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y3sterdaysproblem · 3 months ago

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smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter seven

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

wc: 3.8k

It’s been a long time since you’ve woken up next to somebody, apart from a friend after spending the night, or even Matt, as you’d spent many nights in his bed, but you’d never woken up touching him, always staying at opposite sides of the bed, so it was definitely out of the ordinary when your eyes fluttered open and landed on a figure next to you.

It took you a moment to clear your head and remember where you were, focusing on the way your body was chest to chest with another, arms wrapped loosely around you and holding you close, your own arm draped over his waist. It didn’t take you long to register that it was Chris’s soft breaths coming from above you where your face was pressed into his chest.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself, but it didn’t last long when you finally processed the pounding in your head, causing you to groan quietly. “Fuck…” you mumble, pulling away from Chris to roll onto your back, trying not to jostle him too much, but you were unsuccessful, Chris’s hand reaching forward to rest on your stomach, thumb starting to brush over the skin softly.

“I don’t wanna open my eyes,” Chris grumbles, sliding his hand to your waist to pull you back into him, you still laying on your back. His cheek came to rest on your shoulder and you brought your hand up to caress his arm strewn across you.

“Don’t do it, bad idea,” you tell him, turning your head to look at his face for the first time. His hair was sticking up in every direction, though it still looked adorable, and he even had a small white line coming from his mouth and over his cheek, making you giggle quietly. “You drool in your sleep?”

Chris finally peeks one eye open, glaring at you. “I didn’t say anything about you drooling last night.”

Your mouth falls open, cheeks turning red at his words. “Don’t be crude,” you tell him quietly. “I’m never having sex with you again.”

Chris closes his eye again, smirking. “Yeah, right. That was the best sex of your life. Good luck getting over it.”

You pout and turn your body back towards Chris, swinging your leg over his hip. His hand immediately and almost habitually lands on your thigh, rubbing the skin up and down in a comforting manner. “My head hurts, Chris. Can you go buy me tylenol from downstairs?”

Chris groans, leaning in closer to tuck his face in your neck, gently pressing his lips to the front of your throat. “Don’t wanna get outta bed yet,” he tells you, muffled by your skin. “I know what can help with a headache.”

His hand slides up your hip, over your waist, and then comes forward, trailing over your stomach, causing goosebumps to arise. “What are you doing?” You whisper.

Chris slips his hand between your legs and runs his fingers through your folds, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. “I’m helping you with your headache,” he says, smile evident in his voice. He nuzzles his head in a little further and parts his lips to start sucking a mark into your skin.

“Chris, hickeys are so-,” your words are cut off by a small gasp, eyes fluttering shut as his middle fingers dip inside you, still slightly wet from last night. “Trashy,” you finish, breathless.

Chris hums, fingers working slowly inside of you. “Stop me then,” he tells you, knowing you wouldn’t.

You huff, and despite your words you tilt your head for Chris to have better access to your neck, letting him continue to pepper your neck with kisses and purple marks.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you,” Chris tells you, pulling his face back. You open your eyes and look at him, eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. He just smiled at your expression and leaned forward, pressing your lips together firmly but still softly, slipping his fingers out of you to circle your clit, causing a moan to slip through your nose, your leg wrapped around Chris trying to pull him closer.

“Need you,” you mumble against his mouth, sliding your arm around his torso, then turning your body onto your back, pulling him with you so he was hovering above you. “Please?”

Chris pulled away from the kiss and smiled down at you, bringing his hands up to rest on either side of your head. “How could I say no when you ask so nicely?”

You smile up at him shyly, the newfound dynamic between you both still making you nervous. You guys had almost never made eye contact with each other before, barely even speaking to one another unless it was to shoot an insult towards the other, and to go from that to this was such a stark difference and it made you feel even more vulnerable and naked in front of him. However, you didn’t feel insecure. If anything, you’ve never felt more comfortable with someone in this position. You felt safe, cared for. The way his eyes locked onto yours from above you made you feel like he saw you in a way no one else ever had before. It was terrifying and exhilarating all at the same time.

Your legs spread for Chris to rest between, your hand coming down to stroke him a few times, causing him to let out a quiet moan, arms tensing on either side of you. “Don’t be gun shy now, baby,” you tell him, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him closer.

Chris chuckles slightly, shaking his head. “Not gun shy, just tryna not bust the second I put it in.”

You laugh, using the tips of your fingers to guide his dick towards your entrance. “You have the vocabulary of a twelve year old.”

Chris grimaces, staying still. “Can you not compare me to a twelve year old right now?”

You only laugh harder, throwing your head back into the pillow. “If you just fuck me I’ll shut up!”

Chris groans, knowing this isn’t going to end well for him. “I pride myself on how long I last so forgive me for not wanting to finish as soon as we start.”

You roll your eyes, staring up at him where he looked down at you, his eyebrows raised in a ‘duh’ expression. “Yeah but now you’re fucking the girl you’ve dreamed of fucking for years so I think it’s acceptable if you finish fast. C’mon, I neeeed it.” You draw out your words in a whiny tone, trying to pull him in again with your legs.

You’re still giggling when Chris finally pushes inside of you, bottoming out in one go, making you gasp, mood switching instantly. “Fuck, Chris,” you breathe, reaching up to grab his shoulders.

“Now stop running your mouth and shut the fuck up, please,” Chris demands, pulling out slowly and pushing back in just as slow, trying to make sure he lasts as long as possible.

“Y-yes, daddy,” you say in a teasing tone, biting your lip and staring up at Chris with an almost innocent look in your eyes.

Fuck, Chris thinks.

His jaw drops as his hips stutter inside you, his cheeks blushing a deep red.

Your eyes widen and a shit eating grin graces your face, pushing your elbows underneath you to prop yourself up.

“No,” you start in an accusing tone.

“I’m sorry,” Chris replies. “It’s not what you think-“

“I think it’s exactly what I think.”

“It’s not-!”

“A daddy kink?”

“No!”

“You just came the second I called you daddy.”

“I told you I wasn’t going to last!”

You squeal out a laugh, pressing your lips into Chris’s cheek. “You are a dirty, dirty boy, Christopher Owen. Filthy.”

Chris groans and pulls out of you, pushing you down on the bed harshly. “You talk too fucking much, has anyone ever told you that?”

You bounce on the bed slightly as he shoves you, still looking up at him even though he wouldn’t meet your eyes. “A few times, mostly you I think.”

“Yeah, well. You do. You’d really benefit from shutting the fuck up sometimes.” Chris tells you, slowly scooting down the bed.

You were happy to see that the teasing hadn’t completely disappeared, it just had a sweeter undertone to it now, knowing you guys weren’t actually trying to hurt each others’ feelings. “Weren’t telling me to be quiet last night,” you retort sassily.

“I actually liked the shit coming out of your mouth last night,” Chris tells you, lowering himself onto his stomach in between your legs. His mouth latched onto your thigh, kissing softly. “‘Chris, don’t stop, Chris, I’m so close, Chris, you’re so big, mmm, Chris, I’m squirting everywhere’.” He mocked you in a high-pitched voice, placing kisses on your thigh between every sentence.

You pout and look down at him to see him smirking back at you, his arms wrapped around your thighs. “Hey,” you whine. “I was embarrassed, that’s never happened with somebody before.”

He just smiles and dips his head down, watching his own release dripping out of you slowly. “And it’ll never happen with anyone else. Only me, right? This pussy’s all mine.” He dips down and finally attaches his lips to your entrance, groaning at the taste that he already missed so badly.

You moan and drop your head back into the pillow, bringing your hand up to tangle in his messy hair, fingernails scratching at his scalp thoughtfully. “All yours,” you sigh, lightly grinding your hips into his mouth. “That’s.. fuck, that feels so good, you eat me so well.” You praise.

Chris just hums against your clit, making you moan even louder, knowing it’s not going to take you long to finish if he kept this up. “Can I have your fingers, too? Please?”

Chris knew he’d probably never be able to say no to you again in his life, not when you sounded so good asking so nicely, so he squeezed your thigh with his right hand before snaking it around and towards your entrance, easily slipping two fingers back inside you, making you arch your back into him, moans growing louder.

“Right there, fuck, I’m so close,” you whine, head pushing back into the pillow and hips pressing down harder into him, your jaw going slack and breath catching in your throat as you came, fingers grasping Chris’s hair and thighs shaking around his head.

He continued to work his tongue and lips on your clit as you came, fingers fucking you through your orgasm. You finally let out the breath you were holding after a few moments, using your hand to push Chris’s head away from you, making him laugh. “You okay?” He asks, stilling his fingers inside you.

You nod and clamp your legs shut, whimpering quietly. “Done,” you say simply, and he pulls his fingers out of you, wiping them on the bed sheets.

He crawls back up to your face and places a kiss on your nose, meeting your eyes as you tried to catch your breath. “You are so fucking sexy, you know that?”

You shake your head in disagreement, looking away from Chris, embarrassed. He was having none of that, though. He reached up and grabbed your jaw, forcing your eyes back to his. “I’m serious. To me, you are the sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. I’ll tell you that shit every day until you believe me. I’ll eat you out, fuck you, touch you, anywhere you want, just so you know.”

You smile meekly, appreciating the sentiment. “Thanks,” you whisper. Chris nods and squeezes your cheeks together to pout out your lips, leaning down to kiss them softly.

“How’s your head?” He asks when he pulls away, making you laugh.

“Never had any complaints,” you say, giggling through your words, making Chris drop his head between his shoulders, muttering a quiet ‘oh my fucking god’ under his breath. “Good, actually. I just really want a cheeseburger now.” You say honestly, making Chris laugh.

“Alright, well, get up and get dressed and I’ll buy you as many cheeseburgers as you want.” Chris climbs out of bed and starts rummaging through the room to find your guys’ discarded clothes strewn around the hotel room.

You parked your car outside the triplets’ house, turning your head to smile at Chris, who pouted back at you. “Do you have to go home?” He asks, sounding like a little kid who didn’t get their way.

You laugh at the tone of his voice. “Yeah, I desperately need to shower and take off my makeup. Plus, my hair’s a mess, I stink, and I’m covered in hickeys. I need to put makeup on these before I come over otherwise they’re going to know.”

Chris groaned and leaned over the center console, placing his right hand on your thigh covered by your dress from last night, sliding his hand up underneath the fabric. “You could shower with me,” he tells you, leaning into you and pressing his lips to your shoulder. “Let them find out, who cares?”

You grab Chris’s wrist and push it away, making him pull his face away as well. “I care,” you say sternly. “I don’t want to just tell them we’re fucking, I want to have a real conversation with you about what we’re doing first. What if you decide you don’t want me and go back to being a dick? Then it’ll have been a waste to tell them and now it’s awkward between everybody.”

Chris furrows his eyebrows as you speak, feeling slightly offended. “I want you,” he starts, voice serious. “I’m never going to not want you and it’s not just fucking to me. So if you need time that’s okay but don’t ever think that I don’t want you because I do.”

You let out a small breath of relief and nod, smiling shyly at Chris. “Okay,” you whisper. “I still want to wait, especially to tell Matt. He deserves more than just me looking a mess to tell him I slept with his little brother.”

Chris rolls his eyes, annoyed. “I am not his little brother, he just came out first.”

“Which makes him older.”

“Does not.”

“Definitely does.”

“Does not!”

“You sure sound like an annoying little brother right now,” you tell Chris, eyebrows raised. He huffs and sits back in his seat, crossing his arms.

“You’re annoying,” he mumbles, staring straight ahead.

“Yeah, whatever. Go inside so I can shower please, I feel disgusting.” Your eyes rake over your body, trying to not focus on the way the bottoms of your feet were dirty from not wearing your heels, or how your underwear were thrown in the backseat, leaving you completely naked under this dress.

Chris wipes off his grumpy pout and looks back at you. “Can you come over later? I can sneak you in through the door in my room and we can watch a movie or something. We obviously don’t have to have sex I just really want to see you.”

You feel your ears start to heat up at his words, feeling giddy at the fact that he really did want to see you and spend time together. You couldn’t really fully believe this was happening, but you weren’t complaining at all. You nod your head, a closed mouth smile blooming on your lips.

“Great,” Chris smiles, leaning over to plant a kiss on your lips, hand reaching up to rest on your cheek. “Let me know when you’re home. I’ll text you once my brothers go to their rooms and you can spend the night.”

You kiss Chris one more time, leaning into him gently. “Okay,” you tell him once you’ve pulled away. “I’ll see you later.”

Chris nods in agreement and lets himself out of the car, waving at you from the doorway before it shuts and he disappears.

You stare at the door for a few moments before turning back to stare at your steering wheel, a small, excited giggle leaving your lips as you process everything that has happened over the last twelve hours, finding it a bit hard to believe.

Your phone pings from where it sat in your cup holder, ripping you from your thoughts. You grab it and look at the lockscreen, laughing loudly when you read the message.

from: chris sturns

‘i miss you’

It’s dark out now, but you weren’t super tired as you took a pretty long nap after your shower, still a little hungover despite your efforts to kick it, however now that you’d slept you feel like a new person.

You were sat on your couch snuggled up under a blanket when you got a text, and it didn’t take a genius to guess who it was from.

‘come over’

You giggle when you read it, starting to type back.

from: you

‘you come here, i’m comfy’

from: chris sturns

‘i don’t have a car’

from: you

‘that’s never stopped you before’

The messages stopped there and you assumed maybe Chris had given in and ordered an uber to come over, but when ten minutes had passed, fifteen even, and you hadn’t heard from him, you think maybe he just didn’t want to argue and gave up.

You don’t think much of it, not really minding whether he came over or not, but the sound of your bell ringing startles you, heart picking up pace slightly. You throw your large blanket off of you and stand up, walking quickly to your front door.

You’re shocked when you pull it open and see an out of breath Chris standing there, bracing himself on the doorframe as he heaved. “Chris?!” You squeal. “Why are you breathing like that? Why are you… damp?”

Chris swallows thickly, meeting your eyes. “I… ran,” he chokes out. “Thought I was still… in shape… I’m not.”

You laugh loudly, reaching out to grab his arm and pull him inside. “Why did you run?!”

Chris kicks his shoes off, still trying to catch his breath. “I didn’t want to wait for an uber and I couldn’t ask Matt. I thought you were way closer. Never doing that again.”

“You’re so dumb, Chris, now you’re all sweaty and gross!” You tell him, walking back to the couch and sitting down, legs crossed.

“‘M not that sweaty, it’ll go away.” Chris sits next to you and reaches out for you, which you happily respond to, swinging over to straddle his lap, smiling down at him.

“I missed you,” he tells you, head leaning on the back of the couch as he looks at you, hands rubbing over the tops of your thighs.

“I missed you, too,” you coo, one hand threading through his hair sweetly. “It’s so weird to hear you be so nice to me. Feel like I entered an alternate reality or something.”

Chris chuckles. “I have a lot of time to make up so get used to it.”

You hum and lean down, pressing your lips to Chris’s gently, feeling your body relax into him as you kissed, like you’ve been waiting all day to feel his touch again.

The kiss stayed sweet and tender, your lips moving together slowly as his hands trailed over your body, pulling you impossibly closer to him.

Chris pulls away first, licking his lips as his eyes reopened and landed on your face. “Wanna watch a movie? I could order us some food.”

You nod your head eagerly. “Haven’t eaten since earlier, that sounds good.”

Which is exactly what led to you and Chris sitting on your bed with a large towel laid out in front of you guys, way too much food splayed out on top of it, and a movie playing on your tv that was mounted on the wall.

“We are not going to finish this,” you garble, mouth full of fries.

Chris laughs at you and covers his mouth, looking at you where you sat next to him, a smile on your face despite the fact that you were chewing. “Gross, dude, close your mouth.”

You only laugh more, reaching out to shove his shoulder. “Fuck you.”

Chris smirks, reaching his hand out to cup over your clothed core, causing you to squeal in shock. “Later,” he says, kissing your cheek. “That’s what the towel’s for, right? Gonna show me your party trick again?”

Your eyes widen and your jaw drops. “No! No party trick! How bout I tell your brothers about your party trick?”

Chris laughs, shrugging his shoulders in confusion. “What’s my party trick?”

“The one where you bust as soon as a girl says daddy.” You say, deadpan.

Chris rolls his eyes. “It’s not because a girl called me daddy, that’s happened plenty of times, it’s because you called me daddy and I already told you I wasn’t gonna last. You’re too sexy for me, I don’t know what to tell you!”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s what they all say,” you groan, stuffing more fries in your mouth. “Hey, did you turn your location off?” You ask, remembering that his brothers had both of your locations on and if they saw he was here, they’d find you two out immediately.

Chris hums, pulling his phone out and showing you the back where you saw it was an older, purple model. “Left it at home, brought my work phone. If they check they’re just gonna see that I’m at home.”

You nod your head, signaling how impressed you were. “Alright, I see you. Little liar.”

Chris drops his phone back on the bed, turning to you. “Nuh uh, you are the liar. I wanted to tell them.”

“Doesn’t make me a liar!” You wail, pouting in annoyance. “I just… wanna figure out what this is first, is that so wrong?”

Chris puts all of his food down and sighs, maneuvering his body so he was facing you, hands in his lap. “I told you already. I want you, in whatever capacity you’ll let me have you. If you just want to sleep together, I can deal with that. If you want to be together, I’d fucking love that.”

You stare up at Chris, eyes searching his to see if you saw any hesitation behind them, any embellishment to the truth, but all you could see was sincerity.

“We don’t have to label this but I just want you to know where I stand. I’m not talking to anybody, I don’t have dating apps, I only have eyes for you.” Chris trails a hand up to your back, rubbing gently as he spoke. You just nodded at his words, believing him completely.

“But, um… if we don’t have a label, and we do want to eventually… be together,” you start shyly, moving your eyes down to your comforter. “Can we still sneak around and have sex? That’s kind of really hot.”

Chris nods his head enthusiastically, smiling wide. “Oh yeah. That was never a question. I’ll never be able to keep my hands off you again.”

You laugh, happy he’s on the same page. “Perfect.”

a/n: sooo…

smoke and mirrors was SUPPOSED to end here, but you guys BULLIED ME into continuing it so here’s to the beginning of the sneaking around portion of s&m 😈

thanks for all the love babies keep it up please 🖤

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @mattsside @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion @birkinbratsworld @sturnburbs @aria003 @poppingmypussy4chris @victoryouactuallydidthis @seluky10 @annsx03 @ouchywow @sluttybitchformattsturniolo

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt x reader #matt x you #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris x y/n #chris x you #chris x reader #sturniolo x you #sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo #smoke and mirrors

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bucketbueckers · 2 months ago

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MESS ME UP

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader wc: 6.1k content warnings: language, abuse of italics, grammatically incorrect past tense flashback, smut robbery(?), pretty mature but nothing graphic synopsis: your friends invited you out to a frat party to celebrate the men’s team winning the NCAA tournament where you bump into paige bueckers, the girl who you're in love with and who you ghosted for a month after hooking up with her. a much-needed conversation at the party forces you to revisit difficult memories and give her the closure she’s been seeking. notes: idk what this is! based loosely off of 'friends' and 'mess me up' by chase atlantic. unfortunately the smut robbery line is for real, like it's smut in the way lacroix tastes like real fruit (which is to say it's not smut, but like concepts of smut... 😝 (i've never had lacroix idk if this is accurate)) side note i hate writing in past tense but doing a traditional flashback scene is corny as hell! idk if it matters but this is set april 2024 (w/ a february 2024 flashback); doesn't really affect anything, so... anyway, second post on tumblr, lmk if we're rocking w it 🙂‍↕️

For the record, you didn’t want to come to this party.

It’s hot, sweaty, loud, and all you can smell is the same brand of men’s cologne and weed. The air is both stale and somehow feels wet and all you can think about is getting back to your apartment so you can shower and go to bed. You had a mock trial bright and early the next morning and your law professor was a stickler for punctuality and presentability – showing up with wrinkled clothes and smelling like a frat party was a sure-fire way to fail, and you had too much riding on your grades to let that happen.

The frat (whose name you’ve already forgotten) was celebrating the NCAA tournament win for the UCONN men’s basketball team. They’d apparently gone back to back, which you guess is cool, but you swore off basketball a long time ago. If you had your way, you’d be at home, three steps into your skincare routine, but you let peer pressure get the best of you and allowed your friends to drag you out.

It’d be fun, they said. You never come out with us! You’re spending all this tuition money and you’re not even taking advantage of it. How can you say you don’t like it if you’ve never tried it?

You only remember that your friends are law students, too, in the most unfortunate of moments when they put their persuasiveness to the test. In the most unfortunate of moments, you’re also reminded of the fact that they’re college students, too, because they’re leaving you at the door and rushing off to find something to drink. You weren’t upset they dragged you out. Not necessarily. You were grown enough to say no. Perhaps you’d simply set your expectations too high when they begged you to come out and you thought they would spend at least a little bit of time with you before doing their own thing. But sure. It’s whatever.

So, here you are – standing alone in the corner of a frat party, watching as drunk college students grind against each other, laugh, and have a good time. A part of you feels like you’re missing out, but as you watch somebody throw up into a plant, you feel like you’re just fine where you are.

You’re drawn from your thoughts when a man wearing a backwards cap suddenly shows up next to you. “Yo, you thirsty?” he yells over the music, thrusting a red solo cup into your empty hands. You don’t have the time to say anything to him before he’s grinning at you, eyes red and hooded. “Come dance with me. You’re too pretty to be standin’ here all alone.”

You hear her before you see her.

“She’s good, bro, trust,” Paige interrupts smoothly, throwing a casual arm around your shoulders. You feel too much like a damsel in distress, but sensing the gravity of the situation, you flash the guy a light smile and lean into Paige slightly. Her grip tightens. You try to not let it bother you.

He raises his hands, surrendering. “My bad. You got it.”

Paige hums, unconvinced, as he leaves. When he’s out of your sight, you wrench yourself out of her grip. “Thank you, but not necessary,” you tell her sharply, red solo cup still in your hand. If this was how your night was going to go, then you need to be a little tipsy to survive it. You barely have it halfway to your mouth before Paige is pulling it out of your grasp, pouring its contents into a potted plant and chucking the cup into a nearby trash can. “What the fu–”

“First of all,” she begins, arms crossing protectively, “never accept a drink at a party that you didn’t pour, didn’t see someone else pour, or a drink that’s already open; matter fact, don’t accept a drink unless you opened it or brought it in yourself.”

You roll your eyes slightly. “This is Storrs, Paige. Do the frats really get down like that here?”

Her gaze is unimpressed. “You’re the law student, ma, you tell me the numbers. Second of all, you’re welcome. That was Kylin. He doesn’t take no for an answer in the first place but he’s all kinds of fucked up right now. I’d say I did you a favor but I wanted to talk to you, anyway.”

