them. 

“I’m sorry this happened like this,” she says, sitting down on the bed, one leg beneath her and the other hanging over the edge. “I’m not sorry Alice is here, but I’m sorry that’s what you woke up to. If you were… worried.” Jacob takes the space next to her atop the rumpled duvet. 

“I was worried when I smelled a bloodsu- vampire,” he corrects quickly, “and you weren’t beside me.”

“I’m sorry,” she says again, this time leaning closer. “But thank you for giving me the phone, letting me talk to him. I’m sure that wasn’t easy.” He shrugs, like it was no big deal, even though she remembers how angry he’d looked at the sound of Edward’s voice. 

“I almost didn’t. I mean, technically, he didn’t ask for you.” She rolls her eyes—definitely guy logic—then stands up, scoops his jeans off the floor and hands them over to him. Her face heats at the memory of removing them in the first place, but she snaps out of that for her own sake and grabs fresh clothes, steps into the bathroom to make herself presentable.

When she’s done, she heads back to her bedroom, where Jacob is now clad in jeans and boots, sitting shirtless on her bed. She deposits the borrowed t-shirt onto his lap, and when he thinks she’s not looking he brings it to his nose, inhales long and slow, before pulling it over his head.

That action does things to her, and she wishes for a moment that she had his senses, so she could smell the two of them the same way he does, their scents deeply saturated and blended together.

They head downstairs when they’re both dressed, and while he rummages in the refrigerator for something to make them for breakfast, she treads into the living room and sits down next to Alice on the couch. 

“So,” Alice says, and then she gestures to a cup of tea. The other girl picks up the mug and thanks her, brings it to her lips. “How long has that been going on?” 

She feels her cheeks heat, and she hides behind another sip of tea. 

“Really? I haven’t seen you in almost a year and that’s what you want to talk about?” 

“Oh, forgive me for being curious about what it’s like to date a werewolf when last I saw you were grieving the loss of my brother.” Alice’s tone is more playful than it would seem, and her eyes smile even if her lips don’t. 

She always knew that Edward wasn’t telling the truth when he said he didn’t want her. He just couldn’t bear it, knowing that being with him put her in so much danger, caused her so much pain. She knew it was worth it, but if he didn’t… there’s nothing she could have done to change his mind, she knows that now. She can’t feel guilty for moving on when it’s exactly what he’d wanted her to do in the first place. 

“Okay, you’re right. Let’s talk about how I’m going to comb the woods, find Victoria, and rip her into confetti for threatening to hurt you.” 

“You don’t have to do that,” Jacob says, walking into the room with… a cup of tea. He looks over at the mug in her hand, then sets the one he brought her down on the table without a word. “The pack’s got it covered.” 

“All due respect, but if the pack had it covered, she wouldn’t be a threat anymore, would she?” Alice tosses over her shoulder. The other girl sets her tea down and sighs. 

“Alright, can we not do this? The age-old vampires versus werewolves thing? Especially if I’m in the middle of it. Maybe you guys could work together for a change; Alice can’t protect this part of the territory all by herself.” She picks up her drink—a drink, the one Jacob made, this time—and takes a long sip, looks up at them over the rim of the mug. 

“The pack could help, if you give us the authority to amend the treaty,” Jacob says to Alice, though he’s kind of looking at the ceiling, his arms crossed. “But wherever she is, I’ll be.” 

“You can’t be with her every second,” Alice counters, and her exasperation makes it  sound like an argument she’s had before. “It’s not good for either of you and could put her in danger; if Victoria picks up on it, she’ll be able to use your scent to track her anywhere. Trust me, yours is a lot stronger than hers is, and it’s all over her.” 

She thinks Jacob makes some kind of noise, like a low growl in the very back of his throat, but it’s hard to hear. Alice raises her eyebrows like she’s trying not to roll her eyes. 

The three of them discuss potential ways to coordinate with the pack, and Alice mentions calling in Emmett and Jasper to see if they could help with the search; the sooner Victoria is gone, the better, is the general consensus, and Jacob thinks he can get Sam on board with that as well, even if it means more Cullens coming back to town. 

She finishes both cups of tea, then a plate of eggs and toast Jacob put together from the bare-bones contents of her kitchen—she reminds herself to make a shopping list, then absently wonders if she’ll have a grand escort to Trader Joe’s. 

“I’ll make some calls while you’re gone,” Alice says as she is taking her last bite; she looks up from her plate, confused, and Alice waves a hand. “I saw a glimpse of you at the grocery store, but then it went dark; I assume that means he’s going with you.”

“I thought about it for a split second, as a joke,” she clarifies with a huff of laughter. “I don’t think I need a bodyguard in the produce aisle at eight AM.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Alice and Jacob say, at the same time, and her lips twitch in amusement. 

Looks like they’re not so different, in the end.

She gives in and allows Jacob to drive her to the supermarket, though not without a long look from Alice as he walks her to the truck with his hand on the small of her back. 

They breeze through the store thanks to the list in her head—she buys a little more than she usually would, because it seems like Jacob plans to be around. She likes the thought of that even more than she’d expected, likes choosing things solely because she knows he’ll enjoy them.

“I think we should talk about last night,” Jacob says, voice low, when they’re nearly back to her house. She cringes internally, because that’s never a sentence a girl wants to hear after a night like that, and he clears his throat. “I know cliff jumping ended up being kind of traumatic for you, and it didn’t feel like it last night, but if I took advantage…”

He looks over at her, his expression pained, and she shifts closer and wraps her hand around his forearm.

“God, no, Jake—that’s not what happened.” He brings the truck to a stop in her driveway, puts it in park, and she presses her palm to his cheek so he’ll focus on her instead of fixing his gaze out the window. “I wanted everything, every moment. I still want it,” she murmurs, and he looks over her face like he’s still not quite sure he believes it.

“You do? Even after… after you spoke to him, and everything?” It’s a fair question, and again, one she answers very carefully.

“I think we needed to talk, he and I, but it didn’t change anything. You’re the one who changed everything,” she admits softly, tentatively, wetting her lips. She hopes her eyes convey the certainty her voice can’t seem to. “Do you want to kiss me?” she breathes, leaning closer, her fingers winding a path through his hair, and he nods his head and presses his mouth to hers. 

She gets up on her knees so she can be closer to him, but she doesn’t climb into his lap like before—she does have some self-restraint, despite what it may seem. She curls one arm around the muscles of his back, pulls him in for more contact with the hand in his hair, and it’s a few minutes later when she remembers they’ve got bags of perishable groceries in the back and a vampire with excellent acoustic abilities just inside her home. 

She pulls back, smiles a little at the soft, unfocused look on his face, then runs her hand down his chest before lifting it away entirely.

“I know we’re kind of at DEFCON 1 right now, but more of that a little later would be nice.” 

“Hmm. Very nice,” he agrees with a nod, his voice slightly rough, and he turns off the ignition and carries all of her groceries into the kitchen with one strong arm. 

Emmett and Jasper do come back, with Rosalie and Esme, to her delight and Jacob’s discomfort. Between the pack, who comes to get the vampires’ scents so there’s no friendly fire, and the family, who split time between her house and the one they left behind, the place is a revolving door of the supernatural for the next few days. 

All of them take turns watching over her house at night, while the others patrol the woods. She catches up with everyone she’s been separated from—even Jasper gives her a crushing hug, so at least the time away was good for something—and it’s wonderful, but it means there’s not much time to be with Jacob aside from planning sessions and the occasional quick check in. The most time she spends with him is when they attend Harry’s funeral, something somber and intimate, with ethereal music and a glowing campfire and endless stories about the Clearwater line. 

She is introduced to Leah and Seth, Harry’s children, and while Seth seems welcoming and friendly his sister is cold, standoffish—though not without reason, she soon learns from the pack. 

“She’s not always like that… mostly just when she’s around Sam,” Embry says where they stand on the edge of the forest, away from the thick smoke that burns her very human eyes. She looks over at the pack leader at the mention of his name. “Now that she’s part of the pack, we have to live the Leah/Sam/Emily painfest all over again.” 

She turns back to him, to Quil, who’s standing beside him, and tilts her head, curious.

“I don’t think I follow—Sam left Leah for Emily?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s not what you think. He hates himself for hurting her, but he couldn’t help it. Emily was ‘the one.’” Quil says it almost sarcastically, with air quotes for emphasis, and she frowns.

“The one?” She doesn’t mean to sound skeptical, but these days she’s not as big a fan of providence and destiny as she used to be.

“Sam imprinted on Emily. It’s kind of like… soulmates, but bigger. Cosmic. They were literally meant to be together.”

“Like fate,” she says, filling in that blank, and then a large, warm hand is splayed across her back, fingertips pressing into the fabric of her dress. 

“We make our own fate around here,” Jacob says tightly, and she looks up, regards him curiously. He’s not just upset about Harry, or Victoria… there’s got to be something else making his jaw tense, his eyes hard. “And I think that’s more than enough of the pack soap opera for tonight. Are you ready to go home?” 

He turns his gaze to her, and it softens, for which she is grateful; he is her guardian on duty tonight, and despite the solemn evening—or maybe because of it—she wants to spend the night as close to him as she possibly can.

She nods, and after they say their goodbyes he walks her to the truck, opens the door for her, closing it carefully when she’s safely inside. He takes the spot behind the driver’s seat—his usual, now—but doesn’t drive straight to her house like she expects. 

“Ice cream?” she asks when he turns off the engine outside of a mom and pop shop selling sundaes, cones, and shakes. She exits the car at his indication, and the two of them walk hand in hand up to the illuminated window that says Order Here. An older couple is ahead of them, pointing at the chalk menu board, and Jacob leans in to speak in a hushed tone. 

“This place was Harry’s favorite. You like chocolate, right?” 

“Has anyone ever answered ‘no’ to that question?” she asks softly, playfully, and it works as intended, lightens the mood just enough to bring a brilliant smile to his painfully beautiful face. “I think this is a wonderful way to remember him, Jake.” She wraps a comforting arm around his, and Jacob nods, lips pressed together, eyes sad.

“Just kind of feels right.” 

He orders for them when it’s their turn, two waffle cones with two scoops of chocolate ice cream each, and they sit at a picnic table on the side of the building, eating their tributes with heavy hearts and looking up at the stars.

The ride home is quiet, contemplative, at least for her; by the time they arrive she has been running through thoughts of mortality, finality, how short life is and how very precious. 

These are all normal thoughts for a person to have, and certainly after a celebration of life like the one on the reservation tonight, but she thinks seriously for the first time about Jacob and his desperate need to protect her, the way he puts himself in danger—stupidly, recklessly, completely—every day to keep her safe.

When they’ve made it inside, she exhales deeply, looks up into earnest, curious eyes, and wraps her arms around him, presses close so she can bury her nose in his clothing.

She breathes him in long and slow, his usual scent of crisp air and rain and oak dulled by the smoke of the bonfire, and then his hands are in her hair, tipping her face up for a decadent, passionate kiss. 

God, how is he so good at this? she thinks as he sips at her lips, glides his own down the tender line of her throat. She sighs and grabs for his arms, something to ground her as her desire threatens to take over, to leave her a whimpering, begging mess beneath his hands. 

Jacob turns them so she’s got her back to the kitchen table, sets her on top of it, and she parts her knees for him, pulls him closer. Her fingers itch with the need to touch his skin, so she tugs at the hem of his shirt and gets her hands beneath it, skims them over the taut muscles of his bare back. 

“I can take it off,” he murmurs against her neck, and she nods breathlessly and helps him pull it over his head. His hands bracket her hips, palms flat on the table, and her arms curve up around his back, bringing him closer; she kisses him eagerly anywhere she can reach—his throat, shoulders, face, everywhere.

She whispers his name into his own skin, presses her lips to his biceps, scrapes her teeth over the lobe of his ear, and he shudders at her touch, tilts his head to look up at her, his eyes dark and almost… dangerous.

What does it say about her, that she finds that look so goddamn attractive?

“I’m sorry, I—I need a minute,” he says, panting through gritted teeth, and she lets her hands fall away, leaning back a little to give him space to breathe.

“Take all the time you need,” she assures him calmly, patiently. It’s the first time she’s ever seen his wolf so close to the surface, and she’s completely unafraid, would hold him and help him ride out the tension in his body if she thought he would let her. “It’s just us, Jake, just me and you.” 

“Just us,” he repeats, his fists clenching and unclenching, taking a long breath with his eyes closed. She breathes with him, has always found that helpful when she herself is overwhelmed, and after a few moments he presses closer and she runs a soothing hand over his chest. “I’m okay,” he says eventually, leaning in slowly for a kiss as though he’s afraid it will be rejected. She brings her hands to his face, deepens it, so it’s still soft and easy but with enough meaning behind it to convey her thoughts. 

“I know,” she murmurs, just to be certain he believes her. “You did so good; so good, Jake.” He nods, pulls back a little so he can look into her eyes. 

“It’s not that I can’t control it, I can, but…” He looks away for a moment, swipes his tongue over his lips. “The instincts are so strong and I don’t always want to fight them. Sometimes when I’m with you, I want to let the wolf win.” He says it like he’s ashamed, and she puts her arm around his shoulders and brings him down for another kiss, this one just a gentle press of mouths.

“I understand that more than you think I do.” His breath on her lips makes her crave more of his heat, but she knows it has to be slow now, or he’ll get too in his head and never let himself enjoy their night together. “I may not be supernaturally inclined, but sometimes making decisions with my body is all I want to do. Especially with you,” she adds, just a sigh between them, then touches their foreheads together. 

They stay like that for a moment, embracing in their own way, until he initiates a kiss that is so thorough it makes her toes curl. She brings her hands to his waist, guides him closer, and he rests a broad palm at the base of her throat and kisses her, again, and again, and again. 

Her arms curl around his body the second they separate for air, and he lifts her from the table, carries her up the stairs with an ease that makes her long for more frequent displays of his strength. 

Getting his clothes off is quick enough, since he’s already shirtless, and his hands are tender and gentle as he sweeps her hair away from her neck, pulls down the zipper of her dress, slides it off her bare shoulders. 

Neither of them bother to pull back the covers, simply lay back on the bed, her knees apart again, Jacob hovering between them and letting his eyes move over her like he’s committing her body to memory. It makes a wave of heat rush through her, and since tonight is less hurried she does the same, lingers over every curve of muscle, every sharp line of bone. He leans in, lays an arm behind her head, glides his lips over her jaw, her cheek, her mouth.

“I was right, before,” she says after another satisfying kiss, letting her fingers press into the flesh of his hips. He looks into her eyes, tilts his head curiously, and she smiles a little, can’t help herself. “You really are beautiful.” 

Jake breathes a laugh, even blushes a little, then kisses her until they’re both panting; her fingertips press harder when he pushes inside, then glide up his back to keep him close while the two of them move together. 

Jacob feels so different this way, is so much deeper, filling her in a way that makes it so she really can’t tell where she ends and he begins. He is heavy on top of her, but not uncomfortably so, and when her body shifts up the bed with every thrust it’s thrilling, incredible—she’s never felt so much in her life.

His face is serious, eyes focused, and she weaves her fingers into his hair and catches his lips in a kiss, moans into the end of it when he finds a spot inside of her that takes her breath away. 

“Oh, god, Jake.” He leans in for another kiss, deep and wet, nods against her lips. 

“You’re perfect—so perfect,” he huffs, breathless; he moves his hand to her hip, runs it over her stomach, then presses his palms to the bed and repeats his previous motion, over and over, her body coiling tight with pleasure. “Can’t believe I get this.” 

“We get this,” she corrects in a whisper, won’t let him think for one second that she’s not as completely in awe of him as he seems to be of her. She skims her nails over his lower back, his ass, tightens her thighs on either side of him and tips her head back just as he makes her come. “Don’t stop, Jake, please,” she whines, shaking, holding him so tightly with her entire body—she never wants it to end, never wants to be separated from him again, and he agrees, if the way his body presses down on hers is any indication. 

“Can’t stop… need you,” he groans, pushing her leg up further, so he feels almost impossibly thick and deep. Her arms wrap around his back, pulling him closer, holding him there as he ruts into her, scorching flesh pressed against flesh. 

“Yes, oh—”

Before she knows it she’s quaking again, gasping when he brings his teeth to her throat, scrapes them over her throbbing pulse. He growls in her ear, a deep, low, animalistic rumble she can feel in her stomach, then comes inside, claiming her with a broken, raspy, “mine.”

He lays half on top of her, half on the bed, after, their skin soft and damp with cooling sweat. She can’t stop looking at his face, his dark eyes, sharp jaw, and he cups her cheek with a gentle palm and gazes just as intently at her. 

“Come here,” she murmurs, a soft smile on her lips, and he kisses her slowly, makes her sigh with a pleasure so complete—mentally, physically, spiritually—it feels like she’ll never be the same. 

He gets up after a moment, comes back with a glass of water and a towel, and helps her clean up well enough to hold her over until she’s ready to get out of bed. She pulls the covers back while he’s gone, slides in between the cool sheets, and he follows her lead, pressing close to her beneath them.

“Are you upset you didn’t imprint on me?” she asks carefully, propping herself up on her elbow and using the other hand to run fingers through his hair. “I noticed that when the guys were talking about it, you got kind of tense.” He shrugs slightly before shaking his head.

“No, not upset… I was just so sure you were meant for me; I really thought it would happen sooner or later.” She understands that, can picture him wishing and waiting for something that would never come to pass. So patient, her Jacob.

“Do you wish it had? Do you think it would make this more real?” Her hand moves from his hair to his collarbone, down his chest, over his stomach, so very low. “Because when I’m touching you like this… nothing has ever felt so real.” 

He presses her against the bed, hovers over her, kisses her breathless, and it goes without saying that he agrees with every word she says. She softens beneath him, tired and pleased, and he shifts into a more comfortable position, laying behind her, that she knows means sleep for the both of them. He drapes an arm over her, and she draws circles into his skin with her fingertips, feels his warm breath on her neck, closes her eyes and revels in the weight of him at her back.

“Anyway,” she whispers, one last thought on her mind before she succumbs to sleep, “I almost think it’s better like this, that we have to fight for each other. No help from fate—just your will and mine.”

A/N: I got my start in fandom spaces by writing Twilight fanfic fifteen years ago, but I never posted it because it was... bad. Last week was a crummy week for me, so I found comfort in watching New Moon, and I literally couldn't help myself from re-writing it in Jacob's favor. There's no Edward hate here, and he'll play a bigger role in the next part I have planned, but Jake took hold of me in this one and didn't let go.

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Cardigan - Rafe Cameron Imagine

Word count: 4.5 k (Longest fic I've ever written!!!)

Warnings: Illusions to smut, a lot of angst and heartbreak, and swearing. 18+ only Minors DNI

The italics are flash backs, so I hope this isn't too confusing to read!

Vintage tee, brand new phone High heels on cobblestones When you are young, they assume you know nothing Sequined smile, black lipstick Sensual politics When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Life in outer banks was paradise, or at least it was supposed to be. Growing up, you had been blessed enough to be the rich side of the island and known as a kook. Your parents were pretty well off and you grew up next door to the Cameron’s. You had a good relationship with both of the kids, or you did anyways. You were never as high up on the popularity chain of politics at school as they were, but that didn’t keep you from fittings in with them.

