#this went on longer than i thought i'm sorry lol

[the-palelady]

I was reading your carrd earlier (looking to see if your requests were open for later 🫣) and I saw you suffer from a chronic illness. Do you mind me asking if that affects how or what you write about?

IF THAT’S TO PERSONAL I UNDERSTAND!!! But I also suffer from a chronic illness myself, so I like to hear what motivates other people 💚💚💚

omg no worries it isn't too personal at all. although i won't delve into it too much. i'm kind of glad to see an ask like this seeing as i'm just now coming out of one of my slumps.

i was diagnosed with my illness when i was 15 which i guess is fairly young for what i have, and despite my diagnosis a lot of the doctors i went to didn't treat me for it???? even though the diagnosis was clearly written in my charts, they treated me for other things like bipolar depression and bpd. they were...basically in denial of my diagnosis, said i was too young, etc? i didn't find a good doctor until i was 23 (literally last year), and i'm just now on the path to getting properly treated for it. unfortunately because i went so many years not being given the correct medications and what not, it kind of got worse.

so i do tend to step away from social media or disappear for extended periods of time. in the past, this has offended people, but at the end of the day, i have to take care of my peace, and i believe everyone should do this. at the end of all of this, we all die (that sounds awfully morbid, i know) but it is the truth. i don't want to spend my one chance at life trying to prove something to everyone and trying to please everyone around me. it just doesn't seem right or fair.

i've always been a people pleaser, but as i've become an adult i've broken that habit. this is my life and i need to do what's right for me, and if stepping away from social media or not speaking to anyone can help that than that's what i'll do. i believe everyone should do that if that's what they need to do in order to protect themselves. everyone deserves to be happy. everyone deserves to do what they love.

this includes my writing. i don't write about what everyone else wants to see. such as my bloodborne au. bloodborne is a very niche game. not very many people have played it due to it being a playstation exclusive, but it is also considered old and outdated. i wrote about it because i love ghost and i love bloodborne. did it get as many interactions as other cod writers works within the community? no, but i don't care about all that. the people that did interact with it i am incredibly grateful for, and i'm happy they enjoyed it. but at the end of the day i wrote it for myself. ghost has been a comfort character of mine since i was a kid, and bloodborne has been my comfort game since its release. combining the two was just a silly little thought i had.

since the beginning of this blog it's never been about how many followers i have, how many likes or reblogs i can get, or how many people notice my writing. it's just been about sharing my writing with people who might take interest in my dumb ideas. if you read it and interacted? thank you. i'm so thankful and appreciate you so much. if not? that's okay. thank you for being here. i appreciate you as well, and i hope you have a wonderful day. numbers don't matter to me. i'm just here because i love some fictional guy like everyone else.

i hope everyone here writes about the things that they love and not because they feel obligated to write what their followers want them to. but i also hope everyone here, not just people i've interacted with, or people i follow, but anyone who reads this, takes the time to take care of themselves, and steps away if need be. your mental health is always important.

(simon isn't going anywhere, he'll be waiting for you when you get back ♡)

[trashlie]

I've thought about that group member being Amy and what it would mean for Alyssa. Both girls were first introduced in the same flashback.

They were pressured to do other's homework, specifically English, in exchange for popularity. Neither girl seems confrontational and able to stand up for themselves. They also avoid being associated with Shinae when she tries to stop the bullies.

Imagine she recognizes Shinae and is friendly, grateful for her actions back then, all in front of Alyssa whom she ostracizes.

It would be an interesting foil, if the girls took a liking to Shinae over Alyssa. Just pouring more salt into the wound for her 😢

I never did take note that they were both pressured with English homework - that's a really interesting similarity, right?

To be fair, I don't think we're going to see a lot between Shinae and Alyssa's groupmates - especially with what we're seeing in ep 234 and what I think it means for Alyssa's future. But that said - the fact that Amy was given a name and her note said she'll never forget Shinae's help.... I can't help but wonder what role she'll have. Much like quimchee doesn't put a lot of detail into background characters, she definitely doesn't give them names if they don't have a reason, right? It's why I can't shake the similarity to how Amy looks to one of Alyssa's group mates.

But also.... it's difficult to guess what I think they'll have to do with Shinae, too, at this point. While we know the names of 2 out of 3 of Alyssa's group mates only one has been shown to us with face AND name AND details and it makes me wonder.... like they've got to reappear somewhere, right? Maybe????

I think we're going to see Alyssa follow a trajectory where she gets a solo career, whether she does it by leaving the group or still as a member of the group, so will we see more of her groupmates and how they react to that? AAAHHHHHH idk!

But if Amy IS a member of the group - a. what a wild coincidence lmao in a story where nothing is really a coincidence lmao and b. WHAT DO WE DO WITH THAT?

But you have an interesting point because something I've been talking with my friends about a lot is how we are very likely going to see Shinae becoming everything Alyssa wishes she could, similar to how we are probably going to watch Nol become everything Kousuke feared. To some degree, Alyssa has been spending her life trying to become Shinae, possibly without realizing it. She puts on a fake smile, much like Shinae's bright smile she wore when she told Alyssa how she deals with bullies. She tries to fake it, to emulate this long lost friend without remembering the rest of what Shinae told her. It's a lot like how Kousuke heard what Nol told him his mom said about Rand, but never really took in the part that Nol had never met that version of Rand. They're both so caught up on something about their foil and they never really get to grow because of it.

Shinae has a light that shines so bright, and it draws people to her. Her strong convictions, her sense of empathy, and her courage to do what she believes is right rather than what is easy attracts people to her. She has Nol's attention, Kousuke's attention, even Yui's attention. Shinae will continue to attract the attention of the people Alyssa is trying to attract, will continue to find a sense of self by being authentic in a way Alyssa is yet afraid to be. So while I'm unsure what kind of interactions Shinae might have with possibly-Amy-Alyssa's-group-member, you definitely bring up something that heavily relates to the dynamic I anticipate we'll be seeing: that even the group members Alyssa is unable to win over might be drawn to Shinae instead.

And god, that must feel SO bitter ;________;

[pedroscurls]

in every lifetime

summary: you lost logan in this universe. logan lost you in his. what happens when you both see each other again, but realize that you're both from different worlds? pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader warnings: post deadpool & wolverine ("worst" logan!variant), angst (mentions of death, loss from both reader and logan), no use of y/n. word count: 2.1k a/n: this is my first logan fic, so if anything is ooc, i'm sorry in advanced! just like everyone else, i've been obsessed with hugh jackman / logan after watching deadpool & wolverine (if it isn't obvious lol)... i had the song 'unchained melody' in mind when writing this story because whenever i hear it, i think of logan for some reason lol (tried to embed it but it didn't work, but i'd highly recommend listening to the song while reading this!) anyway, hope you enjoy! next part.

“I’ll be back.”

“But what if–”

“I always come back, bub.” Logan’s looking down at you, hand cupping your cheek. In moments like this, you can see the age in his features. The crows feet at the corners of his eyes. The gray in his hair and beard. 

“Logan…” Tears sting your eyes. You know he has to leave, has to go help Charles, but there’s a feeling deep in your gut that knows that if he goes, he isn't coming back. 

“Wait for me, then.” He says, dipping down to gently peck your lips. “Okay? Wait for me.” 

“Logan,” you repeat. “What do I do if I– if I lose you?” 

There’s a feeling in the pit of Logan’s stomach, a sense of dread and fear that he’s only ever felt when you were concerned. This feels a lot like a goodbye… That maybe if he does go, he won’t come back. And the thought alone scares him. He never used to have to think about the possibility of dying, his regenerative powers always healing him in record time, but he knows that he doesn’t heal as quickly as before. He feels more pain now than he ever had. And he knows he’s sick, knows that the adamantium that once gave him strength is now slowly making him weaker.

But now, the thought of dying… It fucking scared him. It scared him to think that he’d leave you here, all alone, grieving him. He had never thought he’d be deserving of someone like you, to be loved and taken care of so gently, so sweetly, so patiently. Even with all of the baggage he carried, you never pushed. He knew, right off the bat, that you deserved someone so much better than him, but you stayed. 

Through it all, you stayed. 

And Logan would forever be grateful. After everything he’s been through, the things he’s seen, the things he had to do, the people he’s lost, you gave him a life that was finally worth living. 

“Then, you move on, darlin’.” Logan finally answers. 

“And if I can’t?” 

“You’ll have to.” 

“I don’t… I don’t want you to go, but I know that you have to. Charles needs you and–”

“I love you with every fiber of my being, baby,” Logan interjects. “And I will love you in every lifetime.” 

And that was almost a year ago. The moment he stopped calling, you knew that was it. That he either got into some real trouble or… Or that he was no longer here. It wasn’t until a young girl named Laura showed up on your doorstep, holding his dog tags that your assumptions were correct. 

You had fallen to your knees, a sob escaping your lips, as you felt your world come crashing down. Logan’s death had left a gaping hole in your heart, in your life, and everywhere you looked and everywhere you went, all you could see was him. 

You learned from Laura that during his last moments, he had told her to come and find you, that you would take care of her and give her a good life. Whenever you were around her, you tried to be strong, tried to put on a brave front, but behind closed doors, you were a complete mess. There were days where you didn’t want to get out of bed, didn’t want to eat; you just wanted the pain to stop. Every night, whenever you closed your eyes, you forced yourself to sleep because that was the only place where you could be with him. 

In your dreams, he was alive. 

In your dreams, he had made it back home.

In your dreams, he was here with you, helping raise Laura. 

And every time you woke up, you were welcomed with the sudden reality that he wasn’t alive. He wasn’t coming back home. He wasn’t ever going to be here with you to help raise Laura. 

Logan was dead and now, you had to try and learn how to move on. 

For yourself.

For Laura.

For Logan. 

—

He didn’t know what he was doing here, why he agreed to stay with Wade because it was driving him crazy. This wasn’t even his timeline; he wasn’t even meant to be here. Despite saving Wade’s timeline, Logan still found it hard to fit in. He tried to keep Wade and every single one of his friends at an arm's distance because he knows what happens to people he cares about. 

But the more time he spent around them, the more he felt at ease. Logan would be lying if he said he was waiting for the other shoe to drop, but when Laura mentioned your name at one of Wade’s family dinners, his heart skipped a beat. When he realized he would be able to stay in this timeline, you were all he could think about. 

Logan wondered if you existed in this world and what he would do if you did. So, when Laura casually said your name, his head turned around so quickly that he felt dizzy. There were so many things he regretted in his own timeline, but you were his biggest regret. 

Just like he failed the other X-men, Logan had failed you too. You had been there with the other X-men, trying to warn them of a planned attack and ended up getting caught in the crossfire. You had called out for him, just like Scott, like Charles, like Storm. 

He managed to get to you before you had taken your last breath, holding you in his arms. Logan begged and begged for you to fight, that he’d do things right from now on as long as you just held on, but you were losing so much blood and Logan couldn’t stop it. 

Even then, when you had every right to be angry with him, you gazed up at him with an understanding look on your face. You had always been so patient and kind, so sweet and considerate. You had made him so happy and it scared him, which ultimately ended in pushing you away because he didn’t think he was deserving of it. Of you. 

“I love you, Logan,” you had said, wincing at the pain. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m–” Logan felt a sob catch in his throat, tears stinging his eyes as he looked down at you. “Please, baby, please please please, don’t–”

“I–” you coughed, eyes fluttering as you felt the pain overcome your entire body. “I will love you in every lifetime, Logan.” And then, you took your last breath, eyes falling shut and body falling limp in his arms. 

Since then, Logan drank himself day after day, from dawn to dusk. The alcohol never truly helped, his regenerative powers sobering him so fast, but with every swig of liquor, it burned. And he spent years bringing pain unto others, including himself. 

That was, until he met Wade who had given him a chance, a reason to fight for something… To not turn his back on someone who relied on him. A chance for redemption, to finally make things right. 

“So, will you meet her?” Laura asks, holding Dogpool in her arms as she gazes up at Logan. “She– She used to be with this universe’s Logan and…”

“No chance, kid.” Logan interrupts, shaking his head. “I’m not him.” 

“Did you have someone like her in yours?” she asks. “She’s always put me first, always made sure I was taken care of even when she didn’t have to, when she was grieving. And I think–” Laura sighs. “I think if she knows that some version of you is alive, it would make her real happy.”

“I’m not him,” Logan growls, feeling his irritation spike. “‘Sides, she’s better off without me.” He stands from the table and walks out into Wade’s balcony to get some fresh air, shutting the door behind him as he leans against the railing.

“But she’s coming tonight,” Laura finally says, long after Logan’s walked away.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, Logan remains outside. He can hear the muffled laughter coming from inside and it only angered him because it was just another confirmation that he didn’t belong here. He’s already on his fourth bottle of beer when he hears a familiar voice, smells a recognizable scent. He turns slightly and catches you stepping into Wade’s apartment, an arm slinging over Laura’s shoulders so casually, so maternally. 

He feels his heart rate pick up. Your smile still lights up a room and he can’t help but his lips turning upwards at the sight. With his enhanced hearing, Logan can hear your voice and he shuts his eyes for a moment, tuning all of his attention on you until you’re the only one he hears. 

Then, he hears your laugh and he lets out a sigh. He never thought he’d be able to hear that again, but his eyes shoot open when he hears you say his name. There’s a shocked tone in your voice, laced with sadness and hope. It all but crushes him because he knows that you’re probably expecting someone else, expecting this world’s Logan and he doesn’t want to disappoint you. Not again. He doesn’t think he’d be able to handle it if he were to hurt you again. 

But when he looks at you, his breath catches in his throat when your eyes meet his. Logan notices the surprise look on your face, but before he could try and escape, you’re already walking towards him. When you open the door and step out with him, your scent fills his senses and it makes him dizzy, like he can’t fully concentrate. 

“You…” he hears you say, voice unsteady. “You’re not… I’m–” you sigh and shake your head. 

“I know who you are,” Logan finally says, his own voice shaky. 

Your hands reach out for him, but stopping halfway when you realize this isn’t your Logan. This is not the same man who died all those years ago. This is some version of him – much younger, less wrinkles and gray hairs in his hair and beard, but he still has that same look on his face. The scowl. 

“From Laura?” you ask hesitantly. 

“From my universe,” Logan answers. 

“There– There’s a version of me in your universe?” 

“There was.”

“And what happened to me?” 

Logan’s jaw tightens. “The same thing that happened to your Logan in this universe.”

“Oh.” Your face drops, eyes softening. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. 

Logan wants to run far from here, far from you because he feels himself yearning for more. He almost forgot how it felt like to be near you, to be inches away that he can just reach out and pull you into his arms. Your eyes captivate him, the kindness it expresses makes him feel like he matters. You had always made him feel that way that even through all of his anger, through all of the walls he put up, you showed him that he was deserving of something good. Even if he didn’t believe it himself. 

And you… You were the best thing to ever happen to him.

“Don’t know why you’re apologizin’,” Logan mutters. 

There’s an uncomfortable silence that engulfs the both of you. He can see the tears threatening to spill over, can see the way your lower lip is beginning to tremble and he has this sudden urge to console you, to wipe away the tears that have now fallen down your cheeks. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat, bringing your hands up to wipe away the tears that seem to be trickling down your face nonstop. “I just– Losing my Logan just crushed me and I don’t think I’ve ever recovered.” 

My Logan. 

Logan can practically feel his heart beating in his chest. This isn’t a conversation that he thought he would be having and certainly not with someone he loved and died because of him. 

“That’s okay,” Logan responds quietly, his tone softening. “I don’t think it’s easy to recover from losing someone you love.”

“Did you– Did you love me in your universe?” 

Logan nods slowly, tightening his jaw as he gazes down at you. “With every fiber of my being.” 

Your eyes widen and stare up at him. This might be a different Logan, but hearing those words again just brings you back to the moment you last saw your Logan before he left to go take care of Charles. 

“Did you love me in yours?” Logan asks hesitantly.

You nod instantly, tears trickling down your cheek as you stare up at him. “I’d love you in every lifetime.” 

Logan feels his own set of tears pool at the corners of his eyes and he moves a hand to rest on the railing, fingers lightly brushing against yours as he stares into your eyes. 

“I’m not him,” he whispers. 

“I know,” you say quietly. “And I’m not her.” 

[hannieehaee]

18+ / mdi

content: bff'sbrother!jungkook, softdom!jungkook, enemies2lovers-ish, he's a lil annoying in this, angst, mentions of rejection, one-sided crush, afab reader, smut, fingering, dry humping, penetrative sex, overstimulation (kinda), etc.

wc: 4076

a/n: another jk fic bc im taking time off work and have nothing to do</3 this went longer than anticipated lol sorry

masterlist

"what are you doing here?", grumbled the man as soon as he opened the door and spotted you on the other side of it.

"can you get out of the way? i'm obviously here for minji."

"she doesn't get here til tomorrow," he responded, though still moving out of the way to let you in.

you were about to snark at him again when he stopped in his tracks, eyes widening when they made contact with the suitcases you were struggling to drag behind you, "why are you carrying suitcases? fuck, don't tell me you're staying here," he grabbed onto one, stopping your movements.

"yes, jungkook. minji told me i could crash here for spring break. what's it to you? your house is big enough. just ignore my presence," you attempted to move your suitcases again, knowing you'd receive no help from the boy even if you asked.

"so you're here to ruin my break?" the complaints were never ending despite having entered the home only mere moments ago.

"stop being a child and get out of my way," you grumbled when the idiot refused to remove his hand from the handle of your suitcase.

he let out a heavy sigh, scrunching his eyes closed in annoyance before speaking again, "okay, move. i'll bring your shit upstairs."

"no, i can-"

"you can't carry all this upstairs. my mom's gonna be mad if i don't offer to help you. just let go," he muttered, pushing your hands away and somehow lifting both suitcases at once as he walked towards the stairs.

without any energy to argue with him, you just followed him upstairs, annoyed he insisted to pretend to do you a favor.

"are your parents home?", you asked, confused as to why he had been the one to open the door.

"no, they went out of town this weekend. they should be here tonight."

"why are you here?"

you knew this was his home, but it was a valid question. this had been the third time you'd spent some sort of school break at minji's house, yet jungkook had never been there during the duration of it, usually only popping up for a day or two by the end of each break.

"you mean in my house?", he chuckled sarcastically.

"you're never here- you know what i meant."

"didn't have any plans this time. why? am i ruining your break?"

the two of you finally made it to the extra guest room in minji's house, with jungkook settling your stuff on the bed and uncharacteristically taking a seat on it, as if planning to hang around. you ignored the thought and went to open your suitcase, planning to unpack a few of the things since you'd be staying for over a week.

"yeah," you deadpanned.

he scoffed, "not like i wanna spend my break with you either, princess."

groaning, you threw a folded shirt at him, "ew, i told you not to call me that."

seemingly pleased at having annoyed you, he chuckled and picked up the shirt you threw, folding it and placing it on the bed. he continued to occasionally grab one thing or another as you unpacked. you always knew jungkook to be quite fidgety, so you didn't question him grabbing your stuff to entertain himself as you unpacked.

jungkook wordlessly stayed on your bed as you went around the room organizing your stuff, attempting to ignore his presence but not entirely able to. you were willing to retain peace without complaining, but then he started making noise.

you usually didn't care for his presence too much, even as badly as the two of you got along, but the constant humming quickly got on your nerves. he hummed and hummed and did not stop even as ten minutes passed by, still taking stuff from your suitcase to fidget with. currently he was entertaining himself with a random shoe.

"jungkook! why are you still here?", you suddenly snapped, confused as to why he'd been sitting on your bed with a blank look on his face despite usually being liberal in expressing his dislike for you.

he looked at you for a few moments, no emotion on his face before speaking up.

"why don't we get along?"

"what?"

"you heard me. why don't we get along? you've been friends with my sister since childhood, but you've always hated me. why?"

"you started it," you murmured, taking the shoe he currently had in his hold and turning around to place it somewhere else.

he got up, walking over to you and turning you around by your shoulders and taking the shoe from you again, "i started it? what are you talking about? you've been rude to me since the seventh grade. i've just been returning the favor."

sighing in frustration, you grabbed shook his hands off your shoulders and stubbornly grabbed the shoe again, "why do you think that is, jungkook?"

a confused look overtook his face at your insinuation of your relationship being his fault, clearly not remembering what you were referring to.

"wha-what are you talking about?"

"god, you're such a dumbass sometimes. i mean, i assumed you didn't remember, but to have confirmation of it just kinda sucks," you chuckled bitterly.

he grabbed onto your shoulders again when you tried to walk past him, "tell me what you're talking about," he insisted.

for the most part, you didn't want to. you still felt embarrassed thinking about it, even if it had been over a decade since it had happened. to know he really didn't remember the source of your dislike for him also didn't really help matters. it just frustrated you at his presence even more.

through the years you had learned not to take the mutual banter too seriously. it was mostly lighthearted, to be honest. but any time you thought back to how it had started, you became beyond angry at the boy who was seemingly nice too all those he knew but you. sure, you had technically been the one to source this animosity, but he bad been the instigator of it after all.

you had been nine years old at the time, having recently moved into town and befriended minji. she had been your salvation, becoming instantly interested in being your friend despite you being brand new. you became quick friends, hanging out inside and outside school almost every day.

minji had the good fortune of being extremely close to her family, which allowed you to bond with them quite a lot. that was when you met her older brother, one of her favorite people in the world.

jungkook had been pure perfection in your young eyes, seeing him as unattainable at the young age of nine. he was two years your senior, which made you come to the quick realization that your crush would remain one-sided forever. except this didn't stop your naive heart to read into his nice demeanor and wishfully believe that maybe he'd like you back.

you crushed on him silently for three years, even coming to befriend him in the process. you wouldn't see him too often, but it was always nice when you did, always getting along quite well. this continued up until you hit twelve years of age, your tweenhood years. unfortunately, jungkook was now into his teens, meaning that he followed the footprints of every other man and had a short-lived phase where he was a bit insensitive to girls his age.

being completely delusional and being on your way to graduate middle school, you took a leap, deciding to invite jungkook as your date to your middle school prom. you had thought you read all the signs right, thinking that even if he rejected you, he'd still be nice enough to go with you as a friend. your hopes were completely crushed when he turned you down with zero hesitance, even patronizing you in the process.

the worst part of it all came later, when you were first entering high school. somehow a few of his friends had gotten word of the situation, dubbing you as desperate and obsessed with him. although the rumors died pretty quickly, and you were able to feign indifference to jungkook and everyone else, the seed of hate began to grow in you. little by little, you stopped speaking to jungkook altogether, eventually coming to proudly dislike him. despite minji's constant questioning about your change in demeanor towards her brother, you never told, not wanting any drift to be caused between you and minji, nor her and her brother.

the gradual change in your feelings for jungkook had been so natural that it made sense for him to not remember the source of the current state of your relationship. he had caught on naturally, simply bantering back with you whenever you gave him attitude. it was likely that he believed it all to be lighthearted at first, eventually becoming accustomed enough to it to not question it.

and now you were here, having to explain a stupid childhood heartbreak to the perpetrator of it all as he stared down at you in absolute wonder.

"eighth grade, jungkook. remember?"

he shook his head in confusion, his eyes still wide as his brain wracked itself to remember.

"the dance?"

"the dance? what dan- oh! the- the dance? that's it?"

'that's it'?

he mustve caught the look of annoyance in your face, as he quickly went to retract himself.

"fuck, wait. i didn't mean it like that, just- is that why you hate me? because i said no to you?"

you took a step away from him again, still frustrated, but his arms remained on your shoulders so you would keep looking right at him. it was awkward and extremely uncomfortable considering the context, but you didn't move away.

"it wasn't just that, jungkook," you started, "was it that horrible of a thought to go to the dance with me? i was twelve, you couldve been nicer about it. and to tell your friends about it? i was mocked for weeks after that. and now you wanna act like this is my fault? like ive just been mean to you for no reason?", you scoffed, looking at your feet in favor of not having to look at him.

"wait, who ... who made fun of you? i- i never told anyone what happened. why would i do that?"

"jungkook, stop. taehyung? jimin? they wouldn't stop bringing it up for weeks. it died down after a while, but i was already humiliated."

he shook his head and denial, seemingly at himself. finally letting go of you, he sat back on the bed, look of confusion still on his face before a lightbulb metaphorically manifested itself above his head.

"oh fuck," he muttered, "i- i remember now, but it didn't go down the way you think, okay? let me explain."

you crossed your arms and nodded, signaling for him to continue.

he uncrossed his arms, running them through his hair in a frustrated fashion before he began to explain, oddly passionate as he did so, "i told them right after it happened. i felt so bad for saying no to you, they noticed how down i was about it and asked. i swear i didnt say anything bad. fuck, i never knew they teased you about it, im so sorry," he rambled, "and i didnt- i didnt mean to make you feel bad when i said no. you're my sister's best friend and- and you were so young. i know it doesnt matter anymore, but saying yes felt wrong. it felt like id be taking advantage of you somehow."

"jungkook-"

"if it makes you feel better," he hesitated before continuing, "i, uh, i kinda had a crush on you when we were 17. i- i was going to ask you to my prom, but you picked a fight with me that day and told me to get the fuck out. thats, that's kinda when i started to hate you back," he smiled awkwardly towards the end.

that took you for a bit of a loop. you weren't a heartless asshole. it wasnt like you meant to hurt him through your dislike of him, but rather protect yourself from further rejection. it made you feel bad to know that you'd somewhat done a similar thing to him at some point, even verbally berating him time after time when his intentions hadn't been malicious.

"are you serious?"

"do you really hate me? for what i did, i mean," he interrupted.

did you? for the most part, you had just grown far too used to your animosity with jungkook. due to your own mean behavior towards him, he became equally as rude, creating a vicious cycle of disrespect between the two of you. but did you hate him?

the answer was probably not.

if you did, your heart wouldn't have jumped at the mention of him having had a crush on you back when you were seventeen.

"no, i don't hate you. do you?"

he turned to you, shaking his head, "of course not," he confirmed, "do you wanna start over?", he asked, getting up from the bed and walking over to you.

you couldn't help but chuckle at his sudden proposal. you also couldnt help in nodding in agreement, confirming that yes, you'd be willing to put aside a petty middle school misunderstanding in favor of starting over.

then he opened his arms, gesturing for a hug before asking for permission for one, "hug?"

wordlessly, you accepted the offer of a friendly hug, reasoning that it was only natural considering how touchy he was with everyone other than yourself.

when you went to pull away, his arms tightened around you, head burying itself further into your hair, "just a little longer," he murmured.

with no reason to deny him, you wrapped your arms around him once more, only letting go when he started to slowly pull away.

that's when you made the mistake of looking up at him as he attempted to make himself let go of you.

seemingly, he had made the same mistake, now locking eyes with you at a proximity far too close for two people who hated each other just mere minutes ago. stupidly enough, your eyes predictably went down to his lips, not realizing his own had done the same. the only difference was that he was far more daring than you, allowing his lips to lower down onto yours and envelop them in a soft kiss.

greedy hands dug into your hips before making their way to your waist, holding you as close to him as he could. your own hands wrapped around his shoulders, moving to play with his hair as soon as the kiss turned more heated.

moaning against him, he pulled away for a second, still keeping his lips entirely too close to your own as he breathed through his nose to calm himself down. the following kiss was even more harrowing, causing you to take a step back due to the sheer force of it. he walked you back, pressing you up against the nearest wall as he took advantage of being able to crowd you, allowing his hands to get a feel of your body as you kissed.

despite how pathetically you followed his lips, he still pulled away, throwing his shirt off before going back to kissing you, letting his hands wander underneath your own shirt as he did so. his hands dug deep under your shirt, feeling up your bare breasts and groaning at the lack of bra.

gradually, his lips made their way to your ear and then down your neck, murmuring against your skin.

"fuck, so fucking pretty ... and so needy for me, huh? sound so good moaning for me like that," he breathed against you.

you burned up, embarrassed by how easily he had an effect on you, but you still let him do whatever he wanted, knowing that nothing you did would prevent your body from wanting his touch.

throwing off your shirt, his lips trailed down even further south, latching onto your nipples and groaning into your skin at the way you arched your body, pressing up even closer to him.

but suddenly there was a shift.

jungkook halted his movements, making his way back up to your lips and locking them with his own in a heavy and greedy kiss, resulting in a lack of breath from both of you. against your lips, he whispered something that made your knees buckle.

"i'm gonna pay you back for all those times you were mean to me, baby," his lips moved to your ear, chuckling at your anticipatory shudder, "gonna do whatever i want with this pretty body, yeah?"

nodding pathetically, you gave way for him to do anything he wanted. already drenched, there was no way you could possibly formulate any words that didn't come out as an embarrassing whine. he seemed to enjoy this too, holding a pleased smirk in his face as he easily dragged you over to the bed, pushing off your suitcase and dropping you on it with a bounce.

before you could even think, jungkook had already thrown off his shoes and undone his pants, his hands coming to do the same to you. your shaky hands attempted to help him, but he simply tsk'd at you, letting you know that he'd take care of everything tonight. everything, he emphasized.

"oh, fuck," he groaned once you were fully nude, "this is all mine now, yeah? fuck, been waiting for years for you to stop being a brat and let me have this pretty body all to myself," he kissed your lips between each sentence, "might lose control at how gorgeous and mine it is ..." he murmured as his hands took their rightful place exploring your body.

"kook-" you whined, already wanting him to do something – anything.

"shh, baby," he coo'd, "i'm gonna do whatever i want. and you're gonna take it like a good girl, okay? gonna behave for me for once."

fully crawling on top of you, jungkook went back to making out with you, wrapping your legs around his waist as he began humping against your already soaked cunt.

groaning, he pulled away for a second in favor of nibbling softly at your lip, "oh, this pretty pussy's so fucking soaked already ... thought you hated me, baby, what happened?" he chuckled darkly, giving you no room to answer before shoving his tongue in your mouth.

just as his tongue attempted to suck all air out of you, his hand suddenly snuck between your bodies, finding your cunt with ease and beginning to drag his fingers up and down your folds, not giving you want you needed.

