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bonny-kookoo · 3 months

Text

Jungkook

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐎𝐥𝐝𝐞𝐫 | In Motion

Moving on is scary. Moving back won't bring you forwards. But moving with someone at your side can be exciting.

Tags/Warnings: Aged up!Jungkook, Younger!Reader, Age Gap (9 years, JK is mentioned to be 34/35), Angst, Mature romance, Jungkook's ex wife, mentions of past physical abuse, mentions of alcohol abuse, fluff, flirty Jungkook, fluff!!, MCs Ex, police, Jungkook being the victim of bullying (dw), fluff?, nsfw but it's very light (sorry)

Length: 6k words

-> Masterlist

There is no taglist for this fic.

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“Its funny how a woman can change a man.” Yoongi mentions, sitting at the big company dinner next to Jungkook, who's both visibly distracted and upset to be present, phone being checked every few minutes or so- and Yoongi knows who he might be texting with. “why didn’t you bring her along?” He wonders, while Jungkook sighs.

“I’m actually not sure.” He admits. “I’ve been given a plus-one like always, and I planned on inviting her- but then I.. chickened out.” He shakes his head. “these events are boring as hell.” He says, eating his food with not much interest.

“What is she doing at home instead?” Yoongi asks, setting his own cutlery aside as he’s finished his plate.

“Cooking. She sent me a picture of some.. macaroni and cheese she made from scratch.” Jungkook smiles to himself as he thinks to the image you’ve sent him with multiple excited emojis to convey your happiness over it- having tried to wing it for the first time. “now she’s most likely watching her favorite show since it’s Tuesday.” He shrugs.

“Wow.” Yoongi jokes. “That’s so much more exciting, damn.” He flatly tells his friend, who rolls his eyes. “Jungkook, have you actually asked her if she’d ever want to tag along?”

“…Yes.. and she said she wouldn’t mind..” He admits shamefully so.

“Then bring her next time. You act as if you and her are George and Maria over there. You’re not sixty for God’s sake, and she didn’t turn legal yesterday either.” Yoongi shakes his head with laughter, amused by his best friend. He’s noticed the change in him pretty much immediately after the younger guy had returned from his vacation and days taken off- looking almost ten years younger, happy and most of all carefree. There was no worry on his face, no thoughts wrinkling his brows, no annoyance and clear signs of boiling burnout left.

“I.. want to ask her to move in with me.” Jungkook admits suddenly, staring at his food. “I know it’s a bit fast but.. I feel like this time, she really is the one for me.” He tells his friend, who shrugs.

“Its your decision. I’m happy you found someone good.” He simply answers him, refusing to really help in that regard. Jungkook can make this decision all by himself, after all.

And he should.

Back at his place, where he puts the car keys on the kitchen counter before he unbuttons his shirt to get ready to shower, he takes a small look around. The cooking utensils he bought just for you are still here, and so is your favorite blanket. The pillows he got are littering the couch, and yet, only you are missing.

You’re missing.

Even though you’re technically not even meant to be here all the time yet.

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Jungkook has become.. suspicious, to say the least.

You’ve been together for a few months now after all, and ever single one of them, for the same week or so, you vanish out of sight. And he’s not stupid.

He knows you don’t have an affair with someone else, or your work simply always calls you in during that time, because he knows you escape his sight even when you have days off. No, he knows exactly what it is, and he honestly doesn’t really know why you do it.

Do you think it grosses him out? Or that he doesn’t know how to deal with it? Knowing you at this point, he might just be right.

But he also can’t force you to come out and be with him during that time of the month if you don’t want to. You have to want this all by yourself, because otherwise, how can you both build a relationship that’s not the same as your past? He’s not that much better from your past boyfriend if he was to just overstep a boundary you clearly still have.

Back at work in his private office, he contemplates on messaging you. That could help, right? He types out a simple message, letting you know that if it really is what he thinks happens every month, then you don’t have to be worried at all.

He doesn’t mind. At all.

So he just texts you- tells you that if you ‘need anything at all’, he’d just bring it over and leave you be if that’s what you’re most comfortable with. However, instead of just texting back, you call him- making him wave towards his secretary in a manner that shows her he is for now unavailable unless urgent. “Well hello, darling.” He chuckles when he picks up the call, unaware that on the other end, his words still make you horribly shy.

“Sorry for not.. Uhm.. You know, calling you or anything.” You say, but Jungkook doesn’t mind.

“It’s no bother. We’re both still getting used to things, after all.” He reminds you. “Though I’d love some sign of life every now and then in the future. Just a quick ‘hey, I’m doing ok’ is really enough for me.” He offers.

“Sorry. I’ll think about it from now on.” You say, though Jungkook is pleased to hear that you don’t just do it out of submission- but that it sounds a lot more like relief, almost. As if you’ve waited for him to say this. “But uhm.. What do you mean by, ‘if I need anything’?” You wonder.

“I’m assuming you avoid me every month due to your period.” He says, and you just meekly answer with a sigh, and a ‘yeah’. “It’s no bother to me, really. It’s not gross or whatever you might think.”

“I’m just.. Moody and stuff. I’m worried I might.. I don’t know, be mean to you on accident.” You warn him, and he just laughs it off.

“I’m not that fragile, love.” He jokes. “And I doubt that you’ll end up calling me an asshole every second of the day if we spend time together.”

“No, I’d never!” you defend yourself, making him chuckle. “I just get cranky, and I don’t know.. I might just get onto your nerves.” You warn him.

“You could turn full on toddler on me, and I’d still take care of you.” He jokes. “I really don’t mind. How about we meet up later, and I’ll cook us something at your place? I have the weekend off, we could spend it together.” He offers, clicking a little through the rest of the E-Mails he has for today. “Or you could always.. Stay over at my place as well. You know I love it when you’re there with me.” He says.

You really like his place. To the point, where you actually begin to miss being there, despite having loved your little apartment for so long until now. It’s odd how his house has become somewhat of a safe-space, even thinking about it makes you feel good. And hearing that he personally enjoys having you over as well offers you some sort of hope that maybe one day, he might even want you there permanently.

What could living with him look like?

How long until he gets annoyed with you?

“I really like your home.” You confess quietly, and he waves off his secretary that’s about to knock- because he can feel he’s potentially at the very cusp of something. “Do you.. I mean..” You mumble, before you sigh. “Yeah sure, let’s uhm.. Spend the weekend together.” You tell him, and he realizes quickly that your tone is not very confident at all, despite the fact that you’re trying to make it seem like it is.

“It could be your home too, you know?”

He waits for you to answer, and he knows this needs some time to be thought through, but he truly believes that you’re the one for him. It doesn’t have to happen right away either- but he wants you to know that the option is there, if you’d like to take it someday.

“I-“ you start, when he can hear your doorbell ring in the background. “Sorry, I’ll be right back.” You tell him, leaving the phone for a little bit, silence the only thing that Jungkook gets to hear. Your phone probably cancels out whatever quiet noise might be there, so he’s unsure what’s going on, until you return to the phone again. “Can I call you back later?” You say after a moment, voice almost whispering.

“What’s wrong?” He asks, immediately alarmed by your behavior. He presses for an answer by saying your name- but still, you don’t answer. Until you finally do.

“He’s here.” You say,

And Jungkook immediately grabs the keys to his car, rushing out as fast as he can.

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Jungkook isn’t sure what he expected your ex to look like. But seeing him now, in front of your door as Jungkook walks closer, he feels his blood boil.

The man is not quite as tall as he is just like you mentioned a few months back, but he’s clearly training for muscle. A very intimidating body, and the second the man turns towards him, he spots the things you’ve told him before as well. His facial features are a lot sharper than Jungkook’s, eyes dark as they muster him up and down, frown on his face. “What do you want?” He asks, voice deep, raspy. Most likely from smoking- cigarette smell still clinging to the man in front of him.

“I’d like to visit my girlfriend, if you’d be so polite to make space for me to enter the door, please.” Jungkook speaks, tone held at a very specific tone as to not give away any emotions for his opponent to pick up on.

“Oh, so she got a rich guy now.” Your ex says, leaning back, arms crossed- most likely to present his muscles, something that Jungkook thinks looks simply childish. “Tell her she owes me money. I need it asap, and she keeps avoiding me.” He explains, and Jungkook nods.

“I’d love to tell her that.” He says. “But you’re still blocking the door.” he says, noticing both the very clear and sharp smell of alcohol, and the way he slightly sways a bit.

It’s quiet for a good moment, both men staring each other down, before your ex moves to the side, though it’s clear that he doesn’t do it as to admit defeat. Jungkook takes the chance and knocks at your door now, prepared that your ex might try and slip inside the second you open it. “Hey- it’s me.” Jungkook tells you through the door, and at that, you open it just a little bit, like you’re trying to check if he’s actually there or not.

Once you look at him, his entire face softens.

You look like a panicked animal that just escaped a shot to the head, eyes wide, staring up at him. At the sight of Jungkook you instantly open the door wider to welcome him inside, and he himself is quick to shut the door right behind him, a hand having tried to keep it open last second.

“I’m here now.” Jungkook reassures you while you cling to him, your ex having moved to knock and ring the doorbell constantly, angry about Jungkook’s antics. “Don’t worry. Let’s call someone to deal with him, and then we’ll go from there, alright?” He explains to you, as you detach yourself a bit, taking a few deep breaths at the instruction of Jungkook who’s still holding your arms as if to steady you. “Go sit down, I’ll make the call. Did he hurt you at all?” He worries, but you shake your head.

“I didn’t let him in.” You answer quietly, and Jungkook nods.

“Which is the best thing you could’ve done. Good job.” He praises, helping you sit down in your bedroom, as far away from the front door, which is still being tortured, as possible, before he walks back out into your kitchen, phone on his ear to call the police.

It all happens a lot quicker than he would’ve thought- your ex having apparently had gone against some very important guidelines he’s been given after a more recent violent crime he’s committed. “You can file in for a restraining order.” The officer tells Jungkook who nods. “Judging by the fact that he’s known already, that might be for the best. Those people are too unhinged to really be trusted.”

“Yeah, seeing him in person today has definitely made up my mind about some legal restrictions placed onto him.” Jungkook agrees. “Thank you for dealing with him so quickly.”

“No problem. You two have a calm rest of your day.” The officer says, before they drive off, your ex in the back of the police car.

The second he’s back in your home, having realized he actually knows the pin-code to your door, he carefully opens the bedroom door where you’re still hiding on your bed- and the second he nods, you get the message letting go of a deep breath, leaning against him the second he sits down on your bed. “The officer said we should probably file a restraining order towards him.” Jungkook tells you. “I think that’s a good idea as well. It would.. Definitely help me, knowing that he can’t get close to you.”

“...wait- it’s Tuesday, you were at work-!” You suddenly say, realizing that he probably left work early just to be here now. “You can go back now, I swear I’m fine-”

“The office won’t burn down just because I’m not there darling, relax.” He laughs, running a hand up and down your arm. “I’ve got the day off tomorrow anyways, and after that I’ll work from home for a while. So it’s not that bad, I promise.” He explains to you, who slowly nods. “And it was a family-emergency after all. They all surely understand that I suddenly ran off.” He jokes-

Though you feel oddly emotional at the mention of that phrase.

“Family emergency?” You ask quietly, and he nods, easily, as if it’s no big deal.

“My girlfriend was in trouble. I’d count that as a family emergency.” He shrugs, and you look at your knees, unsure about what to think. “Which, by the way.. And you can totally say no, it would be completely fine-” He starts, before he continues his sentence once you look at him. “-but.. My parents might want to meet you.” He reveals, strangely... shy almost.

“Might?” You wonder, and he nods, before sighing.

“I might’ve let it slip that we’re.. Well, a couple.” He admits. “And I can’t help it, really.”

“Can’t help what?” You wonder, making him play with the silver rings on his bottom lip.

“I tend to.. Ramble on and on when it comes to you. So when they asked about you, I just.. I couldn’t help it. And now my family is very much curious to meet you.” He explains, and you smile to yourself.

“Well.. I mean, I don’t mind?” You say. “What’s the worst that can happen, am I right?”

“Oh god you don’t know my family.” He dramatizes playfully. “My mother can be a handful, and my brother will most likely just go on and on about some embarrassing stuff that happened when we were kids.” he groans, and you can’t help but grin.

“Are you scared I might end up hearing something you’d otherwise keep from me?” You wonder, and he glares at you, before he suddenly smiles. “But really. I don’t mind meeting them, if you’re okay with that.” You say.

And Jungkook can’t help but lean over at that to kiss your lips, realizing just how serious you’re both getting.

“You’re the only one I’d ever want them to meet.”

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Jungkook’s parents have never liked his ex wife.

That’s information you’ve been told later that night before Jungkook had left to go home- and you’re unsure how to think about that. You feel like there’s now a standard you have to reach, and you’re not sure if you can. If you meet them, and it doesn’t work out, what will they think of you?

Your ex has never really let you meet his parents much- only fleetingly, when you met them by chance at the local grocery store or in similar situations. You know that Jungkook has a brother who’s been married for much longer than Jungkook has been- will he judge you for being so much younger than Jungkook himself?

Will his parents think you’re not a good fit for him because you’re too young? Or do they know already?

You’re currently washing dishes from the breakfast Jungkook and you had at his place today, when the doorbell rings. You’ve spent the night after admitting that you weren’t feeling good about sleeping at your own place after what happened, and he understood- happily telling you that you can always stay at his house for as long as you’d like. You wonder if he meant permanently.

He’s been hinting at it for quite a bit now.

A dog almost jumps up on you, another one following- two tiny whippets excitedly yapping at you, before a young man calls them towards him. Only now do you see three people entering the house through the front door- an older couple, and the young man who you assume owns the dogs, Jungkook standing on the sidelines, hiding his face in his hand.

“Oh, you must be her!” The woman says, and you instantly know that she must be his mother. He inherited quite a bit of her facial features, though you can also see his father in him as well, the man a lot quieter than her, simply hanging up her coat before greeting his son properly. “Oh you do look young! But very pretty.” She tells you, before she tells you her name. “When did you change the furniture? It looks so much brighter in here without that weird sofa in the living room.” His mother exclaims, as Jungkook enters the open kitchen.

“I- mom, when I said you could visit I didn’t mean today.!” Jungkook almost whines, before he throws you an apologetic look. “And also, what are you even doing here?” He asks the young man who very clearly has to be his brother from visual appearance alone.

“Hey, I gotta know who the pretty girl is who caught my baby brother’s attention!” He teases, smacking Jungkook’s back. “You’ve been going on and on about her, you can’t blame me for being curious.” He explains himself, before he reaches out to you. “Junghyun. Nice to meet you.” He greets you, before he boldly moves to take a look inside the fridge.

It's odd how you just instantly know the dynamic of his family from this small interaction alone.

Jungkook quickly somehow gets his family to sit in the living room while telling them that he’ll make them something to drink, before he joins you in the kitchen again. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know when J talked to them yesterday that they would show up literally 24 hours later-“ he apologizes, but you wave him off.

“Its.. not that big of a deal. They seem nice- and it would’ve had to happen at some point, right?” You wonder, and he nods.

“Still, it must be at least somewhat uncomfortable. I know I’d like to be prepared to meet your parents.” He sighs, moving to make some coffee for his parents after pecking your lips once.

“…would you?” You ask, and he turns around after clicking the right buttons on the coffee machine in front of him. “meet my parents, I mean.” You ask, unsure.

“I.. yeah?” He rubs the back of his neck a little. “I’m.. I mean, I don’t know if they’re even aware that you’re seeing someone-“

“They are.” You admit. “they.. I told my mom. After we.. after Christmas.” You explain, and he listens with interest, letting you go at your own pace however. “She’s.. they both know you’re older, and my dad is not very happy about that. But my mom seemed welcoming of the idea.” You tell him honestly, and he nods. “they’re scared too, you know? After all that happened.”

Jungkook nods. “I completely understand. And even without that-“ he shrugs. “-I guess any parents would be suspicious of a relationship like ours.” Be admits and you nod as well, well aware that your parents might not be as easy going as his are. “but well make it work. Right?” be asks, and you know what he’s asking.

Not if you’re gonna make it work- but if your parent’s possibly being against your relationship could be a deal breaker for you.

“Yeah.” You say, because you’re not going to let this be taken away from you, by anyone. You’ve had a taste of what your life could be like if you were to just let it happen- and you don’t want to hide away and be trampled over anymore. You want him, you want this life and this future you might have together- no matter what.

And Jungkook can’t help but walk closer to you, kissing your lips while he tenderly holds your cheeks.

“Mom, Jungkook is making out with his girlfriend instead of making Coffee!” his brother yells, and Jungkook leans back at that, jaw clenched and tongue prodding against the inside of his cheek while he’s got his eyes closed, having to restrain himself you imagine. But you can’t help and giggle at the situation- visions of what those two brothers might’ve been like as children filling your mind, curiosity growing.

What was he like before Evelyn? Before he married? Before he met her?

“get out!” Jungkook barks, taking a towel from the sink to hit his brother with it, the laughing older male running off back into the living room, where you follow- carefully carrying the two cups of coffee Jungkook had forgotten in his playful rage against his sibling.

“Thank you.” His mother says, smiling warmly, while his father only nods, face however gentle, and friendly. You sit down after that, in the corner of the sofa, listening to the two brothers fighting in Jungkook’s office, before his father speaks up.

“My son mentioned that you two have.. Quite the age gap between you.” He says, and you nod. “And that doesn’t bother you?” He asks, and you shake your head.

“It.. Did. In the beginning.” You admit, his father now visibly interested in your answer as he didn’t expect you to admit something like that so outright. “I was worried that he might.. Think of me as childish. Or that our ambitions might differ too much, since we’re both at different points in our lives.” You explain, his mother now listening in as well. “I mean.. Let's just take family-planning for example. He’s a lot closer to settling down than I am, technically.” You explain, and his mother nods. “But I realized that, if we talk about these issues, we can solve them together. Make compromises, so we can meet in the middle, so to speak.”

“Has he spoken to you about his.. Past marriage?” His father asks, and you nod.

“I’ve met his former wife a few times. And I’m.. Somewhat aware of the things that happened in the past- though I’m sure he didn’t tell me everything yet.” You say. “And I respect that. We’re still.. At the very beginning of our relationship after all.” You chuckle a little, nervously, but suddenly, his father smiles.

“Stop interrogating my girlfriend just because I’m not here.” Jungkook interrupts the conversation, protectively sitting in between his father and you- though that wasn’t the smartest idea, since his father just quietly pats his back rather roughly, making Jungkook complain in embarrassment. “What the fuck dad?” He asks, but his father just laughs.

“Stop hitting him darling, you’re gonna break his back!” His mother complains, and you can’t help but smile at the mention of that petname- making it clear where Jungkook got the habit from, since he calls you the same most of the time. It’s cute.

You’re happy to see that he has such a nice family.

“So, when are you gonna bring a kid into this world, huh?” His brother asks shamelessly, making Jungkook choke on his water. “Hey, come on. I’ve got the second one on the way, you can’t make me do all the work here!” He teases, making Jungkook turn towards you.

“I’m so sorry- if you want them to leave, just tell me.” He says towards you, but much to his dismay, you shake your head.

“I don’t mind them.” You say, and his brother grins, before he leans forwards towards you.

“Did you know that Jungkook used to be scared of the microwave-” Jonghyun starts, and Jungkook throws his head back, groaning in agony.

All while you can’t help but be happy that his family seems to like you.

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Later on, once they all left again, he talks to you once more in the living room after the dishes had been washed, and you both had gotten ready to just laze around and go to bed later. “I’m really sorry they showed up unannounced. That was terrible of them-” He shakes his head still, holding you in his arms on the couch while a random TV series plays quietly in the background, commercial break ongoing. “-and I’m also sorry I left you alone with them. I hope they didn’t interrogate you too hard.”

“It was fine.” You brush off, telling the truth. “We just.. Spoke about the age gap.” You explain, and Jungkook sighs. “And I told them that, you know, yes, it did bother me at first. And I know that it bothered you too.” You admit, making him stare blankly, listening to your words. “But that we.. Work together. If problems occur, we find compromises. Put equal effort into it so we meet in the middle, you know what I mean?” You say, and he nods.

“Yeah, I see where you’re coming from. What did they answer to that?” He wonders, but you shrug.

“He just asked if I knew Evelyn, and I said that yes, I’ve met her a few times.” You remember. “And that I know you probably didn’t yet tell me everything, but that it’s fine because neither have I. Since we’re still.. Pretty new.” You offer. “And then you came back, so we didn’t talk further.”

“My brother can be so terrible, I swear.” He huffs. “Two years older and thinks he’s always got the upper hand in everything..” He mumbles.

“Well, from what I’ve been told, he is a bit quicker with things than you.” You giggle. “Second marriage, second child-”

“Second job after he kept slacking off at his first, second house because he got kicked out of the first, second dog because one wasn’t enough-” Jungkook goes on, and you can’t help but laugh out loud. “-Hey, stop laughing about that!” He complains, moving his hands to pinch your sides, only causing your laughter to intensify as you try and slip away from him. But you’re unsuccessful, rather ending up somewhat manhandled down into the couch, with him above you, your wrists pressed into the cushions below you.

It doesn’t take long for him to lean in and kiss you, the knowledge of everything that happened today settling in. You’ve been so understanding about everything, calm and collected even though he knew that you must’ve been at least somewhat intimidated by the whole situation. You still handled it perfectly in his opinion, facing it all head on.

He’s so in love with you.

His kisses slow down after a moment or two- and you know why they do. He’s not really a fan of getting heated on the couch of all places, preferring the bedroom or maybe the shower- and sure, you have indeed gotten rather scandalous in other places of his house before, but if he can control himself, he does.

Laying next to you, your head on his biceps, he just observes you for a moment before he speaks again.

“Move in with me.” He says, and you’re caught by surprise at the sudden proposal. “I’ve got.. Enough space. A room you can have just for yourself if you ever want some time to yourself. I can continue renting out your old place too if you’d like.” He tells you, hand resting on your waist. “Just.. I’d like to have you close. Every day.” He says. “And night of course.”

“I mean.. if you’re okay with that?” You say, unsure. “you don’t have to do it just because.. we’re a couple, you know? I can be.. a little chaotic, and loud, you might not-“

“I wouldn’t have proposed the idea if I didn’t want it, darling.” He chuckles, easing your mind quite a bit. “Think about it though, before you answer me now. I realize I might’ve come off a bit.. strong with how I phrased it.” He hums, slowly sitting up again with you next to him. “What I really want to say is.. If you wanted to move in with me, I’d welcome you with open arms so to say.” He offers, and you nod.

“I’ll think about it.”

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“Hm?” You wonder still half asleep, Jungkook right behind you with his hands running over your skin, legs entangled and lips kissing the back of your neck.

“You’ve been sleeping for ages.” He complains lightly, his own eyes barely open. “been waiting for you to wake up.”

“..whats.. why?” You ask, moving a little to stretch your legs out.

“hm, why..” he just repeats, hands traveling further and further until one of them finds its way beneath your light shirt you wear, bare chest warm beneath his palm. It’s clear to you now what exactly he’s been aiming for when waking you up- intentions obvious, especially with the way he presses himself into you from behind.

You do have to admit, that it’s been a few days since the last time you two got together like this. With some stress at his work and your own life, you didn’t want to bother him too much- rather deciding to let him reach out on his own, so you know that he’s up for it.

“You smell nice.” Jungkook comments, running his nose over the crook of your neck. “Is that the.. pink bottle you left here last time?” He asks a bit slurred, himself still somewhat asleep.

“Hmhm.” You nod. “It’s.. yeah. I forgot it.” You explain, moving a bit to give him better access, and also to show that you’re okay with this. “it’s body lotion.”

“smells better on you than it does on me.” He chuckles.

“You used it?” You wonder, and he shrugs, before moving to position himself over you, reaching into his bedside table for a condom.

“Hey you left it here!” He defends himself. “but it didn’t smell as nice on me.” He admits, shrugging before he moves to shed his cotton pajama pants- the shirt long gone, a habit of his during the night.

“Well, now I’m here.” You say, and he nods, smiling.

“You are.” He agrees, tapping your hips to make you lift them, his hands pulling down your underwear and sleep shorts off in one go. He gives the condom to you for now, before he lifts your legs over his shoulders, head lowering between your thighs to eat you out. He’s got a habit of holding eye contact with you during the act, and even now, he does so- soaking up every one of your reactions, eager to see you restless beneath his touch.

This is the type of love he’d hoped for when he married. This is what he thought could grow from nothing.

But he’s realizing now that that was a mistake- you can’t just hope for the best and then be disappointed when things don’t turn out the way you’d wanted them. There’s got to be effort put into it, and knowing that now makes him accept the fact that his ex wife isn’t the only reason his marriage failed. He himself also made mistakes, many of them- agreeing to going out with her when he didn’t love her being one of them.

There’s no clear villain and no obvious victim in his story.

Your skin is soft beneath his hands as he runs them up and down the sides of your legs- body squirming from his actions beneath them, as you experience things you haven’t before. You’ve never really had anyone ever pay so much attention to you in any way- be it sexually or just with the way that he calls daily to make sure he at least checks in with you whenever you’re apart. And thinking about it, there’s nothing speaking against living together- what's really the worst that could happen?

You’ve been through the worst. You know that Jungkook would never be anything close to that.

Your hand finds its way into his hair, unsure where else it’s supposed to go- and you’re faintly apologetic about the way you’re most likely tugging on it the second he pushes you over the edge- but he’s visibly uncaring of it, none of it bothering him it seems. He chuckles as he comes back up to you, wiping his face with his hand before he watches you open your eyes again to look at him. “You okay?” He chuckles, and you nod.

“I want to move in with you.” You say, and he’s caught off guard, eyes wide for a second before he leans back a little to properly look at you.

“You sure?” He wonders, and you nod.

“Hmhm.” You nod. “I.. Want to.” You tell him, and he smiles, clearly excited.

“Okay.” He nods. “Okay! Yeah, we can.. Uhm, I mean, I’ve got the next week and a half set for home-office, so I can help you with the furniture?” He proposes, and you laugh, almost in relief, before he steals the still wrapped condom from your hand that's been holding it the entire time, face leaning down to kiss you.

"But first, let me love you some more."

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook imagine #bts jungkook imagine #bts smut #bts jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic

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romeosharpae · 11 months

Text

“FOUR MONTHS”

theodore nott x reader

(Yes after one year I'm back with toxic Theodore Nott). You don't have to read part one..

Warnings; Possessive behavior, manipulation, toxic relationships, mentions of obsession, mature sex scenes, unprotected sex, rough sex, swearing, smoking, degradation (Not a lot), theodore nott × female feader, toxic! theodore nott

parts: 1,

There was something in the air this morning, a soothing feeling that made you a little more peppy. So as you skipped to the great hall, books clutched tightly to your chest, a small smile couldn’t help but to be on your lips.

It was the winter — your favorite season, so perhaps that was the reason for your sudden happiness this morning. You’d even wore a little grin through transfiguration, your least favorite class at Hogwarts.

But you were a happy girl generally, nice to everyone who crossed your path. You helped little first years avoid experiencing the wrath of Draco Malfoy. You also helped professors (For sure not Mcgonagal) help clean up after compliance lessons.

That’s just who you are.

“You look pretty today,” Is what Hermione Granger, your best friend, greets you with as you took a seat aside her. No you weren’t a Gryffindor — but you often found yourself sitting at the orange and red more than your own.

“Yeah, I like what you’ve done to your hair.” Harry Potter lowly added in with a sly smile, and you simply reflected it. Ron Weasley, who was aside Hermione let out a little snort in response to his best friend’s attempt to flirt.

Harry Potter – the boy who lived, the boy who everyone without any sort of spite or jealousy in their body adores. Sometimes you even found yourself admiring him — considering him as a form of replacement from your last fling.

“Thank you both,” You giggled,

“Well, I’m happy that your happy, Y/L/N” Hermione declared with a smile, “You see how much happier you are now? Compared to when you allowed that psycho to contr--"

And just like that, there was a damper in your happy mood.

Hermione always made extremely bold comments about your previous unhealthy relationship with Theodore Nott; Which is probably why he hated the fact you two were friends, not because she was a muggle. Truthfully, she’s the one that hyped you up to end things with him — but as you more think of it, she forced you too.

Because despite everything the tall raging brunette put you through, you still found your self right underneath him with a dizzy smile. But that hasn’t happened in four months, not since the day he dragged you out of the party. Shivers roll down your spin as you remember the events that happened that day,

You’ve got fourth months with his touch, without his complications.

And despite missing Theodore some nights, you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a breath of fresh air. Like the air didn’t feel lighter without him breathing down your neck about showing any other male besides him attention – without him declaring that despite his lack of commit now, you’ll be baring his children later.

You recall how hearing those words made you feel months ago — Well, it did make you finish, but that’s completely besides the point — it finally made you realize that Theodore Not didn’t actually love you.

And neither did he want anyone else too.

Not because he loved you, but because had a unhinged obsession for you. The more you thought of it, the more you realized how clear Theo’s behavior displayed fixation.

How did you not realize it back in first year when he got seriously angry with Blaise Zabini for trying to be your friend?

It makes your stomach twist to think that you and Theodore's friendship was build off of an obsession – one that clearly grew worse as the years progressed.

"You alright over there, Y/L/N?" Ron questioned reluctantly,

You pulled yourself out of your thoughts, turning to him with a small awkward smile across your lips, "Yes I'm fine, just got a little distracted, that's all."

"You always seem to suddenly get distracted when I bring up Nott." Hermione mumble, rolling her eyes. Because you're always telling me to leave him.

Is what you wanted to say, but instead you settle for a simple shrug.

You were sitting criss-cross on an knitted blanket in front of the black lake, skimming over the newest daily prophet in your hands. The full moon reflected softly against the lake water, making you awe.

Everytime a full moon lit the sky your found yourself out here, enjoying the peace. And no one knew about it — you weren't a prefect and your house leader would kill you if they found out you were out here past hours.

Well, you thought no one knew about your secret adventures to the black lake.

It was not until the loud familiar scent of smoke filled your nostrils that you understood that someone was here also. And with the heavy cologne that mixed with it, you didn't have to look back to know who it was.

"Leave. Me. Alone" You growled sternly, ignoring the thudding in your heart.

Of course you'd still hang with Blaise and Pasny every now and then. But when Theo walked in you immediately flee, knowing that being around him would result with him being inside of you in moments.

And your sure he knew that, which is exactly why the brunette is here. "So you don't think I've done that enough for the past four fucking months, Y/N?"

Venom dripped from Theodore's voice, and had you not been so used to Theodore being upset with the stuff you do — The coldness of his tone would have made you scared enough to jump away from him.

Your head snapped back in his direction, generally you were a nice happy girl. But during the times you weren't so sweet, it was Theodore Nott who got that wrath.

Who brought out that side of you.

"No, No." Theo's jaw clenched at your harsh words, lips parting slightly to allow smoke to slip past them. "Because I want you to leave me alone for the rest of my life."

"Did Granger help you come up with that?" Theodore snickered. There wasn't a actual thought in your brain when you rolled your daily prophet and launched it in his direction. He kissed it teeth when the parchment landed softly on his cheek.

The brunette takes another hit short of his cigarette, not giving your outburst a reaction. You stand up to your feet, preparing to collect your stuff and go back on school grounds.

He threw the cigarette on the ground, approaching you. You take a step back, not wanting to feel his touch — the touch that you have been craving for four months.

“Why does everyone get the sweet little Y/N except for me?" He cooed, eyebrows raising.

"What did I do to deserve this nasty side of you Y/L/N, huh?" Everything. "Did I not fuck you good enough last time?"

"You know it is not about that!" You defensively shouted out. Tears began pricking at the corner of your eyes, processing that the only thing you are to him is a fuck. "--You know that it's never been about that!"

You had like Theodore since third year, immediately awed with the matured boy that he became over the summer. And Theo knew your feelings for him — in fact, you told Theo about your feelings right before you had sex for the first time — he just didn't care.

He stared down at you, beautiful eyes glistening underneath the moon light. For a moment you swear you see pity flash in his eyes.. or maybe regret?

It makes you frown — You didn't want Theodore to pity you. It made you feel weak, always finding yourself with him when your in your weakness moments. Because despite his blunt toxic behavior, before your separation, Theodore always is there when you fail a test you study hard for or had complications with your family – He's the shoulder that you lean on, and the root of your problems.