“Funny,” you deadpan. “Here? Now?”

“What are you doing here?” she asks you, ignoring your snippy words. “Thought this wasn’t your scene.”

You pause. “It’s not,” you confirm. “Jos and Chelsea wanted me to come out. Figured I should be a good friend once in a while.”

Paige raises a brow. “Jos and Chelsea are too busy playing strip poker with dudes from Kappa Phi to keep an eye on you, and you’re worried about having to be a good friend?”

“First of all,” you say in the know-it-all tone that Paige had used on you, “I don’t need them to keep an eye on me.” The blonde hums again, not entirely convinced, and the heat of her gaze makes you stumble over your words slightly. “Second of all, why do you even care?”

“We’re friends,” she states.

“We were once,” you correct, voice softening. It’s no secret that you and Paige had fucked up whatever you had going on. It’s never been clear whose fault your fallout was (it was yours), nor could the two of you ever agree on what destroyed you (you would argue that you shouldn’t hook up with your friends, especially not the ones you were in love with). It was a messy situation that you were sure the two of you couldn’t recover from (you didn’t want to be friends with someone you couldn’t have; Paige just wants you to give her the chance to prove you otherwise).

“Sure,” she agrees half-heartedly, knowing your spiel by heart now. “Kinda fucked up you think I need a reason to care.” You don’t dignify that with a proper response, feeling something strangely like guilt corroding your heart. “Come outside and get some air with me? Please? Just wanna talk, no funny shit, I promise.”

You sigh, feeling yourself fall back into all too familiar routines. You had a near inability to say no to Paige most times – it was the reason why you had to put a stop to your friendship. And here you are now, undoing all of the progress you’ve made since you’ve been apart (a small part of you knows better; you’re moving forward but you’re not really doing any better. You’re not progressing. You’re just stuck now, only this time, you have less than you did before). “Jos and Chelsea–”

“–made their choice,” she finishes for you. “And their choice was strip poker with a guy named Anthony,” she adds solemnly. You can’t help but quirk a smile at the absurdity of your life right now. “C’mon, please? It fucking reeks in here. They’ve got a porch swing outside and it’s all quiet and shit.”

“You’ve always had a way with words,” you tease.

“You comin’ or nah?” she asks, but you shove her forward (she lets you) and she leads you through the crowd to the door. They part like the Red Sea and you can’t help but admire the way she silently commands the room, feeling a flutter in your chest you try desperately to stomp out. It’s like a fire; all it takes is a small spark before it eventually grows out of proportion. You know better now.

The door shuts behind the two of you and you sit on the porch swing. You can still hear the music’s pounding bass, but it’s muted. You feel like you can hear your thoughts now. The tension in your shoulders eases as you take in the crisp night air, the crickets’ chirps, the occasional owl’s hoot. For a moment, you forget all of the complicated history between you and Paige; the way she held your hand as she kissed up your thigh, the way she stayed afterwards, cleaning you up and bringing you water. It almost seems as Paige is reliving all of it, too, as she looks at you, and that thought is sobering enough to bring you back to the moment.

You finally get a good look at what she’s wearing. It’s nothing outstanding; a gray Nike tech suit and a pair of dunks, although she’s opted to leave her jacket unzipped, revealing the crop top underneath. She’s dressed for comfort, though the most unfair part of it all is how good she looks when she’s not trying. Her cheekbones are sharp, eyes blue and wide and alert, and you can’t help but notice how fitting a slick-back bun is on her.

This was precisely why you needed your space. You couldn’t control your thoughts or feelings. It was manageable when you minded your business – the phrase out of sight, out of mind did wonders for you and you were usually busy enough that she only crossed your mind once or twice a week when the student population was buzzing about a recent game. But now? Now you’re fucked. You’re inches away from her and you’ve allowed her to pull you back into her orbit. She’s the Earth and you’re a meteor – any closer and you won’t be able to come back from the damage you would do to each other. She would survive, you’re sure, but you’d be destroyed in the process.

“So,” she says slowly. You avert your eyes, staring at anything but her. “How you been?”

“Good,” you lie. “Keeping busy.” That part was less of a lie, but it wasn’t her business to know.

Paige has always been good at reading you, so she gazes at you like she’s not convinced. “I think we’re overdue a conversation,” she says, surprising you. “A real one. No more of this running in circles bullshit.”

“Okay,” you agree hesitantly. You finally meet her eyes. They’re strikingly blue, disarming, and you feel an odd mixture of guilt and longing eat away at your insides. She looks like she’s drinking you in, like she’s trying to understand why you did what you did; her eyes soften in the dim glow of the porchlight and you can’t help but flush under her gaze. She always understands you in spite of how often you push her away – she seems to understand why you keep her at arm’s length, too, and it’s then that you fully understand how overwhelming it is to be known.

“Why did you leave?” she asks finally. You have to swallow back the bile in your throat. “The morning after.” Her clarification does nothing to soothe the turmoil in your stomach. “I thought…” Paige’s throat bobs as she tries to find the words. “It wasn’t a hook up. It meant something to me – everything to me. So why did you leave like that shit ain’t matter to you?”

That night in February comes back to you in the blur of a memory. You’ve thought about it so often that you could write a play-by-play of it; every single unremarkable detail comes back to you in a flourish of vibrant color – the way the floor felt beneath your feet as Paige guided you into her room, the slight scratch of her nail against the base of your neck as her hands found purchase in your hair. Paige was wrong. It meant something to you, too much to you. You often remind yourself, if it meant that much, why was it easier to run away? Jumping off of a diving board into a pool conceptually means the same thing as jumping off of a cliffside into beach waves; the jump isn’t the hard part, it’s the reminder of the distance between your feet and the surface. Your feelings for Paige are too consuming. It’s easier to not make the jump at all than it is to worry if you’ll be able to come up for air.

She was in high spirits, drunk off of their win against Villanova. They weren’t an opponent you’d typically call home for, but the Huskies were having a tough season with several injured players and a lot of underclassmen. It was close, 67-46; Paige had contributed to a little less than half of their points overall with a solid 31. She was happy, the rest of her team was happy, and she’d begged you to come over to her apartment for the post-game festivities – which was usually games and snacks as they weren’t big on drinking during the season. You’d nearly refused at first. It was supposed to be a small team get-together and you had some work to catch up on. You eventually gave in, like you always do. Paige had flashed her typical, charming smile, looping an arm around your waist, and you were a goner.

The team accepted you like you were one of their own, too. That was new. You didn’t spend as much time with them as you did with Jos and Chelsea, but it felt like you knew them better than you knew Jos and Chelsea, anyway. Ice and KK were two menacing peas in a pod – they were like sisters separated at birth and whenever they were together, something chaotic was bound to happen, but they loved and protected fiercely despite the way they teased each other and the team. Caroline was like the team mother and many of the girls called her such. Nika was intense on the court, but off of it, she was Paige’s twin through and through – they always had something to say to each other and their banter often brought smiles to everyone’s faces. Azzi was sweet and well-loved by the team (and the student population in general). She introduced you to her and Paige’s son Ines, which confused you at first, but Paige threw her arm over your shoulder and assured you that they’re only co-parenting because Carol has enough children and they didn’t want Ines to be a ward of the court. You couldn’t help but smile at that, leaning into Paige – something about the team’s dynamic healed you a little, and Ines joked that Paige went out and got her a stepmom.

You felt the blush creep up your neck as Paige tightened her grip around you slightly. “I didn’t want you to find out like this, son,” Paige had said somberly, pretending to look sad as Azzi rolled her eyes. “Your mother was havin’ an affair–”

“Oh, bullshit!” Azzi cried. The entire room broke out into fits of giggles.

“Now I understand why Paige wifed up a lawyer,” KK said in between laughter. “Tryna get a discount on that divorce, huh?”

The team had tears in their eyes from their excitement – you didn’t have the heart to tell them you were hoping to specialize in civil litigation, so you just laughed along. The conversation continued to flow as games were played. Nika was exceptionally bad at UNO and Paige never let her hear the end of it. You guys only managed to play a couple of rounds before Nika suddenly got good and played a +4, prompting Ice and KK to stack +4s of their own onto it – Paige stared in disbelief for a solid thirty seconds before picking up 12 cards and rage-quitting one turn later when KK skipped her.

“There, there,” you’d said, lips trembling as you tried not to laugh at the look on Paige’s face. You rubbed her shoulder comfortingly, and she pushed you off her gently, her own lips quirking in amusement. “Show this card game who’s boss.”

“Bro,” she grumbled, but she couldn’t keep the smile off her face as she leaned back into the couch, her arm finding home over the back of your shoulders once more. You remember wondering if this is what normal felt like, what finally finding a community was like – you fit in too well with Paige’s teammates and they made you feel at home. Being near Paige made you feel at home. She was talented that way. She had an uncanny ability to make people feel at ease, regaling them with jokes and an endless supply of charm. When you realized you were in love with Paige Bueckers, you weren’t surprised about it. If anything, you might have been a little upset with yourself – you were sure you weren’t the only person she’d drawn in unintentionally, ensnared in a web whose latticework was meticulously shaped like basketball netting.

As the night went on, more and more laughs were shared until the clock reached midnight and many of Paige’s teammates got up to leave. Everyone shared hugs and affectionate goodnights. All of them even looped around to hug you – which was… nice. Paige shared her apartment with Azzi and Aubrey, so they retired to their own rooms after curious glances to you and Paige, still curled up together on the couch.

The apartment was quiet. You could hear the ring of silence as it enveloped the two of you, Paige’s gentle breathing, and the tick of the clock. It was oddly comforting; normally, it would have lulled you into a drowsy state, but you couldn’t focus on anything but the heat of Paige’s body next to yours, the brush of her thumb against your shoulder. Feeling both unmoored and tethered, you shift next to Paige, gathering her attention. “I should go,” you’d whispered. Her thumb halted.

“Stay,” she requested. She tilted her head. Her gaze met yours. You expected her eyes to be half-closed, dim with sleep. The rasp of her voice was attributed to a tone you knew she’d adopt when she was exhausted, but her eyes were wide, alert, dilated, a blue so dark you were sure you almost mistook the sheer want for something else. “Stay,” she murmured again. “Please.”

“Yeah,” you agreed almost breathlessly, feeling her hand squeeze your shoulder gently. “Sure.” She untangles from you and stands from the couch, offering you her hand, and you take it. She led you seamlessly through the dark of her apartment into her bedroom, where she released you long enough to rifle through her drawers, having found you a pair of shorts and an old t-shirt for you to wear to bed. Paige pointed you towards the bathroom. You changed into her clothes. Your fingers had shook with anticipation at the sheer domesticity of it all as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Your – her – t-shirt read HOPKINS GIRLS BASKETBALL. It had all felt so different now. You hadn’t been sure at the moment if it terrified you or excited you.

You exited the bathroom to find Paige’s back to you, adjusting the band of a pair of basketball shorts around her hips. Her hair was out of her bun and it cascaded down her back in loose, wavy strands; you’d felt an inexplicable urge to run your fingers through it, to find out if her hair was as soft as it looked. She was wearing a dark black sports bra. The two of you were friends. Granted, you were in love with her, but the sight of her wearing nothing but ball shorts and her Nike bra shouldn’t have done the things it did to you.

“Which side is yours?” you’d asked, mostly to break the silence. You ignored the crack in your voice. Paige paid it no mind as she turned, which forced you to avert your eyes, trying not to glance at her abdominals.

“Don’t matter,” she responded. You watched the way she moved, sitting low on the bed, legs long and stark against the purple of her comfort. “You gettin’ in or what?” You hoped she couldn’t see the flush on your neck. You slid into bed next to her, hoping to maintain some sort of distance, but she refused to let you get too far. She slung her arm over your waist, fingers brushing against your skin where your shirt rode up. Her breath was even against your neck and the heat of her body nearly turned your brain into mush. “This okay?” she asked, tone softer.

“Mhm,” you hummed, afraid to speak or you might fuck up and tell her just how okay it actually was. Paige was just a touchy person, you tried to remind yourself as you felt the tickle of her hair against the nape of your neck. This doesn’t mean anything to her. It was all for naught. It did little to quell the way your heart raced, the way the heat pooled low in your belly.

“You looked good tonight,” she said casually. You tried to stop the goosebumps as they rose on your flesh. “You always do.”

Unable to think of something smart to say, you shifted your body slightly, your fingers splaying over the arm she held tight around your midsection. “Oh, yeah?” Her fingers brushed a little lower on your stomach, grazing the waistband of your shorts.

She hummed an affirmative, pulling you tighter against herself, and you could barely breathe. It was overwhelming in the best way – she was all around you. Physically, you felt as though you were in her skin as she greedily pulled you in. The scent of her was everywhere; the shampoo that seeped into her pillows, the cologne on her neck. Your hair stood on end as her lips brushed almost imperceptibly against the shell of your ear. “‘M glad you came tonight,” she whispered.

You flipped on your side, face-to-face with Paige. Her arm moved enough for you to get situated and once you were, her hand found the small of your back, her palm warm against your skin. You can’t help the way your breath hitched, even as Paige’s eyes seemed to take in the stuttering rise and fall of your chest. Having found some courage, you poked her cheek, drawing her eyes back up to yours. “What are we doing?” you asked finally, feeling uncomfortably vulnerable. Her brow raised slightly, the dark blue of her gaze illuminated by the streaks of moonlight through her window. “No funny shit, Paige. You touch me like you want me, claim me in front of your friends.” You searched her eyes as she fell silent. “What are we doing?” you repeated, voice firmer.

“I want you,” she confessed after a few heartbeats of contemplation. She leaned in closer to you, your noses nearly brushing, and she continued, “I want you so fucking bad. Don’t wanna do anything you’ont want, but–”

Your lips were on hers before she had the chance to finish. She responded eagerly, one hand firm around your waist as she flipped the both of you over, pulling you to straddle her waist. You leaned down, your chest against hers, hands on each side of her neck. You felt the thundering of her pulse under your fingers. It was stabilizing in a sense – words were one thing, but to feel how badly you’d been able to affect her, too, did wonders for your growing ego. Paige’s hands had found your hips, keeping you pressed against her body.

You parted briefly to catch your breath. Paige’s chest heaved, her lips shiny and swollen. She was hard to look away from. For a moment, you’d wondered if this was worth it. Your heart had raced, beating uncontrollably; it felt like too much and not enough at the same time. Everything would change between the two of you. Was one night with Paige worth the risk of losing your friendship? You feel too strongly, too much, overwhelmingly. You’ve been told by an ex or two that you were simply too much. You wouldn’t want to subject Paige to that.

Her right hand met your face, tracing the line of your bottom lip. “You want this?” she asked. Her eyes were blown wide, more pupil than iris, but something about it entranced you. The desire in her eyes had brought fresh heat to your stomach, but coupled with the fact she’d be willing to stop made your heart beat a little faster. She was enough to quell your worries, settling the irregularity of your thoughts. You nodded, leaning down to connect your lips again, but her hand was insistent against your jaw as she held you back. “Words,” she commanded.

You’d barely resisted an eyeroll. “Yes, Paige,” you affirmed. Her hand loosened, eyes searching yours. “Want you.”

Her smile turned smug. “Yeah? How bad?”

The tease sent white-hot desire straight through your body as your hips rolled against hers, trying to find some relief. Her hands fall back down to your waist, helping you rut against her thigh as a shared flush creeped up both of your necks. “You gonna touch me?” you breathed against her lips. Her breath came out a disjointed stutter when you guided her hand to the swell of your ass. It was unnatural – Paige was so sure, so confident. To have her nearly at your mercy was like a drug through your veins, but you didn’t want her there. You wanted Paige fully in control; you wanted her to take care of you, to give you everything you’d fantasized about for months on end. You wanted her so bad it rewired the coding in your brain. There was something about her that broke down all of the walls you spent years building.

Your actions and words had been the only permission she needed. One of her hands gripped the flesh of your ass as the other one cupped the back of your neck. Her nail scratched you inadvertently as she dragged you back down to connect your lips – the slight echo of pain caused you to whine against her lips, a sound she swallowed greedily before she flipped the two of you over once more. Your head fell back against her pillows as she rucked up your shirt, finding that you’d opted to not wear a bra. She groaned indulgently, one large hand coming up to squeeze one of your breasts and her mouth finding the other one.

You ran your fingers through her hair, gripping it tight as she lavished you with attention. “So fuckin’ pretty,” she murmured against you, voice dripping with want. She pressed her knee against your core as she found her way back to your lips, kissing you deeply and drawing another whimper from your parted lips. It sent a jolt through your body. “You gon’ let me do what I want, huh? Get you right?”

“Paige, please,” you begged, all of the shame having left your body as you ground down against her knee, feeling the pleasure and relief simultaneously. “Fuck, do what you want, I don’t care – just please fucking touch me.”

She shushed you, lips back on yours, tongue brushing against your lips like she was trying to take whatever you’d give her. And at that point, you would have given her anything if it meant she’d stop teasing you. “I got you, ma, jus’ relax,” she whispered against your lips. She trailed a blazing path down your chest, leaving hickies as she went. Paige reached the waistband of your shorts; she pressed a sloppy kiss to your navel before bunching her fingers in and pulling them off, throwing them haphazardly into the room.

The air was cold against you. You were breathing heavily by then, eyes squeezed shut in anticipation. Her hand untwisted yours from the bedsheets, linking your fingers together, and that touch alone was enough to bring you back down to earth. “I got you,” she promised again, reminding you, pressing diligent kisses against the inside of your thigh. You relaxed ever so slightly against her, feeling as though you could breathe a little easier, but your body was still incredibly high strung. Paige squeezed your hand. Then her mouth was on you, and you were done for.

She held your hand as she went down on you, talking you through it until your orgasm reached its peak and you sunk into the bed bonelessly. She didn’t release you when she came back up, her smile a mix of smugness, pride, and quiet adoration. Paige kissed your knuckles, your cheeks, your lips, drawing a contented sigh out of you. “You good?” she asked, brushing your hair out of your eyes, hand cradling your jaw.

Exhausted, all you could do was hum an affirmative. Paige flashed a small smile again, pressing a kiss to your forehead and crawling off the bed, much to your surprise. “Lemme get you some water,” she said. “‘M coming right back, I promise.”

You nodded wordlessly, closing your eyes and sinking back into the pillows as your breathing evens out. She left her room, the door shutting with a silent click. In the silence of Paige’s bedroom, curled up in her purple comforter, all you can think about is how the future of your friendship has inexplicably changed forever. She said she wanted you. Did she just mean sexually? Paige was always intentional in her communication, a byproduct of her media training. Tears brimmed your eyes when you considered the idea that you might have just been another Wednesday night fling for her. Here you are again, feeling stupid about the overwhelming feelings you harbored for Paige despite your better judgment. The worst part was that it wasn’t her fault. You got your hopes up.

You wiped your eyes when you heard the door open again. Paige crossed the room, cracking open a cold bottle of water for you and pressing it to your lips. You nearly forgot about your inner turmoil when she smiled at you again, having thrown her hair back up into its bun. “Gonna clean you up, okay?” she informed you. At your nod, she runs a warm washcloth between your thighs, getting rid of the lingering stickiness. She carefully redressed you, squeezing your hips gently, and you’re left feeling so incredibly conflicted that you’re breathless with the anxiety. Paige disposed of the washcloth and curled up next to you in bed once more, an arm wrapping around your midsection. You’d told each other goodnight, but as her breath evens out against your neck, your mind races.

You slept fitfully through the night. And when morning light rolled around, you extracted yourself from Paige’s grip, sliding a pillow into her arms. The nervousness and all of your overthinking thoughts made you queasy with grief. You were in love with Paige Bueckers. That much was true. You were too head over heels for her to return to normalcy; you couldn’t. At that point, it would be easier for you to not be friends with her at all than to pretend like she wasn’t everything you’d ever wanted.

As she slept, you casted one last guilty look over your shoulder and you ran.

But that night in February has long since passed, and on the porch swing on a much warmer night in April, Paige stares at you in desperation, seeking answers to the questions you’ve withheld for over a month. “Why did you leave?” she asks you again. “Fuck, tell me the truth, lie to me, whatever, just please give me something to work with.”

“It was overwhelming,” you finally admit, twisting the rings on your fingers. You feel terrible as you glance at Paige, whose eyes soften when she takes in your expression.

“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shoulda seen that something was wrong.”

You close your eyes, lips trembling. You’re touched at how she instantly takes responsibility for your fuck ups, thinking she’s done something wrong. “No, Paige,” you correct her. “Fuck. It wasn’t you. It was never you.” You pick at a loose string on your shorts. She stares at you, waiting for you to continue. “You were so gentle. That night meant everything to me, and that was the problem. I wanted you so bad – Jesus Christ, I was in love with you for months. I don’t do casual. I always feel too strongly and I loved you so much that it was fucking overwhelming. I woke up and nearly lost it because I couldn’t handle the idea of having you like that and having to pretend like I didn’t want you like that forever. It was so much easier to run and not face the possibility of having to be your friend when all I’ve wanted was more.”

When you finally look back to Paige, her eyes are wide with something that looks strangely like grief, like you’ve pulled the rug from under her feet and watched as she fell. As you think about it, that’s probably what you’ve done, anyway. She spent so long thinking that your fallout was her fault, that it was something she’d done, but the ugly truth of the matter was that you were too scared of the way you felt for her that you ran from it instead. Paige runs a frustrated hand over her jaw, her expression nearly unreadable. You frown. “I’m sorry,” you say quietly, knowing that your apology is long overdue. You fucked up so incredibly bad with her. Your brain remembers her prior words, the ‘It wasn’t a hook up. It meant something to me – everything to me,’ and you suddenly feel like an idiot. God, it was mutual this entire time and you were too caught up in yourself to realize it.

“You think too fucking much,” Paige says finally, and you hardly have the time to react before she’s kissing you, her hands gripping your hips. You nearly gasp against her lips before you fully register what’s happening. Sinking into it, you wrap your arms around her neck, feeling suddenly like everything is finally aligning, that all of your blurred focal points sharpen. When she pulls away, her eyes are alight with understanding. “So, lemme get this straight. You pushed me away ‘cause you’re in love with me, then we fucked, and you thought I wouldn’t wife you up?”

You frown, feeling stupid all over again. “Well, when you put it like that…yeah?”

Paige sighs. “Fuck. Look at my lawyer – you’d send dudes to jail left and fucking right ‘cause you jump to conclusions too early. Thank God you’re not going into criminal defense.”

You shove her away from you, feeling the embarrassment bloom on your cheeks. You can’t help but laugh as you say, “You’re an asshole.”

