#wanted to try something a little different tonight
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abby being fucking mean w it (toxic!bff!abby) who is also a dealer+ slapping, spit, dumbification, degradation, dacryphilia, squirting.
✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: abby’s used to the usual “you up?” text from you because even though she prayed about it every night, it usually meant nothing more than getting high and watching some film or tv show you’ve seen a million times before. but tonight, when she walks into your apartment something feels different.
“hi abs,” you coo from the couch where you’re wearing nothing but her hoodie and skimpy little shorts she can hardly see and all the blood drains from her head. abby gulps and tries to compose herself, says nothing when your nipples are hard and poking through the sweatshirt.
she can only hand you her dab pen and sit beside you. her thighs threatening to twist and rub together to soothe the growing ache between her them. she tries to ignore the fact that you smell freshly showered. your scent lathering her in rose and cocoa butter and she wants to smell your skin, lick up your neck and feel you up under her hoodie, see how soft you really are.
“what’s wrong?” you ask, your eyes glossy when you look over to your best friend. she hasn’t said a word for an entire episode. she’s been stroking up and down your legs absentmindedly, biting her lip.
“nothing I just -“ she sighs, “why are you dressed like that?”
“like what?” you ask, although you’re not confused. you know it’s wrong to tease her like this, but you weren’t leading her on —
“why are you dressed like a fucking slut?” abby groans, finally turning to look at you, her glare making you shrink into yourself, your shorts dampening. the way she’s looking at you, like she’d tear you apart, her nose scrunched and her mouth curled in a snarl; it makes your face hot, your breathing picks up.
“I - I don’t know, I wanted to be comfortable-“
“don’t fucking lie to me right now,” abby interrupts, parting your legs and kneeling between them, “I wanted your attention,” you whine finally acquiescing to her glare and placing your hands gingerly over hers on your thighs.
“I want you abby,” you say breathless before she’s even done anything.
“want me how?” abby prompts and you guide her hand up your inner thigh to rest on your pussy, she sighs at the feeling of you over your tiny sleep shorts she can feel the soft hair on your mound some of her fingers graze your lips,
“not wearing any fucking panties?” she pants, leaning over you, nosing your neck and placing kisses there “you’re a greedy fucking bitch you know that?”
you whimper softly and abby chuckles, “want me as your best friend — want me to listen about all those shitty dates I tell you not to go on,” she lets her fingers circle your clit softly, places a kiss on the side of your mouth,
“don’t want me going out on runs just to spend the day with you, even though you know it’s my fucking job,” she huffs, letting herself feel your wetness and groaning against your lips. you can’t help but cup her neck and bring her down to kiss you, taste that sweet tongue she shoves into your mouth and moan as you suck on it.
“I told you,” abby whispers against your lips “that I’m all you need but you’re too fucking stupid to see that,”
you whimper, trying to reach up for her lips but she pulls back to look at you, dazed and dewy — your pretty mouth in a pout. “m’sorry abs, i’ll —“ you don’t know what to say, abby’s never been so forthright with her command over you. “please I need you,”
“I know you do, silly, but how bad?” she asks, lazily working your wet clit, pulling your shorts to the side to dip her fingers lower to your wet, clenching cunt. “tell me how much you need me,” she brushes her nose against yours softly, dipping her fingers in as your mouth parts to speak.
“need you abby, I’ve always —fuck — always needed you,” your voice cracking as abby sinks her fingers home and curls them. abby huffs a moan as she scissors her fingers inside you, stretching you out and feeling your gummy walls wet and tighten around her.
“I know baby, and now you have me, gonna give this stupid little pussy what she needs,” she grunts, bucking her hips with her fingers, fucking in and out of you. “shit, gotta punish you for denying me of this,” she cups your cheek softly before slapping you lightly, loving the gasp you make, the shock in your eyes that melts quickly into lust when she does it again.
