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lovifie · 7 months ago

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Well, I Wasn't On That Tunnel ❤️

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Please don't look too much into the plot holes. Canon can suck my ass, I'm making my own, xoxo 💋

Pairings: Ghoap x Reader.

Warnings: Poly relationship, mentions of death, mentions of guns, rotating POV (mostly Simon's), Spoilers → amnesia, smut, voyeurism

“THE TUNNEL IT'S COLLAPSING! FOLLOW MAKAROV! I'LL TAKE JOHNNY OUT!”

That was the last thing Ghost heard of you.

It's been months since Johnny and you were declared KIA on that mission.

You weren't even meant to be inside, you were the medic, you were supposed to wait outside.

But the moment Makarov shot Johnny he panicked.

Ghost panicked.

And Simon panicked.

You came in running, panting for the effort of carrying with you the medical bag half your size.

You were the one who told them to run. To go after Makarov and kill him.

You were trying to wake up Johnny, Ghost knew it was a lost cause. He couldn't find the pulse, he was gone.

His Johnny was gone.

The last thing he expected was that he was about to lose you too.

Once outside, he kept looking at the tunnel. Waiting for you to come out, whether it was dragging Johnny's body or alone; it didn't matter. You needed to get out.

But after the tunnel collapsed and you didn't get out, it was Price who finally pushed Ghost away.

He barely remembers getting back to base, doesn't remember what Price kept telling him on the helicopter, doesn't remember skipping meals for days, doesn't remember crying himself to sleep for weeks.

But he remembers your face, he remembers Johnny's face.

Oh, what a coward he was.

Two people that he loved, that found their way under his skin right into his heart. Two people that Simon wanted to grow old next to, two people that made Simon want to wake up every morning.

And he was still not brave enough to confess his feelings to neither of them.

He used to stay awake late at night dreaming about how he would do it. After a long time of debating with himself, figuring out what those feelings inside of him were.

Until he figured out it was love, only to them have to face the complex situation of loving two people at the same time.

But even how complicated of a man Simon Riley was, when it comes to his wants it all turns simpler. If on the menu there are two dishes that he likes? He is getting both, obviously. Why choose?

So if all his lonely and twisted life he had never loved anyone, now he suddenly fell in love with two people. He wasn't going to give up one of them and their love just for society's norms.

Murder is also against society’s norms, and he gets paid for it.

But it was too late now.

Maybe it was for the better.

He could lie to himself, agree that he never confessed because it was not his destiny.

Not because they would have not loved him back.

Not because they would have been scared of him.

Not because they wouldn't have been able to see past his mask.

Not because they would have rather dated each other than him.

It's easier like this.

Simon knows how to mourn a loved one.

What he doesn't know is, how it's possible he got a message from you this morning when you died four months ago.

You are stepping out of the shower, skin warm from the water and baby hairs sticking to your forehead; when someone knocks on the bathroom door.

You furrow your eyebrows at how hard they knock, the whole door shaking with it.

“Calm down, I'm almost finished.” You grumble, pulling the towel around your body.

You drag your feet over the towel on the floor to walk closer, and open the door annoyed by the insistent knocking.

“I told you I am almost finish-” Your words are cut off by the barrel of a gun right on your face.

You don't even have time to panic, because you immediately recognise the stupid skeleton gloves holding the gun.

“Simon?” You whisper,scared that if you talk any louder he will disappear. Price and Gaz are behind him, slowly lowering their gun when they see it's you.

There is a glistering layer over Ghost's eyes that if you didn't known any better you'd think are tears.

You push his gun down, the man still immobile as if you were the ghost; and you jump into his arms, circling his neck with your arms.

“It worked! It finally worked!” You exclaim, tears slowly running down your cheeks. “I have been trying to contact any of you for months, it finally fucking worked!”

Ghost struggles to tell whether you are laughing or crying, a mix of the two. But he can't focus on that, he can only focus on your skin under his gloves.

God, how he hated his gloves right now.

He bites the tip of his finger, pulling the glove off spitting it somewhere. And he snakes his hand under your towel.

He knows is improper, perverted even; but he needs it. He needs to feel your warm skin under his palm, your heart beating loud and fast.

He surrounds your waist, hands big enough to rest on your ribs, right under your chest.

Boom, boom… boom, boom… boom, boom…

He sighs, melting onto you, his tears getting absorbed by the mask on his face. He hugs you tighter, daring you to slip from his fingers again.

He bites his lips, copper taste on his tongue, to prevent himself from sobbing.

But the sobs can be heard, and Ghost it's almost disappointed with himself until he notices your body shaking.

It's you who is crying.

And he panics again, pulling back to look at you and you cup your face, apologizing.

“I'm sorry. I tried my best, I really did.” He can barely understand what you are trying to tell him between sobs. “I'm sorry, I'm sorry.”

He shushes you quickly, he understands; the survivor’s guilt is a special kind of poison. But he understands, he feels it too.

“It's alright, love. You are alright, everything is going to be alright.” He hugs you again, resting your head on his chest. Mourning Johnny will be easier if you are together, he now hates himself for thinking you were dead; for accepting it.

For mourning you for months and now having you on his arms.

Warm and breathing.

He can only imagine what you went through.

You entered the tunnel because he called for you, and then he left you inside with a corpse.

How did you get out?

How did anyone see you get out?

How did you find a house?

How did you survive alone with the guilt?

Are the scars on your shoulder for getting out or were they always there?

Were you trapped under the debris?

For how long?

But that doesn't matter, he knew you were strong. That you were clever. That you were better than him.

He already knew that.

Gaz and Price remain silent, reading in the situation that there is something underlying that they don't know. Letting the two of you, have your moment.

It's only when Gaz hears the almost unnoticeable steps get closer that he moves, turning his body and almost dropping his weapon in the process when he sees him.

“Johnny?” That's all he is able to see.

And that's all that is needed to hear.

Price and Ghost whip their head around like they have been smacked, coming face to face with the man.

There are still bandages on the side of his head, he looks thinner, less muscles, sunken eyes and dark bags. But it's Johnny.

A scarred, angry Johnny.

Holding the pistol on his hands pointing to Ghost's head.

Looking at him as if Simon was his greatest enemy.

“Johnny…” He tries to talk to him, keeping you behind his back by instincts.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP! WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?” Johnny shouts, his hands are shaking.

That explains it, why he look like a madman, why he looks so scared under the rage, why he keeps trying to look under him.

“Johnny, it's alright.” You finally say, moving from behind Ghost, softly pushing his arm back. You walk ahead, still only on the towel; and you walk up to Johnny. You rest your hand on the pistol, pushing it down with ease.

You raise your other hand to the men, the signal of “wait”.

Johnny looks at you with utter confusion, eyes shaking moving around your face for any kind of explanation. His hand move around you, checking for any damage; the hand that doesn't have the gun clinging to the towel.

You cup his face between your hands, the man bending down slightly to make it easier for you to reach; you whisper something to him making him relax almost immediately.

And then you kiss him.

On the cheek, right beside the nose making him close his eyes for a second.

But it feels like a stab on Simon's heart.

He tries to think rationally, you were just calming him down. He knows Johnny is always desperate for physical contact, that's all. Nothing else.

He really tries to think logically, but logically the two of you are dead and buried under a tunnel. Not standing at the end of the hall, kissing and comforting each other.

Something about it, about the possibility there is something more going on between Johnny and you; sends Simon's inner gears spinning.

He sees the virtual space between the two of you, slowly getting in the shape of his body.

You whisper something to Johnny, he nods, touching your forehead with his for a second, before walking back. Looking at Simon with hate on his cerulean blue eyes.

You sigh, watching Johnny move and turn to the three still shell-shocked.

“As far as I can tell…” You whisper, once you are close to them. “He only remembers up to when he was 20, little more, little less.”

“So he doesn't remember anyone?” Price asks after a moment.

You shake your head. “Not that he hasn't asked me about, he asked about some people but I don't know them. He thought I was a nurse when he woke up.” You explain.

“What happened in the tunnel?” Gaz asks, looking behind you to check Johnny is not back. “How did you get out? And him? He was dead.”

You shake your head again. “Not yet. Almost… but not yet. I-”

“Bonnie! You want coffee or tea?!” Johnny's voice makes everyone jump.

“Coffee, please!” You answer without skipping a beat and turn to them. “I'll explain it later, alright? It's not the place nor the time.”

Price nods once. “Get dressed, I'll contact the pilot to let them know we are flying back tonight, right?”

“Roger that.” The three of you reply almost by muscle memory.

“I'll be fast, don't rile him up.” You say, before entering the bedroom closing it behind you.

Ghost feels Price's eyes on him.

Wondering.

Asking.

What's between you and him?

What's between you and Soap?

What's inside his mind?

“Tea is ready.” It all gets interrupted by the amnesiac man calling them to the kitchen.

They walk together, sitting around the table. Gaz and Price find it almost easy to talk to Soap, about how happy they are to see him again, about how they are flying back later, easy chatter.

But Ghost can't.

Not when Soap finally smiles at Price making fun of Gaz's cap and Ghost's breath is knocked out of his chest.

That's his boy.

Breathing and warm.

Just like you.

He knows it's the universe talking, telling him not to fuck it up again.

Still, he feels his heart sink every time Soap looks at him with such a sour look. Offended even. His boy.

That would jump at any opportunity to impress him, to earn his respect, his affection. Now locked like he wanted to stab him on the chest, twisting the knife in the process.

He knows it's because of you, the way the man stared at his hand as you pushed it out of the towel didn't go unnoticed by Simon.

Not the greatest first impression.

Does it count as a first impression if he has known the man for years?

You walk into the kitchen not much later, Johnny's eyes lightening at seeing you; his saviour.

You walk past Ghost, your arm resting on his shoulder as you bend down to slightly knock your head against Soap's.

And that's it, that all Simon's needs. To be involved. He doesn't need to be in the middle of you two, he is fine with being in the sidelines, but he needs to be a part of it.

He knows you are on his side, you remember him unlike Johnny. You can be the bridge to get him to Johnny; to keep Johnny from running. Make a pack with him; keep the two of you close.

A turmoil of emotions keeps spinning inside Ghost's head, all the versions of himself wanting to be right.

The part of him he thinks is unable to love telling him to let the two of you alone, you are better of without him.

The part of him he thinks is unable to be loved telling him to not even try, save himself the rejection.

The part of him that is still unsure of what even are his feelings telling him to not get involved, that it would only confuse the two of you.

But then there is also that part of him. The part called Simon Riley; that still holds onto the chance of loving and getting love.

And he looks at you and Soap, the way Soap looks up to you. The way he used to look at him.

“Let's pack our things up, Johnny.” You say, patting Soap’s back. “The sooner we are back home, the better.”

And you smile at Soap so kindly, so wide, so warm.

He understands how you managed to calm Soap down. Waking up from what he assumed must be something close to a coma after getting shot on the head, not remembering anything, in pain, alone. And then you appeared, so soft and so kind.

He wouldn't blame Johnny if he was already in love with you, with you being literally the only thing he knows since waking up.

Johnny stands up, walking out of the kitchen but looking back to make sure you are walking behind him.

The two of you disappear down the hall, voices low as you move away.

“I can't believe they are alive…” Gaz comments, sipping his tea.

“Neither do I…” Price answers, sipping his. “Bloody necromancer…”

And you are, Simon was also dead before meeting you.

“I'm gonna check on them.” He says, downing the beverage on a gulp that burns down his throat.

He stands up, Price and Gaz look at him as he does. They are going to talk about him as soon as he gets out, but he doesn't care.

He has made his choice.

He loves you.

He loves Johnny.

He walks down the hall, seeing the door ajar.

His hand reaches the knob when he hears it.

His blood running cold.

“Johnny…”

It's your sweet voice moaning the name.

The unmistakable sounds of kisses inside the room.

“I don't like how he looks at you, bonnie.” The man whispers, his breathing unstable.

“He's your best friend, Joh-Ah!” You moan, interrupting yourself as you speak.

“I don't care! I don't know him. You are mine!” The man grunts, the sound of skin slapping slowly becoming more and more clear.

“Johnny…” You moan again, and Simon is sure that he can hear your cunt squelch around Johnny's length.

He opens the door the slightest bit, just enough for his eyes to see the way Johnny has you bent over on the bed.

With you laying on your stomach on the bed, legs hanging from him without strength to push yourself up. Johnny behind you, a foot on the ground and the other on the mattress as leverage to keep sinking into your weeping cunt.

Neither of you bothered to take off the clothes, simply lowered the pants enough for Johnny to get inside of you. Your pants pooling on your ankles, legs limp with the rhythm Johnny has settled.

Simon wishes he could see your face, pleasure painted on your expressions with your face buried on the mattress. Johnny keeps your hands on your back, keeping you pressed against the bed. But the only thing he can see is Johnny's back.

So he sees perfectly fine when the man turns his torso around, still thrusting into you, and looks at Simon.

He looks straight into Simon's eyes, who panic just for a second for getting caught peeking into their room, into them together.

But the Johnny smiles, not the adoration-filled smile he used to gift Simon with. Instead, is the smile filled with pride that he only kept for after winning a match or catching an enemy.

Johnny raises his hand to show him his middle finger.

As he mouths “Fuck you.”

And Simon wants to laugh.

Johnny wants to play?

Then they'll play.

Game's on.

@waiting-so-long

Taglist: @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @kayden666 @dumb12bvtch1212 @thatonepupkai @darkangel4121 @risingofjupiter @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock @marymustdie @arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk @reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat @lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @cod-z @jaguarthecat @savagemickey03 @fraserbraw @rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @viisgrave @theloneshadow24 @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting @dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 @katreintjie @sacvh @mothymunson @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr @yuki2129 @mikaronn

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3minsover · 3 months ago

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Steddie who keep missing each other. Who aren't in love at the same time. It's neither of their faults; they're just not quite in touch, in tune with each other.

Sure, Eddie had a stupid huge embarrassing crush on Steve throughout junior year, senior year and senior year 2.0. Sure, it was made so much worse when in Steve's first and only senior year, Eddie found himself sat in math class diagonally behind the fallen king. He'd watch the way his hair moved when he ran his hands through it in frustration. He'd see the shift of muscle under his shirt when he bent down to pick up a dropped pencil. And every time Steve would smile, flutter his lashes and pinch his eyebrows, say; "I'm sorry sir, I just don't know", Eddie would find himself shifting in his seat, nipping at the skin on the side of his finger, knee bouncing under the desk. They didn't really talk beyond 'hey's in the corridor, beyond 'did you do the homework?'s - to which Eddie would without fail stutter out an 'Uh- so, no. I meant to- Just, uh. No.' and Steve would without fail flash a soft smile, bump his shoulder into Eddie's and whisper 'Me neither.'

It got easier, after Steve graduated. Eddie still saw him around, still recognised his car in the lot when he was giving Robin Buckley from band a ride to school. But it wasn't so immediate, wasn't so raw. And after a while, the butterflies would fade. He'd be able to meet Steve's eye across the Family Video counter without feeling his mouth go dusty and his heart leap into his throat.

Steve hadn't realised his feelings for Eddie were anything more than friendly, until he graduated high school. Without the daily glances across the classroom, the moments he'd always take to make conversation, it felt emptier. It gave him time to think about the way his chest would tighten at Eddie's shy smile whenever they talked. Steve hadn't realised he might be allowed to feel something softer than 'dudely bro-ship'.

That is, until it fades so the only time Steve sees him is when he drops Robin off at school, or when he comes in to family video to rent Halloween again. Steve's heart prickles at the sight of him, but after a while, Eddie's visits drop off.

Steve tries to keep himself busy, grateful for some time without inter-dimensional battles or Russian agents trying to kill him. Thoughts of Eddie drift to the back of his mind, for almost six months. And then in the spring of '86, Steve finds himself thrown against the splintered wall of a nondescript boathouse on the outskirts of town. And it's Eddie Munson from Math that has a shaking, jagged bottle held up to his throat. It absolutely doesn't awaken things in him that he never knew he could want, absolutely not.

But regardless, he's staring half-terrified into the dark, watery brown eyes of Eddie Munson from Math, and all he wants is to reach out and smooth a palm over his cheek. He wants to curl his hand around those trembling fingers and tell him it's all gonna be okay. Of course, it isn't. Steve doesn't get much of a chance to talk to Eddie over the next week, what with some vampire soul-sucker guy terrorizing the town, and Max getting possessed and the whole thing going entirely to shit. But he finds himself drawn inexplicably into Eddie's space, splits off with Eddie and has the girls pair up and then Eddie calls him 'big boy'. And his entire world stops spinning for a moment. For just a second, it's just the two of them, and Eddie's face is so close to his, his smile so wild and beautiful.

The whole world stops, before it rockets back into thrilling, terrifying motion.

In the fear and the panic of the final Vecna showdown, Steve has to thrust his feelings back down deep. He can't let shit like a crush get in the way when the lives of the people he loves most are at stake.

It all happens so fast, and before he knows it, Max is in a coma, Eddie's been torn up to within an inch of his life, there's no certainty that Vecna's even gone, and he doesn't know what to do.

For days, Steve sits by Eddie's bedside when he can - when he's not with Max - only sleeps when he does. He silently begs for Eddie to be alright, feels guilty for every thought he has that isn't about Max. He begins to resent how desperately he pines for the moments when Eddie's awake, and after a week, once it's clear that Eddie's going to recover, Steve doesn't visit him anymore.

With all the feelings that are getting jumbled amongst the multitude of all the other horrible nasty fragile things that are writhing around inside, Steve forces himself to shove any thoughts of Eddie down, to get over him. And before he realises, it's been weeks. He's still worried for Eddie, of course he is. The guy almost died in Henderson's arms. But now the world's not actively ending, now he has a moment to breathe, he wonders whether the sparking, shimmering thing that had his mouth going dusty and his heart leaping into his throat was the same thing that had him saying all that shit to Nancy in the upside down.

He can't trust that it's not just a trauma response.

After Eddie recovers, slowly and with more help than he'd ever admit he needed, he sees Steve again. But he's distant. Friendly, but impersonal. An acquaintance. Things are as they were before. It hurts, but he knows all too well that any of the flirtation, the playful teasing and longing looks can only be chalked up to the fear of the end of the world.

It's a couple months before Steve tells Eddie he's going to college out of state. He's leaving in a week. And everything that had been laying dormant for so long comes bubbling up to the surface.

"Shit, I wish you'd given me a little more notice, Harrington," Eddie says, trying desperately to keep the heartbreak out of his voice.

"I'm sorry man, I just. It all happened pretty fast and like if I didn't do it now, it wasn't gonna happen, yknow?" Steve shrugs awkwardly, runs a hand through his hair.

If I didn't do it now, it wasn't gonna happen.

"It's gonna be a damn sight harder to like you this much when you're that far away," Eddie's mouth says before his mind can catch up.

"I like you too, man, but hey, I'll be home for Christmas. You can catch me up on everything I miss, huh?" Steve bumps Eddie's shoulder, just as he used to when they were leaning against the lockers back at school.

"No, Steve. I- You're, I mean. I like you. In a- Like I have, I totally have feelings for you, dude," Eddie forces out, watching his sneaker as he kicks at the ground.

"Eddie..." Steve says softly, and it just breaks Eddie's heart even more. Because that's a let-him-down-gently 'Eddie'.

"No, no it's- Don't sweat it man, just sorta had to tell you before you- Anyway. Have fun at college. I'll- I'll be here when you come home."

"Eddie, wait. I'm sorry. I just..." Steve begins, looks so pained, reaches to take hold of Eddie's shoulder. He avoids it, ducks out the way. And then Eddie leaves, before Steve can try to do something awful like making him feel better or tell him it's okay.

Eddie doesn't see Steve again before he goes to college. Hears from Henderson over the next few months how he's getting on, all the babes he's dating, the assignments he's trying to actually do before the deadline, and Eddie forces himself to smile, crack a joke, whatever.

Slowly, he extricates himself from conversations about Steve. Doesn't want to hear it, but can't tell anyone why. So he finds excuses; he has to take a leak, just remembered he promised Wayne he'd pick up groceries, got band practice, whatever he can come up with. He doesn't even hear Steve's name, tries desperately not to think about him (and fails), until December.

Until the evening of December 24th, when there's knock at the trailer door. With Wayne already asleep, Eddie drags himself from the couch to pull the front door open.

Eddie's met with a coat-wrapped, scarf-muffled, bobble-hatted Steve Harrington standing on his doorstep. He’s rocking back and forth on his toes, arms crossed tight around his chest, hands tucked under his arms. His cheeks are pink, the tip of his nose pinker still, nibbled by the cold. He’s just as beautiful as the last time Eddie saw him, and it jerks his heart into frantic motion against his ribs.

He’d thought he was over Steve, that seeing him again would be just like what it is; welcoming home an old friend. Except all Eddie wants to do is take hold of Steve’s frostbitten cheeks, pull his face towards him and kiss him like it’ll erase all the months of pining that had gone before.

Of course, he doesn’t. Instead, he just balks, says "Steve? What are you-?"

"I had to see you. I’m sorry if this is like inappropriate or if you don’t wanna see me- Dustin said you seemed like, mad at me or something. And honestly I can’t blame you, really. I shouldn’t have- it’s not that I didn’t, that I wasn’t. What I’m trying to say, Eddie, is that I know it’s too late. I know I missed my shot. But I haven’t stopped thinking about you for the last four months."

"Steve-"

"I know I have no right to do this to you. But it was killing me, man. Because I think I might have- I think I might be-"

"Me too," Eddie interrupts. His mind’s whirring and tumbling, trying to gather up the pieces of Steve’s fragmented confession. Steve’s jaw hangs open just a little, paused halfway through a word. "I thought it’d gone away. Thought I’d gotten over Steve Harrington," Eddie continues with a sardonic little shimmy of his hands, "but uh, seems you’re a little harder to shake than I thought."

"D'you, d'you want to shake me? Off, I mean," Steve asks, dipping his chin and looking up through thick lashes, a shy, self-conscious suggestion of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips.

"No. no I don’t."

"Oh thank god. 'Cause I don’t know if I’d survive that," Steve exhales, his small smile spreading into a grin. He rocks forward onto the balls of his feet again, and Eddie finds himself pulled into Steve’s orbit. It doesn’t matter that he’s just in his socks and the doorstep is damp with cold. Eddie crosses the threshold and curls his fingers gently around the lapels of Steve’s coat. Eddie’s struggling to breathe, little puffs bursting forth from his lips and clashing in the air, mixing with Steve’s own.

"Can I-?" Eddie asks, doesn’t dare say the word aloud in case Steve’s not on the same page; gives himself an out if Steve’s not where Eddie’s at. Where he’s always been at, really. It just wasn’t quite at the right time.

"Yes. Please," Steve breathes, sweet frosty breath swirling gray-white around in the thin, chilly air between their faces. Slowly, giving Steve plenty of time to back away, change his mind, Eddie draws Steve towards him, tips his chin until their noses brush. the very peaks of their lips touch, and Steve’s breath hitches at the contact. It’s the prettiest sound Eddie’s ever heard. Eddie sips in a breath, hardly daring to move, and lets Steve nudge their mouths together.

Finally.

Their lips press softly together, and Eddie feels Steve’s hands come to grip at the sides of his sweater, bunching it at his waist. He pulls Eddie towards him, moans softly, just the tiniest hint of voice slipping out and into Eddie’s mouth. A new prettiest sound.

Suddenly aware of their very public, very chilly location, Eddie stumbles backwards, pulls Steve inside with him. Steve follows enthusiastically, kicking the door shut behind him with his heel, lips never leaving Eddie’s for even a moment. They’re entirely wrapped up in each other, even as Eddie frantically unwraps Steve’s cold-proof clothing, lost completely in the feeling of their bodies pressing together.

They took their time, to get here. But now that they are, here is where they’ll stay. It won’t be easy, being apart for long stretches while Steve’s away at college, but now they’ll have a little something of each other’s to keep hold of until they’re together again.

They’ll have the promises they made each other that night, the words whispered against skin, the kisses pressed and breath shared. They’ll have the silent, precious exchange of one heart for another. And that will see them through.

#steddie #mutual pining but not at the same time #steddie ficlet #fanfic #3minsover #steve harrington x eddie munson

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kpopfanfictrash · 11 months ago

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Jingle All the Way Collaboration

Coming your way this holiday season! Whether you've been naughty or nice, you'll have seven fics to unwrap by @kpopfanfictrash , @leahsfavefics , @kithtaehyung , @yoonia , @cybrsan and @sugaurora.

All second chance romance. All holiday themed. All attempting to utilize the same quote: "The holidays aren't so bad with you around." Come down the chimney, embrace your inner Vixen, and warm up this season with the Jingle All the Way collab!

Content Creator: all amazing banners are made by the truly spectacular @kithtaehyung!!

(Links to be added as fics are posted)

Title: The Ten Days of Ex-Mas

Author: @kpopfanfictrash

Pairing: Jimin x Reader (f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; hockey player au, second chance au, oh noo there was only one bed

Summary: Three months following the worst break-up of your life, you finally feel ready to start moving on. The world, it seems, has other ideas when you pick up the phone and find your ex-boyfriend calling.

Jimin Park, star right winger of the NHL and (until recently), the love of your life, has a very large problem. Despite the courage he regularly shows on the ice, in his personal life, Jimin is kind of a coward. When you broke up this fall, he could barely admit it. Not to his neighbors. Not to his friends. Not even to his family, who are expecting him home for Christmas. In a desperate plea for more time, Jimin begs you to pretend you’re still dating – and to his surprise, you agree. Faced with a second chance, Jimin is determined not to squander it. If only fixing a relationship were as easy as falling in love.

Posting Date: December 19th, 2023

Title: All I Want for Christmas is Joon

Author: @leahsfavefics

Pairing: art historian!Namjoon x art historian!reader (f)

Rating/genre: m (18+) angst, fluff, smut, second chance au

Summary: You have had a rough year following the mutual break up with your grad school sweetheart. On a whim, you book a spontaneous trip to Europe for the holidays to help get you out of the funk you’re in and assert your independence. It would be great, if it weren’t for the fact that you keep bumping into your ex boyfriend.

Posting Date: December 21st, 2023

Title: Back to December

Author: @kithtaehyung

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; brother’s best friend au, wedding au, second chance au

Summary: Ever since you left town to pursue your dreams, life has fast forwarded into one big blur. so when you hit pause to attend your brother’s wedding exactly three years later, your brain instinctively resets and rewinds. because you have to spend it with the very person that had been there at the start. the one person you regret leaving behind.

Posting Date: TBD

Title: A Christmas Fix

Author: @yoonia

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+), secret baby au, s2l au, fake dating au on the side (more on that later)

Summary: One-night stands are supposed to be nothing more than just. It shouldn’t have involved seeing those two red lines looking back at you weeks later without a name or a contact number linking you back to your mystery man. Nothing more but his face. The unforgettable face that would sometimes appear in your dreams at night. So unforgettable that you immediately recognise him the moment he walks into your family home at Christmas, hand-in-hand with your older stepsister.

Title: Everwinter

Author: @kithtaehyung

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; ex-fwb 2 lovers au, second chance au

Summary: You told him you loved him, and that was a mistake. Because years later, you both meet up with your old friend group for a holiday trip, and neither of you have forgotten that.