“I miss you"

Something about those words fueled your feelings more, anger bubbling higher. "No you don't Theodore, you miss having me wrapped around your finger."

That regret.. or pity fades away quickly, replaced with anger in seconds.

“Do you even know how many girls I have wrapped around my finger, Y/N?" His mean tone makes you let a small sob. "How many girls wish upon stars that I had the feelings for them that I do you?!" Theodore takes this moment to grab your chin, yanking you closer to him before you got a chance to stop him. He hovers over you, fingers digging into the flesh of your skin. Blue eyes looking down at you like your prey he's prepared to fight for.

“You don't really care about me!"

"Shut up." He growled.

His mouth attacks yours in a feral manner, making you gasp loudly. The faint taste of his chapstick spreads is in your mouth,

And being that naive girl you are, you welcomed his lips eagerly. The hairs of your skin stood up fully, mind becoming foggy while Theodore desperately slides his tongue into your mouth. It makes you sob out louder, tears slipping from your eyes.

Hermione would be so mad if she knew how easily you allowed him in — The lack of fight that you put up with Theo. But you tried, you really did for four entire months..

You really tried your best too stay away from the boy that you loved so deeply.

“I--T--" Is what you choked out moments before Theodore hand slides to the back of your throat, making the kiss much deeper and tongue sloppier. Your noses were smushed against each other — there was nothing you could make out but his scent.

You didn't exactly get to register when it happened or how it happened. But someway, probably with magic, you ended underneath Theodore on your blanket.

Without wasting another second Theodore hooks his finger into the waist band of your shorts and underwear. "Why is things always so complicated with you?"

His words were harsh and the glare on his beautifully structured pale face makes you cry out even harder. The pad of his thumb catches one of your tears when it falls,

“Y/N Why can't you understand that this is perfect?" He wondered bluntly. His eyes look down at your exposed area, "That this is where you should be, with me."

“No--No I shouldn't--" You shouted, Theo grabbed your legs and spread them as far as they could go. "-- Your no good for me"

That makes the brunette scoff defensively – surely thinking that Hermione fed you that. But you knew it was true – If you stuck beside Theodore, you'd be mental by thirty.

A loud gasp fell from your lips when Theo pushed himself into you without any warning. Theirs something in your body that became at ease with the familiar stretch,

As if it been begging for it.

Not giving you a chance to prepare yourself, Theodore bottomed out in you. He groaned loudly as you flutter against him, practically welcoming him in you.

Theo begins snapping his hips forward at a pace that makes your eyes squeeze shut. You wish that you could hate him,

"Yeah, but that doesn't matter.." He finally responded to your comment. The loose curls of his hair brushed against your forehead as Theo leaned down, lips grazing softly against yours. A high pitched whimper left your lips at every thrust he gave you, an hot pain spreading inside in your lower half. Yet you couldn't stop your hips from jumping up, begging for more. “I'm good right now, aren't I?" He mocked,

His tongue invaded your mouth, like he's attempting to swallow your face whole. You kissed back instantly, tongue lapping over his as you both moaned.

Some moments you wished to know what Theodore was thinking when the two of you were together — and other times you didn't, not actually wanting to be right about his lack of love towards you.

His mouth left yours, spit following suit. Instead he began sucking on the skin of your new and chest, leaving bruises. "Mine." Theo growled, squeezing your breast.

You just shook your head frantically at his possessive words, not being able to form a literal disagreement. You weren't Theodore’s.. and unfortunately he wasn't yours.

He squeezed you harder, thrust forming a harsher pace as well, knocking the wind out your chest and making you gasp.

Tears slipped from your eyes from the pleasure, and your fingers began scratching against his arms. If your mind hadn't been so fogged out, you'd be embarrassed from how fast your release caught up.

“Say you won't leave again..." Theo spoke words were stone cold and you tried ignoring them — knowing that you planned on going back into hiding from him.

His cold hand snakes up around your neck, giving it a tight squeeze that makes you squeal. Your sure he notices that your avoiding his request and perhaps that's why his hips began to move at a slower pace – But you really had not expected him to completely stop,

The was absolutely no way he was going to leave you on edge like that. As your eyes flew open you sobbed out, Theodore wore a plain expression. His light eyes were already looking directly into yours,

You attempted to take matters into your own hands by beginning to slip up his length. But Theodore, who clearly wasn't having none of it, pushed you away by your stomach, pulling out of you completely now.

"Say it, Y/N!" He slightly shook you, "Or I swear I'll leave you like this-- Say it--"

"I--I'm not gonna leave!" The words left unexpectedly from your lips. And you really wish you could say you only said it to get your release but that wouldn’t be true. “..Ever again"

Theodore smiled widely at your words, pressing his face against your neck. And you both let out a loud sigh of comfort when he slid back inside of you,

You don't even know how you lasted four months without him.

Part three>>>

#theodore nott #theodore nott x reader #smut #harry potter #theodore nott smut #theo nott #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fanfiction #hogwarts #lorenzo zurzolo #cherries #hp fic #hp fanfcition #hp fandom #slytherin

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mockerycrow · 11 months

Note

could we get “here, you can sleep in my shirt” with neighbor!ghost after the reader gets locked out of her apartment in a thunderstorm maybe? i’m horrible w coming up w ideas but have been EATING UP your works lately!

Downpour (Ghost x GN!Reader)

ghost masterlist - crow’s mega masterlist

“Here, you can sleep in my shirt.”

A/N: LOOOOKKKKKK i usually keep prompts for events and this one got sent in after i ended the celebration, but i had to do it!!! i also apologize this took so long. i also made this gn, i know you used she/her pronouns but i finished this when i realized 🫠 i’m sorry!

[WARNINGS: none, tension perhaps!]

THE ENTIRE DAY, it had been raining nonstop. The humidity was raising by the hour, making everything sticky and somehow even more wet than it was before. You’d try to wipe your hands dry from the rain, but it’s like you were just spreading the water droplets around, the air so humid as it never gave the water a chance to dry up on its own. It didn’t help that your entire day went to shit, too. Your car ended up breaking down and you missed the bus by just a few minutes, making you late for work. You ended up missing the bud on the way back as well, forcing you to walk to work in the rain, and walk back home in the rain.

Lucky you, your boss wasn’t as mad as you expected them to be.

You shudder as your soaking wet clothes stick to your skin, making your way up a few flights of stairs to your apartment floor. You had goosebumps lining your arms under your soaked shirt, your shoulders uncontrollably shaking as you walked down the hall, tracking wet droplets onto the carpet that probably hasn’t been cleaned in a few years, but has one of those designs that hide the dirt and grime. You hiss quietly in an attempt to distract yourself, your hands patting your pockets for your keys. You grab them and pull them out and you insert the key into the key hole and you turn—but the damn metal breaks, your key successfully snapping in half. Your jaw genuinely drops as you stand there for a moment, a tense, “Are you fucking kidding me?” spilling from your lips.

It’s too late to call the building manager to come along and help you, and it’s definitely too late to call a locksmith of some sort. You know none of your friends or family are awake by this point, either. You curse quietly as you bend at your knees and pitifully attempt to wiggle the broken part of the key out of the deadbolt, you even try to turn the key by lining up the base of the key to the shaft—but of course, it doesn’t work. You’re so focused on your door that you don’t notice your neighbor across the hall has opened his door, watching you in silence for a moment. “Today of all days.” You angrily mutter, pathetically kicking the bottom of your apartment door, as if it’ll magically swing open for your convenience. You hear someone clear their throat and you jolt because it’s late, and you didn’t expect anyone to be around.

You turn around and blink when you meet eyes with your neighbor—Simon. He’s standing in the doorway, one hand grasping his door, the other leaning on the doorframe on the side. He’s a big man—tall and muscular, shoulders broad and wide, torso following and tapering off near his waist. His arms were big too, and no doubt his legs are the same. He has a strong jaw with little stubble, his hair a shabby blonde, paired with some dark brown eyes that certainly tell a story. He had a bunch of noticeable scars, but you weren’t one to ask about that sort of thing. You know he has a tattoo sleeve, but you’ve never been close enough to know the details of said tattoo sleeve. The thing that surprised you the most, though, is that he’s home in the first place. You knew that he worked in the military, although he was pretty private about everything concerning himself so you didn’t know details. During your small interactions, you’ve managed to become friends.

“Hi.” You say sheepishly, coddling your keys in your hand. Simon’s eyes roam your body from head to toe before his lips curl into the most subtle smile. “Got caught in the rain, hm?” He rasps out, tilting his head ever so slightly to the right. You nod and almost with comedic timing, you begin to shiver again. “Seems you’ve broken your key, too.” Simon adds unhelpfully, moving his hand from the doorframe. You huff and rub your upper arms in an attempt to somehow keep warm whilst dripping water all over the hallway carpet. “Thanks, Captain Obvious.” You reply, your voice dripping with sarcasm. Simon huffs, the sound nearing a chuckle as he speaks up. “It’s lieutenant, actually.”

Your eyebrows raise for a moment because Simon actually shared something slightly personal with you—his rank in whatever branch of the military he’s in. “Well.. Lieutenant Obvious,” You begin, your voice coming out as a gentle tremble as the cold hallway isn’t doing you any favors. “It’s nice to see you home safe.” Simon clicks his tongue against the inner of his cheek, his eyes boring into your figure without responding. He seems hesitant, his posture stiff as he scans your face and your body language. Simon makes eye contact with you once again, the air thick with tension until he makes his decision; he slowly opens the door wider and steps out of the way, wordlessly gesturing you to come inside.

You try to hide your total and utter surprise, but it doesn’t last long as you quickly tread into his apartment, seeking warmth. You couldn’t say that you didn’t try to imagine what the inside of his apartment looked like—he always came over to yours. His apartment is fairly blank, but in its own way; it’s homey. Comfortable. It’s one hundred percent Simon. There isn’t really any photos of himself nor his family. There’s a couple of paintings that he’s bought over the years, definitely symbolizing different things you don’t know about him. There’s a couple pairs of shoes on a rack near the front door—some running shoes, a pair of working boots, and a pair of shoes that obviously haven’t been worn in years, judging by the layer of dust covering the toes of the shoes. Otherwise, from what you can judge from standing near his living room, you can tell he keeps everything neat and clean.

You hear the front door shut and lock behind you, and you hear his heavy footsteps begin to approach. “You should get warm. I’ll grab ya a towel. Take a shower, yeah?” His voice is low and nearly rumbling in your own chest as Simon approaches you, and you turn to look at him. He presses his lips into a thin line as he makes eye contact with you again, his eyelids naturally lidded. “I’ll throw your wet clothes in the wash for you in the mornin’.”

You nod and don’t bother to question anything at that time, your skin covered in harsh goosebumps, your clothes no where near the point of drying. “Where’s your bathroom?” Your voice is a bit meek as you speak, the coldness of the water is beginning to get to you. Simon walks over to a clothes basket near the couch, speaking as he does so. “Down the hall, middle door on the left. Door should be open.” You don’t waste any time and you quickly get yourself to his bathroom. You close the door behind you and your hand finds the light switch, flipping it on. His bathroom is a decent size—which is surprising for the size of the apartment. You don’t feel incredibly cramped, which makes sense for Simon.

You peel the soaked clothing off of you and they land on the floor with a gross slopping sound, causing you to wince. You decide to wring the remaining water out of your clothes into the bathtub before putting them in a pile on the bathroom floor, as Simon doesn’t have a clothes hamper in there. You put your phone on the sink counter, and luckily you managed to keep it dry. Being stripped from your sopping clothes, your skin is cold to the touch, but you begin to feel yourself naturally warm up. You draw back his shower curtains and manage to figure out how to operate his shower—you always found other peoples bathtubs and showers to be puzzles to use. You turn the knob a couple of times and feel the water that’s splattering down from the shower head into the tub, and you step into the tub after you deem the temperature the right one.

You close the shower curtain and you huddle yourself under the water that’s beating down onto you—it nearly burns as it’s running against your cold skin, but you grind your teeth and bare it because in reality, it isn’t that hot. You’re just incredibly chilly. You make sure to put your head under the stream of water too, and you’re enjoying the warmth so much you jolt when you hear Simon’s knocking at the bathroom door. Before you can answer, you hear the door open—but just a smidge. “I ‘ave a towel for you here,” Simon announces, raising his volume a bit so you can hear him over the water. “I’ll hang it on the towel rack.”

You shout a quick thank you over the water, hear him shuffle for a moment and then the bathroom door closing with a swift click. You appreciate his offer of comfort, while also respecting your privacy in such a vulnerable space. You make sure to take your time in the shower; allowing yourself to bask in the warmth coming from his pipes, the water running over your shoulders and down your torso, replacing any sense of coldness you’d earned by getting stuck in that rain. Eventually though, you decide it’s time to get out. You sigh and turn off the water, and you open the shower curtain and lean over to grab the towel. You shake the water off of your feet before stepping onto the bath mat in front of the tub and you get to work drying yourself.

Simon eventually knocks on the door again and opens it, but just enough for him to shove his hand through the crevice. In his grip is a shirt and some sweatpants with drawstrings. “Here you can sleep in my shirt. Your stuff is in the dryer.” His voice is low and muffled, and you smile a bit to yourself as you quickly snatch up the clothes. “Thank you, Simon.” You say with a soft tone, examining the clothes in curiosity. “Of’course,” Simon begins. “I got you set up on the couch, too. You’re welcome to my refrigerator as well.” Your eyebrows raise in surprise because this is such a drastic difference than a few months ago—probably a year ago by now. “Thank you..” You can’t help but repeat yourself, gratitude lacing your voice. He responds with a simple grunt before closing the bathroom door again.

You dry yourself off completely and you slip the shirt on, as well as the sweatpants. You tighten and tie the drawstrings if you need to, and despite these clothes being clean, they smell like Simon one hundred percent. You don’t complain, though; he smells kind of like freshly raked soil mixed with bourbon, as well as something you don’t quite recognize, but you guess is gunpowder. It’s comforting. It’s a main reason why you know Simon is home half the time; if the hallway smells like him, just a bit.

You find your heart skipping a beat and you can’t get the dopey smile off of your face as you hang the damp towel up on the towel rack, unable to stop thinking about Simon’s sudden kindness. You feel kind of special, from him letting you into his apartment all of a sudden. You take a deep breath in the bathroom mirror before opening the bathroom door, preparing yourself mentally on your neighbors couch; the neighbor you admittedly don’t know too well and probably shouldn’t trust so easily, but you do anyway. And it seems like he’s beginning to trust you, too.

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house-of-lovin · 1 year

Text

legally binded - 8

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 8: Beetlejuice and London Blues

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: dual!pov, famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: hey y’all. I’m gonna be taking a break from this series for a bit after I post this. I’m gonna be real busy this summer, so LB updates probably won’t be weekly for a while. thanks for understanding!

Word Count: 8.2k+ (these are getting longer)

“Fuck me.”

A mistake.

You made a mistake.

Was your first thought when you woke up with the sun shining directly into your eyelids; the throbbing pain deep in your skull was the first symptom of your grave oversight.

“Fuck you is right…” A loud voice pierces through the silence in the room and the pounding in your head worsened immediately.

Turning over at a snails pace, you find Link leaning against the doorframe, with a bitter frown on his face.

“What did I do?” You moaned, holding your head in your hands.

“Other than be a massive asshole? Drink yourself stupid.” He says bluntly, walking into the room and placing a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin on the bedside table.

Pushing yourself up, you continue to loudly groan despite the pounding in your skull and desperately reached for the medicine bottle. After popping two in and washing it down it some water, you leaned against the headboard with a heavy sigh.

Being ran over by an 18-wheeler and somehow managing to survive would be a fair comparison to your current condition.

“I don’t remember how I got back.”

“We don’t know either, you just opened the door…”

“Right.” Hazy memories of last night’s escapades we’re starting to come back.

“What the hell, Y/N, we were looking for your ass for almost four hours.” He crossed his arms, staring you down as his nose flared in anger.

“Sorry…” You mumbled, closing your eyes. The familiar feeling of guilt rumbled in your chest the longer you met his judging eyes.

After sneaking off to the bathroom, you knew you had to take the opportunity to escape that after-party. You thought drinking your problems away and partying would help distract you from your argument with Jenna. But your efforts proved fruitless. The longer you stood in that loud room, the more suffocating it felt; Jenna’s words echoing mercilessly in your head.

So you slipped out without letting anyone know. Dumb idea, I know.

You had full intentions of going for a walk to clear your head, thinking of what to say to Jenna and then making your way back to the hotel to wait for her so you could talk, but before that could happen…

“Well, well, well… look who it is.”

Dropping your hand that was holding your phone limply by your side, you perk up. All thoughts of calling an Uber back to the hotel were forgotten as you turned; feeling your blood run cold immediately at the familiar voice.

“Damon.” You greet flatly.

“Aw, come on, that’s how you greet an old friend?” He held a hand to his chest, walking forward. “Vegas was so long ago, don’t you miss my company?”

“Not particularly no.” You cross your arms, standing your ground.

“You don’t mean that, baby…” He stood in your space, leaning into you. You held your head up, not intimidated by his presence.

“What are you even doing here? Last time I checked, you weren’t invited to the Met.” You grit. There’s no way his C-list ass was invited to one of the biggest social events of the year.

“I was someone’s plus one.” He answered, shrugging.

You roll your eyes because of course he wasn't even invited. He was always sliming his way into events.

“Come on, we used to have so much fun…” He leaned closer.

“Get out of my face.” You grit, standing your ground.

“You don’t really blame me for Vegas, do you?” He stepped back, annoyance growing as his brows furrowed.

You bit back a laugh, spatting out. “Of course I do! You had coke on you – snorting that shit in a fucking strip club with me beside you. The hell were you thinking?”

He crossed his arms, anger steadily masking over his features. “You weren’t complaining about wanting to get fucked up before that. Actually, you were the one that begged me to leave L.A.”

You glare at him as you’re reminded of that weekend three months ago. “Clearly that was a mistake. The press thinks it was mine, Damon.”

He shrugged, smirking. “Beats me.”

Your glare hardens as you clenched your jaw. “You’re an asshole.”

“Oh baby, you just found out?” His smug smile widens and you wanted nothing more than to punch it clean off his face.

“Stay the fuck away from me if you know what's good for you.” You bark, eyes never leaving his.

His gaze twinkled in amusement at the challenge, paying no heed to it. Then he leans in close to your ear, whispering. “You’ll be back soon when you realize no one wants you.”

Your heart drops as his words ring in your ears. You keep your face impassive, not giving him the satisfaction of knowing his words affect you.

“Your little PR relationship with Jenna is cute. You guys almost have everyone convinced, but I know the truth. You’ll be back when Jenna realizes that you’re too broken to love.” He taunts, smiling widely.

Your heart thrums so loudly against your chest that it makes your entire body throb in tandem.

“Fuck you.” You shove his chest firmly as he stumbled back a couple steps from the sheer force.

You don’t wait for a response as you leg it down the sidewalk, ignoring people’s questioning looks. You weren’t sure if they recognized you or if they were questioning why you were in a fancy suit on the streets of New York City but you didn’t care either way; just stomping off in no particular direction. Not giving anyone who may have recognized you, time to stop you.

You kept walking even as your legs begged for reprieve, taking sidestreets and alleyways to hide from prying eyes, hiding in the shadows. You lived in the Big Apple for a year for a role and in that time, you had gotten to know the city well; preferring to walk to familiarize yourself with new locations.

“Where the hell were you?” Link questioned. You can hear the agitated tone in his words even as your eyes were closed.

“I went for a walk.”

“You came back drunk.”

“I stopped by the liquor store.”

“You were gone for three hours.”

“It was a big bottle.”

He huffed.

You crack an eyelid open, already noting his firmly-set jaw. “Okay, I’m sorry, truce?”

Even you know when you’re being an asshole. You note the dark circles and heavy bags under his eyes and it reminded you of the first time you came home after meeting Jenna. The moment Link opened the front door, he had the same expression on his face.

His jaw tightly clenched but his brows pulled in a way that showed his concern.

Before you could spew any apology you had saved, he pulled you in for a hug, muttering on about how worried he was about your arrest. It made your throat close up and tears build in your eyes at how distressed he sounded. Even when you’ve fucked up, he was still worried about you.

That familiar pang of guilt comes crawling back the longer he stared at you now with that same look.

Instead, he sighed, dropping his head in surrender and muttering, “truce.”

That makes you open your eyes fully, nodding. “Okay.”

He sat on the foot of the bed, posture more relaxed. “Seriously though, what were you thinking?”

Picking at the loose thread of the duvet, you couldn’t meet his inquiring gaze. “I really did just need some air at first. Then I was gonna go back to the hotel to wait for Jenna, to apologize… but then I saw Damon.”

His sharp intake of breath reaches your ears. “Did you–”

“No!” You were quick to answer. “No… but he was an asshole, said something that pissed me off and I just couldn’t go back to that party or see Jenna. So I kept walking, I think I ended up in Central Park.”

“What did he say?” His nostrils flared.

“Nothing important, I walked away.” You omit.

He conceded but you could see his reluctance anyway.

“And then what — you were walking around, drinking in the middle of Central Park?” He asked bewildered, like you were stupid. Which, hearing it out loud now, is a very stupid decision. It was a miracle you made it back safely.

“Yes…” You muttered, ashamed. “I know I fucked up.”

His laugh is loud and taunting. “Fucked up? We’re way past that. Jenna’s pissed at you and Jake and Sarah found out you two didn’t go to the same after-party. They’re expecting it to be a headline.”

You bang your head against the headboard, ignoring the worsening ache. You deserved it, anyway. “Shit, Jenna… where is she?”

He scoffed, “gone.”

You whipped your head to find his eyes, ignoring the queasiness it caused in your stomach or maybe it was news of Jenna’s departure. “What?”

“She got out of New York first thing in the morning.” He explained.

“Fuck…” You close your eyes again, sliding down the bed. Flashes of your anger bubbling over, reaching a boiling point and exploding on Jenna. You remember your harsh words and the hurt expression that takes over the other actress’ face as you spoke with unabated hatred. “What did I do?”

“Don’t know, I left the room – but whatever you said, it must’ve been pretty bad 'cause it looked like she was about to cry when she came out of your room.” He recounted; not bothering to sugar-coat it. There seems to be nothing and no one that can get to you other than Jenna.

Maybe realizing that you’ve hurt her, will be the wake-up call that you needed.

“I fucked up.” You repeated, staring at the ceiling.

“I know, buddy.” He sighed, patting your leg. “But you’ll fix it. You always do…”

“I don’t know about this one man.”

Telling Jenna that you wanted to end this PR relationship with her? You just wanted to be mean and hurt her back and that makes Jenna right, you are an asshole.

“What did you even say?”

You recounted the anger-filled words that you spewed through your drunken stupor, avoiding Link’s angry expression when you finished.

“Are you fucking serious? How could you say that?”

“It was a mistake… I didn’t mean it.”

“You need to get your head out of your ass and apologize to that girl.” He huffed, getting off the bed. “Get up, our flight leaves in an hour… stupid idiot.” He muttered, walking off as he shook his head in disappointment.

This time, you couldn’t even blame him. You are an idiot.

***

“Where’s Jenna?”

“She’s busy but she’s been briefed, we can start now..” Liv pursed her lips, leaning back in her seat.

The tips of your hands start sweating at her words, not knowing what they could mean.

As soon as you landed back in Los Angeles, you had the day to yourself to recuperate after a long week in New York. You sent the other actress a text before the plane took off, asking if she made it back to L.A. safely but you never got a message back.

You might’ve deserved that one.

There was no other proof of life from the actress other than when you asked if you could pick up your dog from her since she was looking after the pup before the Met. The only response you received was a text from her assistant saying Jenna’s driver would drop him off at your house later in the day.

Again, you might’ve deserved that one.

As promised, her driver pulled up in a sleek blacked-out SUV with a dog cage in hand. Upon releasing the pup, you noted the new toy he refused to let go of.

Other than her team obviously playing the middleman between you and her, the only other sign that she was well was the Instagram post on her account of her night at the Met Gala; a variety by herself, showing off her Thom Browne gown, some at the after-party with Enrique and other celebrities.

You'd be lying if you said you didn’t feel the slight emptiness in your chest that she didn’t post you. In the late hours of your stalking, you failed to realize that she did in fact, post the two of you, just a couple of hours later.

As a solo picture, was the two of you kissing on the red carpet. You don’t know why the black heart emoji captioning the photo sends your own heart to a frenzy. If you stared at the photo long enough, it was almost like you can feel phantom sensations of her lips pressed against your own again.

You’re ashamed to admit how long it took for you to decide on a response before eventually settling on a white heart to comment back.

You thank the heavens that Liv barely sleeps because you got a message from her at that exact moment about a meeting the following morning; distracting you from Jenna and that stupid black heart.

So that’s where you found yourself, in the dark, clutching the armrests of the stiff office chair in nervousness, the longer Liv and Jake waited to explain why you’re here.

“It’s an update about Vegas,” Jake explained, leaning on the desk, and staring down at you.

“What about Vegas?” Your brows furrowed in confusion.

“Sarah found out who leaked the coke…” Liv chimed in. “The source comes from a Twitter account, claims she’s one of the girls in the club, and said she saw you taking a bump, as well. Gossip sites got a hold of it and spread it like wildfire.”

“That’s a lie, I was passed out.” Not the best argument, but it’s the truth.

“She claimed that it came from you.”

“Bullshit!”

“Of course, it’s bullshit. But we’re in damage control now... The police still hasn’t made a comment about pursuing a possible case against you ‘cause there’s nothing there. We’re just dealing with rumours, at this point but I don’t want you to worry about that.” Liv reassured, holding a hand out. She could see the frustration etched on your face.

You rolled your eyes, slumping against the seat. “So, what do we do?”

“The PR with Jenna is going well. It did a good job at covering up headlines about your initial arrest – but now that Vegas headlines are back, we need to work on overtime.”

Immediately, you shake your head, brows furrowing. “I thought the relationship was only meant to last three months?”

It’ll be three months by the end of this week and Jenna has yet to talk to you since your drunken night after the Met Gala.

“Yes… and I also said less the faster people forget your night at the county jail, clearly, they haven’t forgotten.” She raised a brow in challenge, and you opted to bite your tongue 'cause she did say that.

“Even then, how would you get Jenna to agree? She’s not exactly my biggest fan, right now.” You muttered, looking down at your hands. Jenna’s probably rejoicing at the fact that this agreement was almost over. After the disaster that was the Met, she’s probably laughing at the proposition of extending this agreement longer.

“Is that why you two didn’t go to the same after-party?” Jake flicked a brow, more so curious. You’re surprised he doesn’t too mad about it.

“You don’t even wanna know.” You closed your eyes in exhaustion at the thought of that night, missing Liv and Jake’s silent conversation, debating if it was time for a parently intervention. But you caught on to their silence.

“Please don’t lecture me on my dating life,” you grumbled, “it’s the last thing I want to hear.”

“Dating life?” Jake piped up, eyes lighting up.

“Did you and Jenna actually catch feelings?” Liv asked, a small smile on her lips.

“I literally said don’t.” You glared and the bite in your tone seemed to get them to relent; dropping the conversation. “And don‘t say catch feelings, it sounds wrong coming from you.”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that, for your sake.” Liv glares before looking at her business partner.

You don’t comment on the weighted glances they keep sending each other.

“Anyways…” Jake cleared his throat, “Lucky for you, Jenna already signed the updated contract—we just need your signature, that’s why you’re here.”

You to sit up straight, unsure if you heard your manager correctly. “What? She did?”

Maybe she wasn’t laughing at the proposition of extending this agreement. But why would she sign it? After what you said to her in New York, you figured she’d be on her merry way out the door and your life.

Liv reached over to the side, cracking open a thick document, and flipped to a page before sliding it over to you; a pen on top.

Beside Jenna’s ink-printed name on the paper, is the same neat handwritten signature that you noticed all those months ago. Your sight flickers down; the empty line with your name just below waiting to be signed seemed menacing this time. As you continue to scan the page and you settle on a certain line causing your heart to stop momentarily.

“A year?”

Liv nodded, lips thinly pressed. “People are invested. Your names are selling headlines and getting clicks, it’s working. But not well enough to cover Vegas. We need to build you two as a brand, together.”

Suddenly the decision felt weighted.

“A brand?” You drawl, the words feeling wrong on your lips.

Liv sighed, “I know how it sounds… but we need Vegas to go away. After your guys’ appearance at the Met Gala, brands have been calling Jake and Sarah about potential deals featuring you two. You and Jenna sell.”

You don’t answer, electing to look away to ignore their probing eyes.

“There’s talk that they want to exclude you from the Dune 2 press run,” Jake admitted after a beat, his heavy-set eyes staring at you unapologetically.

A knife to the gut is equivalent to how you feel. “What?”

Jake nodded, propping one hand on his desk to hold him up as leaned on it. “I’ve been going back and forth with the producers – reassuring them that you’re not what the press have saying. But like we said, we’re in damage control. SNL, Coachella, the Met Gala, those were good attempts at covering things up to get good press, but it’s not enough.”

Glancing down at the document again, a part of you still hesitates to pick up the pen.

“Did you not hear what I just said?” Jake asked.

“I–I need some time, to think about it.”

“What’s there to think about?” Liv asked, equally confused. “Jenna already signed it.”

“It’s another year, Liv.” You raised your head to meet her eyes, in shock. Ignoring her reassurances. It doesn’t matter if Jenna signed it. There’s no way you’re letting this go on any longer. “That’s a long time.”

Flicking a brow, she answered, “Yes, it’s a long time, but we need to do this. There’s no other way..” She glanced at Jake, standing beside her, sending him a look.

You shake your head. Mind already made up the moment you saw just how much longer this needed to continue.

“Well, find another way. I’m not dragging Jenna into my mess any longer.”

“What?” Jake dropped his crossed arms, watching as you frantically stood from the seat. “You wanna throw away the last three months?”

“Yes.” You stood your ground, crossing your arms.

Liv rolled her eyes, uncrossing her legs as she stands. You track her confusedly before you realize she’s walking off to Jake’s alcohol collection.

“That was a gift, Olivia.” Jake chided, as he watched the woman pour a hefty shot of the brown liquid from an expensive-looking bottle.

You roll your eyes at her dramatics.

“Are we dealing with the same thing right now?” She hissed in pain, placing the shot glass on the table as she gestured to you.

You shake your head, regaining their attention. “I have a career — movies and events lined up. I can’t play someone’s girlfriend for a year on top of that.”

“Y/N, there’s no other way… we’ll find a way to make it work with both your schedules but right now, we need to capitalize on the all of the attention.”

You huffed, annoyed that they were ignoring you. “I don’t care. Find another way. I’m not signing this.” Then you smack a firm hand on the document before turning to walk out of the office.

This has gone on long enough. You refuse to drag Jenna down any more than you already have. She’s better off without you anyway.

***

“I’m coming, I’m coming! Can you wait?!”

With haste, you stumble on your flip-flops when they tangle on your feet as you walked toward your front gate. The buzzing kept ringing out in the dark, quiet air. You desperately wished you bought a house with see-through gates so you could tell off whoever was repeatedly banging on your buzzer.

You lived in a gated neighbourhood, so you weren’t too worried about a random stranger roaming around. You assumed it was just one of your neighbours ringing the bell.

“What?” You yank the door open, stepping out. The street lamps on the sidewalk don’t do well to light the figure standing across from you. But even in the dark, you instantly recognize her smaller stature.

She stepped back as you close the door behind you, now standing on the sidewalk. Your house was situated on a cul-de-sac and rarely anyone roamed the streets at this time.

“What are you doing here?” You squint, walking closer.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” Was her answer, words practically dripping in anger.

You stand straighter at her tone, brows knotting together. “What?”

“Who the hell do you think you are, trying to make decisions for me.” She bit back, face contorting in fury. Glancing down, you note her white-knuckled grip on a manila folder.

“We shouldn’t talk about this here.” You sighed, scanning the street. It was empty and quiet but you never know who was lurking around.

Walking over to the gate, you held it open, “let’s talk inside.”

She stood her ground, feet firmly planted on the concrete. You can see the sharp edges from her jaw clenching even in the poorly-lit street.