“s’okay though, gonna give it to you every fucking day,” abby says rubbing your clit with her thumb and adding another finger, “make sure I fuck you dumber than you already are,”
“abby, fuck too much,” you whine, squirming and still bucking your hips up into her hand for more -
“oh shut up,” she groans at the feeling you you trying to meet her thrusts “look at you, don’t even know what you fucking want,” she chuckles, “shut the fuck up, so I can give you what you need,” abby puckers your cheeks, spitting into your open mouth and sinking three of her fingers into it so you’re almost gagging on her.
“perfect,” abby sighs, the feeling of filling you full making her hips twitch against you, her fingers inside you faltering if only for a second, “look so pretty all off of me,” she moans, the back of her palm rubbing against her clit so nicely she has to moan with you as she bucks and snaps her hips against you.
“should have just given it to you long ago,” abby whispers into your ear, “always knew you just wanted to be my cum-drunk slut,” she sinks the fingers in your mouth deeper just to hear you gag around them and whimpers when she curls her fingers inside your pussy, rubbing your gspot and not letting up, her thumb rubbing on your clit.
“you’re so fucking stupid though,” she cooes, “aren’t you? couldn’t even tell me what you wanted,” you shake your head rapidly and abby slows down.
“no? you’re not stupid?” abby removes her fingers from your mouth and puckers your cheeks, slapping it before presses a kiss to your mouth for every hard thrust she gives you, fucking the words out of you, “use your words then, tell me how good it feels — prove your not just a dumb fucking slut,”
but you can’t, fuck, not with the way her fingers are spearing into you, the way she’s curling them and rubbing your gspot so deliciously, you try to speak and all that falls from your mouth is “abs-baby please ungh fuck fuck oh god!”
the blonde uses her free hand, cascades it down your chest to press on your lower belly “see? you’re just a brainless doll, meant for me to fuck.”
you’re seeing hot white like the pleasure curling outward from your belly, “come on be dumb, and feel so good and cum for me yeah?” abby sighs as you mewl, your thighs tightening around her, your nails clawing at her arms and leaving red lines behind.
“aw that’s right baby, mark me up, let em know I’m yours,” she’s so fucking happy she finally has you. “m’gon- please wanna cum!” abby nods her bottom lip between her teeth and your whole body tightens, your toes curling and your back arching as you cum, gasping — tears falling from your eyes.
“shit shit, need ta fill you with my cock — fuck my sweet stupid girl”
you half think she’s joking, you think she’ll come back with a cloth and kisses and instead she’s handling you onto your belly, pulling your hips up and sliding her strap into you. and overstimulated as you are, you can’t help but back up into her,
“god, yeah, fuck yourself on my dick baby — shit you look so good doing your job, finally getting something right,” abby spreads your ass to see her strap going in and out of you, “fucking hell - that’s all you’re good for huh? drooling over me,” and this time you don’t disagree, too focused on the way she grinds her hips and humps you, her little sighs and moans and the shock when she smacks your ass.
abby steadies her hands on your hips and grunts as she holds you still, fucking into you. she’s bucking her hips so hard, filling you to the brim, her strap stretching you out until you’re whining and grabbing at pillows, trying to squirm out of her grip.
“nuh-uh, take it,” abby groans, pressing down between your shoulders to immobilise you, and grinning when you start to wail, tears springing from your eyes as you moan “yeah take my dick,” abby says, folding your arms behind your back and gripping them for leverage.
“you need this honey, need me to make you whole, get you dumb for the right reasons,” abby groans at the feeling of the strap rubbing against her overstimulated clit, she couldn’t help herself from cumming to the sound of your moans, the excitement of finally getting to fuck you overwhelmed her.
“tell me baby, tell me you need me,” she snarls, bucking her hips, she’s moaning like she can feel you, the way your clenching down on her, sucking her in.
“need you abby , need you need you so fuck! m’so stupid for you — ah!” you’re yelling when abby reaches down to rub your clit, “good girl, been such a good girl f’me,” she groans, grinding and shallowly thrusting into your gspot.