She guffaws, reaching for your hands, intertwining your fingers. “Says you! You ghosted me for a month and let me think I fucked us up. Jesus Christ.” She twists the ring on your finger mindlessly as she searches for the right words. “Okay, lemme be really fucking clear. I’m in love with you, too. Like, I’m fuckin’ crazy about you. There is nobody but you. You aren’t too much for me – I love you for you, no ifs, ands, buts, whys, hows, nothing. I know you thought you were protecting us by pushin’ me away, but you gotta let me make that choice, too. I want this with you, alright? Will you gimme that chance?”

Her words leave the two of you in silence. You can still hear the chirp of the crickets, the thrumming from the party indoors. You can feel the way her thumb brushes over your knuckles, the way her eyes bore into yours, patiently waiting for your decision. But distinctly, you can see the plea, the desperation for you to just give into what she knows the both of you are feeling. Your anxiety and constant overthinking never ruined the two of you. It may have set you back, but you and Paige found your way back to each other. Maybe you’re not a meteor, dangerously crashing into her and disintegrating on impact. Maybe the two of you are something simpler – the moon and the tide. She was never going to let you get hurt if only you’d give her the opportunity to show you that.

So, you take that leap – whether it’s off the diving board into the pool or the cliffside into beach waves, you don’t care. You know now that Paige is waiting for you at the surface. “I want this, too,” you affirm, watching the smile bloom on her face like springtime flowers, and you seal the deal by pressing your lips to hers. She responds eagerly, her arms tight around you. You loathe that it took the two of you this long, that it was your fault for not trusting Paige with your heart when she’s given you no real reason to doubt her; despite this, her lips taste like forgiveness and yours like atonement. In spite of everything, you made it here in the end, and it was worth it.

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #paige x reader #uconn #uconn wbb #wbb x reader #ncaa wbb

613 notes · View notes

saetoru · 2 years ago

Note

tee you know what would he so funny and i keep thinking about? is if you were seen with one of the blue lock men’s friends or teammates, and then there’s a picture on the news like “y/n cheating on ___?” 💀 idk i just giggle into my hand at the idea

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。BLUE LOCK + RUMORS THAT YOU’RE DATING SOMEBODY ELSE

✩ — characters ⋮ itoshi sae, mikage reo, shidou ryusei ✩ — contents ⋮ fluff, gn! reader, established relationships, rather pouty and salty boys <3 ✩ — notes ⋮ nauurr this is actually so cute so i decided to turn them into kind of short drabbles w a few boys <3

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。ITOSHI SAE.

sae stares at his screen and blinks. you fight back a grin as he rereads the title, trying not to let out a small giggle.

“itoshi sae bested by little brother in love,” he reads blankly, and you almost think he doesn’t care if not for the way his hand clutches his phone a little tighter.

“sae, it’s not our fault, okay?” you chuckle, shuffling closer on the bed, wrapping yourself around him, “the paparazzi just caught us off guard. you know how they twist things for the headlines.” he does know—but still, he eyes you from the side before scrolling along the article and staring at more pictures of you and rin walking out of the convenience store.

“you went with rin? really?” he grumbles, eyeing a picture of you both laughing as you walk out the store. why is it so easy for rin to laugh at your jokes? more importantly, why is it so easy for you to laugh at his?

“well technically you were supposed to go with me, but you were being grumpy,” you huff, looking at him with raised brows.

it’s rare for both the brothers to be at their old childhood home at the same time, they never really get vacations that overlap enough to visit their parents together—and it’s never really been a priority for either of them with such an…estranged relationship. but this year’s a rare stroke of luck, and sae’s mother insists he brings you along with him for the ‘full family effect.’

except he rarely leaves the room if not to go for his jog or the gym—and you’re tired of being cooped up indoors all day. so when he opts for staying in to rewatch a match when you practically beg him to go to the convenience store around the corner with you, and rin so graciously offers to walk with you to grab a few things himself—how could you decline?

“i wasn’t being grumpy,” he says bitterly, “i was busy. it’s different.”

“well, me and rin had a blast,” you tease, pointing at the pictures on his phone, “as you can see.”

“shut up,” he scowls, locking his phone and crossing his arms. it’s cute to see him like this—slightly jealous and petulant as he tries to shrug it off like he doesn’t care. you giggle, leaning to peck his cheek.

“so? how does it feel to have your brother steal the love of your life?”

“i don’t know,” he rolls his eyes, “seems to me like you came crawling right back to me in the end.”

“not taking it well, huh,” you say amused—and finally, he wraps a loose arm around your figure as you sprawl yourself on his chest, leaning up to kiss his jaw. “you know how you can win me back over? taking me to the store next time i ask.”

“oh trust me,” he says with a sour look on his face, making you snort as you poke his nose, “you’re not walking past that door without me next time.”

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。MIKAGE REO.

reo is distraught.

“look at these comments,” he cries, shoving his phone in your face.

“reo,” you try to fight back a giggle, reaching over to ruffle his hair affectionately as you try to soothe his crisis, “it’ll blow over, don’t worry. me and nagi were just getting snacks.”

“yeah but they’re completely trashing me,” he whines, eyes all but popping out of his sockets as he reads the comments on the twitter post, “‘you know you’re lame when even your money isn’t enough to keep someone?’ what does that even mean?”

“it means you’re losing your charm,” you tease, cackling when he throws you a soft glare from his spot on the couch. he’s scooches away from you, sitting on the opposite end as he holds up a hand.

“you stay on your half,” he huffs, “i don’t want to sit with a cheater.”

“i didn’t cheat!” you snort, “we went to get snacks for you too—”

“yeah and you forgot them,” he glares.

“i said sorry!”

“well, it doesn’t help,” he pouts as he turns back to his phone, glaring at his screen as he reads the way some of the comments are now claiming you and nagi are a cute couple. it makes his brows furrow as a vein all but pops in his forehead, making you bite your lip so as not to laugh and hurt your boyfriend’s already painfully bruised ego.

“baby, you know you’re the only guy for me,” you grin, shuffling over to his side of the couch, giggling as you cling to him while he tries to (gently) shove you off.

“i don’t know,” he grumbles, “clearly i’m not since you haven’t even defended me in these comments.”

“i’ll make sure to tell them your money still has all the appeal,” you grin, earning a sharp look from him as you throw your head back and laugh. “i’m kidding.”

“you’re not,” he mumbles, crossing his arms. he looks cute like this—makes your heart soar as you lean closer and cup his cheeks and press soft kisses along his face. and even as he tries to fight it, he can’t help but smile a little and lean into your touch.

“i’ll make sure to defend your honor in the comments,” you murmur, biting his cheek playfully. he turns, leans in for a peck to the lips as he sighs.

“you better,” he mutters, “these people are ruthless.”

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。SHIDOU RYUSEI.

shidou is a nightmare if you’ve ever met one—makes your life increasingly difficult because how dare someone write an article that hints that what’s his could be anyone else’s?

“what do you want for dinner?” you ask, sighing as he shrugs.

“oh, i don’t know,” he grins condescendingly, “why don’t you let your other boyfriend decide?”

“ryusei—”

“if i see him, he’s gonna be one with the concrete, i’ll tell you that.”

“don’t even think about getting into trouble. that’s your teammate,” you pinch your nose, trying to be the one and only voice of reason there evidently is, “we just saw each other at the store and said hi—”

“why did he need to say hi?” he growls, crossing his arms as he stares at his screen again, eyeing the title of the article that’s single handedly spoiled your afternoon with a moody boyfriend in your hands. “i should teach him a lesson—”

“you should do no such thing—”

“you know what? i don’t even care,” he says suddenly, and there’s too much of a wicked grin on his face for you to feel at ease about his sudden turn of mood.

“ryusei.” your voice comes out as a warning, but he pays it mind.

“yeah, babe?” he says sweetly, scrolling through his phone and making your stomach churn as you walk over.

“what are you—” and then there’s a buzz of your phone, cutting you off as you hesitantly glance at it in your hand, noticing the mention you have from him. “what did you do?” you narrow your eyes.

“nothing,” he shrugs, “just cleared the air.”

and if you were unsettled before, you’re certainly concerned now because shidou ryusei taking matters into his own hands can only mean a headache for you and serious damage control for his team. you groan, rubbing your temple as you prepare yourself for the worst case scenario.

“what could you possibly—are you kidding me, ryusei? are you out of your mind?” you stare at the picture he’s posted, one of him practically sucking your face off in the middle of god knows where—when did he even get this picture? and who took it? but as quickly as the questions pop into your head, you decide just as fast that you don’t even want to know.

“that’ll teach ‘em,” he grins darkly, and he has the audacity to look proud of himself, earning himself a harsh glare from you. he only snickers, grabs you by the wrist and tugs you onto his lap on the couch. “wanna recreate the picture?” he grins widely.

“no i want to delete the picture,” you grumble.

“not an option,” he says smugly, and then his lips are on yours—and even if he’s shaved ten years off your life, you think it’s at least a good thing that he’s back to his usual self.

i want to have a lil salty sae in my bed immediately.

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dollyhao · 10 months ago

Text

firefighter abby (fluffy fluffy fluffy) i have fantasies of being somebodies pretty, sexy little house wife which is why some of my works encapsulate that.

abby walked into your shared apartment completely drained from the day. you were in the kitchen plating food when you heard her heavy steps as she takes her dirty work boots off. you turn to look over your shoulder a little concerned. abby has been on a 24 hour shift and even though she's tired when she usually comes home from those, she always greets you with so much love, she's never quiet.

"hey baby," you say walking over to your table to sit your plates down. "hey." she mumbles petting the cat that rubbed against her leg. you can see her face scrunched up in an semi-permanent wince. her eyebrows are pulled together like she has this huge burden on her mind. you weren't going to ask if she was alright, it was obvious she wasn't. you pull her chair out patting the seat giving her a soft gentle smile.

her face softens slightly sitting and eating. you try to get her talking by telling her about your day at work and the new recipe you tried. she nods and 'mhm's at what your saying but you can tell shes not paying attention.

when shes done eating she grabs her plate and puts it in the sink and goes to leave the kitchen. you stumble out of your chair to catch up with her. "hey. lets shower together." you ask grabbing her hand pulling her to the bathroom. "i don't-" she begins as you pull her into the bathroom.

"let me do this for you." you tell her. she doesn't fight you as you pull off her shirts and pants after turning on the shower. now with her clothes off you can see the soot covering her neck and the dirt in her hair. you can see the dirt under her fingernails, her braid is coming loose and her eyes look swollen like she was crying.

you coo at her as you pull your own clothes off, ushering her into the shower. you start by taking her braid out and washing her hair. you massage her scalp, kissing her shoulder, whispering sweet words to her, "'m here baby," and "we don't have to talk about it, its ok." you start to feel her body relax under your fingertips. you turn her around to face you so you can help her wash her hair out. "you had a hard day? its ok im here for you." she looks down at you with so much love in her eyes, "thank you." she whispers lowly.

you smile at her placing a kiss on her lips before grabbing her bodywash. you wash her body gently and thoroughly placing kisses on her clean skin. you start to talk about what your going to do since abby has three days off. abby adds some things to the conversation and places kisses on your forehead as you discuss. the water washes the soap off her body she wraps you in a hug that expresses everything that she hasn't been able to say since she got home.

you hold each other while the water runs down your bodies chasing all your stresses away.

#wlw #lesbian #the last of us #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #i 🫶🏾 abby anderson #abby x reader #abby tlou #abby the last of us #the last of us 2

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worldofstoriesanddreams · 3 months ago

Text

Is there an age limit? Part 2

“For me?” The annoying red-clad giant of a man who was all sunshine and diabetes-inducing puppies bounced around. He played with the communicator Batman handed to him as if it were a shiny new toy.

“I can’t believe I’m in the Justice League!” The Herculean man-child squealed, grinning like an imbecile. “Somebody, kick me. Show me I’m not dreaming!”

Guy Gardner was too happy to oblige.

“My pleasure.”

His signature kick - a brutal, no-holds-barred move - would send a seasoned fighter flying across the floor. Guy delivered one of his specialties to Captain Whitebread.

Crack!

“My leg!”

Agony ripped from his foot, up his leg, as he felt his bones shatter upon impact with that brick wall of a man.

“I broke my leg!” He hopped to the nearest seat, clutching his foot, hoping to earn sympathy points with Ice.

The cold beauty looked away.

Instead, the Big Red Cheese hovered towards him.

“I’m so sorry.” The overgrown baby - who was made of concrete - had the audacity to offer him a hand.

“Can I help you?”

“Nah, Guy’s just being Guy,” Hal pulled Justice League’s newest recruit away. “You must see our recreation rooms!”

Superman, one of the Big Three, intercepted them.

“Wait, Cap,” he dangled a set of keys in front of Captain Whitebread.

“You get the room beside mine,” Superman grinned as the big blue boy scout wrapped his arm around the cheesy red boy scout.

He behaved as if Cap was his twin brother. “I’ll show you your private quarters!”

Guy’s jaw dropped as he turned as green as his ring.

While every member of the Justice League had a private room in the Watchtower, a cluster of four rooms were considered prime estate. Three of the four prestigious rooms were taken by the Big Three - Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman.

Captain Whitebread gets the fourth?

It is as good as telling the hero community that the dolt is one of the Big Four.

Guy knew he deserved that honour far more than that joke of a hero.

“Holy Moley!” Captain Marvel’s gawked at his private quarters. “Is this for me?”

“All yours,” Superman grinned, spreading out his arms.

His fellow Kryptonian’s childlike wonder was a welcome change from the jaded cynicism, or even worse, the self-important grandeur of some heroes.

“Can this room handle lightning strikes?” Captain Marvel ran his hand over a wall.

“Well,” Superman rock on the back of his heels.

“We are in space, so there is no lightning out here. But it can withstand intense heat, radiation, corrosive environments and physical stress, so I’d imagine it can handle a regular thunderstorm.”

Marvel frowned, in thought. “Can it handle over a billion volts at more than 30,000 degrees Celsius?”

“I’m not sure if anything can handle that,” Superman replied.

“May not be an issue if….” Captain Marvel’s face lit up with a dazzling grin.

“Never mind. I know what to do.” He chuckled.

“Wisdom of Solomon,” he tapped his head.

Cap’s eyes bugged out at the fully stocked mini-fridge and pantry. He picked up a can of beer. “I’m sure you must be a certain age to drink these,” he frowned.

Superman wasn’t a fan of alcohol either. It had no effect on his Kryptonian physiology. He didn’t fancy the taste.

“I don’t like beer or alcohol either. It might be a Kryptonian thing,” he beamed, more certain than ever that he was no longer the last of his kind. “I had mine swapped for milk,” he grinned. “I can arrange that for you too.”

“That would be cool!” Cap looked delighted. “Can I have chocolate milk?”

Cap behaved like a kid let loose in a toy shop as Superman showed him the room’s features.

“The bed and walls are reinforced, but cannot withstand our strength, if you toss and turn in your sleep,” Superman warned. “Do you sleepwalk?”

“No,” Cap pursed his lips. “I’ll power down before bed so it shouldn’t be an issue.”

Power down? Does Marvel have portable red sun lamps?

That’s a brilliant idea he could adopt.”

For the rest of the morning, Superman had the pleasure of showing his new brother the rest of the Watchtower.

“Superman, this place is awesome!” Cap remarked

“Call me Kal,” Superman replied.

“Okay Kal. You were saying you have Polar Bears in your Fortress of Solitude. Can I play with them?” Marvel pleaded with large, puppy eyes.

“Sure, Will-em,” Kal replied.

Cap cringed. “I rather you call me Billy. William sounds so… old.”

“Bill, then?” Kal asked.

“Bill is good,” Billy replied.

Marvel prefers his civilian Earth name.

He probably was raised on Earth too.

So civilian Earth name it is.

“Then call me Clark.”

Bill preferred flying to using the zeta tubes. He had a point. One can never tire of the magnificent view, flying on your power from the space station to earth.

“You keep your key where everyone can see?” Bill’s eyes widened at the large golden key outside Superman’s ice fortress.

“It’s made of dwarf star material and weighs millions of tons,” Clark smirked. “It’s not like anyone can pick it up and let themselves in.” He fitted the massive key into the keyhole.

“I bet I can,” Bill smirked.

“Kryptonians can,” Clark replied. “But we’re almost extinct.” He handed the key to Marvel, who returned it to its place where it doubled up as an aircraft navigation marker.

“Holy Moley!” Bill’s jaw dropped lower as they walked into the fortress. “Are those your parents?” He pointed up at the statues Kal had created in memory of his birth parents.

“Yes. Jor-el and Lara Lor-Van,” Clark replied. “I was a baby when they sent me away. I don’t remember anything about them.”

“Oh,” Bill squeezed Clark’s shoulder. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay.” Clark assured him. “Ma and Pa Kent took me in when I landed on earth as a baby. They raised me as their own son.”

“That’s cool. I don’t have parents. I lost mine when I was five,” Bill’s eyes glistened with tears.

“I can still remember them, though the memories are getting fuzzy.”He dropped his smile.

“You can always visit me and my family at the farm,” Superman patted his back.

“Farm?” Cap’s eyes widened. “You grew up in a farm?”

“Raised there. My folks live there,” he chuckled as he led Bill through the fortress' many chambers. “Talking about families, there’s a polar bear family I want you to meet.”

He opened a door that led into a natural cave just outside the Fortress of Solitude.

“My neighbours,” Clark gestured at a family of polar bears.

The father and mother bears nodded at the men and chuffed their greeting.

Bill chuffed back.

Then he whimpered like a playful bear cub.

Curious cubs approached Cap with their heads up and ears forward.

The biggest baby bear swatted the air in a playful mock attack.

Captain Marvel pawed back as younger cubs rolled around.

Their mother walked slowly towards Cap, and sniffed at him.

The babies followed suit.

Between the cuffs, whines and whimpers, the bears seemed to be having some sort of conversation with the man.

“Do you understand what they are saying?” Clark walked up to them, getting a growl in response.

“Oh sorry,” Bill replied. “I keep forgetting we aren’t speaking English.”

“Huh?” Clark frowned. Confused.

“Sasha here was telling me about your noisy machines driving their fish away,” Bill added. “She asks you to be a good neighbour and keep the noise down.”

Apparently, the mother bear was Sasha, the father bear was Phil.

“I’m hardly here,” Clark replied.

Bill chuffed at the mother bear, getting a series of growls in return.

“She says, you may not be here, but your machines still make too much noise. These two days, the sounds are more frequent and worse,” Bill explained.

Sasha chuffed some more.

“Then there are the newcomers in shiny suits that came through this week,” translated Bill.

“That’s not possible,” Clark had a nagging feeling something was wrong.

Phil roared.

Sasha herded the cubs away.

“They are coming again. The bears smell them,” Clark translated for Bill.

“Sasha is asking you to tell your guests to be more considerate.”

“What guests?”

A sudden pain stabbed through Clark’s entire body.

Kryptonite.

He searched for the source, but his super-vision failed him. A wave of dizziness hit him. Hard.

“Are you okay, Clark,” Bill caught him before he hit the ground.

“Kryptonite,” his vision turned blurry as an armoured figure bearing a large chunk of Kryptonite stalked past the bears, towards him.

“I got this.”

Bill’s voice was the last thing Clark heard before he blacked out.

“Batman! Superman’s poisoned!” Captain Marvel strode into the Watchtower carrying a limp, green-faced Superman.

“What happened?” Batman led Marvel to The Infirmary.

“Kryptonite bomb exploded in our faces,” Marvel grimaced. “Shards of Green K pierced his skin. I removed as much as I could but I don’t have X-ray vision, but I think he breathed particles of Kryptonite, so can you check his lungs?”

“Hmmph,” Batman scrutinised Marvel. “Why aren’t you affected?”

“Kryptonite doesn’t bother me,” Marvel replied. “We were attacked in the Arctic. Who do I hand the culprits over to?”

“Bring them here for interrogation,” Batman replied. If these guys infiltrated Superman’s fortress, he wanted to find out more. “Local authorities don’t have the facilities or security to store technology that is advanced enough to take down Superman. Bring everything here for safekeeping.”

“Yes, sir!” Marvel did a chipper salute and disappeared in a red blur.

So, Captain Marvel is immune to Kryptonite. He doesn’t have X-ray vision either. The man is clearly not a Kryptonian.

As he applied the ultrasonic vibratory device to Superman’s chest to loosen the kryptonite particles in his lungs, Batman pondered on the new information that Marvel had revealed about himself.

Marvel may not be a Kryptonian, but he could be a Daxamite.

These are descendants of Kryptonians who left Krypton to explore space. They have the same powers as Kryptonians but do not have x-ray vision.

Although they are not affected by Kryptonite, Daxamites have a fatal sensitivity to lead.

Batman set up the portable lung lavage system to wash out Superman’s lungs.

Then he headed to his private quarters where he kept his contingencies against every member of the Justice League.

He removed the Kryptonite from Marvel’s box and replaced it with lead bullets.

#billy batson #dc captain marvel #billy batson is captain marvel #shazam #captain marvel #captain marvel dc #superman #clark kent #kal el #batman #green lantern #guy gardner

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obxsummer · 4 months ago

Text

overdrive // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: a guaranteed 5k payment turns into a diving mission that gives john b more stress than he needs, jj learns why he needs to take a safety stop, and despite being in the hospital, you're just happy to have some peace and quiet in your boyfriend's arms.

warnings: spoilers for s4 ep2, the usual obx kinda shit

navigation -- series masterlist

“Do you guys know anybody that’s been here, because I don’t?”

“Nope.”

“Sarah, you must know somebody that’s been here, right? I mean like all Kooks, they… they know each other.”

“Are you kidding me?”

You tuned out the rumored conversations of the group as John B drove the boat toward Goat Island, the location of which Genrette asked you all to meet to discuss the possible Blackbeard treasure. While the idea of getting back into this treasure hunt wasn’t one you enjoyed, it felt more normal than you anticipated.

The island looked like any other, but the amount of trees and greenery was in abundance compared to Kildare. You could see an older man waiting on the dock as you all got closer. The lack of upkeep made you shiver, knowing this likely wasn’t going to be very welcoming.

“This place is 200 years old and they still don’t have a road that doesn’t go underwater twice a day.”

You shifted in your seat as Pope and JJ grabbed the ropes to tie off, and your boyfriend greeted the man politely as they stood. Silence followed and the man continued to stare at all of you. “Welcome to Blackstone.”

You all shared awkward glances as he walked away without another word. JJ offered you his hand to climb out of the HMS Pogue, his palm shifting to rest on your back as the group moved forward to follow.

“So uh, what have you been digging?” Your boyfriend attempted to dissolve the awkward tension but wasn’t fairing well.

“Ditches.” The reply was hoarse and simple.