Summer had just started; which meant that the first party of the year was creeping up that night. “What should I wear?” You were standing in your closet, eyes scanning the choices you had. You could wear an old band tee and a pair of jeans, or you could dress up a bit. But, that wasn’t really your style, it never had been. “Just wear your old nirvana tee, I love how that looks on you.” Your friends voice cemented your choice as you changed into the clothes, putting your makeup on. You were almost ready when you heard a gasp, your eyes lingering on your best friend as you waited for her to get on with the dramatics.

“Rafe is coming tonight.” The words hung in the air as you just clicked your tongue and tried not to think about what those words meant. “Do you still wanna go?” Reminders of the heart break the boy brought on filled your head as you swallowed thickly, thinking of if you wanted to deal with the feelings coming back. However, that slowly slipped out of your control as you skidded back into the recesses of your mind that had been taken up by the Cameron boy.

He ran a hand through his hair as he gnawed on his bottom lip. He wasn’t expecting you to act this way. “Come on, her and I were just having fun. You have no right to act like this.” His words infuriated you as you shook your head and laughed under your breath, of course he was that clueless. “Actually, I do. Fuck you. You can’t have us both like this.” And with that you stormed off, leaving him standing stunned and alone in the middle of the crowded party.

"(Y/N), come on. Do you still wanna go or not?" Your friend stood in front of you, her keys dangling off her finger as she tried to get your attention. You didn't realize you had zoned out until she snapped you out of it, an embarrassed blush taking over your face as you nodded. "Yeah, sure. I deserve to get out for a bit."

But I knew you Dancin' in your Levi's Drunk under a streetlight, I I knew you Hand under my sweatshirt Baby, kiss it better, I

As soon as you agreed, your friend could be heard cheering and taking your hand. She pulled you down to her car and quickly got in, driving towards the party.

She drug you inside, the sounds of kids cheering and music that was way too loud immediately filled your ears. The smell of weed and alcohol was impossible to ignore as the two of you made your way to the kitchen to grab a drink, the two of you leaning against the counter to people watch. You saw some of your old friends and went over to talk to them, laughing and smiling.

Time felt like it was flying as you enjoyed yourself, your body moving to the music with your friends. You hadn't felt this free in what felt like ever and it was a refreshing feeling. "Oh, shit. Excuse me." You felt someone run into you and you turned to look at who it was, meeting an all too familiar pair of steely blue eyes. Your mouth opened to say something before it closed again, your eyes now landing on the girl standing next to Rafe. Sofia, of course. You just gave a small, tight lipped smile as you saw a flash of sadness in the boys eyes.

You pretended to ignore it as you turned to your friends, telling them you would be right back. You walked outside and sat by the pool at the party, soft whimpers leaving your lips as you heard your name being called from behind you. Why did he have to be here? Why? Why why why? The questions kept piling up in your mind as you let yourself remember when everything was simple and easy; when you were the girl attached to his hip. When you were the girl he pulled along with him at parties and showed off.

“Rafe, come on.” Your words were drug out as you tried to pull the man up off the couch, his Levi’s feeling scratchy against your bare legs. He just sat back, an amused smile on his lips as he let you continue to try and pry him off the couch. “Come on, sweetheart. Gotta try harder than that.” The smugness in his voice was all but aggravating as you threw your arms over your chest, crossing them in frustration.

The boy in front of you finally took the hint and got up, his hands finding yours with one as his other slid around your waist. He held you close, humming softly as he spun you around the kitchen. The two of you were best friends, or were you more? You didn’t know. The two of you just always acted like this and no one asked anything about it and you never had any doubts. He leaned his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours as he leaned in.

Just before he kissed you, his phone started ringing and it caused the both of you to jump apart. “Hey, Top.” He put the phone up to his ear and listened to the other boy, nodding and glancing at you as he chewed on his bottom lip. “Yeah, man. (Y/N) and I will be there.” He said goodbye and looked at you, a smirk on his lips. “Come to the bar with the guys and I.” You knew you didn’t have a choice, nodding as you ran to go change.

After the excitement of the night wore off you stood next to Rafe outside the bar, his arm thrown around your waist as he talked to Kelce. The alcohol was pumping through both of your veins, your eyes moving from the boy towering above you and the streetlight you were standing under. “Well, I gotta go. It was good to see you guys.” Kelce gave you a nod and a smile before he left, leaving you and Rafe to your own devices.

You leaned against the streetlight, a love drunk smile on your lips as you looked up at the boy who was now leaning against you. “What?” Your words were innocent and quiet as you felt Rafe’s hand slide up on your waist, his cold fingers on your waist as he leaned in to attach his lips to yours. He tasted like bourbon and cigarettes, the taste intoxicating as you reached up and tangled your fingers in his hair.

That was the first time you guys kissed, but it definitely wasn’t the last.

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan Under someone's bed You put me on and said I was your favorite

“Rafe, do you wanna come home with me?” The girls words rang out in your head as you stood next to him at the party, a crushing feeling starting in the pit of your stomach and in your chest. You were right next to him. Didn’t she see you? Or did she just not care?

Your eyes ran over the girl, feeling a bit insecure. She clearly was higher up on the pyramid than your family when it came to money, her flashy jewelry and clothes making that obvious. She was pretty, very pretty in fact. But, Rafe didn’t seem bothered. He just shook her off and pulled you closer, smiling down at you as he leaned and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips.

You didn’t know what you were to Rafe. You didn’t know if the two of you were just best friends still, friends with benefits, or dating. You didn’t know. But, you knew he made you feel special. He made you feel important. “You’re all I ever need.”

A friend to all is a friend to none Chase two girls, lose the one When you are young, they assume you know nothing

Rafe was a player, you knew that from a best friend stand point and from the standpoint of just having a pair of eyes. He did not like to every commit to just one girl. "It's too boring." The conversation was one the two of you had a lot; especially when his hookups came whining to you about what was happening. It always slightly broke you, and you weren't sure if it was jealously or just seeing the sheer heartbreak these girls went through at the fingertips of someone you knew that well.

"I'm just playing the field until I find someone I want to really settle down with." His explanations always were an attempt at getting away with it. And for a while, you let them work. You would just apologize to the girls and go about your life. After all, you weren't his mom. You couldn't control him.

But, the game seemed to change once you got wrapped up in it. It didn't seem so fair anymore and guilt ate at your stomach; wondering who else was getting the same treatment you were. But, hey. He wouldn't do that to you, would he? Surely not.

But I knew you Playing hide-and-seek and Giving me your weekends, I I knew you Your heartbeat on the High Line Once in twenty lifetimes, I

Rafe sung in the shower, that was a tid-bit that you knew that not many other people did. But, as you sat on his bed and listened to his voice carrying out of the bathroom, the angelic tone mixing with the falling of the water, you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.

You got to see all of his quirks that he hid from the world because they didn't seem to be manly enough. For instance, anytime he took medicine he almost always gagged and he didn't like the feeling of scratchy sweaters. He was human, but it often got lost in the perfection act that he had to put on for everyone.

But, as the water stopped you got a maniacal idea and decided to try and scare your beloved best friend. You scampered out of bed and went to hide behind the door to his bathroom, praying that he didn't accidentally slam it on you as he walked past. "(Y/N)?" His voice was softer now that he was out of the shower and it wasn't vibrating off the walls, his blue eyes scanning his room for you.

You stood in your place, hand over your mouth to hide your giggles. However, it was fruitless and soon you were being pulled into his tight chest. His arms wound around your waist as he twirled you around, both of your laughter filling the room. "Put me down! You're getting me soaked!" You instantly regretted the words as soon as Rafe let out a signature chuckle and winked at you, setting you down on the floor. Your bare feet felt soft against the hardwood floor as you landed softly, his eyes meeting yours. "Oh, I can show you soaked." And with that, you were shoving his chest away with a huff. "You're so perverted."

That was your friendship with him. It was everything good and innocent until it wasn't. "Come with me to the bar this weekend." After he had gotten dressed the two of you were now laying in his bed, your head in his lap as he scanned through text messages. His eyes would dart down to you every once in a while, his eyebrows raising in a half question and half statement as you considered it. "Maybe I want you to suffer without me." It was a joke, and you both knew it. But, it was fun to push his buttons. A scoff left his pretty lips before a pout overtook it, blue irises boring into your soul. "Oh, come on. You can't possibly leave me with Kelce and Topper. You know how much of a vibe killer they are."

The words elicited a laugh from your lips as you nodded in a shared understanding, though you had love for all three of the boys, Rafe wasn't wrong. The weekends were usually spent with Topper whining about Sarah and Kelce whining about the new girl who he struck out with. You really needed to give them some pointers, but it always fell on deaf ears. They never believed any of your tips. "I'll only go if you say please." You moved to sit up, looking at him with a raised brow as you put the ball in his court. "You know that word is like poison. You're evil." Your shoulders shrugged as you crossed your arms over your chest. You weren't kidding, and he knew it. "Fine. Please come with me oh lovely (Y/N). I will simply die without your presence." His dramatics made you laugh and nod as you leaned in to kiss his lips, taking solace in the warmth and giddiness they provided.

To kiss in cars and downtown bars Was all we needed You drew stars around my scars But now I'm bleedin'

The weekend came and you kept your promise of accompanying Rafe to the bar downtown with the boys. But, you hardly even paid attention to what was happening with the other two. You and Rafe were lost in your own little world, his lips almost always at the shell of your ear as he whispered drunk nothings into it.

"You make me so damn happy." The words caused goosebumps to run along your entire body, your eyes daring to peak up into his. His pupils were blown, no doubt the cause of the liquor that he had been drinking since you had walked into the packed bar. But, there was an ounce of truth there that was so raw and so Rafe. He could be tough, he could be scary, but around you he was raw and real. Or, so you thought.

"Any man would be incredibly lucky to have you." His words were beginning to slur as he pulled you into a kiss, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer. The kiss got deeper and more passionate, your hands tangling in his hair and yanking slightly. This was perfect. It was everything you ever needed. "Let's go out to your truck." Your words were breathy and quiet as he gave you a knowing smirk. He took your hand and told Kelce and Topper he would be back; which earned a whistle and a wink from the other two. "Use a condom! We don't need anymore of you two." Oh, Kelce. Always the PTA mom when it came to you.

You brushed the two of them off as you walked out to the truck and Rafe helped you inside, the kisses shared enough to make your head spin. "I've never done this before." The words were a quiet and shameful confession as the kisses got more heated and the lines between friends and more started to blur. "I got you. Don't worry." His words were whispered into your neck as you felt euphoria start to take over. You had never felt anything like what Rafe was showing you right now. "You're so beautiful."

That was the night that Rafe took everything from you and you willingly let it happen. You let the lines blur, you let the alcohol and the pleasure take over your every instinct that was yelling at you this was dangerous. You knew he was a player, but maybe he was changing. Maybe he would want more after this. Maybe. Maybe..

'Cause I knew you Steppin' on the last train Marked me like a bloodstain, I I knew you Tried to change the ending Peter losing Wendy, I I knew you Leavin' like a father Running like water, I And when you are young, they assume you know nothing

Boy, you could not have been more wrong. After Rafe took your virginity that night, it seemed as if something clicked in his brain that you guys went too far. He was more distant and unavailable.

That was until Sofia came to town and Rafe fell for her hook line and sinker. He met her at a party and lit up like a little kid on Christmas. You had been standing with him, his arm against your waist as he kept his eyes trained on her. She was moving to the beat in a way that you couldn’t, her eyes locking with Rafe’s. She motioned him over; your stomach dropping as he pushed off the wall and seemed to happily oblige to her request.

His body molded into hers immediately, his lips finding hers as they swayed to the tone of the music together. It was sickening for you to watch, bile rising up in your throat as you decided to walk outside. However, he called after you and pulled the new girl over. "(Y/N), wait!" His voice stopped you in your tracks as you gave a fake smile, looking at him expectantly. "This is my best friend, (Y/N). We’ve been best friends since we were practically in diapers." Best friend. The words stung as you recalled the feel of his lips, the taste of his tongue, the feeling of his arms around you. How was that just something best friends did? You knew it wasn't and you all but held back a sob.

"It's so nice to meet you! I'm Sofia." She held her hand out for you and you took it, giving the most awkward hand shake you had ever given. You gave the best fake smile that you could muster up before you excused yourself to go back to your friends.

Throughout the night you could feel his eyes on you as you danced with other guys, having fun despite the circumstances. “What do you think you’re doing?” You heard the all too familiar voice behind you as he pressed a kiss to your neck, his arms snaking around your waist. “I’m dancing and having fun. Where’s Sofia?” The words had a bite to it that you weren’t expecting, but as Rafe’s hips stilled you could tell you caught him off guard.

He licked his lips and turned you towards him, his eyes locking on yours. “She left. What’s with the attitude?” His eyebrows went up and knitted together as he looked you over and tried to read you like a book. He knew you like the back of his hand, or so he thought. He could tell you were upset, but he didn’t realize it was with him. He thought you were just a little buzzed and the alcohol was making you act weird. But, unfortunately for him he was reading the words on the page wrong and it would come back to bite him in the ass. “You we’re just hanging all over her and now you’re here hanging all over me. Is this a joke to you?” Your words exposed your hurt as you glared at the boy that you knew better than anyone, his eyes flashing with confusion.

He ran a hand through his hair as he gnawed on his bottom lip. He wasn’t expecting you to act this way. “Come on, her and I were just having fun. You have no right to act like this.” His words infuriated you as you shook your head and laughed under your breath, of course he was that clueless. “Actually, I do. Fuck you. You can’t have us both like this.” And with that you stormed off, leaving him standing stunned and alone in the middle of the crowded party.

You left, sobbing as you shrunk down against your car outside. This was an absolute nightmare and it was affecting you deep to your core. This was a boy you’ve known for as long as you could remember. He was the one who wiped your tears when you fell. He was always there. "Friends forever." The words echoed in your head as you leaned your head back in frustration, cursing the words the two of you had sworn on as children.

That was the last time you had spoken to him, and now the wound was just as wide open as it was that day.

But I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss I knew you'd haunt all of my what-ifs The smell of smoke would hang around this long 'Cause I knew everything when I was young I knew I'd curse you for the longest time Chasin' shadows in the grocery line I knew you'd miss me once the thrill expired And you'd be standin' in my front porch light And I knew you'd come back to me You'd come back to me And you'd come back to me And you'd come back

The sounds of the party had faded into the distance as you sat outside, head in your hands. Everything felt like it was a bad dream and you prayed that you could wake up from it. You wished you and Rafe had never started to get physical because that was when things got confusing. That was when feelings erupted and burst through the surface on your end. But, what if things had worked out? What if he had felt the same way about you?

The feeling of his lips still haunted your memory, a ghastly reminder of the impact the boy had on your life and your body. He was in your life for so long and then he was just gone, a faint memory of good times etched into your memory. It was like the faint smell of fire after a kegger, it lingered on your clothes and in your hair until you washed it off. But, it still always felt like it was there.

"He's an idiot for doing that to you. He'll be back once he realizes what he's missing out on." The talk you had with Sarah was resonating in your mind as you stared up at the stars of the backyard, their twinkling bringing a small sense of comfort as you let out a breath you did not realize you were holding.

"Hey." You swore you were hallucinating his voice and you actually prayed that you were. You didn't want to face him. You didn't want to see his pretty eyes, or see his shit eating grin that could light up the entirety of a room in an instant. No, that was your kryponite. That was the absolute thing that could make you break no matter what else was going on in your life. But, as you turned around and saw that exact sight, you knew you were in trouble.

"Shouldn't you be inside with your new girlfriend?" The words were pointed like a spear and you hoped it would wound him and cut deep. But, you knew he would never outwardly show if you did. However, the clearing of his throat was enough to show that they had at least pierced through the surface. "She's not my- That isn't important right now." You rolled your eyes as you stood up, looking up at his towering figure in front of you.

"Really, Rafe? Because she seemed pretty damn important when you completely forgot about me for her." Your voice was rising and you felt tears prickling at the waterline of your eyes, the big droplets falling down your cheeks. He was only back because he was bored of Sofia, you knew it. That had to be it. "She was a damn distraction." He was getting stressed, he was rubbing the palms of his hands against his jeans in a way that he thought you wouldn't see. But, unfortunately for him you did. "A distraction from what?" You hated how you took the bait and you also hated how he was walking closer.

His movements were slow and cautious as his hand moved under your chin, tilting your head up to his. "You." The single word answer was not what you were expecting, confusion crossing your face as you tried to read his reaction. "I fucking fell for you and I was afraid of fucking it up." His voice was saying all the things you ever wanted to hear, and yet you couldn't take them at face value. He had taken your virginity and dipped. He had abandoned you. He had left, after everything he had told you. And, you weren't ready to forgive him. You didn't think you could do that yet.

You just chuckled and shook your head, taking a step back. "I chased the ghost of our friendship around a graveyard of memories for the last month, Rafe. I'm not ready to forgive you just because you come spewing words about falling for me. For all I know, it could be a lie." Your words were not what he was expecting, that was obvious by the look in his eyes.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" His words were almost laughable at the rate of desperation that they were bred out of. It was a scared look, it was a flashback to growing up together, it was the feeling in his chest whenever you were around. It was the happiness that your laugh brought him, the bottle of your perfume he always kept in his car, the clothes of yours he kept in his dresser drawer. It was everything, you were the sun and the moon and all the stars. You were the entirety of his universe and now you were pushing everything into a black hole because he fucked up. That, in itself was enough to feel like death to him and he hated the fact that he messed up this bad.

"I don't know, Rafe. I'll let you know if I ever figure it out. Now, if you'll excuse me I have a party to get back too." And with that he watched you walk away, your head high and proud and your tears no longer falling for the boy and what could have been. You knew this would be better. You knew you deserved more than feeling like second best. You deserved the world, and you weren't going to have it given to you on someone else's time.

[arson4kids]

𝒜𝓇𝓂𝓎 𝒟𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝑒𝓇𝓈 ⋆

warnings: sorry y'all this fic is ANGSTY, multi-part series (it's gonna get better trust), bad writing (sue me), mentions of heavy drinking & (light) drug use, mentions of depression, mentions of blood & death, PTSD/panic attacks, ellie needs a hug, more closed off ellie and reader, ellie and reader were never really friends, reader isn't masc or fem (sorry), eventual smut. NOT PROOF READ.

wc: 1620

approx. read time: 12.5 minutes

a/n: sorry i disappeared to those who follow me/read my fics on occasion. i've had zero motivation to write lately. this is more to set the stage for the rest of the series so there isn't much dialog. go easy on me yall i barely write stuff on here.

synopsis: Ellie, having been gone in Santa Barbara for so long, doesn't get the warm welcome she was hoping for. In fact, she's become more of a stranger in her own home that she wonders if she should have never come back. Without means of escape from this new hellish reality...she turns to you for help.

The day she came back couldn't have gone worse. Everyone thought she had died, and you were starting to wonder if people wished she did. Her arrival into Jackson was met with nothing but hostility. Dina refused to speak to her, let alone look at her. The sight was surely something to behold. A once beloved member of the small survivor's community now shunned and shut out. You couldn't say you were surprised.