Posting Date: TBD

Title: Miracle of the Season

Author: @cybrsan

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Rating/Genre: M (18+); angst, fluff, smut; angel au, second chance au

Summary: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. Just when you think things can’t get any worse, a familiar face pops up and you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

Posting Date: December 29th, 2023

Title: A Porn Star's Guide to the Holidays

Author: @sugaurora

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader(f)

Rating/Genre: M (18+); smut; second chance au

Summary: Jung Hoseok was your first love, a relationship that ended only because your post-high school dreams led you down two very different paths. Yours brought you to Jeon Jungkook, an innovative talent agent promising to produce the most well-loved adult entertainment artists of the era. And that’s how you became an erotic market darling, doing just about everything from outdoor gangbangs to golden showers and a long list of kinks in between.

Ten years later and you’re ready to find a new path, celebrating your exit from the business with one last appearance at the biggest adult industry convention of the year. Only when you arrive, you find yourself unexpectedly face-to-face with your high school sweetheart. Suddenly, you’re forced to confront where the years have taken you and feelings that may have never quite gone away.

What’s a former porn star to do?

Posting Date: TBD

1K notes · View notes

flowerandblood · 4 months ago

Text

The Lost Haven (7/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: uprotected sex, incest obviously, smut, the angst, manipulation (partly unintentional), violent description of suicide attempt (blood), injection of a sleeping drug, violence, imprisoning, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He could have become a father.

Could was the key word in his life: he could do a lot of things theoretically, but for the most part the line between what was accessible to him and what was not was clearly drawn.

He couldn't escape the world that was consuming him.

He couldn't change who he was.

He couldn't marry his niece, at least in the light of social morality.

But he could become the father of her child because she hadn't taken the pill.

This news thrilled him so much that for a moment he forgot that his own father was dead.

And the complications that came with it.

Looking at his body in the morgue, he thought that perhaps a good thing had happened: Viserys looked sick and tired, his face expressing relief.

He was with his first wife now, the one he really loved, he thought with regret, and felt a squeeze in his heart, seeing his niece's face in his mind then, as she laid beneath him, panting loudly, seared, warm and wet only for him.

He grunted, shifting from foot to foot, recognising that he shouldn't be thinking about it right now.

Only Rhaenyra, Helaena and his mother wept over his body.

Neither he nor Aegon shed a single tear.

The next day he felt excited like a small child and terrified at the same time: it was the first time he was to see the University from the inside, to talk to the professor and on top of that, to see her, again.

If it worked out, they would study together.

Perhaps they would even go on excavations, just like when they were children.

Maybe there was some part of their lives that they could get back.

He texted her that he would come and was relieved when he spotted her silhouette waiting for him in the car park. As soon as he stepped out of the car he felt uncertainty and fear, wondering if this was a good idea.

What if his grandfather found out?

If he was putting her and himself in danger?

He involuntarily reached into the pocket of his jacket, wanting to soothe himself with a cigarette.

"There's no smoking allowed on University premises." She said, furrowing her brow, making his hand drop in a gesture of helplessness and impatience.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yes. Let's go. We'll find my professor in the teachers' common room, he's just having a break between lectures." She sighed, ignoring his tone and demeanour, moving ahead.

He had to admit that the whole campus impressed him: the lawns and the huge park around which the gigantic nineteenth-century brick building towered were full of students sitting on the grass, reading books and talking to each other.

They had no worries except their exams, he thought regretfully, concluding that they didn't even know how lucky they were.

The conversation with the professor was overwhelming for him: he had never been able to find himself talking to strangers, even less so when he couldn't leave or defend himself when he heard a difficult question.

The man sitting in front of him was not a man transporting cocaine by ship, but an old man with big glasses who was telling him that if he were able to participate in the excavations, part-time studies would be possible for him.

"Well, if that's the case, then please prepare yourself for the exams. Then we'll see what comes of it." Said the professor and stood up, nodding, letting them know that their meeting was over.

"Is that it?" He asked in disbelief, looking at her with big eyes, wondering if it was a joke, but she only smiled.

"Yes." She replied. "Thank you, Professor."

As they left, he felt discomfort at the thought that he didn't know how to act. He guessed that he had interrupted her class and should leave, but that meant there was no telling when he would see her again.

He wanted to simply spend some time with her, but he didn't know how.

"If you'd like, I'll wait and drive you home." He said offhandedly, glancing at the poster hanging on the wall right next to him, hiding his hands in his trousers so she wouldn't see them tremble.

She blinked and looked at him, surprised.

"No need. Mum will pick me up." She muttered quietly, as if embarrassed. He felt an unpleasant sting of disappointment at her words and in a subconscious reflex he wanted to hurt her because of it, if only a little, to be sure she felt what he felt.

"They pick you up and drop you off like a little girl?" He asked with a sneer, glancing at her, but the smirk disappeared from his face when he noticed the way she looked at him.

She was angry and bored.

"Ever since someone put a rape pill into my drink, yes." She said coldly, and he froze, thinking he was an awful person.

How could he forget about it, say something so ill-considered after what had happened to her?

He suddenly realised how it worked in his mind, how he reacted involuntarily to pain wanting to automatically cause it to another person, even if they didn't deserve it.

This thought terrified him.

Some part of him wanted to make it up to her, to prove that there was a part of him that wanted to change.

"Do you know who did this? I can take care of it. For your comfort." He asked, feigning indifference, involuntarily scratching his chin, unable to look her in the face.

"Larys Strong."

He looked at her, furrowing his brow.

"What?"

"I already told you. He was telling me about my father."

"But it wasn't him who put it into your drink, it was one of his people, right?"

"He asked me if I wanted a drink. I said no. Then he ordered water for me. I took a few sips from it and struggled to get to the bathroom."

He looked at her, feeling how slowly a picture that seemed to him to be just scattered shards suddenly came together, the fact that Larys had dragged her there was never supposed to be an accident, and his grandfather knew about it.

This is the last time you interfere in their affairs.

They hoped she'd call for Daemon.

That, knowing his explosive nature, there would be a shootout in which they would kill her step-father before Viserys died, so that he and his half-sister's businesses could then be easily taken over.

"Son of a bitch." He hissed out, feeling that he was breathing heavily through his mouth, that his hands were clenched into fists, that his heart was pounding like mad.

Only after a moment did he realise that his niece was looking at him with big eyes, horrified that what was happening in his mind had not escaped her attention.

"Don't interfere. Go home." She said, making him feel a squeeze in his heart for some reason.

"And when are you going to teach me?" He mouthed, realising only after a moment that he sounded like a little boy. She shook her head, as if she didn't understand what he was saying.

"What?"

"For the exams. I need you to help me. How do I reconcile what I have to do at night with studying if I don't know where to start?"

He watched as she sighed heavily and ran her hand over her face, praying that she would agree, that she would not abandon him, that she would not leave him in the dark room that was his heart.

His little lamp.

Yes, he thought, feeling a pleasant, gentle warmth in his chest.

That's what she was to him.

"Okay. Okay, I'll help you. I'll pass you the study books somehow." She decided at last, distraught and tired, making him swallow loudly with relief as he looked down at her.

He wanted to touch her.

He wanted to embrace her, to kiss her, but it seemed inappropriate.

Not after what he'd done to her.

"Can I touch your hand?" He asked in a trembling voice, feeling like an idiot, a weak, quivering child begging for a moment's attention, a moment's tenderness.

She looked at him in a way from which his throat tightened with affection, her hand extended towards him made him grasp it in his own.

He watched, breathing hard, elated as his fingers entwined with hers in a pleasant, soft embrace, her skin warm, smooth and soft, exactly as he remembered it.

He felt both moved and aroused at the same time by this sight, by the feeling of her bare body in a way that was not purely sexual, yet so intimate, private, reserved only for someone close to her.

"Walk me out." He whispered.

To his delight, she didn't let go of his hand until they reached his car. He couldn't find the words to say goodbye or thank her for what she'd done, feeling only shame, so he just got in the car and drove away.

He knew it was wrong.

He knew it was wrong and he couldn't stop.

The forbidden fruit tempts most, he remembered her words and swallowed hard, driving ahead in silence, wondering if that was indeed all this was about.

The thought that maybe not terrified him, because it meant that there would be no moment in his life when he could let her go, allowing her to live at last.

It meant that he would devour her, choke her in his own darkness.

The next day, everyone was nervous: the meeting with the notary was going to be groundbreaking. Otto was certain that Viserys had divided his wealth equally between each of his children, which would mean that Rhaenyra's share would also belong to Daemon.

"I don't think he would leave his daughter the brothels or the clubs where the crimes took place to avoid burdening her. This means that a real estate company and our money laundering business could fall to her. We will have to make steps to take it over, peacefully or not." Said his grandfather when he spotted him standing by his car alone having a cigarette.

He nodded, feeling discomfort and uncertainty, not knowing what he should answer.

"You are not yourself since the death of your father. What's happening to you?" Otto asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, making him press his lips together in displeasure.

Another fucking interrogation?

"I'm tired." He said coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette impatiently, looking at his family home, wondering if his father would take it away from his mother.

"Where were you the night he died? When Aegon woke up, you were not in the room."

He froze in mid-motion, letting out a loud puff of smoke through his nose, feeling his lower lip begin to tremble, his heart and stomach clenched in fear.

He couldn't remember if he had ever felt peace.

Maybe then, that night, when he felt the warmth of her body and fell asleep beside her, drunk and happy, he thought with regret.

"With my niece."

Otto laughed low, shaking his head.

"This is no time for jokes, Aemond. I don't want you to hide anything from me." He said slowly and calmly, as if trying to explain something to a small child.

He looked at him in a way from which his grandfather's expression changed, twisting in a grimace of shock and disbelief.

"Good God. What did you do to her?" He mouthed.

He grinned involuntarily at his question in a way from which Otto swallowed hard and clenched his eyes.

"Have you completely lost your mind? What has that poor girl done to you, hm? What if she tells her parents, accuses you in front of everyone? For God's sake, you're her uncle." He hissed quietly, stepping close to him and looking around, as if he wanted to make sure no one could hear him.

For some reason his dismay, his disgust, his disappointment gave him satisfaction.

The fact that he was arousing such feelings in him and other people seemed to him the most natural state he knew.

"We were just talking. About the past and the future." He lied, knowing that his grandfather didn't believe him, that he'd seen in his gaze what he'd done to her, what he'd done to her twice, and how fucking pleasurable it had been for him.

He decided that he wouldn't try to explain to him that she had peaked with him each time.

He wouldn't believe him anyway.

"We'll talk later." He hissed as his mother, Helaena and Aegon came out of their house, saying they were ready.

When they arrived Daemon and Rhaenyra were already waiting for them inside in a large, spacious office with windows overlooking the great city skyline. The notary greeted them, offered them coffee and tea, and then showed them to their seats.

He tried not to look at Daemon, feeling his gaze on him, knowing what he thought of him and that he had every right to do so.

He felt bad about it, but fuck, he wanted to be close to her and have a family with her.

He wanted to be able to love her.

Just her, just this one time in his life.

Was he asking for so much?

The notary, in the presence of the lawyers of both parties, unsealed the envelope in which was secured his father's last will, which he knew he had consulted with his grandfather.

Nevertheless, he felt anxious, felt the cold sweat on his back, a complete, tense silence all around them.

And then he began to read.

"I, Viserys Targaryen, present my last will as follows. I bequeath our family home to my wife, Alicent Targaryen, which will belong to her until her death, and then pass according to her will to one of our children. I bequeath all my other estates and properties to my children Aegon, Aemond, Helaena and Daeron to be shared equally between them. All of my investments and all premises under my business that I owned I pass to my daughter, Rhaenyra."

He stared at him dully, feeling as if he had gone completely deaf, his heart beginning to pound like mad as his hand clenched into a fist, his grandfather beside him twisting in his chair, shocked.

"This is some kind of misunderstanding." Otto said, on the other side Daemon laughed out loud, hiding his face with his hands.

He mocked them, he thought.

His father had mocked them for the last time.

He didn't understand why he felt tears burning under his eyelids, why his lips were trembling, why he expected anything else.

His appreciation, his trust, a gesture that would indicate that he understood what he was doing to ensure the well-being of their family.

Did he really think that he was taking money out of people by force, that he was cutting their faces to please his grandfather?

Yet it meant nothing.

Everything he did, everything he became apparently only made his father disgusted.

Because he was disgusting.

They all were.

"Unbelievable. We're not going to leave it like that. I'm sure this is Daemon's doing. FUCK!" Growled his grandfather, sitting in the passenger seat beside him, slapping his palms against the dashboard of his car.

He drove ahead, feeling a complete emptiness, feeling neither disappointment nor anger, wondering if he should pull over and hit one of the trees.

He wanted his father to see him as a cold, unbreakable man, one who would always defend his and his family's interests, one who could make sacrifices.

And he didn't even notice it.

All the wicked things he did turned out to be worthless.

He destroyed himself for nothing.

He had nothing.

In his mind, in his heart, in his wallet.

A fucking property by the sea.

"We will attack their family. If our clients find out, no one in the industry will care about us. We have to show strength, we have to act." Otto said, and he swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

We will attack their family.

We have to act.

His grandfather called a meeting in his office, which was to be attended by him, his brother and his mother. He paced around the room gesticulating, speaking quickly, Aegon as well as his mother sat in their seats flooded with tears.

He thought they looked pathetic.

"We need to give him a warning. Force him to come out with another, more acceptable offer for us." Said Otto, circling the room with his hands placed on his hips, analysing everything.

"You saw him. He laughed. He knows that he won." Mumbled Aegon, all swollen from crying.

Otto stopped and pressed his lips together.

"Leave me and Aemond alone." He said finally, making him freeze, his heart pounding like crazy.

Some premonition told him what he would want from him even before it left his mouth.

He was not mistaken, and as soon as his mother and brother left, his grandfather began to speak.

"Does Rhaenyra's daughter trust you?"

He stared dully ahead, answering him with a protracted, uncomfortable silence, feeling like throwing up for some reason.

"Aemond."

"No."

"No, what?"

"Don't drag her into this."

His grandfather pressed his lips together, leaning over him, resting his hands on his armrests.

"She's been dragged into this for a long time. If we don't take our chances, someone else will." He said calmly, making him feel an unpleasant sting in his heart.

"You knew."

"What?"

"That Larys had plans for her."

"I knew that he would act. Daemon's presence on the scene isn't to his liking."

"He put a fucking rape pill into her drink." He said coldly, clenching his hands into fists.

"It wasn't about rape there, at least that's my opinion. However, now, if he sends his people to her University, I cannot vouch for what will happen to her. With us she will be safe. We would lock her in a room in our house for a few days and treat her with respect as if she were our guest. My issue is with Daemon and Rhaenyra, not with her. Her harm is not my desire."

He looked at him, feeling a void in his mind, no longer knowing for himself what he thought of this, what was right and what was not.

"Are you going to let everything you've worked so hard for be taken away from you? For this man to laugh in our faces? What are we to use to maintain the estates your father left you? Even if we sell some of it, how many years will it last? We have to think about our future. I trust you to do the right thing."

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, thinking with disbelief that if he didn't, the part of himself that he had lost, that he had killed to become who he was, would turn out to be a sacrifice in vain.

Some part of him naively wanted to believe that she would understand.

"Only me and Helaena will have access to her room. I will be by her side the entire time, and my duties for that period will be taken over by someone else."

Otto smiled in a way from which he felt discomfort in his stomach and nodded, patting him on the shoulder.

"That's my boy."

He looked at his phone, at the message he'd sent her while sitting in his car two streets from her house, wondering how he could be doing this to her.

She wanted to help him change, she made an attempt.

Perhaps she was pregnant.

Hundreds of feelings mixed in his head, fear, grief, disgust, sadness, hatred and despair devoured him from the inside, forming one black mass from his thoughts.

She's not coming, he thought with a strange calmness.

She was not naive.

Daemon had certainly warned her not to trust them.

He'll return home and tell his grandfather that it just didn't work out.

But what will happen to them then?

They will have nothing to buy new goods with, or they will buy them, but they will have to raise their prices.

They will stop being competitive in the business.

They will lose customers.

They will go out of the game.

They will cease to count.

They will have no way to pay the police.

They will go to prison.

He shuddered, hearing rustling and someone's footsteps, his eyes big when he saw her breathless, flushed figure, her dark, loose hair in disarray.

She looked so beautiful.

He opened the door, unable to believe that she'd run away for him, just for him, watching as she pulled her backpack down quickly and handed it to him.

"Take this and get out of here." She muttered, but he only looked at her lips, parted in accelerated breath, soft and full.

He thought with horror that he wanted to feel her.

He wanted to be reassured.

He wanted to make love to her.

"– come here –"

"– I have to –"

"– come –"

"– I –"

"– it won't take long –"

Her gaze full of warmth, affection and trust, her parted lips, her hand that allowed him to pull her closer made him feel like his cock would explode with desire.

"– good girl – such a good girl –" He praised her when she sat on his lap at last, closing the door behind her. He slided his hands to his belt, panting hard, releasing his fat, long erection, leaking with desire at the mere sight of her.

He could only watch in disbelief as she took off her shorts, wordlessly allowing her to guide the thick, glistening head of his manhood against her slit, all pulsing with heat, slowly sinking it into her body.

He gasped at the ease with which she welcomed him into her warm, moist interior, how simple and proper it seemed.

It made him forget for a moment who he was and what he was supposed to do.

All that mattered was her, her face, her eyes, her forehead pressed against his, her warm buttocks under his fingers, her swollen, sweet lips, her slick tongue invading between his teeth, her little cunt that convulsed around his throbbing cock in ecstasy.

"– fuck – fuck, baby –" He muttered, unable to express otherwise how good she made him feel, why his hips were pounding into her so fast and so greedily, why he couldn't slow down, why he wanted it so desperately.

"– ah – G-God –" She mumbled, making him gasp, pleasant, tickling warmth in his lower abdomen.

Her soaked pussy squeezed and sucked him inside, making him pant loudly into her puffy lips, feeling his whole body grow hot, in some subconscious, natural reflex returning to where he felt good, where he felt safe: back deep, deep inside her.

He knew it wasn't just about sex: there was too much tenderness in in their movements, the touch of their hands too thoughtful and too gentle, too soft, their embrace too close, too intimate, their moans too helpless, too vulnerable.

"– Aemond –" She mewled into his throat on the brink of orgasm, bringing her clenching, moist, fleshy walls to the point where he felt a squeeze in his testicles, indicating that he was close too.

"– do you hear it? – do you hear how well you take me? – only you – fuck –" He gasped, listening to what he was doing to her, to his own niece, how loudly her sweet, little cunt clicked as he rooted into her again and again, how perfect she squeezed his cock, how warm she was, how wet she was, for him, only for him.

"– where? –" He muttered, wanting to be more responsible this time, slamming into her with a quick, sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, helplessly chasing his own fulfillment that he so desperately needed.

He didn't want to hurt her.

Never.

"– here – right here, uncle –" She breathed out and something in her words, in the way she said them made his body quiver as he reached his peak inside her, panting hard along with her. He gasped, resting his head against the backrest, trying to be quiet, feeling their bodies pulsate and shiver against each other.

He snuggled her face to his neck, feeling a wonderful pleasure and relief as his warm seed filled her insides at last, her scent, her closeness, her hot, pulsing interior calming him.

It felt so good.

So right.

"– I think I'm in love with you –" He whispered in a trembling voice, stroking her bare buttock with one hand, sliding the other between the seat and the gearbox, feeling the needle syringe under his fingers, from which he slipped the cap.

I'm sorry.

He heard her draw in a loud breath at his words, but he didn't let her answer.

He was afraid he would change his mind then.

"– forgive me –" He mumbled in trembling voice, heartbroken, her body tensed all over as he jabbed the needle into her neck and let the sleeping drug spread through her insides.

She whined quietly, terrified and surprised, reminding him of a small, innocent animal. He embraced her, feeling the remedy take effect after a moment, and her body relaxed in his embrace, a faint, weak cry escaping from her lips.

I'm sorry.

"– shhh – shhh, sweet girl –" He hushed her tenderly, feeling his whole body tremble as tears of shame, disgust and regret ran down his cheeks along with the knowledge of what he had just done to her, his soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

He used her because she trusted him, because she wanted to help him, because she really cared about him.

He sobbed quietly, closing his eyes, and cuddled his face against her neck, feeling her fall asleep, thinking that he wanted to take it back, that it was a mistake, a mistake, a mistake, that he just wanted her to forgive him.

Maybe he could carry her home?

Leave her at the gate and run away?

But what if someone found her unconscious, what if she fell ill from the cold, what if someone abused her in his absence, hurt her?

He realised that there was no way back.

Despite this realisation, he treated her body with gentleness and tenderness: he lifted her and slid out of her slowly, placing her shorts over her hips, laying her on the seat beside him, fastening her seatbelt. He took the unruly strands of hair from her face with his trembling hand, looking at her through tears, whooping with his own cry.

He thought she would never forgive him for this.

When he got home he went inside through the back door, carrying her in his arms, cradling her to his chest. He told his bodyguards that no one was to disturb him, ordering them to inform his grandfather that everything was sorted out.

"Aemond?" He heard his mother's voice behind him and stopped in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder with big eyes.

His mother was looking at him with her mouth open, disbelief and horror in her gaze.

"– Aemond – what is she doing here? –" She muttered, placing her hand on her chest, trying to calm herself down, breathing loudly as if she were going into some kind of panic attack.

"– we'll sort it out, Mum – don't worry –" He whispered. His mother furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"– you kidnapped an innocent child –" She said with regret and pain from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

She was disgusted with him.

He understood her.

He longed for her to think of him like that.

He desired to suffer.

"– yes –"

He took her to the room where he had spent his entire youth until he moved into his flat and laid her gently on his bed, sitting down beside her, covering her carefully with the duvet. His hand rose slowly and hesitantly to finally stroke her soft hair, her face calm, immersed in deep sleep.

Vhagar, whom he had taken with him from his place, rose from the floor and ran up to them, sniffing him and the newcomer he had laid in his bed.

"– good girl – you will watch over her with me now, hm? –" He asked, stroking her soft fur.

Vhagar squealed, shifting from paw to paw beside him, concerned, as if she sensed that her sleeping state was not natural, something in her scent, in the drug he had given her made his dog restless.

Even she knew what he had done to her, he thought with regret.

He pulled off his shoes and placed them on the ground, laying down beside his niece, putting his arm around her. He pressed his forehead against hers, inhaling deeply her scent, letting his fingers run over the soft skin of her cheek, thinking that he was surely doing this for the last time in his life.

He felt a sting in his heart at that thought, his eyebrows arched in pain as he pressed her body against his, weaving his hand into her hair, burying her head in his neck, trying to calm himself.

"– I will always watch over you –"

In the morning he was awakened by her babbling: she was mumbling something under her breath, her hand clenched on the material of his black Tshirt, he could feel her trying to stand.

"– shhh – lie down – don't get up –" He whispered in a trembling voice, feeling only horror, only despair, only shame.

She would never forgive him for this.

"– where – mghmm –" She muttered, involuntarily falling into his arms again, recognising him and his scent, her fingers closed on his back, snuggling into him in a tender embrace from which he felt his body begin to quiver.

"– easy – easy, little one –" He said, kissing the top of her head again and again, her hair wonderfully soft and smooth under his hand.

"– what's happened? –" She asked, and he remained silent, as he had no idea what to answer her.

His lack of words clearly worried her, for she raised herself on her arm again: she looked around, her gaze hazy, dreamy, her brow furrowed as she did not recognise where she was.

"– Aemond – what's going on? –" She asked wearily, slowly understanding that something was wrong, her breathing louder and heavier, her eyes large and filled with fear.

He lifted himself onto his arm, moving closer to her, his free hand stroking her cheek as he pressed his forehead to her temple.

"– forgive me –" He whispered in a weak, trembling voice, thinking he sounded pathetic.

She sucked in a deep breath and squealed, covering her mouth with her hand as if trying to stop the sound, her eyelids clenched shut as she cried out loud, bursting into tears.

"– oh, baby –" He muttered pleadingly, kissing her red, plump cheek, embracing her tightly despite her hands trying to push him away. "– it will only last a few days, I promise –"

She pulled out of his embrace, moving away to the other end of the bed, looking at him with wide eyes, catching her head with her hands as if she couldn't believe what was happening, her mouth parted wide in a heavy, terrified breath.

"– I – I let you – you touched me, and then you – oh God – oh my God, no no no no no no –" She whimpered hiding her head between her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was trying to create a fortress, and he could only sit and watch, trying to remember that he needed to breathe.

"– we just need to talk to Daemon – I promise no one will hurt you –" He muttered quickly, but it seemed to him that she wasn't listening to him, plunged into complete hysteria.

"– I helped you – I ran away for you – I brought you books just as you asked – so why did you do this to me? –" She mumbled out, choking on her own tears, her fingers clenched on her hair as if she wanted to rip it out.

He felt like he was drowning, like he was sinking deeper and deeper to the depths with every breath.

"– I know – I know, baby, I'm so sorry – but my father left us no choice – fuck, I know you understand me –" He choked out with difficulty, looking at her hopefully, for some reason naively believing that she would find justification in her heart for his horrible act.

She, however, looked at him dully and froze, her trembling hands raised at the level of her cheeks, her lips parted in a half-breath.

He was sure that she was going to say something, that she was going to shout in his face that she hated him, that he was a monster, a nobody, a disgusting creature, everything that he so needed to hear in order to find himself in the state to which he always returned in the end.

She, however, turned her back to him, hugging her body and face to the wall, tucking her legs under her chin and froze so still.

"– Rhaenys? – please – please, say something – I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear –" He mumbled, trying to touch her calf, but she flinched and moved further away from him, as if his touch had burned her.

He burst into sobs, thinking that her silence, her wordless rejection was worse than any word from her, and he was like a child who longed for the parent he had failed to look at him with a sympathetic eye again.

"– please – please, say something –"

But she said nothing.

For the next few days she did not look at him, she did not answer his questions, and when he tried to touch her she moved as far away as possible, hiding her head between her knees.

He took away her phone out of fear that she would try to contact someone and all the things out of his room that she could use to hurt herself or others.

She ate and drank only the things Helaena brought her.

When he tried to feed her, she would snatch things from his hand and throw them at the wall.

On the one hand he felt rage at that moment, a subconscious need to hurt and punish her, and on the other he felt relieved because he wanted to suffer, because he knew he deserved it.

"– you have to eat –" He sighed, looking indifferently at the big stain of soup on the wall and the shards of the broken bowl thinking it was them.

Like the shards that couldn't be put back together again.

"– what did it feel like, cutting their faces? – did you feel like the Mighty Vhagar then? –"

Her voice, cold and harsh surprised him and made his heart stand in his throat, his body stop breathing for a moment, as if expressing its desire to die of shame.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, feeling that he was trembling, and met her gaze, sad, tired, aloof, embittered.

"– I had no choice –"

Lie.

"– you are lying –" She stated dispassionately. "– I don't want to see or hear you – I want you to pretend that you don't exist, just like you did with me for eight years – you're good at it –"

He lowered his gaze, feeling a complete void in his mind at her words, and got out of bed, kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces of the broken bowl as if nothing had happened.

The only being she touched was Vhagar.

He watched from the sidelines as these two slowly established a relationship with each other. His niece would reach out to her, lying on his bed, and his dog would lean out and sniff her from afar without touching her, looking at her with big eyes.

Vhagar did not like strangers and was fussy, but apparently her calm approach and the fact that she did not impose herself on her made his dog express interest in her. When she would get up to reach for one of his books on the shelf, Vhagar would rise and follow her, keeping an appropriate distance, looking at her curiously.

She would lie down in her place only when his niece sat back down on the bed.

He first saw them lying together when he came home late one evening. He had shopped for her, bought her favourite sweets knowing that she would not eat them anyway, and when he walked into the room he saw her lying with Vhagar on her dog bed.