“Ditches,” JJ repeated, “At least it’s not graves.”

“All the same to me.”

You didn’t like the atmosphere that this visit was suddenly bringing and brought JJ’s hand to hold in your own. Something seemed creepy and off as if you were walking straight into a trap.

“Uh, so how long have you been working for Mr. Genrette?” John B continued.

The man you were following came to a pause in his walk, sparing a glance at the group of you over his shoulder. “As long as I can remember.”

Your path eventually went up a flight of stairs to a large white house before the man pointed you in that direction. JJ thanked him and continued to approach, dropping your hand in favor of using the door knocker to announce your arrival.

“Oh, just a little quick FYI, they drug you before they chop you up.”

You smacked JJ’s shoulder in annoyance, hating the way it settled in your spine with goosebumps. “You’re an ass.”

He held his hands up in defense. “I’m just saying, don’t eat or drink anything.”

“Not funny.”

“Yeah, guys. I think I’ve changed my mind about this one. I-I really don’t wanna be here,” Sarah voiced the thoughts that were running through your mind as you nodded in agreement, Kie echoing the statement.

You didn’t get a chance to make a run for it as the locks on the door began to click open, revealing another man in a white button-up with a sweater tied loosely around his neck. “Hi. I’m sorry to keep you waiting. It’s quite a big house and I’m… I’m afraid the servants have all gone. All except, uh, good old Demp. Just can’t seem to get rid of him. Uh, you must be the… the Pogues. The Great Seekers.”

John B tilted his head in skepticism. “Yeah, I.. I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, now, don’t you be modest. I’ve read of your adventures. It’s quite thrilling,” The man disregarded your brother’s hesitance. “Uh, come in, come in. I.. I’m the son-in-law. Chandler Groff. Wes was really, really hoping you’d show. He’s been waiting.”

JJ pulled your hand back in his as he stepped forward, letting you walk ahead of him before he shifted to hide you behind his back in case anyone jumped out. “Yeah, pleasure. JJ.”

The six of you walked into the next room, taking in the dreary scenery. Cobwebs covered every surface in the house, dripping off the lights and walls, making you question what actually went on there. It seemed like a staged haunted house, which honestly was worse than it being a real one.

“This place smells like dead bodies.”

You glared at your brother’s comment, hating that he was right. Nothing in this house eased your fears about this being a bad idea. Chandler led you into another room, this one containing a fireplace and the man you’d come to know as Wes Genrette.

“Come in, please, please. Warm yourselves by the fire,” He greeted and waved you all in the large study. There was no light besides the rays attempting to creep in the windows, casting the room in a cold atmosphere. “I apologize for dragging you all out here, but I… I don’t think I could speak about this in public. I know I mentioned Blackbeard, but I assure you all, my interest is not for treasure.”

The six of you scattered around the various seating options in the room. JJ was seated on the armrest of the chair you occupied; his hand warm on the back of your neck as he rubbed the skin softly. John B and Sarah were on your other side with Pope, Cleo, and Kiara across from you.

“My ancestor, Francis Genrette, was the British officer who caught and killed the notorious pirate.”

Pope shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he turned to face the older man. “Wait. Your… your direct ancestor?”

Wes nodded. “Mhm. Yes, unfortunately. After he’d beheaded Blackbeard, he killed the pirate’s wife, Elizabeth. And since then, for 300 years, generations of Genrettes have been haunted by Elizabeth’s ghost and have died violent deaths. Including my daughter, Larissa. Chandler’s wife.”

You glanced over where the mentioned individual was standing, noticing he seemed unphased by the story being played out. It did strike you oddly that he lived with his father-in-law, figuring that he would’ve had his own home with Larissa for their family.

“My daughter saw Elizabeth a week before she died,” Wes continued as he focused his gaze on the portrait of Larissa that was hung above the fireplace. “Now, I’ve had a visitation. So, I know I don’t have much time.”

John B cleared his throat as he pulled his attention away from the haunting painting. “Right, uh. So, we’re really sorry that happened to you, but what do you want from us?”

Wes nodded in understanding of the skepticism. “Of course. Let’s get down to business. Chandler.”

“We believe that we’ve found a way to break the curse on this family,” Chandler took up the explanation and he pointed to a piece of the painting of Elizabeth that showed a large amulet. “Right before she was murdered, Elizabeth begged Francis to retrieve from her husband’s ship a keepsake that he’d given her. Her most prized possession. An amulet. He denied the request and then murdered her. “

“But if we find that amulet, fulfilling Elizabeth’s last request, I believe it will break the curse that has haunted my family for over 300 years,” Wes said.

You weren’t fully convinced a necklace would magically make this all disappear; the whole situation reminded you too much of Limbrey and her need for the cross to cure her disease. It just didn’t seem feasible.

Kie must’ve been thinking the same as she spoke up, “Okay. Um… I’m sorry, where did you say that necklace thingy is?”

“Blackbeard’s last ship, the Adventure.”

“Perfect,” You mumbled quietly, knowing this was going to fly off the rails quickly, as did every treasure hunt you guys went after. Another underwater search? No thanks.

Chandler continued, “According to all records, the amulet was still on it when it was scuttled right off Goat Island.”

Pope nodded in understanding. “Right, yeah, but the Coast Guard excavated that site years ago,” He explained.

“The excavation team didn’t know what we know,” Mr. Genrette tried to reason. He handed Pope over a book, pointing out something in the tattered pages. “They didn’t have this. There’s a secret lockbox hidden behind the headboard in the captain’s chamber. Do you dive?”

“We dive. All… all of us do,” JJ lied before anyone had a chance to disagree. You pinched his knee softly in warning. “It’s just, we only do it if the price is right.”

Wes didn’t seem upset by the comeback. “Excellent. We are prepared to offer you a premium for your services. Fifty thousand, plus expenses. Five thousand up front. And we would very much like your immediate answer.”

John B thankfully moved before JJ had a chance to open his mouth again. “We just need to think it through. We’ll be right back.” He grabbed the shoulder of your boyfriend’s shirt, nearly dragging him out of his seat to another room with the rest of you quickly following.

“What was that!”

“We have to think.”

“This is weird,” You echoed Kie and Sarah’s statements. “I mean it sounds like Limbrey 2.0, no? I don’t like it. We can just slip out the back.”

John B paced behind the couch. “Are we really going to listen to the guy who should be in a white padded room? Visitations? Curses?”

“He’s a madman!” Cleo agreed.

“Obviously, he’s batshit, but he’s in there crying about his daughter. Like, he needs help,” Sarah tried to reason.

Kie shook her head. “He needs therapy, not a necklace thing. We cannot ignore the fact that there is a ghost and a curse. Y’all aren’t getting weird ass vibes?”

“Okay. Guys.” Cleo pulled the conversation back in. “Let’s just say we take this job. Is it even possible?”

“Yes,” JJ’s voice was monotone as he responded. You shook your head at him, knowing it probably was, but you didn’t want to find out.

“I knew what you would say,” Cleo dismissed him, knowing he was eager to get any and all money. “Everybody else?”

With a soft groan, you ran your hands across your face. “I don’t like it.”

“That ship is probably 80-100 feet down. The currents are probably ripping.”

“Guys,” JJ whispered harshly, “Are we really gonna worry about the details right now?”

A resounding “Yes!” followed his question.

JJ shook his head, looking at all of you as if the answer was obvious. “In our time of need, are we really gonna turn down free money? No! That’s not like us.”

“It’s not free!” You argued back as you made eye contact with him. “Babe-”

“The worst that can happen is we walk out of here with 5 Gs in our pocket. End of discussion.”

“That’s not the worst!

“We could go to jail, we could die, we could-”

JJ seemingly ended the discussion for everyone as he ignored the concerns and walked back to the room where Wes and Chandler were waiting. “Sir, we’ve come to our conclusion, and we’ll do it. We’ll take the job.”

A deep sigh left your mouth, your forehead dropping to Sarah’s shoulder in frustration at JJ’s willingness to throw your group into danger. Pope intercepted JJ’s attempts at taking the initial 5k payment as Wes and Chandler thanked you all graciously.

Chandler reached out to grab JJ’s shoulder. “Hey, JJ. I believe in you.”

You stared at the awkward moment, listening as JJ thanked him before moving back to you, grabbing your hand to lead the group out of the house. You risked looking over your shoulder to see the creepy smile on Chandler Groff’s face as he watched your group disappear from view.

Looking up at your boyfriend as you made it out, you could tell he was a little thrown off guard. “Jayj?”

“I’m fine, baby,” His response was quiet as he tried to convince you before plastering a convincing smile back on his face. “Let’s go, y’all! We got work to do.”

JJ’s whole mood had taken a turn with the five grand in hand, and the plan in place on the dive. What Wes had said was lining up with the information in the captain’s log, to your dismay. You were kind of hoping on the trail to end cold and avoid JJ diving into wreckage in the first place.

While the boys, Kie, and Cleo took the liberty of attempting to find more info on the location of the wreck, you and Sarah managed the store in the meantime. You were restocking and organizing the surrounding items while Sarah took the register.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” A stern voice broke you from your routine as you looked over. You quickly recognized the man as the one who kept going head-to-head with JJ on the auction for the house, and he didn’t look like he was here to be nice. “Y’all remember me?”

“How could we forget?” Your tone was sickly sweet but you let the sarcasm sink in. Walking behind the counter, you stopped next to Sarah and placed your fingers on the switchblade Cleo left under the register in a safety precaution.

The man nodded and slid a paper toward Sarah. “Hmm, like that attitude. No wonder Cameron liked to keep you around. I’ve got something for you here. I can take this place off your hands at any time. For a fair price.”

Sarah chuckled softly. “I don’t think that’s necessary. But can we offer you a keychain? Maybe a… glass bong, a pipe? You look like you need one.”

He looked away to not face the two of you as if he was assessing your work so far. “You know, y’all are gonna lose this place. You might as well sell now.”

You rolled your eyes and motioned toward the dock where he came. “Whatever you said, old man. And you can tell Cameron to kiss my ass if he comes asking.”

Sarah picked up the paper, her eyes moving quickly as she skimmed it before holding it out. You glanced at her expression and took it, instantly clocking the Public Notice, Change of Zoning.

“My dad used to do that all the time. It’s changing the zoning, it’s a way to force owners out of their property.”

You groaned and set it down. “Pope went through hell to get it changed in the first place. How can they change it back?”

“If someone’s got the money to do it, what’s it matter?”

“What are we gonna tell the others?” Your voice dropped to a whisper as you looked at her, the realization sinking in that this would cost more than you could account for, even with the fronted 5k.

She shrugged and shook her head. “I don’t know.”

You read the paper fully, wishing there was some form of hope to find hidden in the language but came up empty-handed. “We’ll tell JB first. He’ll know what to do.”

Sarah didn’t say anything but you could feel her chin rest on your shoulder before you dropped yours to lean against her. This was just another nail in the coffin that the world seemed to be building around your family.

And it was getting really hard to feel like they weren’t winning.

“My lady.”

You laughed as JJ tossed a blanket over your face, his warm body climbing in the hammock next to yours with a rough shove. Pulling the fabric away from your eyes, you were met with his crystal blue ones staring right back.

“Hi.”

It took less than two seconds for him to kiss you, the movement rough and warm. You hummed at his action, loving the way he seemed to know exactly how to hold you and bring butterflies to your stomach every time.

Fingers slipped into his hair, gently pulling the blond strands when he bit down on your lip with a soft gasp, everything heating with each second. JJ’s leg slipped between yours as you leaned up to chase his lips before the hammock moved sharply, threatening to throw the two of you to the ground.

“Okay, okay,” You giggled as he shifted his weight back down, wet kisses on your neck coming shortly after. “They will kill us if they catch us out here again.”

“We need our own place then.”

You huffed, pulling his head awake from your neck where he was starting something he couldn’t finish. “As much as I would love to do this right now, we have to talk about the dive.”

JJ groaned loudly in faux annoyance and dropped his weight on you completely like a slug. “Why can’t we just have sex and figure it out later?”

“Because Sarah already heard us last night and I’m trying to save you from John B if it happens again,” You explained with a smile before kissing his forehead. “Come on. Please.”

“Fine, fine.” He looked up at you with full attention. “What about the dive?”

You studied his face for a second, wondering how after all these years he still looked at you like you put the stars in the sky despite everything the two of you had gone through. “I wanna go with you.”

His response was instant, “No.”

“I wasn’t asking,” You shot back sternly. “You’re not going alone. I won’t let you.”

JJ brushed the hair out of your face gently and shook his head. “Sweetheart, it’s 80 feet down in the dark and moving through structures.”

You smirked at him. “Exactly, and that’s why you’ll need backup and I’m going.”

He sighed and dropped his head to your chest, mumbling something you couldn’t quite hear.

“Hmm?”

“I said your brother is going to kill me.”

A bubble of laughter escaped you at the thought of John B flipping his shit, which he would when you told him. You rubbed JJ’s back gently as the sunset dipped behind the skyline, nighttime beginning to make its appearance. “Come on babe, where you go, I go, remember? Includes bottom of the ocean.”

“Okay, now when you say it like that, it sounds really bad,” He grumbled and took your hand in his, squeezing it lightly. “Yeah, okay. I don’t like it but you’re gonna do it anyway. But if John B says no, I’m not arguing with him.”

You rolled your eyes, “You won’t have to. I’ll handle it. You just gotta look pretty and make sure I don’t get the bends.”

“I’ve bent your ass over before and-”

“JJ!”

The next morning, you made your way out to the shop where Sarah usually drank her morning coffee. The two of you didn’t sleep well with anxiety of the night ahead and you stayed up into the late hours trying to figure out how to deal with the zoning issue.

“Hey,” You whispered as you pulled JJ’s zip up closer over your chest and approached her. The morning chill was starting to set in, causing you to shiver.

Sarah glanced over her shoulder, a Kildare Surf Co. mug held tightly in her grasp to warm her fingers. “Couldn’t sleep?”

You shook your head no and leaned on the railing next to her, the two of you soaking up the sunrise and calm water. Times like this were so peaceful and grounding that you appreciated them more than the eye could tell. It was a reminder that each day was a brand new start despite how the last one ended.

“What are you two doing up?” John B found you faster than you anticipated, his Converse quiet on the wood compared to his usual rowdy steps. He still looked half asleep in his long-sleeved shirt and sweatpants, his hair unruly as he gave Sarah a soft greeting kiss.

He moved to you next with a kiss on the forehead and a hug you refused to pull away from. John B always gave the best hugs. They were warm and a safe space for you, more than he had ever been in the previous years. The protectiveness had gotten stronger with the knowledge that your dad really wasn’t coming back and at the end of the day, all you would have is each other.

“You okay?” He asked quietly, palm holding your head to his chest when you tightened your grip after a few moments.

“I’ve gotta talk to you.”

He whistled lowly. “Don’t like the sound of that first thing in the morning.”

Sarah pulled the folded paper out from her hoodie pocket to hold it toward him. John B let go of you to take it, his eyes scanning the words before he let out a soft, “Shit.”

“The guy who tried to outbid us at the auction stopped by yesterday,” Sarah explained as she crossed her arms over her chest, shifting to face the two of you with her back to the railing. “He dropped it off, and said we’ll lose everything.”

John B shook his head and folded the paper back up. “Does anyone else know?”

“Just us. Pope’s going to freak out,” She replied, stepping toward your brother to lean into his side. “I’m sorry, I don’t know-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” John B shushed her and pulled her closer. “We’re gonna figure it out. It’s not the best thing to start the morning with but…”

You kicked your shoes into the wood. “Yeah, I’m about to make it worse. I’m diving with JJ.”

“No, absolutely not.”

You rolled your eyes, repeating what you’d told JJ yesterday. “John B, I’m not asking. I’m telling you.”

“Did he put you up to this?” He tossed his hands out to the side, motioning toward the house. “Because I’ve told him-”

“JB, stop,” You interrupted whatever rude thing was about to come out of his mouth. “No, JJ didn’t put me up to it. He’s not happy about it either, but it’s my decision. I’m not letting him go down there alone.”

John B shook his head in disagreement. “Then I’ll go. Or Pope can, it doesn’t have to be you.”

“Pope knows exactly where the wreckage is and I don’t steer the boat as well as you.”

“Kie, then.”

You tilted your head to the side. “Oh, so Kie’s allowed to but I’m not?”

John B groaned and shoved his hands to his face. “You’re making this really difficult.”

“It’s not your decision. And there may not be anything down there anyway, so quit worrying about it until there’s something to worry about,” You tried your best not to sound angry toward him, knowing he had your interests in mind. “John B, please let me help.”

Sarah placed her hand on his shoulder. “She’ll be fine. If anything, it’s going to keep JJ’s mind on safety, which is a good thing, okay?”

John B kept his eyes on you. You could practically see the thoughts moving behind his eyes, thinking if there was any way to talk you out of it, but he came up empty.

Which led you here, to you and JJ slipping on wetsuits while John B and Pope navigated and Sarah, Cleo, and Kie kept an eye out from land. You hissed as JJ’s fingers skimmed your back to zip up the material, sending shivers down your spine with the coolness.

“Sorry, sorry,” He apologized before helping you lift the BCD and remaining gear on. “Honestly, it’s kind of like surfing the point, you know. We’re upstream, and then the rip is just gonna… take us out.”

Mumbled agreements came from Pope and John B, none of them convincing in the slightest. You glared at the three boys. “You guys are not helping my nerves.”

“Okay, then take the wetsuit off and-”

You smacked John B’s shoulder, knowing he still wasn’t happy about the situation. “If I got JJ to shut up, you can too. Come on.”

“Don’t forget your safety stop,” Pope reminded as JJ loaded the speargun he insisted on taking. “Fifteen feet for three minutes. Hear that, JJ? Fifteen feet, three minutes.”

“Yeah, copy that.” The reply was direct as he pulled his goggles to his forehead. JJ’s attention shifted to you as you got to your feet and he reached out to grab your shoulder. “Hey, you good?”

You tried your best to keep the worry off your face and nodded. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

The water was colder than you expected, and the water was so, so dark. The underwater lights did a little to help but it still was dim unless you were on something. You followed JJ’s lead further down, feeling the pressure begin to set in as the depth increased.

To your shock, the flashlight hit an algae-covered figure that belonged at the front of a pirate ship. You didn’t think you would find it this fast, let alone that it would be real. Your gaze met JJ’s the excitement seeping in as the two of you moved forward to where Pope said would be best to enter.

Fish and sand flew in every direction as you moved water around while swimming, the sight almost beautiful if it wasn’t deadly too. JJ quickly found the door to shift, pushing inside the area that would lead to the Captain’s Quarters where the secret compartment was above the headboard.

You reached forward to push on the stone that had grown over time until you found a soft spot that shifted. Using Cleo’s knife to dig it out, you reached inside to feel for the supposed treasure that was supposed to be there.

JJ called your name and moved his light away, bringing what looked like a fresh set of tools into view. Which could only really mean one thing: someone else was down here.

You didn’t have time to think before the back of your neck was grabbed harshly, pulling you further down in the water and disorienting your entire body. Attempting to scream was nearly impossible with the mouthpiece as you kicked and shoved against the person who had grabbed you and pushed you out of JJ’s view.

The faint sounds of him yelling for you were barely there as you tried to get your bearings back. You caught a glimpse of his flashlight and began to move in that direction when hands grabbed your waist again and yanked backward.

“Let go!” You tried to yell, lashing back with your elbow and Cleo’s knife in an attempt to defend yourself. Things only got worse when your oxygen supply was stolen, the mouthpiece ripping away with the guy’s force as something cut along your arm. You caught sight of him swimming away but were hit with the harsh reality that your source of air was gone, left only with the deep breath you managed to steal.

Panic set in quickly, sending you into survival mode as you did your best to swim to wear JJ was last seen. Noises helped guide and you could make out him using debris to break the worn structure and free himself. Your lungs burned with the lack of oxygen and you were starting to believe you wouldn’t even make it to him before passing out.

“Hey, hey.” His voice was hardly recognizable before he lunged forward, placing the emergency mouthpiece in your grasp for air to flood your lungs. “You okay? We gotta go. We gotta go.”

You caught the faint beeping signal that warned JJ’s air supply was almost out as he started guiding the two of you back to the surface. Your brain was still in survival mode and the only thing you wanted to do was get the hell out of the water as soon as you could.

The second the water broke away, you dropped the mouthpiece JJ had provided and gasped for air. He coughed aggressively behind you, the two of you reaching out for each other in relief that you had made it back.

“Oh my god, shit. Are you okay?” His hands reached out for you in search of immediate injuries.

“Yeah, yeah,” You choked on water and ripped the mask from your head to see him clearly. “Who the hell was that? And where’s John B?”

There was so much fog you couldn’t see and your flashlights had been lost in the fight to escape so JJ yelled out for your brother until you caught sight of the boat. Pope quickly tossed the ladder over as John B reached out for you.

“Hey, hey, hand me your stuff. Where’s your BCD?” He asked as he grabbed your elbows and lifted you out of the water like it was the easiest thing ever.

You hit the floor of the boat relatively hard, still heaving for air in your lungs. “It’s gone.”

“What do you mean it’s gone?”

“I mean it’s gone!” It came out more aggressive than you meant for it to. “There’s a guy that tried to kill us!”

John B immediately tried to pull the remaining gear and wetsuit off you as Pope explained the boat that was up here, confirming your story. Your brother wrapped your shoulders in his lightweight shirt and ran to start the engine, pushing the boat back in the direction of home.

“You guys okay?” Pope asked as he watched JJ collapse down next to you. The only answer he received was a thumbs up from your boyfriend, the two of you still coming down from the adrenaline rush.

The drive back was a blur and thankfully, you were back on land with your friends before you had time to even process what had just happened.

“Someone tried to kill us,” You echoed again when John B repeated his question. You kept your head against the seat, trying to clear the fog from your brain that didn’t seem to go away as you took deep breaths. It had been a good 15 minutes back and you still couldn’t seem to shake it.

“What? Why? That doesn’t make sense. Why would someone try to kill you?”

“Obviously, they were going after the same thing we were, right?”

You groaned as they continued to talk. There was a searing pain making its way through your body and no matter how much you tried to focus on their words, you couldn’t. Sarah’s face was suddenly in front of you, her hands on your cheeks. You could see her mouth moving but couldn’t hear her voice.

John B was quickly next to you, his arms grabbing your waist alongside Sarah before you were being moved without another word. Blurry sights eventually told you that the group was in the Twinkie, and there was so, so much yelling, but you couldn’t catch it enough to ask what was going on.

“Ow, shit,” You groaned and curled into a ball against Kiara’s side, willing the pain to go away if you coiled small enough. Turning to her, you blinked a few times to steady your sight before speaking, “Hey, guess what?”