"pretty fucking pussy," he murmured, "gonna play with your clit now, baby. it's gonna cry for me by the time im done."

his fingers found your clit almost immediately, taking turns in rubbing teasing circles over it and hammering in and out of your cunt. he swallowed every single moan, groaning against your lips any time your cries went so high they went straight to his cock.

"that good, pretty? so good that you have to cry for more? oh, baby. you're so lucky this pussy's so fucking cute. lucky i cant control myself around you ..."

"f-faster, please ..."

"faster? oh, like this?", his fingers slowed down drastically, barely stimulating you at all as you cried and clawed at his back, whining for more than he seemed willing to give you.

"n-no! please, just- just wanna cum, kookie. please?"

his fingers curled entirely too well at your cry of his nickname, even making him groan when he felt your own reaction to his fingers. it was clear he liked you crying out for him, so the more you did it, the more of his fingers he gave you, leading you to the verge of an orgasm.

afraid he'd try and deny you just for sadistic means, you cried for him prematurely, begging him to let you cum.

"kookie, p-please, please let me cum, i-i'll do anything. i'll give you anything, just, fuck, please!"

there was not a single care in you about how pathetic and out of character you sounded, not when jungkook's wasnt faring any better at the effect your desperation had on him.

"cum. cum for me, baby. wanna feel that cunt cream around my fingers so i can fill it back up with my own, okay? be good for me and- fuck, and cum ..." as much as he wanted to be in charge and show a dominant side to him, your cunt just kept dragging his fingers back in, making him feel a carnal need to steal your orgasm all for himself and many others after this one.

your hand wrapped around his free wrist, needing it as support as an otherworldly orgasm took over you. back arching and eyes rolling back, you became a sight that jungkook had only ever seen in his most depraved of dreams about you. he was surprised at his cock not bursting upon such an arousing view, making him realize that he needed to fuck you as soon as posible before losing his mind.

despite talking you through your orgasm, jungkook still gave you no time to recover before shoving his tongue in your mouth and grabbing his dick to drag up and down your sensitive folds.

crying against him, you attempted to push him away at first, feeling too sensitive for immediate stimulation, but your body gave up quickly after, melting into the overload of pleasure. tears crowded in your eyes, but your legs wrapped around his waist to pull him closer, needing more of that pressure against your cunt.

taking the hint and far too horny to drag this out any longer, he pushed inside you, groaning against you at the feeling of finally being wrapped around your warmth.

"it's so fucking wet ... oh, fuck. you wanted this so bad, didnt you, baby? fucking soaked and just pulling me in ... it's so- so tight n warm n perfect for me," he babbled, lost in pleasure.

jungkook's hips were restless against yours, an insatiable desire to chase for his pleasure taking over him as the sound of skin slapping made him dizzy. the occasional babble accompanied by a pitiful hiccup that came out of you did not help his situation, making him fear that he might cum before you.

"let- let me just get my finger there- yeah, fuck. just gonna rub that tiny little clit, okay? shit, you just tightened around my cock so fucking good ..." he groaned, thumb circling your clit to accelerate your orgasm.

"g-gonna, fuck, gonna cum ... p-please ... with me? cum with me?" you begged, barely able to get a single coherent word out while jungkook showed no mercy against you.

nodding, he kissed you, promising he'd cum – begging you to cum. counting you down, he whispered against your ear while his hips stuttered messily against your own, now completely overtaken by both yours and his orgasm.

the sounds shared between the two of you were nothing short of shameful, consisting of whines and cries filled with desperation. it was a depraved scene only meant for the two of you to enjoy.

pulling out of you proved to be a challenge, as jungkook would happily remained inside you until his last breath, but the thought of holding you innocently in his arms as you caught your breath was something he did not want to miss out on.

and so he held you against him, crowding your face against his chest so you could lay your head right by his heart.

"that was-"

"yeah," he breathed with a chuckle before turning to you with a boyish smile on his face, "i have a confession to make."

you turned around too, unable to not match his smile, "what is it?"

"i lied earlier. i, uh, i did like you when you were seventeen, but ... i kinda still like you."

it was impossible not to feel your face warm up at this, scrunching up your nose at how cutely he had confessed, "what if i said it was mutual?"

his smile somehow got bigger at that, "then i'd say i'm gonna have to steal you away from my sister," he pulled you into his chest again, enjoying the vibrations of your laugh.

a/n: this was rushed and not proofread sorry</3

[cherryheairt]

Hidden Truths pt.2

Cregan x wife!reader

named reader no description, from house Glover

masterlist

part 1

thank y'all so much for the kind words and eagerness to see this part. Please forgive me for not replying to all asks being sent to inbox, you'll understand with the chap lol. The pressure was so real I had planned to write other things between pt 1 and 2 but I dropped everything to do this between work and sleep lol

changed the og ending because so many people thought it would be more fitting and I agreed lol

anon pointed out my mistake on glover and bolton im so sorry for that confusion yall it is meant to be glover originally. i made too many mistakes im a mess rn

Ernest makes it to Cregan's solar first, Ron not far on his heels. Panting, the younger speaks up first when Cregan Stark shoots them a bewildered look whilst hunched over his oak desk.

"Was Lady Stark due for some business today, My Lord?" He asked, catching his breath as Cregan sat up in his seat, attention fully on the guards.

"Not any that I'm aware of. Where is my wife?" He asked, glancing outside of his small window to the blistering storm outside. There was no way she would be anywhere except her chambers—not after he caught her soothing Brandon to sleep. The sight had melted his heart immediately, glad to see his wife finally finding it in her to go see him, to give him a chance.

Though, he could not blame her, of course. He could still remember the day he brought the Stark babe home, and how he dreaded the meet throughout his months of journeying home to Winterfell.

Aelys had been on the forefront of his mind, even through the slimy politicking of King's Landing. The wait was only made ever longer by the fact that the party Cregan traveled North with had to wait until Brandon was old enough to travel, too. Moons went by painstakingly slow, and Cregan moved to load the carriage for the boy as soon as the Maester gave his word that Bran would not be suseptible to the outdoors during long durations on the road.

Cregan dismounted his grey mare, patting her on the neck in thanks before the stable boy guided her back to her designated place. With a tense sigh, he rolled his shoulders and opened the carriage door that held Brandon and his new wet nurse. Sara, his older sister, would join the family in a few short weeks while she continued her stay at the Blackwood's. He wished she was here to console his wife in the coming days. Gods know that he cannot, not when the news of his betrayal had to come from his own mouth. As he promised himself it should be. The sinner should say his own penance, no one else. A Stark is a slave to his oaths.

Thanking Greya kindly, Cregan picked up Bran in his arms. His onyx black curls shifted against the crook of his arm as he shifted the babe to be held better. The four moon-old babe fussed as he was removed from the woman's comforting hold. As if was, Cregan was more of a stranger to the young babe than his wet nurse was. Unfortunately, the Lord had not spent the amount of time with him as he knew he should have. The thoughts and guilt racked up in his mind and burned at the back of his throat every day, leaving Cregan to promise himself that in Winterfell he would spend more time with him.

Another promise for the list.

Cregan stepped through the courtyard's archway, holding his breath as he watched his beautiful wife standing by the Keep's doors, shivering but still insisting that she come out to meet her husband. Her smile was as lovely and bright as he remembered, a much more contented and relieved smile than she had sent him off to battle with. That day, she could hardly stifle her tears back as she hugged him 'goodbye'. He felt quite the same. Cregan would never leave for Southern business again, not in his lifetime. Once had been enough to last generations, though he was sure the Stark family would not go too long before being summoned again.

Her face shifted from joy to confusion in a matter of seconds. As Cregan continued straight towards her, Bran bundled up in so many wools and pelts that it entirely engulfed the babe. She lifted her skirts to step down to meet him. Originally, Cregan had wished to scoop her up in his arms and place a sweet kiss on her cold lips, but the bundle between them prevented such things. He could not greet her so sweetly and then present the bastard to her. Ripping the bandage off a fresh wound, Cregan would not be deceitful for longer than he had been during his moons of silence in the South.

"Husband," She smiled, reaching out to touch his chilled face, pink in the cheeks and ears from exposure. "You should come inside. A feast has been prepared for you—and your men, of course." She was antsy on her feet, eager to get inside to proper reunite with her husband, no bystanders gawking.

Speaking of bystanders—Cregan's entire party had separated and dispersed around the courtyard. They met their own wives, parents, or children as they laughed and conversed. Though, the loud and joyous clamor soon died down when whispers had been spread around by those who already knew of Cregan's boy. Wives that knew Aelys well stared in pity, clutching their shawls to their chests and shaking their heads quietly at their Lord.

He fought the urge to hang his head.

She had not yet seen the babe, only the cloth surrounding him.

"Cregan?" She whispered, tilting her head with concerned eyes. "What is wrong?" His sweet, sweet wife. Her first priority had been him over anything since the days of their honeymoon—the days she had confessed to be extremely anxious about during their courtship. She was a Northern woman herself, hardened and shaped like an ice sculpture but retaining her warm heart and spirit. Cregan had intimidated her greatly, according to her giggling confession, and she had feared he may be a cruel and selfish man since he could easily do as he wished to his Lady wife. He proved her wrong, apparently, getting to know his wife throughout their private honeymoon. They had a bond like no other, always at each other's side and filling in for the weaknesses of the other during their duties as leaders.

Cregan's brow furrowed deep, blinking away as he felt his nose start to sting.

Only then, when his glossy eyes met hers silently, did she glance down to the cloths. Slowly reaching up a shaky, gloved hand adjusted the pelts so she could peer past them. Gasping at the pale babe, Aelys' eyes sharply met his. A million thoughts raced through her head, clearly showing in her facial expressions. Not assuming the worst, as she probably should have done, Aelys asked, "has one of your men died? Is this babe an orphan?" Always so trusting of her Lord husband, something Cregan had admired and was eternally grateful for throughout their marriage.

"Aelys..." He cleared his throat when his voice came out much too quiet and hoarse. "This is my son." He declared to her, and to the onlooking crowd who did not bother hiding scandalized gasps.

Her eyes blinked in rapid succession, shaking her head lightly and smiling. "Don't jest, Cregan. We have no son."

His silence met her words. When he did not cave and admit to messing with his wife, Aelys shook her head more firmly. "No." She said, whispering. Her eyes clamped shut as she breathed in and out deeply, only opening to glance down at the babe, scrutinizing its appearing and comparing every freckle to Cregan's. "Don't do this to me, please. You would never do this to me." Her words were nearly lost to the air.

"It was one time, I swear it on my honor and Stark name." Cregan told her.

"On your name?" She harshly bit, stepping away from Cregan as if he had burned her. "Your honor? You swore on your honor the day we said our vows under the Weirwood tree. Under OUR Gods. Did that mean nothing to you? Did I—" She gasped out, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and clutching her stomach. A choking sob rippled through her, and Greya stepped forward to gingerly take Brandon from Cregan's grasp. His arms fell to his side, clenching as he stopped himself from holding his wife in comfort. She could find no solace in the man who hurt her so.

"I thought you wished to wait. You told me you wanted it, too. Was it just not me you wanted a family with?" She asked, cranking her neck up to look at her shameful husband.

"Aelys, I did—I do!" He started, stepping forward to wipe a hot tear from her cheek.

Flinching away from his touch, she looked up at him with the same mistrust and solemn acceptance that he found in a dying prey's eyes. Suddenly, Aelys looked to become aware of the crowd. Glancing around self-consciously, she straightened herself upright like the people expected of a Lady Stark. "The feast is growing cold. Enjoy it while it's warm." She loudly adressed the weary party and their families, who awkwardly moved to shuffle inside the dining hall. With a final glance past Cregan's shoulder to the wet nurse, Aelys was gone.

Seeing the shared glances of horror between the two, Cregan cleared his throat. "Where is my wife, boys?"

Ernest swallowed harshly, not daring to look him in the eye. "She—she said that she 'ad business in Winter Town. That you approved of it, I swear!"

Ron nodded so quickly that his head of curls messed about and framed his face further. The snow still on their heads and shoulders had now melted in the warmth of the Great Keep, reminding Cregan of the harsh weather the guards had to bear all day. They were trained and honed for such conditions, Aelys was not.

"Yes, Lord Stark! We couldn't disobey our Lady's words." He insisted.

"You think I'd make my wife go settle business in Winter Town during a blizzard?" He growled out, standing from his seat and storming between them to his doorway, where he turned on them and saw them both flinch in shock. "Which way did she go?"

"Uhm..." they shared another glance. "She said Winter Town, Lord Stark. What other way would she have gone?"

Cursing, Cregan grabbed Ice and lifted the great sword to his shoulder. He left without another word to anybody, knowing every second counted when it came to finding her. "Bloody fools." He scoffed to himself, mind turning and thinking of places she might head to.

Clearly, not Winter Town. She had no business there, not that he knew of, and although they had not been speaking these past moons he still oversaw all of her duties as Lady. Though, her reports of dealings and responsibilities was done through the Maester rather than her own mouth. A middleman, the poor elder had become. Cregan endured the silence without complaint, knowing his own actions brought it upon him.

His actions brought her further away from him than he perhaps estimated. He knew the babe would tear a rift in their relationship, and knew it would take a long time before they could even begin to mend it—but he never wanted it to go this far.

Back to her childhood home, to the Glovers in the Motte? Or, perhaps she found a secret lover that would meet her in the storm like a destined and tragic fairytale. He would not blame her for seeking love in another, though his never faded.

His quickened pace was only interrupted by Sara. "What is the rush for, brother?" The elder woman asked, dark brows furrowed with concern. Other the past four moons she had gained her strength back, looking the picture of health now that she was back home and recovering. Cregan could barely meet her gaze, looking between her and the doors ahead.

"My wife is gone." He told her honestly, shifting impaitiently in place. "I don't know where to, but I'm going to search for her."

Sara's dark eyes saddened, face scrunching up in grief. "This is my fault. I should have—"

Cregan stopped her immediately, taking her firmly by the shoulders and dipping his neck down to level himself. "No. It is mine alone. I made the choice to do this, I shall face the consequences of my actions."

"Cregan..." she sniffed, but did not allow tears to fall so easily.

"I'll be back." He promised. "With my wife."

Was she running away?

Cregan swung open the Great Keep's door, blinking staggardly at the wind gust that slammed into him. Not bothing to close it behind him, Cregan stormed to the stables and tacked his horse up. In a matter of minutes he was off and out of Winterfell's expansive walls.

His only option was to head towards Glover territory. It was a two days ride normally, but the storm would make it double or perhaps longer. She would not be far ahead, not even two hours ahead of Cregan and unknowing of how close he might be on her trail.

There were not even hoofprints left in her wake. The snow immediately covered all tracks and left only pristine fields of white powdery frost.

He would not know where she was until he spotted her amongst the white. Cobalt, her black stallion, was sure to stand out within close enough distance.

Until he did see her, he could only wait.

And it was exactly that; a waiting game. Cregan took only three days to reach the Deepwood Motte, faster than he anticipated. He was weary and exhausted, but still pumping with adrenaline and awake off sheer will. Here, in the safe walls of Harriston Glover's keep, his mare could finally have more than a few measly hours of rest, as well as food and water.

His fingers and toes burned with the edges of frostbite. Even in his thick protective gear, he was not entirely safe. The few, small fires that he built for himself in the cold nights gave him only a semblance of warmth. Each step felt like five as his vision blurred and weaned in and out. He steadied himself on a pole, waiting for his father-in-law to come downstairs to greet him. And, if luck be on his side, his Lady wife.

He owed more than an apology.

Harriston was a stern man, though not unreasonable. He loved his children and ensured they had only the best; education, caretakers, spouses. His eldest two children married long before Aelys was even of age to be wed, both men marrying Northern girls that they'd grown up with. When it came to his youngest and only girl, the man knew Lord Stark would be a most auspicious match. The Houses had long been friends and allies, and keeping the tradition of partnership thriving through marriage was no strange thing. He'd been even happier when Aelys wrote to him weekly, describing how enchanted she had been with her new husband and thanking him profusely for giving her a blessed match.

Now, the greyed man stood in front of Cregan with a deepset frown and a fierce look in his eyes. "Lord Stark. I thought you'd be busy in Winterfell."

Cregan cleared his throat, focusing on him intently. It made sense that the man was cross with him, especially after he assumed that Aelys had sent him a few lengthy letters telling of Cregan's infidelity. "I came to see my wife, and to bring her back home."

Harriston huffed a sarcastic laugh. "You send her back home, only to come yourself first?" He gestured around with his arms up.

Cregan tensed, "first? Is Aelys not already here?"

Lord Glover matched in his seriousness. "Aelys wrote to me three days ago, informing me that you had sent her here to be away from danger."

"I did not send her anywhere."

"You mean you do not know where my daughter is?" He asked, voice low and firm as he stepped closer. Though Harriston was a fine swordsman and a battle-worn fighter, Cregan did not fear the Lord's wrath, for he could easily best him in combat.

He did, however, have the brains to fear a furious father's vengeance.

His heart nearly beat out of his chest. "And she stated that she was on her way here?"

"I think I know what she said, boy." Lord Glover hissed. "Where is Aelys?"

"She must still be out there," Cregan murmured breathlessly, turning on his heel and running out of the fort's doors and back out to the stables. Cobalt was in none of them, confirmed to him that Lord Glover was not simply lying and hiding his wife away from him.

Cregan decided to take another horse—one well rested and ready to travel in the packed snow, unlike his own weary mare. Guiding it to the doors where Lord Glover had exited and looked at Cregan with a fear unlike the learned man usually expressed, he asked: Where are the kennels?"

When Aelys left to brave the storm alone, she had not anticipated the sheer unforgivable nature of it. Living in the North her whole life, she'd long grown used to cold weather and hunting for herself. Hunts often lasted days or weeks, being times of comraderie and companionship when out in the wilderness with your people. She had not been hunting in years, much less alone.

The snow had slowed her travel significantly and clouded her navigational judgment. North became South, and East became West after so long of walking. With the skies so darkened, it was even harder to tell the time of day. With every stop she made and every fire that burnt out too quickly for her to be fully warm, Aelys had grown desperate.

She found shelter in a half-conscious act to preserve her on life. Now, curled up with only her fur-lined dress and the pelt she had brought from Winterfell, she could not help but begin to accept that she would die in this cave.

Aelys thought of her life in a few curt thoughts.

She had only lived twenty and two years. She grew up with loving parents and two elder brothers who doted on her greatly. She married Lord Stark of Winterfell, someone who took her heart quicker than she'd ever thought possible. She would die here, alone and cold because of him.

She thought of all the things she had wanted from life. Not much, for a Lord's daughter. Aelys had always wanted love and gave love in return. Trusted perhaps too much and did not gain from it. She wished for children, eventually, and could never have them now. She wished to see the warm deserts of Dorne and the lush gardens of Old Town in her retirement.

Aelys Bolton would not see anything but the North, nothing but the cold snow and frost-tippes trees around. They had grown familiar and warm.

Warm.

She was so warm, now.

Aelys closed her eyes and fell asleep, dreaming of better days.

"You do not wish to return home to a babe in the nursery?" Aelys asked, voice low and humming as Cregan lay beneath her on their shared bed. Most men did, misliking the process of pregnacy but loving the outcome, for it could only serve to benefit them.

"We will have plenty of time for babes when I come back to you." He replied, brushing his lips over her the crown of her head. "What kind of husband would I be if I left you to deal with the struggles of pregnancy and birth all alone?"

"I won't be alone. Sara is staying, too. I will have a sister to keep me company and complain all my grievances about my missing husband to her." She said amusedly.

Cregan paused in his rhythmic stoking of her spine. "Sara has asked to come, my heart."

She paused, too, lifting her head from his chest and squinting at him. "Sara can come down to King's Landing with you, but I cannot?"

He sighed, shaking his head. "She will be staying at the Blackwood's residence at Raventree Hall, not King's Landing. I would never endanger either of you by bringing you to the capitol. She has been offered guest housing by her friend, Alysanne Blackwood, during my time down there."

She huffed, conceding to his words and dropping her head back down, listening again to his ever-steady heartbeat. "Must be nice to see the Riverlands." She said lightly. "I hear they have fields of flowers growing year-round."

"And the permanent smell of fish and mildew." Cregan added with a snort. "You're not missing anything, I swear it to you. Sara and I will be gone for a short period of time. I intend to leave as soon as things are settled and put to rest."

Aelys hummed her quiet acknowledgment. There was no argument to be had, not when Cregan was set to leave in the morning. "There must always be a Stark in Winterfell." She said cheekily, though there was plenty truth to the statement. Alone, she would serve as political head to Winterfell and the temporary 'Warden' while Cregan was missing in action. She had her advisors, consisting of Cregan's trusted councilmen, but the hole that she knew would sink itself into her heart already wore her into her.

Cregan laughed at her words, nodding. "Aye, my love, you will do perfectly. I'm sorry to leave you alone for so long, but I have no doubt you'll do great." He said proudly, kissing her nose. She scrunched it up at the ticklish feeling, allowing a girlish giggle to leave her throat.

"Don't be gone too long, husband. Your wife needs you here." She said, tilting her head up to meet his lips.

"I would never dream of it."

The moons passed by with no reprieve for Aelys. As Winterfell's sole head, her days were busy from dawn til dusk. Letters were exchanged sporadically with her husband while he helped Aegon iii ascend to his place on the iron throne.

Until, one day, his letters ceased. It had already been a full year without Cregan Stark, and Aelys was beginning to grow used to the lack of her husband and sister by her side. Routine had grown to be instinct for her, breezing through her duties like she'd done them all her life. The only thing missing was her lover.

Concerned, Aelys checked in with the resident Maester to ensure Cregan's wellbeing.

When he paused, lips pursed and hands clutching at his cane with a stress unlike the calm elder, he rasped out his own fears. "I, too, have received no word from Lord Stark. Though, no news has come of us death in the capitol, so he must simply be occupied."

Occupied at the end of the war? When Aegon had already been named King and all the men put to trial were either declared guilty or innocent? The brunt of the work was over and done with—told by Cregan himself.

So why was he silent for an entire moon?

It was another fortnite before the Stark wrote back to her. The letter was curt and brief.

My dearest Aelys,

Forgive my abrupt silence these past weeks. Please know that you have been on my mind throughout this entire time.

Sara has grown sick in Raventree Hall, and has not been able to travel with the host of men I have sent back home to the North. We will stay behind for another few moons while she is in recovery. I will return to you soon.

With love,

Cregan Stark.

It was shorter than his other letters by many paragraphs, pages even. Cregan left out no details when describing his miserable times in the capitol. Aelys found herself much enjoying his theatrical melodramatic retelling and was rendered bemused by this letter. Still, she continued to lead with no pause for breaks.

Three more moons later, and Cregan wrote that he was mere days away from Winterfell. Without Sara Snow, unfortunately, as she was still not entirely recovered, but his party could be postponed no longer.

Aelys rushed around Winterfell's Keep in a flurry of excitement. She ordered every room to be cleaned spotless, for rations to be saved for days until a feast could be made for their arrival, for hearths to be extra tended to, and for the courtyard to be prepared to clear the way for the host.

Finally, the days of busy bodies floating around the Great Keep came to a stop. The feast was warm and ready at all available tables. The hearths were warm and ready for sleepy heads to rest within the rooms. The tubs were filled with scalding hot water that would warm by the time they were used. Lady Stark stood for hours at the Great Keep's entry stairs in the courtyard.

She wanted to be there exactly when he walked through the archway. Despite the cold biting at her nose, the Lady stood resiliant and tall.

It was nearly in the afternoon when Cregan's party arrived. He came through first, leading as head of the host as any Lord should. A wheelhouse followed, surrounded by a small league of soliders all around it. She bounced on her heels slightly, seeing Cregan dismount from his ride. Though she found herself bemused and slightly hurt when he glanced at her and made his way towards the wheelhouse instead. Had Sara recovered enough to join and perhaps wanted to surprise her good sister? She hoped so, for she had missed her greatly. After growing up with only brothers, Aelys found a best friend and sister in Sara Snow. The whispers about Lady Stark befriending the bastard of Winterfell followed her around like a dark shadow, but she never paid them any mind.

Bastardry had never bothered Aelys before. Not even when she was a woman of noble birth and was taught that bastards were born inherently lustful, evil, and made of sin.

She waited patiently at the top of the steps for Cregan to fetch Sara.

To her surprise, he only pulled out of the carriage with a bundle of clothes in his arms. Pelts and blankets, it seemed. A plainly-dressed woman from the South stepped out after him but stayed trailing behind. A maid of some sort, though she had no clue as to why a Southern maid would need to follow Cregan back to Winterfell.

As he strided towards her, a strange and unhappy look on his face, she forced her anxiety back down her throat and raced to meet him. "Husband," she greeted with a smile. "You should come inside. A feast has been prepared for you—and your men, of course." Reaching out to caress his face and simultaneously brush flecks of snow from his loose hair, she couldn't help but stop to admire her husband's handsome features. It had felt like an eternity that they were separated, and she had begun to forget the full details of his frame. Forgot his scent in the room and his side of the bed. Nearly forgot the warmth that he provided simply from standing nearby.

The very warmth he is giving to her now, in the chilly courtyard.

His eyes appeared to gloss, his nose and cheeks pinking even more so than they had already grown in the biting air. Glancing over Cregan, she assessed quickly for signs of fatigue or illness.

"Cregan?" she asked gently. "What is wrong?" She prayed he did not catch whatever Sara had caught, or hid a wound under his mass of leathers and pelts.

When he shiftly lifted the bundle in his arms to gesture for her to look at it, she finally spared a look to the mysterious ball of cloth. She had completely forgotten about it until now, noticing the maid still behind Cregan a few yards back, head tilted down and looking at her slippers. Peeking over a fur pelt, Aelys gasped at the sight. A babe, only a few moons old by the looks of it. Her mind raced with possibilities. Why would Cregan bring a babe back instead of leaving it in more temperate climates like the Riverlands that he stayed in on the way up North?

"Has one of your men died?" She asked in a hushed tone, assuming first that one of his soldiers perhaps fathered a bastard babe before perishing in a battle or falling to sickness. "Is the babe an orphan?" Cregan did always have a soft spot for younglings, showcased clearly by his time spent personally training young squires of Winterfell. He had lost his own younger brother in their youth, and the hole had never filled from that loss of kin.

"Aelys..." he started, meeting her eyes with a soft and sympathetic look. "This is my son." Was said loud and clear for any listeners to hear.

A jest. Cregan had seldom liked to be humorous in front of crowds, or anyone but herself and Sara, but he must have been in good spirits today. Briefly glancing at the surrounding people, she found only pitiful looks from the women and severe looks from the men. Shaking her head, Aelys forced a smile onto her face and a shaky laugh. "Don't jest, Cregan. We have no son." She emphasized.

He only stared at her back. No words of comfort, no sudden burst of laughter among his men to tell her that the biggest prank in the world had been pulled on her. Just shameless silence.

He had declared her second best in front of all of Winterfell. Her people and his.

"No." She said firmly, shaking her head 'no'. She breathed in and out deeply, trying to clear her blurry eyes and woozy head. Glaring down at the false babe in his arms, she found many similarities that she wished she had not. The same straight brows that Cregan had, the same scattered freckles, the same pale skin. The only difference was the hair color—black as a midnight sky or dragonglass. The mother must be beautiful.

Moving her eyes to the maid behind Cregan, she found that the girl had a mousy blonde color to her tresses. She could not have possibly bore a black-haired babe. She felt sick, like she'd throw up and choke at the same time. "Don't do this to me. You'd never do this to me." She pleaded out, voice small and hoarse.

"It was one time. I swear it on my honor and Stark name." Cregan promised. But every word was like poison, filling her heart with a heavy black liquid and drowning her from the inside out.

"On your name?" She hissed out, uncaring of the onlookers for this one moment. She was allowed to be angry, callous, and spiteful, even. Any self-respecting woman would be. And she'd be damned if she wasn't. Any Stark woman ought to be when ruling over the entire North. Any Glover woman is.

"Your honor? You swore on your honor the day we said our vows under the Weirwood tree. Under OUR Gods! Did that mean nothing to you? Did I—?" Words spilled from her mouth before she can think properly. But she did not regret any of them, knowing she was in the right. Bile rose in her throat, pushing itself past the forced down emotions. She swiftly covered her mouth, stilling herself to prevent any more embarrassing. Subconsciously, she clutched at her empty stomach with her free hand, both mourning the fact that she'd have no children and thanking the Gods for not giving her any previously. A cry finally escaped her lips, watching the plain maid take the babe into her arms again as Cregan looked on helplessly to his wife.

Aelys found her voice again, though it was ragged and tired. "I thought you wished to wait. You told me you wanted it, too." He was a liar, the worst kind of man. "Was it just not me you wanted a family with?"

She'd rather be struck with his hand than his deceitful mouth. It would hurt much less.

"I did, Aelys—I do!" He pleaded, stepping forward to console her. His arms looked like steel traps in her louded mind.

She took a lengthy step back. She would not share his warmth, nor his love. Or his bed, his room, his damned dining room. His children. Not when he had shared it with another woman. Given her his love, his attention, his son.

She could not bear to keep herself calm any longer. Adressing the entire courtyard, who had made themselves the Stark's own personal peanut gallery, she spoke firmly. "The feast is growing cold. Enjoy it while it's warm." Without a second glance back at the Stark, Aelys excused herself to her chambers, where she emptied the contents of her stomach into the chamberpot until she could only dry-heave nothingness. These chambers had not been used since she arrived in Winterfell, instead choosing to sleep and stay in their marital ones. She would not step foot into those again unless she was dragged kicking and screaming.

Aelys awoke to strong arms lifting her from the stone floor. Groggily, she was stirred from her deep and preserving sleep. How long had she been traveling? How long had she been buried under those pelts? Time was a blur when she was in a near comatose state, dead to the world. Limbs were numbed and her body felt warm after so long in the cold weather.

"I've got you, sweet girl. We're going home." A familiar voice rung in the back of her head. Even the jolting movements of a horse trotting could not fully move her to consciousness as she fell back asleep.