She was crying and cuddling into her fur as if she was a big teddy bear, and his dog, despite the fact that she usually got up at the sight of him, just looked at him with big eyes, not moving from her place.

Something about the sight broke him, and although he knelt down next to his niece and wanted to touch her back, he stopped mid-motion when he heard his dog growl at him for the first time in his life.

She knew.

Daemon and Rhaenyra's fury was great: the very next morning after it turned out that she had disappeared there had been an incident at one of their clubs, where his sister's husband had stormed in with her son and several men, threatening to shoot everyone present if he did not find out where his daughter was.

As planned, it was relayed to him that their child was safe and that Otto was waiting for contact from him when he had cooled down to discuss everything calmly.

As proof that they were not lying, they gave him her backpack – the same one in which she had brought him books.

Due to what happened, after his father's body was burned, there was only a short funeral ceremony in the cemetery, attended only by his mother and sister: his grandfather was afraid that Daemon's men, who had been watching them all the time, would lead to a shooting if they appeared there even for a moment.

Despite his niece's reluctance, he spent his days in her presence, sitting on the mattress on the other side of the room where he slept at night. He knew she didn't want to feel him next to her, but he preferred not to leave her alone knowing how frightened she was.

He suggested several times that they could go out together for a walk in the garden, but she didn't even look at him.

She was simultaneously closer and further away from him than ever before.

One night he was roused from sleep by someone's scream: he pulled himself up on the mattress, involuntarily reaching for the penknife in his sweatpants and looked around the room, only after a moment noticing her shivering figure sitting on his bed.

He sighed quietly and swallowed hard, trying to calm himself.

"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" He whispered, and she twitched at his words, turning towards him, looking at him with big eyes, all drenched in tears.

"– did you have a bad dream? –" He muttered, but she answered nothing, her lips parted in a heavy breath, her fingers clenched on the sheets.

"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered, rising slowly from his seat, tentatively approaching the bed. She raised her shoulders in a defensive gesture and moved away a little, but when he sat down next to her and raised his arm she didn't push him away.

Slowly he placed his hand on her shoulder and stroked her skin reassuringly, with the other cuddling her face into his neck.

"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –"

She was silent, and he prayed that this moment, her warm body in his embrace, his nose snuggled into her soft, fragrant hair, would last forever.

"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out finally, startling him, his stomach knotted tight in discomfort and horror.

"– no – don't say that – it won't take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, forcing himself to be calm, stroking her shoulder and back with one hand, the other combing his fingers through her hair, rocking her in his arms like a small child.

"– you broke my heart –"

Her words, the way she said them, what they meant made him gasp aloud, trying not to burst into a sudden sob of despair and grief.

He had broken her.

"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, tentatively kissing her warm temple, her cheekbone, her ear, everything that was familiar to him, beloved to him, his.

"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"

"– I don't believe you –"

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, feeling a sort of high-pitched, trembling squeal come from his throat as if he were a little girl, tears one by one began to run down his cheeks to the top of her head, his fingers tightening on her delicate flesh.

"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, sinking his face into her soft, warm cheek, feeling that he was not the only one who was crying.

Her body trembled in the embrace of his arms, her small hands clenched on his shirt in a gesture that testified at once to her anger and her suffering from which his heart was breaking.

"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She howled into the skin of his neck, and he burst out sobbing at her words, not knowing how he could react differently to what she had said.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, cuddling her tightly into him, placing loud, wet, hot kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck, her arms, leaving sticky, wet marks on it.

He heard her sigh full of pain and pleasure, feeling with shame that his erection swelled all over and hardened, pulsing painfully under the material of his sweatpants, betraying how much he longed for her, how much he yearned for her.

Her quiet moan surged through the skin of his neck as his broad hand slipped lower, sliding tentatively under the material of her shirt, touching her naked back at last, her bare skin, making them both tremble, breathing heavier and louder.

"– I love you –" He assured her, running his fingertips over the wonderfully smooth skin of her back, making goosebumps appear in the places he ran his fingers over. Her body snuggled into him tighter, allowing him to feel her breasts hidden under her tshirt against his chest.

"– you hurt me –" She sobbed through her tears in a breaking voice, at which his lips clung even harder to her shoulder, his kisses even more greedy and wet as his lips again and again brushed and teased the delicate structure of her skin.

"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, feeling lust and desire pulsing through every nook and cranny of his body, filling his lower abdomen with a pleasurable, tickling tension from which his heart pounded like mad.

He moaned helplessly when he finally felt her warm, puffy lips brush his neck, her cheeks wet from tears as his hand pressed her closer.

"– please – please, baby, please –" He mumbled out, wanting only to feel her again, without her being just an empty part of an incomplete whole.

However, as his hand tentatively slid from her back to her buttock, she pulled away from him suddenly as if burned, hugging her back to the wall and shook her head.

"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out loudly, looking at him with big, terrified eyes. He shook his head, heartbroken, leaning down, placing quick, warm kisses on her bare knee, stroking her calf with his palm.

"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"

"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She blurted out, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly. He swallowed hard and shook his head again, shocked, understanding how far her lack of trust went and who she now saw him as.

"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered, trying to calm his breathing, feeling like his whole face had swollen from tears.

"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out and turned her back to him, hugging herself to the wall again exactly as she did then, the first time, making him whimper, choking on his own tears. He pressed his face against her back, wailing loudly, his fingers clenched on her waist.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined like an animal into her shirt and heard her weep loudly, but she answered him nothing.

However, she did not push him away or tell him to step back, so he fell asleep cuddled into her body, and the next day she again did not speak to him or look at him as if this conversation had never happened.

In her presence he cried all the time and didn't even hide it anymore.

Looking at her, he saw exactly as if in the reflection of a mirror who he had become and what he had sacrificed.

However, it turned out that his grandfather was partly right in his assumptions: Daemon just wanted to kill them all, but his wife didn't feel like risking her daughter's life for a fortune and was willing to talk to them if they let her see her.

"– tomorrow you will go with us to meet your parents – perhaps we will come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, swallowing hard, standing over her small figure sitting on the sill of his window, looking out at the setting sun.

Her profile was gentle and pleasant, her eyes surrounded by a fan of dark lashes large and bright, her lips seemed wonderfully soft, full and sweet, made only to be caressed.

She closed her eyes, resting her temple against the glass, and did not even bestow a single glance on him.

He prepared himself for the fact that she would answer him nothing and wanted to sit down on the mattress, going back to reading one of the textbooks she had brought him, but he froze when he heard her voice.

"I'd like to take a bath." She said.

He swallowed hard, looking at her over his shoulder.

"Of course. I'll call Helaena." He replied, wanting to go out into the corridor.

They never left her alone.

For her own safety.

"No." She said and looked at him.

"I want ten minutes alone."

He looked at her, feeling anxiety and doubt in his heart, but he couldn't say no to her.

"Very well. I'll wait by the door."

She nodded and stood up, taking the towel that belonged to her from the chair and went outside. He followed her, walking towards the bathroom next to his room – she looked at him with frustration as he took the key out of the lock and shook his head.

"No. I won't come inside, but I won't let you lock yourself in." He said. She swallowed hard and nodded, and he closed the door behind her.

He leaned against the stair railing, hearing the sound of pouring water, and looked at his watch, sighing heavily.

Ten minutes, no more.

He heard her step into the bath and closed his eyes, thinking that perhaps this was just another ordeal they had to wait through together.

He wanted to believe that she had seen his sadness, shame and remorse, that by his behaviour and calmness he had proved to her that he was capable of being different, for her, only for her.

However, ten minutes passed, then eleven, and she still did not come out of the water.

He didn't want to invade her privacy and make her uncomfortable, but he felt impatient and became concerned that he didn't hear any movement in the room. He walked closer and knocked, sighing heavily.

"– Rhaenys – time's up –" He said matter-of-factly. He pressed his lips together when he heard no sound on the other side and knocked a second time, louder this time.

"– Rhaenys – please –" He sighed, running his hand over his face, deciding that whether she wanted it or not, he had to do it.

"– I'm coming inside – cover yourself –" He said, grabbing the door handle and stepped into the room.

It seemed to him that what he saw before him was some kind of frame from a film, not reality: the snow-white tiles around her head and dark hair, her half-open eyelids and mouth, her hands lying on the edge of the tub, her slit wrists and the crimson water in which she lay, his sister's T-shirt on her body.

He looked down and saw a tiny blade from a bookbinding knife lying on the floor.

For a moment he just stared at it, afraid to move, thinking it wasn't really happening.

"– Rhaenys? –" He muttered, approaching her slowly, but she didn't even flinch, staring ahead as if she was thoughts somewhere far away.

"– Rhaenys, what have you done? –" He mumbled as if he was afraid that if he said the words too loudly they would turn out to be true, and yet it could not be true.

"– God, baby – oh my fucking God –" He whined, pulling her by the shoulders out of the water with a loud splash of red liquid that spilled out.

He sat down on the floor, placing her between his legs, letting her head and back rest against his chest, his fingers tightening on her wrists in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"– baby, what have you done? – hm? – what have you done? –" He whispered to her ear in a trembling voice, kissing her soft, warm face, feeling the initial shock begin to be replaced by a growing panic and the realisation that this was really happening.

He began to breathe loudly, as he always did when he was terrified and when he needed help calling out to the only person he trusted.

"– MUM! – MUM, HELP ME! –" He shouted like a helpless, broken child and burst into tears, clasping his fingers tighter on her wrists, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

"– oh God, oh God, oh, God, no, no no no, please, baby, please, please, don't leave me –" He whimpered, rocking her in his arms, cradling her to himself, again and again kissing her bare shoulder, her long neck, her sweet cheek.

He heard someone run up the stairs, the screams of his mother and sister at the sight they saw before their eyes made him look at them.

"– Mum –"

Even though he knew his grandfather would be furious, he and his mother called the ambulance. While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, she provisionally bandaged her hands together with Helaena, as well as dressed her in a clean shirt and underwear.

He did not let her out of his arms for a second, and when the ambulance arrived he told his mother that he would go with her.

He looked at her as he sat in the car, feeling his hands were sticky with her blood, thinking it was his fault, his fault, his fault.

She just wanted to run away, she just wanted to go home, but she didn't know how.

He made her do this.

When they arrived at the hospital it turned out that her condition was critical: because of how little she had eaten she had become anaemic and needed a quick blood transfusion.

"– take mine –" He said without thinking, and when the doctor asked him what blood type he had, it turned out that he and she had the same.

He could have done something that mattered.

He could have saved her.

He held her hand, lying on the bed beside him, staring dully at the ceiling, the other clenched again and again on the soft ball as he watched his blood fill the plastic bag.

When the doctor came inside, he asked him about what he had been thinking about for a long time.

"– there's – there's a possibility she's pregnant – and –" He mumbled, not knowing how to put it into words. The man looked at him, surprised.

"– she's definitely not pregnant – the tests didn't show it –" The doctor replied, and he swallowed hard, feeling for some reason a great disappointment and sadness.

If he became the father of her child, he could be a part of her life.

He would have an excuse to talk to her, to see her.

He tightened his fingers around hers, stroking her soft skin with his thumb, trying not to cry, thinking he deserved it.

What child would want to be born into such a world?

When it was all over he informed the doctors who they should contact, giving them his half-sister's phone number. Before he left the room, he handed her back her phone and slipped a letter into her locker, which he wrote hurriedly on a piece of paper with a pen the nurse had lent him.

For his own conscience he waited in the distance, watching as Daemon's Mercedes pulled into the car park, he and Rhaenyra ran inside the building without noticing him. He sighed heavily and licked his lower lip, glancing at his phone, seeing twenty missed calls from his grandfather. He dialled his number and put the phone to his ear, feeling strangely calm and relaxed.

"She's alive?" He heard Otto's voice on the other end.

"Yes." He replied dispassionately.

"Thank God. Why didn't you call for me? You ruined everything. Our doctor would have taken care of it. You…" He continued, but he hung up, not feeling like listening to his smart-ass bullshit.

His mother picked him up from the hospital.

"How is she? Will she survive? Have you contacted Rhaenyra?" She asked quickly as they set off, afraid that anyone would notice them.

He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, looking at the road with empty eyes.

"I gave her contact details to the hospital staff. They arrived, I saw it with my own eyes. She's safe now." He explained.

His mother breathed out loud, her big brown eyes simultaneously terrified and full of relief.

"You did the right thing, Aemond. No money is worth it. This poor girl." She muttered, shaking her head, trying not to cry and concentrate on driving.

"I destroyed her."

Alicent looked at him, then back at the road, her mouth open slightly in an accelerated breath.

"What do you mean?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling his brow arch in pain and shame.

"I went to her room the night my father died. We had sex, Mum." He muttered in a breaking voice, covering his face with his hand and burst out crying like a little boy.

His mother sighed loudly, shocked, twisting restlessly in her seat.

"– but – why – did she – did she want this? –" She asked in a trembling voice full of terror, indicating that she really believed he might have raped her.

He was not surprised.

"– yes – but I don't think that makes it look any better –" He mumbled, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, leaning his head forward.

"– we did it twice – and then a third time before I –" He didn't finish and cried out loudly, making his mother breathe heavily as if she was in the same state as him.

"– oh my God – oh my God, Aemond, what have you done – she's your niece –" She choked out finally.

"– I know, Mum –" He mumbled, running his fingers over his face, thinking he already understood where her desire to end her life and this perpetual sense of unfulfillment and emptiness came from.

"– me too – I'm no saint either –" She muttered finally, looking up at him with big eyes. "– me and Criston –"

He swallowed hard and shook his head, recognising that it wasn't the same.

"– I know, Mum – you won't hear a word of condemnation from me –"

His mother drew a loud breath and wept, as if she felt both relieved and sad at the same time.

"– nor will you hear them from me, son – since you both wanted it, it was simply a mistake of youth – you are both lost and have sought comfort – but it must not happen again – do you understand? – for your sake and hers –" She said with confidence and conviction that this was the best possible decision.

"– I keep thinking about her – since that holiday eight years ago – I've tried, but I can't stop –" He choked out at last, wiping his red cheek, feeling as if he were ten years old again, complaining to her that someone had beaten him up at school.

Alicent ran her hand over her face before placing her palm over his.

"– sometimes – sometimes we have to leave certain things to ourselves – the shameful desires of our hearts – and fulfil them when no one sees – do you understand? –" She asked in a trembling voice, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

"It is not love itself that is sin –" She said finally. "– but what we do with it."

408 notes · View notes

b14augrana · 5 months ago

Text

Scrubber

Your first time with the national team, hoping you’ll find yourself being of importance to the team with your Vidić-reminiscent play style

Barça Femeni x teen!reader

pt. 6 masterlist

Warnings: the rfef ⚠️⚠️, a teeny bit of badly translated spanish and like one sentence of catalan, angst if u squint 🙂‍↕️

A/N: our scrubber is back 🥳🥳! this part is longer than usual, i hope you enjoy 💝

You couldn’t remember anything between landing in Denmark and waking up in your hotel room. You were still in the clothes you had travelled in, and neither Irene or Alexia were in the room… until the door opened and both of them were.

“(Y/N), get up, we’re going to breakfast,” Irene said, yanking the covers off. You sat up and rubbed your eyes, adjusting to the light beginning to peek into your room as Irene pulled up the blinds before her and Alexia left the room and left you to get ready.

It’s like you were on autopilot the whole time as you got into your Spain training kit and took the elevator down to the cafeteria. When the elevator stopped and the doors opened into the hotel’s foyer, it was easy to tell where the cafeteria was because of the voices you could hear.

Tentatively, you stepped into the room. Your eyes scanned every table for any sign of your Barça teammates, the only people you wanted to see right now amongst the abundance of other women that were now your new teammates.

When you saw Aitana and Irene’s heads amidst the crowd, your muscles relaxed with relief, and you made your way over to them swiftly.

“Buenos días,” you mumbled, sitting down beside Aitana, yawning as you cracked your neck. “Buenos días, (Y/N),” the brunette replied, smiling at you.

The room was packed with women, all wearing the same training gear as you. Some of them you recognised from times you versed then with your club; Laia Codina from Arsenal, Alba Redondo from Levante, Laia Aleixandri from Manchester City… and some Madridistas.

One thing about you was, you were passionate about Barça. In your eyes there was no ‘best club in the world’ debate, let alone best club in Spain — that title immediately went to Barça.

You were a Barça fan before you were a player, hence why you have always been well-versed in the club’s history, and therefore the history of the rivalry between Real Madrid and FC Barcelona.

You had bad experiences with Madridistas. El Clásicos were already competitive matches (for one side, at least), so you didn’t really like the way you were almost seemingly targeted by your rivals, due to your age. Irene and Mapi were never pelted by so many balls and forced into so many one-on-one duels.

Even though you were more than capable of crunching them, it exhausted you. You woke up the next morning with bruises you didn’t know had formed and grazes in odd spots that made you wonder what kind of tackles you were performing to get them in such areas.

The wingers gave you the most problems. They constantly cut into the middle, choosing to take you on. Part of you couldn’t blame them because you wouldn’t want to take on Lucy, Ona or Frido either, but what the hell?

The room was definitely not devoid of Madridistas. You could see Misa, their goalie, sitting with Alexandria. There was another face you recognised from those El Clásico matches, but it was a vague remembrance that made you think long and hard to remember the name. You only remembered her nickname within your Barça teammates; la hija de Frido.

Whatever. You’d figure it out later.

“Are you going to eat anything, nenita?” Irene asked from across the table, and you nodded hesitantly.

Leaning over, you whispered, “Can you come with me? Please?”

She nodded with a smile, standing up. “Aita, come with us. We’re going to get some food.”

You were always grateful for your Barça family. They’ve always been your big sisters, people you can trust and find comfort in, your second family.

(Except, they were basically your first family.)

You were more grateful for them than ever today, because this Spain camp was intimidating and scary, you knew nobody except your club teammates and you were pretty much lost.

All you wanted to do was cling onto Irene or Alexia or Aitana the entire day and never leave their side. Even as you were getting food and piling breakfast onto your plate, you stuck to Irene like glue.

With your plate in hand, you walked cautiously to balance all the food and prevent it dropping. You found yourself feeling way hungrier than normal, and you blamed it on the nerves as you placed your food onto the table.

"Irene, watch my food please," you said once she returned to the table with her own breakfast, "I'm going to get a drink."

"That's a lot of food, but I'll look after it anyways," the woman laughed, sitting down and dragging your plate beside hers. You returned to the buffet table and as you were debating on making yourself a cup of tea or just having a glass of ice water, another woman approached you from the side, bumping your shoulder.

Your lip subconsciously curled up, your nose scrunching. Your head snapped sideways to look at whoever it was that just bumped you, and a dirty blonde-brownish ponytail swished in your face.

It was the girl whose name you didn’t know, the Madridista. She was putting a couple slices of toast onto her plate, and it seemed like she hadn’t even realised she bumped you.

But it didn’t make sense. It was a solid shove which definitely wasn’t accidental..

Grabbing a glass from the collection on the table, you walked past her slowly, waiting for the perfect moment. As she placed her plate down and picked up a spoon to load some strawberries onto it, you took an extra step closer to her and shoved her shoulder with yours.

The strawberries she had picked up on the spoon all dropped back into the container upon the impact. You hurried over to the water jug to pour some into your glass, not looking at her for a moment despite being able to feel her cold glare on you.

Your shove was a bit harder than hers had initially been, but that was because you were bigger and probably stronger.

You returned to your table quickly, and Irene pushed your plate back towards you before you had even sat down.

“Who’s that girl, over there?” you asked Aitana and Irene, discreetly gesturing to the table behind you where she sat.

“You mean Misa?” Aitana questioned, and you shook your head. “No, the other one, the one she’s talking to.”

“Ohhh, that’s Athenea,” Aitana replied, and the name was suddenly very familiar to you. You had vivid memories of her getting sat by Frido during multiple Clásicos, and it was apparent that Aitana was reminiscing about the same events due to the laugh she was trying to suppress while talking about Athenea.

“She just bumped me off,” you explained, and Aitana’s eyes widened. “Did she apologise?”

You shook your head, giving her a shrug in return, “No. I couldn’t help myself and shoved her back, but I seriously didn’t mean to do it as hard as I did,” you responded, sighing.

Aitana rubbed your back and smiled, “Don’t worry about it, just eat. You need energy for training.”

As you put a piece of waffle into your mouth, you tried to recount all the interactions you’ve had with Athenea — there was the time you two-footed her out of nowhere when she managed to get past Irene, the time you had an aerial duel with her and she headed your shoulder instead of the ball, the time she lost the ball to you and it resulted in a goal…

You also remembered her unnecessary physicality when you didn’t have the ball, the snarky remarks she’d make to her teammates about you and your own teammates, and other coarse behaviour she displayed throughout each Clásico.

You went to stab another piece of your waffle until you realised you had eaten it all, along with the hash browns, fruits, toast and scrambled eggs.

Irene and Aitana had also finished their breakfast, and while Irene took a sip of her coffee, Aitana did the same with her orange juice.

“Vale,” Irene spoke, placing her coffee down, “Preparémosnos para entrenar.”

You were nervous for training. You weren’t sure if they’d be like Barça in terms of utilising your skills; would they be accepting of your play style or completely discard it, forcing you to play differently?

Your play style was an important part of you as a player, but also you as a person. It was the manifestation of your passion for Barça and the pride you felt whenever you got to wear the blaugrana.

It was also an ode to your idol who demonstrated what it means to give your all for the badge. Without your play style, you’re nothing.

It was the only thing you could think of as you strolled to the training pitch, boots in hand. You deliberately waited for everyone else to leave so you could loom behind them, and you planned to keep it that way until you found someone you properly knew.

Captain Irene was occupied with talking to some other players and Alexia was nowhere to be seen, but luckily Aitana was stretching by herself on the side. There was also Cata, but she was in the goal, getting warmed up by Salma.

You almost sprinted to Aitana, relieved that you didn’t have to spend another second wandering around aimlessly.

“Aita," you said, dropping your boots on the ground before sitting down, shaking your slides off and loosening the laces of your boots.

She got up from her lunge position and smiled, "Hola. Where's Ale?"

You shrugged and returned to trying to get your boot on. "Stupid sock boots..." you grunted, the elastic sock snapping against your ankle, making you wince.

“Why are you on your own?” you asked her, tying the laces of your boots as you watched her extend her leg outwards and reach over to touch her toes.

“I thought you’d want to be without the others for a bit,” Aitana responded simply. She was right — it was a huge relief to find her amongst all the clusters of people.

You missed Frido. You missed Mapi and Patri and Pina. You missed Barcelona.

You wished you could skip straight to playing football without having to introduce yourself to anyone or learn their ways. Obviously, that wasn’t the case.

“I’m scared, Aita. What if they think I’m too physical, or I don’t play– ‘Spanish’ enough?” you ranted, folding your arms across your body.

Aitana sat back up, letting go of her foot to cross her legs as she gazed at you and began to speak.

“Pequeñita, if you’re worried about fitting in, don’t be,” she started, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“You were there at the back when we needed you the most as our last-ditch defender, our last hope. If you weren’t so physical and dedicated to defending and not ‘Spanish enough’, we wouldn’t have a Champions League.”

You were born and raised in Spain, you knew Barcelona like the back of your hand and you spoke both languages. You were Spanish through and through, despite living in France for a couple odd years. You were Spanish. It was your idolisation of a non-Spanish, non-La Liga player that set you apart from the others.

You were about to respond, but your words were cut short by a tap on your shoulder. You glanced up, expecting to see Alexia, but it was Irene standing behind you.

“(Y/N), officials of the federation want to meet you,” she said in a low voice. You caught on to the way she glanced around, making sure nobody was around to hear.

Your eyes narrowed while Aitana’s widened, and you looked at Irene with an expression of uncertainty. “Do I have to go?”

You didn’t necessarily want to go, but you knew you weren’t left with much of a choice, and Irene’s nod confirmed that for you. You sighed, getting up from the grass and brushing off your shorts.

“Thank you, Aita,” you said, referring to the talk you two had earlier. She smiled and reached her hand out to squeeze yours gently, and you returned the gesture with a small smile of your own. “I’ll tell you everything!”

You left your gear in the care of Aitana as you and Irene made your way to the head office. You were nervous and a bit scared of what was about to happen, because the personal stories you’ve heard about the federation haven’t been good ones. Nonetheless, you walked beside Irene and waited in front of the mahogany wood door as she knocked on it, and it opened to reveal about three officials sitting around a table.

Your skin felt hot and feverish as you stepped over the threshold. The amount of eyes on you was unsettling, and if Irene wasn’t beside you, the feeling of discomfort blooming in your stomach would be way stronger.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N)?” the man at the door asked, and you nodded nervously. Your eyes flickered up to Irene whose jaw was set, her cold glare fixed on the man as he spoke to you, “Please, sit.”

You slowly walked to the nearest seat and sunk into it. Irene did the same, pulling out a seat beside you and crossing her arms across her chest.

A man across the table began to speak once you two had taken your seats, “(Y/N), we’ve been very eager to meet you ever since your debut in Liga F.”

You clenched your jaw, unsure of where this conversation was going. You simply nodded, trying to hold your tongue and refrain from speaking for as long as possible.

“You’re very talented, especially given your age. Barça’s prodigy, the new stargirl…” he continued.

Leaning across the table, he spoke, “I’ve never seen a player that plays like you, especially in Spain. Have you always played for Barça, or wanted to?”

Your answer came without any hesitation. “Barça is my home. I am Barça through and through, forever. I’m just inspired by someone else whose passion aligns with mine.”

“You’re different. I’ve seen your play style, and it goes hand in hand with fearlessness and elegance. That’s why we called you up because after one of our best defenders withdrew from the squad… we haven’t been the same.”

You didn’t need a rocket scientist to figure out who he was referring to. Your hands gripped the armrests of your seat as you responded, “I can’t replace the likes of Mapi.”

You were already sick and tired of this conversation. The mention of Mapi unsettled you all over again, because you knew that something happened between her and these very same officials that led to her withdrawing from representing her nation, and you didn’t want to be in the company of the people that forced her to feel such a way and make that decision.

“We’re working on fostering a healthy environment at our camps–”

Irene stood up, her chair scraping across the floor with an unpleasant noise that grabbed everyone’s attention. “Work harder. I don’t want anyone playing another season under poor leadership,” she snapped. Her arm shot down to yours, tugging you up gently. Her tone was everything but gentle.

“My player needs to get back to training. We’re done here.”

You were eternally grateful for Irene. You got to your feet and quickly exited the room, aware of her storming out and slamming the door behind you two.

“The federation has lacked a ‘healthy environment’ for a while,” Irene frowned, slowing down in pace and breaking into more of a stroll.

“Don’t let their shitty leadership make you feel bad about this opportunity. Just like everyone else, you’re here to play football and win the Olympics. Forget the federation.”

It was easier said than done — both of you knew that — but neither of you said anything about it as you walked back to the pitch.

When you entered into the grassy clearing, Aitana and Alexia were nearby practicing their headers. They stopped when they noticed you and Irene, and they quickly came over to you guys.

“What happened?” Aitana asked, her expression slightly concerned, much like Alexia’s. You told them about everything that happened in the meeting (with some help from Irene), and at the end of your explanation, the two Spaniards didn’t look any less concerned.

“We’re praying the new coach and president do something to change the culture in the federation,” Alexia finally said, and you sighed. “Let’s hope so.”

“La hija de Frido is staring,” you grumbled, earning a laugh from Aitana who glanced in her direction. Indeed, Athenea was looking at your group with a firm glare, her Real Madrid teammate on the side trying to grab her attention.