“Just hold on, we’re almost there,” She pleaded, eyes watching you with concern.

You shifted as much as you could, whimpering with the movement as you managed to get your hand in the swim shorts you’d been wearing to pull out the heavy-weight item in your palm.

“You found it?” Sarah’s voice sounded so loud in your head as she grabbed the balled towel from your grip. “Holy shit.”

“Why didn’t you tell us sooner?” John B asked as he looked over as best as he could while driving.

You coughed painfully and flipped him off, “Too busy dying, Booker.”

Cleo praised your efforts, calling you a rockstar and every other achievement in the book but you couldn’t hear over the noises that were setting in your skull. Every movement felt like an attack on your skin as your friends lifted you and JJ from the car into what you assumed was the hospital.

John B’s arm was tight around your waist as he and Cleo carried your weighted form. Your brother informed the hospital staff everything you couldn’t hear and the next thing you knew, you were surrounded by red lights and metal with JJ’s body next to you.

A pained whimper left your throat as you collapsed against the mattress that was beneath you, curling into your side again to try and disappear from it all. JJ’s own sounds of distress were hurtful to hear so you forced yourself to turn over to see him. Every muscle in your body felt like it was on fire, but you managed to grab his hand in yours, squeezing it tightly.

“I got you,” You whispered quietly as the room darkened and quieted. It took a few minutes but everything seemed to slow down. Your muscles were still tense and cramping, but you could hear and see better than 15 minutes ago, which was a plus.

JJ’s breathing evened out, and even though you were sure he was sleeping, you refused to take your hand out of his. You caught movement in your peripheral and shifted to see your brother standing in the doorway, watching you carefully.

A coil smile tugged your lips as you flipped him off with your free hand, which was easily returned by him. His mouth moved slow enough for you to read out “I love you, dumbass” before he disappeared from your vision and you fell into the best sleep of your life.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed that you lay there with JJ, the two of you breathing softly. You swore your heart was beating too loud that he could hear it, but you were just relieved to have your body back to yourself.

A nurse had come by not too long ago to explain the effects of the nitrogen in your blood and how the treatment process would go from there. You tried your best to listen, but your head was so heavy and exhausted that it was difficult.

“Babe.”

You hummed in response to JJ’s whisper, your eyes still closed as you rested against his chest. His heartbeat was steady in your ear, a reminder that the two of you were still here together and would be okay.

“You almost died.” You shifted slightly to look at him, twisting your leg between his to get impossibly closer, and pushed up on your hands to see him fully. His eyes were wet, and he looked so, so stressed. “I should’ve never let you go down there.”

A small smile graced your lips as you leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Then who would’ve saved your life?”

“Technically, I saved your life so-“

“Okay,” You laughed quietly and settled back against him, pressing another kiss to his jawline. “We both saved each other, yeah?”

His hands were warm as they curled around your bare shoulder to hold you, the two of you a mess of tangled limbs and love inside the small space you were given. “Would’ve never forgiven myself if you didn’t make it out of there.”

“I told you, where you go, I go,” You mumbled into his chest. “That includes tiny ass hyperbaric chambers, too.”

A small laugh left his lips before he kissed you, humming at the sensation it always gave him when you were soft like this. He loved nothing more than sharing moments so sweet and comforting with you. Like you were a calm in the storm that was always ready to strike.

“You know, we’re in here for twelve hours,” You hinted as you looked up into his gaze. “You got anything to do?”

He followed your insinuation and smiled like he had just won the lottery. “Oh, sweetheart. Have I told you I love you lately?”

Hours passed in heated kisses, soft touches, and shared giggles as you and JJ loved each other back to life. It was easy to tell when he wanted more, but you refused to share that part of him in a shitty hospital of all places, despite how much he pleaded with you.

Nurses spewed hospital talk left and right as you tried to enjoy your last few minutes of peace in JJ’s arms. Your time together was almost up, twelve hours turning into 30 minutes before you knew it and part of you was sad to leave it all. As much as you hated confined spaces and hospitals both, you loved having no distractions between you and JJ. It wasn’t often the two of you had the privacy to be vulnerable with each other, especially in a house with siblings and friends, so this was your slice of heaven for the time you had it.

“Hey,” JJ mumbled, pulling you out of your almost-nap. “Babe, wake up. Hey, look at me.”

You shifted lazily, not expecting to be woken up so suddenly but the panic in his voice snapped you out of it. “What? What’s wrong?”

He was frantic as he leaned above you. “There was a guy in the hall just now. I think it was the guy, the dude from the wreck. He-he had a wound right where I got him underwater with the spear gun-“

“Did he see you?” You attempted to get him to focus, to which he nodded. “Great, so he knows we’re here.”

“We gotta get out.”

You sighed and flopped back against the pillows, “Jayj, we have like 10 minutes. Just don’t make a scene and-“

“Ma’am! Miss!” His hand smacked against the window facing the hallway as he attempted to get someone’s attention.”

“JJ!” You grabbed his arm to stop the loud noise as he tried to tell the nurse who the man was and why you needed out. You managed to shove JJ away from the window that he was prepping to kick out. “Hey! Chill!”

The nurse seemed to notice the two of you were in distress and walked closer to hear better. “Just give me like 90 seconds and we’ll get you out, okay?”

“Hey!” He protested and stumbled back to look at you with a panic in his eyes.

You grabbed his face to focus his attention. “Babe, 90 seconds, okay. If we kick the window out, it’s gonna cause a scene and Shoupe will be on our ass, okay? 90 seconds.”

JJ groaned loudly and leaned against the metal wall behind him. The need to fight had him tense, every muscle in his body telling him to run and take you with him no matter what. You knew it had a lot to do with his dad. The first sign of danger made him anxious and jumpy and the quicker he could get everyone to safety, the better.

What didn’t help was him yelling the second the nurse let you both out, shouting about the man in the room next door who tried to kill the two of you.

“JJ!” You reached after him as he moved toward the hallway, barely giving you time to crawl out.

“I’m going to buy you some time, meet me outside!”

You didn’t have a second to argue as he started yelling at the nurses about being left in the chamber too long. Security moved in quickly after in an attempt to calm him down and you watched, horrified, as they started to take him outside.

“I’m gonna file a formal complaint!” He yelled, managing to make eye contact with you as he did. “Okay? File a formal complaint!”

You caught on to his emphasis and cursed under your breath. In his defense, he managed to make enough of a scene that a few patients spilled into the hallway, one male with a bandage on his arm included which gave you the answer you were looking for.

Moving as unsuspiciously as you could, you slid into the room across from the chamber you’d been in. The first thing you caught sight of was the amount of bloody bandages and you quickly turned away from them to focus on the area of the room that wasn’t contaminated.

“File, file, file,” Your voice was low as you searched for any sign of the paper but came up empty-handed. “Shit.”

Figuring the nurse’s station was the next best bet, you started your path there, trying to look like a visitor in a place you most certainly stood out from in your swim shorts, top, and John B’s floral shirt. Thankfully, JJ was still causing enough trouble that you were able to spot the wound picture from the pile of papers and snatch it from the desk, quickly tucking it into your chest and making your way to the exit.

“Guys!” You caught sight of Heyward’s truck, Cleo and Pope sitting inside expectantly for you and JJ, and started running in their direction.

“What’s the rush, girl? Where’s your man?” Cleo popped her head out the window to get a closer look at you.

You didn’t spare the time to answer and stepped on the back tire to push yourself into the bed of the truck. “JJ’s coming, just drive!”

Pope didn’t hesitate to put the car in gear and take off down the exit road from the hospital. Thankfully, JJ must’ve thought the same idea and was coming out the side entrance, down the hill. He spared no time and braced against the side of the truck to jump in before the vehicle even came to a stop.

“Are you okay?” Your question was left unanswered as he tumbled into the bed with no grace whatsoever. From first glance, he was unharmed, and you hoped that remained true.

“You guys know that guy that was down at the wreck and tried to kill us?” JJ rushed out as he spoke to Cleo and Pope through the open back window. “He was there!”

“At the hospital with you?” Pope questioned as he drove away from the building.

“Yes! He was getting stitched up where I got him in with the harpoon gun!”

You handed the file that you’d taken in for Cleo to read, wanting to spare yourself the images of his wound while knowing she had her head on straight unlike you from the adrenaline rush. She took it and scanned the information written.

“Cheese on bread. You two gonna get yourselves killed!”

navigation -- series masterlist

#outer banks x reader #outer banks #obx4 #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x routledge!reader #routledge!reader #john b x sister!reader #jj maybank series #outer banks series

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donutz · 6 months ago

Note

Yandere Sebastian x reader if you okay with it?

Yandere alphabet Sebastian Solace headcanons

When Sebastian gets TOO attached

— Credits to @dear-yandere for the prompt!! I probably won't do this again because I don't enjoy yanderes all that much. But don't feel bad for requesting this, I enjoyed this and had many laughs ^_^

Warnings: There's gonna be a lot, but there's no acting it out I swear; Mentions of abduction, fighting back, lashing out, escaping, punishment(NOT IN A 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 WAY), dying(You don't die), isolation, crying, screaming, exploition, hurting Reader, revere/worship, breaking, manipulation, and drugging Reader!!; Remember they're just mentions, so it doesn't happen; This turns out to be bad at the end, I think, I'm just tired

Affection(How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get)?

Sebastian would get the urge to just hug you, specifically hugging you really tight just so you can’t leave

He wouldn’t do it himself, because he doesn’t want to get too close to humans

You’d have to act out most of the affection, physical affection especially

He doesn’t mind doing acts of service, and loves quality time

Spending time with you is just so simple for him, and really builds trust between you two

That’s what he thinks

You’d have to be near dead or just really emotional in a moment for him to say he loves you

It’s not like he doesn’t! No way! Who wouldn’t?!

But maybe it’s better that others don’t love you.. Romantically of course

Family is important

It wouldn’t get too intense, just hugging you pretty tight to the point you can’t go anywhere

Or just keeping you in his shop for a long amount of time, he already took care of that radar thing, don’t worry

He really likes to stitch up any injuries or help you with them, even the smallest cuts can make him want to heal you

One time you were hanging around for a large amount of time, taking in all of the time you two spent together

You realized that you needed to go, standing up to go to the vent

He stopped you, holding your whole arm with just one of his hands, yelling for you to wait

You looked back at him shocked and confused

“... Sebastian”?

“Could you.. Just stay a little longer”?

Let’s say in this moment you had a crush on him

“Uhm. Yeah, sure, I don’t mind”.

That interaction was the start of it, of him clinging to you, wanting you to stay here

Here with him

He wondered why he felt this way

Blood(How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling)?

Not too bloody, he finds human blood disgusting… Well– it depends on the human

Not really, I mean he’ll admit that your blood smells gross, whether he loves you or not

He might even feel a little bit guilty after

Minus the monsters, if anybody else really touches you, he’ll just scowl but leave it alone

He’ll most likely act out on somebody who was making you uncomfortable

Maybe even kill them? But not in his shop, somebody else may smell it and allege that he had done it

He doesn’t want to hurt them… In front of you, he’d just scare them off

If they didn’t get scared off then he’d break their arm

Then you’re just in the back watching it all, looking at the prisoner and then Sebastian

“.... Oh my”.

The prisoner would yell out for help, then they’d pass out

Sebastian would try to explain to you that he was just— Removing a bad.. Prisoner?

“No it’s fine, I— I understand”…

Maybe he loves you even more after that?

Maybe you love him even more now?

Cruelty(How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them)?

Uhm.. I’m not sure!

I wouldn’t think Sebastian would abduct Reader, mainly because he wants to focus on getting out of the Hadal Blacksite

But hypothetically, if he were to…

I think he wouldn’t try to smile at you every time he saw you, to show you that he wouldn’t want to be messed with

“Sebastian, you didn’t need to abduct me”.

“Uh— What”...?

He isn’t very good at the abducting thing… Maybe that’s why those ropes are so loose…

While that’s true, it’s mainly because he doesn’t know how to tie a rope

It’s embarrassinggg… Don’t tease him too much about it

He would TRY to tease you, make it SEEM like you miss the outside

Yet in this universe, you don’t mind, at all

But that doesn’t mean you enjoy just being by yourself down here

He would never mock you! Seriously anyways

Minus me not really enjoying yandere things, I actually would think that Sebastian isn’t really good at yandere stuff

Other than just having those feelings for you, breaking your legs is… Crazy

Ugh, don’t even SPEAK about isolating you from the world, that’s somewhat worse

He knows what it’s like, and if you’re not working for Urbanshade, he wouldn’t want to put you through that

Not the person he loves!

Why would someone do that…?

Darling(Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will)?

No, I mean if turning off that detonation system counts then yeah

Why would he abduct you just for you to die in thirty minutes?

That’s dumb.

He wouldn’t do anything romantic to you without your consent

If he did then that would mean he’d be just like those Urbanshade ‘people’

Eventually he’d just let you go

Disappointed in himself for even thinking of doing this

Sorry if you’re into abduction☹️

Exposed(How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling)?

Since he feels this way already, he might as well spill out his feelings? Right?

He’d let you read his document for free, after knowing and loving each other of course!

Randomly he’d just reveal bits and bits of his past, of Urbanshade, that stupid company…

In those emotional moments, he would talk about what had happened

Possibly even how he feels? Like everyday I mean, not about you

Actually it’s both

“How— How I FEEL ABOUT YOU IT— IT EATS AT ME EVERYDAY”!!!

Yeah

He’d turn his back to you, which is very important for a scared creature

Like a cat, I’m not saying he’s like a cat

He might like cats, or hate them, I’m not sure, just a random headcanon

He’d LOVE to open up to you, he swears!

He trusts you too, a lot

But in order for him to do that, please, don’t joke about his past

Sebastian can be very vulnerable, one time he was resting his head in your lap

Somehow

A huge creature on your lap, his head the size of your torso, it was nice

Fight(How would they feel if their darling fought back)?

There’s no point, he can crush your head with his hand

He would regret not drugging you

He’d slap you so you can pass out, but he doesn't want to hurt you! At all!

Please don’t fight back, you’re making it harder than it needs to be

You’re hanging up by the back of your shirt, with his claw, flailing

“Oh my god!! Sebastian I’m choking”.

“Oh, sorry”.

That wasn’t serious

He just might yell at you to stop fighting

Game(Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape)?

No, he’d be very annoyed every time you’d escape, it just shows how sane you are

The more times you try to escape, the more days you stay down here

Because if you escape then you might tell Urbanshade about him, they’re the only ones who know he’s alive so they might believe you

It’s better to just play into it, so you can leave earlier and be mentally okay

He doesn’t enjoy cat and mouse, not with you

I mean if he was hunting somebody down at that dumb company, he would LOVE it, temporarily

It’d get annoying after some time

He doesn’t enjoy watching you struggle and squirm in those barely tight ropes

He’d tell you to just give up, he’s not going to let you go

After many attempts of escaping, he’ll give you a HUGE tip

“If you want to escape so badly, then START loving me”.

If you’re smart enough, you’ll get that pretending that you love him will get you out of here

If you aren’t and keep escaping, it’s not going to go good for you

He may not be good at ropes, but he may be good with certain drugs

To keep you down here of course

He wouldn’t want to manipulate you into loving him

… He might have to though

Hell(What would be their darling’s worst experience with them)?

I would guess him giving you your ‘every-other-day’ drugs so you can stay with him

Being convinced that you’ll stay down here with him forever is a bad one

Uhm… Him yelling at you?

God, he really doesn’t want to make it hard for you! Just LOVE HIM ALREADY!!!

IT ISN’T THAT HARD.

Or maybe it is

Abducting you wasn’t the best option so you can love him

He doesn’t enjoy isolating you from the world, but he can’t just have you getting with anybody else!!

No he—... He could never let you with anybody else

😈😈

Ideals(What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling)?

He’d hope you’d love him back

So he could let you go

He doesn’t want you to stay down here

He doesn’t want to drug you

It hurts

He doesn’t want for you to go through the same thing he did

Minus the experiments

Maybe not marriage, but being together romantically is a dream for him

He imagines being more happier

Happier with you

You’re so important to him :(

Imagining being at the surface, being Solace again

Oh what a dream.

He’d marry you if he was human

He is NOT HAVING KIDS!!!

It’s not just the sex part, it’s having to deal with kids

Don’t tell anybody I said this but… I think Sebastian is asexual...

Shh shhh…

Jealousy(Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope)?

He can get really jealous, only if he sees anybody else being friendly with you

Unless it’s the other monsters, he’d be surprised but also proud

Of the monster, but it also depends on the monster

If it was Eyefestation or The p.AI.nter he’d feel very proud

Getting along with a human is… Strange down here

To realize they’re all not bad

Some of them are good

Anyways, if you start to talk about your (possible)friends at the surface then his face expression would change

From a restful expression to slightly stressed and furious

He immediately wipes that expression off his face

Sebastian doesn’t want you to realize he’s jealous

Too bad you already noticed

“What? You jealous or something?” You tease

“No I’m just.. Surprised you have friends”.

“Ouch, oh wow you hurt me”!

He tries to not lash out, but maybe a distraction can work or something

“Heyyy! Y’know I think that I wouldn’t mind ONE person leaving MY shop RIGHT NOW”.

You two look at him with confusion

“AN INDIVIDUAL WHO I DON’T KNOW?” He hints

Your friend flashes him with a flash beacon

“WH—” Sebastian wipes his hands over his face

You look at your friend and get close to them while looking at Sebastian, “Alright I think you should—”

“GET OUT”!!!

After they leave, you talk with Sebastian, trying to figure out what was going on before he got beamed

Apparently he was, ‘tired of intruders’

Kisses(How do they act around or with their darling)?

He can act kind of bashful when it’s just the two of you

He seems annoyed when you tease him but he doesn’t mind all that much

He jokes or flirts at times

Whenever he’s flustered he looks away, and you can tell by the lean of his head

He doesn’t try to act nonchalant or extremely confident, he’s just himself

He gets more on edge around others, but they get softer and less rigid around you

You guys would seem like really good friends from a different point of view

Not really with the back-and-forth flirts you two do

If you say something that’ll REALLY get to him, he’ll go silent

And if he could, he would blush

Love letters(How would they go about courting or approaching their darling)?

I would think you’d confess first

He really doesn’t want to ruin the relationship between you two

But if he ends up confessing first then it would be on accident

He’d be rambling and then all of the sudden,

“And that’s because I love you and—”

Something like that

He didn’t even catch what he said so you’d have to call him out on it

“Wait what did you just say”?

“Huh”?

“Like— What was that last part”?

“Oh you mean ____”?

“No I mean before that”.

Then he’d look all confused until he realized what he said

Silence…

“Don’t worry I love you too I just wouldn’t think you’d say it so suddenly.” You laugh

Maybe if he was corny and back in college or something(If he was even in college) and HUMAN, he’d give you a love letter

I would think Sebastian would be good with poetry

Perchance

Mask(Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else)?

Yeah, but he wouldn’t make it too obvious that he likes you

Unless he was around somebody who’s emotionally intelligent, or intelligent in love

Then they’d definitely get the hint

He sounds more stern and angry around others, but with you he sounds more soft and calm

His voice is more lowered, not in a alpha🐺🐺 way but I mean more comfortable

Maybe even some voice cracks? If that’s possible

Make fun of him afterwards, it’s worth it even after he looks mad

Letting you hang around in the shop is diabolical, he just really hopes somebody doesn’t come across you two

Seeing him with his guard down and chilling with a human is his worst nightmare

Minus Urbanshade

It gets worse if they start to make fun of him for being around a human

He’s just more… Serene.

Around you

Naughty(How would they punish their darling)?

Oh uhm

We’re not getting 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 but, he would just make the days longer for you and give you MORE drugs

If you insult him he tries to not act out on it, he thinks it makes him weak

Letting insults get to you is weak

In his opinion

So the insults don’t have much consequences minus an annoyed stare

Oppression(How many rights would they take away from their darling)?

Maybe screaming?

I’m sorry I’m not too good with this yandere stuff

It’s uhh… Interesting to me😁

Patience(How patient are they with their darling)?

I mean unless you’re screaming for hours on end he can be pretty patient

But if you scream too much he’ll just have to put duct tape over your mouth

He’ll wait, and wait for you to just accept him

He really doesn’t want to keep you trapped down here

I know I’ve already said it but he REALLY doesn’t want you down here

If you’re obedient then he’ll just let you out early

If you’re obedient AND love him that is

He doesn’t want you to go telling others about what happens

Unless you make a deal

Likeeee

“If you let me go and we can spend more time together then maybe I could fall for you. Instead of drugging me and keeping me down here, I could actually love you”.

He’ll think about it then agree to it

And guess what!

You ended up loving him

Possibly…

Quit(If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on)?

He’d just give up after some time, expecting this

Expecting for people to leave him again

Humans

Let me split this up

— Dying

Holy MOLY.

He’s grieving forever

Your death would be the last thing he thinks of before crying to sleep

He HATES being reminded of your death every single day

Sometimes he thinks of not even meeting you in the first place

Then he wouldn’t feel this way, about a human

I mean seriously, if you couldn’t come back and I’m talking about realistically, he would be super duper sad!!

— Leaving

He knows it’s better for you, but he wants you with himmm

Unless you can get him out of here

Please get him out of here

He’s going to miss you, a lot

It’s been a year daddy

Sorry☹️

— Escaping

Oh my god!! How did you do that with those ‘tight’ ropes on your wrists!!

He’d be PISSED.

Searching for you, EVERYWHERE

It’s not like you’d go that far, or find those endless rooms

Right?

RIGHT???

Pretty please don’t escape, he just might catch you

Then he’s not letting you go, since it’s OBVIOUS you don’t love him AND you’re not obedient

Regret(Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go)?

ONE HUNDRED PERCENT

He would regret it everyday that you’re down here!

Sebastian doesn’t want to!! He just needs you!!!

He feels pretty bad for capturing you down here

Constantly worrying about if your head will pop from the pressure

Sometimes he thinks that he abducted the wrong person

He’d let you go if you loved him back, possibly even on the first day!

You’d be really lucky if he did that

Butttt, you’d HAVE to promise you won’t tell anybody about this

That he’s down here, other than the prisoners and monsters

A weight would be carried off his back when he would let you go

Stigma(What brought about this side of them [childhood, curiosity, etc])?

Loving you?... Or a sprinkle of no good human interaction?

He’s never gotten so close with somebody, except for family or having friends at school

Feeling this way about a human after the experiments hit him pretty hard

So I would think that the reason he feels this way could be because of the experiments

It’s affected him a lot, especially how he feels about the human species

He’s forgot some things, so he can’t really recall a good human action that’s happened to him

Him loving you and negative human interaction mixed together is the factor on why he feels this way

Tears(How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves)?