When she fully gained her sense of mind, she could clearly hear the sound of two men arguing. The warmth of a hearth was next to her as she lifted heavy blankets and furs off of her body. Glancing around, Aelys found herself back right where it all started. In Cregan's room, formerly their marital chambers that she had long since moved out of. A large oil painting sat over the heart, depicting a newlywed image of her and Cregan. They both smiled brightly in the photo, much to Cregan's complaint that the painting did not make him look 'serious enough'. She only laughed and tipped the painter extra gold dragons for the accuracy.

She loved that painting more than any others they kept in the Great Keep. Now, the two faces looking down at her only served to remind her of the falsehood she lived every day while Cregan was absent. Taking care of Winterfell and the North all by herself, just to come back and be thanked by his uncouth mistakes.

Shakily standing up, she winced at the feeling coming back to her limbs. Wriggling all twenty of her toes and fingers, she ensured they still all had feeling. Miraculously, she did. The numbess still felt vaguely there, and her throat was extremely dry and achy. But at least she was alive. Even if it was back in Winterfell, she could attempt her return to the Motte as soon as the storm died down.

It had been a dreadful blizzard. Not a rare sight in the North, but usually none lasted so long. Aelys could not help but feel it was the Gods punish Cregan and Aelys for their marital spat. Something like this must be so futile and useless in their eyes and the eyes of the people of the realm, but to Aelys it was her world and her life. No one could help Aelys but herself. She'd leave these spoiled halls even if the Old Gods and the New wished otherwise. If Cregan didn't have to keep oaths, why should she?

Opening the large wooden door, Aelys found the source of the faint yelling. Her eyes widened at the sight of her father in front of Cregan, in all his gruff charm with his silver hair and beard. She hadn't seen him in nearly two years. She stayed at the archway under the door, simply listening in as the men shouted further down the hall. If either turned their heads, they would spot her eavesdropping.

"—cannot even keep her safe during Winter! Am I to expect her to stay safe during a wildling attack, or worse? Or will you be prioritizing the safety of your mistress?" Harriston shouted, veins nearly popping out from his forehead and neck in his fury. Snow still gathered on his pelt coat, meaning he had just arrived recently.

"It is my mistake that she was endangered out there—but I would never let such a thing happen again under my protection. This is her home, I cannot allow her to go back to the Dreadfort. She is a Stark." Cregan emphasized, though had a defensive raised tone.

"Was she a Stark when you bed a whore in King's Landing?"

"The situation is more complicated than that." He responded, clenching his jaw.

"Nothing could ever be more complicated than losing your wit at a brothel, Stark. There is no argument to be had. She is staying with her family, where she was intending." Harriston growled out, a tone of finality to his tone. As he swung on his feet to head down the hall, face set in a worried and seething anger, he finally spotted his daughter.

"Aelys!" He yelled in relief, rushing toward her and scooping her up into his thick arms. "We're going home immediately. We will wash our hands of the Starks once and for all."

"I will not allow that." Cregan spoke from behind. As Aelys hugged her father back just as tightly, it was a battle to keep her tears from flowing in his safe arms. She missed her father more than she knew.

Before Harristone could speak, Aelys nodded. "We will settle this." She said flatly. Her father hesitantly let her go, nodding once firmly after seeing the resolve in his daughter's eyes.

"Very well. I will wait in the dining hall for you." He sighed, walking away.

Aelys shivered in the loss of warmth again. In her bare feet and night gown, she felt the cold of the cobblestone walls and floors start to seep under her skin again. "Here," Cregan murmured, gently shifting his mass of brown wolf pelt over her shoulders and clicking the direwolf emblem into place.

She allowed it, though she did not thank him with words. She took a deep breath, looking him in the eyes. "I want to separate. Divorce, I mean." She said tiredly.

Cregan flinched, jaw ticking and heavily considering her words. "That is entirely my fault. It is in your right to ask that of me." He said, voice dimmed and not nearly half of his assuredness. "But please, hear me out."

"What could I possibly hear you out with?" She asked, exhaustion clear in her tone. She'd dealt with this situation long enough.

Cregan nudged the door back open, nodding for her to enter. Reluctantly, she led the way in and watched as he gently shut it behind them. "I swore an oath, nearly nine moons ago." Cregan started.

Her brows furrowed, bemused. "To whom?"

Guiltily, he looked down at her, looking much alike to a kicked pup. "My sister."

"To Sara? What ever for?" She grew frustrated, knowing he was beating around the bush.

Taking a deep breath, he told her everything. "Sara stayed with her friend Alysanne Blackwood in Raventree hall for the entire time I was aiding King Aegon. In that time—she fell pregnant."

Aelys' heart dropped to her stomach. The same sick feeling overtaking her. She did not say a word.

"Davos Blackwood and Sara had built a bond, much like we did." He said. "When she told Davos of the news, they both went to Lord Blackwood to plea to marry each other. He refused, not allowing his heir to marry a bastard."

"And you legitimized Brandon as your own in turn?" She hissed.

"Sara begged me to. She lived her life as a bastard—she did not wish the same for her own son. I swore to her that my nephew would never be allowed the same treatment. I knew Aegon would do it." He trailed.

"So you bring him home, and humiliate me instead? You didn't even tell me, your own wife! You chose Sara over me. She is your sister, I know, but she chose to be with Davos Blackwood." She could have taken a tea, or moved to Essos or Dorne where bastards were more accepted. There were other options, but neither Sara nor Cregan used them. "That is cruel, Cregan. It is heartless." She cried.

"I never wished to hurt you, I only wanted to protect her. It was my oath." Cregan pleaded, grabbing her hands in his.

She shivered again, though unknowing if it was in chill or her own anger. Part of her was happy that he never truly took another woman to bed—never picked another other her. Though he still hid the biggest secret in the world from her for moons. Allowed her to suffer in their shared home and withstand the pitious looks of the people and court.

"I can't trust you. Not ever again. You could not trust me with your own kin's truth, and punished me for it." She stated. She could not allow herself to cave in so easily, to fall back into his arms.

"I understand, sweet girl." He muttered, softly stroking the apple of her cheek almost mindlessly. "I will sign whatever the Maester's conjure up. You will be free to marry whoever you wish—someone who will not lie to you."

The Starks were known for their loyalty and devotedness to their oaths. If Cregan Stark had lied to his wife so easily, no lesser man could ever make her happy with faithfulness and loyalty. Aelys had accepted her life to be one of loneliness from the day Brandon was allowed into the home.

"I will stay in Deepwood Motte for the time being. From there, I will see where my path leads." She said vaguely, unknowing now of what her heart desired. "Wish Sara well for me." Aelys asked of him, leaving him behind as she wiped any straying tears from her face.

"I love you, Aelys." He said, calling softly after her.

"I know." She whispered to herself.

In the dining hall, Harriston awaited her arrival. Perking up when she entered, he knowingly took her into his arms. "I'm tired, father."

"Let's go home. Your mother has missed you dearly." He said, planting a fatherly kiss to her temple.

Aelys would not yet send word for a formal separation to the Citadel or to the King. For now, time apart was what she declared best for herself.

divider by - @issysh3ll

tags - @palomavz @emithefrog @karinalight @johnshelbywife @tojisrealwifey @baddielizzy @pearldaisy @brookiecookie @jessicar401 @hardkiddonut @littlelilly27-blog @nayaniasworld @just-mj-or-not @flaneurpastel @unsweetenedpeatea @blucesita09 @maxmegara @deeeeexx @masschotch @janniepark1997 @spongelistener @margaaaa30 @paracii @lovebabe18 @rey26 @damneddamsy @yunnifer @kenzcarson @glqmmywhqmmy @arizonadesert @blumin8 @its-your-girl-savy @dreamygirli3 @aemondloverr @zaranobiyuyu @nsr-15 @oxymakestheworldgoround @isansstuff @high-speed-r

so many tags dont work 🥲 will try to tell in comment sec

ending is ambiguous. Will she decide to divorce or eventually mend their relationship? Up to you!

might make an alt ending where he really is just a shitty guy but this had been my idea from the start (many guessed it and i could not reply to them because of it lmao)

sorry if those two scenes got repetitive, but I wanted to show the 'cregan bringing brandon home' from both of their more detailed perspectives. Cregan's shame and guilt and her humiliation and heartbreak.

so many people guessed so close (to the sara part at least) only saw Jace thoughts tho, but he's already dead long before Cregan's walk down to the South. Would have been much more dramatic, but I think Jace would never allow a child of his to be apart from him. Many people swayed me to lead them to separate instead of stick together, and it does make more sense to have her leave him in the end. Although he did not cheat he still lied and publicly humiliated her, even unintentionally, but he's a grown man who is smart enough to know consequences.

[ellecdc]

The other day I was at the pub and some cockroach of a man spiked my drink and this really nice guy was helping me out. He was british!! turns out it was my best friend 😭😭😭😭 Can I please request a reader who's been spiked and either of the boys or ships help her out. I honestly thought james was there I was so drunk 💀 Im being very open about this because it unfortunately happens a lot in my area but I had my girlie with me so it was ok lol if it makes you uncomfortable please feel free to ignore this request! :D

thanks for your patience with this! I'm so sorry this happened to you, but I knew I needed to save it for when inspiration struck (four months later). glad you were alright and your friend (read: James) was there to help you through it <3 -> please note, my requests are currently closed

Regulus Black x fem!reader whose drink was spiked [1.2k words]

CW: spiking someones drink [not described], feeling inebriated due to said drugging, blacking-out/not remembering a period of time, discussion of past vomiting [not described], reader has hair long enough to push behind her ear, hurt/comfort & fluff

Your body felt like it was rolling languidly with the waves; a vessel in search of a shore beyond your line of sight. 

A moan escaped your lips as you followed the waves forward when you felt a cold hand on the back of your neck.

“Do you need to throw up again?”

Again? 

“Again?” You managed around another moan, though your voice came out hoarse and your throat burned something fierce as if you had swallowed lighter fluid. 

The voice simply hummed in agreement; gentle and cautious, its thumb roving back and forth through the baby hairs on the back of your neck. 

“You’re alright.” The voice promised, sounding as though this wasn’t the first time they’d said it. 

“When was I not alright?” You asked through a sigh, sitting back on your heels as you tried to pry your eyes open. 

You were accosted by the sight of a brilliantly beautiful man; short, black curls falling in front his eyes, his dark brows furrowed as his grey eyes scanned your face in concern and perhaps some pity. He lifted a hand and pushed some of your hair that had fallen in front of your own eyes behind your ear; long fingers brushing a barely there touch against your cheek. 

“Are you beginning to feel more lucid?” He murmured quietly, and you noticed then that his position mirrored your own.

Horrifyingly, you were kneeling on the floor of a sterile looking stainless steel bathroom in front of a toilet; you could still hear the thrumming bass through the walls, but you were clearly much further into the building than the bathrooms attached to the dance floor.

And then there was this beautiful man - this beautiful, angelic man with a jaw that looked to be chiselled from the finest stone kneeling beside you; the knees of his well-tailored black dress pants on the ground of a public bathroom, the sleeves of his white button-up shirt rolled to his elbows as his hand returned to the back of your neck where it continued its comforting ministrations. 

And then you saw a name tag. 

“Regulus.” You recited, and you hoped that you didn’t look as disgusting as you felt in the presence of such a handsome bloke. You decided you’d be embarrassed about it later.

“There she is.” He murmured quietly, though you had the impression he was mostly talking to himself. “Can you drink this for me?” He asked then, offering you a cup of water that you went to accept without hesitation.

Your limbs seemed to be working against you; your arms moving in slow motion as you took the cup from his hands, and shaking nearly violently as you brought it to your lips. 

“Easy does it.” Regulus coached as you took slow sips. “Very good.” 

“What happened?” You asked then, relinquishing the cup back to his much more capable hands that he placed beside him. 

“I…I think the guy you were dancing with spiked your drink, darling. I’m so sorry.” He explained, no longer able to look you in the eyes but voice taught with ingenuity. 

“Why are you sorry?” You asked then, trying to intonate humour into your words, though even your own ears recognised how tired you sounded. 

His grey eyes met yours again; regret, guilt, and remorse swimming behind his irises. 

“I should have noticed sooner. I should’ve been keeping a closer eye on you, maybe-”

“S’not your job.” You offered quickly, patting the back of his hand currently resting atop his knee clumsily. 

His face darkened slightly, though he lifted his hand to welcome yours into its grasp. “I’m supposed to make sure everyone’s having fun and staying safe.” 

“Well…” You started, pausing to look around the dark and quiet bathroom before returning your eyes to him. “It sort of looks like you’ve kept me safe?” 

His lip quirked again, though he didn’t verbally agree with you. 

“Have you…been sitting here with me the whole time?” You asked, and if you were feeling any better, you probably would have tried to tease him for the furious blush that took over his face. 

“I- well, yeah…the bouncers were already looking for the bloke and…I didn’t want you to be alone.” 

You tried to smile at him - your body still not cooperating to its fullest extent - but based off of Regulus’ returning smile, he seemed to have picked up on it nonetheless. 

“That’s very nice of you; you’re very nice.” You murmured, changing positions from your knees to sitting with your legs crossed. It was clumsy, and Regulus had to catch you from falling over once, but you thanked your earlier self for deciding on the jeans and not the skirt. 

“So you’ve said.” Regulus replied; a teasing lilt in his voice that immediately flooded you with embarrassment. 

“Oh god; what did I say?”

“Nothing too embarrassing.” He mollified, but the pleased smile on his face and the blush on his cheeks told you otherwise. 

You groaned and let your head fall back against the vanity, both the echo it caused and the small sound of protest from the back of Regulus’ throat signalling you to the fact that it was probably going to hurt later. 

“Please tell me? S’not fair that you can remember and I don’t.” You pouted miserably; you had been teasing (mostly), but the result was Regulus’ face falling immediately as he returned to his earlier guilt. You felt awful for it. 

“Was nothing bad, really.” He offered noncommittally. “Something about having a - erm - guardian angel, and…that I was…beautiful?” 

Your hand itched to reach out and touch the cheek of said beautiful guardian angel where it was a lovely (and furious) pink - to see if it was just as warm beneath your fingers as it looked - but between your lack of coordination, the bone deep tired that was settling throughout your body, and the fact that up until….maybe two minutes ago, you hadn’t even known his name, you fought the urge. 

“Well, good thing I didn’t say anything that was untrue, I suppose.” You offered simply, hoping you didn’t smile too brightly when you saw his head snap up in your peripheral as he stared at you in awe. 

“You’re a flirt when you’re inebriated.” He accused.

“I’m a flirt when I’m sober, too.” You volleyed, allowing your heavy eyes to close knowing you were in safe and welcome company. 

You swore you could hear the smirk that took over his face. “Now that I’ve got to see.”

“Yeah?” You asked, lifting your head to smile at him. “Want my number so you can find out?”

He rolled his eyes goodnaturedly and pulled out a paper and pen from his waist apron before jotting something down. 

“How about you text me when you’re feeling better and you can decide if this wasn’t all just a bad dream or something.” 

“A bad dream with an angel in it?” You teased. “Impossible, Regulus.” 

God, that blush. 

You would definitely be texting him tomorrow.

[chunghasweetie]

𝐏𝐔𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐄 | J.JK

— pairing | fem!oc x tattoo artist!jjk

— summary | jungkook’s still closing up after a long day of work. she went to his shop right after work and she was drained. luckily jungkook was just the right one to cheer her up

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

unprotected sex, cursing, praising, just sex lol

— word count | 1.3k words

— song suggestion | put it on me — austin mahone

Jungkook had been working at the shop all day. All sorts of clients going in and out of his shop.

His employees had already gone home a while ago. He was still closing up for the night.

He was exhausted and drained. He just wanted to see his girl, though she had never left his mind through his shift.

The clock had just struck 12pm and JK’s Ink Lounge had finally closed up for the night. It was late, and she was barely getting off work around the same time as well.

He hadn’t seen her since last night because of their busy schedules.

She was a nurse and would work insane hours at the clinic. The two hadn’t had a work break in quite some time.

A knock was heard on the locked door of the shop. “We’re closed!” Jungkook called out before looking at the door, realizing it was actually his girlfriend, not a customer.

“Oh shit.” He cursed to himself, getting out and unlocking the door for her.

Jungkook's face lights up when he sees her enter his shop.

“Sorry baby. I forgot my key.” She apologized, pecking her boyfriend’s lips.

“It’s okay beautiful. What made you come here? Aren’t you tired? I thought you were at home.” He asked her, a hint of concern in his voice.

“Wanted to see my boo.” She hummed. “Never get to really see you anymore.”

He exhaled, “Yeah I know.”

“I got dropped tonight so I thought my lovely boyfriend would pick us up dinner on the way home.” She fluttered her lashes cutely.

“Anything for my baby.”

“I’ll help you close. Just do your online stuff and I’ll clean.” Y/n walked to the front desk, setting her purse down.

“No no baby.” Jungkook stopped her. “You gotta be tired Y/n. I don’t want to do that to you.”

“It’s not that bad baby.” She chuckled, grabbing some cleaning products to properly prep the studio. “I want to help you.”

Y/n could almost run the studio on her own. She knew everything and was more than willing to help her man out.

“You’re so amazing.” He kissed her cheek. “I’ll hurry.”

“No rush.” She shook her head, getting straight to cleaning.

The two worked on the closing duties, making sure every part of the studio was ready for tomorrow.

“How was work today baby?”

“It was okay.” Y/n shrugged. “I’m so drained.” She complained, taking a seat on his lap.

Jungkook immediately notices her drained expression, and his face falls. He pulls her into a tight hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "What happened, mama?"

“Short staffed again so I was kinda irritated.” She sighed.

He sighs softly, understanding her fatigue all too well. "You know I'm here for you, mama. Always."

His thumb gently strokes the side of her face, trying to ease her stress. "Why don't you let me take care of you for once?"

“Mm no. It’s my job to take care of you.” She protested.

He chuckles softly, shaking his head at her stubbornness. "That's my job, mama. You're too tired to argue, and I can tell you need some pampering."

“You’re so hard working baby. You’re better than me because you can take so much.” He hummed. “Sorry about your day baby.”

His thumb gently traces the outline her lips, before gently kissing them. "Let me take care of you tonight.

“Please.” She gave in, “I need it.”

"You're too beautiful to say no to." He carries her to a guest futon and sits down with her, his arm around her waist as he kisses her once again.

He groans softly, kissing her deeper and harder as his hands begin to roam her body.

"You know what I'm thinking about, pretty?" He whispers into her ear, his lips brushing against it. "I can't wait much longer. I was fucking trying to wait until we got home but— shit I can’t.”

“So fucking pretty” He whispered.

He begins to undress her, kissing every exposed inch of skin.

“Been wanting this for so long.” She spoke, “We never have time anymore.”

He groans as he hears that, his hands cupping her ass as he her you closer to him.

"Fuck I know pretty. I've wanted it just as bad you have no idea.” He lifts her up and positions himself before lowering her onto him.

“Haven’t seen you in so long.” She mumbled. “Haven’t touched you in forever.”

He nods in agreement as he thrusts up in her. "I know, baby. I've missed this too." His hands roam her body, touching every inch of it as he whispers sweet things to her.

"I love you, mama. You're so fucking beautiful." He croaked out.

His hands travel down her body and between her legs, rubbing her in just the right spot as he watches her with lust-filled eyes.

“Mm” She hummed.

Jungkook’s eyes darken at her soft moans as he leans in closer. "Do you want me to fuck you now, baby?"

He whispers hotly in your ear before nipping at her earlobe. "Because I want to fuck you so fucking bad right now. Just say the word.”

“Jungkook please. Want this so bad.” She whimpered

He growls at her whines, pulling out of her before flipping her over and pushing back into her. "Like this, baby?"

His hips piston in and out of her as he holds onto her hips, tugging her back into him as he thrusts forward.

“Fuck Jungkook— yes.”

He smirks as he listens to her pleas for more.

"Yes, baby?" He leans over her, his chest pressed against her back. "Do you like it when I fuck you rough?"

He moans at her words, his thrusts getting faster and harder. "Yeah, baby. You like when I fuck you rough like this hm? You're such a good girl for me."

He bites down on her shoulder as he reaches around and starts rubbing her clit. “So good for me.”

He smirks against her skin, feeling her getting closer to her release.

"That's right, baby. Cum for me. I wanna hear you scream my name." He thrusts into her a few more times before reaching down and starting to rub her clit furiously.

Her legs were shaking and her body was reacting all too well to his touch.

Jungkook was reaching his orgasm as well, trying to chase it with hers.

“Fuck I’m cumming.” She whined.

He groans at her words, feeling himself getting closer to his own release. "Yeah, baby. Cum for me. Cum all over my cock."

He thrusts into her as hard as he can, triggering her orgasm. "Fuck” Jungkook cursed.

“Feels so good— shit” she whimpered.

He growls at her words, feeling himself getting even closer to his release. "Yeah? Mm gonna cum all inside this pussy."

He thrusts into her a few more times before he couldn't take it anymore and cums inside her with a loud groan, filling her up.

“Shitttt” She panted, looking at how messy her pussy was because of them.

He pants hard, his forehead resting against hers as he tries to catch his breath. "Damn, baby. You felt so fucking good."

He smirks and kisses her lips gently. "Thank you, you always let me fuck you so good."

“Anything for you my love.” She giggled. “I can’t believe we had sex in here again.”

He lets out a chuckle, kissing her forehead. "Yeah, I know. I can't help it though. Everytime you walk in here I know I’m done for."

He smirks and kisses her again. "You always make me so excited.”

“You’re just lucky I can’t resist.” She laughed. “Let’s clean now so we can go get food. I’m fucking starving.”

He nods. "Yeah, let's clean up. My stomach is killing me." He pulls out of you and helps clean her up.

“I’m not done with you once we’re home.” He mumbled. “Once that food in my system I’m ready to go.”

“You can’t be serious.” She laughed.

[siddyyyyyyyy]

OHH okay! Thank you for answering my question! Then, if you can, how would bat boys(or kyle lol) flirting with Mc, who at the end of the convo reveals that they have a kid(like 5yo) and would completely understand if they didn't wanted to take this further?

OR! OR OR OROR-

Imagine Mc is Bruce's daughter who was not involved in bat business and went abroad, hiding from the media with their partner, living their best life when all of the sudden, batfam visits and they both look at Mc and the baby in their arms and everyone's like "WDYM YOU HAVE A BABY AND WE NEVER KNEW- WDYM IT'S BEEN 3 MONTHS???" (basically the case that, you never showed the sighs of Pregnant went to labor and suddenly you have a kid you didn't even know existed til last minute. And in your panic and stress forgot to inform them but this is just what I think would happen you don't have to use it lol)

you don't have to do this lol, ty for taking time to read this<3 HAVE A GREAT DQYY!!

BATBOYS REACTING TO YOU HAVING A KID

pairing: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake x Reader (seperated) summary: Batboys flirt with you until they realise you have a small child warnings: none a/n: I didn't put Damian Wayne in here, I thought it felt a bit off, so I added Bruce to it! Thank you for the request, I chose the first option you described, but I'll maybe consider writing something for the second option. This is a little different from my usual format, but I made sure this still looks pretty and can be understandable. Thank you again and also have a great day!!!

BRUCE WAYNE

He saw you before, once, when he was Damian's dog out for a walk at the park nearby. At first, he didn't plan on flirting with you when Titus walked over and sniffed at your bag.

At first he was afraid you'd get scared when a Great Dane came your way and curiously sniffed at your handbag, but you didn't budge a muscle at him.

So, of course, Bruce came over to pick up the dog and hopefully not make you freak out. With a light jog, he quickly put the leash back on Titus, already looking sheepish at the situation.

"Sorry about him, he didn't scare you, did he?", but you seemed even amused at this. Maybe he underestimated you.

Soon enough, you got into a conversation, petted Titus gently, becoming even more fund of this big animal.

Bruce sat down beside you on the bench and kept talking to you, thinking you have a charming and kind personality. He'd be damned soon enough, he knows it.

That's how he started flirting with you; it started with subtle compliments until he couldn't help himself anymore. His nice words became progressively more direct, but still respectful as ever. All in all, he was sure he already got your heart.

That was until a small kid came up to you with a big smile, hands a bit dirty from the playing in the mud. That small human couldn't be older than five years old. He was confused for a moment as he watched the interaction between the two of you, eventually realising that is your kid.

God, he felt guilty. You were probably happily married with someone way better than him and just kept up with his flirting so you wouldn't come off as rude. Once the child went back to playing with the other group of kids on the playground, he tried his best to keep his embarrassment aside.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you had a kid. Well... I have four of my own, so..." He really doesn't know what to say. But you still remain kind and sweet, even though he was shamelessly flirting wtih you a second ago.

With a kind smile, you wave him off; "Oh, don't you worry. It was nice talking to you anyway. And you have kids of your own? How old are they?"

And that's how he continued talking to you, getting back to good terms and his embarrassment long forgotten. Seems like you both do have more in common than it seemed. Bruce couldn't be more happy than to keep talking to you and spend time, but you eventually parted ways after a longer while, with each other's phone numbers exchanged.

DICK GRAYSON

He was out with Damian to get ice cream when he saw you in the line, hoping he can get some quick excuse to talk with you alone. Yeah, Damian will annoy him for days about it and tell on him, but who cares? That's a one chance oppurtunity he's got there and he will use it.

Dick got Damian away by getting him into a cool book and supply store nearby, making his own way to you.

He didn't want to come off as too desperate or obvious, 'accidently' cutting you in line so he can strike a conversation with you in that way. You responded kindly to his small accident, waving him off politely.

The conversation started with him introducing himself shortly after, getting to know the basics about each other before he starts basically showering you with compliments. But he was trying to come off as subtle and charming as possible, which came naturally for him.

His light-hearted jokes and loving words seemed to work on you, so he didn't mind keeping this up while getting to know you more. Now with ice cream cones in your hands, you settled onto a table inside the cool shop and continued talking.

You got into more conversation once you sat down together and enjoyed the ice cream together, getting to know the other a little more once he stopped overflowing you with compliments.

But he got a bit confused when you got up to get another portion of ice cream, in a small cup with a sweet waffle in it. Curiously, he just had to ask you about it.

"Another ice cream?" It was more of a mutter to himself, but you still heard it when you sat down across from him again. "Oh, just for my son. He's playing there right now, but he told me to get him some ice cream aswell." You gesture towards the playground next to the ice cream shop, making him search for a small kid that could be yours.

Why didn't he notice earlier? It was so obvious now that he knows, why would someone get ice cream next to a playground anyway? He really tries to not think too much of it and get back on track, but he also didn't want to get into such a situation at all. But of course nothing ever goes his way.

Damian is next to him out of nowhere, asking him to go home. He probably got some books from that store he was just now, judging by the plastic bag in his hand.

"Is that your kid? You guys have the same nose. Cute." You smile sweetly at them, completely unaware of them being brothers. Dick shoots a pleading look to Damian, hoping he'll play along.

"Uh, yeah... that's Damian." Dick chuckles nervously and gets up from the chair, putting his hand on his shoulder. Damian looks more awkward than before, keeping his glare on you.

With the final excuse of Damian being tired, he gets out of the shop and hurries home, ignoring all the questions and annoyed remarks from Damian. He knows he probably should've been more careful, but now he just feels guilty for leaving so quickly and lying.

Eventually, he thought more about the situation. A kid doesn't sound so bad after all. So, without wasting any more time he made his way to the shop again, hoping you'll be there again, even when a few days have passed already.

JASON TODD

In all honesty, he wasn't fond of kids at the start. But it quickly changed when he was patrolling as Red Hood and just had to protect the kids in Crime Alley and at the area where he grew up in.

He met you in the local library, having spotted you at the romance section and he really didn't want to disturb you searching for a book at the moment.

He eventually got his courage and walked to the same section, trying to not come off as intimidating. It didn't work, you almost immediately got to the section next to it to search for... 'children books'? Whatever, he doesn't judge.

Jason tries to ignore you as he searches a book for himself, keeping his eyes on the shelf.

Days have passed and he spots you in the same section more often. It was interesting to him, how you just appeared there out of nowhere a few days back and now he wants to get to know you. Something like this never happened before, maybe he should just ignore it as well.

Finally, he got his courage up and decided to talk to you. With a book of his own in hand, he gets up to you, hoping he won't scare you away or become awkward all of a sudden in front of you.

He asks you about what books you recommend to him in the romance section and he is actually surprised to see how kindly you respond to him. But ignoring the small surprise, he just listens and nods along. Phrases as, "Oh, really? Yeah, I've also heard that one's good.", or "I've read that actually...", and a lot of "Okay, I'll keep that in mind."

He was really sweet to you as well, actually hoping you'll see him here more often whenever you visit the library for more books to read for your kid. And of course, Jason made sure to visit the place more often just to see you and read the books you recommended to him.

Eventually, he got to ask you out for a coffee date. But you declined, explaining you can't leave you kid alone for a longer time and apologise sincerely to him over and over again.

A kid? He was speechless for a moment before his heartbeat speeds up again. What the hell should he do? Is he even allowed to ask you out? After a brief explanation of your situation with your child, he relaxes and feels more hopeful again. In reality, he wants to keep seeing you and meet the kid. He's been told he is good with them after all.

And the day came when you introduced Jason to your daughter. It was a peaceful evening spent at your apartment with you three spending time together with some board games. Your daughter soon grew on him and she was actually more than sad when he had to leave for the night.

So, basically it's hard to tell who Jason is more fond of. Of course he adores you for who you are but your kid is just another ray of sunshine.

TIM DRAKE

Tim rarely got out for his own enjoyment but he is glad he did so that one time, because now he has someone to crush on. As stupid as it sounds, it's also true.

When he first saw you, he didn't think much about it. Just a regular person who also likes comics and other 'nerdy' stuff. But when he saw you reach for the same comic he actually wanted for a longer while, that's when he had to go up to you and talk. Not that he'd do that to every other person, but it seemeed like a good idea at the time.

You were so sweet to him, you even offered to let him have it, but he quickly declined and instead settled on a casual date to show you his collection. But there was this problem...