“come on good girl, one more for me,” she moans and is in absolute awe when she feels you squirting into her hand and all over your couch.
Tags 🏷️ @lesbian-useless @sexysapphicshopowner @iamaboringrattat @sapphicsgirl @bimboprincezz
#lesbian#abby tlou smut#lesbian smut#abby anderson smut#abby tlou#nsft lesbian#Abby tlou x reader#Tlou x reader#Tlou x reader smut#abby Anderson x reader smut#abby Anderson x reader#abby x reader smut#Abby tlou x reader smut
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warnings: noncon, drugging
wc. 837
repost. i found this in my docs accidentally (which is silly because when i intentionally looked for it i couldn’t find it…?)
the night feels mistier than it looks, the moon marveling down at itself as it reflects in the water and a bridge of light gleams gently across the still lake. jeno’s car isn’t parked too far. if you tried to walk there in this state, it wouldn’t feel that way, but it’s just shy of the edge.
mark and jeno would never let you make that journey though, not without their support. you never used to think that you were a lightweight, but considering mark and jeno have to nurse you every time you drink together, it was safe to say that you couldn’t hold your liquor.
they’re such good friends, you always tell yourself the morning after, helping you take care of yourself and still inviting you back the next time. you tried to tell them that you wouldn’t be upset if they didn’t want you to come, you wouldn’t want to babysit a drunk grown woman either, but the two insist that you are far from a nuisance.
tonight is no different from any other friday night that you spend getting drunk with your trustworthy friends. you each have a couple of drinks, downing shots in between laughter and chatter. nothing’s out of the blue, really. until it is. until that strange, familiarly unfamiliar feeling creeps up on you, the isolation of your debilitated senses, the lack of control altogether.
it always goes like this. a few shots, some jokes, some stumbling around. mark and jeno crack the jokes now, laughing at how drunk you are, but nevertheless holding onto you. jeno’s holding onto your left while mark’s got your right, their distinct touches peculiarly familiar to you for whatever reason. you know mark’s calloused hands and hardened palms when you feel them, as you do jeno’s strong grip, because he never not fails to remember his strength.
they guide you to the car, assuring you that they’re going to sober you up with some water mark brought to jeno’s car but for whatever reason didn’t think to bring out with the the drinks. and then it’s blank, foggy and unclear.
you don’t remember jeno’s unforgiving hold on your wrists, his merciless pace as if he’s trying to squeeze you into his leather seat. you don’t remember his degrading little words as he breaks character, going on about how you’re so, so stupid. so trusting. too trusting. you don’t remember mark’s toughened hands on your hips as he bulldozes your pussy, nothing but, “fuck,” leaving his mouth.
hell, you don’t even remember hearing them play rock paper scissors to decide who gets to have their wicked way with you before the other, mark being the lucky guy tonight.
because when your senses are restored, the sun is up and you aren’t at the lake anymore nor are you inside of jeno’s car. given that mark’s place is closest, they took you there for the night, and it’s his spare room that you wake up inside of.
when you meet mark and jeno in the morning, they even have breakfast going, and everything’s so overwhelmingly normal in spite of the strange feeling that possesses you.
because when mark wraps his arm around you in a sweet hug, his hand brushes a sliver of your exposed skin even though you’re fully dressed, and it feels strange. when jeno whispers something in your ear about mark’s cooking skills or lack thereof, his tone and the little chuckle that follows is too familiar.
and it starts to occur to you, the memories of what happened the night before, through a thick, blurry haze. mark’s mangling weight on top of your body and rough fingers. jeno’s harsh words that are hardly jokes, violent and sweaty skin sticking to yours.
it’s so distant that you can’t tell if it’s a dream or a memory, but to your horror, it feels so real. it explains the stinging around your wrists and the bruising at your hips, the sticky stuff in your underwear.
but you don’t want to believe that mark and jeno are capable of hurting you. not when they take care of you so much more than they have to, not when they’re always so sweet and kind, so loving.