I wouldn’t say he’s a sadist, to you

If it were somebody bad dying then he’d smile

Heh… When I smile, RUN😈

I would love for Gianni to say that

Anywho, he wouldn’t enjoy seeing you suffer like that

It reminds him of the experiments he went through

Hearing your scream scares him in a way, to realize that he’s doing that type of stuff to you

To hear you screaming out of fear and pain

It makes him sad

He’s either going to let you go or just keep you forever

Depends on how he feels

Don’t scream, it makes him feel bad :C

Crying makes it worse

Are you really that scared?

Did he really do that to you?

The ‘person’ who loves you?

Is it really love if he’s torturing you?

If you were to isolate yourself then he’d think you broke

Just seeing you this way reminds him of lying on that cold table

Nearly alive and awake being poked and prodded at

Ughh, just shut up already and leave

That’s something he would say

Unique(Would they do anything different from the classic yandere)?

Letting you go and actually feeling bad for you

Not being fully insane

Feeling guilty

Actually being somewhat sane

Just feeling the way a good person would feel

Even after turning into that ‘monster’

He is definitely one in a million when it comes to yanderes

Vice(What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape)?

His feelings

And his trauma

Definitely his trauma

Not making fun of it, but more like speaking about it emotionally

“Did those experiments turn you this way”?

“The negative human interaction just— Impacting you when you realized that not all humans are bad”?

Yeah, make sure to use that against him

To make it seem like you know what he went through

Make it seem like his feelings are recognized

Manipulation 101

Wit’s end(Would they ever hurt their darling)?

NO!!

I TOLD YOU NO!!!

NOOOOO!!!!

That was a reference by the way

Aren’t I just so funny?

Xoanon(How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over)?

His respect for you is just average I would say

Before he met you it would be pretty small, then it would raise if you didn’t flash him with the flash beacon

If you show him genuine respect then he’ll do it back

Even if he loves you

He’s not going to worship you! Ughh, ew that’s… Nasty!!

He thinks it, not me!

Doing acts of service, like healing you, opening a door for you, things like that

He’d compliment you at times but it’s rare

He’d ask The p.AI.nter what are ways humans currently show affection

“HAH. LOSER.” It generates

Yearn(How long do they pine after their darling before they snap)?

If he gets hints that you love someone else

I’m getting tired it’s 11 pm

Zenith(Would they ever break their darling)?

He would think he did if you acted a certain way

But I don’t think he would on purpose

I apologize if I've annoyed you in anyway from mentioning how I feel about yandere stuff. I just find it kind of insane to even think of those type of actions, especially romanticizing it.

550 notes · View notes

bookshelf-dust · 6 months ago

Text

something’s gotta give

gif by @kwistowee

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 5,988

warnings: swearing, crude jokes, sexual innuendos, general hatred for either party, one small mention of a judgmental christian lady, depictions of an accident involving a box cutter, talk of blood and the ensuing wound, banter, both reader and eddie trying to get under each others skin, enemies to lovers trope

synopsis: eddie munson is a prick. a prick who also happens to be your coworker. you hate his guts. he hates yours. and who would think there’d be reason for anything else?

a/n: well, hello!! i’ve been working on this idea for a little bit, and it was definitely a challenge because i’ve never taken on something with this dynamic before. it was so tricky to come up with all these snarky remarks, to build up a world where it made sense. speaking of, this is without a doubt a 90s!au. i am proud of myself for trying something new and i think it turned out pretty good. shoutout to @clovermunson for listening to me vent about my struggles and helping me mold eddie into the smartass he is. also thank you to @steph-speaks for making me a cutie rb banner!! peep it at the end of the fic. happy reading!!! <333

————

“Here’s your change and…there’s your receipt.”

You bump the cash register drawer with your hip, slamming the thick metal shut. You give a big, warm smile to the woman in front of you. She has a face full of freckles and the most beautiful silver hair that makes her blue eyes look insanely vibrant.

She grins back at you, setting her palm on the countertop, her nails painted a pale, shimmery shade of pink. “Thank you, sweet pea. And thank you for helping me find some goodies!” She shakes her paper bag.

You hand her a complimentary bookmark with the store name on it. “You’re so welcome. You’ll have to stop by and let me know what you think about that one!”

“Of course! You have a good day, now.”

“You too!” You give her a small wave as she walks out the door, and move to put away the store’s copy of her receipt. Your smile drops immediately when you feel a looming presence behind you. The paper in your hand gets crushed when you shove it under the counter.

“Damn, you flick the bean this morning?” Eddie’s voice drips with malice. You know he’s wearing that sinister ass smirk before you even turn to face him.

“Why? Need some advice on how to find it, Munson?” You grab a stack of books off the counter and slide out of the way so he can clock in.

The sound of his boots on the carpeted floors tell you he’s following you. He always is.

“I think it’s a valid question, princess. You’re in such a good mood it makes a guy wonder…”

You stop in the mystery section, looking for authors with the last name beginning with ‘F,’ and begin to restock. “Well, Eddie, if I got off and that’s why I’m so bubbly today, it’s pretty clear to me that somebody gave you blue balls last night.”

He laughs, snatching a book out of your hand to put it on the top shelf when he sees you rise up on your tippy toes. It pisses you off. “Harsh, princess.”

You turn around at the sound of the doorbell, but he stops you with an arm outstretched to rest on the wall.

You grab his hand and shove it out of your way. “I guess you should’ve put that hand to good use then and given yourself a quick, and probably little, job before you came to your real one.”

When you escape his vicinity, you look around for the customer you heard come in. There’s a young boy wandering through the back section where you sell records, tapes, CD’s, whatever the fuck. It’s Eddie’s section, and therefore not your problem.

You hold eye contact with the man in question, giving him your bitchiest look possible. “You have a customer, Munson. And…” you glance at your watch, “I’m going on lunch.”

Eddie watches as you cross your arms and march off to the break room. His gaze falls to your ass. You’re wearing this long skirt, one that falls just above your ankles so your boots poke out. The fabric is loose and flowy, but manages to cling to your skin and he can see every curve when you walk. Every bounce of soft flesh—

“Hey, excuse me?” The voice of a boy, no more than fourteen, snaps Eddie out of his dick-controlled reverie.

He spins around to face the kid, putting on his customer service face. “What can I do for you, little dude?”

In the break room, you stand in front of the microwave, shifting back and forth on your feet while you wait for your leftover pasta to warm up. It’s rare now for your shifts to line up with Robin’s. She is a good coworker, and you’d built up this system, this rhythm, that Eddie has never even tried to build with you.

God, you miss her. And you fucking hate Eddie Munson.

You pull out a chair and sink down into it, too pissed to care that you’re essentially manspreading and certainly eating like a slob.

What angers you the most is that you tried to be friendly with Eddie when he was hired. You have seniority over him, and you were happy to help him figure out how things worked. But he didn’t give a fuck. To you, it seemed like he was too good for your help.

But the first time you saw him ask Robin for help, you realized that he just…didn’t like you. And you don’t know why. You have always been nice to your coworkers. You have no reason not to be. Except when you get to a point that you’re forced to match their energy.

You down the rest of your drink. You need to go out and get some fresh air, despite the fact that it’s fucking scorching outside.

Up front, Eddie gives the young boy his receipt and a little bag full of cassette tapes, buttons, and a patch that he helped him pick out. Another child saved from the masses of pop music, he thinks.

He taps his ringed fingers against the counter, lowering himself so that his elbows rest against the cool vinyl. Out of the corner of his eye, Eddie catches a sticky note stuck to the edge of the computer monitor.

The store’s goal total for today is written there, penciled messily in your handwriting. Eddie rolls his eyes. Why do you always have to be on top of everything like that? You’re so fucking uptight all the time Eddie’s surprised you don’t waddle because of the stick you permanently have up your ass.

Ever since the day he got hired a few months ago, Eddie has despised you. He remembers taking a small tour of the shop and being introduced to you where you were organizing a new shipment of magazines.

You stood, shyly fidgeting with the pin on your fitted denim vest. You were bubbly, with these sweet little doe eyes and an expression on your face like you were hoping to make a new friend. He remembers your palm feeling unsettlingly cold when he shook your hand, and now it all makes sense to him.

What with the way you can change moods with the drop of a pin, how you manage to bring a storm cloud with you every time you walk in his direction but have everyone else wrapped around your finger.

A cold-blooded bitch like you must surely feed on the souls of little children every morning.

He hates how organized you are, how prepared. How you behave all patiently when you’re with a customer who’s been a prick, even though he knows it’s all an act because you’ll give him a death glare at any given chance.

But most of all? He hates how fucking gorgeous you are. You’d think all that hatred would make you look like an old hag, but no. Instead you walk around in your skirts that show off that perfect ass and every once in a while you wear a shirt that shows the tiniest sliver of your stomach, or in some cases, your back, if you bend over. He hates when you wear those platform boots with the heels that allow you to level with him.

And the fact that you’re walking toward him right now.

Eddie watches as you strip off the cropped button-up you’d been wearing, exposing your bare arms.

There’s a tattoo running up the length of your bicep that he’s never seen before. His gaze lingers on it for long enough that you catch it and raise a brow.

“You cry when you got that, princess?” He points to the dark ink on your skin.

You slide behind him and sit on the stool in front of the computer.

“No, Eddie. I fell asleep. If you want to bond about how you wailed during each of your tattoo sessions, you’ll have to talk to Brian.”

He scoffs. “Guess you can handle a little prick then, huh?”

“I work with you everyday, don’t I?” You smile, but keep your eyes on the computer screen. There’s supposed to be a new shipment of books coming today, and your boss already asked you to set up the display when it gets here. That reminds you, and you speak before Eddie can give you a smartass remark. “Eddie, there’s a box of new vinyls in the back you’re supposed to sort and put out.”

“Yeah? I’ll get right on that, mom.”

You pinch your thumb and forefinger together so that you don’t snap. It’s such a shame that such a pretty man is such a fucking asshole.

The mouse starts to feel slick from your clammy hands as you click around, trying your best to track the package. Slam!

Eddie drops the box of records on the far end of the front desk, making you jump. He grabs a box cutter and pulls open the mess of cardboard and packing tape as aggressively as possible.

Your head snaps in his direction. “Can’t you do that anywhere else, Munson?”

“Nah, babe. My only entertainment for the day is pissin’ you off, and I just clocked in.”

You facepalm. “Jesus fucking Christ, I miss Robin.”

Eddie cups his hand around the shell of his ear. “What’s that, princess? You need Buckley, huh? Bet she puts up with your shit.”

You stand up. “More like she puts up with me talking about the shit you put me through, because you masquerade as a sweet little angel when you work with her.” You’ve moved toward the other end of the counter before you can even realize, leveling with Eddie and getting in his face.

He places both of his hands on the table, grinning like the cat that got the cream. “Maybe it’s because Robin isn’t a fucking priss, and actually has a personality.”

That hits a nerve, and Eddie catches the way your brows twitch. But your poker face doesn’t slip, not for a second. Your eyes flick to the front door.

“You have a customer, Munson. I’ll go take care of the records. Oh, and they’re a chick. Maybe you can go see if she has a personality that’s up to your standards and get your dick wet so that there’s a slight chance you become less of a raging asshole.”

Eddie looks over his shoulder at the young woman who’s just walked through the door. She has long, dark hair and more piercings than he can count. She’s his type, and he hates that you clocked that. When he turns back to you, you’re already taking the box off the counter.

“Oh, and Eddie? Fuck you.”

You get the vinyls sorted and put away in record time.

————

If it’s possible, the next day is hotter than the last. You’re sweating the second you walk out of your front door, your hairline quickly dampening and your thighs sticking together on the drive to work.

You put on the one short dress you own today, grateful for the fact that your place of occupation doesn’t have a strict dress code. It’s too hot to wear anything, but the thin, mesh-like fabric and little spaghetti straps will do just fine.

Luckily for you, Eddie’s shift doesn’t start until one, so you’ll be able to have a chill morning where you won’t feel like blowing your own brains out. Knock on wood, but you even feel a little giddy because Robin opened, which means she’ll be there to welcome you and greet you with a bit of peace.

You pull open the front door, and pick up speed, knowing the cool air is just within your reach. The sounds of heavy metal reach your ears before you see him.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

You consider yourself lucky that the floor is empty, because you did not consult your conscience for one second before expressing your pure annoyance that Eddie is here before he was meant to be.

You push up your sunglasses so they’re level with your eyebrows, and take a look at the figure standing behind the counter. There is no Robin anywhere in sight. “Where is Robin? Why the fuck are you here?” You catch Eddie’s gaze drag up and down your bare legs and that good mood flies right outside the front door.

“Why are you dressed like that?”

You let out a bitter laugh. “What’s the matter, Eddie baby? You not see a lot of shoulders in that fuck ass club of yours?”

You pull your sunglasses back down over your eyes and grin, because you’ve just seen Eddie Munson blush. That one really hit the mark, and you are immensely pleased with yourself.

Even more so when you realize he’s following you. You start switching your hips, knowing where his gaze is. You’re not as stupid as he thinks.

His wallet chain is jingling, his hair flying behind him as he jogs to meet you in the middle of the store. If a customer were to walk in right now, they’d see the both of you standing nose to nose, a murderous look in your eyes, and probably feel like they’d just walked in on a taping for a soap opera.

“What do you know about my fuck ass—” He coughs, practically chokes. “W-what do you know about Hellfire?” Eddie asks. You can almost see his blood boiling.

You put your hand on his chest. “I’m a rogue, bitch.”

The sound of your laugh reaches Eddie’s ears before he’s even registered your hand on him, your breath on his neck, and that you’ve turned around and disappeared. There’s no way you’re not a witch. Are you a witch? What does a hex feel like?

Eddie starts walking to the stacks, suddenly encouraged to see if you carry any witchcraft-related texts. The doorbell chimes and he’s forced to spin around.

The group of people that have just pushed through the doors is huge. At least six teenagers of varying heights, followed by four or five college-aged kids. And they all look like they’re on a mission. Two of them head straight for the records, one for the magazines, and he loses sight of the rest down the romance aisle.

In the back, you lock up your bag and shake out your shoulders.

Your fingers fly over the radio, quickly changing the station Eddie had chosen to one you know plays much better music. You turn the dial down a little too, having already started to feel blood leaking out of your ears.

At the counter, Eddie watches in horror as the teenagers grab armfuls of records and CDs. What’s worse is that a family of four walk in next. An older woman walks straight up to him. “Excuse me, sir?” Sir? What is he, a fucking mummy? “Where are your bibles and Christian novels?” He catches her eyeing the ink littering his pale arms.

“I can show you to them, ma’am. If you wanna come with me, we’ve got a whole section just for that!” Your bubbly voice meets Eddie’s ears. And so do the sounds of “There She Goes” by The La’s.

The woman turns on you, her smile brightening, and she’s quick to follow your purposeful step. Over your shoulder, you wink at Eddie.

He knows it’s evil. He knows he fucking hates your guts. He hates that you’ve just charmed that red flag of a woman. But he’ll be damned if he fails to admit that his zipper didn’t feel just a little tighter at that faux flirtation in your expression.

“Let me know if you need help finding anything, alright? And if we don’t have anything in stock, we can always order it for you!”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes and you’re practically stomping on your way back to the counter. You use the walk to actually take in Eddie for the first time since you came in.

He’s wearing a t-shirt that he obviously cut the sleeves off of at home, purely based on the way they’re fraying. His arms are…beefy, to say the least. His skin looks unnaturally soft, and his biceps are just so big and they look like they’re begging to be squeezed or bitten, even.

Your eyes wander lower when he’s called over to help a child cart probably ten CDs to the counter. His jeans aren’t tight, not exactly. But they fit. He’s got more ass than most people would know what to do with. You can’t help but wonder what it looks like outside of that ratty denim. Or what else he might use that bandana for.

You park yourself in front of the register, getting the system set up before the rush you can feel coming on. The cracks in the leather seat below you pinch your thighs, but you can’t be bothered to care. You deserve it for thinking of such a dickhead that way. Why are the gorgeous ones always assholes?

A quick glance over your shoulder tells you that Eddie’s not helping kids anymore, but shamelessly flirting with a girl who can’t be more than twenty-one. She looks slightly intimidated by him, until he flashes his ring-covered fingers in front of her. You recognize that look, the one that tells you she might just eat him alive.

You fear she’ll be immensely disappointed when she truly gets to meet his personality.

In the time he’s been trying to woo this young lady, a line has formed, and now you’re stuck cashing people out. The Christian lady is first.

“You find everything you needed today?”

She drops some change into the tip jar and takes a mint from the tray you just restocked. “Yes, I did, sweetheart, thank you for asking. You see that? Yes, that one—isn’t it gorgeous?”

She forces you to look at the fancy bible she’s picked out, and you do so despite the voice inside your head screaming for her to fucking pay already and get out because she’s been here long enough and the line is only getting longer.

“It sure is!” You do your best to smile kindly. You hand her the receipt and a small card that not only thanks her for her purchase, but promises a ten percent discount if she comes back within the next month.

The next customer is easy, a ten year old with a storybook that has colorable pages and a bookmark with rainbow tassels. You hand him a sticker and tell him you like his Gizmo shirt, and he beams his way out the door.

When you are confronted with a set of parents who clearly have more kids than they seem to want, you feel a warm breath on the back of your neck. “You have a happy pill on you I can have?”

Eddie takes the stack of books out of your hands and places each one in a paper bag. The customers aren’t even looking at you, what with the husband fussing about inflation and How much for a paperback? and the toddler trying to eat the rug.

“No, sweetie,” you start, sliding the bag across the counter, hoping maybe the woman will notice and take her gaze off the street just outside the window. She takes it without looking at you, without a word, and the husband walks away mulling over the receipt, not bothering to do a headcount of kids. “I can’t keep up with your stash of boner pills.”

Eddie laughs. He tosses his head back, bearing his thick neck to you. It’s a slow sound. You can’t help but feel like it’s not something you should hear. It feels like the kind of laugh someone saves for a lover in privacy. And it’s so gravelly and deep.

The line has slowed, and all that’s left for you to do is keep an eye out for the customers slowly making their way up front.

You tilt your head a little in Eddie’s direction, signaling that you’re speaking to him. “You probably do need them though, based on the way you were eye-fucking that girl earlier. God knows you’re gonna need a little…happy to keep up with her.”

Eddie bends a little at the knees, getting his head completely level with yours, his brown eyes twinkling with malice. “You think about my dick a lot, princess?”

You place your hand on the counter, less than an inch between yours and Eddie’s fingers. One move and they’d be touching. Hell, one step forward and your front would be pressed to his. “More like I worry about it,” you say.

He quirks a brow, his lips ticking up at the corners. “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Since I see you try and pick up a girl in the store at least three times a week and you know what? They never stick. So either it’s that you can’t get it up, or it’s that if you treated any woman as well as you treat that guitar of yours, maybe they’d be satisfied.”

Eddie takes a step forward. You’ve never been this close to him. “You know, Princess, they might not last, but based on your fucking attitude, it seems like you’re jealous.”

“Jealous?”

He pushes a strand of hair out of your face. Your blood pressure spikes. It feels like your veins are turning colors with how angry you are. Eddie has the nerve to laugh.

“Yeah. I think all this bitchiness comes from the fact that no one will put their dick anywhere near you. They’re probably afraid you’ll make it shrivel up and die.” You don’t say anything, and he just keeps going. “Hell, I’m nice enough that I’d fuck you if that meant you’d get off my back.”

Your entire body goes rigid. And in that moment, you know that’s exactly what he wanted from you. But you refuse to give him the satisfaction.

“Thanks for the offer, Munson. But I’d rather gouge my own fucking eyes out than let you touch me. If you wanna see me as a priss, that’s fine. But at least I’m not an insufferable prick who can’t give a damn about anyone who’s not shoved so far up my own ass and ready to fall at my feet at any given moment. Some people have to grow the fuck up.” You practically spit out the last few words, your voice laced with venom.

Eddie blinks. His cheeks are flushed, his eyes glazed over. For the first time since he met you, he doesn’t have shit to say.

————

You and Eddie are the only ones on schedule today.

You haven’t spoken in days, just moving around one another and doing your jobs in silence. You can’t lie about the pride you feel in your chest from having finally gotten to him. Even if the dead quiet is unsettling, you feel a sick sense of satisfaction.

You think Eddie might’ve even mastered the art of a fake, but amiable personality.

You’re currently hiding away in the back room, unpacking new shipments of books, vinyls, display materials, along with all the shit you actually need like paper for the register and cleaning supplies.

Not that it matters where you are because you’ve had a total of one customer today. But that’s how Wednesday’s go.

It’s sort of mindless, this activity. You slide the box cutter over the packing tape, rip open each box, take everything out, stomp the box flat, repeat. It’s not very stimulating, but you don’t hate it.

The last box though is covered in enough clear tape to catch every fly in the world, and it’s taking some serious sawing to get through. You set your hand on the worn and slightly damp cardboard, bracing yourself to get one end of it loose.

You’re just getting there when the blade finds a raindrop on the silky tape and slips free. You’re not expecting that, of course, and the blade slices the skin of your forearm quickly and thoroughly.

You yelp, dropping the box cutter. You’re never one to wail or scream, but you let out a whimper at the shock of pain. Your non-dominant hand starts to shake as you take in the wound.

You’re too panicked to realize that your frightened exclamation could be heard up front, considering there’s no music playing and you left the receiving room’s door open.

It doesn’t look deep enough to need stitches, but it’s bleeding. Quite a bit, actually.

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.”

There are thudding footsteps, and then Eddie appears in the doorway. “Fuck fuck fuck, what? Bein’ so damn loud.” He pauses, taking in the sight before him.

Your eyes are glazed over, your hands shaking, and you’re cupping your forearm so as to not let blood drip all over the floors.

“Oh fuck off, I do not need this right now!” you exclaim, knowing he’s going to berate you or say something demeaning and you are not going to cry in front of him.

Eddie says your name.

He never says your name. It makes you look up at him, and you almost feel nauseous at the sincere look on his face.

“Do you need me to drive you somewhere?”

You roll your eyes. “No, Eddie. I’m not fucking helpless! And I’m not bleeding out either!”

He steps towards you, his hands outstretched like he’s a ringmaster, like he’s trying to tame an apex predator. “But you are bleeding.”

“No fuckin’ shit, Sherlock—”

“Let me help you—”

You decide to shove past him, whimpering your way towards the bathroom. Eddie is on your heels. You try to shut the door in his face, but he plants his boot firmly on the floor and prevents you from it. His glare is unwavering.