After a week of texting together and even sharing a few flirty comments, he was sure this could work out. Until you mentioned your son.

At first, he thought you might be joking, but he soon found out that you were honest and he tried to not come off as a total douche since he has no idea about kids.

You both settled on just going for walks for now and you even went with your sweet little kid together. Tim was unsure of the situation and made sure to set boundaries and find out if you even want to keep seeing each other. Of course, for once, whatever God there is, listened to him.

He got more comfortable around your son and found out that most comics are for him. A six-year-old reading comics about aliens and complex alien-politics? Well... he wasn't better at his age.

Soon, they both became really good friends and even better friends with you. Although he was still hesitant to make a move on you.

Either way, he is also happy with just helping you out and being close friends, even when the kid manages to impress him with his immense knoweledge about comics.

←MASTERLIST

[neocrias]

making out with NCT Dream

warnings: slightly suggestive; some of the stories may be longer than others (we got a bit carried away lol sorry); reader insert; gn reader (mostly)

pairings: dream and reader

gender/aus: fluff; established relationships (or not); casual fling;

other units: 127 II wayv

Mark

You had enough of clubbing. You didn't even know why you had come in the first place. While all your friends already had a date and were dancing happily on the dance floor, you were waiting anxiously on the bar stool with a brightly colored drink in your hand that you sipped from time to time. Was it too stupid to want a fairytale prince to show up and save you from the situation you'd gotten yourself into?

— Do you always come here? — The line startled you, and you turned your stool to the side, ready to roll your eyes at whoever had the nerve to throw that old, lousy line at you. However, you're surprised when it's followed by an adorable giggle and the big shiny black eyes that stare at you when you turn to see the boy. — I'm sorry, I know that was terrible. 

He was beautiful. His insecure smile and low posture revealed that he seemed a little nervous about the interaction - and you found that adorable. He seemed completely harmless.

The boy introduced himself as Mark, and you also introduced yourself to him. He went on to ask a few simple questions, such as “did you come with your friends?” or “do you like the place?”, which didn't spark much of a conversation, but were enough to keep you talking. He shared some information about himself, and you began to notice that with each question he asked, Mark leaned a little closer to you. This made you think that perhaps he wasn't as innocent as you had thought, even if his posture still indicated a certain shyness.

This didn't disappoint you, however, since ever since you had caught sight of Mark's sparkling eyes and trembling lips, you knew you wanted to kiss him. And, after buying you a drink and continuing the gentle but warm conversation, you noticed that even with the close proximity between your body and Mark's, he seemed to have no intention of advancing on you in the way you wanted. Even with his lapses of confidence, leaning his arms lightly on the bar counter, or staring into your eyes without looking away with a look of admiration while you said trivial things, he gave no indication that he was going to go any further without your total acquiescence.

That's why, realizing how much Mark seemed to be asking for that kiss, you leaned in at the rare moment when he stopped talking and closed your eyes, moving closer. 

Even though he was shy, Mark understood what it meant - even too quickly - and was firm in holding the back of your neck and returning the kiss, slowly and almost torturously at first, only to become stronger and faster towards the end. Mark's free hand on the counter reached for yours and rested on top of it, giving it a gentle squeeze. Your heart almost exploded with the tenderness of the newly met boy at that moment, and you felt that this would be just the first of countless kisses between you and Mark. 

Renjun

You were lying on the sofa, trying to finish one of the countless novels you'd ordered a month earlier while Renjun was painting for what seemed like hours. You actually wanted to spend this time with your boyfriend, but he hadn't been able to take a moment to do what he likes for so long that you didn't want to interrupt him, so you just waited.

However, the waiting became more and more difficult as the hours passed and he didn't finish, and you couldn't even read the book in your anxiety. Tired of waiting, you got up from the sofa, leaving the book behind, and walked over to your boyfriend who was sitting at the table.

You hugged him around the shoulders, putting your face in the crook of his neck and giving him several kisses that made him laugh with happiness. Renjun gently released the brush so as not to dirty the drawing and leaned his face back and wrapped his arms around your neck, keeping you in that position. You took advantage of this and left a chaste kiss on his lips, making him smile even more.

Suddenly he closed his eyes and frowned in confusion before asking: — Mary Jane, is that you?

— Oh, you're so funny! — You replied ironically. — You finished?

Renjun turned to face you, putting the painting aside. — I'm neglecting you, aren't I? — He asked with a sad smile. 

— No! — You were quick to deny it. — I just missed you.

He stood up, still holding each side of your hips, then brought one of his hands up to your face to push your bangs out of your face. Slowly, he brought their faces closer, brushing the tip of his nose against yours, before finally bringing their lips together in a tender, romantic kiss. Renjun has a way of making you feel loved.

— What do you want to do? — He asked.

— You can finish your drawing, Junnie, no problem.

— I'd rather kiss my beautiful girlfriend a lot more.

To disguise your happy smile, you bit your lower lip, wrapped your arms around his shoulders and ran your fingers through his soft brown hair. You kissed once more, deeply, and you felt him take small steps forward, leading you both towards the sofa.

Jeno

You don't know how you got into this delicate situation and you don't know how you're going to get out of it without revealing your feelings. Jeno has been your best friend since you were four years old, you two practically grew up together, went to the same schools, had the same friends, liked the same things. With such closeness, it's no surprise that you fell in love with him. Jeno is beautiful, after all.

To disguise the fact that you were completely obsessed with him, you tended to be a little thicker than you would have liked, always cracking some stupid joke to pick on him. Sometimes you decided to take it to a more physical level, putting your foot in front of him to make him trip, or squeezing the water bottle to splash him in the face when he drank.

Jeno always returned the pranks. You understood each other like that. The problem was that I miscalculated all the negative endings that “play fighting” could lead to.

Jeno is strong, much stronger than you, thanks to the gym addiction he developed during his teenage years. It would be easy for him to knock you down or hurt you even if he didn't mean to, which is why he refused, but you kept pushing and provoking him until Jeno gave in.

Now the sight of the muscles tensing around you made you nervous. Jeno noticed your heavy eyes, he also noticed the little bites on your lips every time he pulled you slightly tighter. Your reactions were a confirmation of what he had suspected for some time and a relief for the conflicting feelings he felt.

Jeno has had a crush on you for a while and used to get jealous every time a guy hit on you. Fortunately, he was able to disguise his own feelings behind a facade of protection, when in reality he wanted to be the one to have you.

You tried to knock him down, but that only made Jeno's grip around your forearm increase, he pulled you closer then grabbed one of your legs knocking you to the ground. You let out a gasp of surprise, still half out of breath he knelt over you, one leg on either side of your hip, as you tried to push him off he grabbed both your arms, pinning them against the floor. Your eyes were wide open, your lips parted, you were breathing heavily and Jeno just wanted to kiss you until you were panting harder.

So he did.

He kissed you with a ferocity that made you let out a low moan of fright and relief, returning the kiss as if you depended on his lips to live. You wiggled your fingers, wishing you had something to hold on to, but Jeno didn't let go, not even when he moved his kisses down to your neck and shoulder. You were already confused and out of breath, but you weren't going to stop him.

Haechan

Haechan is a teasing little pest, always having fun with your annoyance and when you make out it's no different. You don't know why you're still with him, but you have even less reason to stop.

This was the third time he'd approached you only to pull away when you tried to kiss him and it was wearing on your patience. You rolled your eyes and regretted following the boy to the empty balcony, leaving your euphoric friends playing Just Dance behind - at least there you'd only be bored and not completely annoyed by the boy in front of you.

— Oh — He cooed at you — poor kitty wanna kiss me so bad, don't you?

— Asshole! — You replied.

Haechan laughed out loud, throwing his head back as he wrapped his arms around your hips so that you wouldn't run away. — Don't be like that, pretty.

You turned your face away, not wanting to look at him and Haechan pouted, even though he knew you wouldn't see. It was really fun to annoy you, but now he had to think of a way to get you to stop being angry with him.

— You look beautiful when you're angry, you know that? — He asked. He held your chin, turning your face towards him, but you looked away. “Sulky”, he thought. — Hm? — he insisted once more, giving you several kisses in a row and a few more kisses on the cheek.

— You're ridiculous, you know that? — You snapped back, trying to stay nervous, but you couldn't stay angry with him for long. I guess that explains why you've been together for so long.

— You love it!

— Do I? — you asked and he arched an eyebrow as if daring you to lie to him. — Maybe I do.

Haechan smiled and finally kissed you. A real kiss, with tenderness and desire mixed just right. His hand is still holding your face, holding you in place so that you wouldn't escape.

Wanting to provoke him back, you bit his lower lip as soon as he started to pull away and pulled his hair back tightly. Haechan laughed out loud at your audacity and stared at you with heavy eyes. He pushed his tongue against the inside of your cheek and pulled your hair harder, making your head go back and you let go of his hair in surprise. 

— Why aren't you my girlfriend anyway?

— You never asked.

— Do you want to be my girlfriend? — Haechan asked instinctively, as if he'd been waiting for this opportunity for ages.

— I'll think about it.

You joked, but the teasing smile on your lips said everything Haechan needed to know. You were his, just as he was yours.

Jaemin

You regretted coming to this party the moment you got in the Uber, but you'd already spent too much money on the costume to stay at home now. That explains why you're looking for an empty place to hide from the mess of sweaty bodies crammed into the small living room.

— Why are you alone in this corner? Not enjoying the party? — A sweet voice interrupted your regret session, and you turned around to face a boy with a gentle smile and kind eyes.

You knew him well, Na Jaemin, the popular guy in your calculus class. Always giving nice smiles to classmates, teachers, janitors, always getting the best grades, doing the best in extracurricular activities - it's no surprise that he's so popular. What is a surprise is that he noticed you at all.

— Oh, I'm not very good at parties — You replied and automatically wanted to beat herself up for sounding so weird. He'd certainly stay away from you now.

— Poor little thing can't get along? — Jaemin cooed at you, finding your clumsiness funny.

You didn't realize Jaemin's real intentions and that made it all the more interesting for him, who was amused by your naivety. In his eyes you were such a pretty, shy, perfect little thing for him to destroy. In contrast, all you could think about was how nice he was to talk to you and hang out with you when he could have been enjoying the party.

Although amusing, Jaemin was getting tired of you not understanding the hints he was giving you, making it clear that he wanted to kiss you. Then, without you realizing it, he led you down the hallway to the bedrooms, where the guests had been warned not to enter - Jaemin didn't have to worry about being the master of the house.

Then he got closer, one step closer to you every minute. “Silly girl”, he thought as he noticed you walking backwards to create distance between the two of you, not understanding what he wanted. Impatiently, Jaemin circled his arm around your waist, pulling you against him.

He smiled mischievously when he saw your wide eyes and pressed your lips together. Your knee buckled with the hunger with which he kissed you and your eyes closed enjoying the moment, your hands instinctively going up to his shoulders and squeezing hard.

You sighed when he pushed you - gently - against the wall, your free arm supporting the weight of his body as he sprinkled your face, neck and lap with quick kisses and you sank your painted nails into the back of his neck.

Chenle Jeno, your best friend, invited you to watch his basketball game with the boys because that day there was going to be a get-together at the house of Chenle, one of Jeno's friends, after the game.

You hadn't met Chenle before, in fact, you'd only talked to Jaemin and Jisung for a short time before, so you were feeling overwhelmed by the idea of going to a party at the house of a guy you didn't know - but it was because Jeno asked you to.

In the end, it was pretty smooth, the boys were nice, especially Chenle.

He was charismatic, handsome and polite and you didn't avoid watching him during the match. You felt more attracted to him with every basket he made but, despite noticing the quick glances Chenle gave you, you didn't have the courage to approach him.

But he wasn't going to leave it at that, after all, he thought you were pretty the second he laid eyes on you and, after making sure that you and Jeno were nothing but good friends, he made his move.

— Nice of you to come — He said, taking a seat next to you on the wooden deck of the pool and offering you one of the glasses he was holding.  — Did you enjoy the game?

You agreed with a simple “uh huh” as you tasted the drink, it was vodka with energy drink, far from your favorite but fortunately he made sure it wasn't too strong. — You nailed it! — You complimented, turning her face towards him with a restrained smile.

— Yeah? — Chenle asked with a cocky smile, his eyes twinkling mischievously. He tilted his head slightly to one side before saying. — Good, because I decided that all my baskets would be for you as soon as I saw you arrive.

He smirked as soon as he saw you blink repeatedly and look away in embarrassment. He held your chin between his forefinger and thumb, turning your face back to his with a mischievous grin. Chenle noticed the way your eyes drifted down to his mouth, he noticed the way you nervously clamped your lower lip between your teeth, he really wanted to kiss you right then.

He brushed his thumb against your lip, making you release it, and leaned in, kissing you the way he wanted to. Chenle sneaked his hand down to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers in your hair and pulling them slightly, making your head tilt in the direction he wanted.

Finally, Chenle bit his lip as soon as the kiss ended, but remained with his forehead pressed together and his eyes closed until you were forced apart by the incessant shouting and joking of the friends who had come to take you back to the party.

Jisung

Jisung is a shy boy. In the few classes you attend together, he keeps quiet most of the time, when he's not sleeping at the back of the room. Anyone would think he was just a weirdo, but you know better, his silly, clumsy ways were just the surface of what he was really like - Jisung could be quite silly when he wanted to be.

You should be in your classical literature class right now, but Jisung managed to convince you to skip it, just like all the others. Honestly, you don't know if you're going to be able to pass this class with the amount of absences you've collected because of the upperclassman, but that's okay... Jisung always makes it worthwhile.

He was leaning against the red brick wall, his knees slightly bent to be closer to your height and his legs slightly open so that you could stand between them. Jisung was also holding your hand, playing with the delicate ring on your ring finger, amused at how small your hand was compared to his.

He smirked as he pulled you closer, making you stumble with the sudden movement and, to avoid falling on top of him, you rested your free hand against his shoulder.

— Have I mentioned how pretty you look in red? — He joked in a condescending voice, knowing full well what he was doing.

You rolled your eyes before answering: — You've been more creative, Jisung.

— Can't I compliment my girl anymore? 

— What do you want in return? — You replied without believing the lack of ulterior motives behind the boy's compliments.

— A kiss is enough — he smiled and pushed the tip of his tongue against your cheek before continuing — in thanks.

 You rolled your eyes again, but you wanted it as much as he did, so you let him press your body against his and press your lips together in a deep, slow kiss. Jisung's hands were around your hips, which kept your bodies glued together, sneaking up under the hem of your red T-shirt, leaving an icy trail that chilled your heated skin.

When he reached the curve of your waist, he gently scratched your skin, just to feel you shiver - he made a mental note to thank Chenle for this tip later - and in retaliation you tugged at the brown strands at the back of his neck. Jisung sighed, but that wasn't enough. He brought his hands up again, covering the cup of your bra with his big palms and gave it a shallow squeeze. In shock, you pushed yourself back, away from him - for your own safety and sanity.

— Just a kiss, huh? As if! — You complained, making the boy laugh.

— As if you didn't like it.

[rosenclaws]

Different Side of the Track || 50's Greaser!Logan smut

summary: All your life your parents had created the perfect image of their daughter that you were forced to fit into but when you went off to college and came back with a degree they were nothing but ashamed. Claimed that it wasn't a ladies place to be educated like that. So why not ruin their good family image even more and sleep with the older hot and mysterious man with a motorcycle.

warnings: MINORS DNI, SMUT, fem!reader, breast play, doggy style, rough sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, borderline abusive family, sexism, harassment from a group of assholes, violent Logan.

wc: 4.6k

halloween masterlist || join my discord!

a/n: It's my birthday! So to celebrate I wrote this fic because I couldn't get the idea out of my head and god he's hot. Also I didn't really try to do proper 50's talk because I'm lazy and I cannot handle all the research jaldfk;s. This ended up a little angstier than normal, as my fics usually do lol. The ending isn't my favorite but I tried im sorry asdfjkl. Okay anyways I really hope you like it!

You truly hated this town. College was a breath of fresh air and while it wasn’t always easy, it was better than home. You got your degree, proudest day of your life. Even if your parents didn’t show up. Even if you had to smile in the picture by yourself, watching everyone else celebrate with their families. Your parents never understood your want to go to college.

You thought they’d be proud but if anything they were ashamed. They think that a woman pursuing higher education was unladylike. That a woman's place was to stay at home and take care of the kids. They were embarrassed of you, refused to acknowledge any of your achievements.

You wished you could have stayed in your college town but then you got the letter. Your grandmother had passed and you needed to come home. You were heartbroken. Your grandmother was the only one to support you, and helped you when you worked countless hours at the diner to pay for it. She celebrated when the acceptance letter came in and she gave you the biggest hug when you left.

Coming home was a no-brainer, needing to be here for her funeral but now you’re stuck at home with your parents and life is miserable. You were counting down the days until you could get out of here again. You spent as much time as you could out of the house.

Going to work, dreaming of another life. Doing literally anything you could to stay out and away from your parents. That’s how you found yourself here. Taking midnight shifts at the diner to stare at the man sitting at the counter.

Logan. It was sewed onto the patch on his jumpsuit. You don’t even know his last name but you do know that you want to know everything about him. He worked at the mechanic shop right across the street. He was dark, brooding, mysterious. He didn’t talk to anyone. Just ordered one black coffee and sat there with the paper. This was a small town and you had never seen or heard of him before.

“You’ll catch flies if you don’t shut your mouth there pumpkin.” You feel a hand on your jaw and you swat it away. Betty, your coworker was grinning like a madwoman. She was a sweet old lady who has worked at this diner for longer than you’ve been alive.

“Oh hush.” You look down at your order sheet. Sketches of your patrons fill the empty sheets. Mostly drawings of Logan.

“I don’t blame you sweetheart, he’s a dreamboat if I’ve ever seen one.” She sighs dreamily as she looks at him.

“Who is he?”

“Not sure, rolled into town one day. Plenty of rumors, though, say that he was an army guy. Some say that he’s running from the law.” You gasp at the idea.

He couldn’t be a convict could he? You’d never met anyone like that. Though, you feel yourself grow curious instead of fearful. Your whole life you lived in the perfect world. Perfect family with a lot of money and a perfect reputation to uphold. You got the perfect grades, had the perfect friends and still your life felt anything but perfect. You craved something more, needed it. You couldn’t live the rest of your life as someone's housewife. That wasn’t your dream.

“Looks like he needs a refill..” Betty nudges your arm and pushes you forward. You eye the apple pie sitting in the case and steal a slice. No better way to get a man to talk than give him pie right? Clearing your throat you head over and put on a smile.

“Hi Logan.” He looks up from the paper with his usual stony face. A beat passes and he doesn’t speak.

“This is for you, on the house.” You place the pie down in front of him. You shift nervously in your spot as you pour coffee into his cup. He’s never told you his name, does he think you’re a freak or something?

“It’s on your uniform, you know. Your name.” You wince at how horribly awkward this feels. He looks down.

“That supposed to be me?” He grunts out. You tilt your head in confusion before following his gaze. Your guest checks with drawings all over them. Drawings of Logan. You slam your hands down and stuff them in your pocket.

“No! I mean, yes but it’s nothing. Just drawings I. I’m sorry.” Logan just looks at you and you walk off in shame.

Mentally kicking yourself as you sulk back to the kitchen. Betty takes over serving him as you silently wait on the remaining people. By the time your shift is over your back aches and you’re still replaying that moment in your head.

“See you tomorrow Betty!” You say as you put on your coat.

“Hold on dear, this is for you.” She hands you a napkin and winks. Confused, you open it up to see messy handwriting. 

Thanks for the pie doll

-Logan

Logan has come by every night since then. Ordering one black coffee and you sneak him whatever pie is left. Sometimes it’s apple, other days it’s pecan. Today’s pie is pumpkin. Just in time for the fall season. He’s still a man of few words but he’s always polite. Pays and says thank you with that handsome voice of his. You’ve gathered some information on him. Mostly from the town gossip.

The group of boys, greasers who would often come by and cause a ruckus, idolized him. He drove a motorcycle, fixed cars, and smoked like there was no tomorrow. In some weird way he’s become their parental figure. Not that he really gave a shit but he worked with them at the shop and he took care of them when he needed to. He strolled in again today. This time he looks at you and throws you a wink. It’s a little routine the two of you have now. Not much talking but it’s nice. You think you’ll be able to get him to open up soon enough.

“Thanks doll.” Logan says as he sits on the worn stool. You hand him his coffee and pie, already prepared just the way he likes it.

“So, do I get to know your last name yet?” He smirks and takes a sip of his coffee.

“How about you fetch me a napkin first. Then I’ll think about it.” You roll your eyes playfully and he smiles. The door jingles and you hear the sound of obnoxious laughing. You look up to see the jerkiest looking boys you’ve ever seen. They wore letterman jackets that seemed too small and talked too loud.

One of the boys, a blonde guy who seemed vaguely familiar whistles at you. You hold back a scoff as you walk over to their table. They’re looking you up and down with a gaze that makes you shiver. Absolute jerks.

“Hey sweetheart, why don’t you be a good girl and get us some milkshakes.” You clench your jaw as you jot down their order.

It dawns on you that you know exactly who that guy is. David Scott. He was in your high school class. Quarterback, the popular guy every girl in school wanted, and the worst human being you’ve ever met. He was nothing but a no good bully. It seems fitting he’s never truly moved on from this town as he was dumber than a bag of rocks. Logan catches your eyes as you head back to the counter. Preparing their order and trying to tune out their annoyingly loud voices. Before you head back with their order you top off Logan’s coffee.

“You know drinking this much caffeine can’t be good for you.” You say.

“And yet you’re still serving me.” He shoots back. You shrug your shoulders and smile, he’s got you there.

“Hey! You done serving grandpa over there.” Logan growls and his grip tightens on his cup.

“Ignore them, they’re nothing but a bunch of idiots.” You say under your breath. You bring the tray of drink over and set them down.

“Anything else?” You ask through gritted teeth.

“Nope.” David whispers something to his friend before moving his hand and spilling his shake all over you and the floor. His friends burst out laughing and you bend down to clean up the mess. Counting down the seconds until they leave. You’re too focused on cleaning to hear David whisper to his friend.

“Watch this.” You hear the stool fall and suddenly you’re pushed to the ground.

“Get off me!” You turn around and see Logan holding David by the collar of his shirt. Teeth bared and a dangerous look in his eyes.

“Logan!” You scramble to your feet as he shoves David into the booth.

“Think you’re funny bub? You’re lucky she’s here or I’d beat you to a pulp.” He growls, eyeing his friends who are now cowering in fear. You stand stunned as Logan seems to command the room.

“I’ll give you ten seconds to scram or I’ll make good on my promise.” He rolls up the sleeves of his jumpsuit and grins. You’ve never seen a group of boys in so much panic.

“And don’t forget to pay.” Logan says with a smirk. They throw down more than enough money and bolt out the door.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to do that.” You say softly as Logan seems to calm down.

“Fuckin’ idiots.” He shakes his head and gently pushes you away from the mess.

“Broken glass doll, gotta be careful.” Silently the two of you clean up the mess, him scooping up the glass and you cleaning the table.

You watch carefully as he handles the glass, watching to make sure he doesn’t cut himself. You see a piece of glass slice his hand and you hurry to the back to get a band aid. However when you come back the cut is gone, maybe it was just strawberry? The clock strikes 4am and the new waitress comes through the door, relieving you of your duties. He waits for you to clock out and walks you out the door.

“Thank you again Logan.” He just shrugs and lights a cigarette.

“Let me walk you home.” He offers and you accept. The walk is silent as you head to your home. You eye his cigarette and he notices. He holds it out to you and you take it. Taking a puff and immediately coughing it back up. Logan chuckles as he takes it back.

“Never smoked before?” You shake your head and he just smiles. Figures.

You’re much too sweet to have done anything bad. Just looking at the houses around him he knows that you’re as high society as they come. When you reach your house Logan stands on the sidewalk, watching as you walk up the driveway. You look at your door and then turn around to hurry back to Logan. Leaning in you kiss his cheek and he almost drops his cigarette.

“Bye Logan.” You bite your lip as you slowly walk back. As you walk through the door you hear him call to you.

“Howlett, my last name is Howlett.” 

Your sweet night with Logan turned sour the minute you woke up. Your parents were down at the breakfast table. Scowling with disappointed looks on their face. Oh great what else is new.

“You need to quit.” Your dad says and you laugh.

“What?”

“Do you know how embarrassing it is for us to tell people you’re working at a diner? You come home smelling like smoke? It’s insulting the family!” Your mother hisses and you feel tears well up in your eyes. You knew they were cruel but to hear those words from your own mother. It hurt.

“I am an adult, I don’t have to listen to you anymore.”

“As long as you’re living here you do. Now go down and tell them or I will.” Your father stands and stares you down. You feel so fucking helpless. It’s true. You’re stuck here and the money you’ve saved up isn’t enough to get out of here just yet.

You storm out of the house, letting the tears fall once you’re out of their view. The walk to the diner is miserable. You don’t want to quit, you like your job. Tears fall as you tell your manager, apologizing and leaving with your tail tucked between your legs. You hated this. You longed to be free and now you’re trapped at home.

Sitting on a bench outside of the diner you let yourself cry. Not wanting your parents to see any sign of weakness from you.

“Hey, everything okay doll?” You look up and see a blurry Logan from your watery eyes. He’s got grease and oil on his face and suit. Wiping his hands with a rag.  You shake your head and Logan sits next to you.

“My parents made me quit.” He scoffs in disbelief.

Oh Logan knows all about your father. He wasn’t sure until last night but once he saw your house he knew exactly who your family was. Flaunting their money and status to spit on those lower than them. He serviced your fathers car a few times. Adding pointless upgrades. On the bright side he charges him double and your father doesn’t even bat an eye.

“That’s bullshit.” Logan says angrily. You’ve told him about your life. How disrespectful your parents are. How stupid they can be, anyone should be proud of their daughter getting a degree but they think it’s shameful. You’re smart, pretty, a real perfect girl.

“I don’t know what to do.” You say in such a defeated tone.

“You can always spend time at my work, don’t know if it’s the kind of place you’re used to hanging around but-” He gets cut off as you lunge at him. Hugging him tightly as you seek comfort in his arms. He freezes but slowly places his arms around you. Your perfectly crisp and clean dress was now dirty by his hands but you don’t care.

“I owe you so much Logan, you’ve been a real life saver.” You don’t want to let go. He’s toned, even with the jumpsuit over him. He’s strong and his arms are so warm and welcoming.

“Don’t worry about it doll, can’t stand to see a pretty girl like you so upset.” You lean up and kiss his cheek again. He grins as you scoot closer to him. Suddenly he pushes you back. You’re confused until you see your father pulling up next to the diner. Oh god did he see anything?

“You quit?” He asks, glaring at the dirt on your dress.

“Yes. I quit.” You say unhappily but he doesn’t care. He shifts his eyes to Logan.

“What happened there?” He says accusingly, you know your father wouldn’t hesitate to threaten Logan despite Logan being much stronger. It’s the egotistical nature of him.

“She fell, I caught her.” Logan lies so easily. Your father hums and drops it to your relief.

“I need you to look at my car tomorrow, something’s wrong with the brakes.”

“Got it.” Logan says casually and you can see your father roll his eyes. He drives off leaving the two of you on the bench.

“Say, why don’t you come by with your father tomorrow. I’d be happy to show you a few things” Logan offers, a flirty tone to his voice.

He walks off before you can respond, needing to get back to work. You throw the idea around in your head as you head back home. There’s no denying that Logan is hot. Really hot. He’s everything your parents hate. Lower class, older, doesn’t care about their status. It would drive them insane if you started to hang around a guy like him.

Though you don’t want to just use him to get back at your parents. You really do like him. It’s a win win in your head. Smiling to yourself you already start to pick out your outfit for tomorrow.

Ready to cause a little chaos. 

Your father didn’t understand why you wanted to come with him but you gave him so stupid excuse and he bought it. Your father pulled the car in and threw the keys at Logan. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes but Logan does it for you. Despite Logan being much more knowledgeable about cars, your father still talks down to him. It’s rude and classist and you hate it.

“I’d like to stay, you know, make sure nothing goes wrong.” Your father scoffs but leaves you be.

“He’s real lucky I don’t punch his lights out.” Logan mutters as he pops the hood of his car.

“I’m really sorry, you don’t deserve that.” Logan shrugs. He’s used to it by this point.

“Don’t worry your pretty head about me.” He leans over and kisses your cheek.

He wipes off a seat for you to sit on and you watch him work. There’s something about the way he moves that’s just…attractive. His muscles strain in his jumpsuit, sweat drips down his face. And the noises, god the noises. The grunts when he moves something heavy. Then he does the unthinkable. He unzips his jumpsuit, taking off the top half and tying it around his waist. Leaving him in just a white tank top.

Now you really have a show. You don’t know how much time has passed and you don’t care. Slowly the garage empties as people head to lunch until it’s just you and Logan. Logan can feel your eyes on him. In fact he loves it. Your cute face is staring at him like a piece of meat. He can see you shift on the leather stool. He can smell how bad you want him. It’s desperate, almost pathetic how badly you want him. He stands up, making sure to flex his arms as he sets down the wrench. 

“You alright doll, you look a little hot?” Logan feigns concern as he steps closer to you. Placing his hands on the workshop table. Caging you in.

“I’m okay.” You eye his chest shamelessly, eyes traveling down to the bulge in his suit.

“Yeah? I don’t know…” He slowly takes your sweater off. Leaving your arms bare and your cleavage on show for him.

“I’m not sweet doll, not gonna treat you like a good girl.” He growls in your ear and you whimper. Oh you need him bad.

“I’ll break a sweet thing like you, but something tells me you want that.” You grab his face and smash your lips to his. It’s messy and dirty, teeth knocking against each other as you fight for dominance. Logan slips his hands under your dress, lifting you up to the workbench and stepping in between your legs. Your hands are locked in his hair. Tugging hard as he deepens the kiss. He groans into your mouth. His hands rip your dress at the top. You gasp as his lips trail down your neck leaving sloppy wet kisses until he reaches your boobs.