“Jenna.” You said knowingly, titling your head to the side.

You hear her huff loudly before stomping past you and walking up the path to your front door. Choosing not to comment on the fact that she’s never been to your house but she’s walking like she has been. Following closely behind, you can’t help but let your eyes wander down, taking note of her outfit.

As always, no matter what she wore, it hung off her expertly, like it was made just for her. You were so distracted looking at her… outfit, that you failed to realize you made it to the front door.

“Are you gonna open the door or what?’ She raised a brow, not commenting on how quickly you averted your eyes as soon as she turned around.

“Yeah…” You muttered, sliding past her to open the double doors.

When you make it to the foyer, Jenna is already confronting you before the door even closes. “Sign the contract.”

“Demanding much?” You raised a brow, shutting the door.

“Sign the damn contract, Y/N.” She said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

“What are you doing, Jenna? This is your chance to get out of this.” You wave a hand, gesturing between you and her.

She laughed unamused, “Get out of this? If you think I can leave this PR relationship in the middle of rumours of your arrest and there’s a way I won’t be painted like the bad guy, then you’re really dumber than I thought.”

You clenched your jaw, not answering.

“Sign the contract.” She repeated, taking your silence as a win.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I’m not dragging you into this mess.”

She laughed again, this time it was plainly mocking. “I’m already in this mess. I’m deep in it if you haven’t noticed. Maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass every once in a while you’d realize everything we do is attached to each other, now. There isn’t anywhere I can go without being asked about you or our relationship. So no, I’m not letting you make this decision for me. ‘Cause I’m making it for us.”

You stared at her. The fury in her eyes and tension in her shoulders were noticeable even from where you stood; it didn’t aid in easing the mellowing guilt in your chest.

“It’s all from a business standpoint, don’t look into it.” She glared.

This time, you were certain you deserved that.

Jenna walked up to you, pushing the manila folder against your chest aggressively. You meet her narrowed eyes staring up at you. “Sign it.”

Then she walked off, slamming the door shut behind her.

***

“How’s the missus?”

“How’s yours?” Tom joked back, handing over a steaming coffee cup. Graciously grabbing it with both hands, you eagerly sip on the bitter drink as the London native settles on the patio chair across you.

Although it was considered a warm day in London, there was a cool breeze that wafted through the air penetrating through your jacket.

“Very funny.” You muttered, ignoring the heat rising up your neck.

“I’m just fuckin with ya.” He chuckled, cheeks crinkling in amusement.

“She actually has day off from filming, right now.” You placed the paper cup on the table, fiddling with the cover. “So, at home.”

“Beetlejuice 2, right? Insane gig, you must be proud of her.” He smiled, gauging your reaction.

The smile that creeps up on your face is genuine, “Yeah, I am. They just started filming last week, I know she’s killing it.”

“Have you visited her on set?”

You blushed, not even considering that a possibility. “No uh– not yet.”

“Either way, it’s great. I’m happy for you guys.” He said sincerely, but he sees through you. “But, what’s with the long face?”

You sighed, leaning back. Taking a moment to glance around at the quiet street, it was still early morning and the hustle of the Brit actor’s town was still non-existent.

You’ve known Tom for a long time, meeting him during your stint in the MCU. He’s become a brother of sorts, as you two navigated the Marvel fame throughout all those years. As soon as you landed in England, he was the first person you texted.

“It’s complicated– with Jenna.”

“How so?” He flicked a brow, sipping on his drink.

That prompted a long retelling of how you met the other actress (definitely breaching your contract, but hey, you’ll send over an NDA) the events of SNL, Coachella, the Met, and recently, how you’ve been forced to follow her to London as she films Beetlejuice 2 to support her as she films the follow-up to the iconic horror-classic.

“Wow…” His brows raised in shock, mouth hanging wide open.

You raise an expectant brow. “Well? What should I do?”

“You asking me?” He pointed to himself and if he wasn’t one of your closest friends and Hollywood’s biggest faces, you’d punched him straight.

You huffed, brows knitting together. “Yes, I’m asking you. You and Z are the epitome of a healthy relationship. Tell me what to do.”

Tom rubbed his stubbled jaw, relaxing in his seat as he thought of what to say. “It’s not that easy. Z and I actually want to make it work.”

“What does that mean?” You sat up straighter, a bit defensive.

“Mate, throughout that whole story, you kept talking about this relationship like it was the worst thing in the world. Making up excuses for your actions as to why you can’t open up to Jenna— running away. You guys haven’t talked about anything. She doesn’t know about Vegas, or how you felt about Coachella… You also have yet to apologize for how you disappeared for hours and then acted like an asshole in New York. You just followed her to London, expecting to live under one roof like everything’s alright. It’s a bomb waiting to explode.”

You… couldn’t say anything to that.

He bit back a laugh at your wide-eyed reaction, “Listen, I’m no expert on relationships – I’m still trying to find my way. But one thing I’ve learned, is that when two people want to make it work they will, but that only happens with honest communication. She doesn’t even know how you feel about her… maybe start there.”

“What if it’s too late? What if too much has happened for us to fix things?” You questioned, meeting his kind eyes and allowing him to see the vulnerability in yours.

“Then you start over, build from the ground up.”

You knew his relationship has also seen its fair share of rocky moments. Noting his slew of ex-girlfriends before eventually finding his way back to the Euphoria actress. That made you feel a bit better about your situation.

“Let me ask you this,” He piques up, leaning his elbows on the table, fingers cupping his chin, “what are you so scared of?”

You already know your answer. “I don't want to break her heart.”

He hums, pondering your response, “It sounds like you don’t want her to break yours, mate.”

This time, you’re the one humming as a response, unsure of what to say because he’s right. There’s never been anyone you’ve allowed to get close enough to even break your heart.

The thought that someone could take your heart and stomp on it whenever they wanted is terrifying concept.

“Look,” he speaks up when you don’t answer, “it sounds like you really care about Jenna. I’ve seen pictures of you two, even if you say it’s just for the cameras. I’ve never seen you look so smitten. Talk to her, you never know what could happen if you stop getting in your own way.”

You flushed, choosing not to comment on his words. “Ho-how you’d see the pictures?”

“You two are everywhere and Z sent me that picture of the two of you with her niece. Very cute,” He winked cheekily.

You rolled your eyes. “Alright, I get it. I’ll talk to her.”

“Finally, Link owes me a drink.” He settled back into his seat, sipping on his drink.

You rolled your eyes, shooting the Brit a glare. “You two are annoying.”

But he just chuckled, trying to hide it with a sip of coffee before speaking up again. “Hey, once you get settled here in London, why don’t you come to Monaco with me for the F1 Grand Prix?”

Your gaped at the offer, “You serious?”

“Yeah, it’ll do you some good. Forget about Vegas, the press and Jenna, for a bit?” He leaned in, raising his brows at the proposition, a grin smacked on his teeth. “Me, you, a couple of friends and some cars. What’d ya say?”

You’d take a moment to think over your options but you were already sold.

“I’m in.” You grinned.

***

It’s been three days since you landed in London, following Jenna across the Atlantic Ocean as she filmed Beetlejuice 2. You're still trying to adjust to the time zone difference but that’s really the least of your worries because it’s been terribly awkward living under the same roof as Jenna.

You were seriously considering paying for a hotel during your time here but maybe spending thousands of dollars, or pounds… on a hotel room every night in London for a month straight isn’t the best business decision.

Clearly Jake and Sarah agreed because when you called Jake he said and I quote ‘there’s no other way for you to live anywhere other than with Jenna’ — yeah right.

At least she’s speaking to you — which is a step. Jenna had to fly over to the UK a week earlier and in that time it seems the tensions between you have simmered down. But, her responses are restrained, overly polite, like she didn’t know how to talk to you anymore.

You ignored how your heart clenched at her snipped, cold responses.

“Hi,” She greeted, as soon as you made it down the hallway then living room. Eyes tracking your every move as you shuffled to the kitchen, placing a paper bag atop the counter.

“Hey, how was your day off?” You greeted, glancing up at her momentarily.

“It was alright, I just walked around; got to know the neighbourhood. What about you? You were gone by the time I woke up...” Jenna asked, hating how you averted your gaze from her so quickly these days.

“I met up with a friend over at Kingston.” You replied, opening the fridge to grab a bottle of water.

“Tom Holland?”

Turning, surprised she knew that but she answered before you could even ask. “I saw some pictures on Instagram.”

You purse your lips, nodding; not really surprised the paparazzi discovered your outing with the Brit actor. The press never sleeps, even when you’re in another continent. “Oh, I see… well, he says hello, by the way.”

Jenna perked up surprised. “He did?”

You nodded but said nothing else.

“You were gone for a while, though.” She added.

“We also grabbed dinner.” You’d usually make an annoyed quip about the sudden interrogation but at this point, you were just glad she’s talking to you.

“Did you have fun?” She asked. You don’t miss the slow, drawled tone that accompanied the question like she was unsure if she should keep the conversation afloat or let it fizzle out.

“Yes, I did actually.” You find yourself saying. A day away from the tenseness in this apartment was a nice change.

Jenna wanted to interject and ask why you looked peeved in the photos and videos she saw. She’s familiar with the tightly wound brows and flared nostrils that you create when you’ve gone off on a rant.

She couldn’t help but wonder what you two were talking about. Instead, she kept her mouth shut and nodded. “That’s nice...”

Sighing under your breath, you try not to make a reaction and set off an argument with the other actress but the awkward responses were getting old and it’s only your third day here. There’s no way you can handle walking on eggshells around her for another minute.

Shufflling closer to the couch where Jenna sat; gaze still tracking you. You send her a timid smile, placing a paper cup atop the table across from her.

A peace offering, of sorts.

“The coffee shop I was at this morning is known for their hot chocolate, so I got you one on the way back.”

She blinked, evidently surprised at the gesture. You take her silence as a chance to sit on the armchair just across.

“Call it a truce?” You added, sending a sheepish smile.

Other than the episode of Breaking Bad playing in the background, it’s dead silent in the apartment.

You didn’t comment on how she rewatching an episode that the two of you had already seen.

Jenna stayed mute, just watching you but reached out for the hot chocolate on the coffee table then leaned back on the couch, pulling her legs up to her chest.

You considered it as an olive branch.

“I’m sorry for how I acted in New York — I know I worried you.” You gauged her reaction but she averted her gaze to the coffee table, on the cup she was fiddling with — anywhere but your own eyes. “You’re right, I am an asshole and I am so, so sorry Jenna. How can I make it up to you?”

Your question finally has her meeting your eyes, voice cold. “You can’t.”

You sighed, “come on, Jen. There has to be something.”

“You can’t because I’m not ready to forgive you yet.” She reiterated and you slumped back against the cushion, defeated.

“Okay…” You accepted. With a slow nod, you stood up about to walk off to your bedroom and lock yourself inside for the remainder of the night.

Maybe you can try again tomorrow.

Jenna huffed, “where are you going?”

Spinning around, confused; you pointed to the closed door down the hall, “my room? I’m giving you space.”

She stands up, agitation etched on her face and placed the paper cup on the wooden table with force. “No, Y/N, that’s not what I want.”

You flick a brow up, still bemused at her sudden hostility. “So, then what do you want, Jenna?”

Probably like her, you were growing tired of the constant fighting and miscommunication that seems to occur every time a serious talk needed to happen.

Her forehead created lines as she raised both brows, “to talk! I want you to talk to me. Open up to me — I never know what you’re actually thinking. You say I’m leading you on but do you even realize that you're doing the same to me?!”

She finished off with a sharp breath and widened eyes like she didn’t expect to reveal all of that.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to remember the countless advice you’ve been receiving from everyone. Reminding yourself of the unpleasantness that took home in your chest from being away and fighting with the other actress. You didn’t enjoy receiving the cold shoulder from her.

“That’s not what I was trying to do, I swear.” You tried to say calmly despite your heart hammering widly in your chest; fight or flight instincts begging for you to flee.

She studied you with a cautious gaze, you don’t blame her for not believing you. “I like you, a lot – more than I ever expected.”

Your confession has her brows raising in surprise. Not expecting you to say that. You take her stunned silence as a chance to keep talking.

“I think we both can say that the way we came into each other’s life was less than… conventional.” You chuckled to fill the tense silence, “I’m not exactly sure when or where, but along the way that I started to fall for you.”

You sit back down on the armchair prompting Jenna to perch on the couch, across from you. The space in between you and the other actress feels like a million miles away. Feeling like your nerves are shot from her indecipherable look, alone.

“I really care about you, Jenna and you’re right. I haven’t been honest with you, about anything but especially over Vegas and that’s not fair… so I guess I should start there.”

Jenna can’t even hide her surprise that you’re actually opening up. Never mind confessing how you feel about her. Instead, she keeps her mouth shut and allows you to speak.

“Vegas was just a bad decision. I think I was overwhelmed— I had a busy year last year and nothing was letting up. I begged this… friend that I had to skip town, go to Vegas and fuck shit up. Well, we did. When the cops got to the strip club, I was passed out drunk and Damon—uh the friend, was doing coke beside me. Uh, I'm not really sure what happened next but they took me to jail and next thing I knew I was waking up to someone telling me I’d been bailed out… Jake said they tried to pick us both up for drug charges but when they realized it wasn’t mine, they charged me with a drunken disorderly, instead.”

Somewhere along the way, your gaze dropped in shame, unable to match Jenna’s intense stare. You felt mortified as you recounted the tales of your criminal escapade. It’s not a night you choose to relive or retell for a reason, and definitely not a story that you want Jenna knowing.

But she’s right, she is as deep in this mess as you are. She deserves to know the whole story if you two had to keep this PR stunt going for another year. And if this relationship had any real chance of surviving.

“I heard about it… when it first happened. Sarah was the one to tell me about the coke, that’s why I called you a drug user when we first met…” Jenna admitted, “she said it wasn’t yours but then that headline claimed it was dropped before the Met and you didn’t say anything—“

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have waited until the last minute to say something.” You hesitated. You’ve never done well at being confronted with the repercussions of your bad decisions, much less having to explain them. “I was scared—“

Your voice cracked, cursing inwardly you fought through the unpleasant thickness in your throat. That makes Jenna meet your eyes, watching as you blinked away the tears beginning to cloud your vision.

Her gaze softens… never seeing you so vulnerable. Continuing to observe you for a few seconds before giving in, “come here.”

You look up at her extended hand and how she patted the open space next to her. Your legs work against you, already standing to walk over and sit.

When you do, she’s turning her whole body to find your eyes. This time her body language is open and inviting rather than the reserved, tense stature you’ve grown accustomed to.

“Sorry…” You wiped the corner of your eyes.

She shakes her head, “don’t be.”

You clear your throat, forcing yourself to meet her kind eyes. She waits for you to patiently speak.

“I was scared.” You repeated.

“I was scared of my feelings for you. That week at your parents' house… was the first time I felt welcomed in a long time. It’s just been me and Link and L.A. for so long, I-I forgot what it was like to have a village around you. I’m sorry if your family sees me differently now.”

You felt a pang of shame wash over you. But Jenna’s shaking her head, scooting closer — knees touching. “They don’t. My dad and sisters are a little mad but they actually pushed me to talk to you — even when I was mad. They know how the media loves to twist things, they’ve seen it with me, so they try to not pay attention to it.”

She doesn’t know how you did it but you have somehow won her overprotective family over.

Jenna’s week away from you was needed yet miserable at the same time. After your drunken rant, Jenna was the one who found herself running away. Knowing that this time, she was the one who couldn’t be around you.

Your words hurt, for lack of a better explanation. The way you spewed them so easily, so surely, was a memory that she replayed over and over again while she was giving you the cold shoulder.

It almost made her give in… to cut the tie with you. Give you what you want — be left alone. But then she remembers her conversation with Hailee, with her mom, with her sisters, with everybody who’s been around you.

It’s comical how everyone can see it but you two.

As if it were written in the stars, a divine intervention seems to always save you two just before the brink of no return. When Jenna found out you were being forced to live with her in London for a month while she films Beetlejuice 2 and you — well she doesn’t know what work you’re doing here yet because she can’t get herself to say more than two words to you — she didn’t know if she should be happy or dreading it.

But then you landed and it’s been a tense weekend since your arrival. You and her seem to share the sentiment of not knowing how to act or speak around the other. Jenna started leaning on dreading it the longer the awkward conversations occurred.

But now you’re here, opening up.

“Are you sure?” You asked a bit croaky; throat a bit tight.

You stare into the other actress’ dark orbs and for the first time ever, it feels like you can finally read her. Hesitantly, she reached out to grasp your hand, firmly clasping it. “I’m sure.”

Clenching your jaw, you try to keep the clouding in your vision at a minimum. Inhaling a sharp stuttered breath, you nodded, “g-good.”

“I’m sorry for how I’ve handled everything since meeting you. It was a lot… dealing with the hate, the arrest and then suddenly realizing how I feel about you. So I ran — like I always do, and that makes me an asshole ‘cause I hurt you. I can deal with everyone being angry with me, I'm used to it. But I can’t stand it coming from you… So you can be mad, but I won’t stop trying to make it up to you.”

Jenna sees nothing but honesty in your fierce, unblinking gaze. It has her heart thudding rudely in her rib cage. She blinked, trying to control her wavering voice, “You’re right… you never talked about Vegas until the last minute and that wasn’t fair of you. But I also never asked you about it either, even though I knew some of the story. I thought we’d do this PR stunt and then go on with our lives….”

You sniffled, eyes feeling scratchy as you listened to her side. You couldn’t keep the stray tear that ran down your cheek at bay. Looking down, you missed Jenna’s softening eyes.

Moving to wipe away the tear, embarrassment ran through you instantly. You tried to pull away from Jenna’s grasp to wipe it but she grabbed it back, tightening her grip. Then she bring her free hand up, swiping the wetness away with a gentle touch that you didn’t feel deserving of.

She squeezed your hand, as she feels you freeze at her ministrations. Your cheek burns against her soft palm. “But, then you met my family and spent time with us and… suddenly you weren’t so bad. Y/N, I like you too.”

This felt like a breakthrough or a light at the very end of a long, dark tunnel in your relationship.

“So do I.” You repeated timidly, allowing your cheek to rest against her steady hand. Granting the grounding touch despite your racing nerves.

“I’m sorry about what I said in New York,” she swipes her thumb across your cheek, averting her eyes to glance at her actions. You watch her as she does so.

“You're not an asshole. You’re actually one of the sweetest people I’ve ever met… when you want to be.” Her eyes flicker back to you, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as she gauges your reaction. You couldn’t help the laugh that escapes; easing the slight tension that’s built in the room. “I was just so angry about being left out that I decided to lash out at you. I’m sorry too, I didn’t mean any of it.”

“I forgive you.” You decided to be brave and placed a reassuring hand on her knee. Jenna watches your eyes, not saying anything. Only removing her hand from your cheek to brush some hair away from your sight. Then she drops her palm to rest atop your still-conjoined hands.

“I really, really like you.” She confesses just above a whisper.

“So do I.” You chimed in quickly. She sends you an amused smile before clearing her throat. That’s when you realized it, “but I’m sensing a but...”

You watch as her grin contorts sadly, as she sighed heavily, “it’s not the right time.”

Feeling a pang of disappointment, you nodded nevertheless, averting your eyes. “Oh.”

If somehow there was space between the two of you, there certainly isn’t any, now, as she moved closer, feeling like skin pressing against one another is the only thing that can ground the younger actress.

“I feel like we went from hating each other to being thrown in New York – SNL.” Jenna tilts her head down, hoping to meet your gaze again, it proves fruitful when she grabs your glance. “Us.. in that dressing room, I know you felt it too.”

Breathing out carefully, you confessed. “I did.”

Jenna sent you a pleased smile, “Then you left for Coachella and I was mad at you again… I even made your driver take you to my parents just so I could see you again cause even when I was mad – I couldn’t stop thinking about almost kissing you.”

Your heart thumped as she confessed everything.

“My mom set us up with the single bed thing, though.” Jenna laughed as joined. The thought of her family secretly rooting for you two had your stomach in a twist. “The way you were with my family that week… I don’t know. I started seeing you differently and I couldn’t help but kiss you before your performance…”

“I wasn’t complaining.” You shook your head.

“Shut up.” She smacked your arm, making you smile. “We skipped so many steps and just jumped into the relationship part.”

“Yeah… we did.”

“I want to make this work but I think—“

“I got a lot of shit to figure out.” You chuckled, cutting her off.

“We got a lot of shit to figure out.” She corrected. “And in between filming Beetlejuice–”

“I understand, Jen.” You squeezed her hand.

“I need some time, to figure all of this out because I wanna do it right – with you.” Her voice drops to a whisper. You try to disregard how her gaze fell lower, finding your lips.

Mentally wishing the other actress can’t hear how loudly your heart is thumping.

“I’ll be here waiting.”

It wasn’t the conclusion you expected but it felt like a step in the right decision. She’s right, there is a lot that you two need to figure out. Separately and together. Her eyes snap back to you, looking relieved, like it was exactly what she needed to hear.

“I’m not saying I’m not open to never, possibly– you know.” Jenna blushed, as she stumbled over her words. “But I’d like us to be friends first, get to know each other before we pursue that. I-Is that okay?”

You felt bolder at her confession, finally knowing how she feels about you. Bringing your entwined hands up, you place a delicate kiss on her the top of her hands. “That’s okay, I’ll be here when you’re ready for me.”

“You’re already breaking the rules…” She jokes but her tone sounded wispy as she stared down at the way your lips ghosted over her hand.

You flick a brow, “we have rules?”

She sends you a pointed look, calling your name flatly.

Rolling your eyes, you lean back, dropping her hands. “Right, sorry… friends definitely don’t do that.”

“You’re an idiot.” You didn’t know an insult could sound better than any piece of music you’ve ever listened to. She hasn’t called you that since Coachella. You think, the term of endearment is starting to grow on you, having missed her reciprocated banter more than anything.

“Yeah… I am.” You respond, fondly memorizing every speckle in her kind, dark orbs staring back into yours. It sends a shiver down your spine.

How could you ever think of letting her go?

***

it only took eight fucking chapters but I did say slow burn…😭

***

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#legally binded #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega #wednesday netflix

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impishjesters · 8 months

Text

Aggression Distraction

warning(s): canonical character..death? (it's Kaufmo), nondescript type of panic/anxiety attack (honestly the whole thing glosses over exactly what type of mental state you are in, just that you aren't doing so hot after that experience), cursing, minor suggestive content note(s): This can be read stand-alone but goes in hand with my previous post about Jax with a partner (platonic or romantic) who suffers from depression/suicidal tendencies. Can be read as platonic or romantic but written with more romantic intention in mind, consider it like pre-dating romantics or whatever. A/N: It's worth mentioning that Jax's behavior is a little back and forth, which is intentional. This stuff is new territory for him, but you matter to him so he's trying to be a rock for you, he's just gonna be a little shit while doing it though. ♥ AO3 version

With the latest addition of Pomni and the recent departure of Kaufmo, things had taken a slight turn from the usual day-to-day. You weren’t particularly close to Kaufmo, but to see him abstracted like that? Someone you knew, for god knows how long to just..stop existing like that?

It was horrifying.

As nonchalant as Jax had been over the whole thing like he’d seen it a million times, it had yet to leave your brain. Even days later. Days? It’s still hard to tell the passing of time.

Jax had taken notice when your gaze lingered on Kaufmo’s old room, the large red ‘X’ over his face. Every time he’d swing by your room to pick you up or drop you off he’d catch you staring, and he knew it wasn’t a good thing. Sure, nobody really liked Kaufmo, and you knew him for an even shorter time than them, but he had an inkling what had you so..distracted for a better term.

The first day or two after the events left everyone a little thrown off. Pomni stuck by Ragatha like a little duckling, Gangle had taken to trying to fix her comedy mask, Zooble did whatever Zooble does, and Kinger? Yeah, nobody cared what he did. But you? You distanced yourself or tried to at least, Jax was never far behind.

It was sweet really, he’s still getting the hang of this whole situation the two of you got going on and it’s been going on for a while. Honestly? It’s almost scary how well he knows you and is able to silently confront you without you realizing something’s even wrong, like some weird sniffer dog.

The thought makes you giggle.

Jax’s head lifts and his gaze falls to you with a brow raised, it’s not the first time you’ve randomly giggled but usually there’s a reason, generally something he did. And he wasn’t doing shit worth giggling over. Waving him off that it’s nothing he shrugs it off and goes back to his little task that his torso is blocking.

To be honest, you aren’t even sure what he’s doing anymore, he kinda just showed up and said “I need my favourite doll for this new little prank, so get off your butt and come to my room.” And then proceeded to drag you off your bed and over his shoulder like a sack of rice into his room.

A prank that he has still yet to tell you if there even is one.

During the time spent together, there’s something you’ve managed to pick up in the way he always goes with the crowd. Sure there are times he’s alone, but it’s different, it’s like he wants to be alone compared to the times he seemed to be following others around simply because he didn’t want to be by himself. It was something you yourself used to do after all. Hanging out with people you didn’t really care about simply so you weren’t completely alone.

Now if you tried to confront him on this little theory, he’d no doubt make some comment about how he’s not sure if it’s sweet or creepy that you’re staring at him so intently. Then immediately follow up with some spiel about how he can’t watch funny stuff happen to others if he’s alone. “Think of all the funny shit I’d miss!” Or whatever.

“Are you ever going to tell me what this latest ‘prank’ is?”

“Mmm..” he hums as if debating, but it doesn’t take a genius to tell you it’ll be a—“nope!” Called it.

You wanna call him out that there isn’t even a prank, he’s not even doing anything other than sitting there polishing a…bowling ball? You sit up from your spot on his bed confused. “Is that.. the bowling ball from—”

“What you think I went back down to that creepy place just for this exact bowling ball?” he scoffs, this place has plenty of the damn things he doesn’t need that one.

As tempting as you wanna say yes, you know just how lazy and manipulative he can be. “You? No. Making someone else fetch it with some excuse about how it’s got meaning and worth to you? Now that I can see.”

His eyes squint as he throws a grin over his shoulder at you, one that looks almost painful if not for the fact that he’s almost always grinning.

“You know me too well sugar,” he turns to face you, bowling ball balancing in his hand like it weighs nothing to him, “but I hate to break it to you. This really is just a different bowling ball, but now you got me wanting to send Gangle down to see if she’ll actually do it.”

“Behave.” You playfully chide. It’d be hypocritical to say “poor Gangle” after all, you’ve also sent her on a wild goose chase once or twice, even if you felt a tad guilty later on.

He scoffs and places a gloved hand on his chest in mock offense. “I always behave. I’m the textbook definition of the word gentleman.”

“Oh yeah? In what book?” Slipping off his bed, you walk over to him and reach out to the bowling ball only for him to yank it out of reach. Even sitting the bastard has enough reach to keep anything away from you.

Jax waves his arm about every time you try to reach for the ball, there’s no real reason to keep it from you, he’s just fucking around at this point. Plus this little endeavor has kept you distracted and him mildly entertained. “Oh, now that’s just rude doll, have a heart.” You stop trying to get the ball and he waggles it at you like he’s trying to tempt an animal. “You don’t think I’m a gentleman?”

“A man? Yes.” You scoff and push the ball out of your face. “Gentle? Only when you want to be.”

He hisses and tosses the ball aside letting it roll away, no longer finding it fun. “So harsh, you really do wound me.”

You flinch at the loud thud, unsurprising at the lack of dent the ball should have created under normal circumstances. “Oh bite me.”

“Is that an invitation?” His shit-eating grin nearly splits his face in two, it’s a shame the others aren’t around, he loves seeing their reactions when the two of you banter like this.

Like an old married couple.

You roll your eyes and step into his personal bubble, one of his ears twitches out of habit and his shoulders tense but they gradually relax as you get yourself situated on his lap.

It takes everything in him not to spit out something insultingly sweet, he’s heavily aware of your mental state right now and that wouldn’t help. Though he really wants to joke about how this definitely seems like an invitation seeing as how you’ve walked into his bubble and made yourself at home on his lap. Maybe later.

Silence falls between the two of you, huddled up against him with your face buried into his chest. He pulls the blanket off his bed and drapes it around you, it’s not cold per say, but you had voiced once that you still liked the habit of curling up into a blanket. Specifically how you were a fan of blanket sushi? Much to his original confusion.

“You know I’ve seen some pretty gross things wrapped in seaweed, you by far are the grossest sushi-filling doll.”

To which your immediate reaction was to question whether or not he’d still try and eat you. That was definitely not something he thought would leave your mouth. Luckily his quick tongue bit back something along the lines of “Not while the playschool toys are around baby”.

Jax placed one hand on your back applying light pressure while rubbing small circles, the other falling loosely to rest on your lower back. Your arms tightened around him and he gave you a squeeze back, when you got too embarrassed early on to keep asking for him to squeeze you the two of you settled on this unspoken method of asking. And it wasn’t always limited to full-body squeezing either, you’d squeeze his hand, arm, or leg and he’d squeeze back.

The longer the silence went the more his irritation grew, not at you though, just overall irritation at the silence, at seeing you like this. Kaufmo’s abstraction itself wasn’t what had you like this, he knew you thought of it more like Kaufmo dying. Which, who’s to say that you weren’t wrong for thinking that? That thing wasn’t Kaufmo, and now he’s in the cellar doing whatever it is abstracted things do. If Caine couldn’t fix them they might as well be considered dead.

The topic of death and dying almost never came up in day-to-day conversation, maybe a joke here or there but nothing like this. And you were doing so well too.

If he had the ability to fall asleep he would’ve, not that it wasn’t cozy and domestic as shit being all huddled up with you, but he was getting bored. His leg began to wiggle, lightly bouncing you in the process, something you recognized as him being antsy and an unintentional aid in soothing you.

Another squeeze to the lilac torso resulted in another returned squeeze, except unlike the first time, the grip didn’t loosen. It wasn’t suffocating but grounding, the hand on your back stopped moving, and both hands were glued to your back to apply pressure like a weighted blanket. If asked, Jax would probably lay himself on you like an actual weighted blanket—but part of you felt like he’d enjoy that too much and force you into some shitty deal to get him off of you.

The thought sparked a tiny giggle, one that didn’t go unnoticed by Jax. What the fuck were you giggling about? Meanwhile, his ass is going numb (it’s not) sitting here holding you like he’s trying to wrestle a balloon and not pop it. Mood swings aside he’s grateful for the sound, it’s not much but it shows him you were coming out of it. Especially when the giggling starts to pick back up.

“What’s so funny you little brat? Finally gone bonkers?” It’s harsh but there’s a fondness in his tone that only causes you to giggle harder. The lost grin slowly returns to his face and he purposely jostles his leg harder now, bouncing you more chaotically.

The giggle turns into a full-on laugh and he can’t help but find himself grinning more at the sound. “Okay, okay! Enough jostling, I’ll lose more brain cells if you keep it up.”

“Oh, you still have those?” He chuckles. “Here lemme just.. shake those loose too.” Both of his legs wiggle, jostling you back and forth like a boat would, his arms caging you in so you don’t actually go flying.

You let out a squeal following more giggles and hold tightly to his neck until he comes to an abrupt stop. “Jeez, that’s a real workout on the legs..” he mumbles, letting out a little exhausted sigh.

“Hey you did that all on your own, you have only yourself to blame.” Your grip doesn’t leave him in its entirety as you shift on his lap turning sideways, he loosens his grip and grumbles out a “watch it” until you settle down.

After making grabby hands at the arm not trapped behind you he rolls his eyes and relents, giving you his newly free hand. It’s obvious that Jax is pushing his limit at both sitting still and being this vulnerable, and you could keep going on and just soak up the affection full well knowing he won’t actually blow up at you. The others however will pay the price of his pent-up aggression. Perhaps you could lessen that by…

You give his palm a few gentle prods with your thumbs like it’s a squish toy before bringing it to your face, moving it in such a way that allows him to take your jaw and squish your cheeks between his thumb and fingers.

And oh boy does he squish, a bit too roughly but it’s not unbearable as he moves your head side to side. He knows what you doing, letting him have some playful aggression with you to lessen what he’ll put the others through.