“What’s wrong with her? Did something happen?” Alexia asked, and you shrugged. “She doesn’t like me that much, I think. Maybe because, y’know, she’s not exactly a challenge for me to defend…” you said with a nervous smile. Aitana’s laughter only increased, and a smile appeared on Alexia’s face.

“Barça es la millor!” she cheered happily, embracing you in a side hug.

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veryberryjelly · 5 months ago

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request ; @diorrfairy; can i get 25. kissing hip bones i repeat kissing hip bones with art donaldson !!

art donaldson x reader

prompts ; ' kissing hip bones i repeat kissing hip bones '

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 ✦ 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 !

while there were many benefits to dating a tennis player, attending functions was not one of them.

a lot of people would love to get dressed up, go to a fancy event with their partner and spend the night drinking, but both yourself and art would much rather just stay home and order in.

you enjoyed each others company more than others.

but unfortunately neither of you could get out of it tonight.

which was why you were finishing off curling your hair in the bathroom while art tied up his shoes sat on the bed.

" we could say i got hurt during practice "

the entire time the two of you had been getting ready, art had been offering up excuses you could give to the organiser to get out of it and every time you had the same sort of answer.

a soft laugh fell from your lips as you set the curler down on the counter, switching it off at the socket.

" baby, there is no way we can get out of it. " you relented, waking through to the bedroom, your bare feet padding against the carpet. " but we only have to be there for an hour or two and then we can come home "

art lifted his eyes when you came to stand infront of him and for a moment he was glad that they had been invited to this event.

you looked absolutely ethereal.

your dress complimented your skin beautifully, the thin material allowing him to see every curve of your body.

when he lifted his hands to slide up your thighs, ruffling the material slightly, he realised how soft it was beneath his fingertips.

his hands slid up from your thighs to your hips, pulling you those few steps closer to him, his head tilted back and his gorgeous blue and brown eye staring up at you with something you recognised as 'complete and utter adoration' as he so eloquently put it.

" you look absolutely stunning, baby " he whispered, his voice slightly hoarse from the amount of restraint he was having to put to use to prevent himself from pulling this dress off of you.

" is the promise of getting to take this off later enough to get you out the door ?" you questioned, your hands sliding up into his mess of strawberry curls.

he didnt seem to hear you, his lips moving to press light kisses against the silky fabric, his lips moving from your stomach and down to your pelvis.

you were so entranced with the sight of him so addicted to the feeling of the fabric against his skin, that you didnt notice his hands lifting your dress from the floor and up your thighs.

" art " you prompted, trying to pull him out of his euphoric state as he tried to pull your dress up over your ass.

that was when you had to step back and let the fabric fall down to the floor again, causing him to snap out of his daze.

you sat down on the floor infront of him and began to slide your feet into your heels while you spoke.

" 2 hours, and then we can come home and i'll even keep the dress on for a little while if you want " you bargained. seeing how he reacted to you in the dress, you thought the promise of some private time with you in the outfit might get him out the door.

" fine, 2 hours " he said, standing from the bed and offering his hands out to pull you from the floor after you had put your shoes on.

---

as you promised, after two hours at the event, you and art said your goodbyes and headed to the car, arts hands already all over you as you walked to the car.

you managed to keep him off of you until you got back to your place, but the minute the door was shut, he had his hands pawing at the fabric of your dress, pulling it up to bunch at your waist so he could grasp at you properly.

his hands went to your ass, your arms looped around his neck and your lips only disconnected for air every few seconds.

a small yelp fell from your lips when your feet were lifted from the ground and your legs wrapped around art's torso, holding on tightly as he brought you both to the bedroom, setting you down on the mattress with a small bounce.

he knelt down to undo your shoes and drop them onto the floor, his lips pressing to your ankles, then your shins.

he continued up your body, pulling your dress up as he went.

when he reached your thighs you lifted your ass slightly to help him move the fabric but you watched in amusement as his head pulled out from under the dress.

he didnt hesitate to push the silky material up over your hips so it bunched up just above your belly button.

his eyes flamed as he presses a feather light kiss to your stomach, following down the same path as he had previously by pressing a light kiss to your pelvis.

he moved to the left, his lips trailing a path towards your hip bone as he pulled down the fabric of your panties, doing the same to each side.

once your panties joined your shoes in the pile forming on the floor, you were absolutely done for

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soap-brain · 3 months ago

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i think one of the nate eliot things is that they're both fucking unhinged. there's something feral about them, something that's capable of disregarding basic humanity. we know eliot is a killer, and a ruthless one at that, and he's not afraid of being in those kind of situations, which in a way dehumanises him, this inability to feel fear.

and nate. nate!! that man is terrifying! get in line, or get out of the way is his motto, and he applies it to absolutely everyone. especially in the earlier seasons, and yes he applies it to sophie (who is unarguably closest to him) too! for maggie he decides that she will get out of the way (because falling in line with him would mean that she would break the law, and she's a Good Citizen, not a Criminal or a Thief, and it never occurs to him that it's not a black and white situation... or that his ex wife matches his crazy).

and if you do neither, he ends you. simple as that. he doesn't kill you and he doesn't physically harm you, but what he does is arguably worse, because he ruins your life in ways eliot can't.

and they very quickly recognise each other as apex predators and both allow the other to use that for their crusade. eliot is a weapon that needs pointing in the right direction, that's what he's getting out of their relationship; and nate needs someone who'll have a go at him and who he can't actually hurt. because nate ruins lives by ruining their reputations, and what reputation does eliot have to lose? and conversely, not even nate ford could convince the world that eliot spencer isn't really fucking dangerous

(sidenote: that's why making moreau watch eliot spencer decrying the evil presidential dog fights is so fucking funny. there's an excellent post about it somewhere on here)

eliot thinks he's further along the path of being something inhuman, and he also thinks nate can still be saved from becoming that too. being an insurance cop, a "good guy" (btw a very laughable concept about how working in insurance makes you a good person. like. if that were the case then how come the same "good guys" let nate's son die so they didn't have to pay for his treatment?), was what kept nate on the straight and narrow before, and now giving him something to do might stop him from going completely off the rails ("how long until you fall apart again? a guy like you can't be out of the game, that's why you were a wreck. you need the chase" is what eliot's saying to convince nate to stay with the team).

unfortunately running with criminals doesn't fix nate the way eliot would like for it to, because the guy suddenly stops recognising any and all societal rules and overcompensates by trying to keep full control of everything all the time. he is so unreasonably mad at sophie for trying to help her friend teresa who got screwed over by marcone.

"she should've known what she got into, her husband working with the mob" and cpl perry from the ep before should've known what he got into, joining the military, but for some reason he's worth helping because he didn't "choose" to become a criminal. did teresa choose to get in with the mob or did she and her husband just not have another chance?

and when the entire team agrees they want to take that job, nate throws a hissy fit. tells them all to walk if they don't like the way he runs the team.

so does leverage fix nate? maybe after five seasons. but at first it makes him worse because between "not having to abide by normal human laws anymore" and the alcohol he completely loses his restraint

and eliot gets that. eliot has been there, has completely lost any and all principles (working for moreau mostly) and is now trying to glue the pieces of himself back together into something that isn't horrible. but nate isn't there yet. nate is still violent and dangerous, and eliot is the only one on the team who isn't disgusted by it. sophie certainly is. hardison and parker are too, even if they don't say it out loud. eliot may not like it, but he gets it.

and in return, nate is the only one who knows about what happened in the big bang job. he can hold eliot back with as little as a gesture or a look and it's not a slight to eliot at all. eliot trusts nate to point him in the right direction because they both need the same thing:

to be a good man.

also:

eliot: what, you think the only thing i know how to do is bust heads? nate: no... well, yeah. eliot: hold a knife like this, cuts through an onion. hold a knife like this, cuts thought like eight yakuza in 4 seconds. screams, carnage... nate: yeah good point actually

like apart from how it's funny, any normal person would react with some version of "that's so fucked up". and nate is just like yeah nah that tracks actually, fair enough, do carry on

also @scotchiegirl something about nate and eliot and violence? sorry for tagging you aslkdjfhasdlkfj i just had ThoughtsTM

#leverage #anyways! time to walk the doggy #this is such a deeply uncool way to end a post XD #OH GOD I JUST REALISED.#"at least that way we might be able to... together... come across some kind of redemption.#if you know what i mean lol #brb gonna bite something about this

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musouie · 19 days ago

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੭ précis. you help out omega!suguru during his heat | omegaverse, blowjob, gn!reader, light somnophilia, anal fingering, dom!reader, sub!suguru, established relationship

thinking about omega!suguru, who gets his heat in the middle of the night. he’s a writhing mess, breathing harshly against his pillow as his cock weeps onto the sheets, back arching like a bow about to snap.

his skin is searing, clammy and feverish; his scent heady and honeyed and spilling into the air with the fragrance of ripe peaches — ripe for the taking, ripe for someone to sink their teeth into. (and suguru would love that, wouldn’t he? to get his neck bitten open, until his skin bruises beautifully and the taste of copper stains his tongue.)

he whines, and tears slip past his long, pretty eyelashes as he blearily watches you slumber on, blissfully oblivious to his pathetic state — his undoing.

there’s a sense of humiliation burning low in his stomach when he sheds his pyjama pants and pushes his pelvis against your backside, rutting himself helplessly against the swell of your ass, mouthing mindlessly against the back of your neck like a man starved. (and suguru is, in a way; fervently and utterly ravenous for the feel of your flesh — the warmth of your mouth, the salt, the sweat — and he longs to peel that flesh back and bury himself deep within, to feel the flutter of your heart when it beats in time with his own.)

he makes a little noise again. this time, it rouses you from your sleep, albeit languidly.

your eyelids flutter thrice, a palm moving to rub away sleep as you groan, the other reaching behind you once you register that something warm is pressed flush against your body.

your fingers touch slick skin, and when you bring them to the front of your face, they’re glossy with a fluid that is neither saliva nor perspiration (you know what it is, you recognise the tangy scent wafting about, and a shiver runs down the length of your spine at the implications.)

slowly, you turn over, and come face-to-face with a sight so debauched it has your breath coming out in a rush, a huff.

suguru’s hair is untied, the strands spilling like ink over his shoulders, knuckles ivory from how hard he’s gripping the cotton sheets. his lips are parted, spit smeared against his chin, eyelashes so clumped together by his tears that they resemble the legs of a black widow.

as he trembles, your gaze flits down to his swollen cock, flushed with blood, the tip leaking pearls of precum and the dark curls at the base gleaming with his slick —

— and then you sniff.

a nectarine scent coats the tip of your tongue, rich and cloying and sweet, so very sweet, and your mouth waters with the urge to taste him, to gorge yourself on his flesh.

“sugu’,” you coo. “you could’ve woken me earlier. what were you thinking, hm? does it feel good using me to get off, like i’m some little fucktoy?”

his breath hitches at that, and a shudder rips through him as he keens, sharp and high, so loud it grates on your ears. the spider’s legs flutter once, twice, and then they’re wet with the prickle of tears that threaten to spill over. “hurts,” he whispers. “please, make it stop.”

“that’s all you had to say, baby. no need to be so shy.” and his scent turns even sweeter, thickens like sugar. he mewls as you push him on his back, parting his legs wide, and his hole is a little pucker, red and slick and inviting.

your teeth throb with the urge to bite.

you settle between his legs instead, lowering your head towards his weeping cock. the musk is potent, and it fills your senses until all you can focus on is the slickness dripping down his thighs, the swollen, cherry-red swell of his cock, the blotchy flush that creeps down his neck and blooms across his chest.

you lick a broad stripe up his cock, and suguru jolts, body trembling, hands scrabbling for purchase against the sheets.

the action yields another trickle of fluid, and his taste is ambrosial, spilling upon your tongue with such potency that it has you reeling, mouth watering for more. you pull back, letting the saliva pool in the well of your mouth, and spit, watching it dribble obscenely along his shaft, down his balls and the cleft of his ass.

your fingers dig into his hip and you suckle the head of his cock gently, laving the hot, leaking tip with kitten licks.

he whimpers, and the sound is like the cry of a wounded animal, and his thighs squeeze about your head, knees pressing into your ears until you think they might cave in. you take him fully, down to the root, and his moan sounds like the bellow of a beast.

“fuck,” he cries.

it’s the only word that tumbles from his lips amidst the litany of broken words and half-baked phrases, the rest melting into a garbled mess as you bob your head, sucking him down eagerly.

his hands are gentle but bruising as he thrusts into your mouth. hips canting upwards, his taste spilling profusely onto your tongue, and he lets out a choked cry before he cums, release heavy and bitter.

it dribbles from the corners of your mouth, sticky white strings. and he sobs, squirms, and his face is so red, his eyes are so wet, glistening and glassy and so, so pretty.

“look at me, baby,” and his cloudy gaze snaps towards yours. “don’t look away, not even once.”

you push two fingers into his heat, and they slip in easily, the tight, silky walls of muscle clenching around you. you deftly crook your digits, scissoring him open, and suguru shudders, nails scraping against the sheets.

“you’re so, so tight.” you hook your fingers, feeling your way around his inner walls, brushing against his prostate, and his reaction is immediate. a choked, strangled cry tears itself from his throat, and his back arches sharply, thighs trembling as he moans his pleasure.

heat simmers low in your belly, and the smell of him is everywhere — peaches and peaches and peaches (fruit and flesh and fruit and flesh).

you work him open until his hole is gaping and sucks your third finger in greedily, and he whines your name over and over again — a needy chant, a praise, a prayer.

when you moan around him, his back lifts from the bed and he unfurls; unfurls and unravels and comes apart, a thread held by a needle — one last tug and the string would snap, and everything would fall apart — and he wants this, wants to break, wants to shatter beneath the searing heat of your mouth, the flicker of your tongue, the pinch of your nails —

— so he breaks, and his release is a stream, pearly-white and thick, and his tears are silver, and he is beautiful.

a bitter tang coats the roof of your mouth, and you swallow, throat bobbing. when you lift your head, suguru is still looking at you, eyes glassy and lidded, and his lips part; he breathes out a reverent, barely-there whisper, voice soft and sweet:

“...can you do that again?”

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thebestofoneshots · 4 months ago

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Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.2 K Warnings: angst Prompt: After fighting some of those deamons, will the rest of Vixen's issues be resolved? Is there a way to be happy even without the boys? This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it.Proofread by Lovely @aremuslupinsimp

You leaned down and took one of the Mirror shreds in your hands. Depending on where you moved it, you could see reflections from all the things you’d seen inside: Sirius crying, Remus desperate, your father crying for your mother, and you crying for Nina. You being dropped from your father’s arms and several other moments. You sighed, placed the shred in your bag, and walked towards the clock. If you had one of the parts, then not even the most expert reparo, and neither would all the king’s men, put Riapsed together again.

When you crossed over to the other vault, you took the three keys on the face of the clock and placed them in your bag alongside all the money you’d already taken. You gave one long look to the vault, at the books lying on the floor and at the harp singing its sorrowful song in the back. You didn’t understand why your father had created the riddle for you. You didn’t understand why he kept making things harder, but in the end, it didn’t matter.

Not as long as you didn’t follow the same steps he would, not as long as you made the choices he would scorn.

You walked outside of the vault, the goblin, Tharnock, was waiting patiently there for you. Your little odyssey through memory lane had eaten up about 2 hours, and you had to get out before people knew you were there, or before Thernock realised how weird the entire thing had been for him.

“Are you finished, Miss?”

You nodded, “Yes, thank you.”

Tharnock walked you back to the minecart and you were both back in the main hall in a matter of minutes. The goblin gave you the key as you walked past the golden gates, he went back to his desk and you walked the hell away from the bank. Once outside, you used the hairpin to blend within the crowd and walked towards a less transited street.

You still hadn’t eaten at all over the weekend. But the strong emotions revolting inside you didn’t make you want to go and buy something either. You checked the clock and decided it was about time to raise your wand. The knight bus appeared a couple of minutes later.

“Where to, Lassie?” the same pudgy guy that had picked Beth and Tom asked.

“Hogsmeade,” you replied.

“Hot chocolate?”

You contemplated the idea for a second. You had tried to drink the hot chocolate before and you didn’t like the idea of getting it all over yourself again, although it was quite tasty. “No thank you,” you said in the end.

“That’ll be 11 Sickles then.” You paid with a galleon. “No change, Lass?”

“Sorry, no.”

He grumbled something about people never carrying change and then handed you 6 sickles. One of them was sticky and you tried not to make a disgusted face as you wiped it on your jeans and walked into one of the few available seats. The trip wasn’t too long, but by the time you were in Hogsmeade, you wanted to puke.

“Thanks for using the Knight Bus, come back soon!” The guy said as you and a few other students you didn’t recognise got down from the train. It was cold outside, and you walked straight towards Honeydukes.

The train had arrived at Hogwarts about an hour before and plenty of students roamed around Hogsmeade, making some last-minute purchases and stocking up on candies and such. They all looked happy and carefree. You had been like that before, you sorrowfully wondered if you’d ever get to smile that big.

There was a couple kissing in the Alley behind the Three Broomsticks, and you flinched when you noticed the way the guy was holding her. It was a thing Sirius used to do all the time. You looked at them for more than would have seen appropriate, took a deep breath and continued walking.

“Hey, Starkeeper!” You heard someone calling from behind. Funny he called you that, you hadn’t been particularly good at keeping your star.

He ran up to you and stopped right in front of you with a frown. He looked all over your face. “Sorry, I thought you were…” You took off the hairpin, and Minho looked at you in shock. “I knew it was you!” he whispered-shouted as he leaned closer, placing an arm over your shoulder and covering as much of you as he could with his chest. “Why are you hiding, is it because of Christmas?”

“Nice to see you, Min” you said with a small smile. You were genuinely happy about not being alone. “Tom– Tom told you about Christmas?”

“No?” he asked, confused. “My parents did. They had been invited to the party, Arkalis is Dad’s coworker, but we were travelling back to Korea to visit our family for Christmas. Mum feels terrible about not going, they were told everything that happened, she wished she could have helped you.”

“Oh,” you said as you took a deep breath. You knew Minho’s parents worked in politics, his father was an ambassador from the Korean Ministry of Magic (KMM), but you’d also heard that in Asia there wasn’t as much prejudice against muggles as there was in England. In fact, much like the Americans, they didn’t have a derogatory term for them, but rather they called the 비마법사 or 비마법 for short, which basically translates to non-wizard or non-wiz. And there was no such term as Muggle-born either, a wizard was a wizard, that simple.

Obviously, Minho had been in shock when he found out such a term existed and that’s why he was such good friends with the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, he just didn’t understand the whole bIood purity bias some of the Slytherins insisted on, not even if he was also a pure bIood. Unfortunately, even if the KMM considered all wizards wizards, they did not see different sexual preferences as openly as the Eastern part of the world did. In fact, they deemed homosexuality as a “European deviation” even if it had existed in Asia for the same amount of time. Of course, Minho was horrified at the idea of being outed.

“Yeah,” he continued. “They think what you did was insanely brave. They were talking about you at breakfast. They recognised you as the Gryffindor seeker and I had to tell them you were actually the keeper instead. They came to our match a couple of months ago, the one where you threw yourself off the broom to beat Reggie to the snitch? You know, right?” You nodded, it’s not like you could forget about that. “Anyway, they said they thought you were really determined then, but that they didn’t know just how brave you were until they heard about the party.”

You swallowed, you had been told that by adults more than once in the past few days. Brave, determined, and you might have been all those things, but you were also alone now. Your bravery had charged a hefty price in return. Minho noticed you were upset, and he leaned a little closer, cocking his head as he looked at you. “Have you eaten? I’m going to meet Tom at The Three Broomsticks.”

You opened your mouth to respond, and then closed it again, shaking your head in response. You were pretty sure mentioning to Minho –Mr. Healthy– of all people that you hadn’t eaten since Friday would have you listening to a very long talk about the importance of food and how it fuels your body and whatnot.

“So it’s my treat then,” Minho said as he pushed you along with him. “For saving the world!” You were about to argue. “Don’t even think about it, young lady,” he retorted.

Minho had gotten a lot bossier since he started dating Tom. You sighed and didn’t argue further, which had him throw a weary glance at you. You almost always sassed him back in some way or another. By the time the two of you arrived at the restaurant, Tom was already sitting on one of the tables with two butterbeers ordered.

“Slysprite!” he said once he spotted you, and leaned in to pull you into a hug. He also gave an awkward hug to Minho, as if both wanted to stay together for longer but knew it wouldn’t be appropriate to do it in public. Tom waited for you to sit down and handed you his jug of butterbeer. He looked at you patiently as you took a big gulp. You were about to ask Minho if he could buy you something heavier when Tom spoke again, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

Tom gave you a look. “Sirius and Remus were whispering to each other the entire train ride, James was clearly angry about it and you were nowhere to be seen. In fact, I’d dare say you left since the party on Friday. Effie said something about you feeling sick, but I didn’t buy shit. What happened?”

“Tom,” Minho said in a warning tone.

“Nope,” the blue-eyed boy said with a hand finger up as if to tell Minho not to meddle. “What happened?” he insisted.

You sighed and raised the butterbeer with your hand. “Do you have some real alcohol?”

“Minho, babe?” he said with a small pout, Minho threw him a look, but Tom called most people babe anyway. Even if Minho knew his was special. “Would you be a darling and bring this kind lady some whiskey?”

“She hasn’t eaten, Tom.”

“But she surely had breakfast, right?” You didn’t respond, only raised one of your eyebrows at him. “See, go get her some.”

Minho stood up and walked towards the bar, he was the only one old enough to buy Fire Whiskey, and he got two glasses since he knew Tom would want some, and he’d drink a bit from his glass. He also ordered fries and a dish to share.

“You look like shit,” Tom said.

“Well, thank you,” you responded and took a sip from the butterbeer, they had never felt bitter to you before, and yet this time it was almost hard to swallow the foamyness of it.

“I mean, why the hell did you leave the Potters’? Do you know how dangerous that is?”

“I’ve almost diеd plenty of times in the last couple of days,” not to mention the last couple of hours, you thought. “I had to leave.”

“Why?”

“Because!”

Minho arrived with the drinks and handed you the glass, you thanked him and dragged it to your mouth, drinking the double whiskey he’d ordered in one swing. Minho, who had barely let go of it, took hold of it again and pulled it from your mouth, as he placed the food on the centre of the table. He was sitting beside you now, using his body to cover your face from most of the restaurant “Ey, Ey!” He said. “What’s wrong?” He looked at you with genuine concern, both boys did, which only made you feel even worse.

You looked at them for a second and then turned to Minho with the hopes of changing the subject. “Tell me about your Christmas, Min. Did you see all your cousins?”

The boy sighed and turned to Tom for help. Minho would have probably responded and would have distracted you from everything that was going on, but Tom was more of the “no-nonsense” kind of guy. He looked at Minho sternly and shook his head slowly. Minho frowned at him in return, as if it pained him not to comply.

“Slysprite!” Tom chided. “You just downed a glass of Firewhisky like it was water, your face tells me you’ve slept like shit and Sirius and Remus are just as bad as you. James looks exasperated and I’m sorry to be the one to knock some sense into you, but you look like you bought a liquor store and drank it.”

“I’m not drunk.” That was true, the entire Gringotts adventure had been enough to sober you up.

“It’s not what I mean,” Tom responded pointedly. “You know it’s not what I mean.”

“I’ve had quite a fucking day, Tom.”

“Well then, go on and tell us about it. What the fuck is wrong with the boys?”

You sighed, if you didn’t say it then it wasn’t real. And yet you would say it now. “I broke up with Sirius.”

“What did he do?” Minho asked.

“Why does everyone assume it was he that did something?”

“Because it’s Sirius Black,” Tom responded. “If not then, why? You look miserable about it, so it’s not because you didn’t want to be with him.”

“Of course, it isn’t,” you said as you hid your head in between your arms and let out a sad groan.

“Then?”

“You can’t tell anyone.”

“Well, we’re both great at keeping secrets,” Minho said, and you turned to him with an incredulous look.

“That was an accident!”

“I’ll put a tongue twister spell on him after, you cool with that, babe?”

“For sure.”

You sighed, “It’s not because of what he did, it’s because of what he wouldn’t have done.”

“Which is?”

“Date Remus.”

Both boys eyed each other confused before turning to you again, your head was buried in between your arms, and you didn’t say a word.

“What?” Tom asked with a frown.

“I accidentally bumped into Remus jerking off to Sirius’ name…”

“Well, we’ve all jerked off to Sirius’ name,” Tom said as if it was a non-issue. Minho was about to protest, but after thinking about it for a second longer, he remembered he too had done it.

You threw him an exasperated look, “Maybe, but you don’t look at Sirius the way Remus does.”

Tom closed his mouth. Minho just frowned as he looked at you. What about the way he looks at you? he wondered.

“And then I felt like shit because Remus is my best friend and he likes Sirius and I was in the middle of that and–”

“But Sirius likes you,” Tom interrupted. “I’ve never seen him like anyone in the way he likes you.”

“Which is why he would have suffered in silence,” you added. “He likes Remus too,” you sighed. “After I found out, I paid closer attention. I was so bIoody blinded by his beautiful eyes, long lashes and prince-like looks. I was not looking at the way he always veered closer to Remus. Heck, I took a fucking picture of the two of them cuddling each other because I thought it was cute once I slept with them.”

“You… slept with Remus and Sirius at the same time?” Miho asked, confused.

“What? No! We were cuddling not shagging,” you said as if it made it more normal. “Anyway, I totally get it. I mean, Remus is tall and handsome and has those beautiful eyes of his that are always a different colour. He’s clever and brilliant and good at all the classes he takes, but also gentle and kind, not to mention he’s fucking ripped… I cannot blame Sirius for falling for him. And of course, I could never blame Rem for liking Sirius, I’m on the same fucking boat.”

Tom was looking at your problem, and all he could see was the solution and a very interesting one at that. But he wasn’t just outright going to say it, he had to allow you to discover it yourself. “And do tell, Slysprite, what else is there to like about Remus Lupin?” He asked sceptically. Minho looked at him with a frown and Tom gave him a reassuring nod.

“What else?” you asked in disbelief. “What isn’t to like about Remus? You know he is perceptive as fuck? He knew I was feeling down and helped me feel better, he’d met me a fucking week ago. He’s always three steps ahead of you, I swear I can never beat him on magic chess, he’s a brilliant duelist, and incredible at DADA. He knows the best book recommendations and he speaks so softly when he reads to you. When–” you hesitated. “When Nina and Mum diеd he was there to comfort me. He didn’t ask questions, he just hugged me and listened, he’d such an incredible listener. He can be moody sometimes but that just adds to how charming he is and I– I mean… he’s the best friend I could have ever asked for, I could not imagine how incredible he would be as a partner. Sirius will be lucky to have him. Anyone would.”

“Aha,” Tom said as he nodded and looked at you.

“What?”

Tom shrugged, “Nothing,” he said. “It just sounds to me that… you like him as well.”

You looked at Tom, your back straightened for a second as you pulled back, and you let out a hollow breath, then you gulped. If it hadn’t been for the dire situation you were in, Tom would have taken a picture of how hilariously dumbfounded you looked.

You groaned and buried your head in between your arms again. “Thanks, Tom! Way to make me more fucking miserable!” you mumbled.

Another thing you had been too blind to see. Fucking Ricchie had been saying that for ages, Reflection Nina had also mentioned something similar. The fox surrounded by the moon and stars? The lady at the three broomsticks? Symbolism was everywhere. Heck, you kept stealing his fucking sweaters because you loved the way they smelled.