you ask mark and jeno if anything happened last night a couple of moments into breakfast, an unsettling feeling like bile in your throat. it’s different than an average hangover, it spreads all over and wrecks through your whole being like an implacable virus.
mark and jeno play dumb, as if they’re totally oblivious to what you’re implying, even if they remember in detail what you would never be able to recall as descriptively as they do amongst each other. they say that you passed out in the car, and it’s so convenient, almost too convenient, but that’s their story and they stick to it.
and really, you don’t press for the truth, because you wouldn’t know how to accept your friends being anybody but who you think they are anyway.
#tw: noncon#tw: drugging#mark lee smut#lee jeno smut#nct smut#nct dream smut#mark smut#jeno smut#nct dream hard hours
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You’re gonna be ok
Content ✮ angst, fluff, blood, medical equipment/hospitalization, teen!Satoru x teen!reader
Summary ✮ you were thrown into a coma instantly upon impact, your life flashing before your eyes while Satoru races against the clock to save your life, but at what cost?
Word count ✮ 3.8k
Feel free to read Part 1 to understand the story more!
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You felt at peace.
Weightless.
Calm.
Cold.
So…damn cold.
As you opened your eyes you found yourself in your childhood bedroom, well, one of many. The warm morning sun peaked through the curtains as the blew in the morning wind. The walls painted that terrible, sad yellow color. Your bookshelves filled with different stories from all over the world, written in all their different languages.
Your mother was a traveler. A woman who found all places on the earth her home. If she wasn’t touching the freshly cut grass between her toes, breathing in the cool, refreshing night air, she didn’t want it.
“Morning sweetie,” your mother spoke. You could hear her smile, “I got you some breakfast from the bakery! It’s your favorite!~” your mother came and sat on the bed with you.
You sat up so she wouldn’t sit on your feet. You held your hands out and she placed the pastry in your hands, crumbs falling all over your comforter.
You didn’t feel right, but you didn’t know why. You knew there was something off. You couldn’t remember how you got here or what happened before now. But you smiled, that feeling slowly slipping away, “thanks, mom. Looks amazing,” you took a bite of the pastry, taking in all the sweetness, all the saltiness.
“So…” your mothers face perked up, “what do you wanna do today?”
“Hm?” You responded, licking your thumb clean, “oh umm…I dont know. Maybe a walk?”
“Sounds perfect. While you finish up here, I’ll go get our stuff packed so we can catch our flight tonight, ‘kay?”
You loved your mother. The way she always knew how to make you feel better, how to make you laugh you felt you never could again. The way she always picked the best spot for brunch. It felt like you really needed that right now, but you couldn’t tell why.
Once you finished up the pastry, you sat up and began get ready for the day. You walked over to the bathroom, feeling the cold, small checker tiled floor beneath your toes. As you turned on the water, you felt your mothers eyes on you.
“Here’s so new clothing, thought you might need them before I closed up the suitcases. Just set your dirty ones out the door. Love you sweetie.”
“Thanks mom, love you too.”
As you began taking off your clothing, you heard someone yell your name in the distance. It sounded like they were scared? You snapped your head around, looking for whoever yelled for you. It didn’t sound like your mother, but it sounded like a man. A man you felt you’ve heard the voice of before, but couldn’t quite match a face to.
You shook off the feeling and finished getting undressed, throwing the clothing in front of the bathroom door.
Once your shower was over, you hopped out and began drying yourself off, then getting dressed.
As you brushed your teeth, you felt a pain in your chest. It was a light, easily forgettable pain. You rubbed your chest a little, trying to ease the soft ache. Soon enough it was gone.
You spat the toothpaste remnants into the sink and walked out, going to meet your mother by the front door. Of course she was there waiting for you. She helped you put away your toothbrush and some other toiletries, and rezipped the suitcase.
“Ready for our walk?”
“I was born ready,” the two of you laughed as you walked out the door.