You’ve done it before but it rarely does much, he’ll play nice when you’re around then subject the others to his full bull shittery when you’re gone. It does give him a good chance to just fuck with you and squish those cheeks and rattle you around, you’re at his mercy and you happen to make some particularly cute little noises after all. It’s a nice and rare chance to soak up being able to have your face in his hand without him having to subject himself to any embarrassing vulnerable shit of outright asking to touch your face in such a.. intimate-like gesture.

His internal struggles are lost on you though, simply content on his lap, in his arms letting him squish and waggle your head around. You silently count down the minutes, or guesstimate the minutes until he’s had enough and lets you go. At least this time he has the decency to help you stand versus shoving you off his lap and onto the floor.

Jax brushes the imaginary dust from his clothes and puts a hand on his hip, gesturing the free hand towards you. “We done here babe?”

You nod, rocking back and forth before shaking your head. “Lean over real quick.”

He rolls his eyes and groans but does as asked, leaning over to be on your level. Before he can ask why he’s breaking his back you lean up and press a quick kiss to the side of his mouth before pulling away and racing out of his bedroom.

The grin slips for a split second while he processes that you literally had him lean down, just to kiss him and then bolt. That face-splitting grin returns as he strolls out of his room just to see you at the end of the hall giggling like a maniac.

“You know what? I’ll give you a head start, better hope I don’t catch you!”

You bolt off with a squeal and he chuckles, maybe when he catches you he’ll just settle all that pent-up aggression toward you—he’s long overdue for an intense tease session after all.

#tadc #the amazing digital circus x reader #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus #jax x reader #jax

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readychilledwine · 4 months

Text

Bound by Fate pt 7

Summary - When Kaylee Archeron meets Azriel, her world turns upside down. Between balancing her trauma, new powers, a mating bond, and war looming over her new home, Kaylee learns everything is not as little as it once seemed.

Warnings - trauma response (shutting down and disassociation), Eris being an ass for the purpose of ✨️storyline✨️, desperation and angst on Azriel's end, possessiveness, some drived dialog/timeline changes, because ✨️fanfiction storyline/author got two events backwards ✨️, some angst

A/N - So, i realized as I was rereading this and the previous part, I got the meeting with Eris and Lucien going to find Vassa reversed on my timeline sheet. Excuse my mess up. I'll do a little Sarah style retcon to correct it. I thought about Eris sneaking her to the High Lord's meeting and rewriting this completely, but that would have been nearly impossible with Beron.

Alsp, Kaylee and Azriel will get a real reunion next time. And for those of you who like when men crawl and take accountability. It's for you 💙

Series Masterlist

Azriel Masterlist

The tension in the room was thick. Eris walked Kaylee to a waiting Azriel. “Safe and home, as promised, Shadowsinger.”

Azriel took her with shaking hands, moving her to stand in front of him with a tight grip on her hips.

Kaylee watched as the blonde male in the room began to smirk. “She looks lovely in my dear Morrigan's dress.”

Eris hummed in response. “She looks lovely in many things I presume.” Azriel's grip tightened and he took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure.

Every fiber of his being, every primal instinct was begging him, no, yelling and screaming for him to slam Kaylee down on the table, fucking her in front of everyone in the damned room to mark her as his territory.

A soft purr came into Kaylee’s mind as her eyes found the floor. Did you fuck him?

No. He wanted to, but it didn't go that far.

Rhys, to his own surprise, maintained his composure as Eris and Keir spoke to each other. Did he tell you whose dress that was?

No, Kaylee answered again. He said it had been sitting in the Forest House.

Azriel is going to murder him. Calm your mate. Rhys left her mind before turning to Keir and Eris, beginning whatever meeting they had planned. Kaylee stroked the bond, gently and testing, trying to evade her mate's anger, while also not sending him hers.

Azriel's grip loosened, one arm wrapping her hips and the other coming to her shoulders. He was holding her tightly against him, the scent of cedar and chilled air filling her lungs, intoxicating her into a deep sense of weightlessness and peace, allowing her to zone out of whatever political mess Rhysand and Feyre were dealing with.

He tugged the bond tight, ensuring the scent of it hit the air before resting his chin on your head.

Eris's eyes flicked your way, pulling another growl from deep inside of Azriel. The heir smirked before agreeing to whatever conditions Keir and Rhys had laid before him.

Kaylee distracted herself with Azriel's hands, the slow realization that the dress she was wearing belonged to Mor had set in. Meaning this male, the male whose arms she had slept in, who she had allowed to touch her, was Mor's ex fiancé. The one who had left her dear friend for dead.

Then, slow realization Eris was not Azriel's friend - not her friend - set in.

The slow realization he had used her set in.

“You look well, Mor.” Kaylee didn't miss the look in his eyes, that cold taunting distance. Only she didn't know who he was taunting. Mor appeared repulsed by his being here, hurt maybe, but would not take his bait.

“You don’t speak to her,” Azriel said softly. Eris looked at Kaylee as if he had been right about something. “I see you’re still holding a grudge. I imagine seeing your little mate in that dress and smelling like my bed makes it worse, doesn't it?”

Kaylee whimpered as Azriel's grip on her tightened. He was holding her so close to his chest it was no wonder they weren't one or that she could breathe.

“This arrangement, Eris,” Rhys said, “relies solely upon you keeping your mouth shut and your hands to yourself.”

His sarcastic laugh had Kaylee recoiling impossibly further into Azriel. “And haven’t I done an excellent job? Not even my father suspected when I left tonight. Nor will he smell her on me. I ensured just the two of them could deal with that. It hurts, doesn't it Azriel, when your mate has been touched by another male? When another male comforts her loneliness and calms her anger."

Azriel growled behind her, "If this is about Lucien thinking he caught Elain and I, you could not be more wrong about what happened that night."

Eris smirked, leaning further onto the table. "Sounds familiar."

Kaylee felt eyes on her, causing her to begin sinking further into herself. For once, to Rhysand's surprise, she ignored his beast calling for her, trying to comfort her.

Kaylee had no interest in her magic right now. No interest in the fae. No interest in anything but getting back to Lucien.

Lucien was safe.

Lucien didn't promise safety and then allow her to be taken and held hostage by a tyrant.

Lucien didn't promise her forever then fuck her sister.

Lucien didn't promise to keep her safe then use her for whatever game he had in mind.

No, Lucien was kind. He was warm. He was safe. Lucien, if Kaylee was being honest, may have been the best thing to walk into her life if this was the fate she was in store for.

What was the point of a mating bond, this great promise of unconditional love and equality, when the person, the fae, she corrected herself mentally, could so easily betray you and lie about it.

What was the point in this found family encompassing her and her sisters when she wasn't wanted nor welcome.

What was the point in trying to keep this light in her going? When instead she could let it burn out slowly and just feel nothing.

Azriel's grip softened when he felt emptiness from Kaylee. She wiggled from his grip, leaving his side and going to the door, Mor going after her.

Kaylee didn't know where she was going, but she ignored Mor calling for her. Her feet led her blindly until she found herself in a room standing in front of Nesta.

Morrigan stilled, watching as Nesta tilted Kaylee's face up to look at her. Amren was sniffing her and growled with an unmasked look of disgust.

Nesta opened her mouth as Mor waited for the insults to fly. Her jaw dropping when instead a simple question was asked, “Who did this to you?” Kaylee shook her head rapidly, shoulders falling into sobs as she allowed Nesta to pull her into her chest. “I'm so sorry, Kaylee.”

Kaylee allowed Rhys to walk her to her room in the Riverhouse. The two of them didn't speak as he held her shoulders, taking her to the one safe place all of her friends would be able to reach her.

He sat her down in front of the vanity, unbraiding and unpinning her hair in silence. “I just need to know if you were willing when he touched you,” Rhys didn't stop his work. “No one is mad at you. We all do not believe this was your fault. You were used, Kaylee. That's not your fault." It sounded like he was reminding himself of that as well, and like he was trying to stay together for her.

Kaylee nodded, unable to form words and stared towards the window.

Rhys felt himself shattering.

All their progress with her was slipping away. Taken by a mistake, a misunderstanding, catalyzed by the oldest sister they found comforting her. “Kaylee, don't do this. Talk to me, please.”

Her eyes had gone hollow and empty. She shrugged at him. Shutting herself down completely. Rhysand turned her in the vanity chair, kneeling down to be face to face with her.

“I love you,” he whispered. “Feyre loves you. Cassian loves you. Azriel loves you. Mor loves you. Amren is Amren,” he paused at her ghost of a smile. “You did nothing wrong.” He kissed her forehead, holding her close and hoping contact with him, with anyone from the Inner Circle would bring her back to them.

When she gave him no reaction, he sighed, forehead falling against hers, “Call for me or Fey if you need anything. Tug the bond if you want Azriel. We will all be at the House of Wind. We don't want you around Mor when she's like this."

And all she heard was, "We don't want you."

Kaylee tossed and turned in bed that night.

She could feel something tugging for her, reaching out and calling for her like a siren spell. She got up opening the doors to her private balcony and shut her eyes, trying to feel for whatever wanted her.

When she finally found it, the presence was so familiar she could hardly ignore it now, “I'm ready,” her hushed tone carried in the dead silence of the night, she moved back into her room, putting on clothing and packing a bag.

Then find me, the voice was ancient and deep, rumbling in her soul.

She went down the steps, opening the bond to sense Azriel asleep and at peace for the first time since she had left with Lucien.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered to no one as she walked far enough outside of the house's shield. “Forgive me.”

Azriel was in a deep sleep. Cassian and Rhys had all but forced a tonic down his throat, holding him back from going to Kaylee.

His dream was paradise. The two of them were finally alone, sand from the beach covering their feet as golden sunlight reflected off stilled waters.

Eerily still waters Azriel realized. He blinked in confusion as the dream changed to him walking into a dark cave with nothing but a single torch lighting his way.

This all felt similar, like he had been here before, yet, he hadn't.

And even in its similarity, it felt different. Instead of this being a dream, he was watching it through someone.

It wasn't until the deep growl came, followed by Kaylee gently shushing that realized he was.

Azriel shot awake, tugging the bond, screaming through it, screaming for Rhys and Feyre. A shadow came to him, confirming his fear.

Kaylee was no longer in the Riverhouse. Nor the townhome. Nor did she climb 10,000 steps to the House of Wind.

He had never thrown his armor on quicker in his life, he had never strapped weapons to himself faster than he was now as the bond begged him to protect her this time. To fulfill his duty to her, to his mate.

Rhys and Feyre rushed into his room, Cassian and Mor in tow. “Azriel, it's 3am. Why are you getting dressed and why are you yelling so loudly for us?” Rhysand's voice was heavy with sleep, Feyre leaning against him.

“Kaylee isn't at the Riverhouse. She left and accidentally sent where she is down the bond. We need to go. Now.”

Cassian squeezed his eyes. “Az, Rhys left her there. She-”

“Is standing in a cave with a fucking fire drake, Cassian! My mate tracked down the fucking fire drake with her Dark Mother Cursed magic and is putting her life in danger.”

Rhysand's face dropped as Azriel showed him. “Cassian, go get dressed. Feyre, Mor, go collect Madja and other healers. Now.”

The three Illyrians winnowed to the cave set by the ruins near the Prison. “All this time it's been this close to us, to Velaris,” Cassian muttered. “The last of the fire drakes, this close by.”

Smoke was billowing from the mouth of the cave, cause Azriel's stomach to drop. His only hope came in still feeling her. In feeling that faint opening she had accidentally left in the bond. He didn't wait for a plan, entering the cave despite the shouts coming from behind him.

He would find her, and when he did, he would beg, crawl, grovel. He would let Kaylee rip his heart out with his own dagger for just one moment to explain what happened, to plead for forgiveness, to beg her to give him a chance.

One where Elain didn't interfere.

One where he courted her properly.

One where he knew it could be the end of their everything, but that he had at least tried.

He found her centered in the deepest part of the cave. The fire drake had its head next to her. Its scarred and scaled body was relaxed, taking deep breaths as she shushed it gently, stroking right above its nose.

Rhys and Cassian entered behind him, immediately noticing the same thing. “He's lonely,” Kaylee's voice wobbled, an evident sign she had been crying. “And he thought, maybe, just maybe, he and I could be lonely together.”

General taglist -

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers

Bound by Fate Taglist-

@impossibelle @luvmoo @wallacewillow0773638 @nightless

@cat-or-kitten @knmendiola @holb32

@mis-lil-red @minakay @whatsupb18 @deeshag @justdreamstars @pyrostatic @acourtofmarvels @no1massassin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @acourtofbatboydreams @mich0731 @thelov3lybookworm @going-through-shit

@coralseacourt @snoopyspace @tothestarsandwhateverend

#acotar #azriel acotar #boundbyfate #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x oc #azriel x archeron!oc #az x oc #az x archeron!oc

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itsjusthockey · 3 months

Text

Maria - Jack Hughes (pt.1?)

I’m back from the dead. It’s spring break

Part 2?????? (prove to me u want it)

I’ve missed you guys. Enjoy

w.c: 1,218 (credit to gif maker) (don’t steal my work)

In the year and a half of your life that you spent dating Jack Hughes, you found out that he was great at two things. One, he’s nasty with a puck. Two, he’s fucking fantastic at pissing you off.

Six days post break up, you learn that he still dramatically possesses this particular set of skills.

You’re trying your absolute best to ignore the set of blue hues that you currently feel burning into the back of your skull. You know he’s watching, and you know he knows that you’re avoiding.

“He’s not being very subtle, is he?” Claire, your fellow media personal and work best friend, motions her head toward Jack.

You offer a tight-lipped smile. “No, but that’s never been his MO.”

She gently pats your shoulder twice, and you force yourself to focus on the task at hand. You’re technically on the clock, and you have duties to attend to.

You try to blackout and put yourself in the headspace that you and Jack aren’t even on the same planet, let alone the same red carpet-event. So you grab out your phone, plaster on a wide and grateful smile, and look for the man you actually came for.

You and Claire spot Mat making his way toward the entrance to the All-Star events, stopping to sign a few photos and greet some fans. You watch him throwing smiles left and right, and when he finally escapes, he sees you two standing with your phone and all but rolls his eyes.

He makes his way over to you, letting you both film some media, and once you’re satisfied with what you've got, you both place your phones down. The second your job is done, you are no longer distracted, and you feel yourself tensing up a bit.

“Do you wanna start drinking?” Mat asks, noticing your state.

You bark out a laugh, and once your boss gives the all-clear, you take him up on the offer. Minutes later, you’re nursing a cute NHL-themed cocktail and gossiping with the rest of the Islanders staff. You’re feeling better, knowing Jack is nowhere near your protective bubble, and you relax. It’s fleeting, however, when your boss struts up, drink in hand, giving you a puzzled look.

“And here I thought Hughes would be glued to your side.”

Mat snorts beside you, and you dig a quick elbow to his side and throw on a weak smile.

“Yeah,” you pause. “You won’t have to worry about that anymore.”

You trail off awkwardly, and thankfully, your boss understands the message. She’s quick to apologize, but like everyone else you tell about the recent breakup with the golden boy of the NHL, they’re very curious.

You dive into brief detail. Telling her about the situations at hand. You explain that it was a mutual agreement because of conflicting schedules and distance, and you’re both deciding to act as amicable as possible with both of your careers.

As you explain the breakup with as little detail as possible, the rest of the table shifts uncomfortably, and you’re quick to change the subject. You bring up all the events about to unfold over the weekend, and soon enough, the energy levels out, and you hope that’s the last conversation you’ll have about him. You’re not going to let your Jack ruin possibly the biggest weekend of your career. He’s already ruined enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s late in the evening, and you’ve just finished your skincare when a knock sounds at the door to your hotel room. You’re confused as you spit some toothpaste into the sink and wipe your mouth. You make your way to the door, checking the peephole, and your heart drops out of your body.

Jack is standing outside your door, hair half hidden by a backward Devil's cap and looking directly at the peephole.

“(Y/N)?” He knocks again. “I know you’re standing by the door.”

At lightning speed, you open the door, and he looks a bit startled to actually see you as if he wasn’t knocking on your door.

“Can I help you?”

He smirks at you, and his eyes flick behind you to your room.

“Absolutely not.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “Fine, we can do this out in the hallway in a public space.”

You roll your eyes at the boy and walk inside, leaving the door open for him to follow. Of course, he does.

He steps into the room like he owns the place, and as soon as he crosses paths with your bed, he sits on the side he usually sleeps on.

“What do you want, Jack?”

He stretches out on the bed, and you hear a couple of cracks and pops from his joints.

“To talk, obviously.” He leans forward a bit. “I didn’t love how our last conversation ended.”

You scoff at him.

“You mean when we broke up?”

He cringes at the word and shakes his head at you.

“I don’t think we really broke up. I think we’re just going through a rough patch.”

You’re genuinely shocked by the boy in front of you. You take a deep breath, trying to maintain your composure despite the frustration bubbling inside you.

“Jack, let me make this clear. We are broken up. We aren't getting back together. And you have no business showing up uninvited like this." You pause, locking eyes with him. "I need you to leave. Now."

He chuckles, dismissive. "You can't be serious."

Frustration boils within you. “Dead serious Jack. I’m actually done this time.”

He gives you another slight smirk, and he gets up from the bed. You put some distance between you to let him walk toward the door, but he stops right in front of you, taking a step toward you.

You meet his stare with a stern glare as he stands in front of you; you can feel the tension crackling in the air, his presence almost overwhelming. Before you can react, he leans in swiftly, capturing your lips in a kiss that's both familiar and electrifying. It’s quick, soft, and a harsh reminder of the last years of your life, but it’s also a jolt back to reality.

Breaking away, you push him back away from you, your heart racing. "Kissing me doesn't change anything. We're done."

He steps back, his expression the same arrogant, cocky stare as before, but with a hint of determination glinting in his eyes.

“We're not done, (Y/N). We’re just getting started.”

With one smile, smirk, and a wink thrown your way, he exits the hotel room like he was never there. You let your gaze linger on the door, and you’re left standing there, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions his unexpected visit has stirred up.

You know he’s doing this on purpose. He’s messing with you and your emotions. You know he isn’t going to stop, and this is a long weekend.

Jack Hughes wants your attention. Fine. You’re going to make him regret it.

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lyricswrittenbythesecretdreamer · 13 days

Text

Haunted Pt 2

Hi everyone! Thanks so much for the fantastic reception on Part 1, it really made me want to write some more to this little story! Here's Part 2, I hope you enjoy it as much as the last one.

Summary: Reader remembers a party she was at, and the Ghoul causes trouble in a saloon.

“Are you enjoying the party?”

I looked over to my left to see Barb Howard approaching me. She was completely impeccable – her dark skin was glowing, and she had the best-looking hair in the room. Her dress was a beautiful peach colour, and she had a string of pearls around her neck that were probably worth more than all the alcohol spilling at the party. Beside her, I felt ever so slightly dull.

“Oh, me and Jackie are having such a good time,” I nodded towards the toilets, “he’s currently taking a bathroom break.”

I felt the need to accentuate my husband’s appearance next to Barb, and I breathed a sigh of relief when Jackie appeared from the toilet and smiled widely at us.

“Barb, this is a spectacular event. You lot at Vault-Tec certainly know how to throw a party!” he laughed, and I felt a wave of jealousy come over me as she laughed alongside him. Jackie was so good at this – talking to people he barely knew, making them feel like he really cared about them even if he didn’t give a whatsits. “Me and my wife here barely get a chance to go out together at the minute, this filming is taking awfully long.”

I noticed he winced as he said this, and Barb’s face fell ever so slightly. The one thing we’d both agreed not to mention tonight was the film because we knew I was already on Barb’s bad side after she’d seen The Man from Calabasas. I’d never taken her as a jealous type, but after the premier had finished, Barb had become immediately cold towards me. Her irritation at my presence got worse with Under the Covers, and this one we were currently shooting often had visits to set from Cooper’s wife, who apparently was under the impression I was screwing her husband.

Not even my marriage had convinced her otherwise and she’d been invited to the wedding.

“Well, you and I are both feeling the loneliness from our spouses’ schedules, although Cooper’s is most definitely busier.”

I sucked in a deep breath at her veiled insult, but Jackie just put his hand on the small of my back and pointed to the corner.

“Look, darling, there’s Charlie,” he smiled politely at Barb, and she forced one back at us. “my apologies, Mrs Howard, but I think we’re being waved over.”

We walked away from her, and Jackie let out an unhappy sigh.

“God, you’d think that you’d be flirting with that woman’s husband off-camera with the way she acts towards you.”

“I barely flirt with him on camera, darling.” I chuckled, and he took me in his arms, placed his hands on my waist and kissed me deeply.

“I love you, darling.” He said softly, and I smiled back, feeling myself getting lost in his gaze.

“I love you too, Jackie,” I replied, “I love you very much.”

***

“Earth to Little Miss Ryder, are you even fuckin’ listening to me?”

I turned to the Ghoul, who was waving a gloved hand in my face. I jumped slightly and sent him an uneasy nod. We were walking past the remains of what seemed to be a forest, with trees that were coming back stronger than they’d grown before. Walking along the treeline gave us a bit of shade from the burning sun, but the Ghoul had been shifty since we’d left the hut that morning, looking in every direction at once as if something was going to appear all at once out of nowhere.

“Yeah, sorry. Just got distracted thinking about someone. I mean, something.”

“Well, you better keep fuckin’ focused 'cause I think I can see what passed that hut last night.” He gestured in front of me, and I gasped as I saw what he meant.

Up in the distance, shuffling around aimlessly, was another ghoul.

“Has it seen us?” I whispered, but he shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t think so,” he hissed back, “but we’re gonna have to pass it at some point, and it’s definitely feral.”

In front of us, the feral ghoul began to turn towards us and suddenly I was being pulled behind a tree. He pulled out his gun and gestured for me to do the same.

“Hey, uh, I should probably have asked you this before, but what’s your name? I don’t want to go ‘hey ghoulie’ and have you both turn to look at me.”

“I don’t have one.”

“What do you mean you don’t have one?”

“I. Don’t. Have. One. Okay?”

“Everyone has a name!”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, just call me Sherrif!” he spat out, before leaping out behind the tree and shooting the feral in the head.

“What kind of a fuckin’ name is Sherrif?” I almost laugh at the implications – this fucking Ghoul, who dressed like a cowboy with a secret love of Westerns wanted to be called Sherrif?

“It’s my fuckin’ name, Missy.”

“No, it ain’t.”

“Yes, it is.”

The feral currently on the floor began to move again, but Sherrif shot it again, still glaring at me.

“It’s a fucking stupid name – makes you sound like a dog.”

He lunged at me – grabbed onto my neck and shoved me against the tree we’d just been hiding behind.

“Maybe I just am a dog, Missy. I certainly seem to be followin’ you around like one.”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m fuckin’ paying you for, Sherrif,” He let out an irritated huff, and let me go, adjusting his belt.

“Never meet your fuckin’ heroes,” he sighed and shook his head. I only let out another laugh and shrugged.

“I was never the hero, Sherrif. I was the always the damsel in distress, gettin’ tied up by some evildoer and Coop’s character would have to rescue me.”

“You were pretty fuckin’ fiesty for a damsel in distress.”

“Only ‘cause the old perverts that liked watching Coop’s pictures liked to see a woman’s titties jiggle as she fought off the evil outlaw.”

Walking away from the scene, the bounty hunter Ghoul became talkative in a way he hadn’t been before last night.

“What was it like actin’ alongside the infamous Cooper Howard?” I raised my eyebrows at him, but he only shrugged. “I’m just interested to know if he was a fuckin’ arsehole like actors usually are.”

“What do you know about actors, Sherrif?”

“Been around a long time, I suppose.”

“I can fuckin’ believe that one,” he shot me a dirty look, but I only grinned, “anyway, Coop was actually a pretty nice guy, for the most part. Though it is his fuckin’ fault I’m out here and not sittin’ pretty in a vault with my husband.”

“The vaults aren’t all they were cracked up to be,” the Sherrif grimaced, and adjusted his hat, “you’re probably better off out here.”

“You might be right, to be fair. But if I saw him walkin’ ‘round today, I’d sock him right on the mouth.”

“Haven’t you done that before anyway?” I roll my eyes at his attempt at a joke, but I can’t help but smile.

“We were acting.”

“Were you?”

“Of course I was!” I slap him on the arm, and he grins down at me. For a second, I’m not in the wasteland – I’m back on set with Cooper and Jackie or Greg and we’re just laughing about some dumb shit on the script. Then the wasteland appears before us again and I’m no longer home.

***

The next settlement we arrived at was substantial but quiet. The people there didn’t seem scared of us as we dragged ourselves to the watering hole, but there was a look in their eyes like you’d see in a prey animal. We handed over a few caps to the bartender in exchange for a drink and some directions to somewhere to kip for the night.

“Jus’ head over to Mister J’s place. It’s on the high street, opposite the junk shop. Can’t miss it.”

“Thank you kindly, sir,” I said, turning back to face the Sherrif. He was looking around us with a hint of suspicion on his face, and I handed him his drink. “what’s up, Sherrif? Does this saloon reek of outlaw or somethin’?”

The Sherrif grunted but nodded all the same.

“Somethin’ like that, little Missy. Somethin’ ain’t right here.”

We hadn’t been sitting in the bar long before that something walked right in, a rather substantial gun in his hand and a crazed look in his red-rimmed eyes. The bar went completely silent, and the ghoul next to me immediately put a hand on his own gun.

So far, apart from the trouble with raiders and fiends and all that shit, we hadn’t faced a huge threat. But between the haunted looks of the settlement inhabitants, and the coked-up-looking man standing next to the bar, I was sure this was going to be trouble. It reminded me of a scene from Under the Covers, where I’d played a sultry young woman hiding a dark secret opposite Cooper’s detective and he’d got into a bar fight over a mafiosa’s wandering hands.

I shook my head at the Sherrif, who seemed to be moments away from pulling out his gun and firing it at the coked-up crazy man before he decided to fire at anyone else. He frowned but shifted anyway and pulled his hat further over his face. The sudden intruder whispered something in the ear of the bartender, who had become very interested in the glass he’d been polishing. He put the glass down and poured the man a beer, before quickly going back to polishing his glasses.

From where we were sat, I had a pretty good view of the dude – his red eyes, thick beard, the bloodied fist clenched around his beer glass. I looked back over at the Sherrif, whose eyes were trained on the gun in the man’s other bloodied hand.

I made eye contact with the Sherrif and then looked over to the door. He seemed to get my meaning, and we were about to get up when the crazed man began to talk.

“You got the caps for this month, Jim?” he asked, and the barman cowered, before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, Sir, I haven’t been able to make the full amount since that shootout last month, I just need-”

“So you don’t have my fucking caps, is that what you’re saying?”

“No, Sir.”

At this point, I could see that the barman was shaking, and the other man was holding up his gun, not quite pointing it, but holding it up as if he were inspecting it. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the Sherrif shift in his seat, and his hand returned to the pistol.

“Well then, I guess I gotta give you a little more time then, eh? A little bit more time to make a few more caps, yeah?”

“Yes Sir, please. I only need a couple more days.” I was almost certain that the barman was close to shitting himself, and I was beginning to panic that we would be next.

I remembered men like these – men who would come into the brothel with their guns, pointing them at any whore who dared disobey.

I remembered shooting a few of them.

I watched, half in horror and half in dull apathy as the coked-up man raised his gun to the head of the barman, who had resorted to whimpering in fear. There was a click, as he pulled the trigger, but no gunshot ran out.

The barman let out a cry, but the other man just began to laugh.

“You got til’ tomorrow. If I don’t get my caps, I’ll shoot you in the fucking head for real.”

The barman whimpered a thank you and then seemed to crumple to his knees in relief, disappearing from view.

I let out a sigh of relief of my own, and I saw the Sherrif remove his hand from his holster. I relaxed my shoulders and leaned back into my chair and I saw my companion relax a little himself.

“Now, what have we got here?”

Shit. I took a quick look over to the Sherrif, who was currently in a staring contest with the apparent landlord of the saloon.

“Me and my companion here are just a couple wanderers, enjoying a quick drink,” I hastily begin, “We won’t be sticking around long.”

“You know, you don’t see many ghouls around these parts.” The Sherrif remained silent, so I attempted to step in again.

“We’ll be on our way very soon,” I said, “We’re not sticking around, like I said.” I looked over to the Sherrif as I did so, who raised his glass to the Landlord and downed the rest of his drink.

“You look very familiar, young lady,” the Landlord began, “Have we met before?”

I shook my head and forced out a smile.

“We’re nobodies, Sir. Just your average wastelanders.”

He looked us over, for a moment, before standing aside.

“Off you go then, average wastelanders.” He had a sneer painted across his scarred, hairy face that I didn’t like but at least he was letting us go.

We got to the door of the saloon and were about to walk out and find wherever Mr J’s was when the Landlord’s voice called out to us once again.

“I know where I remember you, Little Missy,” my breath caught in the back of my throat and I clenched my jaw. “You work at that brothel near Scrapheap, right? You were a slave there.”

“I earned my freedom,” I bit out, “I don’t work there anymore.”

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t just knock you out and sell you back to it? I’m sure they’re missing their best worker.” He leered at me and I felt myself shiver. His eyes felt like they were piercing right through my bones. I opened my mouth to speak again, but I was interrupted before I could make a sound.

“You try anythin’ and I’ll shoot a bullet through your thick fuckin’ skull, alright?” Beside me, the Sherrif grinned and pointed his gun at the man in front of us. “I’d say that’s one good fuckin’ reason.”

The Landlord let out a loud, unhinged laugh. A few people around us began to laugh as well, and then the Ghoul standing next to me began to laugh as well.

He shot at the Landlord, and all hell broke loose.

#the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard #cooper howard x you #the ghoul x oc #cooper howard x oc #cooper howard x reader #fallout tv series #fallout prime #fallout show #walton goggins

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fan-goddess · 3 months

Text

Chapter Four: A new kind of promise

Catch up on the fic here!

Authors Note: After weeks of heavy research into Romani weddings traditions, I decided to use a mix of traditional events and my own versions. The questions I’ve been trying to find answers for have come up with little to nothing, so I’m mixing it all up into my own thing. I am sorry if that’s offended people, but I genuinely can’t do much about it. I have tried asking for help, but nothing came through. I’ve used mainly Christian traditions, but am making it my own with as much limited information that I found online weaved in.

Chapter Summary: The wedding day is coming up quickly, and your little conversation with your hopefully soon to be husband has made you think of things more clearly than you before

Taglist: @valeskafics, @omgbrcat @humanpurposes, @watercolorskyy, @blue-serendipity @anjelicawrites @lexwolfhale @helaenaluvr @scarletbedlam @tssf-imagines @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @arcielee @targaryenbarbie @ilikechocolatemilkh @tumblin-theworldaway

Warnings: Talks of arranged marriage, literal marriage, most likely incorrect portrayal of a Romani wedding, she/her pronouns mentioned, (if I miss any let me know!)

The wedding is in two days, and the memory of Abrahams body against yours is still unrelenting and clear in your mind as ever. Sticking with you with the same ferocity as a stick of Ivy that’s grown on the side of a house.

Though it were his words that clung to you most adamantly. ‘Because while she may not even be here yet, I already somehow finding myself caring for her. Just as much as I find myself already loving you.’

“What’s got you in such a state my darling?” Your mother says, making you suddenly jump in pure fright as in your thoughts you’d forgotten she was even there in the first place.

You sigh. “Nothing mum. I was just… just thinking of the wedding.”

You’d hate to say anything to inflate her ego, but your mum has been nothing short of a saint, even with her small snide comments every so often. As while you’ve been so caught up on Abraham, she’s been caught up in the making of your wedding. Making sure everything is being set up rightly for the day, and making sure your dress will be made in good time. It seems her bossiness and her attitude is good for something other than nagging you.

She scoffs in disbelief at your answer, but to your relief she seems to let the comment slide. Focusing on making herself a cup of tea, reminding you of your own that whilst you were caught up in your thoughts, turned cold in your hands. Still, you sip at it diligently anyway. Attempting to use it as a very useless distraction that of course does little to help.

The stables are now a place you can’t go to anymore. Too fearful to be put face to face with your soon-to-be husband to go anywhere near that now haunted place. From what you’ve heard from the recent girl talk you’ve been listening too with pricked up ears whenever Abrahams been mentioned, he hasn’t been going there too much recently anyway. Choosing to go either there or mainly out in the woods. He still drops off the wood and the animal carcasses, only with the recent development of the two of yours’ relationship, he only places them at the step of the door, before knocking and leaving soon as he comes. As if he was never there in the first place.