“More miserable?” Tom scoffed a laugh. “Darling this is the best thing that could have happened to you!”

“How?!” You asked, turning back at him, tone angry and bitter.

“Well, simple: Sirius likes you and Remus, You like Remus and Sirius, Remus likes Sirius and you. It’s a throuple.”

“Remus doesn’t like me!”

“Oh, he does,” Minho said casually.

“What?” You asked as you turned to him, he seemed so sure about it.

“I’ve seen those loving eyes of Remus before, he’s smitten.”

“But that’s–” Impossible!

Is it? Really?

Remus had always been there for you. You remembered his worried expression when he found you on the snow, the hesitance by which he touched you, the way he looked at you back at the Halloween party, the way he would complain about you taking his sweaters but would always wear them after he got them back, when they still smelled of you.

The way he blushed when you teased him about Alice, how he always seemed slightly disconnected when talking about her, or sex, for that matter, with you. If he thought of you as a friend, and only as a friend, would he be uncomfortable over it? Had James ever been?

“Oh,” you said as realisation hit you. “Oh,” you said again when you realised how fucking miserable you had made them both. Of course, Remus would never go for Sirius, not if he loved you as well, it was the fucking reason you had –stupidly– broken up with Sirius in the first place. “I’ve been an idiot!”

“There it is,” Tom said with a satisfied nod and got head slapped by Minho who was a lot more comprehensive over your struggling feelings.

“Tom, you’re brilliant,” you said as you stood up from the chair and planted a kiss on his cheek. “I owe you big time, we all do!” you said thinking of your boys. Yes, your boys. Didn’t that sound delightful?”

“What are you going to do?” Minho asked.

“Find them,” you said matter of factly. “Find them and talk to them.”

“That’s the spirit,” Tom cheered and took out some parchment from his bag as the door shut behind you.

“What are you doing?” Minho asked him as he leaned over the paper.

“Writing Beth,” he said. “I think I won the bet.”

“What bet?”

“The one about those three having a very intense threesome,” Tom said casually and got another head slap from Minho.

“Oi,” he complained and pushed him playfully. Not that it did anything to Minho, Tom had always been smaller.

“Don’t bet on peoples’ feelings!” Minho chided.

“What about yours?”

“What about mine?”

“Can I bet on the feelings you have for me?” Tom asked almost in a whisper as he leaned closer to his boyfriend. He had a small smirk when he leaned back, it growing wider when he noticed the tip of Minho’s ears reddening.

“You’re such an idiot,” Minho said as he covered his face with his palms, maybe then it would be less evident how blushed he’d become.

Tom just smiled and patted him on the back, “That makes you a bigger idiot since you fell for me.”

You ran through Hogsmeade and used a disillusionment charm to walk through the back door and into the cellar. From there you climbed down the hatch and almost bumped into James as you turned to walk.

“Vixen?” he asked. He couldn’t see you at all. “Did you get an invisibility cloak or something?”

“What?” you asked, confused. “Finite incantatem,” you said and looked at him with a frown.

“It was a disillusionment charm? I couldn’t see you at all.”

“Maybe you should get your eyes checked,” you said as you leaned closer to Prongs and took his glasses from his face.

It was like you were surging with energy now, excitement and a bit of nervousness buzzing through your very atoms as you thought of being able to kiss Sirius again, of never having to stop. As you thought of how soft Remus’s lips would be on yours, how happy it would make him to know that he could have what he wanted without hurting anyone at all.

“Are you okay?” James asked, concerned. You looked nothing like what you’d sounded through the earrings.

“Totally!” you replied. “Do you know where Sirius and Remus are?”

“Well, I’m not sure… I think Slughorn wanted to talk with Remus about some potion he’s been working on with a student and he went there. Sirius…? I have no idea.”

“Do you have the map?” you asked. James shook his head and you handed back his glasses. “These seem all right to me,” you said with a shrug.

“Moony must have it,” he added, still confused.

“Oh, that’s excellent, I need to go to the dungeons then,” you said and turned around to speed off, but James caught up to you and pulled you to turn to him.

He was looking at you with concern. “Are you okay?” he asked solemnly, both hands on your shoulders as he stared at you attentively.

You were almost dragged back to reality by his question. Bad things still happened around you, dark and sad, and life-threatening things. You were still upset about what happened, but you weren’t hopeless anymore. There was light at the end of the tunnel and the fact that you wouldn’t be alone as you faced all of it was as comforting as it was thrilling. Your boys, you’d get to see your boys.

“Yeah,” you said with a small smile as you nodded. “I’m going to fix things.”

“The thing with Remus and Sirius?”

“Exactly that,” you added with a smile, James’ concern slowly turned into a small grin.

“You’re telling me you found a way to have them stop being all moody?”

“If the plan works,” you said with a shrug.

“You seem confident.”

“It’s a good plan,” you retorted. James nodded and you turned around again.

“Hey, Vix!” He said again.

“Yeah?” you asked as you turned around. James smiled from how excited you seemed, and then turned to his bag, throwing the cloak at you.

“Take this, might be useful.”

“And you?”

“I’ll disillusion myself to get out and walk back to the castle,” then he cocked his head to the side and bit his lip. “I heard Evans is going to be at Hogsmeade before dinner.”

You smiled, “Good luck!”

“You too.”

You took off again, the cloak in your hands and your small, expansion charm bag bumping against your hip as you rushed through the passage. It hadn’t been many times that you’d taken the HoneyDukes way to the castle, but it was narrower and somehow less moist than the one on the Shack.

You arrived at the one-eyed witch statue, took the cloak and wrapped it around yourself before speeding all the way to the dungeons. You stopped just outside the potions classroom. You could hear Slughorn’s voice from the door.

“So, would you be interested in taking the potion for a test?”

“You said Belby worked on this?” Remus asked.

“Yeah, I believe he collaborated with someone too, but that person didn’t want to take any of the credit. They made some kind of deal, I believe.”

“Okay,” Remus said as he took the potion in his hands and nodded. “I’ll tell you how it went next month.”

“Very well, I’d like to get all your thoughts on a paper so I can hand those to Dacmocles. You may change your handwriting or use a Quick-Quotes quill, I believe Professor McGonagall has one and will gladly lend it to you.” Remus seemed hesitant after that. “Of course, both you and your partner will get extra points for your work. Not that you need much of those.”

“Right, yes,” Remus said, trying not to grimace when the thought of you, still alone, Godric knows where, came crawling into his mind. “I’ll write the paper.”

“Brilliant!” the professor retorted and went back to check the papers on his table, which prompted Remus to exit the room with a simple nod. You smiled as you saw him pass by you, determined to get somewhere as he pulled a very familiar parchment from his sweater, and walked towards one of the secret passages you used all the time.

You walked right behind him and watched as he swore over the map and used Lumos to see the words that slowly appeared on the parchment.

“Who are you looking for?” You asked, leaning just behind him and looking at the map just from the side of his shoulder.

Remus almost jumped out of his skin, turning completely when he heard your voice, his shoulder accidentally hitting your chin since you didn’t have enough time to pull back. He didn’t notice though, too shocked about you literally appearing out of nowhere.

“Where the hell have you been?” He asked as he placed both of his hands over your shoulders and inspected your face thoroughly, trying to check if you’d been hurt.

Yeah, it could have been hell, you thought.

“We should talk.”

“I was so worried, we all were, you shouldn’t have left like that!” Remus responded, completely ignoring your words and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. Remus was scared you would push him away, he was terrified it was the last hug he gave you so he squeezed.

“I thought I had to,” you said honestly. “You like Sirius.”

Remus pulled back, “Starshine, I don’t know how you got that idea into your head but–”

“It wasn’t a question.”

“Would you let me speak?! I’m telling you, that’s ridiculous, not because I like boys does it mean–”

“Remus,” you said a little more sternly. “You don’t have to lie to me.”

“Why aren’t you bIoody listening?” He repeated, exasperated, you saw the flash of gold in his eyes. Even then, you thought it was charming. “It’s ridiculous that you think I would–”

“I don’t blame you, I like him too.”

“For Godric’s sake! I said I don’t–”

“I saw you that night, with the coat,” you rushed out before he had time to protest again.

Remus’ frown deepened. The night with the coat? He wondered, and then the images came to him, and he paled. “Whatever you thought you heard–”

“You jerking off to my boyfriend’s name, you mean?” You asked with a knowing smile. Remus was utterly dumbfounded, you weren’t half as pissed as he expected you to be. Heck, you seemed diverted.

“Is this funny to you?” Remus asked, face cold and tears welling up in his eyes.

You instantly felt terrible for the way in which you’d said it. “NO! No, of course not,” you said and took a deep breath. “I was–” you bit your lip. “When I found out I was shocked– and pissed, because I hadn’t seen it before, because it was obvious that Sirius and I being together was hurting you and–”

“It is not hurting me!” Remus defended. “You and Sirius are meant for each other and–”

“So are you and him,” you said more calmly. “Perhaps more than me and him…”

“That’s bullshit, he loves you, you know that.”

You smiled again, that knowing sort of smile Remus couldn’t quite place, “He loves you too, you know?”

Remus clenched his jaw as a frustrated exhale escaped through his nose. How ever could he respond to that? He hated this, he hated having caused you so much pain, because he was stupid and horny due to the moon and because he quite literally couldn’t keep it in his pants and because he was an idiot and–

“Remus,” you called his attention, driving him away from his destructive thoughts. “Do you like me too?” He turned to you even more shocked at your question. His face was one of anguish and despair as if he didn’t know what to say, or how to respond to such a question. “Be honest,” you added, calmly.

Remus shook his head with tears in his eyes.

“Would you take veritaserum and deny it again?”

“Are my words not enough?”

“You didn’t even speak. And they weren’t enough for you when I told you I wasn’t afraid, nor were they when I told you I thought you were beautiful.”

Remus swallowed, “Even if I did–” You were biting your lips to stop yourself from smiling. “Even if I did, it wouldn’t matter, would it? You need to go to Sirius and–”

“Remus, I like you too,” you blurted out. “I don’t how I was so stupid not to realise it before. I mean the potion at the Slug Party, the way I cuddle with you, the way I’m always happy when you’re around. The way you make me laugh, the way you smell.” You had to take in some air from how fast you were speaking. “I was blind, completely blinded by Sirius to see–”

“Do you not like Sirius anymore?” Remus asked, almost reproachingly.

You laughed, “Of course, I like him still! He might be the love of my life, but we’re all a bunch of idiots, that’s what we are!”

“Little Witch, I don’t think I’m following,” he responded confused.

You took his head in both of his hands. “You beautiful, self-sacrificing idiot,” you said then. Remus wanted to retort with you being much worse than he was, but he wanted to see what the hell you meant by that more. You licked your lips, enticed to kiss his own, but you knew you had to talk to Sirius about it first. “Don’t you see? We’re all pinning for each other, mutually.”

He didn’t speak, so you took that as a sign to continue, “You like me and Sirius, I like you and Sirius and Sirius liked the both of us.”

“You’re saying–” he stammered, “you’re saying you want us all to be together?”

“Well, wouldn’t that be the only natural solution? We were already together all the time–”

“I don’t know about natural,” he muttered, you smiled.

“The only difference would be that you could act on your desires and Sirius could act on his. Wouldn’t that make you happy?”

“Would it make you happy?”

“It would make me ecstatic!” you replied with a smile. “And I’m sure Sirius even more so, he’s been pining for you while being with me, he must have felt terribly guilty about it, but he never had to be. Besides, it’s not like it’s the first time three people have fallen in love with each other.”

“It’s a love triangle,” Remus huffed a laugh as he rolled his eyes.

“But none of us has to be alone in the end,” you added with a smile, as you bit your lip, and then pressed a kiss to his cheek, right next to the spot your thumb had been resting on. Remus’ smile only widened and he leaned in to kiss you, but you turned your head before your lips clashed with each other.

You didn’t miss the hurt look on his handsome features and you pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry,” you said, voice muffled by his shirt. “You don’t know how much I wanted you to do that, but we need to speak to Sirius first. No more lies, we all need to be honest with each other this time around.”

“Sirius is gonna flip out when we tell him,” he muttered into your head. “He’s been sulking over being an idiot for falling in love with me since you left.”

“Then we’re both idiots,” you said with a small smile, still hugging Remus tightly. “Did you guys figure each other out?”

Remus pulled back with a sceptical look. “Did you really think if you left, we were just going to start dating?”

“You didn’t?”

“Of course not!” he replied. “We were both upset, you left with no wand and alone! Nobody knew where you’d gone to, let alone if you were safe wherever you’d been and you were breaking apart because of Christmas. Sirius was drowning in guilt and to be honest, I wasn’t much better. We would have never been happy if we thought you were upset.”

You bit your lip, looking down and thinking how much quicker things would have gotten solved if instead of running away, you had faced the issue head-on. If instead of leaving, you had brought Remus to the kitchen and forced him to talk things through with the two of you.

Of course, you didn’t know he liked you too then, but perhaps you wouldn’t have had to go through Gringotts alone if you had. You wouldn’t have gone through those lonely, almost desolate days in which you drowned yourself in alcohol.

“I guess it makes sense,” you said with a sad smile. “I couldn’t have continued on with Sirius if I thought it was hurting you either. Of that I was certain.”

“As if you being with Sirius hadn’t already broken half of the school’s hearts,” Remus huffed.

You looked up at him with a smile, “Perhaps, but none of those hearts belong to my best friend.”

You saw the faintest blush creep up on Remus’s cheeks, you were again tempted to pull him into a kiss, and you willed yourself to stop. Not until we talk to Sirius about it.

“We should go to him,” you said with resolution. “Where is he?” you asked as you leaned down and picked the map up from the floor.

“I was looking for you,” Remus admitted, as he leaned closer to you, helping you open the map as you held it. “I wanted to find you as soon as you got to the castle so both Sirius and I could ambush you. I was going to try and convince you I didn’t like him.”

“More lies?”

“You told Sirius you didn’t like him anymore,” he sassed back. He didn’t have to say it, you knew how hypocritical it was.

You huffed, “Maybe being in love really does make you more stupid,” you mumbled as your eyes scanned through the map. You saw Peter in the broom closet again, which made you assume he was “greeting” Annie Doxon. James was not at the castle, so he was probably still with Lily back at Hogsmeade. Some of the teachers were in their classrooms, the prefects were helping some of the first years out, or so you assumed since most of them were walking at rather random places inside the castle. The kind of which only the newer kids ended up in.

“There,” Remus said. “Gryffindor tower, he must be in our room.”

“Looks like we’ve set direction, captain,” you said with a smile.

Remus smiled, but he faltered just seconds later. “Wait! How are you?”

“Very excited about talking to Sirius.”

“I don’t mean that,” Remus reproached. “I mean about Christmas.”

You swallowed, and you took a deep breath. “I’m better,” you said honestly. “Well, at least I think I am. Kind of? Something happened in Diagon, I’ll tell both of you all about it after we’ve sorted this out, does that sound fair? One problem at a time…”

“Will you actually talk about it?”

You nodded, “I think I avoided the subject so much that it came crashing onto me like a full-speed train, but perhaps I needed that.”

Remus gave you a weary look, clearly preoccupied with what you’d said, but he was certain he wouldn’t get anything else from you if you didn’t have that “Sirius talk” first. He nodded, still biting his lip as he placed a hand behind your shoulders and pushed you right in front of him, towards Gryffindor Tower.

It was almost as if going through that first time you met him, when he took you to the passages so you didn’t get busted for being out late. You smiled as you walked, and at some point pulled out Nina’s wand to get some more light out.

“Lumos,” you whispered. The light was blinding enough to illuminate the entire place before you managed to dim it.

“What the– you bought a new wand?” Remus asked.

You turned to him and showed him Nina’s. “Olivander refused to sell one to me, he said this one was meant to be mine.”

“It’s…” he hesitated, he wasn’t sure he wanted to say her name. Every time they mentioned it you would instantly shut them out and become distant, and last time he suggested you use her wand, you were pretty clear when you told him why you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to remember everything that had happened every time you made a spell.

“Nina’s,” you finished for him. “Yeah, a lot of stuff happened in Diagon.”

He placed a reassuring hand behind your neck, he was warm, and you hadn’t quite realised how much you craved his touch until you felt the pads of his fingers brush against your skin. You leaned closer to his hand almost instantly, relaxing into his touch.

He smiled when he noticed and started playing with the hair at the nape of your neck. Remus had always known you liked being coddled, but at the same time he tried to maintain a decent distance since you were dating Sirius, but the fact that he could give you the type of solace he yearned to give, was somehow comforting to him in itself. Like that time when he found you on the snow, but without feeling terrible for betraying his best friend.

He was soft as he made his touch a little more purposeful, finding the tense muscles and pressing onto them with his warm hand, it was delightful, to say the least. “Is that okay?” he asked hesitantly.

“It’s perfect,” you said honestly. “I knew you were good at petting, I mean you were brilliant with Vixen but –yeah there– I had no clue you’d be this good with humans.”

Remus laughed at your praise to hide his blush, not that you were looking at him, your gaze was still focused ahead of you and you were carefully counting the turns, not to get lost. It was something you did often when you were inside the passages, and Remus thought the way you muttered 2 left, 1 right, straight, etc. was adorable.

“I’ve got my hidden talents. Really good with my hands,” he replied with a bit of a smirk. “I’ll show them to you one day.”

“Godric, Remus!” you said as you turned to him with a shocked scoff. “Who would have thought shy old Moony could be such a flirt?”

“Only when it matters,” he said with a smile and then squeezed both his fingers onto a knot in your neck and you almost moaned. “I wasn’t lying.”

“Show off!” you said as you rolled your eyes and swatted him playfully on the chest. This is nice, you thought. You missed being able to interact with them so casually. It was like you’d been walking on needles for too long, and suddenly you were taken to a soft meadow.

By the time you were close to the exit on the passage, you unfolded James’ cloak again, and placed it around yourself, that way you could follow Remus all the way to his room without being spotted.

“Stand close,” he said.

You refrained from teasing him over it, deciding you’d tease him mercilessly once Sirius was in on the discovery. Remus walked inside the common room, greeted some of your classmates with a simple wave, and continued walking towards his room. The path you already knew so well, you could follow in almost complete darkness. Remus was about to open the door before he turned, looking over his shoulder before muttering, “Should I go in first or–”

You disillusioned yourself and passed the cloak over his head once you made sure there was nobody else in the hall. “I’ll go in first. I should probably apologise to him,” you responded. Remus nodded. “Give me five minutes and then come inside.”

You walked in, Sirius was sitting on Remus’ bed, head down and staring at his hands as he picked on his nails and bobbed his leg up and down. He didn’t look up when he heard the door, he seemed to be lost in thought. You saw a clear tear fall over his hand, and he was quick to wipe it out with his thumb.

“Puppy?” you asked as you deactivated the charm.

He sprung from the bed in a second, his eyes were red-rimmed and he looked as bad, if not worse, than when you left him crying in James’ kitchen. “Starshine?” he asked, as he spotted you, as if he didn’t believe his eyes. And just like Remus had done, he went straight to wrap his arms around you and push you to him. “I thought I’d have to go look for you as soon as you got here. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you said as you hugged him back, tightening your arms around him. “I’m so sorry,” you said then, thinking of how sad he was and how much you’d hurt him. Thinking of the moment when he’d begged you to be selfish for him and instead of complying, you’d lied and told him you didn’t love him. “I lied, I do love you! Don’t ever doubt that.”

He pulled back, looking at you as confused as Remus had been earlier, more so when he was the tears pricking your eyes, “Starshine, what are you talking about? I’m the one that fucked up, I’m the one that–”

“You asked me to be selfish for you, you told me to stop being the hero and I ignored your pleas, I only succeeded in making all of us miserable and–”

“But it was I the one who fell in love with his best friend while dating you, It was I the one that… I should be on my knees beginning for forgiveness.”

“No!” you said then. “There’s nothing to forgive! I was the idiot for leaving, not you!”

“What?” Sirius asked, even more confused, and terrified that the inch of hope you’d created wasn’t real… What if he was dreaming of you again?

“I talked to Remus,” you said then.

“Wait, you did? Are you convinced he's not into me, then?”

“Godric, no! He definitely likes you.”

“So then… why are you– you don’t seem angry about it.”

“Yeah,” you choked a laugh, cheeks wet with some tears still, but stretching into a smile. “You see there’s one thing I hadn’t realised, one thing that was the key to solving this puzzle we’ve been dancing around for months, and I wish I hadn’t been as oblivious to it, we would have spared the three of us a heartache.”

Sirius looked at you as you rambled, not sure he understood what you were going on about. It was like you discussing muggle books with Remus that he hadn’t read, he understood the words, but other than that it was like you were speaking a different language.

“And I’ve always said I’ve been so good at reading people, I was embarrassingly stupid in interpreting my own feelings, to our feelings, that I allowed myself to wallow in my own self pity, and in my own little hole of darkness, too obscure to see the bigger picture and–”

“Étoile, you’re rambling.”

You shot your mouth and looked at him with an owlish gaze, you took a deep breath, thinking of how to break it up to him. “Sirius, when you think of me kissing anyone but you, what do you feel?”

“Anyone but me?”

“Imagine me kissing Peter.”

Sirius couldn’t quite hold back the sombering of his gaze. You had analysed everything that had happened since you met them, and you had a pretty good idea of what you were about to do, if things went awry though, you weren’t sure you’d be able to withstand the heartache that would ensue.

“Why do you–”

“What if it was James? Alex? Tom?” you pressed. Sirius gave you a sorrowful look now. Were you trying to tell him how upset you’d felt over the fact that he liked Remus? It was certainly working.

“Starshine, I–”

“What if it was Marlene?” His expression was still dull, although rather curious, “Beth? Sybil? Evan?”

He cringed at the last one, “I think I get what you–”

“What about me kissing Remus?” His expression changed, you didn’t need to prickle into his mind to know what he was thinking. Although you had been tempted to try legilimency, deep down you knew it would be unfair. “I’ve done it before, remember? At Marlene’s party near the beginning of the year?”

Sirius remembered it. Of course, he did, there was no way in hell he didn’t, you had been sitting on his lap while you made out with his best friend. That day he thought that might have been the hottest thing to ever happen in his life, but he assumed it was about seeing you kiss, and imagining himself in Remus’ place, rather than seeing the both of you kissing each other. He gulped.

“Sirius, how would you feel if I kissed him?”

He didn’t know how to respond. He couldn’t tell the truth, could he? Wouldn’t that upset you further? Make you feel like the entire relationship had been a lie?

“I mean–” he stuttered, “It would–”

“Sirius,” you said softly as you pressed your hand to his cheek. “I want you to be honest, above everything else. Does that sound fair?” He didn’t respond, he only gave you a pleading look. “We’ve lied to each other and ourselves enough.”

That was like an arrow straight to the heart. Cupid, you traitorous beast, how could you do this to us? he thought as he tried to find his words again. His tongue felt stale inside his mouth, his lips were shut tight like a statue’s, it was as if he couldn’t speak, even if he wanted to.

“Would it upset you?”

“No,” he mumbled, so low it was almost inaudible. “It wouldn’t.”

You nodded, and then leaned your head to the side, searching for his downcast eyes before you said, “It wouldn’t upset me either… I mean, it wouldn’t upset me to see you kissing Remus.”

“What do you mean–”

“Remember that night I took a picture of the two of you cuddling each other? I always found it adorable.”

“I was figuring out I liked him back then…” Sirius mumbled, and you smiled.

“Well, I was never jealous. I could never be jealous of Moony,” you explained. “The fact that he liked you and you liked him was not the reason I left.”

“Then why–”

“Cause I thought I was causing the both of you pain by being in the middle, the obstacle that prevented the two of you from–”

“You could NEVER be an obstacle!” he rushed out.

“I know,” you reassured with a smile. “Do you want to know what the last piece of the puzzle was?” Sirius nodded, and you smiled. “Turns out Moony dear, did not only have a crush on you.” Sirius frowned at that, about to ask what you meant but you beat him to it. “He likes me too. He liked the both of us, from the very start.”

“Moony what?!?” He asked, shocked.

“And really, we should have seen it sooner, I mean Remus is good at keeping his secrets, but Moony with Padfoot and Vixen? He’s absolute trash at it, it was as obvious as a Sytherin trying to pass as a Gryffindor. We should have known!”

“So you’re saying that…”

“WE’RE ALL INTO EACH OTHER!”

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: Well, what just happened?

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piedinthepiper · 10 months ago

Text

You owe me (pt. 2) ☆

Mafia!Jungkook x psychologist!reader x mafia!Taehyung (slightly)

Summary: His efforts seem pointless. But when it comes to jealousy, anger and you, he just can’t help himself. And neither can you.

Warnings: yandere!Jungkook, dubcon, stalking?, breaking and entering, mention of murder, mention of other types of crimes, angst, weapons (a knife), cursing, male m, descriptive smut, angst

Wc: 7.4k

A/n: Thank you guys so much for all the feedback on this fic. Since so many wanted a part 2 I made a part 2! Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: This is 100% fiction. I am in no way saying that this is how any member of bts would act. Nor do I condone the actions detailed in the story. This is purely for entertainment purposes only. If any of the warnings trigger you, or you’re under 18 ¡do not read! I’m not your mother, and I don’t take any accountability for what you decide to read online!

Parts: | 1 | 2 |

Your back felt a sudden relief as you finally laid down in bed. It had been a long day. A very long day. A new patient took up almost all you time. Taehyung Kim. He was being charged with robbery and murder, and his lawyer had hired you to potentially give him a diagnosis that could help him in court.

You had to assign some of your other patients to a few of your coworkers, just to make time for him. But this is what you love doing. You wanted to help. Especially now, after what you learned about your entire career. You wanted to prove yourself. You knew you were good.

You turned off you lights and put your phone on the nightstand. Finally you were in the comfort of your own bed. Ready to fall asleep and dream the night away. Trying not to think about how early you had to wake up tomorrow. You had finally found a comfortable sleeping position after squirming around a bit. You felt all your muscles relax, starting to recognise the slow fade of sleep.

But suddenly a loud noice filled the room. Your body tensed again, jumping at the sudden sound. You rolled your eyes as you turned around, annoyed at yourself that you forgot to turn on ‘do not disturb’. Your phone screen lit up in your face, you squinted at the bright light hitting your eyes. You managed to decipher a message from an unknown number. You didn’t open it, writing a mental note to check it out tomorrow. If it was one of your patients they would have to wait until the morning. It was almost unprofessional to answer a text at 1 am.

You entered the doors to your workplace, expecting to see Erin behind the counter smiling at you.

“Good morning, Erin.”

You said like you always do. You halted once you saw her sitting there, not smiling, not saying anything. She just looked at you with a concerning look. Before you could ask her what’s wrong you looked over at the waiting chairs. You had seen a person in your peripheral view, something that was odd considering the office wasn’t even open to patients yet. You quickly understood what was going on once you saw who was sitting there.

“Good morning, Doctor.”

His familiar voice filled the dead quiet room. It had almost been a year since you last saw him. He had not contacted you after the incident in your office. You had almost, almost, forgotten him. But there he was, looking the exact same as you remembered him.

“Mr. Jeon.”

You stated. Not really knowing what to say. You were caught off guard by the whole situation. Some naive part of you thought that he had gotten what he wanted and would leave you alone. Forever.

“I thought you had stopped calling me that. Aren’t we more intimate at this point?”

You sighed at his question. Looking over at Erin for a second to see if she understood what he meant.