The day she had left Dina had taken up her things and her young son and marched right back into Jackson. She wasted no time telling everyone exactly what happened. It was safe to say Tommy and Maria didn't last long after that. People stopped regarding Ellie as a mourning girl trying to find closure. She was looking more and more like a monster in the eyes of the town the longer time passed. People began to blame her for the death of Jesse and Dina's growing depression. Some people even came to blame her for Tommy and Maria's separation. The town was already in shambles before she came back. And it was safe to say her return didn't help.

Now, you couldn't say you knew her personally. Sure the two of you hung out and got drunk on occasion after patrols. She would invite you over every once in a while to watch cheesy action movies with her. You'd help her in the stables when she needed it. You considered her a friend of sorts, but you two weren't close by any means. You couldn't even recall her favorite colour. But that didn't prove to soothe the dull ache in your chest as Maria yelled at her openly out in the town's square. You swore you saw a tear drop from the auburn haired girl's eye. She had gone through so much, but who were you to comfort her? That wouldn't get you anywhere. Once Maria finished speaking Ellie held her head up despite everything, marching past you and the others without a second glance. You didn't know how long this would last. Hopefully not long.

.

.

.

Despite her efforts, she couldn't do anything anymore. She was forbidden to go on patrols. Maria even refused to put her on farming rotation. She was forced to live fully isolated from everybody. Even when she did leave the house, nobody treated her like they once did. A passing glance from an older woman. Children bowing their heads and diverting their gazes. Dina pulled her curtains shut when Ellie so much as looked in her direction. Even Kat was avoiding her like the plague. So when you were the last one on the block that wasn't turning and running...you gave her a small smile.

At first, she didn't seem to care. She'd bow her head or give you a small nod. Possibly a passing grunt. But as time went on she began warming up to you. Maybe it was because she had no one else. Maybe she was desperate. Whatever it was, you were all she had. Well, not really. All she had in her mind was her whiskey and her thoughts to keep her company. You could smell it on her breath when she walked by. You could sometimes even pick up traces of...weed? Was she ever sober anymore? You doubted it. You almost couldn't blame her.

The days began to fade into weeks and Ellie got no better. She barely left the house anymore, when she did it was merely to get wasted and go back home. You could feel your stomach twisting into knots whenever you saw her stumbling back out onto the streets some afternoons after your patrol. She barely looked like herself anymore. She was thin. Her once fair skin now holding a sickly glow to it. The circles under her eyes only got darker the more she drank. She'd surely drink herself straight to the grave at this rate. Could she even care? You couldn't be sure.

Despite your friend urging you not to, you followed the pale girl into the bar one evening. You had to see the end of this. You couldn't give a flying fuck what people thought about you after this. You weren't going to sit by and watch this once spirited girl drink herself away just because everyone else could. How could you live with yourself if you did?

It didn't take you very long to spot her once you were in there. The bar was mostly empty as it usually was on weekdays, only a few drunk men were silently slumped over tables or aimlessly chatting each other up. The dull buzz of conversation didn't distract you as you watched her sitting alone in the back corner. Her hand on her cheek, she sat silently as she tried to eat some crackers, an already empty glass of whiskey by her left hand. The sight was so pitiful in itself you almost couldn't watch.

Taking a deep breath and forcing all your doubts aside, you slowly approached her table. Her eyes were quick to follow you even before you got close enough to speak. It made you uneasy as you took the seat across from her. She furrowed her brow, maybe out of confusion. You couldn't tell. You quickly cleared your throat to hopefully ease the sudden tension between the two of you. It hung heavily in the air, much like the smoke of an old cigar. Overbearing. Suffocating.

"Hey." You finally forced yourself to choke out, trying to play it cool. Ellie set her cracker aside, meeting your gaze.

"Hey." She replied, her tone much like yours. Unsure. You felt bad for her. How could you not.

"How's it going?" You asked, as if it wasn't already obvious. You wanted to kick yourself as you heard the auburn haired girl scoff and straighten herself out in her chair. You half expected her to yell at you and tell you to leave her alone so her response caught you off guard.

"Y'know. Just great." She laughed bitterly. Your heart swelled with guilt. Maybe this went deeper than you thought.

"Do you maybe want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

You thought a moment before responding, swallowing a lump in your throat you didn't even know was there.

"What happened...out there."

Ellie furrowed her brow as you spoke. You could hear her tapping her heal against the cool wooden floor of the bar.

"You mean in Santa Barbara?" Ellie simply shook her head.

"I don't think so."

Her response, while you were slightly disappointed, was expected. You didn't expect her to open up to you.

"Well is there anything I can do so you don't have to do this?" You asked, gesturing to the empty glass of whiskey. Ellie glanced up at you. She almost seemed surprised you brought it up. A nervous pit formed in your stomach as the silence returned. Her sudden shift in attitude told you all that you had to know. She couldn't trust you. And you wouldn't force her to. You stood to leave and almost yelped when you felt a sudden warm hand clasp around your wrist. You were saddened when you met Ellie's near desperate gaze when you looked back over to her. Her grip on you tightened as her eyes suddenly welled up with tears.

"Please..." She nearly whimpered. "Don't leave me alone."

You never expected this from her, considering how aloof she was normally. You gently loosened her grip on your arm.

"Do you want to come home with me? We can watch Jurassic Park or some shit."

.

.

.

When you invited her back to watch a movie, you didn't think it'd end with her sobbing into your chest as she spilled all the gruesome details of the past few years to you. She told you about Joel's death and how that led to the events of Seattle, her time at the farm with Dina and how she thought she would stay there forever before she left for Santa Barbara. With each of her hot tears against your skin brought a new story from her. You almost thought she was having a panic attack thanks to how much and how long she had been sobbing. You didn't have the heart to stop her. All you could do is hold her against you and hope that you were providing her with a small amount of comfort just by being there. You would have sat up with her all night if she asked you to. You almost did until the poor girl ended up falling asleep right in your arms from sheer exhaustion. You didn't have the heart to push her away.

.

.

.

From that night on, Ellie stayed with you. She had made herself at home slowly in your guest bedroom. She finally started to heal. People were starting to lessen up on her, even if it was only slightly. That almost didn't matter to her anymore thanks to your ongoing support. She even had the chance to formally talk to Dina and see her son again. All of this started to lull Ellie into a form of peace she never thought she'd reach again. It brought you peace as well.

While all of this was going on, you couldn't help but notice how much closer Ellie was getting to you. It started with friendly greetings and holding your hand to her talking to you late at night while she played with your hair. You were stating to question what she meant to you. What you meant to her. You almost felt guilty for thinking you were anything more than just a friend to her. But, only time could tell, right?

[sissytobitch10seconds]

One-Way Mirror: New Divide

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Summary: The apocalypse is finally over, leaving Five and Viktor to wait for Lila to finish helping the Commission. Things are different in the universe that they've wound up in, but they're going to handle it. They have each other. Warnings: Transphobic comments/misgendering, mentions of suicidal ideation and past suicide attempts, canon typical violence, and pregnancy Word Count: 23,721 (2,684 post on tumblr) Ship(s): Lila Pitts/Viktor Hargreeves/Five Hargreeves

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A/N: So if you've been reading the other works in this story you might have noticed that this fic is shorter than the others by about 7-10k and that's because I didn't want to rewrite as much as I had when I wrote them. I wanted to get this out before S4 came out even though that's almost a year away just to make sure I didn't forget, but I was also kind of burned out. I felt like a lot of the stuff in this season didn't need to be rewritten but I didn't add as many scenes as I usually do and I apologize for that. If you're sad that there won't be more fiktorla content after this then there's a high chance I will write some more elsewhere that isn't related to this rewrite. Thank you all so much for reading! Stay sissy and bitchy everyone &lt;3

They appeared back in the home that had been a prison to them for years, but now it seemed like the most wonderful place that any of them could be. They were all in pain from the fight that they had just endured and the stressful situation that they had just escaped, but it was clear that relief was heavy within the group. “Oh, we’re finally home!” Klaus clapped his hands above his head as he turned in a circle, as if trying to make sure that the building they were in was really their childhood home.

“Wait, wait, what’s the date?” Five asked. He set down the briefcase that had brought them there and then lurched for the newspaper on the table. He picked it up and flipped it over to reveal the date, which made his shoulders slump in relief. “April second, we’ve finally evaded the apocalypse.”

“I mean, it makes sense. The Handler was the one that set the whole thing up and we killed her back in the sixties. What with the time traveling causing some problems I’m not one hundred percent sure that it clears it up, but if she died back then it’s going to be hard for her to come forward and then drug me again,” Viktor said. He brought the side of his thumb up to his mouth so that he could bite at the skin there to help soothe his nerves. 

Five reached over and grasped his hand, threading their fingers together to give him something else to focus on. “We’ll figure it out. There’s bound to be changes in the timeline because of everything that we did back in the sixties and the fact that we had an interaction with Dad before he was ever supposed to meet us, but we’re going to take it one step at a time.”

“Screw taking things one step at a time, I’m going to get so wasted,” Klaus laughed as he staggered towards the living room where their father’s wet bar was.

The rest of the siblings followed after him as none of them really wanted to be apart from each other after everything that had happened. Viktor detached from Five and fell back so that he was walking beside Allison. “Are you okay? I can’t imagine how awful it must be to have to leave someone you love that much behind, even if it was for his own good,” he said, his voice soft and compassionate.

“I don’t even know if it really was for his own good,” Allison let out a short laugh. “I mean, do you know how awful it is to be a person of color back then? I couldn’t walk down the street to my own home without being afraid of every little sound that I heard.”

“I’m so sorry that you had to go through that,” Viktor whispered. “Of course I don’t know what it’s like to be a person of color in any time period, I’ve always been white, but the sixties were a shit time to be any minority. I thought that I was actually insane for a while until Diego managed to drill it into me that I was normal and they were the wrong ones. There are only so many times you can have someone scream in your face that being a boy trapped in a girl’s body isn’t something that actually exists before you start to believe it.”

Allison turned to him, her face soft. “That’s awful, Viktor. I’m glad that Diego was there to help you so that you had someone like I did. Hopefully we never have to deal with something like that ever again.”

“Yeah,” Viktor nodded in agreement. “And if we do, we should try to stick together. We minorities have to have some kind of solidarity even if the way that we’re hated is different.”

She beamed and nodded, knocking their shoulders together playfully. Viktor hoped that she would trust him enough to come to him if she needed something, that he could actually help her. It was true that their experiences in the sixties were very different, since she had been there longer, a woman of color, and actually out in the real world while Viktor was white, trans, and locked away in a mental asylum, but they still shared things that helped them understand each other better. While they hadn’t gotten along very well as children, there was plenty of time for that to change. They were adults now, with developed emotions and flourishing lives that they were both obviously eager to get back to.

Klaus had just gotten up to the cabinet full of liquor when Five noticed that their father was sitting in a chair by the fireplace with a copy of the daily newspaper in his hand. Just as he noticed this, Luther walked up behind him and said, “Hey why is there a portrait of Ben on the mantlepiece?”

“I knew that the six of you would be coming back someday,” Reginald said as he neatly folded the paper up and then stood to face them. It was a chilling experience, being face-to-face with their father again after so long had passed for them. This version of their father also knew who they were more than the one in the sixties had, which brought a whole host of issues by itself.

“Hey Dad, you’re not dead,” Klaus laughed as he walked up beside his siblings with a whiskey bottle clenched in his hands. 

“No, why would I be?” Reginald asked as he looked over all of them with that judgemental eye like he had done throughout their entire childhoods.

“No, no reason,” Luther said as he took a step forward so that he was in front of the rest of the group. Allison and Viktor had also fallen in line with their siblings, on edge now that their father was alive unlike he had been the last time they had been here. He turned and glanced at the rest of his siblings for a moment. “I guess we’re just glad to be home.”

“This isn’t your home,” Reginald shook his head.

“What are you talking about?” Allison asked, her voice pitching slightly. Five glanced at her with a wary eye. He had spent a lot of time with people that had been displaced from their homes and their families when they got recruited to be a part of the Commission. He also knew that she had given up her happy life as a civil right’s activist with a husband that she loved very much in the hopes that they would be able to return to a future where everything was the way that they had left it minus an apocalypse or two, so it had to be stressful for her to even have an inclining that the world wasn’t what she was expecting. Her want to stay in a time where she didn’t belong that was actively messing up the timeline was the reason that he had urged her to come with them but had specifically made sure that he didn’t promise anything from the future they were heading to.

Allison let out a breathless laugh as she gestured widely around her, “This is the Umbrella Academy.”

“No, it’s not,” Reginald laughed. “This is the Sparrow Academy. After your show in Dallas, I made sure to seek out children like you that weren’t you. I did a shoddy job in the other timeline raising you, so I corrected those mistakes.”

Someone walked up behind them, which caused them to flip around so that they were looking at who it was. They were all hyper-aware of what was happening around them as their instincts and training kicked in.

Viktor felt all of the blood drain from his face as he realized that the individual that had walked up behind them was none other than Ben. He looked a lot different than he had the last time that the man had seen him. He was fully realized, solid in a way that a ghost couldn’t be even in the world of Viktor’s mind. He was wearing a maroon jacket with blue piping, which matched the blue vest and tie. Ben also had a massive scar down the side of his face, trailing from the lowest part of his hair all the way down his cheekbone. His hair was cut short and spiked upward, a style that the Ben they knew would have never had.

“Ben?” Klaus asked, his eyes going wide. 

Five and Viktor glanced at each other, both understanding what their brother was going through. It had to be difficult to be best friends with a person for their entire unlife and then to lose them, only for another version of them to pop up in the universe that no one knew anything about.

“Nice hat, sundance,” the Ben in front of them sneered. 

That alone confirmed that it was an entirely different person than the one that they had grown up with. Their Ben was kind and compassionate, even if he had a sharp tongue and the ability to pick out someone’s flaws with deadly accuracy. The man in front of them probably hadn’t stepped foot into a library since he needed to study for school and their Ben wouldn’t be caught dead without a book within twenty feet of him.

“Oh, thank you,” Klaus beamed as he touched the brim of the black cowboy hat. Klaus had always been really bad at picking up on social cues, though.

“W-wait, this isn’t possible. This is the Umbrella Academy, we grew up here,” Allison shouted, beginning to get obviously more and more upset.

“Uh, I think we would have noticed you,” one of the other superheroes snorted. The rest of the other Academy had made their way down to the ground floor so that they were standing in front of the others.

Ben leaned around them so that he was speaking to their father, “Dad, who are these freaks?”

Reginald was already packing up what he had been doing so that he could vacate the room. That in and of itself was odd, since their father had always been somewhat present during the missions that Five had been sent on so that he could see their progress in real time for his log book. “They call themselves the Umbrella Academy. Smelly, ill-manner, perfidious malcontents.”

“Well that’s just not true,” Viktor said quickly. He didn’t enjoy being insulted, especially since he had just spent the last month or so being told that he was wrong, dirty, and shameful. 

“Yeah, we’re ameteur-fidious at best,” Klaus defended.

“Klaus,” Diego hissed to try and make his brother shut up before they got in even more trouble than they were already in.

“I think it would be best if you left our house,” the man that was seemingly the leader of the Sparrows took a step forward so that he was standing in front of Luther. 

“You mean our house,” Luther replied.

Viktor felt a familiar anxiety setting into the base of his stomach. It was a feeling that he got often as a child when he knew that his siblings were about to start a fight with each other. That usually resulted in their father punishing everyone but Viktor, since Viktor had no powers and thus wasn’t a real member of the Academy, which then resulted in everyone hating Viktor more than they had when the day started. Things were different now, but he had a feeling that it was still going to go sour very quickly.

“I guess we just have to settle this the old fashioned way, then, don’t we?” the leader of the Sparrows asked as he approached Luther once more. 

The first punch was thrown before anyone else could say something to stop them from fighting, not that Viktor was even planning on trying. Immediately after, fighting broke out between everyone there.

The siblings all scattered as they tried to deal with the superhero team that was attacking them. Diego launched towards the floating, mocking cube with one of his knives already clutched in his hand. Luther was duking it out with the other leader of the Academy. Viktor darted to the side to try and get away but was followed by the same woman that had spit on Diego when all of the negotiations first started. Five teleported away to deal with some of the other members just as Allison lurched after the woman in glasses. They were outnumbered seven to six, but they were also feral with anger and fear so they were holding their ground relatively well.

Five found himself standing up on the landing in front of the woman that had initially gone after his boyfriend, something that made him see white hot rage right behind his eyes. He lurched forward with his hand balled up in a fist and before she had the chance to react, he teleported behind her and then clocked her across the face. Despite not knowing what his powers were, she still turned around and then spit on him before she crumbled down to the ground like a wet paper sack.

“Gross,” Five whispered as he swiped his hand across his face to try and get rid of the saliva, but he found that there was nothing there. His body began to lock up like it did when Allison’s rumors took hold of him and he was transported to somewhere that he had only seen once before.

He was standing in the living room of the apartment that Viktor and Lila had been living in when he had finally managed to find his way back to them. All of the items that had been strewn about the shelves and the walls were packed up in boxes that were huddled close to the door. He turned around in a circle and saw that the kitchen and bedroom down the hall were also packed up in much the same way. “What’s going on?” he asked, though the words felt like they were being muttered underwater.

Lila was there, then, standing at his side with her fingers threaded together with his. He turned his head to the side and saw the small bump that was protruding from her stomach and the dopey smile spread over her face. Five felt his heart jump up into his chest as he realized that she was pregnant, they were moving because she was pregnant. He didn’t know how to feel about that, that she and Viktor had so readily moved on without him. “You know, when you said that you were going to make Luther and Diego have a pissing contest so that we didn’t have to carry any of the boxes I thought that you were lying,” she let out a little chuckle. “You were right, though, this does work way better.”

“Cars packed up, babe,” Viktor said as he appeared in the doorway. He walked over to them and then kissed them both slowly, languidly. “Are you ready to move onto the next step in our lives?”

“Yes, Gods above, yes,” Five whispered as he reached up with his free hand to cup Viktor’s cheek and kiss him harder.

A moment later the mirage melted away like ice on a hot sidewalk, removing itself from his eyes so that he was left standing directly where he had been before. He tried to ignore the way that his heart ached in his chest at the idea of that not being the world that he lived in. He didn’t want to be reminded of all the mistakes that he had made that resulted in this being the reality they were now stuck in.

He darted through the house to distract himself with more fighting until he could get his siblings out and safe. He chose to put the memory of what could have been had he just stopped the first apocalypse into the part of his mind where he never went, forgetting it entirely.

[rosalinrabbit]

Over - Pollination

Pairing: Morpheus x Nymph!Fem!Reader 

Warnings: Smut, sex, oral sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, sex pollen/sex drugs, drugging/spiking, slight non-con (reader isn't exactly sober/of sound mind...), cum obsession, begging.

Summary:  Desire has a fondness for trouble, but perhaps just this once, their goal is a little less nefarious. As their brother Morpheus, Dream of the Endless continues to shut himself off from everyone and refuses to let himself be happy, Desire sets a plan in motion. A plan that will only have one outcome, for Morpheus would never let you struggle alone.

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: A super smutty one-shot in honor of our favorite King of the Dreaming. How can you possibly watch Sandman and not instantly become obsessed with this lovely man? I adore him.