You don’t blame him for acting like this. Especially with how you acted to him after he practically told you he loved you.

You hate yourself for it. As when he uttered those words, you froze. You mumbled incoherent words even to yourself, and ran away like an absolute fucking coward. You left him standing there in that stable, leaning against the wall after he said those personal things to you, and you feel absolutely awful for it.

Your parents had asked what had you in such a rush when you all but sprinted through the door, but you couldn’t dare tell them the reason. Instead, you yelled you needed the loo, and hid in the toilets for a few minutes and cried into your hands like an idiot.

The days that went by after that had all been eerily and dreadfully similar. His words had revealed something within you that made you so fearful of it all that you now cannot do anything but hate yourself, and pray to whatever man or thing that was in the sky that Abraham would still love you, even after what you had done.

To your surprise though, praying to whoever you could seemingly worked, as each night that passed resulted in another day until your wedding. When you’d become his wife and he’d become your husband. It would have been so exhilarating if the days before hadn’t been so awful and hateful.

The anxiety has been killing you, but putting that aside, the dress itself was absolutely beautiful.

It was white, a colour insisted by your mother even though there was a very high chance it’d be dyed a mixture of green and brown by the end of night, and reached around your mid calf. There was even delicate lace hand sewn by your mother. An act you could not dare to deny brought small tears to your eyes that were quickly dried away claiming hay fever, in fear it would somehow spoil the minimal makeup that had been insisted by the other ladies who’d helped you get ready.

Yet as you found yourself walking down the laid out path towards where your fiancé stands, you cannot deny that for once, you felt truly beautiful. That it felt thrilling almost to feel actually wanted and desired by a man who you would soon share your bed with.

Abraham doesn’t turn to look at you until you’re a few steps away. Yet when he does, your heart does somersaults as you see his mouth open slightly, and his eyes quickly move to look over you fully. His eyes widening slightly as he takes you all in, though you feel the need to almost snicker when you see they linger at times specially around your cleavage. An act he stops doing so quickly you could easily blink and miss it.

His reaction calms you though. As it shows he still cares for you in his own way. It shows that he still wants to be wish you. In his own way…

When you get to him, he nods his head in his own way of a greeting, and you nervously nod your own. Your lips already sore and swollen from how much you’ve been biting them in your anxiety the last couple days. Yet when Abrahams eyes trail to look at your lips, a whole new type of ache travels through you.

“May all who are here today sit now!” Pal shouts, his voice loud and asserting as everyone quickly moves to follow his orders. You and Abraham as well moving to face him as he looks at the both of you with a kind smile you cannot help but reciprocate.

“Abraham Lee, is here today to marry this fine woman from our own clan. Her parents are here today to witness the change of her transitioning from their daughter, to Abrahams wife. I understand that Abraham, instead of using typical money, has gifted one of his prized horse to the brides parents as payment. Does the brides parents feel this is a good payment for their daughter?”

You can’t turn back at the moment to look, but you can hear your father’s grunt as he lifts himself onto his feet, and how your mother fusses at him for him to be careful.

“Yes, me and my wife believe the horse that Abraham has provided our family with was a sufficient price to pay for our daughter. We are grateful to welcome him into our home, and are grateful he has taken such a shine to our only child.” Your father chokes, almost sounding on the verge of tears at the end of his words, before another round of grunts begins, signifying he’s finished and has sat back down on his chair again with a sigh.

Pal nods his head in a silent thanks to your parents, and turns to your right to look at Abraham eye to eye.

“Okay then. Now, Abraham Lee. Do you promise to take this romni under your protection? Do you vow to look after her, and be a good husband for her? To allow herself to be shielded by you forever, until the day you die?”

He doesn’t answer straight away, you yourself only hearing him let out a single deep breath, and you quite honestly feel yourself almost die on the spot fearing the worst has happened. That he has realised his mistake and that he’d put the wedding off there and then, shaming you for your actions.

Only whilst you’re worrying, he grunts and begins speaking, and you have to slowly let out the breath you were holding previously in thanks. “Yes, I vow to do all that and more for her.”

Then Pal turns to you, and suddenly you find yourself unable to breath once more. Who knew the whole ordeal would be so friggin stressful?

“Do you, a daughter of this clan and of the Roma, take Abraham Lee as your husband? Do you understand you will be under his protection, living in his home with him and being with him until his or your last breath? Do you vow to be a good wife to him, looking after him and caring for him back to full health whenever needed? Do you vow to guide him, when it is needed too? Do you vow to do all that and more for him, in exchange for his protection?”

Your breath is shaky as you hold it, and whilst it would be improper to do so, you want so badly to hold Abrahams hand firmly in your own and use his strength for some stability. Still, it is improper, and Abraham still has every right to shove you to the dirt and shame you.

“Yes, clan leader, I vow to do all that and more for him, as he is my husband now and forever more.” The extra words aren’t necessary, but it feels nice to do and makes you feel sort of giddy to see the small smile on Abrahams face in the corner of your eye. His body shifting from side to side as the next part of the ceremony begins.

“May the husband and wife hold each others hands.”

The two of you turn to each other, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see Abraham’s cheeks are an unfamiliar shade of pink. He almost appears bashful, but that would no doubt be an unfamiliar feeling of his.

Still, his hands move to clasp your own, and your thumb begins to rub small shapes on the back of his veiny hand. His own hands though clench slightly round yours, possibly as a warning. It probably wouldn’t be a good look for him or you if he was to begin glaring at you already, not even ten minutes into the ceremony.

“Do the two do you vow to look after each other, stay true to each other, and be good to each other for the rest of yours and theirs’ lives?”

This time, there is no real hesitation from either of you, as both you and Abraham almost manage to say ‘I will’, at the same time as each other.

Though after that, Pal smiles at the two of you, and motions for the bread to be brought out. Which when it gets handed to the two of them, it’s odd, as it’s almost like the both of you don’t want to release each others hands just yet, content in providing the other with a comforting warmth. Still, the both of you split hands anyways, and move to hold your own hands and kneel before Pal who continues to stand, to allow the rest of the ceremony to continue to take place.

“I bless the both of you with this bread, in the hopes it will symbolise the fruitful future the two of you will bring to each other.” You can feel the bread being placed on your knees, and for a slight second, your body recognises that familiar feeling of warmth and comfort as you feel Abraham’s hand on your leg for a quick moment grabbing one of the two chunks of bread. Pal hands him the salt, and he adds an almost amusing amount onto it, you yourself doing the exact same, only with much less.

Abraham brings the bread to your lips, and with a surprising amount of grace you manage to take the break into your mouth, eyes widening as the sudden taste of salt hits you. Your hand moving to cover your mouth as it takes a few seconds for you to be able to swallow. But after that small moment, which you could see brought a smile to Abraham’s face, you place your own piece of bread by his lips, and with much less care for his manners he fully leans forward and places his lips over your fingers, leaving spit to cover your fingertips as you let go of the bread and it falls directly on his waiting tongue.

Pal gives the two of you a minute to swallow, but neither you nor Abraham needs it. And instead, the two of you take the time to admire each other in your respective wedding outfits. Your own eyes focused on the way his body somehow manages to look so good in the clean yet somehow still Abraham looking suit, while his almost can’t seem to focus on one thing. His eyes constantly roaming your body as if he can’t get enough of you.

“Now that that’s been done, the bride and groom, if you can continue to face each other please! It’s time for the last bit of the vows part before we can move onto dancing, which I can say for all is what we’re definitely looking forward too! Or in my case, the booze!”

A small wave of laughter is heard from the guests, and even a small giggle from yourself is heard. A doing which brings a small, barely noticeable smile from the man in front of you.

“Finally, the newly vowed couple of the rom and romni needs to do one final thing. Abraham, my friend, it’s time for you to kiss your new bride!”

Your breath feels like it’s swept away from you as Abraham steps closer to you and takes your head in his hands, before pulling you closer. Your eyes close in delight and you feel yourself so close to letting out some sort of noise of pure happiness when his lips firmly press against your own.

Your heart feels like it’s about to beat from your chest as your hands grasp around Abrahams vest and somehow try to pull him closer to you. You can feel his body heat overwhelming you, and you almost let out something akin to a sad sound when he eventually pulls away from you. Yet that quickly gets forgotten when you see Abrahams red swollen lips up close. And when you find yourself able to tear your eyes away to look properly at him, you can see his own eyes and doing just the same. Unable to look away from your lips.

The both of you are so smitten that you almost don’t hear Pal announcing how it’s time for the celebration dance. Only broken from the trance when Pal places a hand gently against the both of yours’ shoulders and murmurs the instructions to the both of you, choosing to ignore the knowing smirk on his lips as the both of you are lead to where the rest of the nights festivities are being held.

It’s beautiful, for there are various lights that are hung up all around that brighten up the space wonderfully, and many other things that are dotted around that bring a deep sense of fondness deep in your heart. Soon though, music floods the air as you giggle amusingly at the sight of your mother and father dancing wildly as if there was no one else there. As if his injury was never there in the first place.

You look at Abraham, but to your delight you find he is already looking at you with a content smile on his face. It’s strange, to see the once hard working and duty driven man that is Abraham look so soft in your presence. But you must say, it certainly begins to grow on you almost annoyingly quickly.

“Do you, do you want to dance?” You stutter, scared he’d say no to your question. Only to your surprise, he doesn’t. Abraham murmurs his own version of an agreement, and takes your hand in his own, bringing a deep flush to your surprised face.

To your delight, he brings you to the very centre of the makeshift dancing area, and he holds you close to him as he begins to move you in time with his body. His hands clasped firmly against your waist and your hand, his face tucked next to yours.

“I didn’t get the chance to tell you earlier, but you look gorgeous…” Abraham murmurs, his breath tickling your ear sending shivers down your spine. “Made me forget about everything except the fact that you’re mine now. That you belong to me, and the fact that now…” He takes such a deep breath as he pauses that he almost causes the hair tucked behind your ear to fall loose. “That now I’m yours too.”

You can’t help yourself from grinning at his confession, nor can you dare think to stop yourself from kissing his cheek lightly. Showing your own silent appreciation for his words.

The two of you dance for a while. Content in each other arms. Dancing till you’re forced to confess how much your feet are aching in your shoes. Yet even when the two of you sit down, Abraham still keeps his firm hold on you, refusing to let go of your hand from his. The only time he actually let go being when he insisted on getting you some food to eat after the long day, glaring and seemingly harsh when he practically forbade you from standing and getting it for yourself. But as little as you really know your husband, you know he means the best in his words and his actions. As he had said earlier, he protects fiercely what he loves.

You’re so wrapped up in thoughts with a smile that you can’t help but flinch slightly when you feel a hand place itself on your shoulder, yet a brighter smile when you see you father looking down on you with his own tearful smile.

“The two of you looked happy together when you were dancing. I don’t think the poor boy wanted to let go of you!” He grins, sitting down next to you in an empty chair.

“I didn’t either!” You giggle, smiling so fondly you swear you can feel your cheeks begin to hurt.

“I’m glad. I’m so happy for you darling that you’re happy. You know, I just remembered the talking too I gave that boy before this...”

“Oh dad you didn’t!” You gasp with your hands over your mouth, a horrified look on your face as you think of all the worst things as possible that couldn’t happened between them.

“Oh you bet I did! I refused to allow this man one moment of thought that he could get away with hurting my little girl! I told him clearly and firmly, that if he hurt you in any way shape or form, that he’d have me and all the lads making sure he paid for it dearly!”

“Dad!” You groan, embarrassed and horrified as you laid you head in your hands, your cheeks no doubt a bright red right now from the shame.

“It’s true! I may have weak bones, but that doesn’t mean I can’t give him one for sure!” Your father insists, much to your utter horror. It gets even worse when another voice joins in the conversation…

“I agree sir!” Abraham speaks, two plates in his hands as he places one in front of you and one in front of himself as he sits in another empty chair to your left. When you look down to see what he’s gotten you, you’re quite delighted to see a lot of your favourite foods there waiting for you to eat them.

“Thank you.” You say to him, genuinely surprised and grateful for what he’s done for you just now.

“Don’t be,” He grunts, tucking into a sausage roll on his place. “I got your mother to help me. Didn’t want to get you anything you hated or were allergic too or something…”

You don’t respond, choosing what’s best to respond with is a small hum of agreement and nod, before placing your hand on his which lays on the table. You have to try and not let out an audible noise when Abraham seems to instinctively clench his fingers around yours and firmly hold you. Ever the possessive man it seems your husband will be.

Your father looks at the both of you fondly, and he gives you a small smile and a nod of his own before he leaves to most likely go to talk to your mother or some other person.

“Did you enjoy it. Today, I mean.” Abraham grunts again, pausing his movements to look at you so intently you feel your whole body flush.

“Yeah, I really did. Think it’s the best day of my life.” You smile, genuinely feeling almost euphoric seeing his bashful face that he tries to hide with his now free hand. Though to save his embarrassment you move to eat your own food with a smile, staring at the dance floor where Pal has somehow convinced your mother to dance with him, much to your amusement as you begin to giggle at the sight.

Soon though, the night comes to an end as the parents take the little kids home, and the adults who have no children have other adults take them home after getting absolutely shit faced drunk, much to Abrahams amusement who huffs a laugh at them.

Your parents come to the both of you and wish you well, as your belonging have apparently already been moved into Abrahams caravan so you could stay there tonight. And due to them knowing of Abrahams family situation, they wish him the best of luck too. Even giving him a hug which you swear leaves him looking brighter than earlier.

The two of you are the last people to leave the party, but a couple other members of the clan offer to help bring the presents people have given the both of you, which Abraham and you accept gratefully when you see the sheer size of a few of them. Though when you see some familiar wrapping you remember seeing in your mother’s wrapping box you can’t help but laugh slightly in reminiscence of it all.

Abraham and yourself make it to his caravan relatively quickly whilst being followed by those who’d offered to help. They came in and left rather quickly, putting the gifts on a countertop before leaving, saying their own little congratulations while they do. Leaving you and Abraham alone in the room to look at each other.

A strange sort of silence overwhelms you, and it’s with a small gasp you suddenly feel Abrahams hand on your cheek caressing your skin carefully and softly.

“I think, if it’s alright with you little, we continue what you left me with at the stables…”

#abraham x you #abraham grantchester #abraham fan fic #abraham fan fiction #abraham fanfic #abraham fanfiction #abraham smut #abraham x reader #abraham imagine #abraham #grantchester smut #grantChester #ewan mitchell character #Ewan Mitchell #ewan mitchell fanfiction #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan mitchell x reader

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moon-child-goddess · 4 months

Text

When we say goodbye Pt 3

Pairings: Druig X LightBender!Eternal!Reader (Fem)

Summary: They stop the emergence and figure out what life holds for them.

Warnings: MCU Violence, Blood, Fighting, I used Fem pronouns, Kissing I guess, stray from canon events.

Author's note: I once again got carried this is 6k words. I tried to make it really fluffy. Also sorry it is late i was sick.

Part one Part Two

Druig studied the gold details caved into the walls of the plane. They looked a lot like the ones on the ship they came here on. The place that was their home for thousands of years. There was a black sectional in front of a theater screen that was playing a movie with no sound on. It was over the top compared to Kingos she had spared no expense. He didn’t know where to sit for the long flight. Y/N had made it clear to Druig that she was still mad at him and was doing this for the others.

Y/N currently sat on the couch in the corner by a window. A pile of papers was splayed out in front of her with no clear organization to them. She held on to a burner phone pressing it hard to her ear. A picture of three men opening a crate was clutched in her hand. She let out a loud sigh tossing the photo to the side, and shuffled through papers looking for one file that she swore she grabbed on her way out. She spoke in a hushed whisper trying to keep Druig out of her business. However, he could make out a few words.

“Take care of it Loretta… I know but you are… Call him… Don’t make me beg.”

When she hung up, she narrowed her eyes a raised her brow at him.

“You just going to stand there? or sit?” Y/N snapped the phone in half and handed it to the stewardess on the plane. And went back to looking through the files. She still had work to do if the world survived the emergence.

Druig however didn’t move, he didn’t even blink, he just stared at her. He was at a loss for words.

“Staring is rude Dru. I know Ajak taught you that.” She spoke softly looking up from the file. He finally sat down leaving four feet of space between them. Druig stared at the movie playing trying to distract himself from the silence they were in. His gaze flickered over to Y/N occasionally wanting to interrupt her work but didn’t know what to say.

Y/N could feel his eye drilling into the side of her head. She read the same paragraph over and over again the words blurred together. His presence was distracting to her and feeling his eyes on her was not helping. She couldn’t do the work she wanted, and she needed to find a way to get rid of spiderman.

“Y/N?”

“No. I told you I would help. We are not friends. You stay there in your corner. I will continue to act like you are not here.” Druig sighed. He was once again at a loss of how to approach the situation.

Y/N became annoyed. All she could hear was him breathing and swore he was making up words for the movie. He was mumbling about something, but she wasn’t sure what. She pushed the papers into a somewhat neat pile. Then tossed them in to the bag she brought, and stared out the window as the dark sky.

“Do you hate me that much?” Druig spoke in a whisper. His accent made it hard for her to make out the words.

Y/N exhaled rolling her eyes. In truth no she did not hate him. She wanted to viscerally hate him, but she never could bring herself to even dislike him even after all this time. He was a light in her life that she lost and missed the warmth he brought her. That safe and secure feeling she had when he was near. It was just easier to wallow in pity and pretend that she hated him. Fake it till you make it was her motto for the last two thousand years.

“I- I don’t know. Not to sound like a broken record but you hurt me. I thought I meant more to you than the others. Because as much as you deny it you cared about them. But you left me when I begged you to take me.” She paused, taking a deep breath and licked her lips before continuing.

“Discarded me like human waste. Was I just temporary entertainment to you?”

He took the opportunity to scoot closer causing Y/N to stare at him instead of the dark sky. He stopped about a foot away testing the waters. He wanted to touch her. To comfort her and make her see she was his world.

“Sunshine. You must know you were the only one I genuinely cared about, besides Makkari.”

“Then why did you leave me?” Y/N cried out. And repeated the question quieter with glassy eyes. Tears threatening to spill out.

“I am so sorry sunshine. I didn’t want to leave you, but I was trying to be selfless for once. You loved every single one of them more than I could comprehend. I couldn’t pull you away from that, and you end up regretting it.”

She scoffed and looked back out the window staring into the black void of the night sky.

“They all left me too. I had sprite on and off during that time. But those two thousand years were hell. You took a part of me I don’t think I will ever get back.”

Druig reached out and gently grasped her hand rubbing his thumb over her wrist stopping at her pulse. He wanted to fix this. It was never his intention to hurt her.

“Was it really that bad?” She pulled her hand out of his hold and set it in her lap.

“I watched the man I loved walk away from me, and then the man I fell in love with was murdered in front of me. We got six glorious years that was it. A blink to us eternals.”

Druig flinched. Loved? As in past tense? he thought. Scared of the answer she may give him. She kept looking out the window refusing to acknowledge him. Y/N pulled her feet up on the chair hugging her knees to her body trying to make herself look small. She wanted this conversation to end. Every emotion she had pushed away for centuries was surfacing.

“Loved?” Druig couldn’t resist, he had to know. Y/N pinched her lips frowning.

“That’s what you care about? You don’t have to worry I got over my unrequited love a while ago.”

“Do you honestly believe that I didn’t love you? Please look at me Y/N” His voice was raw, and she hesitated to do what he asked. Eventually giving in to the side that still cared for him.

They stared at each other. His blue eyes keeping eye contact with her. Feeling overwhelmed with the emotions he held in his eyes she turned her head slightly. He moved with her to keep eye contact.

“You must know you are the only one I care about. Y/N, I never wanted anything more in my life. You are beautiful and my sunshine. Every time I called you sunshine that was me saying ‘I love you’. I was scared that I had these feelings and you deserved better.”

Y/N let a tear escape. She didn’t know what to say to him. Druig gave her everything she wanted to hear from him.

“I will apologize for the rest of our existence. I will beg on my knees for you to let me back in.”

Y/N giggled through the tears that fell. A sight she would have liked to see. He cupped her face wiping the drops away giving her a soft smile. Her skin was cold to his warm hands.

“I don’t know what to say.” She whispered. For once she was at a loss for words.

In response he laughed, his breath fanning over her face. The minty smell was overwhelming. She scooted closer to him, their faces a centimeter apart. Her eyes bore into his. She took a deep breath to stop the tears. His familiar smell filled her senses again. Oh how she had missed this familiarity, the feeling of home.

“You still smell good, and it is infuriating.” She mumbled.

He laughed again, his accent coming out a bit more. This was the person he knew. The one he loved.

“So do you.”

Y/N shook her head his hands falling one landing on her thigh. She laid her head on his shoulder suddenly very tired. Druig rested his cheek on the top of her hair, savoring her touch and made a silent promise to never let her go again.

Soft snores came from her as she slept soundly. He took in her tranquil state and traced a finger over her features softly to avoid waking her up.

----

“Why are you wearing a leather jacket in the desert?” Y/N teased as they tracked through the hot sandy hills of Iraq.

“Because I like it.” Druig shrugged, sending her a small smile.

The outline of the rest of the eternals grew the closer they got. Y/N picked up speed practically running to them. Druigs hand shot out resting on her lower back ready to catch her if she fell. The closer they got the faster she sprinted. After being apart from most of them for centuries she was ecstatic to see her family again. Mainly Thena and Sprite (but she would never tell anyone that). Sprite had been her best friend through the toughest of times.

“Y/N” Sprite called out when she saw her figure approaching.

Sprite ran toward her. Once close enough they enveloped each other in a bone crushing hug. Y/N clung on just a little longer. The last hug she had with her was at Giovanni’s funeral.

“I am sorry I pushed you away Sprite.”

“It’s ok, I get it. I was going to lecture you about finding yourself again plus you were in a dark place.” Sprite held an honest and forgiving tone as she let Y/N go.

Y/N bit chewed on her upper lip. She knew this kindness was more than she deserved after everything she had done, but it meant the world to her that Sprite still treated her the same.

“I am working things out, but I am here to assist.”

“May I cut in?” The blonde warrior asked from behind sprite.

Y/N squealed. Launching herself at the unsuspecting women.

Thena smiled and grabbed Y/N’s face. Her eyes traced over the girls’ features taking in every inch of the face she hadn’t seen in so long. Y/N looked the same, just tired and a little sadder in the eyes. After a moment Thena picked Y/N up in a bear hug twirling them both around. Both of them let out a giggle. It was the happiest Y/N has felt in a long time.

“I have missed you.” The warrior spoke while setting Y/N back on her feet.

“As I you.”

“Sorry to interrupt this moment, but Druig can you get rid of the humans over here?” Phastos called out from where he stood.

Druig nodded and glanced back over at Y/N. She was still smiling at the two people in front of her, clearly elated. His heart skipped a beat at the sight. In the time apart from her he often dreamed about that smile. He nudged her shoulder hands in his jacket pockets and tilted his head towards everyone else. Y/N gave him the same smile and looped her arm through his walking with him. It felt like the good times when they would stroll around town before everyone was awake.

Y/N said a soft hello once they stopped near the others. Sersi gave her a light embrace muttering a sweet hello.

“This is Y/N she can manipulate light into anything she wants it to be.” Kingo held an animated tone while speaking directly to the camera Karun was holding. Karun panned over to the women who waved at him not entirely sure what was going on.

“Not anymore. I can manipulate shadows though.” Y/N tried to sound carefree as she spoke it aloud to the group, but failed there was an edge to her tone.

“Oh really! I may need to change the script for my next movie then.”

“You are still making those?”

“Yes, the people love me.” Kingo said in a duh tone.

“Who is this man?”

“Oh, that is my assistant Karun.”

“And he hasn’t run for the hills?”

Kingo shot Y/N a glare offended. He didn’t have a chance to remark as the wind picked up as Phastos summoned the ship. Sand blew towards them. Y/N was cursing the fact that she was the only one who didn’t bring sunglasses. She buried her face in Druigs back holding her breath. She let out a small gasp when Druig reached behind and set a hand on her hip.

----

The group of eternals crept through the ship at a snail’s pace. Kingo whispered into the video camera speaking ominous words that sent a chill through the group. He was acting as if there was going to be an axe murder hiding on board to kill them.

“What are you doing? You know you are creeping us out right?” Phastos spoke up.

As if on que a loud pop echoed through the hall. Causing Y/N to flinch at the loud sound. She let out a small yelp and clung on to Druigs side. He let out a soft chuckle before putting an arm around her shoulder pulling her in closer.

“Its ok,” He murmured in her ear. “Thena stepped on something.”

“You turned my lab into a sarcophagus?” Phastos cried out to Makkari using his right hand to gesture around at the things strewn about.

Makkari was perched on a throne with a plethora of books surrounding her. She smiled once the group came to a stop in front of her. She asked them if it was time to go home.

Y/N’s face twisted into a grimace not ready to break her spirit. She too wished to leave this plant and start over. Makkari frowned once she took in everyone’s sullen expressions.

“Who is going to tell her?” Y/N asked. She did not want to be the one to crush her spirit. She may have been a cruel person to those that deserved it, but she couldn’t do it to her family.

“I will do it.” Kingo volunteered after a moment of no one talking.

Phastos got to work immediately wasting no time in finding a solution. While the rest started rummaging through the goods in the room.

Y/N was rummaging through a box of paintings next to where Sprite sat on the ground. The red head was reading an old scroll. It was in a language Y/N had long forgotten. She stumbled across a dusty painting that a king had once gifted her.

‘It would be such a shame no to capture such beauty.’ He had said to her while obnoxiously drunk at one of his parties. No matter what Y/N said he would not take no for an answer. Leading her to reluctantly agree to letting him commission a piece. She pulled it out of the crate to look at it better. The colors had faded throughout the centuries.

“That king wanted to marry you. He almost proposed too, but Druig got involved.” Sprite spoke up. Lowering the scroll she was reading from. At the mention of his name Druig turned to face them. His jaw clenched when he took in what Y/N was holding.

“I merely saved him from heartbreak when she inevitably said no.” Druig called out. Y/N rolled her eyes setting the painting back to its proper place.

Y/N narrowed her eyes as she watched Druig pick up her old journal from a pile in the corner of the room. Before he could open it she took off towards him. It was full of so many things that she didn’t want anyone to read.

“Give it to me.” Y/N panted once in front of him.

“Oh, you want this” He held the book above his head with a smirk.

Y/N huffed out and jumped up trying to get it. On the third try her hands touched the leather. She had half the mind to tackle him, but she knew he wouldn’t budge. Instead, Y/N got on a table to make herself taller.

“Yes, now please give it to me, or I will stab you.” The threat fell on deaf ears, as Druig lifted her from the table setting her back on the ground. He rested his forehead to hers smiling down at her angry look. He held the journal out to the side still just out of her grasp.

“What’s in here? Your dirty thoughts?”

“No.” Y/N blushed answering way too quickly. A heat coursing through her face.

Druig cackled, bringing everyone’s attention to the two for a second. He handed her the brown leather book tapping her nose with it before walking away.

Y/N made a mental note to burn the book as soon as possible while hiding it under a pile of miscellaneous items. On the other end of the table was an old talisman Ajak had loved and wore it often. Y/N picked it up her heart breaking at the realization she would never see the women again. The air around her became stale as she tried to steady her beathing. Losing all the joy she had moments ago.

“Now where did you end up finding the Emerald tablet at Makkari?” Druig asked not too far from where Y/N stood lost in her thoughts.

Y/N grinned and turned to them. She had found it at an underground black-market auction. Where she bought it for more money than she cared to admit. A trusted friend of hers had packed it and delivered it personally to Makkari. With a note apologizing for ever doubting that it was real. It was her penance for making fun of her friend looking for something that sounded insane.

‘After all this time I found it. Sorry for doubting you- Love Y/N/N.’

Makkari pointed at Y/N. Signing out the story to Druig with a small grin on her lips. It was a fond memory of hers when the mysterious package showed up.

Y/N plucked the tablet from Druigs’ unsuspecting hands. Her fingers brushed over the carvings on the stone. When she bought it she had barley looked at before sending it off. There was a lot to do, and the CIA had been on their way to her base in California. Druig watched as she bit down on her bottom lip furrowing her eyebrows at the green rock.

‘You finally admit you love her?’ Makkari signed to him with a knowing smile.

‘Shut up’ he signed back.

“I found a way to connect us all” Phastos called out pulling everyone back to him.

The plan was insane. Even if it did work who knew what the repercussions would be.

The group began to do what they do best and bicker with one another. It was irksome to Y/N that they were here to save the humans and they still were all in disagreement. She rolled her eyes tuning out the yelling. Eventually they would calm down and they could try to solve the plot holes in the plan.

“We could be responsible for billions of lives not being created in the universe. Boss am I right?” Kingo cried out his words seemed to confuse Ikaris.

“Say something Ikaris! Y/N?” Sprite spoke out. A quite tension filling the room as they all stared one another down.

“I don’t care what we do one way or another.” Y/N spoke. “We run a risk no matter what. Arishem will be mad at us.”

Ikiaris suddenly ran out of the room clearly shaken. Y/N knew that look on his face he was guilty of something she wasn’t sure what it was, but he carried a look of guilt in his eyes.

----

Y/N sat on a table watching Phastos work in awe. His fingers were incased in gold circles making rings on his fingers as he worked. He was rushing to find the answers and find some way to help Druig put the celestial to sleep. If the situation wasn’t so life or death it would have been a beautiful thing to watch.

“I am close to figuring it out.” Phastos glanced up at Ikaris who strolled into the room. The man glanced at everyone in the room before clenching his jaw and swallowed. His eye shifted to a gold color.

“Watch out!” Kingo hollered.

Y/N body tackled Phastos to the ground not caring if she got hit in the process. They needed him more than anything.

Sersi booked it into the room, joining the chaos that was quickly erupting.

“He lied to us he knew about the emergence.” Sersi spoke standing in front of Phastos. Protecting him from Ikaris.

“No.” Kingo said in disbelief. Voicing everyone’s thoughts.

“Ajak told me everything when we left Babylon.”

“If Ajak wanted you to take her place, then why did she choose me?” Sersi swallowed. Deep down she knew the answer and was ready to face it. It was all Y/N needed to know that he did something unspeakable it connected all the dots.

“What have you done?” Sersi whispered when Ikaris made no move to answer her.

“He killed her.” Druig and Y/N said at the same time.

The group went silent.

“You are a pathetic murderer.” Y/N snarled.

It was hypocritical of her to say she knew that, but he killed family. Someone innocent. One of the only family members they had.

“That’s rich coming from you. How many people have you killed?” Ikaris softly spoke his tone apathetic towards her.

Y/N Flinched taking a step toward him. She expected that answer honestly but wasn’t ready for her family’s judgement. Even coming from someone as pathetic as Ikaris. She understood why Druig hated him so much.

“I am not below taking one of a douche canouche.”

With in a blink there was a terrible troll like monster behind the smug man in blue. One twitch of her pinky and it would attack. A wicked smile crossed her lips. She would cross a line to redeem Ajak any day.

“Y/N” Druig called out. He took slow long strides to where she stood.

“Why?” Sersi managed to ask through her tears.

“I had to.”

Y/N screamed out ready to lunge at him. That was a pathetic answer; had to do it? She didn’t know when she grabbed one of her knives, but it was gripped tightly in a way that was useless. It wouldn’t do her any good in a fight against him anyway, but she didn’t care. She was willing to try. Druig wrapped an arm around her waist stopping her movements.

“Stop its not worth it.” He whispered to her. Trying to pull her back in.

This was not a fight they needed now. There was an emergence to stop.

“You will not succeed against me. I will kill everyone of you if I have to.” Those were Ikaris’s last words before he started to walk out.

“Wait. I am going with you.” Sprite finally spoke.

“Sprite no.” Y/N wanted to say more but in a blink of the eye they disappeared.

----

Sersi, makkari, Druig and Y/N started down the volcano that smoke was emerging out of. It was ready to blow at any moment.

“It’s time” Sersi said once it rumbled.

Before Druig could do anything, Ikaris was there knocking him over.

“Ikaris” Y/N warned the man.

“I should have done this five centuries ago” Ikaris spit out ignoring the yells, while pulling Druig up by the throat.