“He said he wanted to see you. I told him we wer-“

“It’s fine Erin, Mr. Jeon can be quite persuasive.”

You interrupted her as she started to apologise for letting him in. You looked back to him. His classic smirk was plastered on his face.

“I have an hour before my first patient arrives.”

You said and looked quickly at your wristwatch, before starting to walk down the hall towards your office. You heard his footsteps following behind you.

Once inside your office you took off your jacket and hung it up before sitting down behind your desk. He was quick to sit down on the sofa. A sense of deja vu washed over you.

“Why are you here, Jungkook?”

He looked confused by your question.

“You didn’t see my messages? Or my voicemails?”

It was your turn to look confused, as you couldn’t remember getting any texts or calls from him.

“Maybe you were asleep, I don’t know.”

He shrugged. You remembered the message from last night. The one you didn’t bother to read. You picked your phone up from your bag, turning off ‘do not disturb’. Hundreds of notifications from the same number appeared on your lock screen.

“You were the one that messaged me last night?”

You asked as you opened your phone.

“So you did read them?”

He asked in excitement. You shook your head at his question, too focused on your phone. You opened iMessage and hit the top notification. A series of long paragraphs of text appeared.

“I didn’t think it was you.”

You mumbled as you scrolled upwards trying to get to the start of what he had sent you.

“Listen, I’ll just tell you. It feels weird to watch you read something I poured my heart into.”

You looked up at him, before you put the phone down on your desk. Crossing your arms over your chest.

“Be quick.”

He thought for a second about where to start and what the most important things to tell you were.

“I just wanted to tell you that I’m ready now.”

The room went quiet as you waited for him to continue. He didn’t.

“What are you talking about?”

You asked confused.

“That’s the brief version of it. You told me to be quick.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“I think I need a little more than that.”

He smiled at you like a child telling a joke for the first time. He leaned slightly forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“I’ve seen another psychologist. He’s helped me a lot. I’m doing well, I’m not some self absorbed dick, I’m not so angry anymore. And I’ve gotten to know your father as well. I’ve done my end of the promise, now it’s your turn, y/n.”

He got serious at the last sentence. Shifting his eyes from the innocent doe, to the man you remembered from your last meeting.

“You went to my father?”

You asked in shock, not caring for whatever he said after that.

“Yeah. Might as well get to know my future father-in-law a little better while I fulfilled my promise.”

You let your head fall down to your hands, and let out a long sigh. Visibly showing him that you were upset.

“I’m happy you’re doing better, I really am. But I did not promise you anything. Definitely not to marry you.”

His eyes changed again. You could tell he was upset.

“Don’t you think you owe me that?”

He asked slyly, cocking his head slightly to the side. You shook your head.

“You can’t hold that over my head forever. It’s not fair!”

You answered strictly.

“I’m not holding it over your head, baby. I’m asking you.”

“Well, then my answer is no. I don’t owe you shit. Now get out of my office.”

You answered quickly. Wanting him to leave so you didn’t get too upset, and started making bad decisions again.

“We don’t have to get married right away, or not at all if you just want to be my girlfriend.”

He offered. You suddenly stood up from your chair, pointing angrily towards the door.

“Out.”

You said.

“I don’t care if I owe you. I don’t care if you’ve gotten better. You’re still a mobster, you’re still a murderer and you’re still a sociopath. I could never date you. I could never even be friends with you. Don’t you understand?”

You ranted when he didn’t leave the sofa. He shook his head and kept his eyes on the floor.

“It’s him isn’t it?”

He asked, still not looking up at you. He was frightening like that. You felt the same fear, you felt the first time he talked to you like that. He was showing his true colours.

“Who?”

You asked carefully as you sat back down again. He looked up at you with anger and jealousy in his eyes.

“Your new patient. The jailbird, you spend a lot of time with him.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Yes, and? He’s nothing but my patient.”

“Are you sure? I’ve seen him on the news, he’s quite attractive. Just your type.”

You scoffed and gave him an offended look.

“Yes I’m sure. Who are you to accuse me of having an affair with a patient?”

“Because you had one with me.”

You sighed.

“We did not have an affair.”

You stated, not daring to look him in the eyes.

“Then what do you call it?”

The room got quiet. To be honest you never thought about what you would call it. You didn’t want to think about it at all. It went against everything you stood for.

“Please, just leave.”

You said, you felt your eyes getting watery for some reason. Maybe it was because you were scared, or surprised. Or maybe even sad to see him again.

“I can tell you’re upset. We still need to work things out. Can we talk sometime? Not here, somewhere not so formal.”

You looked up at him again. His eyes were soft, he seemed to really care that you were affected negatively by this. For some reason you found it endearing.

“You can come to my place, we can talk and-“

“There’s no way I’m voluntarily going to your place.”

You interrupted him. He looked down in defeat for a few seconds.

“Please, y/n. I just want to show you that I’m better. I want to show you all I’ve done for you. I don’t want to argue with you.”

He said softly. His eyes were also teary now. You hated yourself for getting affected by his feelings. You hated that you thought this was a tender moment.

“Do you promise that we’ll only be talking?”

You asked. Not knowing why you were agreeing to this in the first place. Maybe you were naive, but it seemed that he actually had changed. Even if he still was delusional and obsessive.

“Of course, I would never do anything to harm you. I love you.”

He said, slightly excited. The room got quiet once again. You had silently agreed to meet him at his place.

“I’ll send you the address. I’ll see you on Thursday.”

He said, before getting up and walking out the door.

“Wait-“

You tried to say, but he was already gone. You wouldn’t be able to make it on Thursday.

You sat down at the table, waiting for the guards to bring in Mr. Kim. This week had been stressful. Not only because of your case with Mr. Kim, but also because of all your other patients. It was hard having time for them while handling such a big case as his. You had to work overtime the entire week, and you were exhausted.

“Good afternoon, y/n.”

He said as two guards brought him in. He had learned your first name quickly, and refused to use your title or last name.

“Hello, Mr. Kim. How are you?”

He smiled, and waited to answer until the guards had chained his legs to the table and left the room. You never felt unsafe being alone with him, even if he was a convicted murderer. His hands were always handcuffed, the same with his legs, so he couldn’t reach you. You knew the guards watched you from outside the big tinted glass. It allowed you to lower your guard, and treat him like you treat your other patients.

“I’m doing amazing now that you’re here.”

He said and smirked. Like Jungkook said, he was attractive. His hair was always combed back, and the all grey clothing actually suited him. He had some kind of lightning tattoo that went up his neck, due to his clothing you didn’t know if he had any more of them.

“How are you, sweetheart?”

He asked back. Still keeping intense eye contact with you.

“We did talk about not calling me anything but my name, do you remember that?”

You asked him strictly. He chuckled.

“It’s hard not to call you something you are, don’t you like compliments?”

You started taking off your coat. It was cold when you entered, but with two people in the little room it was too warm to keep your wool coat on.

“We’re not here to talk about me. I’ve given you permission to use my first name, that’s all.”

You said as you draped the coat over your chair. You looked back at him, he wasn’t looking you in your eyes anymore. This time his eyes were focused on your exposed cleavage. You hadn’t worn low cut tops with him yet, only oversized jumpers due to the weather. You suddenly became very aware of yourself and pulled your top up, trying to hide more of your cleavage. His eyes went back to your face, and you decided that you would wear something less revealing next time.

“Whatever you say, y/n.”

He put extra pressure on your name this time. You gave him a small smile, before you looked down at your notes.

“Why don’t we start were we ended things? Do you remember what I told you I wanted us to talk about?”

He sighed, but nodded.

“My teenage years?”

He asked. You nodded back at him.

“I was a good teenager, I didn’t do drugs, I came home before my curfew, did well in school.”

He memorised.

“But I did like girls. I really did. It was my weakness.”

He said, quickly flickering his eyes down to your cleavage again.

“Why do you say it was your weakness?”

You asked, writing it down in your notes. He started smirking again.

“Since I was such a good teenager, I stayed home a lot. After I did my homework or studied for tests I didn’t have anything to do. Until I found porn.”

He let out a groan, almost like he was in pleasure just by the thought.

“I would spend all day just jerking off to random girls online. Whenever I saw a pretty girl outside I would go straight home and jerk off to her too.”

You felt yourself getting a bit uncomfortable at his bluntness, but didn’t say anything to let him continue. You focused on your notes instead.

“It would take up my entire day, I felt crazy at times. And now that I don’t have anything to do, I find myself doing the same in my cell.”

You nodded, still looking down at your notes. Not wanting to look at him while he talked about something so intimate.

“But the only one I can think about is you.”

He said almost as if he was out of breath. You finally looked at him. And saw that one of his hands had slid under the waistband of his trousers.

“Come over here and sit on me, baby.”

He moaned. You didn’t know what to do or say, you froze. The door opened and two guards came in.

“No- please! Y/n! Please fuck me! I need you. I fucking need you so bad!”

He yelled as he was practically carried out of the room. You sat there speechless, in the now empty room.

“I think it’s best for him to have a male psychologist, I can no longer treat him.”

You called Mr. Kim’s lawyer the minute you sat down in your car. You told him what had happened.

“I’m sorry this happened to you.”

He said back.

“I’ll send all my notes to the man you’ll appoint.”

“Thank you for your help, Dr. Y/l/n.”

You said a small goodbye, before you hung up. While you were driving home you started to think about what happened today. You felt useless and it felt unfair. Why did you have to end up in all kinds of mess. First it was Jungkook, and now Mr. Kim.

Jungkook. You had completely forgot that you were supposed to meet him today. You sighed. Meeting him was the last thing you wanted to do. Maybe it was better to just say you forgot if he contacts you again. Since your session ended earlier than expected, you would actually have time to eat a proper meal and go to bed at a reasonable time. And with Mr. Kim’s case being transferred to someone else, you could finally use all your time on your normal patients. Even if the day had been horrible, you still had a massive weight lifted off your shoulders.

You walked up to your door, struggling with your keys to find the right one. Once you found it you put it in the keyhole and twisted, hearing the familiar click. You reached for the door handle and attempted to open it. But it didn’t budge. Did you not lock your door this morning? You twisted the key the other way again, and thought that it must be the exhaustion taking a toll on you.

When you finally were inside your own house you took off your coat and hung it up with your bag. You took off your shoes and looked at yourself in the big mirror you have in your hallway. You looked down at the white low cut top. It wasn’t even that low, but a part of your cleavage did show. In what felt like a fit of rage you took it off yourself. Hurriedly lifting it over your head and throwing it on the floor. You never wanted to wear that top again. You stormed over to the kitchen. You needed something to drink, you were so thirsty. So thirsty that you failed to notice the man sitting in your sofa. You swung the fridge door open, grabbing a carton of orange juice and downing what was left of it.

“Rough day?”

A voice emitted. You jumped and your heart started raising. You looked over at the sofa where the voice came from. Jungkook? Jungkook. You quickly ducked down behind the counter, remembering that you were only in your bra.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?!”

You yelled at him. You wanted to cry, you wanted to scream, you were so confused. What was going on?

“Y/n, calm down! Please.”

You heard him get up from the sofa, taking hasty steps towards you. Your fight or flight instinct kicked in and you suddenly jumped up again and grabbed a knife. Pointing it towards him. He quickly halted, putting his hands slightly up in front of him.

“Come on, it’s just me.”

He said, leaning his head to the side.

“Exactly!”

You said, slowly moving away from him.

“Why are you here? How did you get in?”

You yelled at him, firmly holding the knife between the two of you.

“Baby, please calm down.”

“How can I calm down?! You broke into my house!”

He sighed, and went quiet for a moment.

“Put the knife down, you know I won’t do anything to you. Please, let’s just talk. That’s why I’m here.”

He said in a calm voice. You shook your head, you felt like you were going to have a panic attack. This was all too much for you. You threw the knife onto the kitchen counter and covered your eyes. You started crying. You were so overwhelmed. From the situation earlier today, to Jungkook suddenly appearing in your life again, to just the pure exhaustion. You needed to cry. You couldn’t hold it back anymore. You couldn’t put up the facade you usually do. And suddenly you felt two arms wrapping around you. He hugged you. And for a moment you leaned into it. You felt safe in his arms. It comforted you. It reminded you of when your father hugged you after your first boyfriend broke up with you. It was like knowing that someone cared for you when you felt as if the whole world was against you. Until you remembered who was hugging you. Because it definitely wasn’t your father. And the reality of you standing in just your bra with someone that broke into your house hit.

“Get off of me!”

You suddenly screamed, and started pushing his strong chest. Tears still streaming down your face.

“I hate you! I fucking hate you, Jungkook! My life has been a nightmare since the minute I met you!”

You screamed at him with all your lung capacity. Your throat got immediately sore.

“You’re fucking crazy! And I’m tired of playing your fucking games!”

He took several steps away from you, but you walked after him. Pointing your finger in his face.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you?! How can you be so fucking awful?! You’re an awful person!”

He continued to stay silent through your fit of rage. Letting you ride it out.

“I hate you.”

You said, calming down but still crying.

“I hate you so much.”

You said taking a deep breath. You wiped your tears. He didn’t say anything. He just stood there. Speechless. You adverted your eyes to the floor.

“Please leave. Can you please leave me alone? Please, just-“

You started, continuing to wipe your tears. You had resulted to begging him to leave your life.

“I can’t do this anymore, Jungkook. I can’t.”

He grabbed your chin softly, raising your head up to meat his eyes. He was also crying. He silently kissed you. And you let him, too exhausted to do anything else. He pecked your lips, before walking away. He left you there, all alone in your kitchen. As you heard the door close behind him you fell down to the floor. Continuing to weep.

After a month of silence from your former patient you felt content. It had been a month, and there was no sign of him. Your life had gone back to normal again. It was definitely a good thing to tell him exactly what you meant. This time you had been harsh on him, to make him understand you were definitely not interested.

After three months you started thinking that maybe you had been too harsh on him. Maybe you should’ve eased him out of your life. Not gone all crazy on him. But he didn’t contact you, and you were definitely not going to contact him. So telling him that you were sorry was out of the question.

On the fourth month you thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to contact him. Just to tell him you were sorry for being mean of course. He was really attached to you in his own weird way. Getting rejected by someone you had planned out your entire life with must be hard. What if he had gone back to his old ways? What if your rejection caused him to live in agony? To fall into depression?

On the fifth month you found yourself standing in the lobby of his hotel. If you were going to apologise, you were going to do it in person. That’s way more genuine rather than over a text. You definitely didn’t want to see him again, but anything for a real heartfelt apology!

“I’d like to see Mr. Jeon, is he here?”

You asked before the receptionist could say anything. He smiled at you.

“Is Mr. Jeon expecting you?”

He asked in a costumer support voice. You shook your head.

“No he isn’t.”

You answered short.

“I’m sorry, but I can’t give you access to his suite if he’s not expecting you.”

You rolled your eyes. You knew you had to lie.

“He’s not expecting me, but I’m his psychologist, ok? I need to talk with him, it’s important.”

You said in your serious voice. Shoving your business card in his face like you were a cop.

“I’m sorry-“

“You will be sorry if you don’t help me out here.”

You hit your palms onto the counter before you. The man slightly jumped at your action.

“Look, I’m not asking for the fucking key to his nightstand, I just want to know his room number for gods sake!”

You were starting to get annoyed at the poor man just trying to do his job. He looked quite frightened at your outburst. He thought for a second, before he nodded.

“717.”

He simply said. You thanked him and hurried over to the elevator. Once you reached his door you stopped yourself. Was this really the right thing to do? Maybe you should just leave, he wasn’t your concern anymore. Why weren’t you happy he was out of your life? Why? Why? Why?! The door suddenly opened, and you were sucked out of your thoughts. A man stood there, a familiar man, but not Jungkook.

“Hello, sweetheart.”

He said with a smirk on his face. He quickly pulled you into a hug. Letting his hands drop dangerously low on your waist. He took a deep inhale of your hair, letting out a small groan. It gave you instantly chills in all the wrong places. You tried pulling away from the incredibly awkward hug, but his grip on you was tight. He decided when the hug ended, but stayed close to you. Resting his hands on your hips.

“Let go of me! What are you doing here?”

You asked him and tried to get som distance from him, pushing at his chest. But his strong grip on your hips didn’t loosen.

“What are you doing here is the real question. A pretty woman like you shouldn’t be in a hotel like this.”

“Get off of me!”

He smirked and leaned in closer to you again. Whispering in your ear.

“Why don’t you come with me to my room? I still can’t get you off my mind, sweetheart.”

Someone cleared their throat loudly next to you. Taehyung reacted immediately. Jungkook. You looked at him, but he didn’t look at you. His eyes were focused on Taehyungs hands, planted on your hips.

“She said ‘get off’.”

He almost growled. Taehyung smiled, but removed his hands. Putting them defensively up in the air.

“Sorry, boss. Just had to catch up with my psychologist. She’s the girl I told you about.”

Taehyung started. You were in shock. They knew each other?

“I know.”

He answered and looked at you for the first time. There was a sort of a melancholy feeling in his eyes.

“You know it all, man. I’ll just-“

“Leave.”

Jungkook finished his sentence for him.

“Yeah, leave. I’ll leave. Nice seeing you again, y/n. We have to meet up sometime.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

You answered quickly, not taking your eyes off Jungkook.

“I won’t take no for an answer, baby.”

Taehyung said and stepped closer to you again.

“Yes you will, now leave.”

Jungkook said strictly.

“Okaaay, I’ll leave. Whatever.”

He said and walked away. You followed Taehyung with your eyes, watching as he disappeared into one of the rooms down the hall. When you looked back at Jungkook, you discovered he had been staring at you the entire time. You felt anger building up inside you.

“Don’t tell me this is what I think it is.”

You said, you almost sounded hurt.

“It’s not like that.”

He answered. You rolled your eyes at him. He didn’t exactly sound convincing. You had no intention of apologising to him anymore.

“Let me guess, you didn’t hire Mr. Kim to ruin my case so I could run back right into your arms? It was just a convenience that you were waiting for me when I came home, right?”

You asked in a sarcastic tone. He went quiet. You scoffed and turned to walk away. He grabbed your arm harshly so you couldn’t leave.

“I didn’t, I promise. Let me explain, please.

You sighed.

“Let me go.”

He shook his head.

“Y/n, just come-“

“Let me go.”

You interrupted him. After a few seconds he listened to you, and let go of your arm. You stood still, contemplating if you should leave for good this time. Instead, you slipped passed him into his room. His suite was huge, it was more like an apartment really. Modern with expensive furniture and paintings scattered around the room. He had a lot of money, you knew that, but you didn’t know it was to this extent.

“You better explain-“

You were suddenly caught off guard by his strong arms turning you around and embracing you in a tight hug.

“You came back to me! I knew you would! Oh, I’m so happy to see you again, baby!”

He said in a boyish tone. It was a sharp contrast to his interaction with Taehyung. You weren’t able to immediately react, getting lost in the feeling of his arms wrapped around you once again.

“Stop it, Jungkook. I’m still angry with you.”

You said and wiggled out of his hug. He looked at you with hurt in his eyes as he saw you brushing off imaginary dust from your skirt.

“I understand. Sit, I’ll get you something to drink.”

He said and walked out of the room. You did as you were told, sitting down on his white cashmere sofa. He came back with two cups of tea, placing them carefully on the glass table before sitting down beside you. You didn’t say anything, you waited for him to say the first word.

“Just uh- please just listen to me ok?”

He asked and looked at you. You nodded.

“I didn’t exactly plan this. Taehyung was stupid enough to get caught and ended up in prison. I told my lawyer to get you on his case. I knew a case like that would be amazing for your career.”

You shook your head disappointedly.

“I’ve told you I don’t want your help. Why-“

“Listen, y/n. Please just let me explain.”

You sighed and crossed your arms, but you stayed silent.

“Anyways, after a while he confessed to me that he was in love with you.”

You watched his entire body go stiff at his statement. He clenched his fists in jealousy.

“You know I’m willing to go lengths for you to succeed, baby. But- I had to stop him. I refuse to let him have you like that. Especially when we weren’t even talking to each other. So that night I sent you all those messages.”

He unclenched his hands and put his hand carefully on your knee.

“I knew he would do whatever I told him to, so I said if he got you out of the case I’d get him out of prison.”

“So you asked him to jerk off in front of me?”

Jungkooks face changed drastically. He did not seem pleased about the new piece of information you just gave him.

“He did that?”

He asked, his tone had changed from apologetic to dangerous. You nodded. His grip around your knee tightened. You put your hand over his, to show him that he was hurting you.

“I’m going to fucking kill him.”

He said looking you straight in the eye. Another set of chills ran down your back. You knew he meant it. It was not a loose threat.

“This isn’t about him, Jungkook. You pushed him do it. And then you broke into my house, expecting to be treated like some kind of hero.”

You pushed his hand off your knee. He started staring into the air. A million thoughts running through his head.

“I don’t understand how you can’t see that your behaviour is insane?”

You stated. He was still being quiet.

“You need to stop.”

You said a little calmer, trying to comfort him.

“I did.”

He said and looked at you.

“I did stop, because that’s what I thought you wanted. But now you were the one that came to me.”

He caught you off guard. It was your turn to be quiet this time.

“I’ll always do what’s best for you, because I love you, y/n. I don’t care how insane I sound or look to you. But why are you here if you think that of me?”

You looked away from him, knowing you had no rebuttal.

“You called me an awful person, you told me you hated me. And I can take it. But I can’t take another rejection from you! I just can’t!”

He raised his voice now. He was getting emotional.

“I’m sorry.”

You said so lightly it was almost a whisper. He stopped ranting and the room got quiet.

“That’s why I came here. To tell you that I’m sorry.”

You looked back to him again. His eyes were big and filled with so much love. You had never seen him like that before.

“I’m sorry I said I hated you, and that you’re crazy and an awful person. None of it true.”

He nodded slowly, not breaking eye contact with you. You became quiet again.

“Is that it?”

He asked carefully. You nodded, shifting awkwardly in the sofa.

“Yeah, I should probably leave.”

You said, taking his hint. Preparing to walk out and never seeing him again.

“No.”

He said, and shifted towards the end of the seat.

“No, not like that.”

He said in a hurry, and took ahold of you hands. You looked confused at him.

“I didn’t mean for you to leave. Don’t leave.”

He sounded almost desperate, clinging onto your hands. You nodded and gave him a short smile.

“What I meant to say is, is that the only reason you came here?”

You thought for a second. Was saying sorry the only reason you came? That’s at least what you told yourself. But at the same time you felt like you owed him more. You didn’t know what you felt. You had been an emotional wreck for months now.

“Yes.”

You answered. Trying to keep cool and not overthink the entire situation. You didn’t want to see him, you had to. Because you’re a good person. That’s all. That’s it. But it didn’t feel like it. It definitely didn’t feel like it. It felt like you longed to see him.

“You’re lying.”

You were ripped out of your thoughts by his statement. You shook your head defensively.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

You opened your mouth to argue back, but he spoke first.

“If it was a clear ‘yes’ you wouldn’t have to think about it. I know you better than you think, y/n.”

He repositioned himself so he could look right at you.

“Come on, ask me anything about yourself and I’ll tell you.”

You looked briefly at your wristwatch.

“I don’t know, maybe I should leave.”

“Just give me a chance, y/n.”

He said.

“If I don’t get it right I’ll let you leave.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, but still turning more towards him, accepting his offer.

“What’s my mothers name?”

You asked. He gave you a knowing look.

“Come on, that’s easy. Give me something that isn’t on Google.”

You let out a small laugh.

“You didn’t say her name though.”

“Christina, now give me something good. Something deep.”

You smiled, but had to think for a second.

“When did I loose my virginity?”

His smile turned to a smirk.

“You were 16 at Mae’s birthday party. You were drinking, and her boyfriend August hit on you. He took you to her bed and fucked you right there. No wonder Mae isn’t your friend anymore. You’re a bitch.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at him. Deep down it was scary that he knew something so intimate in great detail, but for some reason you were having fun with his little game.

“Ok ok. But now it’s your turn, when did you loose your virginity?”

He let out a nervous laugh at your question.

“This quiz isn’t about me.”

He stated and pulled his hand through his hair. You tilted your head slightly downwards and looked at him through your lashes and with a pout.

“I think it’s only fair that I know your story, since you know mine so well.”

He smiled at you, but looked away for a few seconds. Contemplating if he should tell you or not. When you saw him shy away, you suddenly felt as if you were digging into something he wasn’t comfortable sharing.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

You said, and placed your hand on top of his. Your fun voice was toned down to your regular speech again.

“No, I’ll share it. No worries.”

He said and looked back to you. You nodded and turned completely towards him. Crossing your legs and resting your arm on the backrest of the sofa, ready to hear his story.

“My first time was around one and a half year ago, in your office, with the girl of my dreams.”

He said dead serious. You snickered at him, thinking he was joking. But he didn’t laugh.

“You can’t be serious.”

You stated, he nodded proudly.

“Why wouldn’t I be, like I said you’re my dream girl. Why would I waste my time on others when the only one I want is you?”

He asked rhetorically. You crossed your eyebrows in confusion.

“You’ve never had sex? Ever?”

You asked in shock. His image did not fit the virgin title whatsoever.

“Once. With you.”

You smiled, but shook your head in disbelief.

“You can’t be serious. You probably have girls throw themselves at you.”

His hand found your knee again. This time it was placed a little further up.

“The only one I want is you. I waited for you because I knew you would be worth it. Because I love you.”

He said in a low tone, slightly stroking the inside of your thigh. The two of you were close, so close that you were aware of the proximity. The tension in the air got thicker and thicker from the power of his last words. His face started moving slowly towards you, and you gave in. Meeting his lips. The kiss started slow, but he was quick to rush it. Grabbing your neck to deepen the kiss. You were suddenly overwhelmed by the reality of what you were doing, and pulled away.

“We can’t do this.”

You simply said. Focusing on your hands on your lap. His hand went to push a strand of your hair out of your face.

“Why?”

He didn’t sound angry or impatient. He sounded like he cared. It was so much different from the first time the two of you shared a moment like that. He had really changed, and that was the problem.

“I’m not your patient anymore, y/n. I don’t want anything from you.”

You looked up at him again, and he caressed your face in a loving matter.

“Except for you of course.”

His face got closer again, but this time you didn’t kiss him. You abruptly got up from the sofa, and opted for looking down at him instead. You took a deep breath.

“You’re not doing anything wrong by having sex with me. Again, I’m not your patient.”

He said a little bit louder, trying to calm you down.

“I can’t have sex with you because I’ll fall in love with you.”

You couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth. You had been in denial this entire time, but you knew yourself. This would not end well. You couldn’t bare to fall in love with someone that would ruin your image and reputation. You just couldn’t. He looked at you like you were some kind of god. Like all his wishes were finally answered.

“Why is that a bad thing?”

He asked, you shook your head.

“I can’t let that happen, Jungkook. It’s going to ruin my career.”

You sat back down, leaning your elbows on your thighs and your head in your hands.

“I have done nothing but help your career. Why can’t you just trust me?”

He put his hand on your back, stroking you lightly. You looked at him again.

“Please, trust me y/n.”

Fuck it, you thought, before you caught him off guard with your forceful kiss. He was quick to get the memo, kissing you back with the same hastiness and lust. You found your way onto his lap without breaking the kiss. Once you were straddling him, you felt his already hard cock grinding against you. He was desperate for you. A muffled groan escaped his lips when your hand went down to remove his belt.

“Wait.”

He said as he pulled away from you. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were wet and plump.

“Let me taste you.”

It sounded more like a question than a statement. His whole aura was so different from the needy rough man you remembered from the last time.

“Please.”