He repeats your name once more. It sends a shiver down your spine. “Just—just fucking stop for a minute, okay? Let me help you. Let me do this one thing without any of this shit, you hear me?”

You blink. Eddie kicks the door stopper down so it stays open. His eyes flick to the toilet seat. “Sit.”

You’re too winded to say no. So you sit down, cradling your arm, while Eddie rummages around for gauze and wipes and whatever the fuck he can find because he’s not a nurse but he has had to clean himself up on more than one occasion.

You can’t process that Eddie is treating you this way. Like a human. That he’s insisting on helping you when he doesn’t get anything out of it.

When he returns, he settles on his knees in front of you, looking into your eyes to make sure it’s okay for him to touch you. You hate the way your stomach flips. But the little shift in your arm tells him it’s alright.

Eddie’s fingers are cold on yours as he turns your forearm outward so he can look at the wound. You can’t help but watch as he works on you. Takes care of you.

He sets a paper towel underneath your arm, using another to press down on your skin and make sure the bleeding has stopped. The pressure hurts, but you don’t say a word.

Eddie hooks his foot around the corner of the trash can, pulling it closer. He throws out the bloody towel and wets another, being as gentle as he can in an effort to clean all of the dried red splotches from your skin.

The cut isn’t deep, but it definitely nicked a few capillaries along the way. It is a little longer though, and Eddie has to use two big pieces of gauze to cover it. This is after he’d swiped your arm with alcohol wipes, grinning to himself because of how hard you were trying not to show him any weakness.

Eddie’s thumb lingers on your skin long after he’s taped you up. You’re both silent, sitting in your shitty workplace bathroom. You can feel that he wants to say something, but you don’t know what. It’s why you haven’t gotten up yet.

You notice his eyes on your face before you meet his gaze. “Will you look at me?” he says. Your heart jolts in your chest.

“What for?”

“So that I can tell you why I’ve been a giant dick since I met you and you’ll see I’m being real with you.”

Your head shoots up, mainly because you can’t really believe he’s just said those words. “Hold on,” you laugh, “You’re going to explain yourself now? After I spent all that time trying to be your friend and you—”

“Treated you like shit, yeah I know.” Eddie drags his hands down his face. You’re not sure why, but you feel compelled to listen to him. “I showed up and you were there in your cute fucking skirts and you were so nice to everyone and just so…good? I couldn’t stand it.”

You blink.

“I’m not like that. I’m not good with people and empathetic like you are and it takes me a long fucking time to do anything right. And I chose to take that out on you, to hate you, because you were so perfect, and that was easier than falling for you.”

Your mouth drops open. He what? Eddie waves his hands in your direction.

“Close your mouth, you’re gonna catch flies. I hated that I could’ve dropped to my knees for you the second I met you. You looked at me like I was precious, like you were happy to meet someone new, and I’m such a fuck up, such a nuisance to so many people, that there was no way I was going to let a pretty girl like you befriend me and have me ruin it all. Because the truth is, I’d kill to be as fucking good as you are.”

You start shaking your head. You feel your eyes glaze over, so you look down at your freshly bandaged arm.

“And I realize that the only reason you’re a dick to me is because I started that shit.”

You let out the barest hint of a laugh. “It’s called matching your energy. There wasn’t any point in trying to befriend you when you…hated me.”

Eddie says your name again. “I don’t hate you. I do hate myself though, and that I was so—”

“Jealous?” you interrupt, finishing for him.

He tugs on the hair at the base of his neck. God, this is the most ridiculous fucking thing.

“Yeah. Jealous that I don’t have as much good in me as you do. I’d see you working, see you happy to help anyone, see you pull more weight than anyone else here. I hated that you’re everything I’m not.”

When you finally look back up at him, you’ve gone all teary, and something inside Eddie breaks. It snaps.

“We’re not supposed to be the same. If we were, nothing would ever work. You act like you’re just—just this helpless piece of shit, Eddie. You aren’t. But I can’t make you realize that. All I can do is tell you that if you want to be more charismatic—or whatever the fuck—you gotta work at it.”

He’s looking at you with his stupid ass doe eyes, and you think you finally understand him.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re everything I am, Munson. No one else is livin’ your life for you.” You start to trail off, but not quite yet. “I wish you hadn’t been so fucking sincere so I could yell at you.”

Eddie tosses his head back, bearing his neck to you, and laughs. He raises his hands, beckoning you. “C’mon. Let me have it. You deserve it for how many times I’ve called you a priss.”

You shake out your shoulders, and if you weren’t still drained from the box cutter incident you’d jump up and hop back and forth like you’re readying to get in the ring.

“I get it, you know? But I also don’t think it’s fair, because, and I’m gonna be honest here, the day you got hired I thought you were so gorgeous. Trust me, I was fully weak in the knees. You were also dressed like, well, you, and I wanted to at least make friends with you because you seemed, to use your words, good.”

“I heard you crack a few jokes, saw you picking up on how things worked, and then with me it was like you had this alter ego. I just don’t think it was fair that I got the short end of the stick here, even if I did enjoy being a smartass to you. So I guess what I’m really saying is, why me? Why weren’t you a dick to Robin, or Brian or fuckin’ Keith? Why not take out your jealousy on someone else?”

Eddie stands up, shoves his hands in his back pockets. “You can hit me if you feel like it, because I know this is going to sound fucked.” He pauses, and then all the words spill out at once, leaving you completely breathless when he’s finished.

“Not only was I jealous of how perfect your soul is, but you being so sweet made me want you. I wanted you all to myself. I wanted that personality, those kind remarks, that look you get in your eye when you’re listening so well, I wanted it all around me, all the time. It felt like you were this fucking angel, I wanted to lose myself in you.”

“But it didn’t feel like I’d be worthy of you either. I figured you’d get sick of me, real quick, when you realized I wasn’t as good of a person as you. When you figured out all the shit I need to work through. It seemed easier to hate you than to have you see me the way everyone else does. Nobody wants a work in progress.”

You laugh. You take in your surroundings, still in the work bathroom, and you laugh. Eddie’s brows shoot up, and his heart drops out of his ass and onto the tile floors below him.

“Eddie, everyone is a work in progress. And I am an extremely patient person.”

He recovers himself fast enough to make one more smartass remark. “You’re sure you don’t wanna kick me in the balls or somethin’?”

You take a step towards him, breathing deeply. Breathing him in.

“Not right now, Eddie. What’s frustrating though, is how much I want to kiss your dumb ass. Your annoying, over-complicating, completely ridiculous, stupid hot fucking ass.”

Eddie blinks. You might as well have kicked him in the balls because he can’t even think a single coherent thought now. Not with the way you’re pushing up onto your toes and pulling him down towards you, shaking your head so he doesn’t make up something stupid about not deserving it.

And then your mouth is on his. Your lips are so warm, and everything else disappears. All Eddie can feel is you. Your perfume engulfs him, the heat of your chest pressed against him, the soft fat of your hip under his hand. When you pull on his hair he almost whimpers.

You kiss hard, harder than he’d have thought, but it’s so gentle at the same time. You’re kissing him stupid. There’s no other way to put it. The only thing that pops in his head is that his suspicions about you being a witch were totally fucking spot on.

When you finally pull away, your lips have gone all puffy, and there’s this dazed but incredibly satisfied look in your eye. He’d take you home right now and get on his knees for you if you’d let him.

Your lips tick up at the corners, and he has to shake his head so he can really hear what you’re about to say.

“Aren’t we on the clock, Eddie?”

————

note: none of the gifs or images i use are mine! i get most of my images from pinterest or here, and gifs from about the same. please let me know if i ever don’t credit someone properly!

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reiding-writing · 11 months ago

Note

Ooo please write cold!reader being a complete badass in the field and Spencer just being in love

TAKEDOWN [PART ONE]

/ˈteɪkˌdaʊn/ /part two/

Who knew watching somebody take down an unsub would cause Spencer to feel so many emotions at once?

WARNINGS: fem!reader, guns, knives, minor character injury

spencer reid x cold!reader || fluff?? || 1.6k || series masterlist!!

a/n: glad people have taken as much of a liking to cold!reader as i have 😭

main masterlist!!

“Don’t. Move.”

Having a glock levelled at the back of somebody’s head was never the best way to spend your Thursday afternoon, but alas, it is what it is.

You press the barrel into the man’s head with enough pressure for his shoulders to tense, his eyes widening as they remained fixed on Spencer and Morgan in front of him, who both had their own guns raised in his direction. “Drop the knife.”

The man raised both of his arms slowly, butterfly knife held loosely in his right hand.

“Drop it.”

You can’t see the man’s expression from where you’re standing, but if you had to wager a guess based on the flickering of Spencer’s irises you’d say he was smiling.

The way he started to let go of the knife in his hand solidified your theory.

He loosened his grip on the split handle of the knife one finger at a time, tantalisingly slowly like he was treating your threat like some kind of game.

“I said drop it.”

“Slow your roll sweetheart, I am,”

You bite the inside of your cheek at his comment, pressing the barrel of your gun harder against the back of his head. “I have a gun levelled to the back of your head, drop the knife now or I will send a bullet straight through your skull.”

“You wouldn’t do that to me,” The way he speaks down to you makes your blood boil, and you make a show of pulling the slide back, the metal making a loud clicking sound that verberated through his skull as an unused round falls onto the ground by your feet.

“Try me.”

“Alright alright,” The man laughs at your display, although you can tell by the tension in his shoulder blades that his confidence is starting to dwindle, especially when the three people pointing their guns at him turned into four as Emily joined Morgan and Spencer with her firearm raised.

The last finger he has holding the butterfly knife is his index finger, and you can see Spencer’s expression furrow with his hand tightening on the handle grip. Clearly he didn’t think that the unsub was going to surrender that easily.

You mirror the way Spencer tightens his grip as you focus your gaze on the knife in the unsub’s hand, and the way he raised his index finger excruciatingly slowly, almost rolling the knife in his hand rather than actually letting go of it.

Spencer’s apprehension was well founded it seemed, and the split-knife handle twisted around the back of the unsub’s hand before being clutched back in his palm as ducked his head and swung backwards towards you.

You pull your head backwards as he turns to stop the knife from going straight into the side of your head, grasping his wrist with your left had as you slam your right elbow down into the curve of his arm so that he’s forced to kneel or else have the bones in his arm snap under the force, the knife falling to the floor in the process.

His knees hit the floor with a loud ‘thud’, and you force his arm behind him painfully tight as his chest meets the concrete, and you again press the barrel of your gun to the back of his head, this time with the added leverage of leaning over him whilst he’s rendered defenceless on his ground with your knee planted directly on his spine.

There’s a short whistle from where your co-workers are standing once you’ve got the unsub immobilised, one that clearly came from Morgan as he walks over with his gun held loosely in his right hand and a pair of handcuffs held out towards you as they balance precariously on his left index finger. “Nice, that was hot,”

You exchange your gun for the handcuffs with a scoff at his comment. “Shut your mouth,”

You tug the unsub to his feet once he’s cuffed, passing him off to Emily so that she can escort him to the SUV with Morgan as backup just in case he tried anything.

“You uh- did a good job,” You give Spencer a small hum as acknowledgement of his comment as you pick up the butterfly knife from the floor, turning it in your hands as you stand up from your knelt position to turn your attention to Spencer.

“You’re bleeding-” His eyes widen as he catches the first full look at your face since the confrontation ended, blinking softly with his eyebrows slightly furrowed in concern.

You raise an eyebrow at his comment at first, a small stinging emanating from your cheek as you tense the muscles needed to do so, and you swipe your left hand across the apple of your right cheek, pulling it back to reveal a red stain smudged across the back of your knuckles.

You were bleeding. The unsub must’ve nicked you when he swung earlier.

“It’s fine,” You wipe your hand on the thigh of your jeans, pocketing the knife to bring it back to the station later.

“You should… Uh…” Spencer blinked a few times as he tried to formulate his words under the view of your actions, the smudge of blood left behind from your hand being joined by a fresh trickle that was slowly making it’s way down your cheek and suddenly making Spencer forget everything he knew about the English language. “You- uh- you should-”

He points lamely over his shoulder towards the ambulance on standby, hoping that his actions will save him where his words are failing.

“It’s fine Reid,” You shake your head at his suggestion, rolling your right shoulder with your left hand planted firmly at the joint.

“You really- Just in case-” Spencer continues to fumble blindly over his words as he tries to give you a reason to have your cut checked out.

“It’ll be fine,”

“Even- Even small uh.. Even small cuts and scrapes can get infected and lead to sepsis if you’re not careful-” He got a full sentence out this time. Barely. For some reason he was having a really hard time focusing under your gaze, even more so than usual.

Maybe it was the fact that he’d just watched you swerve a knife swing and take down a 6’4 unsub like he was a ragdoll. Maybe it was the fact that you were so nonchalant about the gash on your face and the blood trickling down your cheek. Maybe it was the natural narrowing of your eyes as you looked at him that made his heart feel like it was going to drop into his stomach.

But it wasn’t fear, so it couldn’t have been any of those things, if it were to do with that then surely he’d be feeling intimidated rather than, well, whatever he was feeling right now.

“Will it get you off my back?”

Spencer’s vision comes back into focus at your question, shamelessly staring in your direction. “Yeah uh- mhm,” He nods timidly, lips pressed tight into a line as his teeth tug at his lips nervously. “Please get it checked?”

You let your head fall back until you’re stood facing the ceiling, your eyes closing momentarily with an exasperated sigh. “Fine,”

Spencer follows the small trail of blood that extends past your jawline and down the side of your neck as you lean your head backwards, eyes snapping back up to your face once you tilt it back straight with your eyes locked on his face. “Lead the way then,”

“Right-” Spencer gives a sharp nod as he turns around towards the ambulance and begins walking with you on his tail, half grateful that you’re not in his line of vision anymore as his heart rate slowly returns to normal.

It was just the adrenaline surely.

He stays with you as you get your gash checked out by the EMTs, eyes following the antiseptic wipe that cleans up the drying blood stain down your neck and up the side of your face, the hiss that leaves your mouth and the sight of you wincing slightly under the sting as it reached the sight of injury causing his heart to drop and his pulse to race once more.

He was just concerned about your well being, that’s all.

#cold!reader ᝰ.ᐟ #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fluff #asks 🫶#mgg

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transmunsons · 1 year ago

Text

Eddie doing a deal with Steve at that picnic table after school. Eddie’s on his second senior year and pissed off about it. He’s trying to be cordial to Harrington, but he keeps remembering how the basketball team messes with his Hellfire kids.

So he up charges him, gets a little petty revenge; he’s sure Harrington can afford it anyway. The extra money can go toward Eddie’s T payments.

Something rustles in the woods and Harrington freezes, listening. Some kind of wet, furless animal jumps out of the trees in a blur.

Before Eddie can react, Harrington grabs his hand and pulls him up, heading to the closest sanctuary, the high school. Eddie’s freaking out. They run into the building, and Harrington pulls them into the janitors closet. He lunges to the back, reaching for a mop, but Eddie hears a wet skittering in the hallway and slams the door shut. Harrington whips around at the noise and the sudden darkness. Eddie holds his breath until the creature passes.

“What the fuck is out there?” He hisses at Harrington. The closet is cramped and the floor is littered with cleaning supplies. They're right up on top of one another in the small space. “This is crazy, this is so fucking crazy—”

“Calm down!” Harrington hisses back, closer than he expects, breath brushing against Eddie's cheek.

“Calm? Why are you calm, what's wrong with you?” Eddie's heart is pounding so hard he thinks it might burst out of his chest. He can't breathe. “We just almost got attacked by some fuckin' thing!” He flutters his hands to emphasize 'thing' though Steve probably can't see it in the dark. He smacks a shelf.

“I've seen something like it before, it's some kind of demogorgon.” Harrington says. Eddie splutters. The king of Hawkins High just made a DnD reference.

“How do you—that is not a demogorgon, Harrington! Demogorgons don't exist and even if they did, they don't look like that!”

“Hey, you asked and I answered. And my name is Steve.” He reaches around Eddie and tries the door handle. He's practically hugging him.

Steve swears and flicks on the light switch, illuminating the closet. “It's stuck.”

Eddie can see Steve's face properly now in all its glory. The overhead bulb gleams off Steve's stupidly long eyelashes. He almost wants to turn the light back off. His breathing is still restricted.

“Guess we're trapped in here until somebody comes by.” Steve says.

Eddie balks at the thought of being stuck with Steve in close quarters for so long. “No we're not, just gimme a second.”

Eddie shoves a hand up under his Dio shirt so he can pull his bindings a little away from his chest.

“What are you doing?” Steve sounds alarmed. His eyes are wide.

“Don't get excited,” Eddie winks because apparently he has a death wish, “just need to breathe. Get me a flathead screwdriver. The door opens inward.”

Steve snaps his fingers and points at him, “Right, the hinges!” He turns around to rustle through the shelves, which Eddie, uh, doesn’t mind. Goddamn.

He faces Eddie again with a flathead in his hands and a triumphant look. Eddie grabs it with a ‘thanks’ and goes to work prying pins out of the hinges. He can feel Steve watching him. Eddie gets the door loose and shoves it open, catching it so it doesn’t make noise.

Steve stalks past him wielding a mop like a weapon.

“Where are you going?” Eddie stage whispers.

Steve looks over his shoulder at Eddie, hair artfully falling out of place. “I’ve gotta find that thing, I’m not gonna let it roam the school.”

Eddie looks at Steve, looks back at the exit, looks down at the tile floor.

“Shit.”

He follows.

#trans eddie munson #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #ftm eddie munson #steve x eddie #monster hunter steve harrington #set vaguely after the stancy alleyway breakup #steddie ficlet #autistic eddie munson

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 7 months ago

Text

Yandere Elite Serial Killer (2)

Part 1

Like frightened deer you scatter

In your opinion, you get pretty far

At one point climbing up high to see where the lights of the small town were

You were making great time

“(Y/n)! Down here!”

The sun was rising and while you were hesitant you did go to meet ‘Piggie’

She seems high-spirited for such a horrible situation

But she shares the berries she’s found that weren’t poisonous

And clues you in on some helpful camping knowledge

So you’re none the wiser when you feel a sharp pain in the back of your head

Waking bleary-eyed to the tight hold of a bloody rope around you

The sun has long since set and all you can gather is that you're tied to a tree

You hesitate to call for the girl only for somebody’s nails to dig into your scalp

It's her and she looks deranged covered in dirt and blood (it doesn’t look like it's hers)

Being sure to throw rocks and kick at you for emphasis she explains how she already knows the major twist of this hunt

They own the town

No help would have been given if you had arrived there

Or even to the airport

So she says she’s going to stand her ground to entrap them the second they come for the bait

And the bait just so happens to be you

When you ask her why it’s because she hates your pity

“At least when they kick me in the dirt they have the decency to know I belong there!”

She sounds demented

But determined

So much so you’re sure if this was a movie she’d be the 'final girl'

But you’re here so that’s not happening

Hearing sticks snap and bushes shake you’re sure they’re on the way

So you shut your eyes in fear

Saying your final prayers as you feel the heat of another person stalking up to you

“How disappointing I expected you to get farther.”

It sounds like something he’d say before lobbing off your head

So you prepare for the oncoming blow

Only to hear a shotgun fire off

‘Piggie’ screams

So you look up to see Wille grinning madly in that direction before turning back to you

He holds your face gently but firmly

Turning your head as he examines you

“She really did a number on you.”

He sighs snapping his fingers

An unknown masked person cuts through the ropes

Holding you on their back and securing the back of your knees

“Take them back to my room and patch them up I’ll gladly delight in my prize once I’ve finished.”

Wille takes off in a giddy sprint as he watches another masked servant drive off in a quad bike with you on the back

Now that the only real stake in this hunt is out he can really let loose

He’s been doing this for a long while

Enticing the masses at whatever new college or preparatory school he could

Providing a plentiful harvest for his family

And it’s great for a while but unfortunately, he just hasn’t found what’s missing

His mother and father have each other and their pets respectively

His brother does as well

And then his sister…well she enjoys just hunting

But he was never like her

He took care of his appearance more, grew his hair long, and wasn’t pretending to be an apathetic prick

Though he could see how easy it was to become that way

He hates how forward people are when they want something from him or his family

He does admire the tenacity of the poor

But among the fellow rich?

Absolutely unforgivable

He can only imagine the terrified faces he stalks being that of those hated elites

And of course, in the midst of a mission to harvest is when he becomes aware of you

It’s not really any one thing you do

You just happen to exist close enough to his latest harvest grounds

It’s not your college but something of a rival school

And all it takes is one mutual and he’s whipped

Suddenly he’s decided that you're the perfect one for him

The prize that’s greater than anything he could buy

To be Continued

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere oc x you #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere rich oc #yandere elite serial killer #yandere serial killer #yandere serial kiler oc #yandere rich killer #yandere original character #yandere original characters #yandere oc elite serial killer #yandere ocs x reader

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star2fishmeg · 1 month ago

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Congratulations on getting 1k! 🎉 Can I request FLUFF #13 with Jack Hughes please?

Thank you for requesting <3 - Merry Christmas!

FLUFF #13 "You came." "You called."

📞 dialling…

Nothing could ever go her way. That’s what it felt like, at least. Every Christmas something would go wrong, and she’d be the one left to fix it. If it wasn’t a family feud, it was the cooking or the presents, or somebody got the date wrong and now nobody could fix her problem because she was at the centre of it.

She leant against the marble counter and held her head in her trembling hands, screwing her eyes closed to hold the tears in and listening to the dial tone ring through her kitchen. She needed someone, really needed someone and that was the disadvantage of living alone.

“Hey princess, what’s up?” Jack’s voice called out over the speaker and that was enough for her tears to slip down her cheeks.

“I needed company, is all.” Her voice shook and she wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her hoodie, “Just a bit lonely, right now. Everyone’s travelling and wondered if you were free? If you’re not, it’s fine, I know you and Luke are heading out soon yourselves, I just… I’m sorry, you’re busy.”

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, there’s always time for you. Gimme ten minutes to finish up and I’m all yours. I love you.” He cooed softly and he hung up. And she buried her head in her arms and sobbed until her throat hurt, the apartment so quiet she could hear her own misery echo off the walls and back around to her.

The only thing that snapped her out of her sorrow was the three knocks on her door. At first, she ignored them, but they knocked another three times, and she felt obliged to answer. It was funny how human brains worked like that, you don’t need to open the door, but you do, it’s like an embedded rule of manners people are born with. She loosely turned the handle, sore, red eyes meeting with Jack’s, his smile sinking and his stomach twisting at the tear stains on y/n’s cheeks. Her cold body grew a blooming warmth the second his strong arms wrapped around her, kicking the door shut behind him and hand placed on the back of her head, cradling her to his chest, stroking her hair as she soaked his hoodie.