“Druig.” Y/N called out as ikrais flew off with him. Makkari screamed.

They watched as Ikaris threw Druig down. Both of them feeling utterly helpless in the moment. Then watched him attack the ship bringing it down. It was going to crash on them if they didn’t move. Makkari fast as always pulled everyone out of the way from the ship coming down.

“Druigs gone now its over.” Ikaris said from above them.

No, no, this cannot be happening. He cannot be dead. Y/N’ thoughts paced. Their plan was quickly falling apart. She went through rapid emotions before settling on anger. If Makkari hadn’t run off with him she would have attacked. Rage gripped her heart. She wanted to hurt the man for taking so much from them.

The volcano rumbled again before erupting, setting off a minor earthquake. The environment around them began to change quickly.

“I have to get closer to Tiamut. Distract Ikaris” Sersi begged the group.

“My pleasure.” Y/N spoke mincingly in a ready to attack position.

They all took a chance at stopping him from doing killing anyone else. Phastos shot pierced the air missing the man who seemed to be unstoppable. Thena fierce and unstoppable unleashed her weapons each strike doing some damage.

Y/N felt like a bystander desperate to do something, anything. But there were not enough dark patches for her to pull from. Her heart began to thunder against her chest when she realized how powerless she was.

“Y/N use the light.” Thena called out to her from chaos on the other side of the beach.

“I don’t think I can.” Y/N confessed her fingers trembling.

“Try!” The blonde women commanded.

Y/N obeyed the warrior and reached out to the light trying to form anything. Light responded forming a fragile rope of gold it whipped out. As quickly as she had formed it dissipated in to the wind.

She groaned, growing frustrated, and tried again. Shadows merged with the light. Shadowy golden monsters materialized scattering across the beach. Thena let out a whistle at the unexpected power of the girl.

Emerging from the depths of the ocean a deviant appeared in its grotesque form capturing every eye on the beach. Y/N hurled every monster in her arsenal at the creature. It was a useless attempt. Every time her monster got a cut or hit in the deviant mended itself unbothered. He managed to take out Y/N’s army quickly.

It lunged for Ikaris, hungry for blood. It was ready to attack him, and consume his powers. Phastos, however, saved him from an untimely fate.

“Why are we helping him?” Thena asked and Y/N wanted to know the answer as well.

“We can’t let him absorb our powers.” Phastos stayed calm. Ready to fight back.

Thena managed to drag the creature’s attention to the cave across the way. They all called out trying to stop her before Ikaris attacked again. This time Y/N held him down with ropes of black. The flying man was now grounded in front of her.

“Don’t do this Y/N.”

“See Ikaris you took all I had left. Which means I have no will to live, and that right there makes me dangerous.”

Ikaris struggled aging the bounds, but the more he fought the harder the hold she had on him became. The man screamed out in anguish trying to shoot lasers at the girl. They missed and the Shadows covered his eyes blinding him temporarily. Y/N let out a giggle this was rich she had the upper hand, and she was going to take advantage of it. He would have a fate worse then the man who had betrayed her 56 hours ago.

“Guys the world is literally starting to collapse.” Phastos turned her attention to the damage happening around them.

Tiamut began to emerge from the pits of the earth. Y/N wasn’t sure what she expected but the thing was massive. They were losing the fight and it started to scare her a little. They could die and it would have all been for not. Her powers lessened their hold on Ikaris, and he took the moment to escape.

But before he could do anything the celestial began to turn white. Sersi was freezing it, and Ikaris took off angrier than ever.

Y/N laid sprawled out on the beach closing her eyes. Her eyelids were heavy and unable to stay open. Exhaustion clung to her limbs, she was ready to sink in to oblivion and forget that Druig once again slipped through her finger. A single tear escaped trailing down her cheek landing in the grains of sand. She squeezed her eyes tight refusing to feel the pain. Heartbreak had followed her for years and she didn’t want to feel it anymore. Yearned to cut the ties with that pain.

“You know Sunshine, I thought you would be a little more upset.” Druigs voice cut out through her haze. The accent wasn’t as thick as usual there was a softer edge to it.

“Another hallucination great.” She muttered out bitterly. “How long will these ones-“

“Y/N look at me please. I am here. I wont ever leave you again.”

She cracked an eye open and he was there looking down at her. A smug smile on his face and delightfully real. She shot her feet and put a hand on his chest. One of his hands came up and held it there anchoring her hold.

“I thought you left me again.” It was a barley audible whisper. As fragile as glass.

“Never my beautiful beautiful sunshine”

“Hug me please” She begged him, and she never begged a vulnerability she rarely displayed.

Druig didn’t make her ask twice. He pulled her body to him his arms cocooning her to him. His face nestled in the crook of her neck, and she played with the hair at the nape of his neck. They closed their eyes taking in the warmth of the hug.

“You are alive.” She murmured aginst his shoulder. “I forgive you. You are alive - don’t leave me again.”

“Never. I promise” His words tickled her neck.

----

It was a warm afternoon at Ajaks house. Y/N sat on the porch staring out at the grassy field, avoiding the group inside. They were making plans for their future, and she was more lost than ever. Unsure of what to do. Loretta was officially in charge of the empire she had built. Y/N told her exactly how to shake the spiderman and wished her all the luck.

Y/N mindlessly created butterflies letting them fly away to eventually disappear. Part of her wanted to just disappear and do nothing for at least fifty years. Vacation in the Poconos and maybe Greece.

“Ahh there you are sunshine.”

Druig was standing behind her. Hands fisted in his coat pocket. He watched a butterfly fly away before sitting next to her. His blue eyes traced her face trying to figure out what she was feeling.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know what I am going to do now. I gave Loretta the business, and now I have nowhere to call home or go.”

She was anxious and afraid, her heart beating against her ribs. Fear wound its claws through her thoughts. Even though he was standing there and promised to never leave she couldn’t help but wonder if he would abandon her again.

“I was thinking about going with Thena. Join us in finding other Eternals, it will be an adventure. If you don’t want to though I will follow you wherever you go. I never want to be parted from you again. We can make a life anywhere you want.”

Y/N leaned into him laying her head on his shoulder whispering an ok. Druig with a gentle finger under her chin lifted her face to meet his gaze.

“Yeah?” a smirk splayed on his lips.

“Yes.”

With those words Druig picked Y/N up and moved her to his lap. Her knees finding their place on either side of his hips. His large hand cradling the the back of her neck drawing her face down to his. Her breath mingling with his. He nudges her nose with his own. Hesitation dances in his eyes, a delicate balance between longing and fear, as he debated on crossing the line he has yearned to cross throughout his entire existence.

“Dru.” She whispered her tone fragile a secret hidden in her words.

He hums in response.

“I love you.” She confessed.

And in that suspended moment, the world ceased to exist. His lips met hers like a man starved. It was needy and rushed, but it was perfect. His kiss was a wild storm, a tempest that promised her forever. She melted into him pushing her body closer to his, her body seeking solace in him. Her soul was home in his arms. His hand, once firm on her neck, now cradled her face. Fingers slowly threading through her hair. She whimpered, lost in the sensation—the taste of him.

He smiled against her lips at the sound and broke away. Druig kissed down her jaw, a trail of fire left behind each one. Each touch was a vow etched into her skin. And as she caught her breath, she knew: this kiss was the beginning of their forever.

She pulled him back giving him a peck. He groaned wanting more after finally knowing what it was like to have her.

“Dru.”

He hummed again in response, trying to kiss her, but she shook her head. The laugh he missed escaping her.

“Thank you for not hating me and what I did.”

“My beautiful, beautiful sunshine, never. I love you. I always have.”

She let him kiss her again. Ready for their next chapter.

#druig imagine #druig x reader #eternals imagine #eternals x reader #marvel imagine

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loverhymeswith · 10 months

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'Cause I'd Rather Feel Pain Than Nothing at All

Pairing: Rick Flag x GN!Reader

Summary: Inspired by the Three Days Grace song of the same name, this is an angsty little drabble that has been sitting in my drafts for a few months.

Word Count: 829

Warnings: Description of injury, angst

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

Despite your clenched jaw, the lie slips out easily. Still, you avoid eye contact with Rick as he examines your bruised and swollen hand; his uncanny ability to read your emotions won’t serve you well right now. If he thinks for one minute that you’re badly injured, you’ll wind up on desk duty faster than you can say Bloodsport. That is, if either of you make it out of here alive.

“Really?” The word stretches out into the darkness, filling what little space there is between you. “Because it looks pretty damn bad to me.”

With so much cynicism lacing the colonel’s tone, your eyes involuntarily flicker upwards, landing on his familiar worry-worn face, illuminated as it is by the weak orange glow of your twin torches. Shadows dance across his battle-scarred features, eerily emphasising all his sharp curves and edges – a Picasso painting brought to life, albeit temporarily.

Thanks to the explosion rocking the building only minutes earlier, the two of you are trapped in what had once been the ground-floor comms-room, a mountain of rubble outside the door now separating you - somewhat ironically - from your squad of deadly prisoners. Those prisoners are undoubtedly enjoying their fleeting moment of freedom at your expense. If this situation doesn’t kill you, Amanda Waller surely will.

“Really. It’s probably just a sprain.” You tap the cracked GPS device somehow still strapped to your injured wrist and send out a silent prayer that Harley and the others will try to find you. And soon. Much like your ongoing attempt to convince Rick that you’re ok, the signal -- and your hope -- is weak.

The second lie draws Rick’s attention away from your hand, his hazel eyes finding you effortlessly even in the darkness. You quickly subvert your own gaze from the sweat beading across his filthy brow. It’s unfair that in such rotten conditions he still manages to look handsome.

“Let’s leave the diagnosis to the doctors, huh?” Calloused fingers brush across your knuckles. While it’s the ghost of a touch, you still find yourself gritting your teeth against the pain. Something is almost certainly fractured, but your hand is far from the only part of you that is wounded in Rick’s presence.

“If you say so.”

Spite tempts you to point out that hospitals and doctors seem like a distant fantasy when the pair of you might be lost down here forever. After all, any potential rescue attempt rides solely on Harley’s twisted moral compass. Between the two of you, have you shown her enough kindness? Perhaps she’ll leave you here to rot – and who could blame her?

But Rick is an optimist; he sees the good in people while you only see all the ways they can let you down. The colonel is no exception.

Careful not to jostle your hurting wrist, you snatch up one of the torches and aim the beam towards the door. The force of the fallen debris from the floors above has warped the metal in such a fashion that nothing short of another explosion is likely to free it from the frame. And you’re fresh out of nitro.

“Where was your head at?” Rick’s deep voice shatters the cloying silence descending over the room.

“Huh?” For the briefest of moments, you’d forgotten he was here. No easy feat considering his proximity, propped up beside you against the wall.

“Exactly. You’re somewhere else today. Distracted.”

He could be referring to any number of events: how you almost missed wheels-up because you couldn’t drag yourself out of bed; how you forget to check-out Harley’s weapons cache, leading to a meltdown of epic proportions from the princess of crime; how easily the guards got the drop on you.

Rick presses on. “You can talk to me, you know. If something is bothering you-”

“I’m fine.” You cut him off decidedly, your tone leaving no room for argument.

Fine…

Has anyone ever said that four letter word and truly meant it?

From the flash of his eyes, it’s clear Rick doesn’t believe you.

You want to tell him the truth. You want to tell him that yes, your hand might be bad, but you’ve experienced far worse. That the pain you carry around with you every day has dulled your other senses, so much so that a knife to the gut would probably hurt less. But you don’t. Instead, ignoring the familiar and constant hurt throbbing deep in the cavern of your chest, you subtly shuffle away from him.

All things considered, the pain of your injury is a welcome relief, allowing you to focus on something other than the truth.

Because Rick Flag broke your heart without even knowing it. And now you’re stuck here beside him, waiting for almost inevitable death together in this dank, dark room.

Perhaps this was how it was always meant to be.

Joel Taglist: @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @babblydrabbly @heresathreebee @phoenixhalliwell @weallhaveadestiny @lavenderluna10 @immyownlittlebitch @katjnordstrom96 @kirsteng42 @littlefreakingfangirl @s-u-t @xoxabs88xox @lacontroller1991 @mayhem24-7forever

#rick flag #joel kinnaman #the suicide squad #rick flag x reader #does this mean my hiatus is over?

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honeybeefae · 1 year

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The Way I Hate You (Lucien Vanserra x Reader)

KINKTOBER DAY EIGHT: HATE FUCK

Summary// He couldn’t stand you. Not in the Spring Court, not in the Night Court, and not in the Mortal Lands either. You and he had helped Feyre escape, and for some reason, Rhysand had sent you both as emissaries to stay with Jurian and Vassa. He obviously wanted to torture him more because even looking at you made him want to jump off a cliff. His hatred for you came to an all-time high when you were alone in the manor, your nails tapping against the spine of a book while he was trying to write. Something in him snapped, and he just needed to show you how much he hated you.

(It’s been a while since I’ve written, and I truly missed it, and you guys as well! I hope you enjoy this as much as I did. Between the two of us, Eris might have a run for his money with my new-found liking for Lucien ;))

WARNINGS: 18+, smut, hate fuck, rough sex, slapping, fire bondage, degradation, they really hate each other, or do they?

The fire in the grand hearth was roaring as you lounged lazily in the library, legs dangling off the edge of the chair while reading the latest romance novel recommended to you by Vassa. You had lost track of time but from looking at the high moon in the sky, you knew it was quite late. Fortunately, with Jurian and Vassa away on some business, you didn’t have to worry about disturbing them.

However, the one-eyed redhead sitting across from you at the oak desk, flicking through papers at breakneck speed, was another story. Lucien had been a thorn in your side since you had met him. The two of you were constantly at each other’s throats, throwing snide comments and glares at each other whenever possible, so it mattered little to you if you were being too distracting.

You dared to spare a glance at him, the flames from the fire causing light to dance across his golden skin and capture your attention for a moment too long. He looked up and grimaced, his stare full of contempt.

“I know I’m the most handsome man you’ve had the privilege of seeing, but if you could stop ogling me and let me work, I would appreciate it.” Lucien snarked, ignoring how his body reacted to the immediate flush of your cheeks.

“You most definitely are the most egotistical man I’ve ever met, but fortunately for every other woman on this earth and me, we could find someone much easier on the eyes just by walking down the street.” You clipped back quickly with a sarcastic smile, turning back to focus on your book. His gaze was burning into the side of your head, but you refused to rise to his challenge anymore.

Lucien huffed out an angry breath and went back to his paperwork. The tension in the room was thickening with every tick of the clock behind him, it was as if he could feel it in his bones. You were the very bane of his existence, he hated how much you got under his skin, but what truly drove him wild was how with every passing day, his desire for you grew and grew.

He tried to blame it on the loneliness, the stress from the events going on in the world, anything other than the fact that he could actually be attracted to you, but it was getting harder to deny.

It was making him slowly lose his sanity. Lucien had had plenty of other lovers before, but for whatever reason, you were the one who was causing him the most grief. He wouldn’t compare it to what he had with Jesminda, nothing would ever come around like that for him again nor did he want it to. But there was something there that created an itch that he couldn’t get rid of.

And on the other side of the coin, you were no better. At the beginning of your “relationship,” it was easy to nitpick everything he did. The way his voice sounded, his mean comments whenever you spoke or even looked in his direction, and even the way he walked. It was almost too easy how much you hated him, you could have written entire novels about it.

But that loathing turned into something deeper and scarier over time. Where you used to sneer at him at dinner you now found yourself admiring how he licked his lips after tasting a new wine, or how large his hands were compared to the silverware. It had your mind and heart scrambling for dominance as you suddenly tried to get close enough to smell his scent or make a sarcastic remark just so he would look at you.

Whatever had shifted between the two of you was growing every day and you were powerless to stop it. Even Jurian and Vassa had noticed it, both of them making bets on who would strike first though you had no idea.

However, as the clock continued to tick and you began to innocently tap your nails on the spine of your book, the tension grew to a crescendo. Lucien’s fingers gripped the pen tighter and tighter, his jaw clenching in a mixture of rage and lust before he finally slammed the pen down and sent his papers scattering across the floor below.

“Can you please either stop that incessant tapping or simply leave me the hell alone?” He exploded, rising from his chair with his hands planted firmly on the edges of the desk. You jumped in surprise, confusion flashing across your face before swiftly being replaced with anger.

“What the fuck is your problem? I’m not doing anything to you, Lucien. Why don’t you leave me the hell alone?” You retorted, tossing your book beside you in preparation for a fight. “I don’t know what’s up your ass but maybe you should go and-”

Before you could finish what was sure to be a very explicit suggestion, he was in front of you in two strides. That russet-colored eye was smoldering as he gripped a fistful of your hair and yanked, hard. You cried out in surprise and tried to shove him off but he was quick to all but ram you into the nearest bookshelf, pinning you between that and his body.

“You, you are my problem Y/N,” Lucien said through clenched teeth, his lips mere inches from yours. “The way you walk, the way you talk, how every single time I look at you I can’t decide if I want to choke you or fuck you. It’s you.”

Your mind was trying to wrap around everything he just confessed to while your body screamed for more, your gaze flickering between his mouth and his eyes. Was this really happening? Had you fallen asleep while reading or did this man, the man who you equal parts hated and wanted, just admit to feeling just as you did?

His chest was rising and falling in quick succession, waiting for you to flee. However you knew this was a one-time opportunity, that you both just needed to get this out of your systems, and the last thing you were planning on doing was refusing him.

“Why not both?” You breathed out, looking him dead on with a raised brow. “Or does your lackluster performance of emissary duties carry over to the bedroom as well?”

Lucien may have had you pinned but you were the one with the upper hand, his arousal evident as it pressed into your hip. You weren’t going down without a fight and he was going to give you a full-out war.

“Who said anything about a bedroom?” He smirked before flipping you around so that your front was now pressing painfully against the aged books. “Whores like you would be lucky to get a floor.”

Two hands came up the back of your lounging dress and, with less strength than it took to lift a chair, ripped it clear down the middle until it fell to the floor and pooled around your bare feet. You had a flimsy bra and panty set underneath but Lucien got rid of those just as easily, leaving you bare before him.

“So take what you’re given like the good whore I know you are.” He growled into your ear as he grabbed a fistful of your ass, squeezing roughly as he slid down to gather your slickness on the tips of his fingers.

Your eyes squeezed shut at the sensation, knowing you were absolutely soaked, while his taunting laugh sent a shiver down your spine. He didn’t have the gentle touch of a lover. He knew what he wanted, what you needed, and he took your body like his name was carved into it.

“Ah, fuck!” You hissed when two fingers slammed into you, the hand that had held your hair now coming to roughly turn your face to the side so he could see how he made you feel.

Lucien curled them and dragged them back out slowly, his eyes closing briefly to memorize every crevice of your walls before he set a fast pace that had you crying out.

“I’ve barely even started and you are about to cum around my fingers. You really are a desperate thing, aren’t you?” He teased, bending down so that his lips were at the shell of your ear. You glared at him from the side, your breasts aching as he bit down on your lobe. “And here I thought you would put up more of a fight.”

Using his cockiness to your advantage, you had successfully snuck your foot behind his foot and just as he withdrew his fingers for another thrust, you took him off balance and switched your positions.

“And here I thought foxes were supposed to be smart.” You cooed while cupping him through his pants, licking your lips at the sheer girth and length you could feel. He moaned as you squeezed him tightly, your fingers making quick work of his ties that held him up.

“At least you’ve got something to work with, little Lucien.” You smiled while watching his pants fall, his cock standing proudly against his stomach. It was the same color as his skin, with a rosy tip that had already begun to dribble seed, and one of the bigger ones you had seen. He also had a slight happy trail leading down to it, the hair as red as the ones on his head.

His head fell back against the books as you stroked him slowly, licking the hollow of his throat as he tried and failed to come up with a response. Seeing him melt under your hands was like injecting drugs into your veins and you were quickly forgetting you were supposed to hate the man.

You bit down on his neck at the same time as you tighten your grip around the head of his dick, smearing the cum that had collected there across it, and almost buckled from his needy whisper.

“Y/N…” He swallowed thickly, grabbing your chin and forcing you to meet his eye. Both of your cheeks were flushed, the room smelt like sex and embers, and you knew this game wasn’t going to last much longer. “If you want to back out, do it now.”

“I-” You started but he shook his head, pushing off the shelf as you took a few steps back. Lucien threw his shirt off and onto the couch, never breaking eye contact as he started to stalk toward you.

A primal thrill made your stomach flip as you continued to back up, the heat from the hearth wrapping around your legs like a snake. It felt like your entire lower half was on fire and when you spared a glance down you realized it wasn’t the hearth…it was actual bands of fire.

Your head shot back up only to find him right in front of you, your back bumping against the desk. “I’m only going to say this once so I need you to listen.” He ordered, his hands gripping your waist so tight that you knew you would bruise. “We do this once and get this out of our system. I’m not going to be gentle, I’m not going to make love to you. I am going to fuck you as you deserve.”

You could feel yourself grow even wetter from his words, your nipples brushing against his chest as you took in a deep breath.

“This is the only warning I will give you. Take it or leave it.” Lucien growled, the pads of his fingers drumming impatiently against your skin.

The tendrils of fire tightened around your thighs as you bit down on your bottom lip, desperately wanting to know what they would feel like wrapped around your neck.

You needed to know, hating him be damned.

“I want you to fuck me like you hate me.” You whispered, voice hoarse. Lucien’s nostrils flared at your words, his lips tightening into a thin line. “Don’t disappoint me like the other women you’ve bedded.”

Without any warning he forcefully turned you over and bent you across the desk, the oak groaning from the weight of the two of you as he wrapped a fistful of your hair into his hand. He jerked it sharply, your neck craning backward, and lined himself up with your hole.

“I hate you.” He snarled before thrusting into you in one motion, the two of you letting out moans loud enough to shake the entire house. His cock had your cunt stretching to impossible limits, the burn only adding to your pleasure as he set into a savage pace.

Your hands scrambled for something to hold onto, the ink jar spilling across the floor as you grabbed the other edge of the desk. It was biting into your abdomen from the ninety-degree angle but you didn’t complain, your breaths coming out in pants as he grabbed another fistful of your ass before slapping it as hard as he could.

“Such a fucking, ah-” Lucien groaned, throwing his head back in utter bliss as you sucked him back in greedily. “Whore. Look at how this greedy pussy swallows me, like it was made for it.”

“I can’t, fuck, please!” You gasped as he hit the spongy spot inside of you, your vision turning white for a brief moment. “Mother above…”

A dark chuckle came from behind you as he zeroed in on that spot, his balls aching from the need to spill his seed inside of you. He could tell you were getting close from how your walls fluttered around him, but he’d be damned if he came first.

“Is the poor little emissary already close?” He taunted, letting go of your hair in favor of shoving your face into the desk sideways. You struggled against his grip, hating how you were losing the upper hand but also loving how he was making your body feel. “Are you gonna cum all over my cock, Y/N? For a man you despise?”

“Fuck you.” You grunted despite your legs spreading wider for him, letting him go deeper. He noticed, of course, and the smirk on his face grew. “I hate you.”

“That’s not what your cunt is saying, pet,” Lucien said as he looked back down at your union, snaking one of his hands underneath your body so he could play with your clit. “It’s practically begging for me.”

You didn’t respond, couldn’t really, because as soon as you opened your mouth he pinched your clit as hard as he could. The mixture of pain and pleasure made a guttural scream rip from your chest, oddly sounding like his name, as an orgasm wrenched throughout your body.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You chanted as you rose to your tiptoes, your juices coating his cock as well as the floor as wave after wave of rapture flowed from your head to your toe.

Lucien grabbed your waist harshly and made sure to fuck you as hard as he could, the desk scraping across the floor as he followed close behind you. The fire wrapped around your legs grew so hot that you winced, feeling it burn into your skin, but you could care less.

“Take it, little whore.” He roared while spilling inside you, his hair sticking to the sides of his face from the sweat that coated his body. “Oh, Y/N, fuck…”

Even his cum felt like liquid fire, warming you up from the inside out as you came down from the best orgasm you had ever had. Lucien’s heavy breathing slowly came down as you started to wiggle away from the overstimulation, his hand shaking as he slowly pulled out of you.

And although he would never tell you this, he burned the image of your cunt dripping his cum into the back of his mind. It took every ounce of his control not to collect it on his fingers and shove it in your throat.

You gingerly raised up on your arms, your entire body sore, before turning around to face him directly. Both of you look like you just had the fuck of your lives. Hair disheveled, cheeks flushed, and your bodies almost glowing from sweat.

The room was now silent save for the clock that was still ticking. He shamelessly looked you up and down, admiring his handy work, while you did the same. After a few moments, you cleared your throat to get him to look back up at you.

“I suppose that wasn’t the worst time I’ve had in my life.” You mused, looking down at your legs that now had red, raised swirls around them. “Though your form needs some work.”

“I would thank you but like always, I did most of the work.” Lucien grinned, crossing his arms over his chest and standing tall. “It was good enough for a one-time fuck.”

A small laugh bubbled from your chest as you shook your head and walked past him to gather your tattered clothes, hips swaying in temptation. His eye followed like you were his favorite dinner, watching as you began to make your way towards the door.

When you reached the door handle you stopped and turned to look at him over your shoulder, throwing him a very sultry stare as you said, “Imagine what we could improve with two, fox boy.”

He inhaled sharply, his dick jumping to attention as he imagined all the different ways he would claim you, as you gave him a wink and left him to his own devices. Lucien ran a hand over his face at the situation as a whole, glancing at the scattered papers, spilled ink, and general mess left behind by you.

He hated you, hated everything about you, and if tonight was any indication…he needed to hate fuck you every day to make sure you knew it.

And you felt the same way.

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virtualvault · 6 months

Text

What Good Girls Get

Pairing: Switch! Marc Spector x Sub!reader x Dom!Layla El-Faouly

Summary: While Layla is away, Marc wants to play. Being the good girl you are, you reject his advances and she rewards you while Marc is left to face the consequences.

Warnings: Dom/ Sub dynamics, polyamory, punishment, brat!marc, dirty talk, praise kink, degradation, rough sex, sex toys, strap-ons, squirting, oral(f) receiving, oral(m) receiving, pet names, fingering, begging, spitting, slapping, aftercare, cuddles(Let me know if I missed anything:))

Word Count: 4.5k

A/N: This is only my second fic so I'm still working on getting better at exposition and stuff but I'm actually really proud of the smut and dialogue in this one. As always, feedback is welcome and encouraged. Enjoy!!

"We shouldn't. Layla told us we can't fool around while she's gone." you whine as you lay on the bed, Marc hovering above you. His face is buried in your neck while he plants sloppy kisses across your skin. You do your best to stand your ground but make no move to try and get him off you.

"Marc, I'm serious. Did you see the look in her eyes? She really meant it. I don't know about you, but I don't want to get on her bad side. We just got off punishment for the kitchen incident." It was quite a punishment too, but to be honest you deserved it. A few days ago, Layla had gone out to get dinner while Marc graciously offered to stay behind and help you finish preparing the dessert you were making for your friend's birthday. His help soon turned into a distraction as he started grabbing at you and pulling you against him, despite your determination to focus on the task at hand.

It started with Marc innocently feeding you a few of the strawberries you were cutting up and by the time Layla returned he had you on your knees, his dick covered in whipped cream, and you eagerly cleaning it off with your tongue. She had forbidden you two to touch yourselves or one another for the rest of the week as punishment and didn't let either of you out of her sight. She knew that would lead to more trouble.

That's why when she had been called to attend an event that would require her to stay across town overnight, she was hesitant. If it were just you, she wouldn't have worried. You're always on your best behavior. Unless Marc is there. He's always the instigator. You can count on one hand all the times you've been punished for something that didn't involve Marc. You craved Layla's approval, needed her to be proud of you. Marc made that incredibly difficult, though. Despite your better judgement, you almost always gave in. He had this hold over you that made him impossible to resist. Especially when Layla isn't there and you miss her.

Marc misses her desperately when she's gone as well, and that's part of the reason he acts out. It also doesn’t help that he is a brat through and through. For him, all the rules fly out the window the moment she steps out the door. He loves to rile her up. Lately he's been pushing his luck and punishments have been getting increasingly severe. Instead of turning soft at the end like Layla has a habit of doing, especially when it comes to you, she's started implementing 'no touching rules', ruined orgasms, edging with no release, withholding pleasure, etc. He also just can't help himself when he gets you all alone. It's like a switch flips in his brain and he just wants to pounce on you. Make you misbehave like he does. He knows you're Layla's good girl and he loves to see you turn into a dirty little slut for him.

"C'mon, it's not like she just ran out to the store, she won't be home until tomorrow. There's no way she'll find out." He continues to kiss down your neck and palms at your chest, making you arch your back.

"Yes, she will. I don't know how she does it, but she can always tell."

"That's because you can't lie to save your life, baby. You know, you really need to work on your poker face." he jests, and you shoot him a glare. But you can't help the small smile that forms on your face because you know he's right. If you're ever hiding something, you distance yourself from Layla, unable to even look her in the eyes. When she finally makes you, whatever you're hiding comes spilling out of you, completely out of your control. And if it had something to do with Marc, which is usually the case, he gets in trouble as well. It's detrimental to you both.

" You really don't want to?" Marc asks. He gives you puppy dog eyes, pulling out all the stops to try and get you to give in.

"Of course, I do." You play with the hem of his shirt, trying to ignore the way you feel his bulge against your thigh.

"I just really don't want to disobey her. We don't have to wait too long; she'll be back tomorrow. And who knows, maybe she'll even reward us for being good. It's been a while." You offer, trying to convince not only him but yourself to resist the temptation.

"It's been a while for me. She rewards you all the time. It's not fair." He pouts and pinches your sides, making you giggle.

"That's because you actually have to behave for that to happen, dummy. You just have to learn to follow the rules. And tonight is the perfect opportunity to try it out." you stroke his hair reassuringly. It would do him some good to practice some restraint.

"I'll try." he says, with absolutely zero sincerity in his voice.

"How about we go watch a movie instead? She never said we couldn't cuddle." He nods, smiling at you innocently enough to convince you he has given up. You cup his face and pull it to yours, and you plant a soft kiss on the tip of his nose. He stands, helps you up, and you both head to the living room.

Marc manages to keep his hands to himself through most of the film. He has you held against him, fitting snuggly in his side. You rest your head on his shoulder, enjoying the safe and warm feeling he provides. You even start to doze off, but awaken when Marc shifts, telling you he's heading to the bathroom. In his absence, you lay your head down on the cushion. Rolling over on your stomach, you feel yourself succumb to the drowsiness again. A few minutes later, you are startled awake when you feel the couch dip, and a weight settle on your backside. You curiously turn your head to find Marc straddled across your thighs. You try to wriggle away, but he puts his full weight on your back and effectively stops you. He starts kissing and licking down the back of your neck.

“Marc, you were doing so well. Let’s just go to bed.” you plead.

“I'd love to take you to bed.” he responds, then starts softly nipping at your skin.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” You feel him grin against you and it sends tingles across your skin.

“C'mon it’s not like I'm going to tell. And you’ll have until tomorrow evening to get yourself together enough to face Layla. You can keep one little secret, can’t you?” You are already putty in his hands and let wanton moans fall from your lips at the warmth of his mouth on your skin and his hands grabbing at your sides.

“I want to so bad. I just… I wanna be a good girl.” you whine.

"Well, it's nice to know one of you respects me.” Layla chimes in, and you both jump, startled by her surprise entrance. Neither of you had heard her come in. You freeze, and so does the man above you. A feeling of dread falls over you but is overtaken by a feeling of delight when your eyes land on your beautiful girlfriend. She’s still wearing the outfit she wore to the event, and she looks breathtaking.

"I managed to find a way to come home early to the loves of my life and this is what I find. Did I not make myself clear before I left?" She scolds, but there is a slight playfulness to her tone.

Marc, still refusing to look at her, lifts himself into a sitting position. You glance back at him and see the look of contemplation on his face. He could play this one of two ways. He could apologize profusely and get on his hands and knees begging for forgiveness, or he could stand his ground and see how far he can push his luck. Being the brat he is, he obviously chooses the latter. Not even bothering to answer her, he flips you over and Layla rounds the coffee table to stand in front of you both. He moves his eyes to hers as he starts grabbing at you and sliding your shirt up, exposing your breasts. Layla’s silence is deadly, yet the look on her face is eerily calm.