“Fuck.” He squeezes your chest roughly, purring at the feeling of them in his hands.

“So cute.” He says with a wink as he leans down and bites your nipples roughly. He promised he wouldn’t be nice and he meant it. He shamelessly grinds his bulge against your wet panties.

“Dirty girl, letting a no good mechanic touch you like this. What would your daddy say hm?” He taunts as his hands move to slip up your dress. Pulling your panties down and stuffing them in his pocket.

“Who fucking cares?” You spit out as you grind your hips. Soaking his suit with how wet he’s made you.

“Oh, pretty girls got a mouth on her.”

“Just hurry up!” You whine as you slip your hands under his tank top.

Lifting it over his head so you could get the view of his muscular body. He unties his jumpsuit and yanks it down, letting his hard cock free. To your surprise he picks you up and brings you to your dads car.

“Turn around.” He lifts your dress up and bends you over the hood of the car. His hands run across your ass, squeezing and admiring the view as he slowly grinds his cock along it. The tip of his dick slides in and you moan.

“Yeah, feels good doesn’t it doll.” He says cockily as he renders you utterly speechless.

The stretch is unbelievably amazing as he bottoms out. You whine as you feel every vein, every twitch of his cock inside of you. He’s so big. Everything about him is big. His presence, his arms, his cock. He was just big. He barely gives you anytime to adjust before fucking hard into you. Your hands claw for anything to hold onto. The hood of the car is too slippery so Logan just pins your arms behind your back instead.

“Naughty, naughty girl.” Logan huffs as he leans down to bite your ear. His pace is relentless. Pounding the words right out of you.

“Letting me fuck you on your daddies car.” He puff his chest out proudly. He’s tearing you apart on your asshole fathers car. Making you moan his name as he desecrates his car.

“Feels so good Logan. Oh god!” His cock hitting that perfect spot in you every time. Over and over. It’s unrelenting. You involuntarily shift your hips. The pleasure becomes overwhelming.

“Where are you going doll? I’m not done with you yet.” He lets go of your hands and grabs your hips, pulling you back on his cock with a bruising grip.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop.” You beg wildly as you move your hips back to meet his thrusts.

“Not planning on it.” He tilts his head back in pleasure as he pounds into you. He feels you clenching tightly around him. Your legs are quivering under him. There’s grease smudged all over your body, your face.

You catch a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the windshield. You’re completely disheveled, hair a mess. Makeup smeared and clothes torn. You look absolutely filthy and you love it. You can see Logan’s abs flexing as he thrusts his hips. His hands run up your sides. Taking you by the shoulders to slam you back on his cock. A weak cry leaves your throat with every thrust. Finally you break. A desperate, strangled moan as your body quakes. Shaking and rocking you right to your core.

“That’s it doll, I’ve got you.” He leans down and nudges his nose into your neck. Kissing softly as his thrusts slow just for a moment. Letting you breathe. You’ve never felt more happy in your life.

Logan kisses the side of your head as his hips grow sloppy. Chasing his release and savoring the feeling of your tight pussy squeezing him. With a loud groan he pulls out and finishes on your ass. Your eyes close as your body feels like it's melting. You can barely stand. Logan wipes you down with a clean rag, loving how fucked you appear to be. 

“I got you.” He gently picks you up and brings you to a bench. Laying his clean jacket over you as you will your legs to stop shaking.

“You alright?” He’s got a devilish grin on his face as he redresses himself. Somehow it’s like he’s back to normal while you’re wrecked.

“Perfect, oh my god you’re amazing.” You lean back into the bench and sigh happily.

“What the hell is going on here?!” You shoot up and see your father storming towards you angrily. You’re a mess and you don’t think Logan can lie his way out of this one. He’s angry. Really angry.

“You are nothing but a disappointment and you have been ever since you were born! A disgrace to the whole family! To the town! Doing such horrible things with the likes of him.” He snarls as he points at Logan. You’re stunned into silence.

“I have the right mind to never let you out of the house again you ungrateful little-”

Logan steps in front of him and he tries to hit Logan right in the face but fails miserably. You gasp as Logan pushes him against his car. You watch as boney claws shoot from his hands. Your father squirms in fear as the tips of his sharp claws grow closer to his neck.

“Shut the fuck up.” Logan growls.

“You’re a real fucking dick and a sorry excuse for a father. If I ever see you come near her again I’ll fucking kill you.” He lets go of your father and watches as he runs away. Yelling about mutant freaks. Logan turns back to you, a cold look settling on his face when he sees your face. Now you know his secret.

“You’re a mutant.” You say in awe. To his shock you reach out for him instead of running away.

“I am.” You admire the claws, how amazing.

“Beautiful.” His mouth gapes open as you pull him closer.

For once someone is looking at him like he’s normal, like he’s not a freak of nature. He longs for this but he knows your dad won’t go down quietly. He’ll tell the whole town.

“Look doll, you’re too good for this town. You’re too good for me.” He brushes your cheek softly.

“I can’t stay here anymore and you need to go home. Pretend you never met me. You’re a smart girl and you have a bright future ahead of you.” Logan takes his hand away and walks away.

“Logan!” You throw off his jacket, you're limping slightly but you refuse to let him go. He’s quick on his feet, already shedding his work clothes for his normal ones. A leather jacket thrown over his tank top. His motorcycle is out back. He’s got a backpack already packed and ready to go. Like he was waiting for this moment to happen.

“Take me with you!” You stand in front of his bike.

“What?” He asks in disbelief.

“Please, I hate this town. I have money saved. I can help but please don’t leave me.” You move closer to him, taking his hand in yours.

“I can’t live like this anymore, Logan. I’d give it all up to be with you”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“It’s not your choice. It’s mine so please, take me with you.” He wants to say no. To leave you here. It would break your heart and his but it’s what's best. But a part of him wants to be selfish. He could protect you, he could take care of you. But he fears you’d regret it eventually.

He’s overthinking and you can tell. You grab his jacket and kiss him gently. He groans as he slips his arms around you.

“Please.” You beg softly.

“I can’t promise you the life you’re used to.” He warns but his resolve is slipping.

“I don’t care.” He sighs and kisses you again. It’s becoming addicting. You’re completely addicting.

“Hop on doll,” He throws his leg over the bike and waits.

You waste no time jumping on behind him. Wrapping your arms around his waist as he revs his motorcycle. You lean into him and smile. He stops so you could say goodbye to Betty and grab a bag of clothes. He waited at the door, a grin on his face as his claws were proudly shown off to your parents.

Then he drives. Away from your horrible family and the horrible town. Your future is uncertain but with Logan, you’re confident things will work out.

He’s all you need. 

[honnelander]

go fish! finale part 1

here we are... the beginning of the end! crazy to say, even crazier to actually put in a post!! lol here is part 1 of the finale (sorry i'm splitting up the finale into parts but... it's going to be so massive i'd rather put something out there) thank you to everyone who has loved this story, supported it, and supported me. just know that i appreciate it all more than you know, and i hope that this delivers... sorry if i missed anyone who wanted to be tagged :(

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.3k

pairing: opla!sanji x reader

summary: things are finally coming to a crux for Sanji and reader....

prequel part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist

@mischiefmanaged71 @smolracoon25 @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @amanda08319 @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @whiskeypowder @jovialcat123 @xtigerlily @shadowwolf1864 @quixscentsposts @guidingstarsstuff @ateliefloresdaprimavera @chexmixtrys @princettecharlie @amitydoodlez @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @abracarabbit @commanderfreethatdust @lordbugs @sweet-little-nothings @geisterfvhrer @kenkenmaaa @dazaisfavgf @fan-goddess @shadydeanmuffin @cherrypie5 @sauceonmyshorts @hhighkey @gimmebackmyskeeball @he4vens-ang3l @selcouthaesthetics @sapphireonline @dory-98 @redskull199987@teenyforestfairy @acupnoodle@strwberryii @luna0713hunter @tinydonkeysforlife @rand0m--fangirl @stevenknightmarc@asianfrustration13 @simp-sentral @dankchikorita @jollysemroger @gaslysainz @oh-worm-yee-haw @browneyedhufflepuff @randomgurl2326 @witchofremnants @browneyedhufflepuff @gothicuwusposts @alitaar @mylovelyreblogs @witchofremnants @feelinmatcha

@taro-gabi @silkflwr @justalittleweirdsometimes-deact @daydreamer-in-training @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @dark-academia-slut @olliesoxenfree @svnwcn @christinaatyourservice92 @andystweets @ohsilk @raythecomputerart @hyeon-yi @mugiwarasoul19 @atanukileaf @deserticwren @shidoumari-chan @writing-fanics @emmbny @gothsquash @lotus-sukimono @slytherinambitious @moreover-clover @inthemoonway @wonuskie @rebeccawinters @maybe-a-bi-witch @aaubin @queen-of-elves @plastichearts @onebatch--twobatch @callsignwidow @nixtape-foryou @nervousmumbling @basicallyabot @tr4shygrrl @decadenthumanalienranch-blog @lexingtoon @always-anything-but-ordinary @alphaash99 @mossy-mika @nehkookie @spaceface25 @thehighlordishere @certain-tragedies

Sanji was getting desperate.  

The longer he went without telling you he loved you, that he was completely enamored with every part of your entire soul and being, that your existence gave him a reason to live and keep on breathing, the more he felt himself go absolutely insane.  

He felt like a little kid on Christmas morning, sitting in front a mountain of presents but not being able to open them because it ‘wasn’t time to open them yet’, and that’s exactly how he felt with his situation with you: there was nothing more he wanted to do than to tell you he was in love with you, but he knew that it wasn’t the right time just yet. He didn’t want to just flat out say ‘I love you’ while you both were doing some rudimentary task or chore, or offhandedly one night while you both were doing the dishes after supper. He wanted something more than that, something special and extravagant.  

You were the love of his life, and you deserved everything under the sun and more, so he wanted to make this very intimate and private moment between you two as special as he could, and that required some serious planning and patience on his part.  

So, after his conversation with Nami a few days ago, her letting him vent out all of his frustrations and apprehensions he had with her, practicing saying those three special words numerous times so when the moment was right with you, they would just roll off the tongue, and some planning, he was ready to confess his feelings to you. 

But something was wrong.  

You were avoiding him and he had absolutely no idea why. 

At first, he thought he was imagining things, that it was all in his head, but he should’ve known something was up when you didn’t come to dinner the first night. 

Sanji had finished putting the last plate of food on the table, the rest of the crew already sitting down, ready to dig in, when he cast another glance at your empty spot at the table. It was weird, you were always the first one to show up to dinner too, always arriving early to lend him a helping hand or to help set up the table, and you were always the last one to leave, either due to being a slow eater or to help him clean up and do the dishes together. The unofficial dinner time routine you both shared was something he cherished and never took for granted; it was his favorite part of the day because he knew he always got to spend that time with you regardless of the day’s events. 

But that daily routine had been broken. That first night, which was coincidentally on the same day where he had his big talk with Nami, you were missing, and it didn’t sit right with him. 

“Where’s y/n?” He asked aloud to no one in particular, still standing, one hand on the back of his chair and a perplexed look on his face.  

“Oh, she’s not coming,” Luffy said casually as he started eating, like you missing dinner was a normal thing. 

It was, in fact, not normal. Not to Sanji. “What?” he asked, his eyes widening slightly. “Why? Is she ok?” he asked quickly, his mind starting to race at the idea that something was wrong with you. 

“I guess so,” Luffy said, shrugging. “She seemed fine to me.” 

Sanji exhaled a resigning sigh through his nose as he begrudgingly sat down. He didn’t really like Luffy’s answer, since the guy had a habit of missing important social nuances in conversations, but he had no choice. So, he ate his dinner halfheartedly, suddenly losing his appetite.  

After dinner, when he was cleaning up the kitchen solo, he made sure to put together a plate of leftovers for you and placed it in the oven so it would be warm for whenever you were ready to eat. 

But the next morning, when he checked the oven and saw the now overcooked and burnt plate of food still in there, untouched, Sanji felt his chest tighten... and not in a good way. Maybe you didn’t know the food was in there? 

So, when you didn’t show up to dinner on the second night, Sanji followed the same routine as he did the night before, but this time he left a note on the counter with your name on it, detailing instructions on how to reheat the food he had lovingly prepared for you so it wouldn’t burn just in case you were having a midnight meal.  

That following morning, he felt a bit better when he went into the kitchen, figuring that his plan worked, but when he saw his note in the exact same position where he had left it, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. His suspicions were confirmed when he opened the oven door and saw the now cold and ruined plate of leftovers just sitting there again, untouched, he let out a small breath of disbelief.  

He hated wasting food, it was one of his core principles as a person and a chef, but he hated the thought of you not eating even more. 

On the third night of you not showing up to dinner, Sanji had enough. 

“Alright, where is she?” he asked standing before the dinner table holding the main dish of the evening, not moving to put it down, his voice devoted of his usual good humor and pleasant attitude and replaced with a sterner tone, like a parent who’s had enough of their child’s antics and just wanted the truth. “Where’s y/n?” 

Unfortunately, Zoro was the one to speak up. “She’s fine.” 

Sanji scoffed, letting out a humorless, disbelieving breath as he shook his head once. He could barely believe what he was hearing- that you missing dinner more than once was anything but normal. “Oh, really, mosshead? ‘She’s fine’?” He looked back at the swordsman, an edge to his voice, sharp like one of his many kitchen knives, as he asked, “You think her missing dinner for three nights in a row is her ‘being fine’?” 

“Whoa, keep your pants on, waiter,” Zoro bit back. “I’m just telling you what she told me. What’s your problem?” 

“My problem,” the chef started, his voice rising slightly as his mouth twisted into a cynical smile, “is that y/n has missed dinner for three days now, and none of you seem to care.” 

“Hey, that’s not fair, we care!” Usopp said defensively. “But ever since she started writing her book, she’s been so busy-” 

In hearing that, Sanji immediately felt all of his anger and annoyance evaporate, instantly feeling empty, his insides turning into ice. He felt his body go rigid, feeling like he just got kicked in the stomach, the air knocked out of his lungs. A beat passed as he tried his hardest to control his face and contain his emotions. The last thing he wanted was the crew commenting on his body language, he was already dealing with enough. His hands gripped the dish in his hand harder, his knuckles going white. Sanji felt another wave of pain stab itself in his chest. He swallowed thickly, trying to push down his emotions as he slowly asked, “She’s... writing a book?” 

At once, the room became awkward as the rest of the straw hats exchanged looks with each other. It was pretty obvious to everyone that you and Sanji were close to (in love with) each other, so for you not to tell him something as monumental as this was incredibly weird and out of character. 

“Yeah, man...” Usopp answered slowly, shifting in his chair uncomfortably. “She started it a couple of days ago... she didn’t tell you?” he asked tentatively, looking up at the crestfallen cook.  

Sanji felt the knife in his chest twist at Usopp’s question as he looked down at the dinner plate in his hands, pursing his lips momentarily. “Uh... no. No, she, uh...didn’t.” He breathed out a light, dejected laugh, looking back up at the rest of the crew with a small, fake smile, trying to pretend that everything was alright and normal between you two, when it was far from it. “I guess she forgot to tell me.” 

But Zoro was never one to beat around the bush. “Or maybe she’s just avoiding you.” 

Immediately, the room became silent. It was like all the air got sucked out of the room and no one dared to say a thing. 

Well, except for Luffy. “What?” the straw-hat captain started, shaking his head once with a slight disbelieving smile. “What do you mean Zoro?” he asked as he looked to his left at his first mate. “Why would y/n be avoiding Sanji?” 

"Well,” Zoro started, picking up his drink. “It’s pretty obvious that those two are basically joined at the hip,” he said, taking a quick swing of his beer, “so it’s just weird that she wouldn’t tell him something like this.” 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she’s avoiding him exactly,” Nami reasoned on Sanji’s behalf, flashing a sympathetic look towards the chef before looking back at her green-haired crewmate. 

“Exactly,” the cook nearly ground out, an edge to his words as he continued, “you have no idea what you’re talking about mosshead.” 

But Zoro was unconvinced. “Oh yeah?” He turned his attention to Sanji and with a quirked brow asked, “When’s the last time you spoke to her?” When Sanji opened his mouth to reply, Zoro cut him off. “And I mean a real conversation. Something that lasted more than five seconds.” 

Sanji just stood there, closing his mouth as he felt the ice in his veins spread. He swallowed. “Thursday.” 

The swordsman tipped his beer towards him. “And today’s Sunday,” he said in a matter-of-fact way. “That’s three whole days of her avoiding you.” 

“Ok but, why would y/n be avoiding Sanji?” Usopp asked, looking around at his fellow straw hats, his face twisted in confusion. When nearly all of them shrugged, he looked over at Sanji. “Did something happen between you two?” 

The former line cook shrugged, letting out a small breath of frustration and helplessness as he looked down at the full plate in his hands again, a sardonic smile on his face. Since when did his private relationship with you turn into an open aired discussion? “I don’t think that’s any of your business-” 

“Wait,” Zoro spoke up, cutting Sanji off. He looked at Usopp. “They were weird before. Remember that poker game the other day and she blew him off?” 

Immediately, Usopp’s eyes widened in remembrance as he snapped his fingers. “OH yeah! You’re right! Now that was weird.” 

“Now that I’m thinking about it all,” Zoro said, lifting his beer up to his mouth to hide his ghost of a smile. “I think this all started happening after that night at the bar.” 

“Yeahhhh,” Usopp drawled, nodding in agreement with Zoro’s assessment. “I think you’re onto something swordsman.” He rubbed the back of his neck, gaze looking off to the side like he was deep in thought. “I don’t remember much from that night, because you know, Captain Usopp likes to party, but weren’t they going to kiss or something?” 

Nami’s eyes widened as she shot daggers at the sharpshooter. “Usopp!” she hissed. 

But that did nothing to deter or shut this whole conversation down. Instead, Usopp’s brazen comment just fueled the discussion even more like striking a match and dropping into a bunch of dry kindling. 

Sanji felt his body stiffen. He suddenly felt like his soul was disassociating from his body as he watched and heard the crew continue to talk about the most intimate moment of his life in front of him like it was just another successful pirate raid or rescue attempt gone wrong. 

“Yeahhh,” Zoro agreed, nodding slightly as a sly smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I remember that,” he added before taking another swing of his drink. 

“Wait- what? Sanji and y/n kissed?” Luffy asked, his brows knitted together as he looked between his first mate and sharpshooter quizzically.  

“No, they didn’t,” Usopp replied. Suddenly, Usopp sat up, his eyes bright like he had just solved the world’s greatest mystery. “Unless,” he started, waggling a finger at Sanji. “Unless... you guys did kiss, never talked about it, and now it’s like- super weird between you two!” 

“Ah, that makes sense,” Zoro commented. 

“Guys,” Nami warned loudly. “Just drop it. You both have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

But before anyone could say anything else, Sanji slammed dropped the main dish for the evening in the middle of the table unceremoniously, with a lot more force than necessary, immediately silencing the table.  

“No, please continue,” Sanji bitterly encouraged as he straightened up and put his hands in his pockets, eyes trained at the table. “I would love for everyone to just- keep discussing a private relationship that has absolutely nothing to do with them, and to keep putting their two cents in.” When the table kept quiet, Sanji looked up, glancing at each of the members sitting there with eyes full of venom, daring them to say something else, but their eyes looked down or away from him in silent shame. Sanji scoffed. “Oh, what happened? Lost your nerve? Suddenly we’re all silent and have nothing to say?” 

Usopp shifted in his chair slightly as he tentatively looked over at the enraged chef, his voice somber. “Sanji, we didn’t-” 

But Sanji didn’t want to hear it. “Save it,” he spat, effectively silencing Usopp. “Enoy your fucking meal.” He shoved his chair into the table, causing everyone to flinch except for Zoro, rattling everything before making his way towards the deck to have a smoke. “And clean up everything yourselves tonight,” he called out as he pulled out his cigarette tin and lighter. “I’m done.”

[undressrehearsal]

a bite of luxury

summary: you decide to look for a sugar mommy and stumble across this strange girl that seems to have more to hide

tags: sugarmommy!ellie, rich!ellie, vampire!ellie (yep, we got it all) alcohol, reader is poor lmao, reader uses she/her and is referred to as a girl once or twice, no smut in this one sorry gotta establish the world first

word count: ~8k

a/n: it's been so long since i posted a fic lol working full time and trying to finish my book is killing my schedule BUT i hope y'all like this this was my fiancee's idea and i'm running with it i got a LOT of plans for this one - plans i think y'all are gonna love

also the drawing in the cover is made by @nramv seriously go check out their work they're so talented!!

if you wanna be added to my tag list just lmk!

You hadn’t been searching for a sugar mommy. 

Truthfully, when your best friend had sent you the link, you had dismissed it immediately. She had been joking about it for months, talking about how much easier it would be if you just found a nice older woman to take care of you. You hadn’t even opened the link - you only rolled your eyes, replied with a middle finger emoji, and left it at that. 

And yet things kept piling up. The stack of bills on your kitchen counter was growing to a concerning height, a mountain of unanswered responsibilities that was getting harder to ignore. Your landlord kept calling you - you no longer answered, just watched the phone ring until it finally stopped and ignored the increasingly angrier voicemails. Your apartment was an absolute disaster; you could never be bothered to clean it, because by the time you got home from working both of your jobs, you only had enough energy to eat a bowl of leftovers and promptly pass out in bed. 

The link kept popping up in your mind, each bill in your mailbox a gentle reminder. You found yourself scrolling all the way up the text chain to find it again during sleepless nights. So many times you would only stare at it, your thumb hovering over the blue letters, before you closed the chat and threw your phone down. 

It was stupid, of course. But as time went on, the idea of letting yourself get buried alive under a mountain of debt - of getting evicted from your apartment and having to crash on your friend’s couch - seemed all the more stupid. 

So, late on a Thursday night, after you had had another anxiety attack staring down at your bank account, you went back up the text chain, and you clicked the link. 

www.seeking.com

It didn't take long for the messages to start coming in. You should have been flattered, honestly - you had at least a handful of people in your messages practically begging you for the honor of paying your fucking rent - but you really just felt like you were playing a part that you hadn't even read the script for. You had curated your profile with all the things that made you appear more cultured than you actually were: going to museums and pondering over Baroque art and reading poetry over a pretentious cup of coffee. Sure, these were all things you had done - you had photo proof, after all - but somehow you didn't recognize yourself. It felt like you were looking at pictures of a stranger living a life you wanted but couldn't reach. 

Most people were fine - charming, even. You got maybe one or two that felt like they would lure you into their sex dungeon to murder you, but that was expected with any dating site. You even went on a few dates, scrounging up the nicest dress you owned and getting pampered at a five-star restaurant or going for a ride on an older woman’s personal yacht. One person even took you for a helicopter ride, which was fun but she was a little too handsy on the first date to warrant a second. 

One name kept popping up though, a name that was becoming far too familiar in your notifications. 

ellie: meet me at 8 <3 

When she first messaged you, you had thought she was like you: somebody searching for a partner to pay their bills. Her pictures didn't exactly scream sugar mommy material. Her first picture was just a normal selfie taken outside; she wore a worn out leather jacket, her short hair tangled from the wind and green eyes squinting in the sunlight. She had stupid pictures of mushrooms and candid shots of her browsing a science museum, looking far too excited in front of a t-rex skeleton. Hell, in most of her pictures she looked like she was wearing clothes she had found at a thrift store.

You had thought she was like you, until she sent you a picture inside her fucking Rolls-Royce. 

“Fuck,” you audibly cursed into the quiet of your room. You had been talking for a few days, and she had begun to do that - sending you small selfies throughout the day. In the last one, she had taken a picture in front of the mirror at the gym, flicking off the camera, her lean muscles glistening with sweat. Before that, it had been a blurry picture of her dog, Riley - a huge German Shephard - splayed on her back at a park, leaves stuck in her fur. 

So, yeah, when you found out Ellie was not only rich, but rich enough to casually have a Royce, you were more than a little surprised. 

The selfie was cute, you couldn’t deny that. Her hair was wind-swept, catching in those long ass eyelashes. Ellie’s nose was scrunched up, freckles popping against her cheeks, holding up a peace sign. 

She was fucking adorable and you already knew it. But seeing her worn out leather jacket and messy hair against black and white leather seats that looked like they, alone, cost more than your entire apartment complex combined - it was a little jarring. 

And when she asked you out on a date soon after - after finding out she wasn’t Iike you but rather searching for someone like you - how could you say no? 

Ellie offered to pick you up - like a gentleman, she had said - but frankly, you weren’t quite convinced yet that she wasn’t some blood-thirsty pervert trying to lure you into her dungeon, so you politely declined. Instead, in your nicest dress and heels you hardly wore because they pinched your toes, you called an Uber. 

You had never been to this side of town. You had plugged in the address Ellie gave you - had double and triple checked it while your awkwardly chatty Uber driver tried asking you about what you do for a living - but the streets here were so unfamiliar you may as well have been in another city. You looked at the foreign buildings rising up around you, large windows giving you a glimpse of the life inside them. People were sitting outside in the chilly air, laughing over wine and dinner. Looking at them - with perfectly sculpted hair and clothes you would have to spend several entire paychecks on - you felt like a cheap impersonator dressed up in a costume. 

The Uber pulled up in front of a hotel, and your heart stopped. Surely, this wasn’t where Ellie had sent you - leading you to some fucking hotel room when you hadn’t even met yet? 

You turned to the driver, your home address at the edge of your tongue, when the car door opened. 

You had practically been leaning against the door to peer out the window, and nearly lost your balance when it was suddenly gone without warning. You looked up, ready to yell at whatever pretentious prick in Prada was trying to fuck with you - but your voice died in your throat. 

Ellie was shorter than you thought she'd be, honestly. In all her pictures, she had this commanding energy, like she would tower over you in person. 

Which, to be fair, she was. She had her arm propped on the doorframe above your head, leaning over so she could meet your eyes. Her hair was pushed back from her face, a few stray strands falling over her forehead, and she was looking at you with an intensity that hadn't quite translated through her pictures.

Ellie smiled - that adorably crooked smile you had seen in all her selfies - and said, “Hi.” 

And the only word you were able to get your mouth to form was, “Fuck.” 

Ellie blinked at you for a moment - long enough that you could feel the flush creeping up your neck and were ready to walk home if you had to - before she finally laughed. That wasn’t like what you had expected either; she had this deep, rough laugh, almost like she was trying to hold it in. 

She looked up at you through her lashes - you tried to ignore the way your heart inexplicably skipped - and said, “I’ll take that as a compliment?” Her voice tilted up at the end like it was a question. Ellie ducked her head down further, looking past you to meet the driver’s eyes, and pulled cash from her back pocket. With her most charming smile, she handed it to the driver and said, “Thanks for getting her here safe.” 

You didn’t see how much money she gave him, but after she took your hand and guided you out of the car, you turned back just in time to see his grin before he sped off. 

“Thanks for coming out.” You looked back at Ellie and found yourself speechless once again. (You, thankfully, were able to hold in the expletive this time.) The worn out jacket that had featured in just about all of her pictures was missing, replaced instead by a pristine, white satin shirt, the top few buttons undone to expose a sliver of collarbone and a gold chain beneath. Despite the chill in the air, she had a classy black jacket hanging from her arm as though it were an accessory. Ellie smiled and looked down, licking her lips before saying, “You’re quite the sight for sore eyes.”

You tried to smile at her but found that your eyes kept flitting behind her, looking at the looming monstrosity of the hotel. It was a nice hotel - the kind that had a huge fountain right in front of it and a chandelier in the lobby that sparkled through the window - but it was a hotel nonetheless. Despite the set in your jaw, traitorous tears stung the corners of your eyes; you wanted to kick yourself for actually thinking that Ellie might be different. 

Ellie followed your gaze over her shoulder, her smile dropping, before she quickly turned back to you with panic in her eyes. She stumbled over her words as though her tongue weren’t cooperating: “Shit, I’m sorry, this looks really bad doesn't it?” She grimaced and squeezed your hand she was still holding, scratching awkwardly at the back of her head with the other. “Fuck, this isn’t the first impression I wanted. I could promise it's not what it looks like, but maybe it'd be better if I just showed you?”

You honestly did think about telling her to fuck off. She was a complete fucking stranger that you only really knew from a dating app, and she was trying to lure you into a hotel in a part of town you were unfamiliar with - really, only an idiot would follow her. 

But she was looking at you with wide green eyes, the lights around you shining back like stars. While searching for the constellations, you found yourself saying, “Okay.” You blinked, pulled from a trance, and added, “But you should know, I do have a taser in my bag.” 

That pulled a shocked laugh from Ellie’s lips. She gently tugged on your hand, pulling you towards the door, and said, “Smart girl.” 

You knew that the hotel was outside of your price range because a perfectly groomed doorman opened the door for you, waving you inside with a gloved hand. You didn’t take much time to process the interior - the chandelier was just as grand as it had seemed from outside and elaborate columns rose to the ceiling - because Elllie was pulling you towards the elevators. It was like she wanted to ignore the fact that she had brought you to a hotel at all. You couldn’t decide if that was reassuring. 

In the empty elevator, you gently drew your hand back and leaned against the wall opposite her. You tried to ignore looking at the way her pinstripe slacks hugged the curves of her thighs, the fabric straining when she propped one booted foot on the wall behind her. 

“So,” you started in a desperate attempt to fill the awkward silence, “if you’re not leading me into a seedy hotel room on the first date, then what are we doing?” 

“Okay, one,” Ellie said, chuckling, “this is anything but a seedy hotel. And two, what kind of a date would it be if I ruined the surprise?” 

“And what if I don’t like surprises?” you countered. 

Ellie grinned. “I think you’ll like this one.” 

When the elevator doors opened, Ellie held her hand out to you as though it were a question. You hesitated for only a moment before placing your hand back in hers and letting her lead you out into open air. 

You nearly choked on a gasp. 

The bar itself was beautiful - fairy lights stretched above your head, twinkling like stars and casting the rooftop in a warm glow. Wooden tables and plush couches were spread artfully around the space, far enough apart to provide the patrons scattered about with some privacy. 