You got off his lap, taking your top off slowly. Watching him as his face turned in awe of the sight of your tits. His eyes were only on you as you shimmied out of your skirt, letting it pool on the floor. You laid down on the sofa, spreading your legs for him. He quickly removed his shirt, before getting on his stomach. His hand ran slowly down your abdomen, before he reached your slit. He split your lips with the same hand, before he dove right into you. You could tell he was inexperienced, but the rapid use of tongue on your clit sent waves of pleasure throughout your body. You let out extra pound moans whenever he would hit a good spot, and luckily he was a quick learner.

Once he had the hang of it, his hand moved down to your vagina, pushing two fingers in. Your back arched at the speed of the overstimulation. Feeling your orgasm approach quicker than usual. You grabbed his hair, pushing him deeper into you, preparing for your release.

“Don’t stop, Jungkook! I’m close.”

He moaned by your words, the vibrations making you tip over the edge. Your legs closed in on him, locking him in place. As you rode out your high. Once you had calmed down, you let go of his hair. And his face popped up from between your legs. He climbed on top of you, kissing you passionately. You tasted yourself on his lips.

“God, you’re so fucking hot.”

He said in between kisses and moans.

“I almost came just from eating you out.”

He started fiddling with his belt, but you stopped him. Placing a hand on his chest carefully.

“Let me.”

You simply said, before he moved off you. He sat down again, and you crawled onto the floor. Seating yourself between his legs. You looked up at him as your hands slowly traveled up his thighs. He was even more flushed now, his hair sticking to his forehead. You could tell he was impatient. Flicking his eyes between your hands and your eyes.

“Please, y/n.”

He uttered with a heavy breath. You smirked up at him, finally reaching his belt. You took your time with it as well. Once it was open, he was quick to pull down his pants and underwear. Letting his cock spring free. You got on top of him again, slowly lowering yourself onto his cock. He jerked up the second he felt your pussy on him. His thick cock stretched your walls out, and a moan escaped both your lips.

“Just relax, I’ll take care of you this time.”

You said in a low voice, placing your hands on his shoulders. His hands went straight to your ass, giving your cheeks a tight squeeze. You kissed him gently before you started riding him. His head fell back in pleasure once you started your movements. Bouncing up and down his cock. His hands dug deeper into your skin. He filled you to the brim, and every bounce felt amazing.

“Fuck! I’m not- gonna last long.”

He moaned and looked back at you. You then leaned your hands backwards onto his thighs. Your head fell slightly back as you moaned at the new angle.

“Y/n, slow down!”

He moaned as his hands moved to your thighs. Trying halfheartedly to stop you. But you didn’t stop. And suddenly you felt him coming inside you. His hips lifted you up, as he released himself. And when you felt like he was finished you stopped. You rapped your hands around his shoulders as you fell onto his chest. The room got quiet, the only sound being your heavy breathing.

You weren’t able to think about the consequences of your actions at that point. You only felt satisfaction and lust. And maybe even love…

Thank you for reading! Do you want to read more?

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lcriedlastnight · 4 months ago

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hi, can i please request a little fic where the reader moves from australia (totally fine if you don’t wanna do aus, feel free to pick another country!) to the uk for karting. she meets lando at school and their friendship kicks off when he hears her accent and realises how gorgeous she is, and since then they have grown up together. even when she decided to give up racing while he continued to go into f1 she was there from the beginning. just something cute showing the timeline of their little relationship

hi! this is such a great idea anon, lovely. ur a genius and ily. big hugs. also i cannot believe the race today, lando should’ve won my man needs a little luck pls.

tw: fem!reader, swears, me not knowing karting lore, me also not knowing anything about australia, swears, lmk if you want me to add anything. p.s i am working throught all of my asks rn, there was quite a few so i am trying my best to get through them all before i open them again!

w/c: 1.7k

you first met lando at a karting competition when you were fourteen. you had just moved to the uk and you didn't have many friends, seeing as you were very introverted when it came to settings like this. even though karting was your entire world sometimes the nerves around other people would just grow to be too much.

lando was a little older than you, just shy of a year, meaning that you were in the same year at school. you noticed him in one of your classes and recognised him from your most recent race, the weekend before. his tanned skin and infectious smile was hard to miss. of course meeting lando had to come at a time where everyone around you was starting to figure out who and what they were attracted to and as much as it embarrassed you to say it, lando was who you were attracted to.

it started off as a little crush, it was harmless and he didn't even know who you were. you made it that way, not trying to make any friends in school - or karting for that matter. you were not sure when it turned into infatuation but if there was one thing you were good at it was hiding your feelings. so when lando himself came over to you to congratulate you on getting p2, you hide your nerves like a pro and only made it seem like you were shy.

that was the first time lando had seen you and honestly he could not believe it. he thought he recognised you when you had stepped onto the podium just after the race had finished, when it clicked that he knew you from school he felt a little guilty that he had never given you the time of day before. how could he have walked around the halls of the school, possibly even brushing shoulders with you, and not even know about it. the mere thought felt like a crime. in that moment lando knew he had to get to know you better.

"you were super fast on track today." lando's accent rings through your ears as you turn around after another race. you didn't get a podium finish this time. neither did he but you are gobsmacked that he is standing in front of you, complimenting you.

"thanks. you too. you were zoomin' around it." you say, australian accent heavy around your words. this is not the first time you have spoken to lando but it seems it is the first time he has actually listened because up until just now he had no clue that you were australian.

"you're from australia?" he asks, trying to play it cool as his eyes dart around your face, taking you in like he has never looked at another person before. you nod, going a little shy at his blatant staring.

"are all the australian girls this pretty, or is it just you?" lando smiles at you, you can't decide if it is a cheeky smile or if he genuinely means it. just like you can't tell if he is flirting with you or if he seriously wants to know how pretty the girls are back home. his words leave you speechless, not knowing how to answer his question. it is like lando challenges your silence with his own. you are both quiet for a while. lando just knows from there that he needs you with him, he feels the need to warm you up to him and erase your awkward nature around him.

lando sticks by your side until you have no choice but to warm up to him. you end up becoming best friends with the boy, pushing that lingering crush to the back of your mind any time the two of you are together, although you feel it grow the more he grows into his looks and the more he grows into his personality as a whole. you find that he just understands you like no one else has ever done before. sometimes you don't even have to tell him whats wrong, he just knows and he knows the exact way to comfort or distract you through it. the curly haired boy is by your side through every single decision you make and vice versa.

lando was the first person you told when you decided that you were going to quit racing. you were only eighteen, him nineteen, when you realised that as much as you loved racing, you were not so sure that it loved you back. lando being a prime example of this. he was already in f1 starting next season, his rookie season with mclaren, their first seat filled with big racing star carlos sainz. lando was making it big and as you had told him many times as he made his way through all the championships, you knew he was going to go far and do everyone he loved proud. you, on the other hand, well you had barely even made a podium in the past year and half, nevermind actually winning races. you knew you just didn't have what it took to make it to formula one, like lando did.

"i think i'm going to quit racing." you had confessed to your best friend while he was driving you both to the mclaren technology centre. he had promised you a tour of the place and you had been begging him until he eventually gave in. lando almost crashed the car in shock.

"you what, sorry?" lando asks, foot back on the accelerator again as the car jolts back into action. the boys head keeps snapping to you when he can, turning to make sure you were not in fact, kidding. "you're serious?" he asks again as you fail to answer his first question.

"i am. i'm deadly serious." you affirm. lando's mouth opens in shock. there was just no way. you were his racing girl.

"i'm super thankful for racing and where it got me and who it gave me," you thank god lando's eyes were on the road because it gives you time to shake off your look of longing as you trail off a little. you pick yourself back up when he coughs a little to bring you back to earth. "but i'm so tired of waking up on a race day and dreading it. i always told myself when i was younger that no matter what, no matter what anyone told me, if i was unhappy doing something, even if it was something i used to love, i'd give it up. i'm not going to beat a dead horse."

your best friend listens intently as he drives you both closer to the centre. once you have stopped talking it is a little quiet. you long to break it but you know you need to let lando process this. neither of you can even remember a time in racing without each other. it sounded like lando's own personal version of hell.

"well i'm proud of you for putting your happiness first." lando starts as the car pulls up in the parking space, dedicated to him. the thing was, you were not even jealous of lando already being in f1. that is when you knew that your love for taking part in the sport had died. you would never stop watching it though. lando made you promise you would try and watch every race you possibly could when he finally started his first offical season in f1.

you had kept your promise and followed him through to what would now be his fifth season. you were his biggest chearleader, constantly posting on your instagram and twitter about how unfair the stewards were bring to lando, and taking to your socials to celebrate the big wins. and when in his fourth season he was promoted to first seat and the second seat was given to a fellow australian you began to wonder the same thing as many of his fans. 'is lando collecting pretty australians like infinity stones or what?!'

the post race interview after lando gets his first win at miami is one you will never forget, especially because he confessed his feelings for you on live tv. you were absolutely gutted about not being able to make it to the race, even though you were never planning on going in the first place, it hurt more that you could not be there to celebrate his first formula one win, especially when it feels like you have been by his side forever. you shoot him a text saying he deserved it and to facetime you if he has time before he goes out and you know he will text you back when he sees it.

as you are back in australia for three weeks, you are sitting with your family as you watch and wait for the podium ceremony. all you wanted was to see your boy finally lift his trophy. every part of you knew that he was just glowing. you hadn't even seen his face from under his helmet yet.

as he conducts one last post-race interview before he has to get back for the trophy ceremony, you and the whole world stop spinning.

"yeah, i need to thank my girl. if you see this, baby. i love you, m'racer girl and i miss you. this is for you, it's all for you. i know you're watching. i'll call you before you sleep." lando speaks into the cameras like he is replying to your text message. you doubt at first that he was actually talking to you until he called you his racer. you cannot believe he just said he love you in front of millions of people. you missed him a lot.

lando ends up calling you and admits yet again that he loves you and this time you say it back. you tell him about the crush you have had since you were fourteen, and he tells you about how much he misses you and wishes you were just there with him. the kiss lando gives you at the airport when you are both reunited is caught by many paps but you stopped caring the second your legs left the ground, wrapping around his waist as his tongue met yours.

you constantly appear on the quadrant channel, showing up all his friends in karting races and every single time lando tried to convice you to get back out.

"i'll leave it to the formula one grand prix winner i think." you smile at him, those words always got to him. he can't believe he got the car and the career he had always wanted. it was finally a win-win for lando, for once in his life.

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woso-dreamzzz · 11 months ago

Text

Bully

Hardersson x Teen!Reader

*Homophobic slurs*

Summary: Violence isn't always the answer

To be honest, you could barely remember the incident.

All you could hear were the taunts in your ears, the pulling on your school blazer and then suddenly they were on the ground and your knuckles were split.

They glared at you from across the hallway, both of you sitting on the floor outside of the headmistress' office.

An icepack was pressed to your jaw and a matching one was on his eyebrow.

He had gotten up quickly after you hit him, slamming his own fist against you until you were both snarling and grappling with each other in the corridor.

You glared back at him, lips curled back in a sneer quickly wiped off your face when you saw exactly who you were trying to avoid stalking down the hallway.

Selfishly, you thought that neither of your mothers would get the call, that being at practice meant they wouldn't be as attached to their phones. But, no such luck and you pulled your hood up over your head to hide away.

You couldn't meet their eyes as they came to a stop just in front of you. The boy's parents were there too.

"Of course," He said scornfully," A dyk-"

You surged up from the ground, intent on swinging at him again but Morsa caught your raised arm in her hand and gave you a stern look. You melted under the weight of it and tore your arm away.

"Ah," The headmistress said, opening her office door," You're all here. Why don't we step inside and get this sorted out?"

You slumped in your seat, squished between your Momma and Morsa. They were still in their training kits, probably having skipped out during lunch when they got the call.

"I don't see what there is to sort out," The boy said arrogantly and you instantly felt bad for his parents, who looked extremely embarrassed at being here in the first place," She hit me. I protected myself."

"Don't act like it wasn't provoked!" You snapped.

Momma grabbed at your wrist and sent you a look of warning.

"It was just a joke!" The boy defended," It's not my fault that there's no banter in whatever Russian city you're from!"

"I'm not Russian!"

He scoffed. "Like it matters."

You glared again and Momma tightened her grip on you.

The headmistress sighed deeply, rubbing at her temples. "Jason," She said," This is the third time this week that you've been in my office over a 'joke'. What was it this time?"

He remained silent.

She turned to you.

"I'm not excusing your violence but it would be best if you came clean about what happened, if he provoked you like you said."

"You calling me a liar?"

"y/n," Morsa said sternly and you recognised the tone as 'come-clean-or-you'll-be-in-even-more-trouble'.

"He's been calling me a dyke ever since I transferred," You said in a huff, staring at the stupid motivational poster behind the headmistress' head," And he makes fun of my mums all the time. He..."

Momma's fingers stroked over your bruised knuckles. "Go on."

"He asked me if it was safe to have a dyke like me in the changing rooms with the other girls." Tears stung in your eyes but you refused to let them fall. "So I hit him."

"Liar!" He slammed his fist onto the headteacher's desk.

"Jason!" His mother shrieked. It looked, at least, that she didn't agree with his words. "What have I told you about using that foul language?!"

While they argued, your Morsa turned to look at you. You couldn't read her expression. She just stared down at you, slumped in your seat and unwilling to make proper eye contact.

"You hit him?"

"You know I hit him."

"Hard?"

"Yeah..."

She nodded. "Good."

"Magda!" Momma snapped," Don't encourage her!"

"Right, yeah." Morsa was silent for a moment. "Er...Don't do it again. Violence isn't the answer..." She glared at him from the corner of her eye. "Even if it's against homophobic little brats."

"Magda," Momma hissed again," I mean it."

With both families squabbling, your headteacher sighed deeply before getting everyone's attention again.

"Listen," She said," Honestly, something like this rarely happens here. Miss Harder, Miss Eriksson, truly, I'm sorry that these kinds of words have been thrown at your daughter so frequently but you must know that I can't have violence like this in my halls."

"Of course," Momma said," We understand."

"But, y/n clearly has been harassed so I think an exclusion for the rest of the week will suffice. Jason, as for you, I'm not too sure that there's a future for you in my school."

"What?! Come on!"

"Miss Harder, Miss Eriksson, I believe that our business is done for the day. y/n can return on Monday morning."

"Thank you," Momma said, standing up and pulling you along with her," This won't happen again."

The car ride home was a bit tense and every time you looked up, you made an uncomfortable amount of eye contact with Momma in the rearview mirror.

"Go to your room," She said as soon as you pulled up to the house.

"Momma-"

"Your room. Now."

You hurried off, ignoring the sympathetic look Morsa gave you as you shoved past her. There wasn't much to do in your room, especially when Momma had confiscated your phone as soon as you got into the car.

You could do nothing but stare up at the ceiling and flex your aching hand.

"I'm not sorry," You said as the door opened," He deserved it."

Momma stood in your doorway, arms crossed over her chest. "What you did..." She took a deep breath. "Was irresponsible and stupid. Why didn't you just tell a teacher?"

"I did!" You snapped," The first time it happened! They didn't do anything!"

"y/n-"

"No! I know that I shouldn't have hit him but I don't regret it! He had it coming!"

She crossed the room and perched on the edge of your bed. "I don't doubt that. But it was still a silly thing to do. You said that this has been going on for a while. Why didn't you tell one of us?"

You rolled your eyes. "Does it really matter? It...We'd just moved. It didn't seem as worrying as you're trying to make it out to be. It's done. It's over. Can we just skip to the part where you yell at me?"

There was silence for matter before Momma spoke again," I'm not going to yell at you. I...I just wish you'd handled it in a different way."

"But?"

"But I'm glad that you showed everyone not to mess with you." She said the words almost like she was embarrassed to admit them. "I don't think anyone will be bothering you for a long time."

You sat up and grinned.

"Don't get cocky," Momma warned you," You're not grounded or anything but every day you're off school, you'll have chores to do."

"I can do my chores," You said brightly.

She rolled her eyes and took your hand, pulling you up and off your bed. "Come on. Morsa's got some ice for your jaw and fist. Next time, aim for the nose."

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso

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sl-ut · 1 year ago

Text

ceilings

PART TWO

GUYS I DONT THINK YOU UNDERSTAND HOW AMAZING THE RESPONSE TO THE FIRST PART OF THIS WAS!!!! IM ACTUALLY SO SORRY FOR MAKING YOU ALL WAIT LIKE FIVE MONTHS FOR PT 2 BUT HERE IT IS!!! I REWROTE IT LIKE SEVEN TIMES SO I HOPE YOU ENJOY IT (its not exactly how i wanted it to be but its here so pls stop harassing me ab it lol) (jk i love being harassed by you guys) (love u all)

pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

description: ellie is put on the spot, but it seems that her choice has already been made.

warnings: MENTIONS AND (non-explicit) DEPICTIONS OF DOMESTIC AND CHILD ABUSE, swearing, allusions to nsfw situations, misogyny, alcohol consumption, mentions of guns, ellie is stupid af

words: 8.7K

date posted: 18/11/23

part one

From a very young age, Y/n had developed a deep understanding in regards to her place in the world. Girls like her did not ride out into the face of danger, nor did they scour the ruins of what was once a flourishing society for even the slightest chance of survival. Girls like her did not fight or talk back, instead they were quiet and followed orders so that someone might feel inclined to protect them. She had learned these lessons from no one other than her father.

He had never been a kind man; the type that would send even the bravest of souls running the other way with his piercing stare and bulging muscles. He had started off with a considerably large group, only to find himself off on his own all thanks to his frighteningly short temper and his alcoholic tendencies. For a few years, he wandered through the woods on his own, tearing his way through small survivalist groups as if he, himself, had been infected, until he came across a young woman hiding out in an abandoned motel. Unlike usual, he hadn’t immediately reached for his blade at the sight of her, and instead found himself feeling in need of some human contact after so much time on his own, and offered her his protection for the nonrefundable price of her body. Scared, alone, and hungry, Y/n’s mother was quick to fall into routine with the man, finding comfort under his protection and returning it whenever he saw fit.

Y/n often tried to imagine the man who had been so frightening to anyone who crossed his path; Almost as wide as he was tall, rippling muscles beneath weathered and scarred skin, a seemingly permanent sneer carved into his face. It was difficult to picture him as such, especially when he had been so unwell since they had arrived in Jackson. He’d been bitter since that very day, never wanting to feel like he might be indebted to somebody else, though Y/n’s mother had convinced him that neither of them would be able to survive the winter this year, especially considering that Y/n had contracted a terrible cough and was showing signs of oncoming pneumonia. To this day, he made it very clear that he only chose to stay because he knew that there was no chance of convincing Y/n’s mother to leave her behind. The years hadn’t been kind to him–the sudden transition from living on the run to such a comfortable life caused a dramatic physical transformation, and allowed his age to finally catch up to him.

Her father was among the most humiliating parts of her life in Jackson, everyone recognising him immediately to be a raging old fool who was all-too reliant on the bottle to take away the pain of his aching bones. He’d also settled more comfortably into his role of a deadbeat husband and father, finding Y/n and her mother to be even more irritating now than when they relied on him for everything; they’d both been left to cover up bruises with clothing and excuses of clumsiness rather than admit where they’d really come from.

Her relationship with her mother was almost more difficult to explain.

From the time that Y/n was old enough to remember, her mother had been telling her that their lives were owed to her father in every sense of the matter. Y/n’s mother didn’t hate her, that much was clear, but it was also very plain to see that she considered her daughter to be quite a disruption of her life. Things had been much easier before she had been born–all that she needed to do to survive was to make herself available for his use and boost his ego, now she needed to not only fend for herself, but fend for her child as well. Y/n’s father had no emotional or moral obligations to her, and had even tried to leave her behind after they’d figured out that she’d been knocked up. After Y/n was born, he still considered dumping the two of them–what kind of use would a woman be if there was the chance of her getting pregnant again? It was only because of some kind of divine blessing that he found it within himself to keep them around. After coming to Jackson, her loyalty to him never strayed, and the slight resentment that she already harboured for her child grew.

Y/n fit into the everyday routine of Jackson residents almost too easily. She quickly came to enjoy the new aspects of her life in the commune such as school, taking part in daily chores, community events, and most of all, interacting with her peers. They were all so kind to her, praising her when she did well at something, and comforting her when she didn’t. People told her she was pretty and smart and funny, all of the things that her parents did not. She did not need to resort to loaning out her body for a meal, nor did she need to cower in the face of safety. At school, boys flocked to her every whim, because they genuinely wanted her, not because she was playing into their sick mind games in hopes of survival. Things such as praise, safety, and happiness were handed to Y/n so easily, while her mother had to fight tooth and nail for them. The complex relationship between Y/n and her family could not easily be explained, but those native to the commune had quickly come to their own conclusions about the trio.

Things did not remain as easy for Y/n as she had once seen them as. Those unfiltered adoring comments of pretty and smart, quickly led down a dark path and became dumb and slut and fat. There was a pattern in her life, all of those who started with the kind words would always end up saying the others at some point, though it wasn’t until Dina began saying them that it truly bothered her.

Everything that Y/n was to the people in Jackson, Dina was too, only better. She was the kind of girl who couldn’t be stopped when she put her mind to something, and was loyal to the very end, which is what made it so difficult when she turned her back on Y/n.

There were very few limits that Y/n had when it came to the brunette girl. She was the type of person whose laughter could warm the soul, and whose praise was comparable to a badge of honour. Y/n would take up new hobbies or interests, even some things that she never really even liked in order to have more things in common with her, and at one point, would have considered her to be her closest friend; Each time a new boy broke her heart, Dina was there to comfort her; Each time her father grabbed her a little too tightly, Dina would force her to spend the night and help her ice her bruises. There was quite literally nothing in the world that Y/n wouldn’t do for her, something she had never felt for anyone, ever, until Jesse came into the picture.

He was the first guy their age who hadn’t shown an immediate interest in Y/n, which was quite refreshing, so she made no opposition when Dina suggested that they invite him to hang out. The first pinch of regret came a few weeks later when her friend finally confessed her feelings for Jesse. With every guy that had ever been around her, she’d never felt an ounce of jealousy when it came to other girls.

Until then.

***

Ellie has never felt longing like this before. Of course, she had experienced the embarrassingly naïveness that came along with having a crush on someone before, both with Cat and briefly with Dina, but she had never genuinely felt what it was like to want someone in the soul-crushing way that came with the early stages of love, let alone with someone who made it quite clear that they wanted nothing to do with Ellie. Her bed felt much colder than it ever had before, and nights seemed to drag on rather than how she used to pray for just a few extra minutes. She couldn’t help but wonder how she had managed to fuck up everything up so badly that withing a few days, she had gone from wanting to keep her relationship a secret to wondering if she even was in a relationship anymore.

Well, to be completely fair, Ellie had made it quite clear to Y/n time and time again that they were most certainly not girlfriends. They were just two girls who had romantic interest in one another who spent most of their time together doing things that girlfriends might do with one another. But they definitely weren’t dating, so it really shouldn’t have bothered her when she began to notice the attention that Y/n had been receiving from the new girl.

It was rare for Ellie to see either of them apart from one another. In fact, Y/n seemed to have made a genuine and successful effort in avoiding Ellie as much as possible in the days that had passed since they had last spoken at the Tipsy Bison. She would spot her from afar sometimes, walking in stride with her seemingly new best friend, and would watch her from a distance until her figure disappeared out of sight. On the odd occasion where Y/n’s shift in the stables lined up with Ellie’s patrol, Shimmer’s reins would be silently handed over to her, accompanied only with a blank stare and deaf ears when Ellie attempted any sort of small talk. When this happened, Ellie’s pale cheeks flushed red and her shoulders slumped in embarrassment as she tried to ignore Jesse’s awkward chuckling.

The only thing that made it worse was the undeniable fact that Erin had publicly staked some sort of claim over Y/n. In public, she was unashamed to be near her, to touch her, and to speak to her. She didn’t feel the need to pull her into dark corners just to utter a few words, and she didn’t seem put off by any sort of reputation or rumours being spread about herself just from being seen with her. Ellie felt almost territorial when it came to Y/n, in a way she truly never had before. Any time that she noticed one or both or Erin’s hands to slip across Y/n’s waist or lower back, the auburn haired girl had to rely on her last shred of sanity not to rush over and beat her to a pulp or tear her hand right off. For the unforeseeable future, Ellie decided that her best course of action would be to become as much of a hermit as possible, even thinking as far as asking Jesse to bring her dinner every night to avoid the dining hall, though she knew better; Her friends would be utterly useless in helping her in this situation, as Dina didn’t even know what was going on and Jesse, well…

The boy had been fairly understanding of Ellie’s feelings on the situation. He knew firsthand how his own girlfriend felt about Y/n, even more in detail than Ellie did. He admitted to her that he genuinely liked Y/n, but chose to avoid her purely out of respect for Dina, though made sure to tell her what an idiot Ellie had been if she actually had feelings for her. He had successfully perfected the art of tough love, and made sure that Ellie felt every bit of it.

She truly hadn’t been looking forward to her patrol shift with Jesse, knowing that it would be nothing more than yet another therapy session; what Dina was mad at him for this week, the crazy dream he had last night, the weird bump on his ass… Only this time, there was a much larger issue at hand that turned the need for therapy to Ellie rather than him, and she knew that there was practically nothing that could have prevented Doctor Jesse, LMHC from joining her that morning.

“You know, I really don’t think it’s as big of a deal as you think it is.”

Ellie shook her head, “Says you. You see Y/n walking your way and you run the other direction.”

“Well, you know how Dina is.”

She sent him a pointed glare.

“For me, that is.” He continued, “I’m her boyfriend.”

“And I’m her best friend.”

Jesse tilted his head with raised brows, “Meaning that you are irreplaceable. Me, on the other hand, could be replaced by anyone given the chance that Dina’s standards suddenly go up. Will she be pissed? Definitely, but there’s no way that she would ever wanna stop being friends with you over this.”

Ellie wasn’t sure whether this was the most intelligent or idiotic thing that Jesse had ever said. She certainly hoped that her relationship with Dina was strong enough that anyone that she would be looking to pursue romantically would not be too much of an issue, though the dark-haired girl tended to be quite unpredictable and Ellie couldn’t rely on hope. Dina was the first friend that she had made in Jackson, the first person who didn’t treat her like a wild animal who’d been spooked, the first person who actually accepted her into the community. How could she risk losing her?

“And not to light a fire under your ass or anything,” he sent her a pointed look, “But word on the street is that she and Erin are getting pretty close, if you know what I mean.”

Ellie narrowed her eyes at him, “Oh, fuck you. ‘Word on the street,’ my ass. As far as everyone else knows, she doesn’t even like girls. By next week, the rumours will start and then everything will be back to normal. I guess it’s my own fault for thinking that–” She coughed and cut herself off.

“For thinking that she actually liked you?” Jesse finished for her, smirking at the dangerous glare that wordlessly confirmed his thoughts. “Have you ever considered that maybe she feels the same way?” There was a beat of silence before he continued, “Think about it, every guy in Jackson told her the same things you probably did, and the second they got what they wanted…”

“No, I’m not like those fuckers. I never told anyone anything about what happened between us. Those guys, she told me that half of the stuff they say about her isn’t even true.”

“So is spreading rumours really that much more hurtful than being too embarrassed that you were even together?”