In terms of new stories, I have been super busy but written A TON, but I don't like uploading multi-chapter fics until they are finished for editing/not abandoning and leaving everyone suffering purposes! Please bear with me, I hope to have them out soon.

SMUT 18+ / Minors DNI

Do not translate or re-upload any of my work. Works are only cross-posted on AO3.

Morpheus was interrupted from his work by a knock at the door.

“Come in,” he sighed, reluctant to have to speak to anyone. He only grew more annoyed when he laid eyes on his sibling as they entered the room, slinking about with that stupid grin on their face. “Why are you here?”

“What, I can’t visit my brother?”

“You never just visit. Why are you here.”

Desire smirked and leaned against the wall by Dream’s desk. Annoyed eyes narrowed at them, trying to discern the purpose of their visit.

“Death and I had a little chat the other day. And you know what she told me? She said that you’d gotten yourself a pet.”

“You mean Matthew? He’s hardly a pet.”

“No, not that stupid bird, I’m referring to your little nymph. The one that Death found, all lost and scared and without a home,” Desire said in a slightly mocking tone.

Morpheus’s jaw tightened at the mention of the you. “Do not refer to her in such a way. And do not mock the tragedy that befell her or her home. Death found her and her home was destroyed, she had no where else to go. I agreed to let her live here. That’s that.”

“Well, anyway,” Desire waved in the air, dismissing their brother’s disdain towards their attitude. “She’s very cute. Very sweet. I think you two would make quite the pair…” Morpheus said nothing as he continued to stare down his sibling who rambled on.

When it was clear Desire would not leave until he gave in to whatever it was they wanted, he responded. “She is very dear to me, but we are friends. Please don’t read into things.”

“You’re quite thick in the head, did you know that, brother? Which is why, sometimes, I think it’s best to force your hand…”

Morpheus stood up from his desk abruptly. “What did you do?” He asked in a low, stern tone.

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Desire winked. “Goodbye, brother!” They called as they left, likely returning to their own realm now that they’ve succeeded in causing trouble.

Dream of the endless tried to sit back down and go back to his work, but it was hardly an hour after his sibling left that two palace staff came rushing into his office.

“Sir, It’s y/n…. She- she um…” one of them spoke, panting from how quickly they had ran in and clearly unsure how to phrase it.

Morpheus simply stood up and headed towards your chambers, walking at a quick pace.

He heard a strange, high-pitched whimper coming from your door as he approached it, as well as the sight of vines and leaves creeping out from the cracks in the door. He swung open the door quickly to see you writhing in your bed at the far end of the room with the plants you kept growing and twisting around the furniture and up the walls.

The palace doctor was trying to examine you but you wouldn’t quit moving. Morpheus shut the door behind him and crossed the room to where you were, looking to the doctor for answers.

“What happened?”

The doctor turned to him and pushed her glasses up slightly, sighing. “It would appear that she has been given a drug which has greatly increased her libido. It’s like she’s gone into heat, her temperature is increased and her mind is all mixed up. According to Lucienne, she collapsed in the library after being seen with Desire… I think you can guess who is responsible.”

Morpheus’s pale face nearly reddened at the doctor’s words, and his eyes trailed down to you. Your face was flushed red and your eyes squeezed shut, a few tears escaping down your cheeks, and both your hands gripping the sheet that had been laid over your body, threatening the sheet to fall and exposing your breasts.

He quickly reached over to you and pulled the sheet up, and felt your hands gently wrap around his arm as he did so, refusing to let him go. You hummed in contentment through small sobs, eyes still closed yet savoring the contact.

Morpheus had been around a very long time. Of course he knew how to fix it, but he didn’t know if he could possibly overcome his own fears of doing so. He was terrified of letting you get close, and even more terrified of losing you.

“It should wear off in two days without anyone intervening, it’s just going to be a bit painful for her… If there is intervention, it could wear off in a couple of hours to a day. Unfortunately, there’s nothing else I can do for her… so I’ll be on my way,” the doctor gave Morpheus a look before leaving the room, making a point to lock the door behind her.

He sighed, looking down at you. Gods, he thought you were gorgeous. Even in your delirious state your hair shone and your skin looked as soft as silk.

You had been living together for a few years now, and he considered you a good friend despite his reluctance to allow you to live in the Dreaming. It was Death who had convinced him.

Death impressed upon him the importance of nature, the value of giving humans dreams and visions of lush greenery and delicate flowers. It was the lack of appreciation for those things that left you without a home, weakened and alone.

You were so good to him, and he appreciated you deeply. You somehow always knew when he was in a mood, when he needed to talk, when he just needed company. For the most part, you seemed to keep to yourself, crafting those visions of nature for the humans and filling children’s dreams with butterflies. You fit right into the Dreaming, effortlessly.

As you clung to his arm, he gently moved his other hand to push hair from your face. A small gasp escaped your lips, and experimentally, Morpheus cupped your cheek, stroking his thumb across your skin. Your eyes fluttered open, more tears escaping, and you sighed at the contact.

“Morpheus,” you whined, trying to grip his arm tighter and pull him closer.

“Little one,” he whispered to you, knowing how your heart skipped a beat when he called you that. You never told him how much you liked it, how it made you feel as though you were under his protection, but he knew. “What’s wrong?”

“Too hot,” you gasped, and it was painfully true. It felt like you had caught on fire, clenching your thighs together as you felt wetness seeping out of you and down your legs. “Hurts so much. Touch me, please,” you moaned. You would normally never ever be so brazen, but your brain wasn’t working quite right and the only thing you wanted was the gorgeous god next to you to rearrange your insides.

You felt your muscles cramp again, letting out a heady moan as more slick left your entrance and the vines around the room twisted up another few inches. You could never quite control the plant growth when your emotions were running rampant.

His thumb that had been gently rubbing against your cheek slowly edged towards your lips, and without second thought, you opened your mouth, your tongue curling around the digit and sucking on it. The black haired god sat down on the bed beside you, staring into your eyes intensely.

Those grey eyes were filled with indecision and restraint. Trying to assure him, you asked again. “Please, please, touch me, Morpheus. I need you,” you pulled down the sheet covering your breasts and grabbed his hand, licking and pressing kisses against his wrists.

Morpheus knew as soon as the doctor told him what had overcome you that this would only end in one way. He cared too much to lock you in here and let you suffer alone, and he was far too infatuated with you not to take the opportunity to bring you to several mind-numbing orgasms. Especially if you would be in pain otherwise. He might be a god, but Morpheus felt powerless against you. He knew he’d do anything for you.

You watched his eyes as his resolve broke, pulling his arm away and yanking the sheet entirely off your body. The cool air of the room felt better against your feverish skin, but you burned under his intense gaze, his hand ran over your skin, across your breast and down to the curve of your hips, before stopping. You whimpered, and his hand finally glided over towards your legs, up your thigh feeling the liquid that had been dripping out of you. A strange, low growl emitted from his throat as he felt just how wet you were, and you nearly cried when he finally touched your center, fingers circling through the wetness and around your clit.

“Shh, good girl,” he whispered as you moaned wantonly with his fingers on you, desperate to cum in any way you can get. “Does that feel better?”

“Mhm, so much better,” you sighed, trying to move your hips against him. His long fingers suddenly breached into your pussy and slid in with ease, curling up over and over again, making your body feel like it was being wound up impossibly tight. “Oh, gods, please,” you moaned as he continued curling his fingers slowly inside of you, the slow pace torturous yet making the buildup even more intense before you shattered, crying out his name and squirting liquid onto his hand as your legs shook and your pussy convulsed around his fingers.

The orgasm took the burning, painful heat away and took the edge off of the pain you had felt, leaving you warm and buzzing as the aftershocks rolled through you. Morpheus pulled his fingers out of you and his clothes were gone in an instant, climbing over you and claiming your lips with his own in a messy, heated kiss.

You kissed back fervently, feeling the needy heat inside of you flare back up as you wrapped your arms over his shoulders, whimpering into his perfect mouth and rubbing against his leg that was now between your own.

“You’re being so good for me, darling,” he told you in that seductive voice which had always affected you even when you didn’t want to admit it. His voice sounded like pure comfort and sin.

“Oh!” You gasped when his mouth came into contact with the spot under your ear, nibbling down and making you feel like you could burst at any second again.

You watched in awe as he worked his way down your body, clutching the sheets beneath you when his mouth sucked and gently bit on your nipple, giving attention to the other one as well before continuing down back to your center, eyes locked on you as he began to place kisses on the inside of your thighs.

When you felt his tongue part your soaked folds you were convinced that you must be dreaming. But you weren’t, and the man between your legs was the one responsible for all dreams in the first place. No, it was all shockingly real, and every time his tongue swirled your sensitive clit, the warmth added even more pleasure as he worked you back up to your peak.

He paused, and you felt a hand grip your breast as he spoke. “Look at me, y/n.” As if he needed you to see it was him bringing you pleasure. It was him you revered, him who was making you see stars, and you of course complied, looking down to see his ever-messy black hair slightly covering his eyes as he looked at you.

The sight of him between your legs mixing with the look of pure power he was giving you as he sucked your clit made you cry out his name as you came once more, juices dripping down his chin as you gushed and your walls clenched around nothing, his name coming out in pants through your overwhelming pleasure. When he finally ceased his movements his hands both gripped your thighs as he sat up, looking down at you. Your hair was messy and your eyes were beginning to glaze over in ecstasy.

Morpheus often wondered how you looked so perfect, so effortlessly beautiful. Perhaps it was because you were simply of nature, a nymph made to protect and nurture, sweet by mere creation. Now, looking at you in your post-orgasm haze, he realized he hadn’t been appreciative enough of you. You were beyond perfection, made of pure wonder, better than anything he could ever imagine. And now, you were under him. You were his, looking up at him as if he was the only important thing in the world.

How had he waited this long?

Perhaps, despite Morpheus’s disdain for the pain the condition was causing you, Desire’s meddling had worked out well for once. Not that Morpheus would ever let Desire anywhere near you again…

The feeling of his hands gripping your thighs was oddly comforting, making you feel powerless against him. And that’s all you wanted. You wanted him to absolutely ruin you, to pull you apart at the seams and put you back together as his.

Your eyes were skimming across his slender, long body before landing on his cock, erect and leaking, and you let out a whimper at the sight of it alone, moving to sit up and reach for him, but he didn’t allow it, putting a hand on your shoulder to stop you from getting up.

You let out an unhappy noise at the refusal but he quickly reassured you with kisses along the side of your face.

“You’re still burning up, let me take care of you, little one.”

Nodding, you opened your legs for him, but still quickly wrapped a hand around his length and pumped up and down gently, experimentally almost, and watched his eyes flutter closed for a moment as he let out a deep groan.

“Such a needy girl. You need to be filled up? Will that make you stop hurting?”

You nodded again, desperate for him to stop talking and shove himself deep in you already.

“Say what you want,” he taunted in his seductive voice.

“I want you, Morpheus. I want you in me,” you breathed impatiently.

He finally lined his tip up with your entrance, the intrusion warm and causing you to gasp.

As he pushed in, he began to fully stretch you out, causing a slight burn. But the burn felt so right, and you just wanted him deeper. You wanted him everywhere. You wanted to feel like you were so full of him you could burst.

You encouraged him by wriggling your hips against him as he continued to push into you, moaning softly in his ear and he let out a low moan as he finally bottomed out, fully sheathed inside of you. You were incredibly wet and your walls were squeezing him tight, and the overwhelming sensation of finally being inside of you forced Morpheus to pause for a moment so he wouldn’t cum inside you right away.

Before he even started moving you wrapped your legs around his waist and started rocking into him slowly, looking at him with pure lust and moaning in such a lovely, needy way that he had no choice but to give in to you.

He finally started fucking you in earnest, and your nails began to dig into his back as his cock dragged in and out of you, hitting every single spot as he did so and leaving you a mess. You couldn’t stop moaning, losing touch with reality quickly as he tilted your hips up and began thrusting directly into your g-spot, making you nearly scream as you saw stars.

Your eyes were locked on his, in near worship of the way the god was giving you pleasure. Your brain was obsessed with it, still locked on the idea of getting him somehow deeper, desperately yearning for him to cum in you as much as possible. There was nothing but him as his hips thrust into you, a hand moving to your breast to squeeze it roughly.

The thought alone of Morpheus cumming inside of you is what sent you over the edge. You wanted to please him, wanted to keep a part of him in you, wanted him to mark you and use you for his own pleasure.

You cried out through your fog of lust at the intensity of the orgasm, your pussy tightening around his cock and clenching down, you could feel him throbbing inside of you as you came around him and coated his thick cock with your release. Instead of giving you a clear head, the instant pleasure and release from your orgasm only lasted a few moments before you were sent further into hyperdrive.

“Oh, fuck,” Morpheus cursed at your tightness. “Give me one more, darling. One more,” and his hand moved to circle your drenched clit. You cried out, squirming under him.

“Deeper! Please, Morpheus, my lord, fuck me deeper! I need you to fill me with your cum, need it so much,” you babbled, desperate and dead set on being filled with his cum. It was the only thing your brain could think of, being marked, being his, filled to the brim with your king’s white and sticky release, the warmth spreading through your abdomen as it dripped from your soaked core.

Morpheus knew immediately that the drugs were fully affecting your words and desires, but he was quite sure that if he didn’t give you what you wanted, you would remain overheated and desperate and would go to whatever lengths it took to get him to cum inside of you.

He complied, shifting your hips once more to change the angle to reach even deeper, a high-pitched whine escaping from you as he hit your spot perfectly.

“You want me to come inside of you?”

“Yes! Yes, yes, please!” You cried, back arching as you looked up at him in pure desperation.

“How could I ever say no to you? I’ll fill you up so full, mark you, leave you dripping…” your moans grew in volume as he continued, still rubbing your clit. “Do you want that? Want to be so full of my cum that you feel it inside of you?”

Morpheus knew you were beyond words, you were so lost in pleasure that the vines you unknowingly controlled had began to creep onto the bed and wrap around the headboard. With the brutal pace and precision of the way he was fucking you, and the amount of liquid that kept seeping out from your core, he knew you were close.

“Cum for me again, and I’ll cum inside of you, my love. Cum around my cock,” he commanded, and you certainly complied. You gripped the sheets beneath you as you finally let go, sobbing out in your release, feeling like fireworks had gone off in your nerves and gushing around him for the second time. It was so brutally powerful, and even more so when you felt Morpheus’s hips slow as he released inside of you with a deep groan, the warmth coating your insides and filling you with inexplicable contentment. The feeling of him finishing inside of you prolonged your orgasm left you shaking. You felt perfectly full, overjoyed to be claimed by him in such a way, and your needy brain finally quieted giving you peace from the rampant lewd thoughts.

The vines and leaves shrunk away, not dying but reverting to their previous state. The overbearing heat finally left your body leaving you feeling only warm, buzzing, and sated, whispering your thanks to him in a small voice. You felt heavy and your legs felt nearly numb. Morpheus stayed inside of you but shifted your bodies to be on your sides, facing one another. “You were such a good girl for me,” he spoke softly as he pulled you closer. You quickly curled up against his chest and fell asleep, barely aware of your surroundings but feeling safe in the warmth of his arms.

•*•*•*•*•*•

You woke up feeling normal, the cool and fluffy fabric of the comforter against your skin, along with the warmth of Morpheus’s arms.

The man was always so stone-cold and expressionless that you thought he might be cold to the touch, but no, he was pleasantly warm.

Then, confusion hit you. Why were you naked? Why was he naked?

And why was he in your bed??

Your eyes widened and you shifted your head to look up at him. He looked so peaceful, messy hair hanging over his closed eyes, chest rising and falling with each breath.

As you watched him, realization began to wash over you as you remembered what you had done. You shot up in embarrassment and covered your mouth with one hand, using the other to pull the blanket up and cover your exposed breasts. The sudden shift loosened the god’s grip around you and his eyes opened.

“I- My Lord… I am so sorry!” you apologized still covering your face, bright red with embarrassment over your brazen actions.

“What are you sorry for, little one?” He asked with the ghost of a smile on his lips, sitting up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear and pull your hand from your face.

You looked down shamefully, face burning and unable to meet his gaze. “For what I did… earlier…”

“Look at me, y/n.”

When you didn’t comply he reached out to tilt your chin up.

“Do you regret what we did?”

You paused for a moment before shaking your head.

“Well, I do not regret it either,” he spoke in that ever serious voice of his, smooth as velvet and dark as obsidian. He took the hand that was holding the blanket over you and pulled it away, pulling you towards him to settle back against his chest. “Though I do apologize for not doing that sooner.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, and you glanced up to see an obvious smile on Morpheus’s face.

Though an odd turn of events in your relationship with the King of the Dreaming, as you lay in his arms, you could not be happier.

[throwaway-yandere]

Worksheets (Yandere!Alhaitham/Reader)

A/n: What's this, Ansy? Planning on two Alhaitham fics??? Are you not loyal to Dain or Ayat– Speak not, my comrade. Don't tell me that the new Archon Quest wasn't delectable lmao. Also, today was the first time I got a tip, and I??? I've never known happiness quite like that. I'm crying. I will remember you forever, "mommy milkers", I'll dedicate this fic to you ;;-;; (I'm pretty sure I know who you are "*chomp* *chomp*" but that name is entertaining lmao.) On another note, kinda loved how this fic turned out and this is prolly the closest thing I'll ever write to a "lime" lmao.

Unreliable Synopsis: (Student!Alhaitham era) Studying 20 languages is quite an exhausting task. It's a great thing Alhaitham is eager to help his "study buddy".

Cw: yandere themes, implied drugging and non/dubcon. Please don't read this if you're sensitive to the content mentioned. Your mental health matters.

—--------

Alhaitham, like you, is not the type to strike up an amusing discussion while he has a book in his hands. So he laid down his book and decided to take yours as well.

As Akademiya students, you are both bound by a single, exhausting clearance requirement: master 20 languages before graduation. So far, you think you're passable at best on writing romanized Inazuman script and laughable at worst on pronouncing proper Liyue intonations. You can already count yourself as one of the many students that won't see the light of employment next year, but Alhaitham won't let you sulk so readily.

"Time's up. You're done, right?"

He slid the textbook off the table and began flipping through your work.

You didn't reply. Instead, you felt the weight of your head on both palms. It's not that you're unable to reply. You just don't want to admit how illiterate you are in foreign linguistics.

"(Y/n), look at me when I'm speaking."

"I accept my fate." You muttered, soundly defeated. And then, you let yourself rest on the table. "Here lies (Y/n) (L/n). May they finally learn how to pronounce 印 properly in the afterlife."

Alhaitham rolled his eyes.

"Should I help send you off to Aaru Village? Want a proper goodbye from your old study buddy?"

"That would be quite nice, yes."

"Sure. I'll be happy to do that." He stopped flipping through the pages and focused all his attention on you. "If you started acting hysterical and destructive. But you're not. You're just miserable and reserved."

"Thanks for that wonderful assessment, Professor Alhaitham. I'm sure studying neurophilosophy helped you come up with that conclusion. Oh, your brilliance never ceases to surprise me!"

Alhaitham chuckled. His chuckles are almost always short-lived and 100% condescending. 