The bar was beautiful - but the view was fucking breathtaking. 

The city stretched out beyond the railings, open in a way you had never seen before. The skyline rose around you, each building shining like its own little galaxy amidst a sea of stars. The city lights blocked out the actual stars - a fact that never failed to piss you off - but you could see the crescent of the moon rising over the city, casting a quiet glow like a veil. 

You looked back at Ellie, and whatever your face held made her grin. She leaned in just enough so that her murmur was for your ears only: “So, was I right?” 

You blinked, momentarily distracted by her proximity - she smelled intoxicating, spicy and warm with a hint of tobacco beneath - before you finally said, “What?” 

Ellie snorted, breaking whatever spell she had put you under. “The surprise,” she said, leaning away enough for your head to clear. “Was I right?” 

You bit the inside of your cheek, pursing your lips as though you had to think about it. You couldn’t take your eyes away from the skyline stretched before you. 

You finally said, “That depends on how good the drinks are.” 

When Ellie laughed, her eyes crinkled in the corners, her nose scrunching. It was a full, rich sound, hanging in the air above your head like helium. It made something in your chest tighten, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. 

She squeezed your hand, a twinkle in her eye, and said, “The old-fashioned's to die for.” 

You pursed your lips again to hide your smile.

Ellie didn’t bother checking in with the host, simply shot her a smile and a wave as you walked by - you tried to bite back a giggle when you saw the host’s face turn red, her eyes tracking Ellie as she led you to a table right along the edge of the railing. She pulled the chair out for you - “Such a gentleman,” you laughed - before taking the seat opposite you.

As she waved over a waiter, you took a moment to lean your head over the railing. It was made entirely of glass, giving you a clear view of the city below. You could hear the distant sound of traffic, cars racing below you like shiny beetles, but it was like it was coming from a different world altogether. Everything seemed impossibly, wonderfully small from up here. 

You looked up at the sound of your name to find a groomed waiter wearing a fucking waistcoat standing before you. Ellie was looking at you with laughter in her eyes, her lips twitching. 

“Shit, sorry,” you said, immediately flinching at your own curse. You suddenly couldn’t remember the proper etiquette in a fancy bar, feeling out of place and underdressed even in your nicest outfit. You looked between Ellie and the waiter, wracking your brain for any kind of drink that wasn’t a trashy cocktail you’d find at a dive bar. 

Seeing you floundering, Ellie gave you a reassuring smile and said, “Do you like wine?” 

Relief washed over you as you nodded. Turning back to the waiter, Ellie ordered something that you couldn’t even hope to pronounce, charm lifting the corner of her mouth. She spoke to the waiter with the steady ease of familiarity, laughing at some inside joke; you briefly wondered just how often Ellie came to this bar. Surely, a nice place like this - at the very precipice of the world, looking down at the stars - wouldn’t be a regular stop on anyone’s schedule, but Ellie and the staff spoke like old friends. 

When the waiter left, tussling Ellie’s hair playfully, she turned back to you and the awkwardness of a first date finally set in. Sure, you had been texting Ellie every day for a week now, but you still hardly knew the girl. You knew she liked mushrooms and hiking. You knew that most of her clothes were from the thrift store even though she could afford any designer brand she wanted. You knew her favorite video game was Dishonored. But nothing you knew was enough for a relationship. 

But you weren't exactly looking for love, were you? 

After a moment of silence, Ellie cleared her throat, looking out over the city. “It's nice out here.” 

You snorted before you could stop yourself, covering your mouth; it didn't cover the laughter in your eyes. You said, “You're really talking to me about the weather?”

Ellie opened her mouth, an indignant sparkle to her eye, before shutting it again. It was like she was malfunctioning, opening and closing her mouth yet no sound came out. She furrowed her brows, looking at you as though you were something new and interesting, before finally chuckling, looking away. “Yeah, I-I guess I am.” When she looked back up at you, her eyes were surprisingly sheepish. “Not making a great first impression, am I?”

You couldn't stop the smile that crept up to your eyes. You leaned closer, propping your chin in your hand, and said, “I think you're doing okay so far.” 

Ellie laughed that wondrous laugh again, her nose scrunching up, and the cord in your shoulders loosened. 

“Okay,” she sighed, her eyes still alight with residual laughter. “Okay, damn. Tell me about yourself.” 

“Well now this just sounds like a job interview.” 

Ellie threw her hands up in mock frustration, trying to stifle her own grin. “Okay, fuck, knock me down again! You're obviously an expert, so show me how it's done.” 

She leaned back and crossed her arms, looking at you expectantly, and it was the perfect moment for your drinks to arrive. Ellie did, in fact, order an old-fashioned. The waiter set two wine glasses on the table, producing a bottle seemingly from thin air. He held it out, explaining to you in rehearsed prose the year, acidity, and complexity in words that passed straight through you. You nodded along even as you didn't process a single word he said. 

When he left, you turned back to Ellie and said, “How did you find this place?” 

Ellie took a sip of her drink. The lights of the city danced in the amber glass. “Just an old haunt of mine, I guess.” 

You took a sip of the wine, taking the distraction. It was warm on your tongue, tasting of wood and fruit and something spicy just underneath. The wine you usually drank was the stuff you could find in your nearest grocery store, often tasting concerningly like bug spray and bought with whatever tips you had managed to scrape together from work. It was usually shared with a friend on your kitchen floor, the walls and thoughts spinning over your head. 

You much preferred wine like this: The taste of warmth and fire on your tongue, the cool air brushing your shoulders at the edge of the sky, and a beautiful person sitting across from you.

When Ellie lowered her glass, you could see amber droplets of whiskey clinging to her lips before her tongue darted out to catch them. You tore your eyes away, but her smile said that she had caught you staring. A chill ran up your spine that you were sure was just from the cold. 

Seeing you shiver, Ellie wordless reached behind her where she had tossed her jacket over the back of her chair. Standing, she rounded the table only for a moment, only long enough to place the coat over your shoulders. Her hands lingered there for a second too long before she retreated, sliding back into her seat as though she had never moved. 

“So, why are you here?” she finally said. 

You pulled the jacket around your shoulders, distracted by the smell of it. The same smell that must be her perfume clung to it, spiced and warm like an open fire, but something else clung to the fabric too. It was strangely metallic, sharp and intoxicating, and you couldn’t quite put your finger on it. It was shockingly warm against your skin. 

“I’m here,” you said, raising a brow and ignoring her real question, “because you sent me this address and told me to meet you here at eight wearing my nicest dress.” 

The corner of Ellie’s lips quirked, a grin she was trying to hide. She clasped her hands, leaning across the table so you could smell the whiskey on her breath. “And you agreed to meet a stranger at a seedy hotel,” she murmured, mocking your remark from earlier. Her grin revealed itself when your cheeks flushed. “But why are you here - what are you seeking?” 

You huffed out a laugh, shaking your head. “That’s kind of a dumb question, don’t you think? It’s pretty obvious why I’m on the app.” You cocked your head, leaning across the table, feeling a strange thrill when her eyes flashed. Your heart fluttered at the proximity, and you couldn’t remember when you had become so easily starstruck. “The real question, Ellie, is why are you?“ 

Ellie’s eyes darkened, and you weren’t sure if you just imagined her eyes flicking down to your lips. She looked back up at you through her lashes, her voice rough when she said, “That’s a third date kind of question.” 

Your eyebrows shot up. “What makes you so sure you’ll get a third date?” 

Ellie tilted her head, a slow smile pulling at her lips, and said, “Call it a hunch.” 

The waiter came to check on you, appearing at your shoulder like a ghost. You hastily retreated, leaning back in your chair as though the electricity in the air had shocked you, and took a sip of wine that was more than a little overzealous. You tried to choke it down as Ellie waved the waiter away with that heartstopping crooked smile. What happened to you? Since when were you so easily charmed by freckles, green eyes, and smart-ass comments? You couldn't remember the last time you had been so infatuated during a normal date, let alone one with these kinds of strings attached. 

“So you don't want to be in an interview,” Ellie said once the waiter was out of earshot. “I guess all my typical getting to know you conversations are out of the question.” 

“I didn't say that,” you countered, your throat still burning from your accidental wine waterboarding. “But come on - what girl are you going to impress by asking her questions like ‘Tell me about yourself,’ or ‘Why are you here?’ or ‘Why are you more qualified for this position?’”

“Okay, okay, goddamn,” she said, laughing. Grabbing the wine bottle, she looked at you for permission before pouring you another glass.

You brought the glass up to your lips, taking a sip to hide your smile. The flush in your cheeks was surely from the wine and nothing else. “What about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“I hardly know you.” On one hand, that felt entirely untrue - but especially after this recent discovery, you really knew nothing about this girl. “Tell me about you.” 

Ellie laughed that same rough laugh and your heart jumped. “Oh, so you're allowed to be the interviewer.” 

You nodded, twirling the glass between your fingers and looking at her expectantly. 

After a moment, Ellie rolled her eyes and ran a hand through her hair, but you could see the humor in her eyes. She downed the last of her old-fashioned and, like a good sport, said, “What do you want to know?”

Turns out, there was a lot to know - more than a simple dating app would tell you. Ellie had an older sister, Sarah, who lived in Dallas. Her dog was named after her childhood best friend. Her jacket wasn't thrifted after all, but had been her dad's. Speaking of which, she used to go hunting with him every season (“I haven't been in years, though,” she said, her eyes distant). On the weekends, she'd go to antique stores to look for art and trinkets to fill her house - her favorite antiques were from the 17th century. She hated horror movies and was a sucker for a good romance. 

In return, you caved and answered her pressing questions. You told her about your best friend - Ellie laughed when you told her that your friend had sent you the link to the app in the first place. You told her about your favorite show that you binge-watched whenever you felt like you were spiraling. You did not tell her about your apartment that was probably the size of her closet or the fact that you'd have to watch your budget after taking the Uber tonight, not to mention the extra $30 Uber to get home later. You did tell her about your family, and a strange, unexplained sadness crept into the creases around her mouth. You did tell her about your job, but didn't mention the second one you worked to afford groceries. You told her you were hoping for a real, human connection, yet didn't mention that you couldn’t imagine finding it in a fucking sugar mommy. 

All too soon, the wine bottle was empty and your chest was comfortingly warm. The lights strung across the bar danced above your head like fuzzy stars, and Ellie's smile was the brightest amongst them. Her glass was still empty, her wine glass dry, and yet her eyes told you she was intoxicated by something far stronger. 

“Sorry,” you said, giggling despite yourself. “I didn't mean to drink it all.” 

“Don't worry about it, darling,” she said, her voice silky smooth, reminding you of melted chocolate sliding down your throat. She tilted her glass, letting the remnants of melting ice clink against the side. “I wanted to make sure I could drive home okay.” 

The waiter arrived then, pulling the bill from his pocket and handing it to Ellie. You couldn't read the number upside down, not through the haze of the wine, but the number of digits made your stomach clench. Ellie dropped a black card into the folder and handed it back to the waiter. 

“How much do you want me to Venmo you?” you asked when she turned back to you. You clenched your hands in the hem of your dress, already calculating the extra shift you'd have to pick up to afford it. 

Ellie tilted her head, her brows furrowed. “Nothing,” she said, as though it were obvious. 

“That wasn't exactly a cheap bottle, Ellie,” you laughed. “Let me give you something.” 

Ellie hummed, propping her chin in her hand and looking at you with those same intense eyes; it sent a dangerous shiver down your spine. “I like when you say my name.”

You blinked at her. “Excuse me.” 

“I want to hear it again. That's how you can repay me.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ellie, I-” 

“Okay, now we're even,” she interrupted, smiling that crooked grin that you had started to crave. The waiter returned with her card and Ellie produced cash from her pocket, handing it to the waiter directly. He thanked her profusely before making his exit, grinning. When Ellie looked at you again, you were still watching her expectantly, dumbfounded. She finally rolled her eyes. “Seriously, what kind of date would I be if I made you pay?”

“You're not making me, I'm offering.” 

“And I'm saying no.” Ellie stood, straightening her shirt; when she tugged at it, the collar fell a bit, exposing sharp collarbones beneath. 

Rounding the table, she offered a hand to you, pulling you gently to your feet. You pulled her jacket tighter around yourself, knowing you needed to give it back yet unwilling to part with it just yet. 

Taking your arm, Ellie leaned in close enough that your breath caught in your throat and said, “I know why I found you on Seeking, okay? So, if it's alright with you, let me spoil you. Even if that just means one bottle of wine.” 

You laughed, but it sounded breathy even to your own ringing ears. “One very expensive bottle of wine.”

Ellie shrugged, a sparkle in her eye. “It's a small price to pay for your company.”

You were silent in the elevator, but you held on to her arm as though afraid to let go. You couldn't figure out why, but something in you urgently wanted nothing more than to be close to her. You couldn't remember the last time you had felt such a pull from somebody. 

Back on the street, the lights of the city seemed so much brighter than they had before. Ellie released your arm, turning to face you, and there was a strange pinch between her brows that you couldn't translate. 

“Do you want me to call you an Uber, or do you want me to take you home?” she asked, and your brain short-circuited. When you could do nothing but stammer, tripping over your own tongue, Ellie laughed. There was no mockery behind it, only quiet, bright amusement. “I meant I can drive you to your apartment so you don't have to drunkenly sit in an awkward Uber that smells sickeningly sweet and the driver tries to make mind-numbing small talk.” 

Your sigh of relief came out more like a laugh. 

Ellie tilted her head and stepped closer to you, her hand reaching out to graze your fingers, and that sigh was sucked right back into your lungs. Being so close to her made your head spin. Her breath fanned against your cheeks, smelling of warm whiskey, when she said, “Unless you want to come to my place?”

It had the uncertain tilt of a question, and Ellie wouldn't quite meet your eyes. 

“We don't have to do anything,” she continued in a rush. She scratched anxiously at the back of her head, a nervous laugh slipping between her lips. “We can just sit and talk more. Or watch a movie - my dad had this huge collection. I'm not gonna - You know, I'm not going to do anything you don't want.” She finally interrupted herself with a groan, rubbing a hand over her eyes. “Fuck, sorry, I wanted it to sound more suave than this.” 

And you would be a fucking idiot to go home with this impossible stranger. You had been taught better - never get into a stranger's car, and for the love of God, never let them take you to a second location. You could let her take you back to your apartment at least - you were admittedly incredibly tipsy and didn't particularly want to endure another ride with an annoyingly talkative Uber driver. You could go home, back to your claustrophobic, quiet apartment, and maybe - maybe - text  Ellie about setting up a second date. 

You were not stupid enough to go home with somebody on the first date. 

Except clearly you were, because you took the hand that was still grazing your fingers and looked up at Ellie - the contours of her face were shockingly etched with insecurity. And your dumb mouth said, of its own volition, “Okay.”

You had expected something flashy, like what a wealthy person would own in a movie - like a penthouse overlooking the city with too-white walls and electric guitars hanging, unused, on the walls. Maybe she had walls completely made of windows so it felt like you were on a pedestal overlooking the world. 

You hadn't expected a house that was older than your great-grandparents. 

When Ellie pulled into the driveway, you were sure she was just pulling in someplace to turn around, that she had missed her turn somewhere. But she put her stupidly-expensive car into park and killed the engine, shooting you an awkward glance. 

“Sorry,” she said, chuckling. “I know it’s not much.” 

You could only look at her incredulously, speechless, before looking back up at the house before you. You couldn’t even call it a house really - estate would be more fitting. Maybe mansion. Fuck, her house was the size of your apartment complex. It towered over you, three stories of intricate woodwork, warm brown beams wrapping around the structure like an elaborate skeleton. With beautiful eaves winding around the roof and an entire turret reaching for the moon, it looked like something that had stepped right out of some 1800s southern gothic novel. 

Ellie cleared her throat, startling you from a trance. You looked back at her and, for some reason, couldn’t stop yourself from laughing.

”Shit, sorry,” you said, covering your mouth with your hand. “I just - I’ve just never seen anything like it.” When Ellie’s eyes clouded over with uncertainty, you added softly, “It’s beautiful. Besides, Ellie,” you added, laughing again, “‘not much’ doesn’t really suit you.” 

Ellie opened and closed her mouth and yet no words came out. She was looking at you again as though you were something interesting - something new and exciting. Nobody had ever looked at you that way before, and the way your heart clenched at the sight was more than a little dangerous. 

Ellie finally smiled, huffing out a laugh - your heart was pretty satisfied with how often you were able to make her laugh - and said, “Do you still want to come inside?” 

And, surprisingly, you said, “Yeah, I do.” 

As Ellie got out, rounding the car to open your door for you, you discreetly checked that the taser was still in your bag. Sure, you had agreed to go home with a practical stranger, but you couldn't be too careful. 

The porch steps creaked as she led you to the door - double doors (of course), with stained glass and twisting vines carved into the wood. When Ellie opened them, it felt like you were transported to a different time on an entirely different world. 

The grand staircase caught your eye first - how could it not? Warm wooden steps covered in a blood red runner, a white banister winding up, those same vines that seemed to be the house’s signature carved into it. You could see a large, stained-glass window at the landing before it curved to disappear to the second floor. Moonlight splintered through the window in broken relief. 

As though in a trance, you wandered further into the house, walking to the fireplace situated right beneath the stairs. The wood stacked neatly inside was cold, untouched by a flame. There was a large mirror set atop the mantle, its gold frame a work of art alone. In the reflection, you could see the flush to your cheeks, and tried to convince yourself it was only from the cold. You still wore Ellie’s jacket, and you pulled it tight around your shoulders, as though it were a shield. 

You watched Ellie’s reflection as she walked slowly towards you, a small smile gracing her lips. She came close enough to touch - close enough that you could feel her cool breath against the back of your neck - and yet she didn’t put a hand on you. 

“There’s a lot more to see than the foyer,” she murmured, the words brushing your skin. “If you still want.” 

And you couldn’t stop your own smile as you turned back to her, your heart skipping at her proximity. “Show me.” 

She took your hand, her fingers shockingly cold, and led you into what must have been her living room - sitting room? Despite the fact that the house felt more like a museum - like you would get scolded for touching anything - the room was surprisingly cozy. A large, plush sectional was situated in front of another fireplace- this one also unblemished. Blankets and quilts were thrown over the couch and the accompanying chairs, leaving this time capsule looking strangely welcoming. 

“Okay, I have to ask,” you said, turning back to Ellie. She was watching you carefully, gauging your reaction with soft eyes, and you lost your train of thought. You opened your mouth but no sound came out; you weren’t sure if that was more or less embarrassing than the several curses you had said earlier in the night. 

Ellie hummed, raising her hand as though she wanted to touch you. She stopped only inches away from your cheek and dropped her hand, saying, “I’m an open book.” 

You had to turn away to collect your thoughts, wandering across the room if just to catch your breath. The opposite wall was lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. You ran your fingers along the spines of vintage classics, an array of science books, and comics, enjoying the irony of seeing Savage Starlight in the middle of all this history. You picked up a copy to keep your hands busy. 

“How, um,” you started, stumbling over your words, “how did you end up here?” 

Ellie hummed again, and you heard her footsteps following you. “Here as in this town, this country, this world? You gotta be a little more specific.” 

You sighed, giving in and turning to look at her. She kept a careful distance, standing a few feet away from you with her hands in her pockets. “You know what I mean, smartass.”

Ellie chuckled, but her eyes had grown distant, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. She took a few more steps closer to you, looking at the comic book in your hands. On the app, she hadn’t struck you as the type to get easily bashful, and yet she had proven you wrong a few times already. 

“My family lived here,” she finally said, quiet as a secret. You watched her carefully, jumping at the opportunity to stare at her without those intense eyes looking back at you. Her brow furrowed and she pressed her lips together as though she was in pain, her green eyes shining. “It was just… passed down, I guess? It’s kind of always been here ever since I can remember. I’m not entirely sure when it became mine.” 

You tucked the comic book back into its spot between The Iliad and The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. You said absently, “How old is this place anyway?”

”It was built in 1816,” she said automatically, as though it were memorized. 

“It’s an awfully big house for just one person.” You looked up at her through your lashes as she stepped closer - close enough that you could smell that same metallic warmth that seemed to cling to her. 

“It is,” Ellie murmured, smiling. She reached out again, and this time she allowed herself to touch you. Her cold fingers brushed against your cheek before she gently cupped your jaw, tilting your head so you’d look at her properly. Her green eyes were downright intimidating. “But I keep good company.” 

You rolled your eyes, yet you couldn’t convince yourself to look away. “Is that what you say to all the girls?” 

Ellie hummed, bracing her other hand on the bookshelf behind your head, and murmured, “No, I don’t.” She pressed in closer, her gaze dropping to your mouth, and you felt like your heart was going to leap from your throat. Ellie huffed out a laugh as though she could hear it pounding against your chest. When her thumb brushed your bottom lip, your lips parted on instinct. She didn’t look away, transfixed on the point where her skin touched your mouth, and you almost didn’t hear her when she said, “Can I?” 

And you had never been the kind of person to kiss on the first date, but she was looking at you with eyes hooded with want, her breath fanning against your cheeks. When she licked her lips, you couldn’t stop your eyes from following the motion. Her lips glistened, parted and plump, looking so impossibly soft. Somehow, past your haze, you heard yourself say, “Yes.” 

Ellie took her time in kissing you. She pressed you back gently, your shoulders pressing into the bookshelf behind you, and touched her nose to yours. She took a deep breath, breathing you in. Her hand was soft against your cheek, tilting your jaw up, and you hardly had to move to finally kiss her. 

Ellie tasted just like she smelled - spicy and metallic, the old-fashioned still hanging on her tongue. Despite the cold of her hand on your cheek, her mouth was impossibly warm, her breath slipping between your lips; it was intoxicating in a way that the wine couldn’t compare to. Her mouth moved against yours, soft and slow as a dance. 

Your hands reached out as though of their own accord, circling her waist and gripping at the slippery silk of her shirt. She pressed in close, crowding you against the bookshelf; you could feel her chest pressing against you, her hips on yours, the line of her body against yours making your head spin. And when Ellie’s tongue pressed against your lips, a gentle request for access, you felt like you’d faint altogether. 

Her tongue slipped between your teeth and you couldn’t stop the breathy sound it pulled from your throat. You could feel that infuriating smile against your lips and suddenly wanted nothing more than to wipe it away. You balled her ridiculously expensive shirt in your hands and pulled her impossibly closer, nipping at her bottom lip, and you wanted to swallow her gasp. 

Ellie pulled away, chuckling, but she didn’t go far. She pressed a kiss to your cheek, her lips trailing down to your jaw, and she could probably feel your pulse jump beneath her tongue. You could hear the smile in her voice when she said, “Do you do this often?” 

Her teeth grazed the sensitive spot below your ear, and it took you a few moments before you could respond. “Do what?” Despite yourself - despite the way your fingers gripped her shirt, your head swimming and an unexplainable want burning in your veins - you couldn’t help but laugh. “Go on a date with somebody I met on an app for sugar babies and go back to their ridiculously old mansion on the first date and-“ 

You cut yourself off. You weren’t sure exactly what was happening, and you were afraid that voicing it would break whatever spell you were under - whatever spell made this impossible woman’s touch feel like lightning. 

But Ellie only laughed, biting at the spot where your neck met your shoulder. “Yeah, that.” 

You shivered against her touch. “No, I’ve never really done this.” 

“Guess I’m just lucky.” 

Ellie kissed you again, only briefly, before she finally pulled away. She was grinning, her eyes sparkling with those same constellations; her face wasn’t even flushed, making you feel embarrassed about your burning cheeks. You were panting, intoxicated from the night and wine and Ellie. Her absence felt like an ache, your body craving the feeling of her lips, her teeth, her hands. You were close to tugging her back in, your hands still gripping her shirt, but she gently untangled herself from you with a laugh. 

“I want to keep going.” She paused, and then emphasized, “I really want to keep going. But you drank an entire bottle of wine, and I’d be kind of a shitty host if I didn’t offer you something to drink at least. Or are you hungry?” 

You were hungry, but it was the kind of hunger that food wouldn’t satiate. Still, you let your hands drop back to your sides, feeling your senses return to you now that they weren’t so tuned into Ellie - how she smelled, tasted, felt. When you laughed, it sounded breathy even to your own ears. “Some water would be nice.” 

“I can do that,” she said with a smile. “Stay here.” She kissed you again, lingering for a few moments longer than needed, before she turned and disappeared down the hall, leaving you alone in this ridiculously old mansion. 

With nothing else to keep yourself entertained, you did a slow lap around the room, eyeing the ironic blend of elegant antiques and silly trinkets that were so obviously Ellie. A cracked ivory trinket box sat on a shelf, intricate flowers engraved into the lid, set right next to a small figurine of an astronaut. Beautiful paintings lined the walls, signatures dating back to 1830 in elaborate script at the bottom, but there were also a few posters littered here and there - bands and video games. 

You walked over to the mantle, your fingers grazing over the marble top. The logs inside were untouched, and you briefly wondered if she’d light a fire soon to chase out the chill of autumn. A small jar filled with guitar picks sat at the corner, and you wondered if she really did have an electric guitar collection hidden around here somewhere. Your foot kicked an empty dog bowl, and yet Riley was nowhere to be found. Maybe Ellie took her to daycare when she knew she’d bring a girl home. You nearly laughed at the idea. 

Atop the mantle, hidden behind pictures of what must have been friends or family - hiking or traveling or laughing in somebody’s backyard - there was another picture frame. It must have fallen, face down so that the picture inside was covered. You reached out, careful to not disturb any of the other frames, and picked it up. You were just going to fix it, set it up next to the others, but something in the image caught your eye. You plucked it from its home, bringing it closer, holding it up to the light to get a better look. For a long time, you couldn’t figure out what you were looking at. Your heart hammered against your chest, your ears ringing, as though your body had figured it out before your brain did. 

It was an old photograph, grainy and sepia, faded and frayed around the edges with age. It was the house, looking just like it did today - the huge windows shining in the sunlight, the intricate eaves and wrap-around porch perfectly polished and new. A family stood on the lawn in front of the house, looking awkward and stiff. Back then, cameras took several minutes to actually capture a photo, so people tended to look a little awkward from trying to hold the same expression for so long. But that’s not what had caught your eye. 

It was a small family - a weary looking dad and his two daughters, looking just a few years younger than you. 

She looked a little different. Her hair was longer, falling in waves around her shoulders. She was definitely a few years younger, and she wore a sweet, full-length gown instead of a worn leather jacket. 

You checked the date in the bottom corner at least five times, but there was no mistaking it. The person in the photo was undeniably Ellie, standing in front of this house in 1816. 

tag list: @macaroni676 @ellstronaut @elliewilliamsmiller0 @elliescoolerwife @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @peejayurple @liliflowers-blog @filtered-sunlight @hobbybound

[bluesidez]

GymRat!Miguel Part 9.1 | full chapter without breaks on AO3

content warning: lots of music links, ROADTRIP!!, some hurt/comfort at the beginning, a damn near comedy if I must say so myself, Spanish parts (if wrong, please correct me), lots of fluff, Buc-ee's shenanigans (I love that store), Miguel drives a Range Rover (hot, I know. Tyler got that MUNYUN), some jealous Miguel (MY FAVORITE), a hint of jealous reader 🫨 (she has a storm coming lol), simp Miguel if I'm being honest, 18+ so MNDI, male masturbation, wet wet fantasies, both reader and Miguel are h word for each other

word count: 7.1k, damn near proofread (this is only one part of the behemoth)

I did some research on MLE, yachts, superyachts, dolphins, and water activities for this chapter. 🤠 Hopefully, it shows! The yacht size I imagined is somewhere in between a regular yacht and a superyacht/megayacht. I built a Range Rover just for GR!Miguel you guys. (thanks to my irl besties and @slushycoookie once again 🥰)

Prev | Next (Part 9.2) ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮ Masterlist

GymRat!Miguel who comes back home after nearly a week of bliss with you. He floated all the way home from dropping you off with Tyler’s people.

He made them wait much longer than they needed to when he decided to makeout with you next to the black Suburban. 

Only a few more weeks before he could see you again. 

GymRat!Miguel who is met with his mom sitting on the couch with just the tv glowing on her. 

His steps were too heavy to sneak past her, so he just sighed and settled down on one of the plush chairs. 

“I see you’re home,” she says. Her eyes don’t move from the Golden Girls episode playing softly. 

“Sí, mamá.”

“How come you didn’t tell me where you went?”

“Gabriel told you where I was. I’m sure you asked him.” Miguel was tired already. 

“He did, pero eso no fue lo que te pregunté.” (but that’s not what I asked you)

“Ma-”

“Mijo.”

“You’re not even looking at me.”

“And you’ve sat so far away. Like I’m going to hurt you. Miguel, I asked you to come home. You didn’t respond. You didn’t call. You didn’t even speak to me when you came back a few days ago.”

Miguel stared at her face, willing himself not to get emotional over this. 

“I acknowledge that I should have let you know where I was. I didn’t talk to you because I didn’t want to say something I would regret.”

Conchata finally turned to look at Miguel. Her first-born. The life given to her after so much turmoil. 

She could still see the little boy that would cry at the drop of a hat. She could still see the little boy that would dry up his tears if Gabriel started to cry with him, just to comfort him. The little boy with so much room in his heart. 

She can see him now, face ridden with sadness. A face that she knew too well. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, mijo.”

“Well, you did. Again. I’m used to it. This isn’t a new feeling. What is new, is you acting like this towards someone else close to me.”

“I-”

“Let me finish, ma, please. You’ve never been a parent that cares about how I’ve felt in regards to anything. You have made decisions for me without a second thought without ever considering how I might feel. You’ve also never been the type of person who hurts someone else for no reason. I’m sorry I’m not with someone you picked, but I’m not sorry for loving her. She is everything to me. If I were to fall, there’s no doubt in my mind that she would be there to build me back up. She’d probably even break my fall if I couldn’t stop her.” 

Miguel stopped to look up, willing himself not to cry. 

“What you said to her brought something out that she hasn’t felt in a while. You broke her in a way that I promised myself I never would. I wanted to present her to my family in a positive light, to show her off. I didn’t expect you to be ecstatic about her, but I did hope that you could at least open your heart up once you met her.”