Was it? This whole time, she had been consoling herself with the idea that she would be better than the others–all of those guys who called her a slut behind her back, all of those guys who used her for her body, the guys who stole away pieces of her until she genuinely had very little respect for herself to prevent anyone from hurting her like that again, Ellie included. Especially when, during the last few days, Ellie had been no better, wondering how much Y/n could’ve liked her at all if she was moving on so fast, wondering if all of those rumours might have had some kind of truth to them at all. There she was, throwing herself a pity party over her unrequited feelings, when she had been the one who had been emotionally unavailable, not Y/n.

“Am I good, or what?” Jesse laughed, “Seriously, do you think Maria would be open to starting a therapy business in Jackson?”

“Or what,” Ellie responded a moment later, “But she might, God knows I’ll need a session after this.”

***

Y/n had always had it in the back of her mind that everything happened for a reason. Every bruise was a fight that she survived, every sickness was a reminder that she was still alive, and every heartbreak was a love that simply wasn’t meant to be–a sign that the one was still out there. A large part of her wanted it to be Ellie, even more so than how she wanted it to be every guy that came before her. Y/n thought that Ellie was different than the others, she didn’t just smile charmingly as whisper pretty words before going off on her merry way, instead preferring to stay in bed for a while after they would sleep together, actually listening to what she had to say and responding in a way that let her know that she was genuinely interested.

But alas, Ellie had been no better than the rest. Of course, Y/n had been used to this kind of thing, so there was a bit of a routine that she’d gotten used to. It was worse this time, though, even worse than the very first–but the routine was strict, and didn’t allow her to shed any more tears than she could help, and so the cycle began again.

Y/n wasn’t stupid, despite what the others said, and she could very easily see what Erin wanted from her, though she was determined to make this time different. If she was fated to undergo the same heartache time and time again, she would hold it off as long as she possibly could. Any attempt made by the blonde to take their relationship further than a friendship would be ignored until Y/n decides that she was ready for it, though the ease that she found when it came to swerving her advances began to bring up another question in her mind; Was she really that interested in Erin? Or was she really that desperate for attention that she was willing to jump to the next person who even glanced in her direction?

The question gnawed on her for days. Everytime Erin touched her, it felt as if someone had brought flame to her flesh, and not even in the same way that it had been with Ellie, nor any of the others that came before. Perhaps she was simply just more aware of the issue at hand than she had been before–that much was undeniable at this point. She made a real effort to put a bit of distance between Erin and herself, deciding that, if something were to happen between them, it wouldn’t be quite so easy as it had been in the past. She could tell that this bothered Erin to some degree; Her pink lips always turned into a scowl when she wouldn’t receive any more than a peck, and her wandering hands often caused the girl to stiffen, but she had yet to say anything about it, instead putting on a sickeningly sweet smile and changing the subject to something much more lighthearted.

It would seem that Erin was less discreet about their relationship with other Jackson residents than she was around Y/n. Apparently, it was a hot bit of gossip around Jackson, considering that the girl who had a pretty scandalous reputation when it comes to men seemingly had switched teams. Her sexuality wasn’t exactly a new discovery for herself, but she’d never actually been with another girl until Ellie, and no one even knew about that. Generally, Y/n wasn’t concerned about what other people her age thought of her, as there was very little that they hadn’t already said about her, but the way that she was viewed by the older generations of Jackson residents was something that she was very conscious of.

She’d had quite a close relationship with Maria for quite some time now, and in turn, Tommy as well. The married couple were the unofficial leaders of Jackson, and often took it upon themselves to check in on those around town that may need a bit of extra help or care. They both viewed her as someone who has overcome quite a lot in the short time that she’d been on Earth, and yet, she was miraculously able to fit into the status quo quite easily.

A few years after he arrived in Jackson, Tommy’s brother, Joel, took up another caring role within her life, just as he had done with several other Jackson residents who were around her age or younger. Y/n quite liked Joel, and not only because of his close relation to Ellie. In fact, Y/n had somewhat of a friendship started with Joel long before she had even spoken to Ellie for the first time, finding some comfort in his unshakeable fatherly instincts; Offering her a small cup of precious coffee or another sweater when he noticed a tremble in the cold, or a gentle reminder that she could tell him about anybody giving her a hard time. He once told her that she reminded him of a stray cat, constantly showing up on his doorstep time and time again after he’d given her a scrap of food once, and now he was forced to practically adopt her as a consequence of his actions. There was hardly anything that she wouldn’t tell him, which was why she was quite excited when Tommy suggested that she start out her paired patrolling duties with him at her side.

Joel was mostly quiet on patrols, usually offering small grunts in response her pestering questions or a stifled laugh, doing his best to seem unimpressed with her foolishness, but unable to hide the admiration he seemed to have for the young girl who seemed so unfazed by the things she had been forced to face in this world. He always made sure to ask her about her own wellbeing, usually when they would stop to pick at the sandwiches that Maria had packed for them.

“Anyone givin’ you any trouble?” He would always ask, quickly followed up by, “Aside from what you go lookin’ for, that is.”

At this, she would usually give him a little explanation of her personal life; Who she had spoken to the day before, who she thought was nice and who wasn’t… Joel wasn’t usually one for gossip, but he didn’t mind having to listen to her drone on about what the Jackson youths were up to lately, especially when it may or may not concern Ellie.

“And your daddy?” He always asked her this at some point or another. It was no secret around Jackson that her father wasn’t exactly the nicest guy around, especially towards his daughter, nor was her mother doing much to look out for her. “He treating you and your momma alright?”

Her lips tightened into a grimace, stuffing a large bite of her sandwich into her mouth, “Same as always.”

“He hurtin’ you at all? You know if he is–”

“He isn’t. Not since last time.” She affirmed, peering intently down at the half-mauled sandwich in her lap, “Besides, you’ve got bigger fish to fry; Don’t think I haven’t heard about Miss Gonzalez bringing you that apple pie last week.”

“It was pecan, actually.” Joel groaned, shaking his head and hiding his smirk, “You’re talkin’ to me about my love life?”

Y/n chewed her bottom lip, “Didn’t take you as the type to listen to rumours, Miller.”

“‘M not talkin’ about any rumours.” He gave her a firm look, one that knew far more than she had expected. “A girl as smart as you can’t’ve forgotten whose backyard you’ve been sleeping over in.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He rolled his eyes, “‘M not tryin’ to pry, I only mean…fuck. All ‘m tryin’ to say is that I think you make her happy. I know she and I aren’t exactly in the best place, but that’s all I want for her. Startin’ to think she makes you pretty happy, too.”

“Yeah, well,” Y/n scoffed, trying to reign in any bitterness she felt towards the girl, “Not happy enough.” She forced the remainder of her sandwich into her mouth, her words coming out muffled, “Let’s get moving, it’s gonna be dark soon.”

***

Y/n had always had it in the back of her mind that everything meant something. Every bruise was a fight that she survived, every sickness was a reminder that she was still alive, and every heartbreak was a love that simply wasn’t meant to be–a sign that the one was still out there. A large part of her wanted it to be Ellie, even more so than how she wanted it to be every guy that came before her. Y/n thought that Ellie was different than the others, she didn’t just smile charmingly as whisper pretty words before going off on her merry way, instead preferring to stay in bed for a while after they would sleep together, actually listening to what she had to say and responding in a way that let her know that she was genuinely interested.

The question gnawed at her silently as she waited patiently for Erin to return with her second drink. She hadn’t really been in the mood to drink that night, but it was either that or be left alone with her thoughts, and they had been less than kind towards her lately. But going to the Tipsy Bison also heightened her chances of coming face to face with Ellie again, and she wasn’t entirely sure of how to act if she were to confront her again, just as she had last time.

Her fingers scraped at the sticky residue that had been smeared across the tabletop, shoulders hunched and eyes cast downwards to avoid drawing any additional attention to herself. Her mind felt hazy, likely a combination of the little food she’d consumed that day and the drink that she’d already finished, leaving her blissfully unaware of the attention that she actually was receiving. It was different from the way that people normally looked at her, either in awe or resentment, instead proving a general concern for the girl who would normally be jumping to be in the middle of the dance floor or joining the few musicians in Jackson on stage for a song or two. This girl was very different from the latter, the charming smile that she would normally wear had turned into a small pout, and her normally wide and wondrous eyes were dull and bored.

A hand touched her shoulder, drawing her out of the daze that she hadn’t even realised that she’d been in. Maria appeared at her side, a warm smile on her lips as she scanned the surprised expression of the younger woman, soon followed by her husband.

“Oh,” Y/n shook her head slightly as her posture straightened, “Hey, Maria, Tommy.”

“Y/n,” Tommy nodded at her, “How you doin’ tonight?”

She shrugged in response, “Good.”

Maria squeezed her shoulder, “You sure? Are you feeling alright? You look a little pale.”

Y/n suppressed the minor tug of annoyance at their persistence, “Fine. Just a little tired.”

The couple shared a knowing glance. Y/n was not the first girl in Jackson to hold the kind of reputation that she did, though very few others had their entire lives put out on display for the rest of town to judge. People talk, and between their words and the physical state that she was in, there was nothing that she could do or say to make them believe her.

Tommy cleared his throat, “Heard you did well out on patrol today. Joel’s thinkin’ that a little while longer ‘n you’ll be on your way to doin’ it full time. That sound good?”

Y/n didn’t go on patrol often, but anyone who was physically capable of going was put on the schedule at least once a rotation. Having not been out too many times, she tended to get paired up with others who truly knew what they were doing, though Joel Miller seemed to be her main partner, which was an especially bizarre situation considering that Ellie was practically his daughter, no matter how impossibly strained their relationship may have been. Joel had always been nice to her, never too harsh when she made mistakes, nor was he a major softie who let her away with shit. Things had been a bit tense one morning when they had run into one another before their patrol in his backyard, where she had been sneaking out of Ellie’s garage-turned home in the early hours of the morning. It was a bit of an unspoken understanding of each other–both had fallen into the bittersweet situation of caring just a little too much about Ellie Williams.

It made her chest swell knowing that he’d been praising her to his brother, but if he’d truly been bringing up the little bit of good that she’d done, he’d surely growled about how clumsy she’d been after their converstation, falling off her horse, losing the map to the wind…Hell, she’d almost shot him on accident from sneezing! Of course, even Joel Miller would be talking poorly about her behind her back, just like everyone else.

“That all he said?” She asked, tired eyes turning to the man.

He shrugged, adjusting his belt buckle uncomfortably as he shifted his weight, “That’s the gist of it, anyways. Say, you wouldn’t mind filling in on the late morning shift tomorrow, would ya? Eugene’s got a stomach bug and can’t seem to go more than twenty minutes without…well, you know.”

She tilted her head, glancing between the married couple in confusion. She’d never been asked to take on a patrol shift more than once every three weeks, let alone twice within a few days of each other.

“I know you aren’t normally on the schedule this regularly, and I wouldn’t ask if I weren’t in such a bind.”

“I mean, I don’t really mind, but I’m supposed to work in the stables tomorrow.”

Another figure appeared before anyone else could speak, the loud clink of two glasses hitting the table as Erin’s smiling face filled Y/n’s vision.

“What’d I miss?” She asked, eyes shifting between the couple and the girl she’d walked away from only minutes earlier. She slid a glass across the table to Y/n, who eagerly accepted it and took a large gulp.

“Not much, Tommy was just telling us about how great Y/n was on patrol yesterday.” Maria smiled, patting her shoulder gently.

Erin turned to Y/n with an amused grin, “Oh yeah?”

“So great that she’s even taking over Eugene’s shift tomorrow. I’d say she’s on her way to becoming a big hot shot around here,” Maria grinned, “Everyone will be talking about you soon enough.”

“More than they already do, you mean,” Erin chuckled, completely ignorant to the glance that both Tommy and Maria sent her as she turned to Y/n with furrowed brows, “And here I was all excited to work together in the stables tomorrow morning.”

Y/n glanced down at the amber liquid in her glass before downing it all in one gulp, cheeks beaming with embarrassment, “I mean, it’s an emergency. I really don’t mind, and I don’t think the horses will miss me too much.”

Tommy nodded, thanking Y/n once more before guiding Maria away with a hand on her lower back, departing from the pair with a farewell before disappearing into the crowd. Y/n’s eyes followed them until they couldn’t anymore, then found themselves locked onto an eerily familiar gaze. Ellie leaned against the opposite side of the bar, clad in her favourite black flannel and nursing her own drink as she blatantly ignored Jesse and Dina as they bickered playfully next to her. She seemed a bit surprised when their eyes met, but offered her a small nod as a greeting. Y/n’s brain scanned through all of her options; She could have run over to her, jumped into her arms and announced her love, she could have turned to Erin and chose to make Ellie jealous, but instead, she simply looked away.

“You okay?” Erin’s hand graced the small of her back, her body suddenly closer than she had previously been. “Shit, you feel kinda warm. You’re not sick, are you?”

Y/n shook her head, finally glancing back to the blonde girl at her side, “I’m fine, just tired. Maybe a little tipsy.”

Erin’s laugh sounded like wind chimes as it fell from her lips, “A little? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you down two drinks so quickly.” Her eyes fluttered, hooded eyelids drooping as she lowered her voice, “If you’re not having fun, we can always leave early.”

The game she was playing was a dangerous one. She’d been down this road before, leaving early and spending the next few hours wrapped up in their sheets. Not this time, though, she decided as she nodded, allowing Erin to lead her out of the bar and into the empty, dimly lit streets. The walk was quiet, their fingers laced together to keep each other grounded, and Y/n didn’t miss the sideways glances being sent her way. Her doorstep finally came into view, and she knew that she needed to come up with a plan.

“This is me,” she sighed, moving to unlace their fingers and make a quick escape before her back was pressed firmly against the railing of the doorstep, “Thanks for walking me.”

“Hey,” Erin’s fingers latched onto her chin, turning her gaze up to meet her own, “Can I come in? We can just… I don’t know, hang out?”

Y/n’s cheeks warmed at her sly grin, and the alcohol was telling her to agree, “I don’t know, my parents are here.”

“We could go to my place?” The blonde suggested hopefully, “My brother won’t be home till later, and I really don’t wanna say goodbye yet.”

“Erin–”

“You look so pretty tonight,” she continued, her thumb rising to trace over Y/n’s bottom lip lightly. Her eyes narrowed, focusing on the curve of her lips intently before she finally lurched forward and connected them to her own.

For a moment, Y/n let it happen. This was her safe place, her routine, and it was difficult for her to deny herself of it regardless of what she felt towards Erin. Finally, she leaned her head back, parting from her with a wet noise and a sniffle. Her eyes burned with the oncoming tears, tears that she couldn’t even begin to explain or understand.

“Come back with me,” Erin whispered.

“I just–I’m really tired.”

“We can go to bed,” Erin smirked.

“Seriously, Erin. I’m like, really, really tired.”

An annoyed expression cracked across her features quicker than Y/n was even able to comprehend, as if she had been masking it the whole time, “Really? You’re still playing this little game of yours?”

Y/n tilted her head in confusion, “What?”

“Don’t act so innocent,” The blonde sneered, taking a step back and placing her hands firmly on her hips, “You’ve been stringing me along this whole time. I don’t know who told you that this little innocent act was cute, because it’s really not, nor is it very convincing. I mean, what’s keeping you from putting out like you’ve done with everyone else?”

“Excuse me?” A tear slid down Y/n’s cheek.

Erin shook her head, scoffing at her as she turned around, stalking off into the night without another word, leaving behind a trembling figure in the darkness as the creaking of the front door echoed in the silence.

“You got something you wanna tell me?”

***

Ellie couldn’t figure out which was worse, the blistering heat inside the bar or the bitter winter air that flooded her veins the moment that she stepped out into the street. For a split second, she almost followed the instinct to retreat back inside and find refuge in the warmth before remembering exactly what had brought her out into the cold to begin with.

The Tipsy Bison was busy that night, bodies colliding as drunken Jackson residents laughed and partied amongst one another. Ellie found herself in need of a drink, preferably in the largest glass she could find after the week she’d had. Jesse hadn’t given up on his desire to be her personal therapist, even though she’d been entirely unwilling to give him any more information on her love life than she already had, and had been prompting her to go off and find Y/n all evening.

Find her, was a poor choice of words, considering that Ellie had clocked her the second that she had set foot into the pub. More accurately, Jesse was eager to see her march over and confess her undying love in front of the whole of Jackson–Dina included.

There were times throughout the evening where she thought that their eyes might actually meet. The idea should have scared her, considering that she had absolutely no clue what she might do if she ever came face to face with Y/n again, and yet she found herself moving around as subtly as possible in hopes of catching her attention. Ellie’s mind kept drifting off to the constant question of whether or not Y/n had mourned what they had, or perhaps what could have been. She had moved on rather quickly, always being found with Erin not too far behind, though her appearance was not what it usually was; her normally tamed and styled hair was quite messy, and she wore muted colours in comparison to the bright, eye-catching shades of her favourite shirts.

She watched in silence over the entire evening, making sure to offer the occasional laugh or jab at Jesse’s expense to avoid being called out, though it would be impossible to avoid the all-knowing expanse of Dina’s watchful eye.

“Who’re you looking at?”

Ellie’s head snapped to the side, finding her friend leaning across to get a better look. The auburn haired girl shook her head, pushing her back gently, “Nothing. No one.”

Dina scoffed, “Oh please, you’ve got some kind of look going on right now. Who is it? Please don’t say it’s Cat.”

“God, no, it’s not Cat.” Ellie glanced down at her drink.

Dina leaned across Ellie’s body again to get a better look, eyes falling on the slouched figure that sat directly in her line of sight, “Then who–oh. Please don’t tell me you’re looking at who I think you’re looking at.”

Ellie rolled her eyes, “Jesus, what does it matter?”

“Ellie,” her tone mimicked a young mother who had just caught her child red-handed, “You know what it matters. Don’t do it.”

“I’m literally not doing anything.”

“No, but you’re thinking about it.”

“About what?” Ellie’s tone had a sharp edge to it as annoyance twisted her stomach. On top of the other shit that she was dealing with this week, she was not exactly in the mood to deal with Dina’s judgement.

Dina stared at her in disbelief, emotions running across her face quicker than the speed of light–confusion, annoyance, and then finally, anger. She shook her head, taking a long swig out of her glass before speaking, “About seeing if the rumours are true, going where literally every other guy has gone before.”

Jesse coughed, inserting himself into the tense conversation between his best friend and girlfriend, “Not every guy.”

Both females sent him a silencing glare before turning back to one another.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little dramatic, still freaking out about something that happened years ago?” Ellie insisted, “If it’s so bad, then why doesn’t anybody talk about it? Jesus, even she wouldn’t tell me.”

“Oh, so you’ve been talking to her?” Dina scowled.

“Am I not allowed to?” Ellie challenged, knees wobbling underneath her as she pushed herself off of the bartop behind her. Of course, the drinks she had would make themselves known now of all times, when she needed to at least be sober enough that she wouldn’t end up saying something to her friend that she didn’t really mean.

The raven haired girl pursed her lips, hands resting on her hips, “I can’t make you do anything, Ellie, but I figured that it’s common decency to not sleep around with people that your best friend hates.”

“I’m not–” Ellie paused, exhaling slowly through her nose as she caught herself from raising her voice any more than she had to, “I’m not just sleeping around with her.”

“But you are sleeping with her?” Dina caught on, “Jesus, Ellie, don’t tell me you fell into her little trap. I figured you’d be smarter than that.”

“Why–don’t change the subject. If you don’t want me hanging around with her, tell me why. If she really did something that horrible to you, I’ll let it go.”

“I shouldn’t have to,” Dina fumed, “You’re my friend, I shouldn’t have to beg you to not hang out with the people I hate. But if it really means that much to you, she convinced me to ask Jesse out, and then tried to steal him from me.”

Jesse blushed sheepishly from behind her, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, “I don’t think she really tried to–”

“So what would you call it then?” She turned sharply towards him, “She told you I didn’t like you, knowing fully well that I did. Why else would she do that?”

Jesse paused, almost as if he were about to come up with an answer before slowly shrugging, “I don’t know, but I guess you really didn’t get the full story.”

“Why are you defending her now?” She sneered.

“I’m not, I just,” Jesse rushed, seemingly unsure of how to undig the hole he’d gotten himself into, “I don’t think this is something that’s worth fighting over, right? I mean, if Ellie has feelings for someone, shouldn’t we, as her best friends, support her?”

“Feelings?”

Ellie groaned, glaring at Jesse. Leave it to him to spill every secret she’d ever told him. She downed the remaining whiskey in her glass, wincing at the delicious burn as it slid down her throat before starting marching away from the pair, “I’m not dealing with this shit right now.”

***

Y/n’s cheeks burned under the harsh coldness of the wind. Instantly upon stepping out of her house, she felt a deep mourning for the warmth of her bed and even considered scaling the side of the two story home to sneak in through the window, that way she could have a comfortable and warm place to sleep, but would still need to stay half awake out of fear of being found by her father. Instead, she took quick steps in the opposite direction, barely catching herself as she slipped on the nearly invisible ice that covered the ground.

When she finally stepped into the warmth of the stables, she leaned against the heavy wooden door as it sealed shut behind her and finally let the tears that had been burning her waterline drip down her cheeks. Her breath left her lips in heaving clouds, the air considerably warmer inside the barn than it had been outdoors, but still quite cold. Still, she would likely sleep sounder in the pile of hay in the corner than she would in her own bed.

“Hey, are you–shit, what the fuck happened?”

The last thing that Y/n had expected to happen was to find somebody else in the stables this late at night, let alone to find Ellie there. She had, of course, come around the corner from Shimmer’s stall, having come to find some comfort in her chosen steed after her falling out with Dina.

“Ellie–”

“Who did this to you?” Her cold fingertips slapped Y/n’s own palms away from her swollen jaw, lightly pressing them into the purple flesh and tilting her head back to examine the dark collar that had begun to bloom around her throat. Y/n’s silence seemed to draw an emotional response from the auburn-haired girl, “Fuck, who did this? Was it Erin?”

“No,” Y/n finally uttered, “Not her.”

“Jesus, come here,” Ellie spoke as if she were giving the girl any option other than to follow her commands, leading her further into the dimly-lit barn to see the full extent of her injuries.

Y/n felt a deep, uncomfortable sense of insecurity beginning to eat away at any form of confidence she may have had left. Throughout every conversation and intimate moment they’d shared, Y/n had never felt quite as vulnerable as she had when Ellie was able to see through every barrier that had been erected between them. She sat in silence as Ellie poked and prodded at her, digging through the emergency first aid kit to clean the cuts that had splintered the delicate skin of her cheek.

“My dad,” Her voice cracked as she finally broke the silence, “It was my dad.”

Ellie paused her movement for a brief moment before continuing to dab at the broken skin, “Why?”

Y/n cleared her throat, eyes darting around to look at anything Ellie’s piercing mossy stare, “He saw Erin kiss me. Turns out, he’d rather go back to have a shameless skank as a daughter than a…”

Ellie cursed under her breath, chucking the dirty cotton pads off to the side. She tried to shake the jealousy that coursed through her veins, more focused on the girl’s physical wellbeing than their recent romantic falling out, “Why’d you come here? I mean, I get not wanting to be at home after this… but why not go to Erin?”

Y/n snorted, “Why’d you come here? Last I saw, you were having a grand time with your friends. You’re sure you aren’t afraid they’re gonna come looking for you and find us together?”

Ellie didn’t respond, taken aback at the response, but not at all angry or frustrating with the girl’s rightful feelings towards her.

Y/n finally sighed, “Sorry.”

“No, I–uh, I think that was deserving.” She paused for a moment, “I’m sorry too, if that means anything to you. I was so, so shitty towards you.”

A small chuckle fell from her lips, “Yeah, you were. Somehow, you still treated me better than anyone else that I’ve been with.”

Ellie pursed her lips, thinking back on her conversation with Jesse and Dina earlier on, “Hey, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t wanna, but can I ask what happened with you and Dina?”

Y/n stiffened, “You mean she hasn’t told you? You’ve been going along with her hatred for me and you don’t even know why?”

“I know why on her part,” Ellie explained, “but I have a feeling your side of the story is gonna be a little different. Did you really try to steal Jesse from her?”

A scoff escaped her, disbelief escaping her features as an expression of guilt took its place, “Yes… and no.”

“Gonna need more than that.”

“I may have told Jesse that Dina wasn’t as into him as he was into her,” Y/n admitted, shoulders slumping as she stared down at her intertwined fingers, “But it wasn’t because I liked Jesse.”

“You like Dina,” Ellie concluded, a look of surprise on her face.

“Liked, past tense,” Y/n corrected, “There’s only so much a girl can take before any kind of positive feelings go away.”

“Does she know?”

Y/n shook her head, “At the time, it made more sense for her to hate me over Jesse than for her to hate me over this. It really wasn’t until you came to town and started dating Cat that I realised that I’d made a mistake, but it was too late.” A whimper fell from her lips as more tears began to trickle down her cheeks, “I’m sorry Ellie, for everything. I’m not mad anymore, I’d be pretty fucking embarrassed to be seen with me, too.”

Ellie lurched forward, grasping either of her cheeks in her cool palms, “No baby, no. I’m not embarrassed. I just, I was scared, and I didn’t understand. I could never be embarrassed to be seen with you. Shit, you probably wouldn’t even believe how fucking much it hurt, having to see you with her.”

Y/n stared up at her, eyes glassy in the dim lighting as Ellie continued to ramble, seemingly completely unaware of what she was actually saying, considering that Ellie Williams was one of the second most emotionally constipated people she had ever met, second only to Joel.

“And you wouldn’t believe the kind of shit I’ve been getting from Jesse the last few days over this. I’m starting to think he might have been some kind of therapist in a past life or something, telling me how stupid I am and analysing my feelings. God–”

She was cut off as Y/n leaned forward, pressing a soft, barely-there kiss on her lips before pulling away, as if she had never done it in the first place. Both girls stared at each other with wide eyes, trying their best to read the expression of the other for a moment before Ellie grasped the back of Y/n’s neck and pulled her into a much firmer and much longer kiss.

Y/n was pliant under her touch, allowing Ellie to mould her in whatever way she wanted. It was surprising to her that it was able to make her feel this good only a short while after her altercation with Erin, and how different it felt. With Erin, things felt forced, almost as if she wasn’t holding back as much as she initially thought she had been, but with Ellie, it was literally impossible to melt in her warm embrace.

Y/n was the one who pulled away, forehead topped forward to meet Ellie’s as she inhaled heavily, forcing some fresh air through her puffy, spit-slick lips, “Ellie, I–”

“I know.”

“No, I can’t go back to how things were. I can’t have only half of you.”

“You won’t.”

Her eyebrows rose in surprise, “What about Dina?”

“She knows. Sort of. I guess it was too much to ask that Jesse keep his mouth shut.” Ellie snorted, her hand moving back to stroke the girl’s swollen cheek. “I don’t care what she thinks. She’ll be mad for a while, but she’ll come around.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

Ellie sighed, pressing one more sweet kiss to her lips, “Then I guess it’s just you and me against the world, huh?”

tags: @xmycxx @ellieseyesonly @lissanovak @erikaar @gold-dustwomxn @viswifetotallyreal @kerst666 @uraesthete @hellokitty3821 @stxrluvr @pampeop @ximtiredx @3lliesrifle @ellieslittlegf @chiao1209 @mimsiemoo @scarletnighttt @waiting-till-im-okay @salitosblog @eleactric @pedrosballsack @yourgirlcin @catostrophiclesbian @lazyotakuofficial @smelliebellie @slaysksmska @pretty-prrincess-13

#reader insert #x reader #imagines #lesbian #ellie williams x reader #ellie x you #ellie x y/n #ellie x fem reader #ellie x reader #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie tlou

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