He grabs your bare chest and starts tweaking your nipples, and you whimper at the sensation. You don’t want to upset her, but it just feels so good. You rub your thighs together trying to relieve some of the pressure building in your core.

Neither of your partners notice as both sets of eyes are locked in a stare, waiting to see what the other will do next. The mischievous grin on Marc's face makes you nervous. You know he’s playing with fire and isn’t considering the consequences. But as always, his behavior manages to stoke the flames in the pit of your stomach. You don’t know what it is, the thought of testing Layla's patience yourself never crosses your mind. But seeing her reaction when Marc does it makes you want him to keep going, even though you know he’ll pay for it later.

You grab Marc’s wrists, not even sure if it’s to stop him or urge him on and you shoot Layla a pleading look, silently begging her to do something. Marc finally looks away as he brings his mouth down to one of your breasts. He latches onto your nipple and rolls it between his teeth. You let out a squeal and squeeze your eyes shut.

“Do you want him to stop?” You don’t even hear what Layla says as Marc's other hand travels down your stomach and lands on your clothed mound.

“Look at me, angel. I asked you a question. Do you want Marc to stop?” Trying to steady your voice as his fingers slip into your underwear, dragging up and down your wet folds, you whimper, “It feels good but…but I don’t want to disobey you.” She gives you a soft smile and wears a proud look on her face, causing a warmth to bloom in your chest. She walks towards you and bends down so her face is level with yours.

As she starts petting your hair she coos, “Of course you don’t. Because you’re my good girl, aren’t you?” you preen at her words. No matter how good Marc’s touch makes you feel, nothing compares to Layla's praise. With a newfound strength and determination to prove her right, you push Marc’s hand out of your pants and shove his face away. He watches you cover your chest, making it impossible for him to continue, and he huffs.

He sits up and contemplates his next move. He was really banking on you giving in and being able to test your girlfriend's patience together. Even when he's facing punishment himself, he loves seeing you endure one too. Seeing Layla's little angel get in trouble turns him on in a way he can’t describe. But it looks like you had more willpower than he thought, and he’ll be taking this one on his own.

As a last-ditch effort, he blurts out “She started it.” You gasp, knowing that’s a bold-faced lie.

He continues, “She was on me the moment you walked out the door. But you know how irresistible she is when she begs, I couldn’t help it. I’m just doing what you would’ve done.” He leers back at her, trying to stand firm. Layla sighs, not believing him for a second. She's getting frustrated. As much as she hates it when you two break the rules, she hates when you lie about it even more. She usually lets you off easier if you come forward and tell her what really happened. You always do but Marc has the habit of dodging the truth until she drags it out of him. It’s a nasty habit that she’s determined to break, and now is the perfect opportunity.

“He’s lying! He was trying to fuck me all night! I told him you’d be mad, but he wouldn’t listen.” You match the glare he shoots you, and he grabs your thigh firmly in warning, not appreciating the outburst. But you weren’t going to roll over on this one. You had worked really hard to finally find the strength to not give in for once and you’d be damned if you went down for this with him. You want your reward for being a good girl and you aren’t going to let him ruin that.

“You believe me don’t you, Lay?” You look up at her through your lashes and give her the sweetest look you can muster up. The nickname brings a smile to her face, and she replies, “Of course I do, baby.”

“But” Marc starts, and Layla raises her brow at him, daring him to keep testing her patience. He backs down immediately, hanging his head in defeat.

“Go lay on the bed sweetheart.” She instructs and leans down, connecting her mouth with yours. Marc, enjoying the show, subconsciously starts stroking your thigh but she is quick to swat his hand away. “You, go stand at the foot of the bed. And keep your hands to yourself.” she commands, and he follows you into the bedroom, dragging his feet.

He stands in front of you now, arms crossed in annoyance, and you smirk at him. “Thanks a lot.” he sneers.

“Hey, I said to be patient and we’d get rewarded. Maybe this will teach you a lesson.” you say smugly, and he rolls his eyes.

Layla enters, grabbing the chair from the desk and placing it in front of the bed. She makes Marc strip. She then ties up his hands and orders him to sit but leaves him unrestrained otherwise. She removes her jacket and proceeds to strip you, softly caressing your sides as she does, and your skin heats up under her touch. Shifting you, she lays you at the end of the bed, parallel to the headboard, and gives Marc a full view of her body and yours. Normally he'd be thankful but under these circumstances it's torturous.

She makes her way down your body, nipping and sucking at your skin. She's always thorough, taking the time to admire every inch of you. After leaving your stomach and thighs covered in love bites, and running her tongue over your marked skin, she buries her head between your thighs. She's gentle and diligent but she doesn't rush. Doesn't eat you out in a frenzy like Marc tends to do. She knows your body better than you do and knows just what to do to have you fall apart on her tongue.

She has to hold your waist down as you writhe on the bed. Your sultry moans and desperate cries have Marc involuntarily bucking his hips into the air, begging for relief. Before you know it, she has you cumming hard and you grind your hips against her mouth as she sucks on your clit, helping you ride the waves of pleasure. Giving you a second to catch your breath, she then positions you on the edge of the bed, exposing you to Marc, and takes her place behind you. She wraps her legs around yours and uses them to spread your thighs. Her movements begin slow, like before, and she starts by gently circle your clit with her fingers. The torturous speed has you crying out for more. Wanting to give you whatever your heart desires, she dips her fingers into you. They slip in easily, and each delicious drag of her digits against your walls has you bucking your hips against her hand.

Your arousal starts to form a ring around her fingers and drips onto the floor. The sight has Marc falling to his knees in front of you, face nearing your center. Layla gives him a warning look, but she can feel you getting close, so she doesn’t want to stop. Then she gets an idea. She pushes faster against that sweet spot inside you and matches that rhythm as she starts rubbing your swollen bud. Mesmerized by the sight, Marc leans his head against your thigh.

“No touching.” Layla commands and he nods. He doesn’t move any closer, practicing more restraint than he ever has in his life. She starts nipping at that spot under your ear and it has you squirming. You feel that familiar pressure building that you didn’t feel with your previous climax and smile, realizing what’s about to happen, and your whole body tenses. “I'm cumming” is all you can say before you start spasming and you explode all over his face. Marc flinches slightly at the unexpected splash of your arousal. It just keeps streaming out of you and he quickly opens his mouth wide, groaning as your sweet nectar coats his tongue. He gives Layla a pleading look, and she knows what he wants.

“You can clean off her thighs.” she says, loving the hungry look on his face. He laps at your drenched thighs and savors the taste that he's been dying for all night. You let out a satisfied purr and you eyes fall closed, feeling soothed by the warmth of his tongue. When he's finished, he takes a moment and just stares at your sex. Before he can stop himself, he lurches forward to indulge in your arousal from the source. Before he can reach you, though, Layla yanks his head back by his hair, clicking her tongue at him.

“Still don’t want to listen, huh?” She moves from behind you and drags him back to the chair. You already miss her warmth, but your excitement grows as she goes to open the trunk you keep on the corner of the room and pulls out some rope and a harness with the familiar pink silicone attached to the base. Your heart starts beating faster and you bite your lip, thrumming with excitement at what’s coming next. She inches the chair closer to the bed, and Marc is now just inches away. She ties him to the chair now, ignoring his grumbling. With her guidance, you are now on your hands and knees, head halfway off the end of the bed, now face to face with Marc. As Layla puts on the strap-on, you can’t help but smile at the pout on his face. You've never seen him this frustrated before and you would feel bad for him if it didn't turn you on so much.

Your girlfriend situates herself behind you, kissing up your spine, and you pull her up so her mouth meets yours and you moan at the saccharine taste of her. When she breaks the connection, her mouth finds your ear and she whispers, “You’re doing so good for me. My obedient girl.” The comment makes your heart swell. You hum, looking her in the eyes, and whisper “I love you.” She nuzzles her face against yours she affectionately replies, “I love you too, angel."

She sits back onto her haunches and rubs the silicone up and down your folds, each flick against your clit making your breath hitch. As she slides the length in to the hilt, you cry out and she sets a maddeningly slow pace. You're about to beg for more, but she already knows what you want. She slowly pulls out to the tip and then slams back into you, and begins giving you those hard, deep thrusts you crave.

After a while, your arms give out underneath you and you fall onto your chest. The arch of your back gives her a delicious view of your ass and she gives it a quick slap. You whine for more and she continues, landing multiple hits to both your cheeks and thighs and you squeal in delight. When she's done, she grabs firmly onto your hip with one hand and the other comes up to settle on the back of your neck and she pulls you back to meet her thrusts.

With your face now just inches away from Marc, you stick your tongue out, unable to resist the temptation to taunt him. It's a pretty juvenile thing to do, you admit, and can’t help the giggle you let out at the sight of the frustration bubbling up inside him, the aggravation showing clear as day on his face. Before you can pull your tongue back in your mouth, he leans forward and spits fast and hard, some landing in your open mouth, and some on your cheek. You gasp, but your surprise quickly morphs into a pathetic whine, loving the taste of him. You drag your tongue over your lips and the surrounding area, trying to get to the spatter that missed your mouth. A satisfied smirk appears on his face, and he mutters, "filthy fucking slut." You whine at his words, and it has you clenching down onto the silicone filling your cunt.

Layla, however, was not amused. She shoves your face down onto the mattress and leans over you to deliver a harsh slap to Marc's face. He moans at the contact, relieved to finally get some sort of stimulation. Before the sting can even settle over his skin, she delivers another. Then, she removes her weight from you and pulls your head up once more.

“That wasn’t very nice, was it baby?” You don’t respond, honestly wishing he'd do it again.

“Oh, you liked it didn’t you, naughty little thing.” You moan at her teasing and look Marc in the eyes, whining, "I want something in my mouth.”

He jolts forward, wanting to break free and give you what you want. An anticipative look crosses his face, and he hopes Layla will make him part of your reward.

“Oh, I'm sorry baby. Here you go.” Determined to keep Marc out of this, Layla hooks her fingers into your mouth. She chuckles at Marc's reaction as she sees his shoulders slump, clearly disappointed. You immediately wrap your lips around her digits and he zeros in on your movements, imagining it was him in your mouth instead.

Her thrusts become more brutal, each one knocking the thoughts right out of your head. You feel yourself mentally slipping, unable to form even one coherent sentence. All you can do is babble nonsense, hoping she understands how close you are to your release. Layla drags your head up by your hair and you face Marc again, mouth open and drooling down into the sheets. He's seen that look before and he knows you're right on the edge. He looks you right in the eyes and whispers, " Do it, baby. Cum." He's not even sure you heard him, but your eyes immediately roll to the back of your head, and you start shaking. Layla holds you against her, knowing you love the closeness and skin to skin contact when you fall apart. All you can feel is white hot pleasure and you're crying out, mouth open in a silent scream as you gasp for breath. You don't even have time to come down from your climax before Layla starts pounding into you again, hard and fast. She holds you down, making you cum again and again.

When she can tell you've had enough, she stops her movements but stays planted inside you to the hilt, knowing you don’t want to feel empty just yet. She runs her hands all over you, trying to bring you back to her and help steady your breathing. You can't tell how much time has passed but when you're finally conscious of your surroundings again, the first thing you see is Marc's pitiful form in front of you. You want to help him. His angry red tip looks painful, and you actually start to feel bad for him. You somehow muster up the strength to reach an arm out to him and he looks at you lovingly. You were just fucked into oblivion, but you still want to make sure he feels good. It makes him smile and he desperately wants to pull you into his arms.

“Can I touch him, please?” You look over your shoulder and give Layla your best puppy dog eyes, hoping she'll cave like she always does when you look at her like that. She arches her brow at you and asks, “Am I not enough, sweetheart?”

“No! You are!” you reply frantically, immediately regretting your words. You continue, “Just look at him. So pathetic. I think he's learned his lesson.” He's been waiting so long and he’s so frustrated he can feel tears starting to form in his eyes. “Please. I'm so sorry. I'll behave. I promise." he begs.

She sighs, feeling conflicted. She knows she has pushed him hard but he did deserve it. She feels herself turning soft at that needy look in his eyes and concedes. She knows what he really wants. He wants one of you to ride him until he sees stars. This is still a punishment, however, so she decides to give him another form of relief.

Leaning down and kissing the crown on your head, she checks in, making sure you're not too overworked. She really gave it to you hard and wants to make sure you don't overdo it. "Are you sure? You look a little worn out." You're touched by her concern but nod eagerly.

"Go ahead baby. He can have your mouth." The sigh of relief that leaves Marc makes you want to laugh. You turn back to him, and your outstretched hand moves to caress his face. He leans into your touch, and kisses at the palm of your hand. You slide it down off his face and Layla helps you to your knees. He makes the most pitiful noise when you take him into your mouth, finally feeling the relief he's waited hours for. You have him cumming in just a few minutes and he thanks both of you profusely.

You're all exhausted, but that doesn't stop them from loving on you. Layla goes to draw a bath while Marc picks you up off the floor, placing soft kisses all over your face. He carries you to the bathroom, where Layla begins to do the same as Marc places you in the tub. The feeling of their love wraps you like a warm blanket, relaxing your mind as the bath water relaxes your tired muscles. You're half asleep when you all finally pile into bed, cuddling up close to one another. Layla lays you in the middle of them the middle and they wrap their arms around you and each other. Not having the energy tonight, you and Marc will be sure to give her a proper 'welcome home' in the morning.

#moon knight #moon knight smut #marc spector #marc spector x reader #marc spector smut #marc spector x layla el faouly #marc spector x reader x layla el faouly #steven grant #jake lockley

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captainlunaxmen · 5 months

Text

Just a Little More

Part 2 of this

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

This is a repost since the old blog doesn't work anymore. 🥰

As I open my eyes, I immediately recall the events of the night:the party, Billy flirting with me, taking a drunk Steve home, drunk Steve confessing his interest in me...

I look beside me, finding Steve still asleep, so I stand up, get dressed back in my own clothes, and decide to go downstairs and make some breakfast.

I open every cupboard in the kitchen looking for some flour and eggs so I can make pancakes and finally focus on something else and not Steve fucking Harrington admitting that he likes me... me.

-------------

As I'm flipping the pancakes on the pan, I hear footsteps nearing.

"Oh... hey" Steve says, I can hear a hint of surprise in his voice.

"Morning, sunshine" I say, slightly mocking him.

"My head is pounding" he complains, holding his head with a hand.

"There on the table is a glass of water and an aspirin, try it" I say.

"Thanks"

I keep on making the pancakes, when he walks next to me.

"You read my mind" he says eyeing the food in front of him. "I woke up with an insane need of pancakes"

I laugh as he takes one and put it all in his mouth.

He doesn't seems to remember last night... it breaks my heart a little, because maybe... maybe he didn't actually mean what he said.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Yeah" I quickly answer "Yeah, I'm fine. How about you?"

"Headache aside? Good... I must've drank a lot last night, uh?"

"Yeah, and rather quickly." I tell him, "how did you get so drunk? And why?"

"I don't know..." he mutters, "guess I was jealous and lost it"

"Jealous of what?" I ask, not meeting his eyes.

He gently takes my hands away from the pan and the spatula, he makes me stand in front of him so I can look him in the eyes.

"Did I... did I say anything... last night?" He tentatively asks.

"Like what?" I ask back.

I really want to see of he has enough courage to say it again... if it was true.

He stares at me, hands still holding mine.

He just stares at me until a sweet smile appears on his face. He leans down and, without saying a word, he kisses me.

It catches me a little by surprise, but I kiss him back immediately.

The kiss is sweet and gentle, his hands find their way to cup my face and mine are on his chest.

We kiss and kiss and kiss until...

"Mh, shit!" I turn to the pan seeing some burnt pancakes.

"Oops" Steve mocks a little and I jokinlgy glare at him. "You got a little distracted there"

"I wonder why" I say back. "Well... we know which pancakes you will eat"

"Oh c'mon" he laughs.

I put everything back and take the plate with the non-burnt pancakes and place it on the table.

"So... I did say something last night" he states with a chuckle.

"You did" I smile at him "I wasn't sure you meant it so I didn't say anything"

"Of course I did." He reaches out to take my hand "every word... whatever words I said"

I laugh and squeeze his hand.

"You said that Billy and I were too close, that you really wanted to see me in your clothes, then proced to complain because you 'missed it' and.. that I am the girl you have your eyes on"

"That... that sounds like me, yes" he laughs, "it is true... you and Billy were really too close"

"That's why you got drunk?" I chuckle.

"Yeah... pathetic, isn't it?"

"A little. What about the rest?" I ask.

"Well, isn't it obvious that I meant that part too?" He shyly looks down at the food in his plate.

"You needed to get drunk to say something?" I tease him.

"Unfortunately" he shrugs "I wasn't sure you felt the same and... and I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable or anything." He explains.

"You could never, Steve"

"Are you sure?"

"Of course" I smile. "I do like you too, you know. And... for the record... it was Billy who was too close, I was trying to get away" I chuckle.

"Yeah... I should've figured"

"That you should've" I brightly smile at him and he does the same.

"How... how about you show me how good you look on my clothes?" He says casually with a small smirk on his face.

"What if they don't look as good as you think?"

"You'll just have to take them off... I could help" he winks and I fell my cheeks warming at the insinuation.

"Alright... that's how you wanna play it?" I tease back.

"Exactly"

I laugh rolling my eyes and stand up walking towards the stairs.

"You coming?" I ask.

He looks at me stunned, but quickly moves out of the chair to grab my hand and drag me upstairs.

-------------

"I'm gonna go outside" I tell Steve.

"Of course, love" he laughs at me, kisses my forehead, "I'll say hi to the team and I'll be right with you"

"Don't worry about, take your time" I smile at him. "I'll be fine"

"I know, my non-partylover" he winks.

I laugh and make my way to the back yard of the house.

I take a deep breath and admire the garden of whoever this house belongs too.

"I knew I would've found you here" a voice calls behind me.

I turn around.

"Oh, hi Billy" I politely greet him.

"Hey there yourself" he walks towards me "Harrington left you alone again, uh?"

"He's just saying hi to his friends, he'll be here soon" I answer. "How's Max?"

"Oh she's fine, but-"

"I haven't seen her in a while, could you tell her I said hi?" I interrupt him.

"Sure..." he says.

Before he could speak again, Steve's arm is around me, startling me a little.

"Hey, there." He cheerfully greets.

"Harrington" Billy nods at him.

"Are you bothering my girl again, Hargoves?" Steve fakes confusion.

"Your girl, uh?" Billy smirks.

"That's what I said"

"Well... took you long enough, King Steve." He laughs, "Don't let her go. She's a catch."

"I don't plan on it." Steve answers proudly.

"I'll you at school then" he glare at Steve "see you soon" he smiles at me and finally walks away, back inside.

"Too close again?" I tease him.

"Definitely. He needed to know you're mine now" he says wrapping both his arms around me.

"Oh, but you should've let him get closer though" I laugh.

"Why?"

"So he would've noticed all the freaking hickeys you left" I playfully scold him.

"Nah... they're for me." He smirks and kisses me... a little more.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things

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theladybarnes · 7 months

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CRIMSON AND CLOVER: CHAPTER TWO

"There is no shame in running.”

▸ summary: winter brings the holidays, vacations, and new worries ▸ characters: robin buckley, eddie munson, & steve harrington 💕 (ft. dustybuns) ▸ word count: 10.2k ▸ warnings: SMUT (18+MINORS DNI) unprotected p&v smut, angst, & fluff ▸ series masterlist

NOVEMBER

“Okay, honey, gonna need you to ease up on the—shit that was a stop. Break!”

You pressed down on the break gently, forcing the car into a stop at the side of the road. Frowning over at your boyfriend. “Can you please stop nagging my driving?”

“Nagging? Baby, you missed that stop sign!”

Glancing over your shoulder, you look back to the sign. “I did not!” You grumbled, shifting back to look at the road. “I just did a California pause.”

Steve scoffed a bit, trying to stop the smile that wanted to creep its way in.“Yeah, well, that California pause is gonna get us an Indiana ticket.”

“I wish the two of you would settle on who’s actually driving.” Robin said softly from the backseat. A glance in the rearview mirror showed you a very nervous Robin who was currently covering her face with her hands.

“I am driving! Steve is shutting up now.” You said with a roll to your eyes. The house of the party was only a couple blocks away now and Steve’s worrisome attitude would soon be over.

To be fair, the two of them had been a little on edge tonight. It had taken nearly all afternoon to convince the both of them to come out with you tonight. Jason Carver was hosting a party during fall break and you needed a mindless distraction from all the school work you’ve been diving into lately.

Naturally, they had good reasons to be so reluctant about going.

Robin for the fact that most of the people there did not like her due to her status in band. And also because no one she’d actually like to talk with would be there.

As for Steve, well, he wasn’t too keen on the idea of going to a party at former teammate's house. After the events that happened your first year here, it was clear he was pushed out of the team’s good graces after his fallout with Tommy.

But after promising that you’d make sure they had a good time in your group's own fun way, they finally gave in.

“You know, I really don’t mind driving us.” Steve said softly, trying again to gain back some control.

Holding in a tired sigh, you reached over and placed your hand on his thigh. Squeezing at the limb tenderly. “Honey,” you said, stealing his own nickname for you. “Just relax, and let me take care of us okay? We’re almost there.”

A quick glance showed you Steve slightly taken back by your slight dominance.

“Why did I like that so much?..” he asked himself, but sat back anyway, resting his hand on top of yours. Robin peeking out from her hands let out a small laugh as she leaned closer towards the two of you.

“I thought by now you’d have convinced your old man to send over another car. Didn’t you complain the other day that he just got a new car for himself?”

The bitter memory of your phone call back home brought a sour look to your face. It was supposed to be a regular end of the week check in but it turned into their big recent purchases.

“He’s pissed I’ve ruined another car.” You pouted. “I tried to convince him it was because of the mall fire but he said since I didn’t pick a safe enough parking spot, it was on me. Which means I’m unfortunately carless once again.”

“Not completely,” Steve butt in, squeezing at your hand again. “I’m willing to pick you up and drop you off anywhere.”

“And me too, right, dingus?” Robin asked, looking over at her friend. Steve waved his other hand side to side. Acting like was debating whether or not to agree with her. She settled for slapping him upside the head lightly.

“I’m still debating on that,” he grumbled, rubbing the back of his head. “Trouble here though, should know she’s set for life on rides.”

“Rides that I’ll occasionally get to drive on?” You said playfully, watching as he laughed hesitantly with a small head shake.

“Still debating that too.”

“It makes sense to take rides from Steve anyway.” Robin pointed out. “You two are together for most things anyway.”

You turned the wheel down the next block, not really sure on how you should reply. But honesty always seemed to be the best way to go most of the time. “I’ll need to drive on my own eventually.” you shrugged. “Especially if things are different next year..”

The weight of those last words hit the car instantly and you tried not to physically wince at the small silence that followed after it.

“Right.” Steve said soon after, squeezing at your hands. Almost reassuringly. “It will be different..next year.”

Glancing to your right, you watched as he gave you a small smile before looking out the front window. “Stop!” he said suddenly, making you slam on the break a bit. The three of you jerked forward before falling back against the seat.

From the passenger rear view mirror, you could see a golden looking cat strutting away from the car.

“Well that guy came out of nowhere.” you said sheepishly watching as both of their heads turned to look at you incredulously. Nervously, you adjusted the top of your jacket, looking back to the road. “Anyway, Steve was distracting me. So now that he’s stopped we can finally get back to business.”

“Back to business?” Robin asked as she settled back into her seat again. “You mean you back to carelessly driving while Steve tries not to go into a panic attack?”

“Yes, but only to the second part.” Turning on the left hand signal, you checked over your shoulder to the road before setting back to the party. “I am getting us to this party, in one piece, and you two will enjoy yourselves and thank me later for having such a good time.”

You glanced quickly at Steve, raising a brow at him. “Right, Steve?” you asked, looking for a little back up. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times before he finally nodded his head. Absently giving you a thumbs up as he glanced at the road.

“Yeah, exactly.”

“Sure,” Robin agreed. “We’ll have a good time. If we don’t die on the way there.”

You ignore the jab and keep on with your positivity. “Again, in one piece and a good time!”

Steve thankfully sensing your slight distress held onto your hand. Rubbing at the back with his thumb. “Ease up, Buckley. Trouble’s right. Plus we’re not even that far from the place anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Robin waved off. “But if I could just say one more thing then I’ll keep quiet back here.”

“What is it?” You asked tiredly.

“You just missed our right turn.”

“..Fuck.”

Things thankfully did turn around the minute you guys entered inside the house.

Robin was first to set off in a different direction when she caught sight of an old friend from band that had graduated previously. Leaving you and Steve to mingle your way through the crowd of kids. Surprisingly, there were a couple of old faces that seemed to be pleased to see their former classmate again.

“So wait, the two of you were actually in the mall that night?” asked Anna Jacobi. Her Purdue sweater had a distracting splotch of beer on the front of it that kept catching your eyes.

“We were.” Steve answered casually, trying to downplay the actual events of the night. “It was pretty crazy. Things got pretty hectic after we got our friends out. Didn’t even have the chance to really see all the damage that had gone on.”

“I heard you guys had to be checked out by paramedics.” Said her date Mark Sutton next. “Did anyone get hurt?”

“Well, we inhaled a lot of smoke and fell a couple of times trying to get up the broken escalator. Some of us had to get patched up.” You waved off, trying not to think about the ‘simple’ patch work like El’s leg, Jonathan’s face, and almost the entirety of Steve’s body.

“I swore I saw Harrington with a shiner for like a week afterwards.” Said someone from the back, making you think you almost slipped up on that last part of your thoughts.

Instinctively, you turned your body closer to Steve’s. Almost attempting to shield him from their line of curious questions. To this day the sight of his bruised and battered body still haunted you. Reminding you that had it not been for Dustin or Erica, the three of you would have faced a lot worse than truth serum.

“Some guard inhaled too much smoke. Then attacked Steve when he thought he was trying to keep him inside.”

From the side you could see Steve gave you a small curious look while the group murmured in astonishment.

“I’m sure the guy won if he was up against Harrington.”

All of you snapped your head towards the source of the voice. Standing in his Indiana State sweater was Tommy Hagan. His legs wobbled a bit as he pushed his way through the small group of people around you guys. A clear sign of how inebriated he was.

“Tommy,” Steve said dryly. “You’re here.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, crossing his arms. “Seeing as I was actually invited and not someone’s plus one.” he smirked as he perched at the edge of the armrest, giving him the chance to look down at you two.

“Speaking of being invited. I don’t remember inviting you over for this conversation. Why don’t you go do something useful like bothering someone else? Or going to take a swim with a slab of concrete?” you said simply, giving Tommy a glare. It’s been months since either one of you have had to put up with him and you weren’t too keen on that changing now.

His smile faltered a bit before he shook it off to smirk at you. “Lovely as ever, Henderson. I’m actually surprised to find you here. With Stevie boy of all people. Would have thought you were done playing guard dog to freaks when he graduated.” he finished, bringing his can of beer up to his lips.

The comment struck a nerve with Steve. He nearly shot up from his seat but seemed to hold back from giving Tommy the full reaction he was looking for. From his side you could see his hand clench up in a fist while the other wrapped around you pulled you in closer.

“Is there any reason why you’re here, Tommy?” Steve asked, not leaving room to humor his inquiries. “Or was bothering us part of your list of things to do tonight?”

The group around you guys slowly seemed to catch onto the animosity, pulling away a bit from the three of you, but not enough so that they’d miss out on the conversation.

“Ooh,” he cooed, smirking down at Steve. “Can’t a guy catch up with his old school chums?”

He looked around the room, trying to get someone to smile at him. “I just want to make my visit back home fun before I head back to school.” He turned back to the two of you, giving a sardonic smile. “That’s something Stevie boy will never have to worry about. He’ll always be here. Stuck in Hawkins, waiting to catch up with us.”

Steve’s face hardened. You started to see red.

“Wow, Tommy, after all this time you’re still so obsessed with what Steve is doing.” Getting up from the couch, you sized him up for a moment as you stood with your hands on your hips. You made sure to throw in a bright smile. “I would have figured you stopped keeping tabs on him a long time ago. Then again, I guess you must be bored and bitter now since Carol dumped you on her way to OSU.”

Finally the smile dropped from Tommy’s face as a scowl took over.

“Listen bitch,” he muttered, pointing a finger at you. “I don’t think you of all people here have room to talk about being dumped. Didn’t you get dumped by Billy after you wrecked his ca–”

The cup of beer is taken out of your hand quickly and thrown into Tommy’s face before you could even react. Steve was up now, moving you to stand behind him as he stepped up to Tommy. “Watch your mouth, asshole.”

“Wow,” he chuckled, wiping his face of any liquid. “Still got some fire in you, I see.” Standing up now, he adjusted his sweater before looking Steve in the eyes. “Why don’t you and I take this outside and settle things once and for all? That is unless you’ve gotten shittier since your fight with Byers..and Hargrove..and I guess we should count the mall security now.”

“Fuck you.” Steve grunted.

The two looked like they were about to start fighting then and there when the sound of a hollering noise came up from behind them.

“Tommy! I’m so glad you made it, man!”

Jason Carver, the party host, pushed his way through the small audience that had formed around you guys to make his way and hug Tommy. He quickly realized the boy had been soaked up in beer and frowned at his shirt before looking between both boys. “Is everything cool here?” He looked more concerned about Tommy than the overall situation.

“Yeah,we’re cool” Steve said calmly, not giving room for the other boy to clue Jason in. “Tommy might need some help keeping dry, though.”

Turning around, he gently placed his hand into yours.

“Come on, let’s get some air.”

Without looking back, he led you out of the living room and out the back door of the house. The backyard was just as busy with buzzing kids, but at least had cool crisp air to give you guys some breathing room to relax from the tense moment.

It wasn’t until you were towards the back gate of the house that Steve let go to lean against the wood wall. Letting out a tired sigh while he kept his gaze down at the floor.

“Are you okay?” you asked softly.

“No…I’m not okay.”

“Please don’t be upset.” Reaching out, you cupped the sides of his cheeks and tried to get him to look at you. “Tommy’s an asshole. He’s just trying to get a rise out of you. Out of both of us.”

“He’s right though..I’m still here. Stuck.”

You shook your head quickly, needing to get some sense into your boyfriend. “You’re not stuck here. Just because this asshole puts it like that doesn’t mean shit. He doesn’t know anything you’ve been through the past two yea–”

“Wasn’t it you just a few years ago, who told me I’d be nothing but the boy who used to be relevant?”

Hearing your words brought up felt like a bucket of ice water thrown to your face. Surprisingly, it stung more than you thought it would. At the time the words made sense, you wanted Steve to hurt as badly as you did.

But things changed, he changed.

“Yeah, I said that. And I was wrong. Okay? I was wrong and a liar because at the end of the day I did like you. I liked you so much that I had to physically keep myself away from you.”

The very idea of Steve thinking so far back to what you said and it possibly being something that continued to hurt him made your stomach twist up.

“So yeah, you’re not in tech, or state, or wherever. But you’re here with me, and you’re my favorite person in all this stupid world. Who does stuff like sticking up for me when you know I can handle angry customers, or letting me drive your precious car to lame parties, or giving me crazy hot sex at the office at work that I still think about sometimes.”

Sighing, you make a point to take a step back from him. Giving him a small sad smile. “I said a lot of awful shit to you in the past..I’m sorry. I’d never say anything about the guy standing before me now. And you shouldn’t give two craps about your jealous ex best friend or anything he says. But I guess that’s just what I think.”

Feeling a little frustrated, you make a move to step off towards the gate door when you’re pulled back gently.

Steve wrapped one arm around your lower back while the other cupped at your cheek. “I’m sorry,” he sighed, resting his forehead against yours. “I shouldn’t have brought that up. That was another time for us. I just.. I just can’t get his words out of my head. If Tommy Hagan of all people is doing better off than me–”

“Tommy Hagan is currently throwing up on Jason’s couch,” said a voice suddenly.

Staggering from the side of the house was Robin. In her hands was a stolen bag of chips and an unopened six pack of beers. “I highly doubt he’s doing better than you right now.” she smirked as she came over.