He looked off, tears escaping from his eyes. You’re in a better position now, but he won’t know if that donner will creep back up on you, making you hate yourself for something that’s not your fault. He remembered the pain in your voice, how kept it in until you were with him and away from the manor. He hated it. 

“But instead, she was met with two people who paid her no respect. Two people that brought her turmoil. I expected Kron to be horrible, look at how he talked to you, but not you. You were supposed to be better. You didn’t see how much you hurt her, I did. It’s like we prepped for nothing but a shitshow and I should have followed my gut and kept her to myself a little longer.”

Miguel sniffed, wiping at his nose in hopes that it would stop the urge to cry. 

Conchata let the silence rest. Nothing but the TV and her son’s sniffles filled the room. 

“I’m sorry, Miguel.”

Miguel turned back. Shocked that she didn’t put up much of a fight. 

“I just,” she paused. “There’s no excuse for how I treated her. She didn’t deserve it and if I could go back and change my behavior, I would. I think that I was just overwhelmed. Upset because my baby is growing up. He’s moving on and I can’t hold him in my hands anymore. I don’t tuck him in anymore. I don’t have to check under his bed for monsters. He doesn’t need me to do anything. So this shift is hurting me, mijo, and I took it out on the wrong people. For that, I’m so sorry.”

Conchata was a hard-cased woman. She stuck with her opinions, even if they were blatantly wrong. She was proud and vocal. She never let people see her crack or fall under pressure. So, seeing her like this, begging for Miguel to understand her, was a rare moment for Miguel. 

“Ma, me growing up doesn’t stop me from being your son. I’m still here. I’ll still rely on you, but I want you to have a break too. You have to let me grow. I won’t live here forever, but that doesn’t mean I won’t come back to you. I’m glad you were able to express this to me, I just wish you could have said so sooner.”

“Lo siento, mijo.”

Miguel got up to get closer to her. He wrapped her up in his arms, too easy to forgive her. “It’s ok.”

He leans back and kisses her forehead, heart mending by the smallest of stitches. “You still have to apologize to my girlfriend, though.”

“I will when I see her again.”

“And we need to go to therapy.”

“George has already told me.”

“And I want you to make me some ceviche. And tamales.”

“Bueno.”

“And tres leches.” 

She sighed, but squeezed him tighter. “Don’t curse in front of me again, and I’ll consider it.”

“Gracias, mamá.”

“De nada, mijo.”

GymRat!Miguel who goes to sleep with his body feeling a lot lighter. The weight of his relationship with his mom lifted a little off his shoulders.

GymRat!Miguel who has two grand master plans that he’s been setting out for months: eating you out and making your first time together special. 

He’s been overthinking every detail like a maniac. The peaches from the fruit bowl have been disappearing to his room for research purposes only- and a snack of course. 

He once ended up on the girl side of Tik Tok where they complain about everything guys get wrong when pleasuring them. He had been thoroughly reading the comments and taking notes here and there. He didn’t really need the tip about making noise though, he already does that just thinking about you. So many times has he had to stuff his mouth when jerking off. 

He also had a few tabs open in incognito mode. That research is only done in the deep of the night. 

Right now, he’s sitting at his desk reading some article about listening to your partner’s body and his mind can’t help but to wander off. Will you grip your thighs around him? He hopes so. He could die that way. Will you be vocal? Will you tell him if it’s too much? Will you guide his head and pull his hair? 

That last question has him gripping his sweats in anticipation. No doubt when you scratched at his back in the hotel room, he was reeling from the sensation. It was like a reward for him whenever you feel so good, you’re too unaware of what you’re doing to him physically. Too lost in bliss to register the marks and pain you’re leaving on him. You just want him to give you more. 

Miguel drops his pen and pushes the heel of his palm on his growing bulge. 

“Fuck.” Every time about an hour or so into researching, his head is full of you. He imagines what it’ll be like to finally taste you, to be inside you. 

He remembered how wet you got with just a little rubbing. Your body was so responsive to his movements and he couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen if you guys upped the foreplay. 

Miguel leaned back in his chair, arm over his head. He dropped his hand in his sweats hand gripping at the base of his erection, exhaling deep as he gave it a few pumps. 

Your hands on his chest. Your arms around his neck. Your nails scraping his back. Your thighs wrapping around his waist. Your breath on his lips. 

You opening up for him. You dripping down his fingers, down his legs, down his face. You screaming out his name loud enough for the entire neighborhood to file a complaint. You in whatever position he puts you in. He could hold you up. Maybe have your legs in the air or stretched out on the bed. He could have you grabbing for the sheets, the headboard, him. His head in your chest, in your pussy, in your ass. 

Pre-cum spilled onto his stomach, rolling down his shaft. Would you let him go that far?

He doesn’t know what’s worse, the cold showers and teeth-marked arms at the beginning of the relationship or his constant daydreams of your body connecting with his that kept occurring regularly. 

Maybe you felt the same way too. That was a new thought. 

Do you wonder about your first time together? Were you just as excited as him? Do you get wet at the thought of him inside of you? Do you have to stop everything and find pleasure like he does? Were your fingers enough or did you need more?

Miguel continued to move his hand up and down, squeezing occasionally to mimic what you might feel like. 

He’s groaning into his elbow, hips lifting from his desk chair. 

He could almost hear your voice in his ear. Begging, praising, crying out, stuttering. 

GymRat!Miguel who cums as Gabriel slams through the door. In a matter of 15 seconds, Miguel covers his drenched chest, shoves his sensitive dick back down, and grabs napkins to try to wipe away at his hand. 

Nevermind his shirt is now ruined. 

“What the fuck are you looking at and why is this picture showing a seductive pomegranate?”

“Why the fuck are you opening my door without knocking?”

“I did knock! I did our special knock plus a freestyle! I thought you were dead, Miguelito.”

Miguel’s heart felt a little tug despite its rapid tempo, “’M not dead, Gabri. Just busy. I didn’t hear you.”

Gabriel snickered when he got closer to look at his laptop. “I can see why. These tabs are a dead giveaway.” 

Gabriel reached over to stare at Miguel’s notebook. 

“These are some good tips! You shouldn’t expect her to taste like sweets, though.”

Nothing in his notes indicated that, but Miguel wanted to be offended for you anyway. 

Miguel gave Gabriel a hard side eye, mouth set deeply down. 

“I really wish you would get out of my room.”

“Oo, you should buy a rose. Dana loves that thing.”

“I don’t want to hear about whatever freaky shit you and Dana get up to, Gabriel.”

“You’ve caught me in more embarrassing situations, I’m just trying to lighten the mood! I also suggest those candy panties-”

“I’m not putting candy on- Gabriel. Can you please stop talking to me?”

“Miguel, this stuff is important!”

“¿Por qué eres así?” Miguel mumbled. “Ok, yeah. I get it. But you can chat to me about this after I’ve switched shirts.” (Why are you like this?)

“Fine, I’ll come back. Ten minutes. Then we must have a healthy chat about how to have fun safely.”

Gabriel skipped back to the door singing Candy loud enough to be heard as he went back to his own room. 

“Strawberry! Raspberry! All those good things! Violets and gumdrops that’s what you’re saying to me, me, me.”

A black hole would be nice to save himself from this situation. 

GymRat!Miguel who jumps out of his bed the day of the “Yacht Weekend.” Gabriel is dead set on calling it the “Yachty Pawty” and Miguel thinks that’s unbelievably stupid. 

GymRat!Miguel who has to go and pull Gabriel out of his bed to get him to get ready, his body stretching like a ferret. He’s never been a morning person. It’s like his brain didn’t start computing until noon. 

GymRat!Miguel who jogs around the neighborhood to kill time. The weather is a lot cooler in the morning plus it gives Gabriel time to come to reality. He waves to the son of one of his neighbors who gawks at him as he passes by. 

Were his shorts giving away too much again? He didn’t feel a draft. 

He looked down at his crotch. All good. 

GymRat!Miguel who calls you while he stops to take a water break. 

“Amor!” His voice is bright and his smile is radiant, watching as you squint at the screen.

Your cheek is squished against the pillow and you’re wrapped up in your covers. 

“Hey, Miggy. It’s so bright there.”

Your voice was scratchy, a sign of how deep in sleep you were. You were so fucking cute. 

“Are you running?”

He placed his phone on a nearby bench so he could stretch. “Yeah, I’m taking a break.”

He went into a deep lunge, stretching his body low to the ground. 

You went quiet for so long, Miguel thought the call dropped. 

“Baby? Did you go back to sleep?” Miguel asked.

“No, I’m still here. Those pants are,” you started to shuffle your phone. “Really short.”

“Really?” Miguel stood up and looked down at his pants. They did cut off high up his thighs, but they were good for running. Plus, he got hot easily, so he needed as much wind on his skin as possible. “They’re comfy.”

“Mm hm. Can you turn around for me?”

Miguel turned, confused but willing. 

“Got it. Thank you, my muscle bear!”

“What did you just do?”

“Took pictures of your ass. It looks great. I’m gonna hold it real good later.”

Miguel laughed and grabbed his phone. 

“Can I hold yours, too?” He wanted to do way more than hold it. 

You smile sleepily at the camera. “I’ll think about it.”

GymRat!Miguel who lets you stay on the phone while he runs back to the house. 

“You’re just going to hear the wind and me breathing for a few minutes.”

“And I’m fine with that! It’s like boyfriend ASMR. Peaceful.”

GymRat!Miguel who ruffles Gabriel’s hair when he gets back home. He’s staring at the wall and shoveling cereal in his mouth at the slowest pace known to man. 

“Buenos días, hermanito!” (Good morning, little brother)

“Mm.”

GymRat!Miguel who takes a cold shower to cool off for once and not because he’s having explicit thoughts of you. 

GymRat!Miguel who chugs down a protein smoothie while he waits for Gabriel to come downstairs. 

GymRat!Miguel who answers the door to Dana. She’s got some shades on and a purse with the same texture as a croc. 

She peers over her shades. “You’re looking put together!”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’re trying to impress your girl! What do you have planned? A dinner on the horizon? A spa date? Oh! No! Another shopping spree?l

Yes. No, but he should arrange that. And absolutely not. He’s not Tyler. 

“No,” Miguel squints. “But how can you tell?”

“You’re easy to read, big guy. Even when you think about her your eyes turn into hearts. When have you ever thought to wear a button down for a roadtrip to the beach?”

“Touche.”

“I’ll figure out what you’re up to. I have my ways.”

She twirls and runs up to Gabriel’s room, leaving a waft of strong perfume after her. 

With that, Miguel knew it would be at least another 45 minutes before he could get on the road. 

GymRat!Miguel who does his special knock on Gabriel’s door. 

“I’m opening it, so you fiends better have your clothes on.”

He swung the door open to the disheveled couple. Dana with her hair astray and Gabriel breathing eerily hard. 

“Seriously, guys? I need to go by the airport.”

“I was just waking him up!” Dana says with a voice that was much hoarser than it was an hour ago. 

“Well,” Miguel put a hand on his hip in a way that anyone could tell he was Conchata O’Hara’s son. “Are you awake, Gabri?”

Gabriel’s face was as red as a tomato as he shook his head no. 

Miguel pitched his voice higher to mimic his brother. “Ten minutes. And then we can have a conversation on time management and respect. Except it won’t be “safely” because I’m going to hurt you.”

GymRat!Miguel who finally backs out of the driveway in exactly ten minutes. Gabriel is rubbing his arm in the passenger seat with a pout on his face. Dana is grinning from ear to ear. 

GymRat!Miguel who hands Gabriel the aux. He might be a silly boy, but his music taste is immaculate.

GymRat!Miguel who almost has to hurt Gabriel again when he doesn’t want to get out of the passenger seat. 

“Why do I have to move?”

“Because I said so.”

“That’s not grounds for anything!”

Dana pokes her head over the console. “Gabie. Read the room. He wants to grip on to his girl while he drives with one hand. Show off.” 

GymRat!Miguel who kisses you and grabs your bags at the same time when he sees you. The cars around are loud, honking sporadically. People are walking and running to catch cabs or get to their loved ones. Workers are trying to direct the traffic. 

It all quiets down when he meets your eyes. 

“Hola, mi amor.”

You wrap your arms around his neck and bring him close. “Hello to you too, my love.”

You smile up until he presses his lips against yours. More and more pecks follow after that. 

He holds his nose to yours, completely enraptured by your presence. 

“Oh my god, let’s go!” Gabriel shouts from the car, pressing his palm against the steering wheel. 

“You’re not the one driving, pinche pendejo!”

You giggle and stand on your tippy toes to try and see over Miguel’s shoulder. You’re still too short so you lean sideways. Miguel melts. 

“Just a few more and we’ll be done Gabriel!”

“Fine. For you, I’ll let it slide.”

You stand back up straight and kiss Miguel a little more. 

GymRat!Miguel who does reach over and grip your thigh. If Gabriella and Troy weren’t in the back belting, he’d hike his hand up further. 

“Right now I can hardly breathe!” Gabriel pivots his head towards Dana dramatically, water bottle a faux mic. 

“Oh! You can do it, just know that I believe.” Dana is touching his chest dramatically. 

“Are they always like this?” You ask, laughing a little at their antics. 

Miguel groans in annoyance. “Yes.”

GymRat!Miguel who nearly sprints out the car when he parks by a pump. He’s been riding for a bit and he needs to stretch his legs. 

“Miggy, you want something from the store?” 

You’re standing next to the car, the wind blowing your hair back. Your jacket blows away a little, showing off the tight little outfit you’re sporting. You’re beautiful. 

He wants to break you down in the front seat of his car.

He swallows the thought. “I’ll come in there soon, don’t worry.”

You walk in the giant gas station and head immediately to the Icee machines. For the best possible experience, you should wait until it’s time to go before buying it. 

As you’re walking along the wall wondering what flavor you should get, you feel a tug at your arm. 

You turn to see Dana with some bottles in her hand. 

“I don’t know what he’s planning, but trust me when I say, you should take these.”

You frown as you take the cranberry juice. “Um.”

“I’ve been around those two long enough to know when one of them is up to something. I mean Gabriel hasn’t said anything off, but look at how he’s bopping around the store.”

You turn and look. 

He is indeed bouncing more than usual. He’s so tall that if he puts even more pep in his step, he might just break a hole in the ceiling. 

“Ok,” you turn back to Dana while fighting a laugh. “So they are planning something. What does that have to do with me and cranberry juice?”

“Gabie tries his best to use bro code, but I quite literally suck the information out of him sometimes. He caught Miguel looking at lots of articles about pleasuring his partner. With his mouth. That’s all I know for now.”

Your heart picks up. He was still going on about that?

“That might just be a coincidence.” 

“He’s wearing damn near beach attire with his hair styled. He held onto your thigh for an hour, even when the turns got tough. He stared at you walking into the store even until he couldn’t see you anymore.”

You bit your lip. “Those last two things are standard Miguel behavior.”

Dana huffs and spins you around. 

Across the store, you could see Miguel and Gabriel huddled over something. Miguel with his eyes focused and Gabriel animatedly explaining something. Every once in a while, Miguel would nod and roll his eyes up as if he was mentally checking on something. 

You sigh and turn back around. 

“Do they sell pineapples too?”

GymRat!Miguel who looms over you while you and Dana are looking at some cakes. You look up at him, pressing your head against his chest. 

Miguel kissed your forehead when you beamed at him. 

He looked over to Gabriel who was also crowding Dana and shouted, “¡Vamos!”

In a matter of seconds, Miguel had lifted you and brought you to the middle of the store where the workers were cooking up fresh meat. 

You squeal in shock and laugh on the way over. Miguel’s not even struggling. 

Gabriel on the other hand huffs as he places Dana down. 

“You need to work on that, babe.”

“I can lift you when I want to!” Gabriel replies, petulant. 

“For like one minute maybe. Why don’t you start working out with Miguel?”

“No thanks.” They both said in unison, almost carbon copies of each other. 

Really, if Miguel didn’t work out, or if Gabriel did for about a year, they could definitely play off as twins. Only subtle things separating them, like Gabriel’s freckles, softer face, and slightly shorter height and Miguel’s less curly hair, thicker eyebrows, and deeper voice. 

In your eyes, their bond was precious. You wondered what their baby pictures looked like. 

“You guys are so cute,” you say, reaching up to squeeze both of their cheeks. 

They both melt the same way in your hands. Miguel’s face is only a little bit hotter against your palm. 

GymRat!Miguel who presses up against you while you both check out. You stay nonchalant and talk to the cashier like normal, but you could feel Miguel’s heartbeat through your thin romper. 

Every breath he took molded on your skin, his chest rising and falling against your head. 

He kept steady hands on your hips and waist, only moving them to pay for your snacks. 

The cashier would take not-so-subtle breaks to stare up at him, face getting redder after each glance. 

You could only think “me too, girl.”

He really did look good today. His shirt was open a little lower than normal, his shorts loose but tightening around his thighs with every step he took. His hair was slicked back with a few strands falling loose and shades sat perfectly on top of his head. A chain danced around his neck, the color glowing on his pretty skin. He was tanner than usual, the sun making him glow after so many morning runs. 

To top it off he smelled really good. You wanted to lick him. 

From how slow the cashier was moving, you knew she was ready to take a lick too. 

You took moments like this in stride. Especially when Miguel was pressed so hard against you, you could feel his dick at the small of your back. 

Still, when people still tried to hit on your boyfriend or gawked at him even when you caught them, it was hard not feel frustrated about others thinking he can be taken from you. Or just ignoring you. 

More often than not, Miguel would bring you back down to earth with some action to let others know that he’s taken. 

Today, it was a kiss to your neck and a smack to your ass followed by his hand rubbing circles in the same spot. 

He grabbed the bags in one hand and your hip in the other. 

You looked back to the cashier scanning the next customer far more aggressively than before.  

GymRat!Miguel who eats half of his sandwich before starting the car back up. 

You still place the other half in front of his mouth, feeding him occasionally. 

He just smiles before and after each bite. Giddy with attention. You wipe his mouth to stop sauce from spilling from his shirt. 

Miguel almost turns the car into turbo drive. 

GymRat!Miguel who finally makes it to the beach an hour or so later. It’s late Thursday afternoon, so the sun is still shining bright. 

Gabriel is excited to finally be free from the tight back seat so he uses the opportunity to blast music from Miguel’s stereo. 

“C’mon, Dana! Dance with me,” Gabriel said, pulling her out of the back seat and bringing her to the front of the var. “Let’s have a twerk-off.”

You can’t stop the laugh that spills out of your mouth. You couldn’t imagine either of them shaking anything. 

“I can not twerk and you know it!”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t shake. Don’t be shy now!”

You and Miguel get out of the car to stretch, Miguel watching the two over the hood of the car, unphased. 

Gabriel turns to you with a glint in his eyes. “Can you twerk?”

You were ready to shake your ass on a yacht after some liquid courage, but you didn’t mind a little dancing beforehand. 

You hurried to the front before the song was over and put your hands on the hood. You bend over with an arch in your back and move your ass to the beat of the song. 

You hear Gabriel shout, “Oh shit! Go, go, go!”

Dana sprints, nearly bulldozing Gabriel to stand behind you and catch it. You laugh at the two and bend even deeper, encouraged by their cheers. 

GymRat!Miguel whose eyes nearly pop out of his head when you bend over. 

When did you learn how to do that?

He’s stunned for a second until he reaches inside the car and turns the radio off. He’s going to kill Gabriel. 

Miguel hurries to the front and picks Dana up by her armpits to move her aside. “You guys are wasting my gas and neither you or you are CashApping me shit.”

He straightens you up and pulls your risen romper back over your ass. He stands behind you like a bodyguard, arms crossed and frown deepening. 

“I don’t know what you think we’re going to be doing on this yacht, but all of my girls are throwing it back. You need to prepare yourself, Mig.” Dana scoffs, mostly offended that Miguel just removed her from a dream spot. 

“Yeah, Mig. Be mindful of why you were invited to the function,” Gabriel turned his nose up and wrapped his arm around Dana. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, m’lady.”

Gabriel bowed to you and you curtsied back with a fake dress. The two of them walked like royalty to the trunk, gathering their bags. 

GymRat!Miguel who stuttered trying to explain himself when you turned to him. 

“Is it going to be a problem for you that I’m dancing with others?”

“No!” he said way too fast. 

You gave him a look with your eyebrow raised. 

“You just,” he paused. His voice got quieter as he played with the strap of your romper. “You never danced on me before.”

He had a pout on his face, mouth turned like a duck. 

“Oh my god, Miguel. I can dance on you if you would like. You just have to ask.” He was so cute. You’ve never seen him get that jealous before. 

You kind of want to play with him some more. 

“Can you dance on me later?” he asks, not daring to meet your eyes. 

“Of course.”

You giggle as you kiss his cheek. His pout slowly disappearing from his face. 

GymRat!Miguel who is greeted by the enthusiastic captain with a shake that moves his entire arm. He’s a jolly little fellow, cheeks rosy and his mustache curled on the ends. He was also strangely stocky. He reminded Miguel of Santa Claus if he took vacations in the Bahamas when he’s not at the North Pole. 

“I take it you’re Mr. Stone’s son, yes?”

“That would be me.”

“Excellent! Excellent. Your father has told me quite a lot about you. You sure do take after his height. My name is Captain Barrett and I’ll be steering the boat for you youngins this weekend. Me and your father go way back. And between you and me, I was better lookin’!”

Miguel chuckles awkwardly, trying to move the conversation along. 

He finally looks past Miguel and sees the three of you standing there. 

“And who might you three be?”

“This is my younger brother, Gabriel. His girlfriend, Dana.” 

“And this is my girlfriend.” Miguel moves by your side and wraps his arm around your shoulders. His tone is full of warmth as he says your name. 

“It’s nice to meet you all. Will you all be in our cabins this weekend?”

“Yeah, this is four of the ten staying on board. The others won’t get here until tomorrow at noon.”

“Is Kron supposed to be joining you all too?”

Miguel stiffens, his grip on your shoulder a little firmer. 

“Not that I know of, no.”

“Perfect! He ruined my other boat and it took me ages to clean it up. Hopefully, you’re nothing like him.” Captain Barrett does a little pleading gesture with his hands. 

“Welp, follow me and I’ll show you on board!”

GymRat!Miguel who is still stunned by the amount of things money can buy when he sees the yacht. He’ll never get used to the life of luxury that Tyler introduces to him. 

“Holy shit,” Gabriel mutters as he stares up at the black and wooden beauty of the deck. Dana elbows in his side, telling him to be polite in front of the captain. 

“Welcome to Black Jack.”

There were crew members there to hand out fancy smoothies and grab everyone’s bags. 

You had seen yachts on some of your old high school classmates’ Insta stories but this was beyond. 

“I’d like to introduce you guys to the crew. They’ll be assisting me to give you youngins a good time.”

Captain Barrett ran down the line and you all greeted every person. Miguel made mental notes of their names. They’ll be getting close with all of the surprises he had planned for you. 

“And this is my son, Blake! He’ll be helping me up in the cockpit.”

Miguel stopped to shake his hand. 

He was like the textbook definition of a pretty frat boy. Tall, but not O’Hara tall, tan, and handsome. He smiled and showed a straight line of teeth, dimples peeking through. 

“Nice to meet you, Miguel. Kron’s really not coming?”

What’s with people asking about that dickhead today?

“Nope. Just us and our friends. If he does come, it’s news to me.” 

Blake went to shake your hand and it was like he started to glow under the sun. His smile went up to his eyes and he mimicked the heartthrobs in the movies Miguel’s cousins watched growing up. 

“And who’s this?”

“My name is-”

“My girlfriend,” Miguel said before you could even finish. 

You looked up at him in shock, laughing it off. “That too, but I have a name.” You respond to Blake and shake his hand. 

Miguel doesn’t like how his eyes scan your body. It was subtle, but he caught it. 

Even as you all finish up greetings, Blake is still making moves towards you. The type of flirting that probably flew over your head, but Miguel has been around enough guys like him to know exactly what it was. 

 “So is this your first time on a boat?” Blake asked you while he guided you guys to your room. 

“No, actually. But it’s definitely my first time on a yacht, especially one this huge.”

Miguel followed behind with Dana and Gabriel.

“Is this your first time on a boat?” Miguel mocked Blake quietly, mouth scrunched up. 

“‘La envidia esta flaca, porque muerde y no come,’” Gabriel replied. “You’re turning green from your neck, bro. He’s just being nice.” (Envy is thin, because it bites and does not eat.)

“No, he’s definitely flirting,” Dana quipped. “He’s not even paying the rest of us any attention.”

“Thank you, Dana. And Gabriel, don’t ever quote a Spaniard to me again.”

“How do you call that flirting? He’s not even-” Gabriel paused as Blake laughed really loud at something that you said with his hand guiding you way too close on your ass. “Ah shit.”

Miguel stomped towards you two, yanking Blake’s hand off of you and replacing it with his. 

“I think we’ve got it from here. You can show those two where they’ll be staying. Thanks,” Miguel nods his head towards Dana and Gabriel with a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. 

“Right,” Blake responds to him with a blank face. “I’ll see you up on the deck.” Blake winks at you before walking further. 

“Don’t kill him, Miguel,” Dana pats his shoulder as she walks by. 

“You’ve got my permission to hurt him if he touches me one more time though,” you say, snuggling close to Miguel and patting at his chest. 

“So, I’m killing him. Got it.”

GymRat!Miguel who watches you twirl around the VIP suite. 

“Miguel! This is so beautiful! Look at the view.”

“Oh my god! There’s a walk-in closet!”

“There’s a bidet! How’d they fit that and a shower in here?”

Miguel leaned on the doorway, watching you comment on every little thing. 

You made sure to start to spray everything with Lysol, a habit from your mom when traveling. 

While you were in the bathroom, Miguel got out one of his first gifts of the night. 

It was another keychain to add to your collection. He’s been working hard to have this weekend make up for the awful dinner night. 

He placed it on the bed and started to open his bag to grab his pajamas. 

“What’s this?” you ask, coming out to spray the bed. 

“Just a little gift for you.”

“Aw, this is so cute!” Your voice gets higher as you take in the little legos. “They even look like us! When did you get these?”

“I got them made about a week ago. You like them?”

“I love them! Thank you, Miggy.”

GymRat!Miguel who wants to moan when you walk out. 

You guys are going on a double date with Gabriel and Dana at a casual-not-so-casual restaurant farther in the city. That didn’t stop you from getting all dolled up. 

You walk to him on the bed, standing in between his legs. 

“Amor,” Miguel said, rubbing his hands up and down your backside. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you. So do you,” you responded, careful to not run your hands through his hair. It was a comfort for you, but you didn’t want to ruin it. 

Instead, you bent down to kiss him in the quiet of the room. The sun was still out, but a lot dimmer than before. Little patches of sunlight caught Miguel’s eyes. The color was so deeply brown, you swore you saw speckles of red throughout. 

He moved to sit you on his lap, glancing over every detail of your body. 

“You’re making it harder for me to want to leave.”

“It’s funny that you say that. You’ve been walking around like you’re straight out of a beach movie. Chest out and legs for days.”

Miguel blushed and put his head in your chest, bending you back and holding you so you won’t fall. 

“What are you hiding for? It’s true!” you laugh as Miguel seemed to burrow his face deeper. 

“Yeah, but you don’t have to call me out.” He was just trying to impress you, per usual. 

GymRat!Miguel who gets nervous on the way to the restaurant. It was one of those immersive experiences with projections on the plates that told stories with the meals. They were pretty cute to Miguel and he figured that all three of you guys would love it. 

The only thing is, he pulled some strings with Tyler to add an extra animation in there. He’s not sure how much that cost, but he’s glad he didn’t have to see the price. 

GymRat!Miguel who side-eyes Gabriel when he just about screams as the little chef walks across the animated place. 

“He’s so tiny!” he whisper-shouts. “So precious!”

By the time the first course comes out Gabriel is fighting tears. 

“Control it, Gabri,” Miguel says, rubbing his back. 

“I’m trying. I really am.”

GymRat!Miguel whose heart blooms when you laugh at one of the scenes. The little chef is squabbling with a giant shrimp and losing the battle. 

GymRat!Miguel whose heart speeds up when the special animation starts up. 

Only the two of your plates are lit up. There’s a river of chocolate that separates the two. From Miguel’s plate, there’s a little version of him that calls to your plate. He watches as your eyes grow when a mini you climbs on top of the plate and yells back. Your character throws him a kiss, sending a pink flutter across the river. The wave of it goes straight to mini Miguel’s heart who in turn, falls backwards dramatically. 

The real you lets out a watery laugh at the scene, eyes looking at Miguel briefly in shock. 

Mini Miguel jumps back up and gets to work, digging around the plate to grab biscoff cookies from the chocolate ocean to make a boat. While he works, your character wanders around the plate cutely, tidying up the area for his arrival. 

When the boat is finished, Mini Miguel uses a giant spoon to steer the boat, singing out brightly the closer he gets to you. The mini you is jumping up and down, cheering him on just like you do in real life. 

Once he gets to the edge of your plate, you lean close to give him a kiss. He climbs from the boat onto the plate and spins you around. You giggle in his hold until he lets you down. 

From there, he starts to use the spoon to drag a chocolate message across the plate. He takes confident steps, spreading the brown syrup across the plate with ease. 

“Tú eres mi luz.” (You are my light.)

When he finishes it, you both sit at the edge of the plate, feeding each other scoops of chocolate from the giant spoon. They both look up at you to wave, the Mini Miguel cheesing extremely hard as he waves both arms. 

The animation fades away in a wave of browns and pinks, the waiters bringing out the actual plates of food. 

The floodgates open when you’re presented with the same chocolate message, a slice of chocolate biscoff cake, and little chocolate decorations of the mini you and Miguel. 

“Oh my god, the spoon is here too,” you say with emotion, picking up a chocolate coated spoon. “Miguel!”

You don't know what to do. You keep fanning your face in hopes to stop the tears from coming out and ruining the light makeup you had on. Dana hands you a pointed napkin and you thank her while holding your head back. 