“You came.” She croaked, pulling away slightly to peer up at him.

He smiled, placing a kiss to her forehead and one hand cupping her cheek, his thumb wiping a tear, “You called. What’s really going on?”

“My family wants to spend Christmas with my aunt in Colorado, but all flights just got cancelled because of the fucking weather and I am not driving across the country.” She sobbed, “Jack, I don’t wanna be alone on Christmas, I don’t know what to do. They’re all asking me to just drive but I can’t do that, I don’t have that kind of gas money either.”

She buried her face in his chest, letting his hands gently sooth over her back and waist as he swayed them from side to side, murmuring sweet nothings into her ear. His stomach dropped hearing her cry, pained him deeply that she spiralled over something out of her control.

“Why don’t you spend Christmas with me and my family? They won’t mind.” He said softly, peeling her from his body and holding her hands in his.

“Not unannounced and I don’t have presents and-”

“-they love you and have been asking about you. Trust me, it’ll be okay. You’re more than welcome and I would rather spend Christmas with you than know you’re sat here, alone. You have your bags already packed, right?”

“More or less.”

“Then how about it? There’s still time to get presents and I’ll take you anywhere you want when we get there. Think of kissin’ under the mistletoe, we can bake those cookies you love, decorate the tree, ice skating…” Jack snaked his arms around her waist, peppering her face with kisses. He had this magic way of reassuring someone effortlessly, perhaps it was because he was an older sibling, used to doing it or maybe it rooted from being so undoubtedly in love with y/n it came naturally.

It didn’t take a lot of consideration before she nodded, a smile breaking across her lips that soon mirrored his, tears drying and the light glowing back in her eyes. Christmas with the Hughes’ didn’t sound all that bad, if Jack had taught her anything, it was that she wasn’t always alone.

"I'd love that, thank you."

#≡megs1kcelly #≡jh86 #jack hughes #jack hughes x reader

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rhiannonsknife · 6 days ago

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okay, but... jackie taylor with reader! princess treatment? reader just loves sitting on her lap while wearing a cute short skirt and pretty ass, having jackie's arms around her, giving her a kiss with lip gloss when she wins a game, looking at her with big eyes and a cute pout ... just princess treatment?

i really love your work!

god….jackie taylor princess treatment, save me!! save me jackie taylor princess treatment!!

jackie taylor lives to spoil you.

she’s got an arm slung around your waist at all times, fingers resting just beneath the hem of your shirt to have a feel of your skin. she never lets you walk on the outside of the sidewalk, she opens doors for you without a second thought, and if you so much as shiver, she's already draping her varsity jacket over your shoulders, murmuring, “can't have my girl getting cold, can i?”

it’s fair to say that she is obsessed with you. and jackie doesn't even try to hide it.

it’s obvious to everyone around in the way she pulls you into her lap the second you're close enough, her arms wrapping around your waist like she owns you. she doesn't care where you are (on the bleachers after practice, at a party, even in the middle of the cafeteria if there's space) you're sitting on her, not next to her.

“you're so clingy,” you tease one afternoon, even as you settle comfortably against her, your skirt riding up just a little when you shift in her lap.

jackie’s hands squeeze your hips. “and?”

“nothing,” you say. “i like it!”

if she's not actively pulling you into her lap, she's tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear, playing with your fingers, kissing your temple just because she can. jackie even carries your bag after school, waits for you after class, and lets you steal her clothes even though she knows you only wear them so people will see.

and after a big game? there is no stopping her: even sweaty, breathless, and radiating victory, all jackie wants is you.

the second she sees you waiting for her near the sidelines, she beams, racing right over, gripping your waist, pulling you in.

jackie barely has time to catch her breath before you cup her face, press a sticky-sweet, glossy kiss to her lips, and pull back just enough to admire your work. a perfect pink layer left behind, her lips glittering with it.

"you taste like strawberries," she murmurs, pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth.

you flush, curling further into her as the other yellowjackets begin to catch up. jackie just grins, keeping you right where you belong: wrapped up in her arms, pressed against her like she never wants to let go. (which, truthfully, she doesn’t…)

— nsfw below the cut. mdni.

okay but now i‘m thinking…jackie finger fucking you in her lap…? because, if you think about it, that also counts as princess treatment, right…?

maybe you’ve convinced her to let you do her make up or something:

at first, you’re confused as to why she would agree to this at all: jackie is definitely better at doing makeup than you, and hates when somebody messes with her face like that.

it only really dawns upon you when you’re already sitting on her lap: here you are, in the shortest little skirt, looking all cute and focused, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you reach for a brush.

no wonder jackie actually wanted this.

no wonder she’s got no sense of self control now.

her hands drift to your thighs, fingertips teasing along the hem of your skirt. just barely at first, featherlight touches that make you squirm but don't fully distract you as you reach for a brush.

but she doesn't stop there. she squeezes your thighs, her fingers pressing into soft flesh as she watches you try to ignore her.

“jackie,” you warn, not yet looking down.

jackie hums, all innocent. “hmm?”

“you’re distracting me,” you murmur, dipping the brush into the powder, trying to refocus. but, god, it’s hard when she trails her fingers up until she’s squeezing your ass.

“am i?”

you turn her chin slightly to apply the blush. “yes”

jackie, completely unbothered, presses a lingering kiss to your wrist, then the inside of it, then your palm. before you can react, she’s already leaning up, catching your lips in a kiss as well.

you sigh against her mouth, your hands sliding into her hair as the brush clatters to the floor.

as easy as that, and all your resolve is gone, replaced by arousal when jackie reaches between your legs. when she catches your eyes, tilts her head, and waits for the breathless nod before pushing your panties to the side, moaning as if she could feel actual pleasure from the way her fingers slide through your wetness.

it’s not long after that, that you find yourself propped up above jackie, most of your weight resting on your knees, one hand on the headboard, as she pounds her fingers into you. you don’t even have to do anything at all, she’s doing the work for you, wetness gushing down her arm.

“just like that,” jackie praises as the hem of your skirt bounces with each thrust. her free hand lingers on your lower back, supporting you in your current position and her face is covered in your lipgloss, chin and jaw glistening with it over a thin layer of sweat.

“come on,” she encourages, leaning back on her elbows to get a better look at you, her fingers stilling inside of your throbbing cunt.

it is up to you to take pleasure from her now.

later, you will be embarrassed by how fast you switch to riding her fingers…

#jackie taylor Ღ #˙🔞 ̟ !! mdni #jackie taylor x reader #jackie taylor x female reader #jackie taylor x fem!reader #jackie taylor x you #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader #yellowjackets x you

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eomayas · 8 months ago

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(you’re not) my boyfriend • csc

pairing: non-idol!cheol x f!reader, situationship (yikes!),

genre: angst, fluff, suggestive (16+ fs)

synopsis: seungcheol is NOT your boyfriend!!! right? RIGHT?????

warnings: suggestive content, toxic!cheol, jealous!cheol, seungcheol is a smoker, arguing, miscommunication

a/n: luv toxic scoups. reader is messy boots!

joshua greets you with a hug and ushers you inside the house. “you look good,” he says, a smile on his face. you take a few steps ahead of him and do a 360, arms held out to the sides.

“i know, right,” you say, smirking at him and walking further into the house, towards commotion in the kitchen. shot glasses and liquor bottles, along with cans of beer and seltzers, litter the countertops. soonyoung and jeonghan cheers before each of them throw back a shot. “ooh, let me have one.” you say walking over to the two of them.

jeonghan wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grabs a bottle. “you look nice,” he compliments, eyeing you before pouring liquid into a glass and handing it over to you.

you smile at the compliment and throw back the shot. the compliments aren’t uncommon, nor are they unappreciated—sometimes you think they do it purposefully to piss off seungcheol, though you haven’t got enough evidence. but you do look good, just like you had intended, and you’re happy people notice.

the alcohol burns your throat and you scrunch your face up as it slides down your throat. “one more?” jeonghan asks, an amused grin on his face.

“definitely,” you say, bumping your hip into soonyoungs as a greeting. jeonghan pours you another shot, and just as you reach out to grab it, it’s plucked from his hand by somebody else. you smell him before you see him—cologne mixed with the faint smell of tobacco—and look up to glare at seungcheol as he drinks your shot, his eyes playful behind the glass. it makes you feel warm, and slightly giddy, despite the look on your face.

“you weren’t going to say hi?” he asks, setting the glass down on the counter. he crosses his arms across his chest and leans against the surface, an eyebrow raised. the faint smell of cigarettes wafts through the room, suggesting that he just came back inside from having a smoke.

“of course i was,” you say, shifting nervously as he ogles you. his gaze is heavy and piercing—watchful—and makes you feel naked. he’s the only person you feel this way with, and you wish you didn’t. seungcheol definitely knows he makes you feel this way, and likes knowing this fact. it makes him feel powerful, and slightly possessive over you though he’d never say it out loud. it almost makes you forget other people are around because it’s like it’s just the two of you. “just wanted a shot first.” you say, clasping your hands in front of you cutely.

the corner of seungcheols lip quirks and you try to fight the smile that threatens to break out across your face. seungcheol reaches for you and pulls your towards him by your hips, his hand sliding to rest on your ass once your pulled flush against him. “hi,” he says, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“hi, cheol,” you murmur, hands pressed flag against his firm chest. he peers down at you for a beat, a small smirk on his face. despite being nearly the same height as him in your heels, you still feel small under his gaze. seungcheol dips his head down towards you lips, and you meet him the rest of the way. you melt against him, hands slithering up his chest and loosely wrap around his neck.

the kiss in languid yet sensual, and his hand skating under your short skirt does nothing to keep your thoughts pure. but you push his hand away and pull back from his lips. “you do know that there are three other people in here, right?” you ask, yelping when he grabs a handful of your ass, right under your skirt. “stop it, cheol!” you squeal, slapping him on the chest and getting out of his grasp. he just smirks at you stupidly, and you wish you weren’t the teeniest bit turned on.

luckily, soonyoung chooses that moment to drunkenly call out to you to take a shot. “y/n, take a shot with me!” you happily slip out from seungcheols grip, flipping him off and sticking out your tongue when he flips you off because you’re leaving him alone.

you take the shot that is presented to you, and you and soonyoung hook your arms together and tip back your glasses. the liquid goes down smoother than the first shot, and you decide to take another, and another.

you’re tipsy by the time chan, seokmin, and mingyu arrive, and you greet them all with drunken hugs. everybody is crowded around the dining room table now, half empty cans everywhere. you rest your chin on joshua’s shoulder and hold onto his waist for support. his arm is draped around your hips, holding you upright so you don’t eat shit tripping over your feet.

a shot is slid across the table to you, and you grab it and cheers mingyu and seokmin. “you’ve had enough,” seungcheol says, appearing seemingly out of nowhere and stealing your shot for the second time tonight. you whine at him as he drinks it instead, and tell seokmin to pour you another. “y/n, you can barely stand up.” he says, cutting his eyes at joshua and tugging you off of him and into his side instead, his face stern.

“you suck,” you grumble, cuddling into his side despite how you feel. seungcheol looks at you and raises his eyes, a challenging look one your face at your comment. “yeah, and i swallow, we know.” you say, beating him to his own punchline. rolling your eyes, you grab a random can of seltzer off the table.

seungcheol snickers and lets you take a sip of the drink before taking it out of your hands. “i’ll buy you drinks at the club, okay?” he says, finger kneading your hips. you wave him off and huff against him. “you’re such a child.” he mutters, chucking to himself and shaking his head.

“and you’re an ass,” you say. seungcheol snorts and you try pulling out of his grasp. “joshie, help.” you say, tugging on his arm. he turns, an amused look on his face. he flicks his eyes over to seungcheol and gives him a playful smile as he pulls you from seungcheol grasp and into his side again. “byeeee!” you say, singsong like to seungcheol, wiggling your fingers in a mock-wave at him.

seungcheol smiles, but there’s irritation behind his eyes. his nose twitches when joshua wraps his arm around your waist, his hand coming to rest on your other hip as he pulls you in front of him. seungcheol technically has no reason to really feel upset because you’re not even his girlfriend. but you are his—whether that’s been discussed or not.

he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, snd grabs the bottle of vodka and shot glass, and pours one up. he downs it with encouragement from a few of his friends, and sighs. chan claps his hand on seungcheols shoulder. “hyung, it’ll be okay,” he says sincerely. seungcheol frowns and shrugs the younger man off of him.

“respectfully, chan, shut the fuck up,” he grumbles. you snap your attention to seungcheol, guffawing at his tone and choice of words to chan.

“be nice,” you say, hands resting atop joshua’s that are flat against your stomach. seungcheol glares at you, his eyes narrowing nearly to slits. you frown back at him and squirm in joshua’s hold as his eyes drag down your frame, his gaze lingering on where joshua has you pinned to him. seungcheol mutters something under his breath that you don’t hear. “what?”

“nothing,” he barks, chugging the rest of the seltzer and lightly crushing the can in his hand.

“freak,” you mutter to yourself, returning to your conversation with soonyoung and joshua.

“oh, the ubers are here,” jeonghan announces, shrugging on his jacket. everybody quickly drops what they’re doing to grab phones, wallets, jackets, and keys. joshua lets go of you to grab his things, and you stumble after soonyoung. you yelp when you trip, catching yourself on the wall as hands steady you by the waist.

“i told you,” seungcheol says, wrapping an arm securely around you waist as he leads you out of the front door.

“whatever.”

“the words you’re looking for are: thank you,” he says matter of factly. you roll your eyes and duck into the uber when he opens the door for you. he slides in after you, squishing you between his shoulders and soonyoungs. “god, i can’t move back here.” he mumbles, shifting so his back is pressing against the door.

seungcheol goes back to his previous brooding, and he’s silent most of the ride. you and soonyoung chat away, and when you laugh a little too hard and one of soonyoungs jokes and lean into him, seungcheol places a heavy hand on your leg. you ignore the gesture, but it’s like somebody poured hot wax down your spine.

you all arrive at the club, and immediately skip the line because their friend vernon is djing tonight. “you want a drink?” seungcheol asks, mouth on your ear and his arm wrapped tightly around you. the alcohol in your system keeps your nerves at bay and makes you relax in his hold.

you nod and turn to look at him, his lips dangerously close to your own. you flick your eyes down to his mouth, eyes lingering for a brief moment before you continue shuffling towards the crowded bar.

seungcheol orders drinks for the two of you much quicker than you would have if you were alone. you watch in awe as seungcheol gets the bartenders attention, leaning halfway over the counter to give the orders instead of yelling at him. his hand stays secured on the small of your back the entire time, tugging you closer when more people crowd the bar.

despite the cramped space and the many people shouting at the bartender over the music, your drinks come fairly quickly. seungcheol gives you yours and grabs ahold of your hand and leads you through the club to the section vernon got for his friends.

you follow seungcheol over to one of the couches. mingyu, chan, and jeonghan already sitting there. the four of them fall into conversation while you bob along to the music playing. you dont really chime in, because they’re talking about things you’re not interested in, but you’re getting bored. “cheol, i’m gonna go dance,” you say, gently shaking his shoulder.

“yeah, alright,” he says quickly, waving you off and going back to whatever mingyu was talking about. you roll your eyes and hop up, fixing your skirt before walking down to the dance floor. you really wanted to dance with him, and expected him to follow you down here but he didn’t, and you feel a bit silly being down here alone, not even with a friend. but you’re put at ease only a few minutes later, because you’re approached to dance with a handsome-enough stranger, and you accept, pulling him into the center of the dance floor.

seungcheol realizes you actually left much too late, and excuses himself to go find you. it’s much too crowded and too dark to really see you through the sea of bodies. seungcheol stands at the perimeter of the dance floor and scans the crowd, running a frustrated hand through his hair. he doesn’t know where you are, and when he does another sweep of the dance floor he spots joshua and is filled with mild relief. he starts to make his way over to his friend until he realizes the person he’s dancing with isn’t you like he thought it was. “damnit,” he mutters to himself.

taking a breath, seungcheol starts pushing through bodies, not caring about who he bumps into. his eyes flick from corner to corner in search of you. he is about to give up and start calling you until he notices a familiar figure swaying to the beat of the music. yeah, he’d recognize your ass anywhere, even in the dark.

the person behind you isn’t familiar, though, and his hands are roaming over your backside in such a way that lights a flame of jealousy in his chest. he watches the two of you like some voyeur, getting more and more pissed the longer her stands there. his hand involuntarily closes into a fist, and he comes to the conclusion that he needs a cigarette.

seungcheol is about to turn away, to let it go and smoke out his nerves until you straighten up against the man behind you, snaking an arm around his neck. his lips ghost over your neck and your jaw, and that’s when seungcheol snaps. he marches over to the two of you, his hand reaching out for the man’s shoulder and yanking him back without a care. “let’s go,” he says to you, mouth near your ear so you can clearly hear his words and his tone.

“what the fuck, man? do you have a boyfriend?” he shouts, his face screwed up in an incredulous expression.

just as you vehemently say “no!”, seungcheol shouts “yes!” and grabs onto your wrist and pulls you towards him. you frown up at him and yank yourself away from him, but the guys already walked off. “what were you doing?” seungcheol asks you, taking a step closer to you.

all you feel is anger and frustration. your hands are balled into fists, swinging at your sides. you try to speak, but you’re so pissed at him, for his behavior and his attitude. “what the fuck is your problem?”

seungcheol wipes around his mouth and takes a step back from you. “have a smoke with me,” he says, nodding his head towards the back of the club. you stare at him, jaw clenched tight. after a moment, you scoff and push past him, fighting. your way through the sea of people to get out of the dance floor. you’re fuming, practically running, despite having sore feet, to get out of the club and away from seungcheol.

rounding the corner to the designated smoking section outside of the club, you place your hands on your hips and pace back and forth. “what is wrong with you?” you bark, glaring over at seungcheol.

he slides a pack out of his jeans and pulls out a cigarette and his lighter. he takes his time putting it between his lips and cupping his hands around the end to light it, blowing out smoke upwards before answering you. “not a damn thing,” he grumbles, eyeing you.

there’s a breeze outside that would probably bother you if you weren’t keeping warm from anger and alcohol. “bullshit. you’re not my fucking boyfriend, seungcheol!” you cry, throwing your hands up.

“why were you about to kiss him? hmm?”

“i wasn’t about to kiss him!” but you’re actually not sure. his mouth wasn’t necessarily unwanted on your neck, and you were egging him on, leaning into him and tipping your head up. you don’t know what you were going to do if seungcheol hadn’t showed up and caused a scene. “but that doesn’t even matter because you are not my boyfriend.”

seungcheol holds the cigarette between his lips and squints at you, his head tilting to the side like he’s trying to figure you out, like you’re playing a joke on him and he’s waiting for cameras to pop out. “so you just go around flirting with and kissing on other dudes when i’m not around?” he questions, feeling like he needs another cigarette (he hasn’t even finished smoking this one).

scoffing, you shaking your head and begin pacing again. “you’re impossible. are you not listening to a word i’m saying?”

“i hear you; i know im not your boyfriend—got it. now answer my question,” he says, blowing out cigarette smoke. you glare at him, hands still on your hips. seungcheol can’t help it when he checks you out; you’re sexy even when you’re yelling at him—maybe even more.

rolling your eyes, you jut your left hip out, relieving the pressure on your feet. “so what if i do?” you snap. you’re only trying to piss him off, and by the looks of it, it’s working. he pulls the cigarette from his lips and shakes his head at you, scoffing with an irritated grin on his face. “why do you care? you are not my boyfriend!”

“jesus fucking christ, you’ve said that already! i fucking know that i’m not your boyfriend! can you talk about something else?” he spits. you scoff for the second time and mutter out a ‘fuck you’, crossing your arms over your chest.

you pace again, partly because you feel restless and partly because you’re starting to get cold. “goddamnit,” you groan, rubbing your hands against your arms to generate heat.

“what?” he barks, flicking his cigarette onto the ground and stomping on it with his toe.

“i’m cold, seungcheol, and my feet hurt—thank you for asking,” you’re just as snippy, tone full of sarcasm and your jaw tense. he rolls his eyes but shrugs off his jacket and holds it out to you. you narrow your eyes at him, dropping your gaze to his outstretched hand. his jacket is leather, and warm, and inviting, but you have almost too much pride to accept it.

“just take it,” he sighs, as if he read your mind, thrusting it at you. you bite the inside of your cheek and snatch it from him and pull it on. “are you done?” he asks after a beat of silence.

“are you? you are the one with a problem, not me,” you reply, looking at him pointedly. seungcheol runs a hand through his hair, lightly tugging. he runs his tongue over his teeth and sniffs once.

“you come to my house to flirt with my friends, then you come here with me, and leave me to go kiss other people. that’s my problem with you, y/n,” he damn near growls your name when he says it, and takes a few steps closer to you.

not backing down from him, you square yourself in front of him and squint. “you’re way too into my business for a man i’m not even dating,” you quip. his nose twitches and suddenly he’s all in your space, his face inches from yours.

“why would i even date you if this is how you act?” he spits. you glare at him, anger coursing through your veins like somebody just lit a match and set you aflame.

pushing up against him, your top lip curled and your hands balled into fists, you can’t stop yourself when you say, “if you act like this now, i can’t imagine what it would be like to really be yours.”

his nose bumps yours, his eyes inky black in the darkness of the night. your chest rises and falls quickly as he peers down at you. you don’t realize seungcheol has you cornered until you take a tentative step back away from him, and bump into the wall. that only urges him forward, his hips pressing against yours. “you’re already mine,” this time, he actually does growl and grabs you by the chin, pulling your mouth towards him in a messy kiss. your hands grip onto his shoulders as he presses you against the wall, his hand dropping from your jaw to your throat while the other grabs your thigh and hooks it around his waist.

gasping when his icy finger tips slip under your skirt , seungcheol shoves his tongue into your mouth and takes the hand that’s resting on your neck to cradle the back of your head. your hands tangle in his hair, tugging on the strands like you’re trying to pull him impossibly closer to you.

his fingers dig into your plush thighs, his crotch pressing into your middle as he forces your legs up higher. he’s hard in his jeans, and you groan against his mouth. seungcheols finger skat higher up your tiny skirt, toying with the band of your thong at your hip. “cheol,” you gasp out, tugging his mouth away from yours by pulling at his hair. “not here.” you say, batting his hand out from under your skirt, but you don’t push his touch away completely and let it rest on your thigh.

he has half a mind to pull out his phone and call an uber, still pressed against you. he lightly pants and licks his lips as he jams his address into the app, selecting the first car that pops up despite it being $30. “this isn’t over,” he says to you, staring directly into your eyes.

oh, how you're glad it isn't.

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