"(Y/n), language is simply not your forte. But you do wonders in mathematics since we are almost on the same level."

You glared, finally meeting his gaze.

"Must you always brag about yourself whenever you try to cheer me up?"

"Hmm?"

"Lord Kusanali– don't tell me you haven't noticed that about yourself…"

He lightly smacked your head with your textbook. You winced, exaggerating your pain.

"Our conversation isn't about me, it's you. Now, enlighten me, how on earth did you manage to mistake Snezhnayan scripts in a Liyue assignment?"

"E-Eh?!"

You snatched your book back.

"Holy shit. You're right."

You may not like beer, the first time you drank one it tasted funny, but at that moment you decided that once exams are over you're going to get completely inebriated.

Alhaitham watched you reread your work and fondly memorized the way your eyebrows knitted and your eyes skimming through the pages. Your fingers gripped that book as if your life depended on it. That might as well be true knowing your passion for your degree, but he simply wished you will spare part of that zeal for him.

He used to study alone until you showed up. Freshman year was brutal and unkind, but when you insisted on becoming his partner the world had taken on a vibrant hue. Alhaitham never asked for a partner, but your proposal was enticing that he had to say yes. He lied and said he merely wanted to see where this would lead him before, but now he is proud to say he did not regret that decision. It's a shame that your persuasive techniques do not work well with complex Liyue scripts, if they did you would've aced these tests.

"Ugghhh... I hope I get buried raw so I wouldn't have to worry about funeral expenses too..."

Alhaitham did not mind that he's helping you work on your quote-unquote "bane of existence." Students at the Akademiya sometimes fear group work, but he's not one of them. He hopes for one in each subject should it entail that you'll be beside him. Should the assignment be on a frost-prickling mountain, he still wouldn't hesitate to tag along if it meant sharing his cloak and warmth with you. Alhaitham doubts he cares about any other factors. As a friend and intellectual collaborator, you've become irreplaceable.

That's why he won't let you fall behind.

"Chin up." He patted your head like you would a cat. 

"H-Huh?"

"I said chin up," Alhaitham spoke, uncharacteristically soft. "I'll be right here beside you until we graduate."

You smiled, not at all comforted but grateful for the gesture. You sat up straight. "Thanks, Haitham."

When given the option to either comfort or critique, Alhaitham doesn't hesitate to choose the latter. This small moment made you happy. Back then, he used to be rather cold and skilled at getting you off his life. You subconsciously began to grin. Your friend Lisa was right, he softens when he's with you–

"Which is why I'll be sending you additional practice sheets for you to work on," Alhaitham added bluntly, his words dropping like a hammer. "I'm not letting you play games until you perfect writing these scripts."

Your eyes stared coldly back at him.

Nevermind. Forget it. He's the same as he had always been.

"Way to ruin the moment, Future Grand Scribe."

—----

Three days have passed and it's the last day of your dreaded linguistics exams.

Well, that sounds more significant than what it is. It's the last day of ALHAITHAM'S MOCK EXAMS, which is what it actually is, but you can't help but feel nervous as you would in a real graded performance. He takes practice exercises and their punishments very seriously. Last time was just a surprise quiz, so the intensity differed greatly.

Alhaitham took a seat at an adjacent table. He was amusingly dressed in a pair of glasses and an Akademiya professor uniform. You'd mock him for believing in you when you claimed you wanted the exam to be as immersive as possible, but his execution is far too effective for your liking. For crying out loud, he even received the alchemy professor's signed permission to borrow his room!

"For your last test, you need to translate this Liyue text back to Sumeru scripts. I'll give you… 30 minutes for this." He said, adjusting his timer. 

Alhaitham cast a sidelong glance at you, pretending not to see your apprehension. His fingers lingered over the reset and split buttons.

"Are you ready?" 

You felt your palms beginning to sweat.

"S-Sure."

He didn't care what your answer was– no professor would ever wait for a student. Alhaitham flipped the test paper to its front page.

"Timer starts now."

Nervously, you picked up your pen and paper and started reading. Alhaitham left the timer on top of the table and went back to drinking his cup.

Alright, here we go.

Decoding it was simple, at first. The start felt like a canned script for a traditional romantic light novel. You translated the messages back to your native tongue. Then, things started to become a bit complicated.

'I've decided to be entirely honest and truthful in this letter, so I'll start from the very beginning. I used to despise you.'

Your nose scrunched, amused. What an introduction. You pointed your pen in his direction.

"Is our friendship over, Haitham?"

He glared. "Quit talking. 29 minutes and 38 seconds–"

"Alright, alright. Geez."

'But you were so relentless that I couldn't help but cave in. Who wouldn't? You're personable and you share my beliefs about research autonomy. It's difficult to find someone who is an expert at both. You'd know that best.'

'It's pitiful that I can't handle the notion of losing you once this is finished.  Many people do not consider me to be empathic and they frequently misinterpret my lack of emotional expression as a lack of empathy. But you've always been so accepting of me.'

'It's a shame that you left me when morning came. I've never felt solitude quite like that wake-up call.'

You grimaced as you continued to read the rest of the paragraphs. Whoever wrote this must be seriously lovelorn and obsessed because they wrote as if they've hopelessly known that their affections will remain unreciprocated beyond half a decade. 

The author went on to describe how they had watched their beloved enjoy their life blissfully ignorant of the misery they had caused him. Given that Alhaitham creates everything by hand, the stark contrast between the material and his precise letterings does nothing to express the writer's frantic confession.

'I can't get the thought of you out of my mind. It's exhilarating. I've never been this stimulated before I met you.'

'I need you, even after our partnership is over.'

You can't get over how, in Alhaitham's fine handwriting, the author gradually spiraled from unrequited love to an obsession that can't be helped.

'You have qualities that no one else possesses. Traits that I want in a lifelong companion. You taught me things I didn't know I wanted for myself. And you are on top of that list.'

'As you're probably aware, you do have a guardian angel. I sometimes answer your assignments for you. Every morning, I pay for your coffee and leave sticky notes in case you overlook your deadlines. These are all unpaid acts of kindness, but they make me feel like I'm laying a better foundation for a relationship with you.'

'I admit, I don't mind following you around like an affectionate dog every now and then. Your schedule is predictable. You even handed me a duplicate with your new phone number on it. It's both pleasant and difficult for me to watch you from a distance, but what else can I do? Everyone knows I'm rather socially inept for this to play out as smoothly as I'd hope so I had to stoop to this method.'

'At least I learned not to break doors this time."

'Once we both graduate, I might not be able to see you again in my life. We will no longer work together as much as we did before. I wouldn't be able to see you laugh or make excuses just to touch you. I like being near you. Even if you consider me as a one-night stand. Even if you consider me as your biggest mistake.'

You looked at Alhaitham with a face that ridiculed his choice of picking this creepy excerpt. He didn't so much as move and continued sitting at the table, staring at you robotically calm.

You hope this Liyue person has already been apprehended by the Millelith.

You resumed deciphering after deciding to trust whatever bizarre letter Alhaitham had assigned to you. You were beginning to feel sorry for the person Alhaitham obtained the love letter from and its intended recipient... You wouldn't be astonished if Alhaitham pulled this letter from the hands of a mad scholar and deemed it a worthy linguistics exercise.

'You're mine and you will learn to love me. I've already decided on that.'

'I'm sure that declaration is bound to scare you, but I genuinely meant it. I can understand if you react violently. I wouldn't hate you if you tried to contact the authorities, but just know that eremites are useless against me.'

You scowled. Perhaps your study companion wanted you to be wholly aware that translating is not an easy task. If so, you're impressed by his dedication. You'd never read a letter like this again.

Then it got worse.

'That's why I need to take control again.'

'I need you to open your eyes– I need you to know that without me, you cannot survive in a world beyond academics.'

'You need me just as much as I need you, too.'

'So when will you invite me back to Dorm 569?'

You stopped reading and you felt the clip of your pen snap. 

Slowly, you turned the paper to its back. Your eyes were glued to the table, unable to look at your study partner's face.

"Alhaitham…" You laughed sheepishly. "Do… Do you have to go above and beyond writing such a… personal sounding example? You know, the Akademiya doesn't allow plagiarism—especially when it's a creepy love letter."

Being batch-mates with Alhaitham, you're well aware of his eccentricities. And being batch-mates with you helps him pretend that there's nothing creepy about knowing a few minor details too.

But this is… is not one of them.

Alhaitham placed his mug down and began to peek through your worksheets behind you.

"Five minutes left, I'm guessing you're on the last paragraph?" He spoke as if your concerns were nonexistent.

"Of course I'm on the damn last paragraph!!!"

You immediately covered your mouth, looking around the room if you had disturbed others, before being staunchly reminded that you are alone. With him.

It's like reading a horror story at home alone on the weekends. The setting is safe, you trust Alhaitham, but your heart is restless.

Dorm 569. 

It's your dorm number but it's not an innocent suggestion if– when it comes from him. The implication was sinister and cruel. There is a historical context that vastly changes the flow of this conversation. A context that you don't want to address plainly.

"This is just a joke, right?" You gulped dryly. Despite your treacherous nerves, you made a joke. "You're not stalking me, are you?"

He raised an eyebrow.

Alhaitham steadily reduced the gap between you two by holding your chair with both hands. Before you could realize it, he had already closed off all means of escape. You felt his breathing brush against you. Every inch of your body begged for a sprint as his green-orange eyes peered through your soul, calculating as they had always been.

You need to leave.

"You're going to brush off the rest of what you've read and focus on such a minor detail? You're not going to ask if I have feelings for you like a normal person?"

His breath smelled like coffee.

"I would if this fucking letter sounded anywhere close to normal!" You yell-whispered.

You combed your hair back with your fingers, feeling your entire body shaken by his implied agreement. 

"Shit, Alhaitham… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell your ears out– I'm just a bit…" You laughed, sinking your weight on the chair's cross rail but he inched closer, maintaining the distance you had before. "Moved? I'm so bad at vocab, is that the word? Yeah, moved by that love letter, I suppose."

"Don't be sarcastic. You're frightened."

You scoffed.

"D-Duh, making jokes is a coping mechanism. Something you wouldn't relate to, I know."

He didn't move from his position.

You breathed in sharply. "What?"

"You still haven't asked."

"Asked what?"

"If I like you romantically."

"W-Well, you still haven't answered me either."

"Answered what?"

"... Is it true? Are you stalking me?"

He did not hesitate to answer. "In a sense, yes."

What…?

Your stomach flipped at his nonchalant reply. He tilted your chin up. The short distance between you two began to diminish as you felt Alhaitham's hair against your cheek.

"How else would I know your dorm number if I didn't, right?"

You slapped his hand away. "You know what I meant. This isn't funny at all. Please answer me seriously."

"I thought you think of me as a guardian angel. You wanted the truth and I gave you my thoughts." Alhaitham pressed. 

You don't want to believe it.

You don't want to acknowledge that it was someone you trusted who forced you to bed.

"I am stalking you. Tell me– who else would've fucked you senseless that night? Go on, tell me, (Y/n)."

But you knew deep down that it was him.

You shoved him off, but he was stronger than you are. You've seen him in action, he did not lie when fighting eremites are child's play to him. You're his study partner, and you, unfortunately, know him best as he stated in that letter.

Dorm 569. That night was a blur and you've changed rooms since then. Another student, Soraya, began living in your old room. You couldn't bear to visit and see how the freshman was doing. 

You never actively seek parties, and Alhaitham was the same. But one night, you both decided to finally experience the infamous "college life" by attending one. Your brain refused to unfold everything that transpired. Pieces of your conversations occasionally resurface, but they're all mundane yet bitter. Retracing your steps had a major discrepancy from drinking beer to waking up in your dorm with a broken door.

Nothing explained why your study partner was naked beside you, lovingly caressing your hair.

"Were you fantasizing about another man? One of our seniors, perhaps? Are you one of those people who get off on unbalanced relationship dynamics?" 

There was no explanation as to why you woke up screaming. 

And there were no words spoken about it the next time you bumped into each other.

He never mentioned it again.

And you foolishly thought that was the end of it.

"S-Stop…"

"If not our old seniors…  Was it our Ethics professor?"

Your heart dropped.

Alhaitham laughed. His usually calm green-orange eyes that soothed you swirled with what you assumed was jealousy and self-loathing. Two emotions you have not seen before, or at least, did not acknowledge.

You both knew you were scared to face reality. But he doesn't want to play these mind games any longer. Alhaitham already decided on it. You will recall everything. 

His grip on your chin tightened. 

"It's him, correct? I won't forget the way you moaned 'Sir' when I pulled your hair. If I wasn't confident, I wouldn't be wearing this stupid pair of glasses and uniform just to woo you."

You could no longer speak. Alhaitham took it as permission to do anything he wants with you. Just like that night.

His lengthy fingers pinched your inner thigh.

"Then again, I don't think I can keep acting like him. Spiking a drink would be in his list of unforgivable actions I'm sure."

You trembled.

"Still won't answer, (Y/n)? Or would you prefer I call you Mx. (L/n)?"

Alhaitham scoffed, grinning.

"You don't have to answer. We have the classroom all to ourselves to test that hypothesis."

[vigsilantes]

off limits (adrian chase x reader)

Pairing: Adrian Chase / Vigilante x Female Reader Summary: You and Adrian are dressed to the nines on an undercover mission with the team. Someone starts hitting on you and Adrian gets quite jealous of what he sees, hating to see someone look at you the way that he does. A/N: this fic is just me indulging in jealous!adrian, enjoy! (also this is x a female reader!! usually my fics are x a gn reader but this one isn't, just fyi) Word Count: 3.5k Tags: Established Relationship, Reader-Insert, Post-Canon, Idiots in Love, Mission fic, Comfort, Jealousy Warnings: swearing, drinking, guns, killing

~masterlist~ | >>>(read on ao3)<<<

Going undercover for missions was never your forte, but ever since you’ve been working with the 11th Street Kids you’ve been forced to do some undercover jobs. It always felt strange though – not wearing your suit and being in a different costume of some sorts, you felt like you were missing something. Adrian felt the same, he always says that he feels naked without his suit and mask on, and oddly he was right. But alas, sometimes going undercover is necessary, and it’s necessary for the mission tonight. Since everything that went down with the butterflies, a few A.R.G.U.S. agents have left the job, and one of them has been giving away critical information out about illegal drugs for their own gain. They give information about the drugs and get paid for what they say, easy deal. Almost all of these drugs were not human, they were too powerful for the general public, and her giving away the whereabouts of these drugs could lead to very negative consequences.

The mission this evening was to attend a fancy dinner party in Gotham and arrest that former agent. However, from her time at A.R.G.U.S. she knew Harcourt and Economos, and she now knew of Peacemaker from the news. That left you and Adrian, and while she might have been aware of your Vigilante-ing, she didn’t know what either of you looked like. Harcourt was kind of familiar with her, only met her a few times in passing, but this was a tough mission for her. Killing this woman, Vanessa, just wouldn’t sit right with Harcourt, she never killed one of her own if she didn’t need to. But this woman knew too much, and she was giving up too much information, so she had to be stopped.

Gotham was infamous for having luxurious parties for the rich, where the corrupt could mingle and show off their wealth. It was extravagant, which wasn’t really you or Adrian’s strong suit. You’ve never dressed to impress – the fanciest you’ve ever dressed was probably your vigilante suit, which is saying something. But Harcourt made sure you two would fit in tonight, and she bought you and Adrian very impressive dress clothes. The two of you were in the back changing into your outfits and Adrian was standing next to you shirtless looking at the suit Harcourt handed him. “I… don’t think I’ve ever worn a suit before,” Adrian contemplated, staring down at the suit like it was from outer space.

“You’re gonna look super sexy in it,” you admitted, as you stepped into the dress Harcourt picked out for you. You were never really a dress-wearer, so this was definitely out of your comfort zone. “I, however, am not excited about this dress.” You slid the dress up your body and turned your back to Adrian. “Can you zip me up please?”

“Course,” he gulped as he zipped up the dress, leaving his hand hovering over your back. You swiftly turned to face him, and you could practically see his pupils dilating, which caused you to blush. He eyed you up and down, then met your gaze. It was a slick black dress that outlined your figure perfectly, Harcourt knocked it out of the park with this one.

“You… look stupid fucking hot in that dress, babe,” his cheeks flushed, “not that you don’t always look hot yo-you, totally do, like all the time, but – wow!” he stammered, you smiled like an idiot.

“Thank you, I-” you started, lifting his hands to help him get his dress shirt on, “I feel weird in this thing…” he slipped the white shirt on and began buttoning it up.

“You look like a million bucks, don’t be nervous,” he sternly told you, helping boost your confidence. “No, a billion bucks… Trillion...” he paused for a second and looked down to think, you couldn’t stop smiling at him, “you look like all of the bucks,” he confirmed, nodding his head, you chuckled. After helping him button his shirt he put the jacket on completing the outfit, you took a step back to get a look at him, he looked hot.

“May I just say that I was totally right, you do look super sexy in that,” you smirked, the grin that spread across his face was wide. After throwing on the finishing touches Harcourt provided for you, a necklace and small kitten heels, you were ready. You fixed each other’s hair and once you were presentable Adrian took your hand and you walked to the front where your desks are to meet everyone. They all looked stunned when you two walked in.

“Dammnnnnn,” Adebayo shouted, dramatically waving her hand to cool her off, “you guys look hot!” she looked between you and Adrian, you blushed. John gave a few slow claps and Emilia nodded her head with an elated smile on her face. Chris stared at you wide-eyed.

“You look really hot,” Chris said with his mouth wide open. He then turned to Adrian, “Wow, Vij, you clean up nice, now I can see why she likes you so much,” he confessed, Adrian lightly gasped from the compliment, then scanned everyone’s faces. He quickly noticed how they were looking at you.

“I-I don’t like how you guys are staring at us… at her” he motioned to you, “she’s mine…” he stated, as if they all didn’t know that already. “Let’s just… go to the van,” he said meticulously, leading you out of the front door, you snorted. You hopped into the back of the van, sitting in your usual seat next to Adrian. The team followed not soon after and Emilia began making the drive to Gotham. It wouldn’t take too long to get there, but there was an uncomfortable silence between everyone. You never do well with silence, in fact you hated it – you knew Adrian did too, and this silence was deafening, it went on for way too long. While Emilia and John were up front, Adebayo and Chris sat across from you, full on gawking at you and Adrian, and you didn’t know how the hell to react. You looked over to Adrian and raised your eyebrows in perplexity, his brows were furrowed while staring back at Leota and Chris. Out of the corner of your eye you caught Chris outwardly staring at your chest; the dress featured a deep V-cut which accentuated your breasts, so you honestly weren’t surprised that he was looking.

“Hey,” you bobbed your head at Chris, “eyes up here!” you pointed to your eyes, and he shook his head out of his daze. Adrian instantly shot his arm out to cover your chest and huffed.

“So-rry!” Chris said sarcastically, “you just have killer boobs, it’s not my fault Harcourt got that dress for you.”

“Leota helped me pick it out,” Emilia announced, all eyes flew to Adebayo.

“What? I knew you’d look badass in it,” she said empathetically while shrugging.

“Well, thank yo-”

“She does look badass, but you need to stop staring at her, like now,” Adrian grumbled towards Chris. He opened his mouth in shock, and you could literally see the gears shift in his mind as the shock in his face transformed into a sly grin.