Gabriel is a mess, faces wet with tears. His cheeks are round as he blows out air to control his breathing. 

“I didn’t mean to make you cry, mi amor,” Miguel’s face is ridden with worry as he reaches across the table to grab your hand. He looks to Gabriel and sighs, “You either, hermanito.” (little brother)

“I’m good. I gotta just,” Gabriel waves a hand in front of his face cutely. “Just gotta get this out. If you’ll excuse me.” 

He gets up to shuffle to the bathroom. 

“I better go help him out. He gets a little delirious when he cries like that,” Dana says, rubbing your shoulder as she leaves the table. 

Miguel wastes no time to sit in Dana’s seat, taking the napkin from your hands and wiping carefully at your tears. 

“I love you. So, so much,” you say, resting your face in his hands. “Everyday, you find new ways to surprise me. I don’t know how you do it, but I’m just…”

You pause, waving your hands in the air, unable to express how you felt. Just thinking about it has the tears spilling over again. 

“Hey, hey,” Miguel chides, catching your tears again. “If you keep crying, I’m going to cry.”

“I can’t help it, Miguel! You made a cookie boat to get to me. How can I not cry?”

Miguel reaches to kiss your cheeks in hopes to help you subside the tears, “I know, baby, I know. But to answer your first thought, when I think of you, the ideas just pour out of me. You’re my first true love, so I don’t know all the ends and outs of a relationship, but I do know what it feels like to be loved. I just want to extend that feeling to you.”

You stare in awe and the man sitting next to you, eyes glistening as you take in his words. 

“I think I need another tissue.”

Miguel laughs as he grabs one to pat at your face again. 

GymRat!Miguel who feeds you bites of the cake while you feed him scoops of ice cream when you’ve calmed down. You can’t stop smiling for the rest of the night. 

divider by: @iwonbin 🩵

Part 9.2 here!

a/n: This is half of the chapter, but I had so much fun writing this! (mostly because I was not doing my actual work while writing half of it), especially Gabriel's silly ass. Like, it was super duper fun. Writing jealous Miguel was also great. There's so much stuff about reader that he was unaware of and I've been imagining him sitting at a table and yelling like Kendrick when it all plays back in his mind.

As always, like, comment, and reblog. Let me know how you feel! 🩵

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@maxlinpetersen

[daphwritesworld]

Chapter 3— Fool.

a/n: welcome back to the Be My Baby series! Sorry y'all, I left with some with friends and it went on waaaaay longer than I thought it would lol. I'm gonna break this chapter up into 2 parts so I can get it posted tonight. So an extra chapter will be added!! Chapter 4 will just be the part 2 of this one, and after that it'll be back on schedule. Oh and don't worry— chapter 4 will be out tomorrow btw!! that's where the big boy angst comes on. so y'all are safe until then. thank you for your support and happy reading < 3

(p.s. sorry I didn't proof read this again, lol. I will later & edit any details that need touching up. Again sorry this is late, but I hope getting part two and the Keira fic tomorrow will make up for it haha.)

content: sick!Reader, caretaker!Leah, straight up no smut (CRAZY I KNOOOOOW), mostly fluff, and some angst.

warnings: talks of not hydrating & eating properly, the flu, A&E/ER, confusion caused by sickness

synopsis: You wake up sick and you call the only person you can think of for help.

word count: 3.0k

Series Masterlist: here.

!! 18+ MINORS DNI !!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♥♠♥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The sound of your alarm doesn’t jolt you awake this morning. You’re already lying wide awake before it rolls around this time. You’d woken up early and your mind drifted to Leah, your whole situation together, barca, and the inevitable moment when they all come crashing together like a high speed train accident. Is it severely toxic and self destructive? Oh for sure…but who’s gonna stop you?

You stretch out your limbs as you set up in bed, turning off your alarm as you settle back into your own skin. There’s a rolling storm of anxiety filling your gut, and as your feet touch the ground it flies up to your throat. You run to the bathroom and barely make it to the toilet in time, emptying out your stomach contents. Which at the moment is just your bile. The sweating must’ve started when you were in bed; because you quickly notice the dampness of your shirt from the temperature drop in the bathroom. The cold tiles seep through Leah’s sweats and chill your body down. You shiver after a few minutes, staying seated on the floor as you take a moment to catch your breath.

You make quick work of going to grab your phone and sending your boss a quick message. As soon as it's sent you make your way to the shower. It's only when you bend down to take your pants off that you realize how sick you truly are. Your vision goes blurry and your head starts floating in and out of dizziness. You slowly lower your body, your hands making contact with the floor as you set yourself down. It's then that the headache starts— like your brain is pounding against your forehead on repeat. It's sharp and never ending, leaving you to crumble down into tears.

You don't have a car, and even if you did— you are in no state to operate a vehicle right now, and you definitely don't feel confident enough to order a taxi like this. So you are left with one option. One you know you're gonna regret when you're not sick and delusional, but it's the one thing your broken mind can think of���You call Leah. You crawl across the tiled floor and get your phone off the counter, dialing her number as you pray she picks up. And of course she does, because by the third ring her voice is greeting you through the speakers. "I knew you couldn't resist me, darling. I've just been wait—"

"Le…" you cut her off with a sob of her nickname. Your head is painfully throbbing now, and your mouth is so dry your throat is scratchy. She can tell just from the small amount of your voice she hears.

"y/n, hey— what's wrong? I'm on my way, alright? I'll be there soon, just stay on the phone with me," Leah's moving before the first word even leaves her mouth. She's leaving her breakfast on the table as she slips mismatching shoes on her feet. Running out of her flat with nothing but her keys and her phone in her hands.

"Something's wrong, Le. I'm sick and I-I..I'm sorry. I didn't know who else to call," your voice breaks at the end. It's like a knife plunging into Leah's heart as she hears it; the absolute brokenness of your words. She knows there's a deeper meaning behind your them, but she won't push it. Leah knows any of the girls would come to help you in a heartbeat, so what's got you believing otherwise? Or maybe the better question is, who has you believing otherwise? She'll investigate that later.

"Hey, hey, calm down. You're alright, love. Take a deep breath for me, okay? I'll be there before you know it, and we'll get you to the doctor," Leah's voice would normally calm you down, but your brain is still running a million miles per minute…and it's only making you feel worse. It's like you can't focus on a singular thought, and the confusion only fuels your distress. Leah presses down on the gas pedal when she doesn't get a response from you. She can only hear your cries filling up the empty space of her car. She gets to your building in record time, and only then does she realize she didn't bring her wallet.

"God dammit," she chastises herself under her breath, trying to not let you hear her frustration as she searches for a on-street parking spot. She just had to forget you live in a fancy ass building with paid parking, today of all days. "I'm parking now, love. I'll be up in a few minutes." Thankfully she gets one across the street, rummaging through her center console for some change coins. She puts way more than needed in the parking meter, but that's not her main priority right now. "I need you tell me if the door's unlocked, okay? I know you don't feel well, but can you unlock it if it is?"

You close your eyes as you take a deep breath, gathering all your mental strength to answer her. "N-No. There's a key under t-the welcome mat though…I don't think I can walk by myself. I-I'm so sorry, Leah," you can't stop the embarrassment from filling your body. You hate having to ask people for help— especially when you need it the most. It makes you feel weak, helpless, and like a burden. It's a deep seated insecurity you can't seem to shake, but it's not like you've really ever tried to correct it. We all know Leah's stubborn, but you? You can be even worse than her. It's not like you mean to be, but you're just…broken. In more ways than even you would like to admit.

Leah sees right through it though— she always has. She is the one person in your life that sees you for who you are. Not the persona you put up for the rest of the world. You two may of only spent a short time together that year ago, but oh what an impact it made. Spending every waking second with a person for weeks on end does something to a person. You either ending up hating each other, falling in love, or whatever the fuck you two got going on.

"You don't need to be sorry, y/n. You definitely need a better hiding spot for your spare though, that's just bloody awful! You're asking for a break in!" Leah feels herself get a little frustrated as she retrieves your key. Her voice picking up into a scolding tone as she jiggles with your doorknob. You whimper out as you move the phone from your ear, the slight rise in her voice making your head hurt more. "Too loud," you say as she walks into your home. She makes sure to shut the door lightly, before smacking herself in the forehead for raising her voice with you. "I'm sorry, love. I just worry about you. Now which room are you in?"

"My bathroom," your voice sounds so small now. Like a child getting in trouble.

"I'm on my way to you now, okay?" Leah says as she climbs the stairs. Her eyes flit over your walls and she notices the lack of pictures. You have bare hallways and they look so, so lonely. She walks into your bedroom and she sees the void of no decor or really any of your things at all. It makes her sad, but mostly it leaves her wanting to ask more questions. Questions she knows she can't ask right now, but will get the answers to someway.

Nothing could have prepared Leah for what she sees behind the wooden door of your bathroom. You're clad in a mist of sweat, all the color drained from your face, and you're shaking like a leaf. It isn't until she's running up to you and falling to her knees that she sees the extent of your state. Your pants are still sitting halfway down your thighs, and Leah quickly moves to redress you. She makes sure not to look at you inappropriately, only doing what's needed to get you comfortable and less exposed. She knows how vulnerable you are right now, and she's doing everything she can to make sure you're okay. She sheds her Arsenal hoodie off, sliding it over your head as she encourages you to push your arms through.

“Hey love, let’s get you stood up– that’s it.” She helps you get to your feet, letting you lean all your body weight onto her. Leah guides you back towards your bed, sitting you on the edge as she goes to grab a pair of your shoes. It doesn't take her long before she's rejoining you and sliding some slip-ons over your feet. she pats your legs when she's down, looking up to see your disheveled appearance. "You ready to go?"

"Mhm," you nod your head along. Talking is only making your headache worse, so you've opted for noises instead.

With that, Leah is helping you back up. But before you can rest your weight back onto her side, she's picking you up bridal style. Your arms instinctively go to wrap around her neck, burying your face in the warmth of her embrace. You don't have the energy to argue with her, and honestly it's a relief to not have to walk right now. She carries you like you weigh nothing, shutting and locking your door like she isn't holding an entire human being. If you didn't feel like death you'd be obsessing over how hot she is, but right now you're just thankful.

You must've fallen asleep, because the next thing you know you're waking up in a A&E bed. You blink a few times to adjust to the lights above you, small groans slipping out as you try to stretch the cramped feeling out of your limbs. Then you hear her softly speaking on the phone across the room, and you go back to lying still. You close your eyes as you focus on trying to hear her conversation. "I know I should've called first, but you didn't see her. She couldn't even stand on her own, and she fell asleep in my arms before we even made it to her building elevator! She's in bad shape, and I'm not just gonna leave her here all alone in a country she doesn't fucking know. I'm the Captain and it's my responsibility to look after everyone— I don't fucking care that she's not a player! She's on our team, our crew, and she deserves our support. Call me back when you get your head out of your ass," and with that she hangs up.

You try and force yourself to just back to sleep and forget everything you've heard, but of course that's not how things work out. Your stomach starts turning again, complicating feelings swirling around with the uneasiness. The tears come falling down your cheeks before your eyes even open, your chest starting to tighten up as the sobs claw at your lungs to get out. It feels like you can't breathe, and honestly maybe you aren't. Not as you see flashbacks of Barca passing through your memory, a wave of dread blanketing over your body.

"What hurts, love? Do I need to get the nurse?" Leah's by your side the second she notices, a hand out grasping your forearm. Her fingers dance little patterns into your skin, and it actually starts to ground you. "Come on, take deep breaths with me again, okay?"

You nod your head, and then she's holding both your hands. You follow her lead as she sucks in a slow breath and holds it, before exhaling just as slow. She repeats the process with you until you're calmed all the way down. It doesn't take too long, but honestly Leah isn't going to leave you anytime soon anyway. "Nothing hurts," you say it so softly she barely hears it. Your eyes stay locked down onto the bed sheets below you, never making any eye contact with her.

"Then why were you crying, y/n?"

"Because I heard you on the phone…and I don't know. I guess I freaked out, and went spiraling into a self hate hole for a second. I'm okay, really."

"oh bloody hell! I'm so sorry you heard that, darling. I should've went into the hall or something—"

"It's okay, Le. I'm just sensitive, and really really delulu from whatever sickness I currently have…plus it was nice to hear you stick up for me, Captain."

"The mystery sickness is indeed just a bad case of the flu…but uhm, the doctor said it was made worse from you being dehydrated and probably not eating enough from the looks of your blood work. I'm not gonna judge you or yell at you. But I am taking you home with me when they discharge you. I'm your official caregiver until you're well enough to take after yourself again," Leah doesn't let go of your hand as she says it. She tries to connect your gazes, but you don't allow it. Actively avoiding her eyes as you feel them burrowing holes into your skull.

You wish you could argue with her and tell her she's wrong…but you can't. You've been skipping out on meals ever since you moved here. It's not been on purpose, you just haven't been able to eat. It's like your body hates the idea of eating, always growing nauseous after every few bites. So you've been drinking some meal replacements…not enough apparently. "Okay."

"…Okay? Really? That was a whole lot easier than I thought it would be," Leah is staring at you with her biggest look of, 'be so for real, bitch' written across her face. But you just shrug as you sink back into the uncomfortable mattress underneath you. You're so mentally and physically wore out right now, there's just no fight left inside you. Right as you're about to re-close your eyes, the doctor finally comes back in. After getting the run down from him, he lets you know that you can be discharged and to pick up your antibiotics before going home. Leah helps you redress again, and this time it has you giggling at the way she makes her eyes go anywhere but at your naked body.

"Hold on…how'd you get the doctor to tell you what was wrong with me before I even woke up? Aren't there some rules against that?"

"…I might have told everyone that you're my fiancé," Leah smiles at you nervously.

"Fuck you, Williamson! Take yourself on that date Thursday!"

"Oh, so you're finally agreeing that it's a date?" Leah smirks at you, only hearing the parts of what she wants to hear.

"Well, I guess we'll never know, now will we?"

She rolls her eyes at you for that, holding her hand out for you to take. And you do, still leaning against her some to walk. She helps you to the car, and once you're both secure she's driving you to your new home for the next few days…or weeks. God you hope only days. It feels weird to be back inside a house with another person, and it's extra fucking weird that it's Leah. You know this stay is when you have to put down some boundaries with her. To stop whatever there is between the two of you. It makes the previous pit in your stomach increase by double, because deep down you know you care about her...you're just lying to yourself about it. You can push every feeling down your throat, but they will all come spilling out at some point. That's what you've learned to be true over the years, but will you accept that as truth? Hell no! At least not anytime soon. Your worst problem is that you always get in your own way.

When she finally gets you inside, Leah starts cooking and letting her mind wonder to think of you. More importantly to the phone call you overheard in the A&E. She'd been talking with her manager, and completely snapped on him. He'd said something about how Leah 'follows you around like a lost puppy' and well…. it hurt her fucking feelings. Of course she isn't doing all of this just because she's one sided sickly in love with you…right? Sure she thinks of you literally every second of the day, and she's been day dreaming of you for the past year, but that's all totally normal...RIGHT?

Leah doesn't get to spiral into her romanic crisis for too long, because before she knows it the timers going off. She drains the gnocchi before putting it in a bowel for you, making her way back to the living room where she left you. She laughs at the sight that greets her— you snuggled up asleep in her Arsenal hoodie she'd given you when she first saw you. Leah just sets the gnocchi aside on the coffee table, opting to cuddle you instead of waking you up. She pulls you onto her body, your face resting on her chest as she tries to adjusts you without waking you up.

She finds herself running her fingers through your hair, and before long they're running softy across the features of your face. Leah lets a deep sigh come out of her chest. She truly feels like a fucking fool. Leah doesn't chase girls— they chase her. So for the first time in this game, she is the one crying. She's clinging onto any crumb of attention you'll give her, and she'll keep doing it for as long as it takes. Leah has you sleeping against her chest once again, and it's nothing like she's day dreamed of. You two aren't confessing your feelings, running around town making memories, or god forbid actually dating…but she'll keep feeling like a fool and waiting on you. She'll keep searching for your love until she finds it, because she knows she's felt flashes of it. She knows that carefree, wild, truly happy girl from Ibiza is still inside of you somewhere. Leah doesn't know what took that extra bright sparkle out of your eyes, but she is determined to see it light up your face back up.

[vcnillazelda]

Hi! ^^ I don't know if you're still taking requests. I'm kind of new around here.

So If you can, I'd like to ask for headcanons or a scenario where Ghost / Soap / König has a crush on a recruit girl who is a very skilled sniper, but is constantly underestimated and even excluded by other military personnel for being short and mute?

ghost, soap and könig crushing on mute! recruit! reader

tags: pining, eventual relationship/getting together, confessions, protective! simon, könig’s is really long i’m sorry 😭

johnny and könig under cut

a/n: aaaaa this is adorable

✞———————❖———————✞

ghost

he’s nervous around you ngl

full on like palms sweaty and mild stammering it’s so cute

the fact you’re mute is kind of appealing to him, he likes your company because you don’t bother him like johnny does, you’ll listen if he speaks and offer some communication sometimes albeit his sign language is rusty

the moment he realised he’s in love with you is the first mission you went on. he’s seeking you out, knowing he can’t ask your location because you couldn’t respond. he gets a little anxious due to the lack of communication, it’s what keeps him sane, knowing his colleagues are okay.

he gets you a special radio so you can communicate better, putting an extra button on so you could beep it. one for yes, two for no, three for ‘i’m in danger’, yet simon’s the only one to know about that last one

is extremely impressed by your aim, the moment he saw a sliver of a man in a window you took him down.

back on base, he notices other rookies leaving you out of training, so you’d have no one to train with.

pulls you from that training session and offers private training with him (1. because he wants to help and feels bad you’re being ostracised, 2. because he wants to spend time with you and be close to you).

when he confessed to you and asked if you felt the same he thought it would be the end of everything, but you gave him a kind smile and nodded- simon has never been so happy

he’s nervous about dating, it’s been a long time and he’s not exactly a model lover or a ‘good man’, so you’ll have to be a little patient with him

soon after dating, he sticks around you all the time, hovering in your space whilst you’re practicing longer distance shots

no one dares to leave you out of anything when he’s by your side <3

-

johnny

he immediately befriends you, happily chatting away- he does enough talking for the both of you

doesnt realise you’re mute at first, he starts to think you don’t like him until you give him a note explaining your situation, he’s so relieved

people leaving you out? not when johnny’s here! he’ll argue with people before pulling you from that training group and into his own- he convinced price pretty easily due to your file being full of good comments from higher ups + your aim was incredible

is literally your best friend when you join 141 and then ghost team, he’s all smiley and talks for you

he doesn’t even need to communicate with you anymore to talk for you, he’s got a sixth sense for that type of thing it’s crazy

the moment he realised he loved you was when he was done arguing with someone about excluding you, then when he walked back to you, you had a sweet smile on your face, thanking him

because you’re short, he’ll 100% use your head as an armrest btw

he confesses in a pretty old-school way, a note, flowers and a sheepish grin on his face

when you hug him tight and nod he’s over the moon, scooping you into a bear hug and kissing your cheek

he’s much more straightforward and quick than simon, so if you feel your relationships moving too fast you’ve got to tell him lol

adores you and always praises your aim on missions

will always stick up for you, no matter what.

will want you to meet his family- and he comes from a large scottish family so be ready for that 😭

will get slightly jealous when you befriend his baby brother, agreeing to play games with him- this wasn’t meant to happen, you two just clicked and now johnny’s stuck between you two

gets all clingy afterwards, asking for your attention back- he’s so childish sometimes aidjdifjdfkdien

loves going out to places with you, so 100% your first date is in a nice restaurant tucked away in a nook in his hometown :)

-

könig

when he sees you being openly left out of things he genuinely feels for you, considering he was heavily bullied in school

he even gets left out of things now, and he’s one of the top snipers on the force

approaches you, hoping he doesn’t look to intimidating, and asks if you want to train with him

he’s dreading you saying no, but when you smile and accept he’s quite happy

he’s used to training alone, so there’s not much conversation as the two of you work on your aim

eventually, after a few training sessions, he strikes up a few conversations.

gets extremely anxious when you don’t respond, because he’s too busy looking down his scope to look at you, and drops it

you catch on that he’s put off and give him a small note explaining you’re mute

he’s so happy you don’t hate him because deep down he wants to be friends

soon after becoming friends, you don’t care that you’re being left out of things because you just blow them off and go hang out with your extremely tall austrian friend :)

the height difference between you two is very noticeable so some other operators start calling you two ‘big and small’ 😭

you’re the first person he tells his name to, he wants you to trust him and also wants you to know he trusts you

takes time out of his day to learn sign language so the two of you can talk easier, it’s really sweet to peer into his room and see him slowly practicing hand movements

the moment he realised he loved you was when the two of you were in his room, some soft music playing as you wrote something in your journal- you looked perfect in the lamplight and he wanted to kiss you

gets extremely anxious over the idea of liking you more than a friend, he doesn’t want to lose this friendship and has never actually dated anyone before considering he’s such a loner

he asks you out in a completely different way. leaves a note on your bed but isn’t there at all, doesn’t want to face rejection.

it’s easier on him because if you do reject him he can just pretend it never happened because he wasn’t there

when you sign the note saying ‘yes :)’ and leave it on his bed he’s so happy, immediately running to the practice range and hugging you

people ask what happened because it’s so out of character for him to hug someone, and he’ll just state that something good happened

is a very hands on, clingy lover. he’s never been in a relationship before and he didn’t realise at the time how starved he was for any type of affection that wasn’t maternal (he’s a mommas boy come on now)

speaking of which, if you agree to meet his mother he’s gonna kiss you immediately. is so delighted because off base his mother is the most important thing to him

she’s lovely too, never pressures you to talk despite not entirely understanding why you’re mute. gives you plenty of austrian food you’ve probably never had before and gives amazing hugs, she’s so happy her son found a girlfriend :)

[baptismbaby]

✿ SMITTEN

soft!ellie x reader

summary: you and ellie have been together for three months. you felt it was finally time to take the relationship a step further.

warnings: fingering (r!receiving). that's it rlly. super sweet and has some fluff.

a/n: super short, I'm sorry!! it's hard writing fluff for some reason lol. sorry this isn't my best work:( brain was refusing to work with me on this one. rewrote it three times.

wc: 1.7k<3

Ellie Williams was in love.

Her heart was so full and she always wore a smile no matter where she went. She felt like the luckiest girl in the world. You met Ellie a couple years ago when you moved into Jackson. The two of you quickly hit it off and became close friends. Wherever Ellie was, you were there too. It became a thing in your friend group. If Ellie was nowhere to be seen, you were bombarded with questions asking if she was okay. The two of you always went on patrol together and very rarely went with anyone else. Ellie knew she had feelings for you for a long time but hid it from you. It wasn’t until a couple months ago when you finally admitted your own. You two were at your place watching a movie on the couch but not really paying attention. Instead, you were talking about old relationships and flings. When Cat was brought up, you let it slip that you were jealous of their relationship. Ellie kept prodding you to tell her what you meant by that but you refused until she finally kissed you. The next day, she was already bragging to Jesse and Dina about how you were finally her girlfriend.

Although the two of you have only been dating a few months, it felt like it was longer. The only change since entering a relationship with Ellie was that the two of you would kiss, hold hands, and cuddle. You were happy and comfortable in your relationship with Ellie but wanted to take it a step further. You were at your house with Ellie, who sat on the bed watching you pack your bag for the week. You practically lived with her at this point, only going to your place to exchange clothes.

“You wanna watch a movie when we get to mine?” asked Ellie, her head tilted and wearing a smile. You grinned back at her and nodded in agreement. “Good. I already have something picked out. I think you’ll like it.”

“And if I don’t?” you teased, sending Ellie a playful smirk. Ellie got up, pressing her chest against your back and wrapping her arms around you. You giggled as she picked you up and fell back onto the bed, your body now next to hers on the mattress. She crawled on top of you and gave you a quick, sweet kiss.

“I actually don’t know,” Ellie finally said. “I just wanted to kiss you.”

You smacked Ellie’s arm gently, shoving her off and getting back up. “You’re such a sap!”

“Mmm, not really.”

“Then what was that?”

“What was what?” questioned Ellie, trying hard to hide the smile growing on her lips. You rolled your eyes and decided not to answer, continuing to throw clothes in your bag. Ellie got up again and grabbed you. “Oh, you mean this?” Once again you were thrown on the bed, Ellie hovering over you and planting kisses on your neck as you laughed. You got quiet when she nibbled on your neck.

“E-Ellie?”

“Hm?”

“What are you doing?”

Ellie pulled away, her face red from embarrassment. “Oh, sorry. I thought you’d like that,” she mumbled. The truth was that you did like it but was unsure what to say.

“Don’t be sorry, baby. It was nice. I just wasn’t expecting it.”

Ellie grinned, leaning back down to kiss you. You kissed back, wrapping your arms around her neck and pulling her to deepen the kiss. A groan came from Ellie’s throat when you gently tugged her short hair. You pulled away and stared up at her in awe. “What are you doing?” she asked this time.

“I thought you’d like that,” you replied.

“I do-I did, I mean. Yeah, it was nice.”

Ellie was suddenly aware of the wetness in her boxers. You looked so beautiful underneath her, your hair sprawled out around your head. Ellie wanted nothing more than to undress you and fuck you right here but that was something neither of you have even brought up yet. Ellie refused to ask because she didn’t want you to feel like she was pressuring you, meanwhile you were afraid to ask because it made you nervous. You were planning on mentioning it today and thought now would be the perfect time.

“Do you think we could… um… try something new?”

Ellie’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you wanna try, babe?”

“I was thinking that… um,” you trailed off, suddenly realizing how embarrassing it would be to ask. Even though you trust Ellie and you’re comfortable with her, you felt shy.

“C’mon, tell me,” Ellie urged. “You know you can tell me anything.”

You pouted and hid your face behind your hands. “God, this is embarrassing!”

“Sex?” Ellie suddenly asked. You peeked through your fingers and shrugged.

“Kinda? I’m not sure if I’m ready for sex sex but other things, yes.”

Ellie grinned and rolled off to the side of you, holding herself up with her arm and using her tatted one to pull you closer to her. “You want me to start?”

You nodded. “Yes, please.”

Ellie leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, then your cheek, nose, other cheek until she made it to your lips. The kiss was slow at first, her tongue brushing against your bottom lip so she could put it in your mouth. It became passionate, almost sloppy and desperate as her hands traveled down your body and stopped just above the waistband of your sweatpants. “Take this off,” she whispered against your lips. You lifted your hips off the bed and shoved them down quickly, revealing a black lacy thong. You usually wore boy shorts. Ellie glanced down at your panties and took a double take, her mouth slightly open in shock. “Fuck, babe. You put this on just for me?”

“Mhm,” you replied.

“Such a sweet girl. You should wear these more often.” Ellie stuck her hand down the front of the lacy thong and rested it against your heat. She could feel your slick gathering all over her fingers before she even had a chance to dip them between your slit. She moaned softly, feeling her own cunt grow wetter. She placed her middle finger on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. She chuckled at your reaction and started to move her finger in a circle, paying close attention to your facial expressions. You hid your face in her shoulder as soft whimpers escaped your lips.

“Hey, don’t hide from me,” Ellie cooed. “I wanna see my pretty girl.”

You rolled your head back and made eye contact with Ellie, her face slightly red and her lips upturned in a smirk. “Is this what you wanted, honey?”

“Mhm!” you whined, bucking your hips forward as she picked up the pace.

“Does that make you feel good?”

“Y-Yes, Ellie.”

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

Ellie’s lips collided with yours once again, another sloppy make out session as she teased your hole with her finger. She finally slipped one in, causing you to moan loudly in her mouth. She pulled away to listen to your sounds of pleasure. It was almost pornographic how filthy you were being, moaning out a string of cuss words and repeating Ellie’s name over and over again. The sound of your wet pussy combined with your obscene noises made Ellie want to ruin you. But she knew better than that, it was the first time the two of you ever did something like this. She didn't want to rush anything. She was fine with moving slow. She loved you so much.

Ellie stuck another finger in, your tight cunt squeezing around her digits as a knot built in your stomach. You could tell you were close but wanted to hold on for as long as you could.

“E-Ellie,” you moaned.

“Yes, baby?”

“I-I’m about to-”

"Let go, baby," Ellie interrupted. "Cum for me."

As the feeling in your stomach grew stronger, your climax getting closer and closer, you couldn’t help but to say the three words you haven't said to Ellie yet. “I-I love you!”

Your orgasm finally hit, your legs trembling and your back arching. Ellie talked you through your orgasm, mumbling praises and saying how much she loved you. She took her hand out of your panties and laid down beside you.

“You don't know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that,” whispered Ellie. You looked over at her, a smile growing on your face as you tried to catch your breath. Ellie wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer. “You did so good, baby. Do you feel okay?”

You nodded, still unsure if you could even speak. Your throat felt sore. You tried to raise up to get water but quickly laid back down again, your body too weak to move. Ellie chuckled. “You need something, honey?”

“W-Water," you responded, your voice slightly raspy. Ellie looked around until her eyes landed on the water bottle sitting on your dresser. She reached over and grabbed it, opening it up for you and raising your head up so you could get a drink. She set it back down once you finished.

“M-Much better,” you said after clearing your throat. “That was really good, Ellie. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

The two of you laid there silently, holding each other close and thinking about what just occurred.

“Ellie, I meant what I said,” you vocalized. “I really love you.”

Ellie smiled, her tummy fluttering at your words. “I love you too, dork.”

You huffed. “Hey, don’t call me dork!”

“You're my dork,” Ellie continued, ignoring the soft blows to her shoulder. “You wouldn't be so mad if it wasn't true.”

“Oh shut it, Els,” you laughed. You rested your head on her shoulder and held her tighter. You wanted to ask if you could return the favor. You wanted to make Ellie feel good too but you were getting drowsy, your eyelids growing heavy. You gave in and shut them, falling asleep a couple minutes later. Ellie’s smile never went away. She couldn't stop thinking about you admitting you loved her too. She was one lucky girl.