The two of you pull apart, but keep each other’s hands linked together. Steve is still down, looking only at your hands while he sniffed to himself. You glanced over at Robin who gave you a small nod, seeming to already know what’s happened from inside the party. It brought back the twisting feeling in your gut when you remembered how much of a better mood he was earlier that day.

“This party blows.” you said nodding over to Robin. “Wanna go drink and watch scary movies?”

“I know a place where we can grab a quick flick.” Robin smiled, seeming to like the change of plans. She moved over to Steve’s side, nudging him in the shoulder lightly. “Waddya say, dingus? Wanna get buzzed and watch some masked guy chase a hottie?”

He picked his head up at that, giving Robin a slight pout before he turned to look at you. Leaning in, you gave a small kiss to the corner of his lips in effort to make him smile. “That is if you’re up for it.”

The two of you keep your focus on Steve, leaning in comically enough that he has to hold up his hands to push both away lightly. “Fine,” he said, a smile cracking through his lips. “But I get to pick the movie.”

It’s weird to be ditching a party so early. This wouldn’t have happened last year. But something about leaving to go enjoy the rest of the night with Robin, Steve, and a cheesy horror movie felt right. And as the three of you made your way over to Steve’s car, you hope that he felt the same way.

DECEMBER

It was early one Saturday morning when the sound of a boy’s boisterous laugh woke you up. A dangerous move on the stranger’s part considering you were still in your beauty.

Grabbing onto your robe, you emerged out of your room. Brushing off the early sleep from your eyes to find the source of the noise pollution. Dustin, who didn’t have anyone over as far as you know, was standing in the living room surrounded by a small group of boys you recognized from school.

“Who’s the guy who can’t control the volume of his voice?” you muttered, giving the group a small glare.

Two boys in matching shirts jumped in place, not seeing you behind them. A third boy, who looked like he had seen a ghost, spat out the water he had been drinking. “D-Dustin,” he stuttered, shakily pointing over at you. “You didn’t tell us a girl lived here.”

“Girl?” Dustin snorted as he piled in books and snacks into his backpack. “You mean Medusa? Could’ve sworn that she was a Gorgon.”

“Oh you’re so funny!” You said, faking a hard laugh. “Wanna know what else is gonna be funny? Aunt Claudia’s face when I tell her it was you and your little troop of dungeoneers who dragged dirt onto her clean carpet.”

Dustin scoffed at the threat, getting up from the floor to cross his arms at you. “Please. There’s barely anything.”

“There is something, right here.” you insisted.

He huffed a bit before he joined you at your side. Peering down at the floor. You waited until he was distracted enough before putting him in a chokehold. Instantly he fought back, trying to get out of your vice like grip. The two of you ignored the anxious other boys as you struggled against each other.

“Let me go!” Dustin cried out, slapping at your arms.

“Say you’re sorry for the Medusa comment or else your ass is grass!” you hissed, pinching at his sides. It only caused the boy to become more erratic. Flailing in your arms until he was able to release himself out of your hold. He quickly stepped back and held up his hands defensively.

“If you tell my Mom about any of this, I’ll let slip about seeing Steve’s little morning exit from your window last Sunday!” he yelled back.

You let out a loud gasp. Shocked that he not only knew about last week’s rendezvous, but was brave enough to use as a threat against you. At any other time you’d be pretty impressed about it. But since he was doing it in front of his little friends, you could only scowl at your cousin.

“You little shit!” you growled, moving over to begin slapping at him. He instantly fought back, slapping at your hands and arms while leaning his face as far back from your assault. The other guys in the room are slightly gaping at the childish fight in front of them. It isn’t until Mike Wheeler came barreling through the front door that you two stopped.

“Sorry!” Mike apologized, panting out huffs of air. “We had to drop Holly off at her friend's house before my Mom could get me here. I’m ready to go.”

Dustin made sure to jump around you in order to get around the room to his bag again. The only thing you did was grumble as you made your way back towards the kitchen to get something to drink.

Thankfully the other boys followed Mike back out the door, calling out how they’re all ready to go while Dustin made his way over to you. His face was red from the one slap you got in on him, but he looked more sheepish than angry.

“Look, sorry about the comment..please don’t tell Mom about today? She’d only freak out.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, wanting to take the petty route for this. But considering he still had something to hold over you, you settled with nodding your head. “So long as you don’t bring up last Sunday. EVER.”

“Deal.” he laughed, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder. “Wouldn’t do me any good anyway.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Because if she grounds you from seeing Steve, then that means I don’t get to see him either.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, nodding your head again before waving him off. He turned around and made his way towards the door to join his friends outside. But not without throwing one more bit of information over his shoulder.

“You’ve got mail by the way. Something from California!” he called out before closing it up behind him. You rush over to the kitchen table and find an envelope with your name on it. The address you had memorized by now looked up at you tauntingly.

“California. Seems important.” Said a voice from behind you. Eddie, who was coming out of the bathroom apparently, sauntered over to your side. Peering down at the envelope.

“This is important, Ed.” You mumbled, ignoring the fact that he was inside your house. The nerves of what the letter could say inside was far too distracting at this point.

“What’s so special about this Stanford? It’s just some cushy college, right?”

You sighed softly, checking the weight of the envelope as if that were enough to give you any indication of what could be written inside. “It’s a law school, Eddie. It’s the law school that my family and I have been anticipating for since I was a kid.”

“Wait,” he said, leaning in carefully. “Just how important are these results to you?”

“Like my whole future sort of relies on this saying I’m accepted.”

He whistled at that, crossing his arms as he looked at the paper suspiciously. “You think I should bring the boys back in and do a prayer circle or something?”

You looked over him weirdly before chuckling at how serious he actually was. “As sweet as that is, I think I can settle with you just keeping me company.”

Flipping the envelope over, you carefully tore off the tip of the paper. Getting the glued tab to come off cleanly before freeing up the contents inside. It was a minute of silence as you scanned your eyes over the page.

“Holy shit.” you whispered.

“Congratulations! You have been admitted to the Stanford Class of 1990!” Eddie read out before he looked back at you. “That’s good, right?” You didn’t speak as you slowly faced him. Shocked to have the words read aloud for you.

“I’ve been accepted to Stanford University.” you said finally.

“You’ve been accepted.” he confirmed slowly. “Woo?”

Finally the excitement took over and you let out a happy scream. Jumping up and down gleefully. Eddie caught on with your happiness and let out a little laugh as he clapped his hands.

With how happy you felt inside, you didn’t even stop to think about sharing some of the joy you had and threw your arms around Eddie.

He huffed a bit from the air being pushed out of him before gingerly hugging back. “Way to go, Princess.” he said into your ear. Sounding genuinely happy. You can’t help but let out a small cheerful laugh and press a kiss to his cheek.

Pulling back, you’re about to thank Eddie for the moral support when the phone suddenly rang. Dashing into the kitchen, you pick up the landline and bring the phone up to your ear.

“Tell me you got yours!” said Nancy on the other line.

“I just opened it! What did yours say?”

“I GOT IN!”

“ME TOO!” you cried out, making the other girl on the line scream out.

Eddie was still standing by the table, hand over his cheek as he stared down at the letter. From outside you could hear Dustin call out his name. Nancy on the other end calls to your attention too. Making you and Eddie only have a brief moment where you both make eye contact.

“Thanks.” you mouthed, feeling a little bad about ditching him for the phone call. He didn't say anything but smiled and waved goodbye. Casually stealing one more glance as he made his way out the door.

You find yourself still smiling even after he leaves.

LATER THAT WEEK

“Steve if you don’t get your hands off of me..”

“I’m helping keep you steady.” he chuckled from beneath you.

You were currently at the top of the ladder above the romance section. Attempting to use a pin and string to hang up the mistletoe you bought off a Christmas tree lot yesterday morning. Steve had just clocked in five minutes ago before he made his way over to you. Letting his roaming hands go around the sides of your hips while you were distracted.

“You’re actually tickling me.”

He snorted at that before moving around so he could stand at the other side of the ladder, holding onto the sides to keep it in place better. You quickly pushed the pin into the roof of the store, holding a hand beneath it to catch the object. When it didn’t fall you stepped down, smiling up at the sight.

Not missing the chance, Steve stepped forward just a bit so that he stood right beneath it. “Looks like we’re under the mistletoe.” he hummed, moving to wrap an arm around your back.

“Would you look at that?” you laughed, pretending to be shocked. “It seems we are.”

He smirked down at you before reaching up with his other hand to use the tip of your chin to angle you up to him. Bringing you in close enough so that your lips could meet in the middle. It was a sweet, simple kiss that still took your breath away by the time he pulled back.

“Missed ya today.” he said softly, looking at you with such a warmth that it has you feeling flushed all over.

“I missed you too. Did you enjoy the morning off?” you asked, biting your lip in an attempt to control the grin that wanted to plaster all over your face. It was hard to keep your cool composure around him sometimes.

He shrugged a bit, bringing a hand up to casually pull at your bottom lip. Caressing at the plump tender skin before he leaned in to quickly sneak in another peck. “Got to take care of a few things. Including stocking up for our little weekend.”

The two of you recently planned for a private little getaway the moment you both found out you had the weekend off. It took some convincing and switching for Robin, plus some shifts covered to make Keith happy. But you guys managed to get away with it.

“Oh?” you hummed, blinking a little bit. You were still a bit stunned from his little bits of affection. “Someone’s excited. I guess I should say thank you for taking care of everything.”

“I think I know a way you can thank me.” Steve said, sounding a little too excited. “I believe last month you showed me a pretty good way to thank me.”

Laughing, you rolled your eyes and stepped away from Steve and his workplace temptations again in order to put away the ladder. “As much as I’d love to entertain that idea, I switched shifts with Robin. I have a test I need to study for.”

“What?” he pouted. “You didn’t have to switch her, I could have helped you with that!”

Again you can’t help but laugh. “As much as I’m sure you mean that, I know your method of studying..not exactly the type of thing I need for History.”

He followed after you, grabbing the ladder quickly to help put it away in the stock room in the back. You waited until he was done setting it against the wall before draping your arms around his neck, pulling him close now that you guys had some privacy.

“Now if it was Chemistry..that’d be a whole other thing.” you smirked watching as his pout slowly turned into a smile. “Tonight the store gets a break from our sexual escapades, this weekend however, will not.” You curled your fingers into the back ends of his hair, giving it a light tug as you looked up at him. “I’ll be all yours for forty-eight hours.”

Steve grunted a bit at the tugging, pressing himself close to your front while he rubbed his hands around the sides of your waist affectionately. “All mine?” he mused softly. “Just for the weekend?”

“Well no, I’m always yours. But this weekend will be..extra special.”

That piqued his interest even more. Making his eyes turn dark as he leaned his face down to your neck. “Define special.” he purred, letting his breath fan against your skin before he brought his lips close to yours.

Laughing a bit at his unbothered public flirting, you gave in to his tempting looks and gave him a kiss quickly before your mind thought about the letter in the back of your jeans. You were still debating on whether to share this news with Steve now or later on. Unsure if you could hold back the exciting secret anymore.

“So there was this letter–”

“There she is!”

The sudden waving over from the front counter quickly distracted you. Making you pull back from Steve enough to peek out and see Eddie over at the front. Raising a brow, you stepped over towards him, giving him a small smile as you moved to stand beside him.

“What are you doing here, Eddie?”

“Well, I was actually here to check out Sleepaway Camp.” he said, patting the tape on the counter. “But, it turns out I owe you guys money that I already paid.”

Robin, who was looking at Eddie curiously nodded her head in agreement. “There’s a three day late fee, dude. The system says it was returned but never paid for.” she said pointing to the screen. Steve came to join her at the register, frowning over at Eddie briefly before he looked at the screen himself.

“You owe us for Dune.” he said curtly, crossing his arms. “It’s a three dollar late fee.”

Momentarily, you ignore your boyfriend’s uncalled for attitude in order to sort out some of the mess your new friend had gotten himself into. “Geez Ed, you do know this is only for rent, right?”

Eddie looked over to you slightly exasperated before he leaned in.“Dune turned out to be a lot harder to watch than I thought. But it was only late by a day.” he said softly. “Think you can help me out with your friends?”

“You know we can hear you, right?” Robin asked, becoming less amused by the boy. Steve on the other hand looked a little more on the angrier side.

Holding a hand up, you lean over the counter and look at the screen carefully. “What day did you come in to return it?”

“Uhh, Monday. Night time. Probably when you guys were closing.”

You quickly thought back to earlier this week. That night had been slow, and it took you nearly an hour to convince Keith to let you off early to get an extra bit of time with Steve before he had to drive you home.

“Keith.” you said simply. “He was the only one here that night and we all know what he’s like the last hour here.” Steve pursed his lips, ready to rebut that but you raised a brow at him. “This mess wouldn’t have happened if I had been here. But seeing as I had plans..I wasn’t.”

That seemed to shut him up but didn’t quite take away the frown from his face.

Robin clicked the mouse over the screen, deleting the charge before shrugging her shoulders to Steve. “Keith does hate checking movies back in. He probably waited for one of us to do it the next day and forgot about the charge.”

Steve looked over the three of you with a small glare before shaking his head, moving to restack the pile of tapes over by the return counter. “Whatever, I guess.”

Pushing the tape towards Robin, you turned to face Eddie. Pointing a finger sternly at him. “This is the last time I will help you with a late fee problem. Next time bring your movie on time, whether you understand it or not.”

“Yes, ma’am.” he chuckled, giving Robin the money for his new rental. “Gotta say, if that’s how you work as a defense lawyer before Law school, then I can’t wait to see you after. Might have to find a way to contact you in California.”

“California?” Steve asked quickly.

You couldn’t help but freeze into place. Silently cursing Eddie for spilling the secret about your recent plans in front of Steve without you getting the chance to. “Uh,” you laughed nervously. “California..it’s where I’ll be starting school next year.”

“Wait, when did this happen?” asked Steve as he came around the counter to go over to your side. “You got into a school in California?”

“Pfft,” Eddie snorted, grabbing his tape from the counter. “She didn’t get into just any California school. She got into Stanford.”

Robin gasped softly, looking over astonished before she clapped. “Holy shit, Henderson. You got in?!”

Steve beside you is slightly taken back. Brown eyes shifting between looking between you and Eddie. Was he happy, worried, mad? For once your boyfriend seemed to be completely unreadable to you.

“I just found out the other day.” you explained looking between the group.

Eddie nudged his elbow gently into your arm, giving you a small smirk. “Hell yeah you did. And because of that bit of news, I know just the person to help me out with my many upcoming parking tickets.” he teased, throwing a quick wink. “Catch you later, big shot.”

The three of you quietly watched as Eddie left the store. For a moment there was a bit of awkward silence before Robin cleared her throat, causing your eyes to return over to her. She looked a bit worried at Steve but quickly shot you a wide grin.

“Congratulations, kid. All that law nonsense you’re always bringing up is finally gonna come in handy.”

Despite the teasing in her tone, her smile is genuine. Making you feel a little at ease about how awkward it seemed to be.

“Thanks, Robin.” you laughed a little bit before turning to Steve.

He was looking at you with such a forlorn look before he blinked into realization. “C’mere.” he whispered, pulling you into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”

The warmth and love behind the hug is so genuine that you can’t help but melt into his arms. Feeling Steve press a kiss to the side of your head. But even with the affection, you can’t help but still feel like something was off.

“Is everything okay? You looked a little sick a second ago..”

He let out a small huff of amusement before leaning forward to kiss at your forehead. “I am, I promise. This is just..this is big news.”

Reaching into your pocket, you pulled out the acceptance letter, opening it up for Steve to have a look at.

Carefully, he took the paper into his hands and scanned his eyes over the page. A small smile tugging at his face before he glanced up at you. “This is amazing but..how come you were keeping this a secret? This is good news.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be.” you said honestly. “I was going to tell you this weekend as a surprise but Eddie’s mouth is too fast for his brain to catch up and he gave it away.”

“How did Eddie know anyway?” he asked, slightly hesitant. Robin, who was still watching the awkward scene play out, waved the two of you off and went to the back to distract herself with work. Leaving the two of you alone.

“He was picking up Dustin the other day for some sort of game night and saw me with the letter. It was only by chance that he found out first.”

Steve looked a little bit unsure of your answer, but didn’t seem to go against it. Only giving you back the letter. For a moment you’re worried that he might still be upset about things, but he quickly turned to make things back to how it was before. Wrapping an arm around your waist as he pulled you closer.

“So I’m guessing the letter was that extra special thing you were mentioning earlier.”

Happy to have him back in a playful mood again, you can’t help but grin up at him. Despite wanting to play cool and coy. “Yes..and no.” you hummed, pressing your hand to rest against the front of his chest. The beat of his heart was thumping heavy through his shirt. “The actual special bit is the fact that a certain set of clothes I found in Vanity Fair last month arrived in the mail for me today.”

“Clothes?” he asked, face scrunching up in confusion. “What’s so special about clothes?”

Tracing your hand from his chest up to the side of his neck, you watch as his throat bobbed a bit. “Well for starters they’re in red. Your favorite color.”

“Red is nice.”

“Yeah, so is lace.”

His eyes widened at the reveal and you felt a big surge of pride in knowing that Steve was already enthralled with the outfit without having seen you in it yet. But his shock quickly turned back into a frown, making you worried he might be upset again.

“That’s not good.” he said with a shake to his head.

“What’s wrong?”

“We’re gonna need a lot more than forty-eight hours now if I’m gonna see you walking around in lace.”

Now it’s your turn to stare at him with a stunned look. But with the sound of Robin calling out to Steve, there’s no time for you to even think of a response to that. Meanwhile Steve has completely soaked in the sight of you taken back for once, giving you a kiss to your cheek before he patted your behind.

“Duty calls, Trouble.” he winked, giving you one last look over. “I’ll call you later.”

And just like that you’re left at the counter, both excited and anxious for the weekend to come.

TWO DAYS LATER

There were a couple of things you learned since the start of the getaway weekend. The first thing was the fact that you and Steve were doomed to either order take out the rest of your lives, or sign up for cooking classes.

The second was that Steve Harrington really loved red lace.

“Fuck, I’m so close.”

The two of you had been going at this all night. Taking breaks from eating, talking, and watching tv in order to make out or mess around. Despite the fact that you two had a very healthy sex life for two working teens, you both took every opportunity that this weekend could bring.

“Me too.” you whimpered, rolling your hips again. Steve had you on his lap by the fireplace. Letting the heat of the fire keep your bare skin warm since the only thing left of the lace was the bra you managed to keep on.

The palm of his hands gripped tightly to your hips, helping you keep the rhythm that was getting the both of you closer to your third climax of the night. At this point the way you two were going it was like you were trying to start a new record.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Steve grunted, trying hard not to grip tightly to the soft skin of your hips. His eyes were looking everywhere from your face down to your bouncing breasts. You couldn’t help but feel a heat go over your face.

Leaning close, you pressed your lips against his. Trying to capture his heavy breath so that you could soak him in completely. But at the same time he’s thrusting upward to keep up with you and his cock is hitting at just the right spot. Making you throw your head back in a gasp.

Steve wrapped you in his strong arms. Making sure to maintain the deep thrusts and keep you situated on his lap. Your hands reached out to grip against his shoulders. Sharp nails slightly digging into his skin when he thrusted into the right spot again. It caused him to grunt softly, face scrunching up in concentration.

He relentlessly slammed into you next, giving his everything into your pussy as he repeatedly bucked his hips up. Beads of sweat started to fall down the side of his face and you paused your bouncing to brush back the sweaty hair from his face. “Your perfect pussy is gripping on me so tight,” he growled. “I’m gonna lose it.”

His dirty words affect you like usual, making you not only moan, but squirm even more in his hold. “Please, baby. I’m almost there.” you whined, rolling your hips a bit. There’s a good amount of arousal that’s slicked up between you and Steve can’t help but smirk down at the sight before he glanced at you again.

“Don’t worry, honey. I’m gonna make you feel real good again.”

With one hand still around your waist, keeping your body pressed to his, he used the other to cup at the side of your neck. Keeping you perfectly still to drill into you in a brutally fast sequence. One thrust, two, three, and with one hard final push, he’s hitting the right spot that has you seeing white spots.

Your weak body collapsed fully on top of him, falling into the ecstasy like bliss it always does while Steve rode out his orgasm. Between you two, the remnants of his orgasm started to slowly seep out, coating the upper part of your thighs.

“So good.” you murmured into his skin. Lips lazily peppering his neck with kisses. He pressed his lips to your forehead, gently stopping his thrusting so that the two of you could slowly fall backwards into the pile of pillows on the floor.

It wasn’t until a second later that the two of you pulled apart completely. Falling on your backs as you tried to gasp back some air into your lungs. But with the fire beside you still alive and spreading its warmth into the room, you couldn’t quite cool off right away.

But that didn’t matter, not when Steve was pressing loving kisses over your neck and shoulders as he came down from his high. He was murmuring sweet words into your skin, almost silently to himself before he settled for resting his face against your shoulder. Close to your side.

It’s a peaceful, intimate kind of cuddling. Something you guys don’t get to have often since most of the time you’re having sex in the heat of the moment or some place you aren’t supposed to. But this was different. This was almost like playing make believe that you lived this kind of way.

“Your thinking face is on.” Steve said softly, pulling you out of your thoughts. His hand was gently running up and down the side of your arm as he looked over at you. “Mind sharing with me?”

“It’s nothing.” you sighed, trying to avert your gaze down. The curls on his chest were slightly slick from the heat of everything. “Just admiring the day we got to have.”

“Oh,” he chuckled. “So you’re thinking about it too?”

For some reason that has you turning shy, hiding your face away from his knowing eyes and hiding in the crook of his neck. The skin there smelled like his cologne and something musky, making you take a deep inhale before you placed a kiss there.

“I think I could live everyday like this.”

“What? Burnt steaks and sex every night by the fireside?” you asked, pulling away to gage his reaction. He looked very pleased with the question, nodding his head quickly.

“Who the hell wouldn’t?” he said as a matter of fact. The palm of his hand wandered from your side down to your bare backside. “Do you think they have that lace in more colors?” he said a second later, cupping at the cheek of your ass

“Steve!” you chided, trying to hold in a laugh. But too quickly is that failing and he’s dragging you back close. Letting his lips land on yours while he kneaded at your behind. You melt into the moment, letting yourself give into Steve completely.

“We can have that you know.” you said against his lips. He hummed in question, not pulling back from you so that he could continue the grazing over your skin. “Live like this every day.”

“I know,” he agreed. “Someday right?”

While he was right about that, there was something you had in mind. It came to you the day before when you were packing for the weekend. A small spark of an idea really. No matter what you did throughout the day, the idea of sharing an apartment in the bright sunny California with Steve kept bringing a smile to your face.

“Well, it could be someday..or it could be next fall?”

He pulled away confused before you sat up to look down on him. If there was anyone that you’d want to share a room with, a home with, a life with; it was Steve.

“Stanford starts early next fall. And my parents want me to live off campus so I can have a better place to stay. Meaning that I’d probably get an apartment close by. But it’d be just me alone in a new place with no friends..no you.”

“Right.” he said slowly, not exactly sounding like he understood where you were going with this

“But, if we work things out early..it doesn’t have to be that way.” He still looked up at you perplexed with unsurety in his gaze. You take it as a sign just to be straightforward with this now.

“Do you think maybe you’d come with me and live together?”

His brows furrowed together, lips pouting as he took in your formal words finally. “Live together? Like together? In California?”

“Yes, like us in a place back home.”

“I thought that you’d want something long distance.” he asked, eyes shifting.

“What, you expected the two of us to just be together almost three thousand miles apart in a completely different timezone?”

“Wait, you actually did the math?”

“Steve..”

He held his hands up defensively, licking his lips as he nervously stuttered out his next words. “Baby, look, I don’t think I can just leave home. I-I can’t just uproot my whole life for..” he cut himself off, frowning over his own words before he looked at you nervously.

It’s safe to say the words still hurt you to your core without being said. Enough to almost make you physically flinch inside. But the part of you that tries to hide, aka the venomous bitch, is festering off this conversation.

For the first time in a while, you let her out a bit. “Finish it.” you said sternly. “Finish the sentence.”

Steve quickly shook his head, not wanting to steer anywhere near that kind of talk. “No, no, honey. You know I didn’t mean it like that.” he pleaded, trying to reach for you. But you already reeled yourself back, getting some space as you felt the anger heat up your face.

“Say the rest of the damn sentence, Steve. Say how you don’t think I’m worth changing your life for.”

He moved to sitting up now. Looking at you the most serious since he’s been in a while. “I’m not gonna finish it because I don’t believe that. You’re one of the few people in my life that’s helped me for the better. I just meant that I didn’t want to uproot my life for nothing. I need to do something in order to do that.”

“Starting a life with me is nothing?”

He sputtered a bit. Trying to say multiple rebuttals to that at once. “Don’t twist my words!”

“Then what is it you’re trying to say, Steve? Because as far as I know you’re not doing anything here but working at family video.” Looking at your hands you try to control the word vomit coming out but the pain in your chest is making that hard to do. “You’re still on this weird sabbatical since you didn’t make it into tech. And FYI, you could do something in California. There’s tech schools, community colleges, christ, even video rental stores. Why can’t you just do that over there where you can be with me?”

“What, like some love sick boy following around his girlfriend while she’s off becoming a lawyer and he’s stuck renting tapes out to jerk offs?” Steve scoffed lightly, not really pleased with your suggestion.

“No, like a man who wants to be with the supposed woman he’s in love with. Or did that mindset only have a lifespan of one school year?”

“Stop..stop acting like it’s just that. You know it wouldn’t be an easy change! Not to mention there’s other factors.”

“Like what?”

“Like the fact that I have other people in my life that are important too. Not just you!”

You look over at him shocked. Mind instantly scrambling to put together if you had even insinuated that at all in the conversation. “I never said there wasn’t.” you frowned, wondering where this conversation was going to. “You mean the world to Dustin and I know Robin is your best friend. But..I wouldn’t expect Jonathan to stick around just to wait around for me. I’d..I’d want him to venture out and find something good for him.”

“I want that for you too. Okay? I want you to have all that..”

“And what about you? Why don’t you want that for yourself, Steve?” You almost reached out to shake him. Wanting to make him see that this move would be so much more than just moving in with you. It’d be a whole new world, a whole new life that you believed the two of you deserved.

Why wasn’t he getting that?

“What I want and what I need are different things. I need to stay and check on my friends and make sure they’re safe in this hell hole. What I want is..you.” He reached up and gripped at your hand, bringing it down to press against his chest. The beat of his heart was fast beneath the tips of your fingers. Whatever he was feeling, it was enough to make his heart panic. “All I’ve ever wanted is you because I love you..”

“Just not enough to come with me..”

His mouth slacked a bit and he quickly shook his head. Seemingly stumped by your words. You sniffled a bit, holding back the tears you felt pinching at your eyes. Quickly, you pulled away from his hold. Reaching over for the robe you had been wearing earlier and slipping it on before you got up from the floor. “I think I should go home.” you said softly, averting your eyes.

“No. Wait, please.” Steve said, quickly reaching for his sweats. “You can’t just leave. Besides, it's snowing. You don’t have a car and could get hurt.”

“I’ll risk it.” You said bitterly, making your way up to go upstairs to where your stuff was. Steve caught up in time to stop you from taking the bag from the floor in his room. You tried to pry it out of his hands but he wouldn’t let go of the bag. You settled for letting go, moving over to stand in front of his window now.

This wasn’t how the night is supposed to be going. The two of you were supposed to have carefree fun. But because of your big mouth, the real world was coming in and tearing it all down. “I don’t want to be here right now.” you said honestly.

“Please,” he said, letting out a sigh. The tip of his fingers curled over your shoulders as he slowly dragged you back to press against his front. Crossing his arms over your chest like a blanket. “This isn’t how I wanted things to go.”

“I know, me neither.” you said softly, voice sounding small and unfamiliar. This sudden weak feeling was still so unfamiliar to you. Especially with Steve of all people. He was the only one for a while other than Jonthan that you felt you could be vulnerable with. But at the moment, it’s the furthest you wanted to be.

He pressed a kiss to your neck, soft and loving. But didn’t push for you to turn around. You kept your gaze out of his window the pool, letting the light distract you from the eyes you know would instantly pull you in.

“Take my room tonight..I’ll..take you home in the morning if you still want to leave.”

You nodded your head, staying in place, frozen. He gave you just one more kiss to your shoulder before he fully let go. His steps dragged as he slowly made his way to the door. As if he were waiting to see if you’d change your mind. But you knew you couldn’t.

The wood creaked softly as he tugged it close, but not before he softly said one more message.

“I love you, don’t forget that.”

With that he closed up the door, officially ending the conversation and the night. The distant sound of him heading back downstairs followed along with the heavy beats of your hearts. It was all that beat in your head as you made your way over to Steve’s bed.

The familiar comforting smell of his fabric softener hitting your senses instantly. It wasn’t until you dragged the covers over your body that you felt the tears break through. Reaching out, you turned off the lamp by his bed. Letting yourself be engulfed in the darkness so that you could mull over what could very much be more than just a bad night.

The following morning, you wake up curled in the comforter of Steve’s bed. He kept his distance throughout the night. Leaving you tossing and turning with a mixture of anxiety and anger coursing through you. Glancing at the watch on your wrist, you note how early in the day it really was. Too early for a heavy sleeper like Steve. It’d be at least a good hour or two before he stirred awake on his own.

Glancing at his nightstand, you hesitantly reached over for the phone. Fingers twitching just about the receiver. It didn’t feel right to do this. It felt cowardly. But if you stayed the morning and continued to talk the way you both did last night…well, you weren’t sure where things would head.

The dial tone only rang twice before the person on the other end finally picked up.

“Hello?”

“Nancy, it’s me.”

“Hey! Are you okay?” asked the girl with concern.

“No, I’m not okay.” There’s a tremble to your voice and you silently curse yourself for already feeling like breaking down at the comforting tone of your friend. “Do you think you can pick me up? I’m over at–”

“I know where you are. I’m on my way.”

It only took Nancy about ten minutes to arrive outside the driveway of Steve’s house. The moment you saw her familiar car, you quickly moved out the door. Carefully shutting it behind you as you walked down the pathway.

Her regular curls were tied up messily on the top of her head. Sleepiness was still heavy on her face along with the remnants of her makeup from yesterday. But her blue eyes, however, were filled with a familiar worry that had you slightly relieved.

Guilt quickly engulfed you. Not only were you ditching Steve with nothing but a note saying you’d call him later. But you had your friend up early with no other information as to if you were okay or not.

It felt like nothing about this weekend was ever going to go right.

You quickly entered the car. Allowing the heater to warm you up as you buckled into your seat. It wasn’t until you were settled in that you were brave enough to look over at Nancy. A small smile tugging at your lips when you noticed she had driven over in her plaid pajama set. The only thing fit for the weather was her jacket and the heavy snow boots she had.

“Thanks.” you said softly, rubbing your cold hands together. “I know it’s early and you weren’t really expecting to hear from me. But we uh…” the argument suddenly returned to your mind. Making your voice die down and water prickle at the rim of your eyes.

“It’s okay.” she cut in softly, reaching out to grab at your hands. “We don’t have to talk about it yet.”

Nodding your head thankfully, you look out onto the dashboard. Trying to focus on anything to control the moisture that’s trying to leak out. Nancy let out a small sigh before suddenly turning to face you.

“Wanna get some breakfast?” she asked, causing you to look over at her. Her smile was big and she had a small look of determination on her face. While a part of you really wanted to go back home and cry into your pillow for the rest of the weekend, something about maybe dishing out your current problems over a hot plate of food sounded oddly comforting.

“Know a place that has good waffles?”

Smirking a bit, she changed the gear on the car. “I know just the place.”

The low hum of music was the only noise after that. You couldn’t help but steal a longing glance in your rearview mirror. Taking in one last look at Steve’s house, and for the weekend that it could have been.

A regretful choice unfortunately. Because as the view of the house began to grow smaller, so did the sight of Steve standing at the front of his door. Alone. With nothing but a note in his hands.

A/N: Please don’t hate me! I wanted to make sure this chapter had enough fluff, smut, drama, and set up for the future of the season.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x henderson!reader #steve harrington x henderson reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #eddie munson x henderson reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #steve harrington x female reader #cac #fluff #angst #smut

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