“Ohhhh someone’s getting a bit jealoussss,” Chris teased with his voice getting higher, Adrian was about to go off on him – he took a deep breath in, fully ready to explode on him, but the van came to a firm stop, you were in Gotham.

“Alright, stop the banter and focus up,” Emilia started, everyone looked to her, “you two are just going in, getting Vanessa to spill something, then get her out to the garden to be arrested, got it?” she said towards you and Adrian, you shook your heads in acknowledgement. “Adebayo, Smith, and I will be hidden through the mansion for backup just in case this goes south, it might… but you should be fine. I kinda knew her from work and she was, something, so keep your guard up.”

“Maybe try enticing her to go out to the garden,” Leota hinted, raising her eyebrows. Your face turned red.

“Yeah, you two could totally seduce her,” Chris plainly stated, Adrian grasped his chin in confusion, you looked over at him.

“Maybe… that’ll work, if you want to try it?” you questioned, “I guess it’s a good way to get her to trust us?” you asked with cadence in your voice. He slowly nodded his head, understanding that this would be the fastest way to finish the mission. Harcourt parked a bit away from the mansion, as to avoid suspicion, so you two got out of the van and tidied yourselves. You evened out Adrian’s collar and took a deep breath. He lifted his hand in yours and you began walking.

“I’m nervous.” He stated, saying nothing else.

“We’ll be fine, we’re together, so we got this!” you told him. “We’ll just… seduce a random woman we’ve never met so we can arrest her! No problemo,” you chuckled anxiously, he let out a deep, nervous huff, and you soon approached the doors. Adrian told the usher your fake names and he let you into the building, rather, mansion. It was magnificent, something straight out of a fucking movie. Everyone was dressed to the nines, there’s big chandeliers, beautiful artwork, luxurious furniture… every aspect of this estate was insane. You gasped and you heard Adrian gulp as the both of you looked around, you two were out of place here. You shook your head to focus and tightened your grip on Adrian’s hand, he straightened himself up and put a fake grin on his face. You two had to act like you did belong here.

You scanned the area for Vanessa and quickly spotted her leaning against the bar. She was tall, almost as tall as Adrian with the heels she was sporting and wore a burgundy pantsuit that made her look great.

“Eight o’clock,” you whispered to Adrian, his head darted to her. “I’ll go over first and see if I can get her to talk, I’ll give you a signal to join us, okay? I don’t want to bombard her and scare her off,” you said, he nodded in agreement.

“You got this, babe, but be careful,” he warned, always so protective of you. You pecked his cheek and strolled over to the bar next to Vanessa and ordered you a drink for yourself. After waiting a second, you scooted next to her.

“Whatcha drinking?” you asked with your voice calm. She met your gaze, and a stern look was painted on her face.

“Gin and tonic,” she muttered, turning to completely face you. She eyed you up and down with a slight smile on her face, you blushed. “Vanessa,” she introduced herself, and outstretched her hand.

You replied with your fake name as you shook her hand. “Though I have to admit, I already know who you are,” you inferred, she raised her eyebrows, “I’ve heard of your work.”

“What work?” she questioned nonchalantly, tilting her head slightly.

“Ohh you know,” you teased, the bartender then handed you your drink, “helping people have a good time,” you took a sip of your drink, not breaking eye contact with her. She bit the inside of her lip as she stared you down.

“I do like helping people,” her voice was delicate, “what are you in need of?” she asked, stepping in close to you, your bodies were inches away from each other. That was the confirmation you needed, to know she had the intel. Over her shoulder you spotted Adrian, who had walked to a table behind Vanessa to keep his eyes on you. You eyed him, and he readied himself.

“Just something to help me and my boyfriend have a little… fun,” you smirked, at that moment she snatched your drink and took a sip, still standing close to you, and you couldn’t help but blush, completely astounded by what she just did. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Adrian, red-faced and hurriedly walking towards you two. You turned to look at him which prompted Vanessa to as well. You stepped back, and Adrian slid his arm around your waist, pulling you in close. “Speak of the devil,” you purred, and Adrian smiled nervously.

“I think I can definitely help you two…” she paused, “have some fun.” She winked as she put your drink down and took her own in her hands, “I haven’t seen you two around much,” she started, you shifted apprehensively.

“Yeah, we just recently moved here,” Adrian quickly muttered, she nodded her head.

“Thought so, I would’ve remembered seeing you both around here,” she confessed, you were caught off guard and cleared your throat. You could feel Adrian tense up beside you. He then reached over you to grab your drink, and took a sip, staring down Vanessa with a scowl on his face. He wanted to make it clear that you were his.

“Well, why don’t we go outside to discuss what you can get for us?” Adrian queried with his voice low, you looked at Vanessa with hopeful eyes. She nodded and motioned for you two to lead her, you promptly turned around and Adrian didn’t separate from your side. With a faux smile on your face, you briskly moved through crowds of people to steer Vanessa to the garden.

“You’re almost there,” you heard Harcourt say through your earpiece. Adrian didn’t have his earpiece in because his hair wasn’t long enough to cover his ear, so you tapped his hand twice with your finger to signal him. You then approached the tall doors to the garden, and an usher opened them for you. The garden was impressive, which made sense considering the interior of the mansion. Flowers upon flowers, of every kind you could think of – it was beautiful. There was a stone path surrounded by shrubs to walk through, leading up to a fountain. Before you could continue the small talk, as you approached the fountain, Harcourt whispered “Go,” through your earpiece, and the team appeared from their hiding spots, guns in their hands. You and Adrian promptly backed away from Vanessa, who looked furious. Harcourt stepped forward towards her, pointing her gun at her. Vanessa scoffed.

“I didn’t want to have to do this,” Harcourt started.

“Then don’t,” Vanessa retorted.

“I’m arresting you,” Harcourt informed her, and lowered her gun. Adebayo and Smith stayed armed. “Of all the shit you could’ve leaked you chose to sell information for some of the most dangerous drugs known to man?” Emilia stared at her and raised up handcuffs.

“I made a shit ton of money doing it,” she admitted, and paused, shifting in her place, “I’m not going to prison,” she coldly said, moving her hand to her suit. Emilia’s face changed, knowing what was about to happen.

“Don’t,” Chris said, warning her not to go for her gun. She ignored him. Not taking her eyes off of Harcourt, she hastily reached to her suit, but before she could even get the gun out, shots rang, and she dropped to the ground. Harcourt shook her head in defeat. She paused for a second, then walked away and made a call, probably to get some higher ups to clean this up, you looked around at the team.

“Damn, that is not how I thought this would go,” Chris admitted, you agreed.

“Same,” Adrian curtly said.

“Well, mission partially successful? Right?” you asked, trying to be optimistic, Leota lazily nodded her head in agreement. Chris looked over at you.

"All of that," he pointed between you and Vanessa, "was hot to listen to, she was totally into you," he said, you huffed a laugh and Adrian grumbled. After that comment you all followed Emilia back to the van in silence. Adrian took your hand in his for the walk back, you squeezed it to calm your uneasiness. You eventually met up with Emilia in the van, “You alright?” you ask softly.

“Yeah, we tried, and I kinda figured this would happen anyways,” she declared, “From what I knew about her, she always a.. wild card, so… we tried but oh well, you and Chase did great though, good one,” she said to you both sincerely. “Why don’t we go out for drinks?” she speedily changed the subject, and everyone was obviously on board for that. John located a small bar on the outskirts of Gotham, and it was a quick drive to get there. After a few quiet minutes you were there and you all went in, you and Adrian still dressed up. While the others went to the bar to get their drinks, Adrian gently pulled you back.

“What’s up Ade?” you ask him intently; he furrowed his brow.

“I-um, don’t really know how to ask this but, did you have a crush… on Vanessa?” he pondered, completely seriously.

“What? I mean she was pretty, but no, Adrian, we were on a mission,” you said, still a bit stunned he thought you liked her. “I was just in awe at what she did? I guess?” you admit. “Anyways I couldn’t get you off my mind,” you nudged him, his face brightened up.

“Phew, wow okay,” he let out a deep sigh of relief, “I was a bit nervous watching that whole thing go down, I mean it was hot, there is nooo denying that, like, total boner material, but I was maybe kinda… jealous?” he rubbed your arm, “when she took a sip of your drink it felt like personal attack… Even if she didn’t know me.” You chuckled at his statement.

“Yeah, that left me speechless,” you confirmed, and motioned to sit down at an empty table. He slid his chair directly next to yours, like almost on top of your chair, and he put his arm around you. “It was totally hot when you came over and sipped my drink after her though,” you professed.

“Ahhh, I was just a little pissed at her for doing that… I had to stand my ground,” he blinked at you, “I had to show dominance,” he stated, you fluttered.

“Yeah, you didn’t even wait for my signal,” you giggled, poking fun at how quickly he ran over to you and Vanessa.

“Yeah, okay, I was totally pissed! I didn’t like seeing someone else look at you like that,” he hummed. “You’re off limits.”

“I know, it felt weird… I only want you looking at me like that,” you reassured him, and he pulled you in closer to him. He poked his head down to look at you and pecked your forehead. “Plus, you look so fucking hot in that suit, there’s no way I’d pass that up,” you bit your lip as you looked at him with doe eyes.

“I am seconds away from ripping that incredibly sexy dress off of you,” he breathed, “you look, I-I can’t even, I couldn’t – can’t keep my eyes off you… You, look, – not that you don’t always… I-I just, mean, that,” he sighed, “you’re stunning,” he finally got out, you grinned. He shifted in his chair, his demeanor changed, and he stared you down with a suggestive look on his face.

“You look so good in that suit, babe, so good… but I really want to get you out of it,” you whispered as your heart rate rapidly increased. He turned so he could completely face you and went in for a passionate kiss. You were hungry for him, starving, you couldn’t get enough of him.

“You’re all mine,” he said hastily in between kisses. He then slowly began standing, not breaking from the kiss, as he lifted your arms to follow him. You got up and he disconnected from you for a second to spot the bathroom, once he found it, he took your hand in his and led you to it, walking by the team at the bar.

“Of course,” Leota joked, as she watched you two stagger by. Emilia and John began laughing.

“Yeahhh, get it!” Chris shouted, you snickered, and Adrian picked up his pace, you almost tripped trying to keep up with him. You two reached the bathroom and Adrian instantly pinned you against the door.

“I need you right now,” he whispered, then dived straight for your neck, breathing heavily as he began sucking your skin. You moaned at his advances, running your fingers through his dark curls. You grew weak in the knees from his lips on your skin, fulling giving into him. He opened the door behind you and rushed you into a stall. The way he was moaning your name was intoxicating, you pushed yourself even closer into him, and you felt his boner poking through his pants. That only turned you on even more. He lifted his head for a second.

“Y’know, you look absolutely breathtaking in that dress,” he mumbled, “but I totally think you’d look even better with it off,” he teased, and met his lips on yours, the way he kissed you was euphoric.

“Right back at ya,” you somehow managed to breathe out, he went in for another kiss and you were on fire, feeling electric from the way he was crazy about you.

[boldlyvoid]

Found Family

Summary: Henry's best friend, Taylor, is struggling to take care of her mother's schizophrenia, Spencer knows exactly how to help and it's by getting her out of that environment while her mother gets help.

Warnings: foster dad Spencer, social worker Reader, mentions of abusive parents, paranoid schizophrenia and drug abuse.

word count: 3.4k

a/n: there isn't a reader or y/n character in this, it's simply a spencer fic where he becomes a foster dad

Getting a call from JJ at 3pm on their day off was never a good thing. He picks up unenthusiastically, thinking it’s another case that was going to rip him away from organizing all the books in his new house into the dewy decimal system.

“Hello?”

“Hi uncle Spence,” Henry’s sweet voice answers on the other end. “How are you?”

“I’m great, buddy, how are you?” It’s a wonderful surprise, making him light right up.

“Um, I was wondering if I could talk to you about a problem at school?” He sounds nervous, making Spencer’s heart ache with the possibility his favourite little person might be getting bullied.

“Of course, if it’s okay with your mom, I can pick you up and we can go get burgers and talk?” He offers, knowing it’ll be easier to talk if they’re somewhere new and alone.

“Mom!” He calls off, “can I go hang out with uncle Spence?”

“Let me talk to him.” Spencer hears JJ as she walks closer, “hello?”

“Hey, can I take Henry out for some god-fatherly bonding time?” Spencer asks, not giving away the fact that Henry asked to talk, in case he didn’t want her to know.

“Sure, he just has to be back for 9:30, it’s picture day tomorrow,” she agrees. “We’ll see you soon?”

“You will,” Spencer agrees, hanging up the phone and getting ready to leave right away.

With his wallet, phone, keys, he pats his pockets while spinning in a circle, looking for his shoes and almost tripping over his own feet. Throwing on his scarf and coat, he’s out the door, locking it quickly and getting into his car.

He lets his mind wander, wondering what in the world was stressful enough for Henry to pick him out of all the adults in his life to talk to. This was a big deal, it was the first time God Father really had meaning to it, he was going to give him a fatherly talk, he was going to feel useful.

Henry’s sitting on the front porch with his backpack when Spencer pulls into the driveway, he runs over quickly and hops in the passenger seat, “hi,” he smiles wide, leaning over and giving him a hug before putting on his seatbelt.

“You’re safe right?” Spencer asks, “I don’t need to worry about getting your mom involved?”

He nods, “yeah, it’s just some advice I need.”

“Okay,” he nods back with a smile, noticing JJ waving from the kitchen window, they wave back as Spencer backs down the driveway. “So, how’s the semester going?”

“Good, it’s only been a week,” he shrugs. “I like it though, I have math this semester.”

“Oh, math’s your favourite too?”

“Yeah, and I’m really good at it,” he brags, “probably not as good as you, but I’m in the advanced classes, I really like it.”

“Because it has one answer,” Spencer reads through him. “That’s why I like it too. When life is unpredictable, I know math always has my back.”

“You’re a nerd,” Henry teases him.

“And proud,” he doesn’t let it get to him, knowing Henry thinks he’s just as much of a nerd as his uncle.

“Um, but that’s the thing I want to talk about,” he’s quiet, “there’s this girl in my Math class… her mom has schizophrenia.”

“Oh,” Spencer didn’t see this one coming.

“And her dad died of a drug overdose a few years ago so she’s been alone with her mom as it’s been getting worse,” he explains further. “We’re friends, she sits with me every day at lunch, and she’s been opening up to me about how things are going, I’ve started giving her my lunch mom packs and then asking dad for money and buying one for myself. I,” he stops, letting out a huffed breath and turning to Spencer, “I don’t know how to help her?”

Spencer sighs, “Woah…” that was the absolute last thing he expected.

“Yeah, I’m stressed for her and I can’t talk to her outside of class cause mom won’t buy me a real phone yet, and I can’t just ask to call a girl on her phone, she’d never stop teasing me,” Henry rants. “But your mom has schizophrenia, and it was bad when you were 13 too, what would you have wanted me to do if we were friends back then?”

“First of all, you’re the sweetest kid ever,” Spencer reminds him, finding the first parking lot he can and pulling in so that he can look at Henry when he speaks.

“Thanks,” Henry smiles softly. “I’ve known her since kindergarten and she’s always been nice to me and I hate seeing her so sad.”

“Do you know where she lives?” Spencer asks.

He nods, “yeah, she lives near the school so she walks to school every day.”

“How would you feel about going and buying her some groceries?” Spencer offers, “I’ll pay for everything, I know just how hard it was to afford groceries, let alone personal things… did she get any back-to-school clothes?”

Henry shakes his head, “no, I was going to give her some old sweaters but mom noticed them in my backpack.”

“Okay, and we can get her a gift card so she can buy more personal items,” Spencer adds, knowing she’s a girl she probably needs a bra and tampons and medicine.

“Yeah,” Henry gets excited, “thank you for understanding and wanting to help.”

“Anything for you, buddy.”

—

They fill the cart to the brim with everything Henry thinks she’ll like, strolling up and down the Target aisles together and just throwing things in without caring about the price. Buying mostly frozen foods, easy-prep meals and snacks for the morning, they got her a bunch of new shirts, deodorants, shampoo, you name it.

“She wears that stuff on her eyelashes,” Henry says as they pass the cosmetics aisle.

“Okay,” Spencer turns, looking through all the choices, “do you know what brand she uses?”

He shakes his head, “no, but it’s green like this,” he reaches for a Covergirl one. “She’s really pretty, even without this.”

“Is she?” Spencer’s heart swoons, “Is that why you want to take care of her?”

He nods, “it’s what you and dad do, aren’t you supposed to do everything for your girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend?” Spencer’s shocked at the revelation. “You didn’t say that, you called her a friend?”

“I want her to be my girlfriend,” he admits.

“After this, I don’t know how she wouldn’t want to be,” Spencer assures him. “Do you think this is enough?”

“More than,” Henry sighs happily, “she’s going to be so surprised.”

“And probably a little overwhelmed,” Spencer adds, “it's very hard to accept gifts sometimes when you’re so used to feeling like a burden.”

“I’m just hoping her mom is nice today,” he sighs. “She scares me, not like your mom at all, she’s still soft. Taylor’s mom is just… she’s scary.”

He seems ashamed like he knows he shouldn’t say that. “It’s scary,” Spencer validates his feelings. “I was scared every day. But I never had a best friend like you to lean on. Your support means a lot to her now, you’re the only structure she knows.”

Henry smiles softly, “thanks.” And then he continues down the aisle. “I think she’d like these too,” he points at a pack of chapsticks, “she used to collect them.”

“Put ‘em in the cart.”

After that, he’s done. Taking Spencer over to the checkouts, they pick out a gift card, they pay for everything and head back out to his car. Driving down past Henry’s school, he pulls up to this girl, Taylor’s house. It’s run down, the yards a mess and the driveway is empty. It reminds him of his own mom's house.

They pulled in and immediately Henry smiled, “I’m going to go knock and tell her, and make sure her mom’s not mad about it.”

“Of course,” Spencer stays and waits, watching Henry get out and knock on the door.

She swings the screen door open and wraps her arms around him as soon as she sees him. Holding him in a tight and loving embrace, she’s very happily surprised to see him. Henry brushes her red hair back off her face as she pulls away, smiling back at her. She quickly grabs her shoes and runs out to the car, wanting to meet her best friend's uncle.

Spencer gets out, smiling at her expecting her to want to shake his hand when she pulls him in for a hug, her face buried in his chest, “it’s nice to finally meet you!”

“You too,” he laughs, patting her back before she pulls away. “Henry filled me in on what’s going on, I’m sure he’s also told you about my mom?”

She nods, “I’ve been wanting to ask if I could reach out to you,” she admits. “I really need some help.”

“Here,” he reaches into his pocket for the gift card they got for her, “I’ll put my phone number on this and you can call me if you ever need help.”

“What is that?” She asks.

“A gift card,” Henry smiles, “and we got you some groceries and I picked out some shirts I think you might like.”

“Henry,” she shoves him, eyes wide and shocked, she’s also a bit embarrassed. “You guys didn’t have to do this, that is too much.”

“It’s what I wish someone did for me when I was 13,” Spencer hands it to her. “Believe me, I know what it’s like, in ways I haven’t ever told JJ or Henry, I know you need help but you’d never ask.”

Her eyes well with tears, her chin wobbles as she whispers a thank you, pulling Spencer into another hug.

At that moment he gets it.

He understands why he was meant to go through his childhood. He understands why things were so incredibly awful for him. Fate laid out the pieces in order knowing that there would be a little boy who would need his God Fathers' help to take care of the girl he loves.

They helped her bring everything inside, where Spencer found her mom on the couch watching the TV. “Hello,” he waves to her.

“Who are you?” She panics, “Taylor who is this man?”

“This is our new friend Spencer, he brought the groceries over for me,” she lies, keeping the nice thing Spencer did for their family a secret.

“Oh,” she calms slightly. “Why are you in a suit?”

“I’m a professor at the local college,” Spencer lies too, knowing that most schizophrenics have problems with authority and control, if she knew he worked for the government she could spiral.

“Ah,” she nods, turning her attention back to the TV, she pulls her legs to her chest and plays with her short, choppy, blonde hair and it’s like he’s been thrown back in time 30 years.

He remembers it all vividly, being scared to death of his own mother sometimes and it made having to leave Taylor there even harder. He doesn’t like knowing she’s alone in that environment, he reminds her to call him if she ever needs help, emphasizing that it includes the most random time of night or the most mundane inconvenience.

—

She calls him a few nights later.

He’s sitting at his desk wrapping up his paperwork when his cellphone starts to vibrate in his pocket. He doesn’t check the caller he just answers.

“Doctor Reid.”

“Um, hi?” She sniffles. “It’s Taylor, Henry’s friend.”

“Hi, are you okay?” He can sense the fear in her voice.

“No,” she cries, “she flushed all her meds when I was at school, she thinks they’re making her sleepy so that she can be taken by someone, she’s completely, completely gone. I don’t know her.”

“Are you safe currently?” He stands, looking around for Emily who was still around.

“I’m in the bathroom,” she whispers. “It’s the only room with a lock.”

“Okay, I can come and get you but I’m going to have to tell my boss what’s going on and your mom will probably have to be taken in for evaluation,” Spencer explains, hearing her about to protest. “Trust me, I won’t let anything happen to you, I can see if JJ and Will want to take you in for the night, if not there are 3 other women on our team who you can stay with while we settle this.”

“Can I live with you?” She asks, “Henrys always said you’d be a great dad, I’ve never really had one… I’d feel safe with you.”

His heart breaks, “you call me back if anything else happens, but just stay put, I’ll come to get you soon.”

“Thank you, Spencer.”

When she hangs up, he runs up the stairs to Emily’s office, waiting for the elevator would have taken too long and she was only a floor up. Knocking on her door with haste he rushes in before she can even say enter, “I need your help.”

“Anything?” She stands to meet his level of importance.

“One of Henry’s friends has a mother with schizophrenia, she’s terrified and alone and 13,” he drops his voice so that he can get it out without having a full breakdown and ends up tearing up. “I need to help her, she wants to stay with me at my house and get her mom some proper help.”

“Oh, okay,” Emily’s a bit taken back. “I have a friend on the ministry of children and family services, I’ll see if we can get a temporary custody ruling and we’ll 51-50 her mother once everything is in line. Is she safe?”

He nods, “I’m going to pick her up and bring her back here while we wait.”

“Okay, I’ll make some calls and meet you back in the bullpen,” Emily agrees and he’s gone before the last syllable leaves her mouth.

He drives like a bat out of hell, pulling up across the street and walking up to her front door. He peers inside carefully to see the house is a mess, there are things just flung everywhere, the curtains torn down and the couch cushions flipped. It’s all too similar to how he grew up.

“Hello?” He calls out as he pushes the unlocked door open. “Is anyone home?”

“You!” She points at him with wide eyes, “you’ve been here before!”

“I have,” he validates her memory. “I’m a teacher, I know your daughter,” he lays out the facts with a truthful face. Wanting her to calm down, “we have a field trip today, I’m here to pick Taylor up.”

“It’s night,” she looks him up and down, fearful and skeptical of his actions.

“It’s a long drive, we’re leaving early,” he explains more as Taylor peaks out from the bathroom. “Go pack your things.”

“It’ll be good for her to not be here,” her mom sighs. “Then they can’t take her too.”

Spencer reverts his attention back to her, remembering all the things a schizophrenic's mind can conjure up as a shiver runs through him. “I’ll keep her safe.”

“Good,” she agrees before walking back into the kitchen where she was before. Using all the new tinfoil they bought to plaster the ceiling, he sighs, she’s really, really, bad.

As soon as they’re outside, Spencer watches her lock the door and wrap a chain around the handle. “She thinks this is so they can’t get in but I don’t want her getting out.”

“I understand,” Spencer knows the fear. “Are you okay?”

She turns to him with tear-stained cheeks, shaking her head and wrapping her arms around him. He rubs her back gently as she holds him close, sobbing into his shirt on the front steps, he finally lets himself cry too.

“It’s going to be okay,” he assures her, rubbing her back gently. “Have you eaten dinner? Are you okay?”

She nods, pulling away with a sniffle. “I just want to get out of here.”

—

JJ brings Henry into work the next morning and he has no idea why. 13 and grouchy from having to wake up at 7 in the morning on a Saturday, but he comes in anyway because he loves his aunts and uncles, and it’s pretty cool that his mom runs the place now.

“What’s going on?” He asks, rubbing his eyes for good measure as he sees everyone huddled around Spencer’s desk in the bullpen.

“Henry!” Taylor stands right up and pushes through them, jumping into his arms and surprising him.

He’s quick to snuggle into her shoulder with his arms wrapped impossibly tight around her. He rubs her back and breathes her in and it’s the sweetest little reunion, “what are you doing here?”

“Spencer is going to be my foster dad, my mom needs help,” she pulls back with a smile. “I think that makes us cousins now?”

“No,” he shakes his head, “he’s not related to me.”

She laughs, smacking his arm and pulling him in for another hug, kissing his cheek lightly, “I know.”

JJ walks over to the rest of the adults, pulling Spencer aside, “how long have you two been planning this?” She points at him, “I had no clue this was even happening?”

“It’s a long story,” Spencer sighs. “The other day when I came and got Henry it was because he knew she needed help, it was like walking back into my childhood home and I couldn’t just leave her there knowing what I went through.”

“Why didn’t he tell me?” She looks over to Henry, smiling as he shares the story of how long they’ve been best friends.

“Because you tease him,” Spencer’s honest. “The way you tease me, and I know you do it from a place of love but… it makes us build walls around things that are important, thinking that you’re going to make fun of it.”

Her face drops, “I-I didn’t know you felt that way?”

He nods with a sad smile, “he would love to share with you, just pinching him and talking in your baby voice about things that he loves isn’t fun for him. He wants to have a grown-up conversation, he’s at that age where he’s so smart he wants to be treated like an adult but he still wants to know you love and support his ideas.”

“I have a lot to learn still, I guess,” she sighs. “I knew he loved her, I just didn’t think that my teasing could keep him from coming to me for help?”

“I think he only came to me because of my mom, if he didn’t know about her schizophrenia because I was in prison, then I think he would have gone to you or Will. He’s been doing a lot behind your back to help her because he was worried you’d think this was just a crush and not life-changing for her.”

“That’s why he had all the sweaters in his bag,” she covers her mouth, “I thought he was just throwing them away cause he’s too cool now…”

He shakes his head, “no, we went to Target and bought her some back-to-school stuff, she hasn’t had anything new in years.”

JJ’s heart drops and he watches it on her face, “I can’t believe he was afraid to tell me. I’m such a bitch sometimes and I don’t even register it until it’s too late.”

Spencer just shrugs, not disagreeing in any sense but also not having any idea of how to change that. She was a mean girl, no matter what she said, and that ran deep. “Just talk to him the way you would with Emily or Penelope, he wants a true friend and a mom at the same time.”

She nods along, “okay, yeah… like how Roz used to talk to me.”

Spencer smiles, “big sisterly advice would be good for him too, you’re good at that.”

“So you’re fostering her?” She changes topics back to Taylor.

He nods with a smile, “yeah, I’m just waiting on someone from the social services office to come over here and get the paperwork sorted, then she wants to safety approve my house but Taylor should be settled by tomorrow.”

“Are you sure you can go from not having kids to raising a 13-year-old girl by yourself?” JJ wonders, “they’re extremely difficult.”

“She needs love, support and guidance, I think we can handle it,” he smiles. “I think we both can.”

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[munsonsduchess]

Calling all Monsters

summary: steve needs a favour and eddie has just the car to pull it off w/c: 2,487 warnings: mentions of drugs, swearing, mentions of underage drinking a/n: there was no way i was forgetting these two when it came to halloween, i had initially planned something else out but then this wonderful fic got published and i couldn't not tie everything in, you should 110% read that fic it’s amazing and @pillow-titties is incredible

if you like this fic why not consider reblogging it so others can enjoy it too?

this is part seven of the god and goddess of hellfire, the rest can be found on my masterlist

(moodboard by me)

You'd been having what could quite honestly be described as a morning from hell. Eddie had gone to work early that morning which was fine, he worked some Saturday's now they'd let him do more as a tattoo apprentice than clean up the other guys stations or go for coffee. 

No the morning from hell was all thanks to one Rosemary Munson who had apparently taken such offense to her breakfast that it had ended up on the walls, the floor, the counter tops, really anywhere oatmeal could land when thrown around by a cranky one and half year old,

"Rose you're killing me baby, please can you just try the oatmeal? I promise it isn't gonna bite you" you'd tried just about everything and were indeed very close to wondering how you were going to blackmail or bribe your daughter into eating her breakfast when the door rang.

Scooping up Rose so she didn't cause any more mayhem in your kitchen you answered the door and were incredibly relieved to find out that it wasn't someone who wanted to make another noise complaint about you and Eddie but instead Steve Harrington,

"Sorry, was this a bad time?" 

"No worse than any other, come in" you stood aside to let the younger man into the house, "just be careful, there's oatmeal everywhere" 

Steve gave you a sympathetic smile, there was probably oatmeal in your hair too come to think of it. 

"You guys are going through it huh?" Steve asked, 

"We've been in our feelings all morning and those feelings revolve explicitly around oatmeal, which I'd like to point out we had no problems with yesterday" you sighed, "but how can we help you Steve. I'm sure you're not here to listen to my woes"

You gestured Steve into the living room which was significantly cleaner than the kitchen, less chance of anything falling on him or getting stuck in that otherwise perfect hair,

"Uh yeah I was gonna ask Eddie a favour" Steve started, "is he here?" 

"Nope he's at work today. They're actually letting him tattoo some oranges these days" you laughed, "but I'm sure he'll say yes to whatever it is" 

"Yeah but if you guys have your hands full with Rose it's fine" 

"It'll be fine, either Eddie can do whatever it is by himself or i'll ask Joyce if she can babysit, I'd ask my mom but she and my dad are in … Palo Alto I think. My dad got one of those RVs when he retired and they've been touring the country loving life" 

"Well actually that kinda ties into what I was gonna ask. Apparently there's some Halloween party the kids got invited to and they need a ride. Joyce is working, Nancy's mom is taking Holly trick or treating and Hop's on duty. Joyce said she could pick them up and they're all gonna stay in that new place they got downtown but yeah"

"Don't they usually ask you for rides?" you asked, there was hardly an event that took place where the gaggle of teens didn't ask or rather just assume Steve would be their ride,

"Yeah but uh I've got plans with Nicole" Steve explained, his ears going pink as he rubbed the back of his neck,

"Aw Stevie, do you feel embarrassed about your Halloween plans?" you teased, "are you doing something naughty?" 

"It's not like that!" Steve jumped to explain himself, "we were just gonna watch a movie" 

"I'm pretty sure Eddie and I were 'just gonna watch a movie' and then nine months later - "you bounced Rose on your lap for good measure.

Steve was pink from head to toe as he stammered out a response but you finally took pity on the poor boy, "I'm joking Steve, of course we'll drive the rugrats around" 

"Really? You guys didn't have plans?" 

"Well if nobody can babysit then nah we don't have any plans. We'll take them to the party, but a couple of them are gonna have to squeeze in, the Impala isn't big enough for eight exactly so Wheeler can just sit in the trunk" 

It wasn't as though you had anything against Mike Wheeler exactly but there was something about the boy that just rubbed you the wrong way. He was a snarky little asshole but then so was Max and you adored her. 

"I'm sure he'll be fine" Steve and Mike had their own rift, mostly because Steve had dated Nancy back in the day when all this Upside Down Nonsense had first started, "do you need any help when I'm here? It's fall break so I've got time" 

"Are you offering because you feel guilty for coming by mid tantrum?" you grinned, "because as you can see Miss Rose has very much stopped once you arrived" 

"You're here alone and oatmeal is a bitch to get out of anything once it dries" Steve said, his ears going pink again at your teasing, 

"Well if that's the case, why don't you take Rose to the bath and I'll clean up the kitchen. If you do a good job I'll even let you have a brownie to take home. I made them yesterday" 

"Uh thanks? I didn't know you baked" Steve furrowed his brow, you'd never been the domestic type so this was surprising,

"They're fun brownies Steve. Who do you think you're talking to?" 

"Yeah that makes more sense. Thought I was in the twilight zone for a second"

"You're hilarious. Now go wash my daughter, she's gross and I need five minutes of alone time" 

»»————-　♔　————-««

When Eddie came home that evening you recounted Steve's visit and how you'd agreed to take the kids to the halloween party,

"They can all just squash together in the backseat or I can shove Mike into the trunk" 

"What about Halloween in Indy? I thought we were gonna go?" 

"Unless you wanna bring Rose or try and find a babysitter in this town it's not happening babe" 

"But I thought you were asking Joyce?" 

"She's working, I mean we could ask Wayne but would he be able to get the night off at this short notice?" 

"Nah probably not" Eddie sighed, "oh well, it looks like we're the responsible people"

"God did you ever think it would be us?" you laughed, "married with a baby and being asked to be the responsible adults on Halloween?" 

"Never. I mean how responsible are we really?" Eddie laughed leaning in to blow a raspberry on Rose's cheek, "I mean we've got our happy little accident right here" 

"Eddie! You can't call her an accident!" you swatted his arm, "you'll give her a complex!" 

"Awh but she's my favourite little accident!" Eddie cooed, lifting a giggling Rose from your arms, "aren't cha sweetie?" 

"Edward Munson, what did I literally just say?" 

Eddie just laughed and bounced Rose around the kitchen singing something nonsensical to her. You sighed, what were you gonna do with this man?

»»————-　♔　————-««

In preparation for being the designated responsible adults for the evening you'd gone by Melvad's to see Joyce about taking the kids home again and to get a little costume for Rose,

"If you can't get away Eddie and Me are more than happy to pick them back up" you'd said as she rang you through, and used her employee discount for your items no matter how many times you told her she shouldn't,

"Don't worry honey, I finish up here around nine so I'll be fine to pick them up. Will and El won't stop talking about the party, they're so excited" 

"That's so sweet. I mean I know they're sixteen and all but it's kind of adorable that they're this excited for a high school party" 

"I used to be so worried about Will, that he would have a hard time at school but I'm so glad he has such good friends you know?" 

You nodded. You knew Eddie had all but taken Will under his wing when the Hopper Byers family had returned to Hawkins after Vecna and the earthquake. The young boy had orchestrated an entire D&D game to keep Eddie occupied in the hospital while he was recovering and you knew for sure Eddie saw himself in the younger Byers.

You bid goodbye to Joyce and promised to call by the house with Rose another day so she could see how her granddaughter was growing. Joyce had unofficially adopted Eddie when she'd returned to town and met him for the first time and Wayne seemed more than happy with the arrangement. 

»»————-　♔　————-««

The night of the party you had dressed Rose up in the little pumpkin costume you'd gotten for her, you'd been expecting another fit like the oatmeal but surprisingly she was more than excited to wear her costume. Probably helped by how much Eddie had hyped her up for wearing it the days prior. 

While you and Eddie weren't going to the Halloween event in the city you'd been planning you still wore your costumes albeit slightly modified. Eddie had still donned the puffy sleeved shirt and plastic fangs and you'd still worn yours but had decided to forego the wig that you'd bought and just wear your own hair down and your longest black dress. 

Max was first to be picked up since she and her Mom had moved out of the trailer park shortly after you and Eddie had and into another of the empty houses left abandoned by people who'd given up on Hawkins once and for all.

She slid into the front seat next to you and Rose and made a fuss over the baby in her pumpkin costume,

"You guys make really cool vampires" she'd said, "Sorry you're missing your grown up halloween or whatever because Steve wants to bang his girlfriend" 

"Well he does most of the running around after you little shits so he's allowed to want a night off to bang his girlfriend" you'd replied easily, "moms need time off too" 

The boys had decided on a group costume but El and Max weren't participating and were doing something of their own which you expected would make more sense when you picked El up. 

After Max you picked up Dustin who complained loudly about how Max got to sit in the front and next to Rose,

"It's because I'm the favourite Dusty Bun" Max shot back, "too bad, sucks to be you"

"Hey! That's not fair! I'm Eddie's favourite right?" Dustin looked at Eddie who opened his mouth but shut it again with an audible click, "betrayal! I can't believe this! I better still be Steve's favorite!"

"Oh that's a given" you laughed, "you're always gonna be his favourite child" 

Dustin seemed placated by this and settled back in his seat, for all of five minutes before he began to complain about the music and wanting to see his sister better. 

After picking up Dustin you swung by Lucas' and the group costume slowly came together. Of course these little nerds would choose Star Wars, you didn't even know why you were surprised. 

After Lucas it was Mike who was as snarky as ever and wouldn't stop complaining about Steve bailing on them which you shut down very quickly. Using the same argument you'd used with Max that Steve was entitled to one night off from being the personal chauffeur to a group of nerdy teenagers.

You finally swung by the Byers' place last. Jonathan waved from the front door as El and Will came running out, you figured he probably couldn't drive anywhere cause Joyce needed the car and envied his night alone just a little,

"Alright, Lucas, Mike you're gonna have to budge up to let the Wonder Twins in. Anyone complains they're sitting in the trunk!"

"Why are you giving orders? This isn't even your car!" Mike shot back,

"Careful Young Wheeler" Eddie chastised, "you might be in the throes of puberty and in thrall to your hormones but you will always address Lady Munson with respect" 

"Whatever" he pouted before making sure there was indeed enough room for El and WIll. When you turned around to get a good look at El you couldn't help but laugh, in her white blouse and blue jeans no one would know what she was supposed to be dressed as but the slash in the sleeve of her blouse and the fake blood pouring down her arm paired with the overalls Max was wearing and no doubt the infamous Michael Meyers mask she had stuffed somewhere would inform everyone what their costume was supposed to be.

You loved these kids. 

»»————-　♔　————-««

When you and Eddie reached the house the party was held in it seemed as though the festivities were in full swing and the kids were clambering over each other to get out of the car,

"Hey!" Eddie yelled out the driver's side window, "Ground rules! If you drink do not lose sight of your cup, if you can't be sure if you set your drink down then forget it that's not your drink anymore, stick together, watch out for each other and if anyone offers you anything - " 

"Just say no" the kids chorused as one, probably having it shoved down their throats at school. Thanks Nancy Reagan,

"Yeah because it's probably substandard product and you don't know where they got it from since Rick doesn't sell to teeangers anymore and Eddie doesn't sell at all" you added, "now go on, get" 

The kids didn't need telling twice and they all ran for the house, the music blaring out of the sound system someone's parents probably paid a fortune for. As you and Eddie made the drive back home you couldn't help but wonder, 

"Do you miss it?" 

"Miss what?" 

"Going to parties, being the guy with the good supply, making more money in an hour than you do in eight at the studio?" 

Eddie thought about it for a minute. It was a dangerous way to earn a living and he'd been cautioned more times than he probably should have been by Hopper, probably because the older man knew Wayne and Eddie's old man and wanted Eddie to at least have a shot at a decent life, but at the same time he was the man of the hour and that was it. Come Monday morning back at school he was Eddie "the freak" again, shoved into lockers by the basketball team, berated by the football team, scorned by cheerleaders and well everyone else by proxy,

"Nah. Why would I miss that when I've got all I want right here?" he smiled broadly, his nose scrunching up and leaving a little crease in the middle,

"Sap" you laughed reaching over to kiss him briefly before he had to turn his eyes back to the road,

"You love me" 

"You're lucky I do" 

"Don't I know it?"

Taglist: @shenanigans-and-imagines @jobean12-blog @eddiesmutson @prettyboyeddiemunson @hellfireeddie6 @that-lame-ghoul9000 @xbreezymeadowsx @ches-86 @flashyourgreeneyesatme @anxiousstark @ruinedbythehobbit @winnifredburkleismyhero @boomhauer @eddiemvnsonss

If you’d like to be added/removed from the taglist please let me know!

[lene-loki]

MARVEL Masterlist

MATT MURDOCK

SERIES

Hold Me Ever since you experienced abuse in a past relationship you're having issues to let people get close to you. That is until you find yourself falling head over heels in love with Matt Murdock. In the process of searching for the strength to open up to him, old wounds get torn open. Prologue

IMAGINES

Being Loved Requested: Could you write a fluffy story about Henry (or Matt Murdock) of reader reading to him after a long day * your pick of the two *

Talk too much Requested: "Hi it's me again I would like to request a matt fic where say Karen or Marci (love them both) makes a comment on how reader talks to much and then the reader is quiet for a good few days , then Matty boy comes to the rescue to make reader feel better"

STEVE ROGERS

SERIES

Ocean Eyes There is one last Hydra base located underwater that the Avengers are determined to paralyze. They’re about to discover a new species. Part 1

IMAGINES

Everything Has It's Order (Y/N) is an autistic agent at S.H.I.E.L.D and has organized her whole life according to her own system. Until someone brings chaos into her routine.

BUCKY BARNES

SERIES

Wicked Game After fixing the boat, Bucky decides to stay with Sam and his sister in Louisiana. Soon, Bucky and Sam are forced to get a job since being Avengers doesn't pay the rent so they reluctantly start to work as waiters at the local Country Club. A young beauty who plays tennis with her father everyday on the court catches Bucky's attention immediately. (Y/N) isn't dancing to nobody's tune and does whatever she wants. And right now all that she wants is to mess with Bucky. Chapter One

IMAGINES

Never Too Close   After the events of Avengers: Endgame, (Y/N) Romanoff is mourning the death of her sister Natasha. She is unexpectedly finding comfort in the presence of someone who shares the pain of losing the people he loved.

Code Blue At a time where Bucky Barnes' mind still belonged to the Winter Soldier, he subconsciously hurt a lot of people - including (Y/N). Now he is faced with the guilt of her severe injury.

PETER PARKER (TOM HOLLAND)

SERIES

Circles (Y/N) is addicted to a certain medicine and goes too far for a new bottle when she can't pay the drug dealer. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

TOM HIDDLESTON

SERIES

Low Key Writing on a script for a new movie project, Tom Hiddleston struggles on writing the female perspective. He decides to talk to a real prisoner since the movie takes place in a jail. The young woman sitting behind bars is taking up Tom’s entire mindspace and he discovers her story to be much more interesting than his fictional script. And soon he’s determined to get her out of there. Part 1

[limetimo]

RAB fics I read (26Jul-6Aug)

The Past is The Present, The Future is The Past by DearOurMoony I. am. in. love. with. this. concept. bye. bye. Regulus lived and Regulus died but mama Black raised no quitter. From the space between lifes, 18yo Regulus ambushes 16yo James Potter in his dreams and asks him to change the future by befriending 15yo Regulus. There's like, uuummm, so much going on.

Until You're Home by AmeliaDarkholme Aaaaaaaaaaaaa angst but also a mindfuck, Sirius feels, canon was truly one of the darker timelines, very beautiful very powerful

Turned Tides by rsbarelle Regulus steps in to protect Sirius, gets crucioed for his troubles, and is dragged off to the Potters with Sirius. Bartylus with Jegulus endgame.

The Marauders and the Prisoner of Azkaban by SilverShadow1 Alternate universe MArauders + Regulus + Lily are reading the Prisoner of the Azkaban

to the dark lord by justwhatialwayswanted Regulus doesn't want to serve the dark lord or join the order, so naturally the next logical step is to start building his own, cooler club. That boy is playing 5d chess every waking moment and I love him your honour also Peacock Evan Rosier my beloveds. Very good if you're looking for Slytherin friendships!

Trans-figuration by Quietlemonhush It's wolfstar anniversary and Regulus gives them something he thinks they both would very much appreciate. He isn't wrong, but he didn't know how far in denial and fear Sirius was about his gender. It all works out tho, Wolfstar has hot anniversary sex and Sirius accepts his genderfluidity for the first time in his life.

Meetings That Start In The Dark by writingamarie :)

unbreakable heaven by battlehamster Regulus is deeply traumatised after a really bad relationship and can't allow himself to fall in love. Which sucks because he's pretty much gone on James Potter already. Casual sex it is! Meanwhile James is head over heels for the younger Black and willing to take anything Regulus gives him, even if it's killing him inside.

Rest In Peace? No, Live In Peace by A2idB1u3 Regulily had a baby and Barty used to date Sirius and canon stuff happened and Barty was raising Harry till like 9 or 10 when the aurors caught up with them adn akdkj I need to know what happens next

Drugs and surgical scrubs by anauro no need for introductions 10/10

Rock 'N' Roll, Baby! by bugsbabe Jegulus Wrong number Marauders band AU I'm pumped up

A (somewhat unconventional) Black Family Getaway by Trex_patronus wonderful inspired gorgeous showstopping, if you want some top notch black brothers dynamics, Trex is your guy gal pal!

Oaths Kept & Oaths Broken by Trex_patronus everything I said before ^ in angsty flavour

The house of discord by Petite00 for AryaCahill I love itttttttt Buckbeak my beloved, Reg and Sirius reverting to children in 0,1 secs of meeting each other

Madness by any other name by AtomicMint Regulus agrees to tutor one (1) Hufflepuff, gets an army of Puffs teaching him the importance of human connections and the true meaning of love ♥

A Full Guide To Gardening For Amateurs by aphrsditea James is bipolar and ADHD and his flowers are DYING. Thankfully his new mysterious hostile neighbour Regulus knows a thing or ten about gardening and agrees to save James' poor roses from demise.

Stowaway by Propheciesanddreams (propheciesanddreams) Regulus runs away to the Potters'

The Secrets of Regulus Black by Josiem Secrets. Regulus has them. It'S necessary to keeping Sirius safe.

The Break and the Fall by allalrightagain screaming Regulus/Peter Pettigrew

Art Heist, Baby! by otrtbs I am destroyed, I will never recover, I will forever hold this fic dear to my heart

You Belong With Me by lolregulus for sigme7 Regulus just wants to go home back to France; modern boarding school au with wolfstar and jegulus and ohmygod they were roommates

Elective Affinities by Caecelia author didn't update anything since 2012 but fuck me the story is so intriguing. Time traveler Harry rooming with Snape

Lead The Way by thissucks Walnut and Onion die in Sirius' NEWT year and Sirius is now responsible for his lil brother. He doesn't really want to, but Dumbledore would much rather have Regulus in the Order than with Death Eaters...

All You Need Is 20 Seconds by thissucks After Sirius got disowned Regulus was sent to france so that he couldn't die or something. He got married, has two children, and it's 1995 and the little family is moving back to England to kick some ressurected butt. I love his wife so much I cannot even

career goals: tyrant by justwhatialwayswanted like to the dark lord but instead of playing 5d chess with his surroundings, TerminatoReg tells reality what he wants it to be, and it becomes it :D Funtastic

Diptych by pansysnarkinson Lucius gave Regulus the diary to unleash the Basilisk. Once Regulus figured out what was happening he set out on a lotr-esque journey to hide the Diary until later notice. That plan has some serious holes but I'm blaming Dumbledore for those

My Own Private Blackpool by LadyVisenya a girl OC from Percy's year has a friend who turns out to be a very traumatised REgulus Black. They set out to hunt horcruxes and defeat VOldemort together

Selective blindness by Shadowmun Severus/Regulus

I thought I was “dead to you” by Jegulussun Regulus wakes up with amnesia, to find out he's on good terms with his brother and married to James Potter of all people.

What it is that makes me run by catastrophizemoony ♥♥♥

Stan Shunpike by JuliaDaviesMcdonaldFraser one v short chapter but it looks promising!

[tokyoghoose]

nous aimons tous les deux jours

pairing: dabi x reader

playlist: things we never say - bad bad habits*, sincerity is scary - the 1975, love love love - of monsters and men, if i go, im going - gregory alan isakov, i dont know me like you do - low hum, if i get high - nothing but thieves ( alice kristiansen cover ), i dare you - the regrettes, problems - deathbyromy, fool of you - meltt, hell and you - amigo the devil, creature - it looks sad, tongues and teeth - the crane wives, hooked ( addicted you might say ) - eleisha eagle, nothings gonna hurt you baby - cigarettes after sex, a dream of you - far caspian, so alright, cool, whatever - the happy fits, a lovely night - ryan gosling

warnings: mentions of violence, brief mentions of drugs for expression, and suggestive themes

summary: we love every other day

announcements!

this is my first try at a enemies/lover thingy! Originally it was going to be an enemy to lovers but i liked the idea that they're just on opposing sides a little more haha. Lemme know if you'd like to see the other one though!

i know there are a lot of hero x villain fics like this out there 😌 this is my take on it, so please bare with me!

feedback is welcome and appreciated! requests are open!

"We really have to stop meeting like this."

An addiction. That's what it is. Either that or it's some kind of reverse psychology like you want what you can't have—because nothing else makes sense. If you knew him as a regular person, honestly you probably wouldn't have given him a second thought. If he was a hero you worked beside—or god forbid a villain—then you probably wouldn't have cared for a hookup or two, but then you'd get over it. It's not infatuation. It's an addiction. It's toxic and unhealthy and it just feels good even if it shouldn't. But the high; the high is unbeatable.

It continues on forever and more. From the moment his gaze pierces yours it's like snorting a rail of coke or taking a tab and the trip never ends. It's not even the fact you could get caught. You two are so damn obvious; anyone who stumbles into an alleyway at three in the morning would see the two of you doing more than what a fight warrants. It's just him. It's simply Dabi.

Romeo and Juliette's syndrome is probably a better term for it. But hell, it's not like he'd die for you. Right? It's not like you've known each other way longer than some days and nights and you certainly aren't teenagers and he's definitely not somebody who moves onto a girl and decides he's in love at first sight just because his 'rosaline' left him face down ass up. So maybe Romeo and Juliette is just lack of a better term.

But it's so unfair. How the hell are you supposed to escape him when it's like he's around every corner. With every breath you take, it's like he's an inch closer to crushing your chest with his. And maybe you want him to? This isn't very hero-like.

"You're the one always tracking me down, doll."

The pet name sends shivers down your spine and it makes you want him all the more.

Who am I? What has gotten into me?

You blame the pink tint to your cheeks on the brisk wind of the night, but the heat to them is a large contrast. You cross your arms over your chest and scoff, trying to look taller, stronger, and broader. Not in a threatening way, but more a warning.

This time you'll really take him out.

"In case you forgot, it's my job."

You tell yourself that every time.

And every time he gets away.

"I'm not doing anything but taking a walk."

He steps closer, the already short distance between you two getting shorter. The streetlamp that cuts the scene in half flickers, a moth flying away from the light and towards the moon. You count three squares in distance and you resist the urge to step back.

"You're a wanted criminal, Dabi."

He doesn't deny it but scoffs anyway, shoving his hands into his pockets leisurely. It's like he's never bothered. You're just a nat he's waiting to squash. You have to remind yourself of that: You're just prey.

"I think you just miss me." His tone is serious, but he's only teasing—no matter how true it is. You're starting to think that he can read minds—it's actually quite concerning.

You force a laugh past your lips, trying to show you aren't bothered by what he says. It's just a game of cat and mouse, and it's time the roles switch.

"Please. I could throw you in jail right now."

"But you wouldn't do that. Isn't that right, bunny?"

Your guard faulters and it gives him the opening he needs to corner you completely—and quite literally. It's a blink of an eye and he has you against the brick wall. It'd look rather suspicious to anyone passing, or maybe it looks endearing. But it doesn't matter, to begin with when it's a barren street. Even the crickets seem to have fled.

It's like wherever Dabi walks, everything else scatters. If it were the sea, you're sure it'd part red.

Dabi smirks, trapping you between his body and the cool, damp bricks. The mist from earlier rain seeps slowly into your hero suit, sending a violent chill down your spine. His other hand touches your hip, fingers grazing the fabric so faintly that it'd feel non-existent if it weren't for the heat radiating off them. You hitch your breath when his nose nudges your neck, his hot breath causes shivers and his eyes bore into your own with something mischievous.

"I-"

His lips ghost the skin of your neck and you subconsciously pull it taut, tilting your head to the side. You're beginning to hate how your body arches into his and how it reacts to the simplest of touches.

Like a brick to a window, your dissolve shattered easily.

Dabi quirks a brow, challenging you to continue as you sputter about. It's embarrassing. You can hear him say it now, just like so many times before: "Oh? A big hero like you getting flustered by a big bad villain like me? How cute."

Your walkie talkie comes alive with static and a voice cuts in asking for help to take down a gang of criminals a few cities over.

My saving grace.

"I-I have to go." You push him away by the shoulders with sudden confidence, but he doesn't seem to put up much resistance.

God, you want to wipe the smug smirk off his face.

He backs off and turns with an unbothered wave, proving his point that you wouldn't- couldn't touch him, much less win against him in any sort of battle. The untouchable.

"Until next time, right?"

———

It's like a new tide from the moon—how fast your feelings towards him change. He's awful. A criminal, a villain, a murderer. He's the literal icon of everything your against.. or of what you're supposed to be against.

But you understand him. You get his whys and you feel his emotion like you're apart of them. You empathize with him and it makes you so fucking angry at yourself because you know—as a hero—you should never side with a villain like him, no matter how much sense he starts to make.

Blame it on his tone and the smoothness of his words. He's just a swindler.

The next time isn't even a full week later. He technically protects you from some randoms in an alleyway and you catch him in the act of it all, turning to catch whoever was following you, only to be met with cold blue eyes and a pile of ashes in front of you.

Of course, it ultimately ends in the same place it always does; his bed.

His scent and touch linger a little too long after these meetings and you decide once again that this is the last time.

It's a real shame you have to blame it on his body heat and not the undeniable attraction you feel towards him. But you suppose that could count towards it.

His hands are anywhere—everywhere—and they leave a fire in their wake. It's too much and still not enough. All you want is to be closer. Fingers in his hair, pulling him into you until you can't, and then pulling him in more. It's like air, the way you breathe him in. When you finally give into dabi it no longer becomes a crime, but a necessity.

It's overbearing and messy and awful, but you can't help but slip into his embrace and into his warmth.

It's freezing and he's the sun.

Tangled in between cotton sheets, you feel him rub circles into your shoulder and you hear his heartbeat. It's reassuring to know someone like him even has one. Then again, he probably wouldn't have protected you if he didn't have one. How many times has he saved you from harm's way? Honestly, one time is too many.

It almost makes this fling of yours respectable. It almost makes you want to admit you're falling for that smug face and bad attitude.

"We talked about what we'd do if we ran into your league again, you know?"

Why on earth would you bring that up of all things, y/n?

He doesn't need to know anything about your career, much less your plans to take his team down.

"Hmm.. is that so?" Dabi's fingers move up to draw languid circles into your collarbone before shifting slightly to loom over you. His other hand comes to rest on your hip, sending a searing, but welcomed heat to the flesh. You hiss quietly at the sensation, already knowing there's a bruise forming from the activities not too long ago. His lips replace his hand on your neck and he removes his arm from under your head to hold himself up.

Your hand finds his messy hair, fingers delving into the raven locks and tugging gently as he makes his way to the column of your throat and to your ear. He nips at it, nose brushing against your jaw; his hot breath creating goosebumps that rise to your flesh.

"I like knowing you think of me when I'm not around, Angel."

The tone and raspiness of his voice makes you groan, feeling him kiss beneath your jaw. You just know he's smirking at the reactions he elicits from you because you can feel it. He enjoys watching your internal struggle. You can't act like you didn't choose to form whatever this is with him.

You tug his hair to look at him, bringing his face up and he almost looks annoyed that you disrupted his path heading down towards your chest. Your lips ghost over each other's and you lean in for a kiss, only for him to pull away and leave you chasing.

"I also like when you call my name."

Your hand falls from his hair to cup his jaw, practically pulling him forward into a kiss. It's rough to cover up the intimacy and need behind it. His fingers dig into the plush of your hip, thumb pressed into your stomach before his hand goes upward with an ulterior motive.

Pulling away from him before he can initiate anything more, you run your thumb across his lips and the silver bands that adore the lower half of his face. Surprisingly enough, it didn't take long to adjust to the different textures

"And I like how you kiss me."

This almost feels too domestic—not that you mind, but you're positive he knows you're wrapped around his finger, in the palm of his hand. It's impossible to hide it now. Your actions speak louder than the three words on the tip of your tongue, poisoning your mind.

It makes you cringe when you think about it all. How easily he can get into your head and twist your arm. Some nights you catch yourself thinking that maybe you'll be able to convince him to open his eyes a little wider to see your point of view, especially when you've begun to see his. They're horrible—the villains you go against, but he makes them seem so different. You hate how he makes you double think everything.

He playfully nips at your thumb when you push it gently between his lips, teasingly. His hands trail up your arms, pulling them off of him and above your head. You're the one who makes the move to intertwine fingers as he pushes them down harshly on the pillow underneath you. Insatiable. That's what he is. Is it so wrong to keep wanting more?

The sun beginning to rise over the horizon and spilling in through the window doesn't seem to stir him as he makes his descent from your lips.

You already know that by the next morning you'll hate him and that surrounds him. You'll hate yourself for listening to your heart instead of your head simply because it just 'feels so right.' It's a constant cycle between the two of you, and you're sure he feels the same. He doesn't agree with anything you stand by like a hero, but there's something that keeps him close enough.

There's only so much you can expect, even when you deny it over and over.

But god, you have to stop meeting like this.