(Y/n)!
It felt like you blinked and suddenly you were walking through a forest, listening to the trees hiss in the wind. As the mulch crunched between your shoes, you looked over at your mother, who was also enjoying the scenery and listening to the birds sing.
You began to remember more about the years you’ve spent with your mother traveling the world. The two of you started when you were very young, about 6 or 7.
She pulled you out of school, telling you that school was to restricting for a child as wonderous as you. You said goodbye to all your friends, and then you were off. You had to admit, you loved traveling with her. But you missed the mundane. You missed going to school, you missed homework and studying.
You stopped walking.
“Everything of sweetie?” Your mother asked you, turning around to face you.
“Mom…” your eyes welled up in tears.
“Oh sweetie what’s wrong?” She cupped your cheeks in the palms of her hands, wiping away the falling tears.
“I don’t wanna leave…”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean…” you choked on your tears, “I wanna start being normal again…I don’t wanna travel anymore. I wanna have real friends, a routine…I wanna have a boyfriend or a girlfriend…I wanna go to school and…and,” you couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, falling to your knees. Your mother followed, “I know you must be upset- you must be thinking how ungrateful I am- how anyone my age would love to be doing what I’m doing but-“
“Sssssh baby it’s ok,” she brought you to her chest as you cried, and so did she, “I would never be upset with you for voicing your feelings baby…” she began to rock back and forth slightly, “I’ll do whatever in my power to give you everything and more of what you want, and I promise you that,” she pulled your face away from her chest, “I know someone who I can call who can get you back into schooling…you’re a very smart kid and I know you’ll do just fine without me,”
She pecked your forehead with a kiss, “don’t you forget about me, ok?”
“Ok…I love you mom,”
“I love you too, sweetie,”
So damn cold.
~~~ Satoru’s POV ~~~
It felt like Satoru couldn’t breathe. Satoru had been chasing around damn curse for what felt like hours to him, but finally it had been exercised. Satoru looked around at the destroyed neighborhood around him, watching as the sun finally began to shine over the buildings.
He spat blood onto the pavement, wiping his mouth with the back of his sleeve. Satoru gave myself a second to take a deep breathe and calm down, before remembering you were still bleeding to death.
He ran into a building he purposely lead the curse away from. Satoru had carried your body into a bedroom and laid you down so that youd be more comfortable. When he rushed in, it look liked you had thrown up more blood while unconscious.
This told him he had to act fast. He put to fingers to the nape of your neck and leaned in close to your mouth with his ear.
Your breath and heartbeat were so faint he could barely feel it.
“Please- hold on for me,” he scooped you into his arms, holding you tightly as he began to run.
He felt like he had never ran so fast in his life. Hot tears began forming in hiss eyes as he prayed to whatever the hell was up there to keep you alive. He gripped you tighter, holding you close to his chest.
As Satoru ran, he began to see Yaga in the distance, which surprised him, not expecting to see him here. He didn’t have time to think about that, he was just grateful to see him.
Yaga saw you in Satoru’s arms, and began yelling thing that Satoru couldn’t understand. When he reached them, a few medics ran up to him, but he couldn’t hear them. His ears were ringing, blocking all other noise.
One medic tried to take you from his arms, but he just held you closer to his chest. He didn’t allow anyone to take you away from him. Satoru looked down at your almost lifeless body, his tears falling onto your school uniform. Even in this state, you looked so beautiful.
Satoru fell to his knees, still holding you as tight. Your blood dripped slowly, trailing down Satoru’s hand and arms. He removed his hand from your lower back and pulled your face in close,
“please stay with me…I-“ he choked on his words, inhaling harshly, “I can’t do this without you…”
Yaga put a hand on Satoru’s shoulder, “the only way we’re gonna be able to save them is if you let us. That means you have to let go and let us take them back to the school,”
Satoru looked up at him, your blood and his tears smeared across his skin. He knew Yaga was right, but he was so scared that you’d disappear if he let go.
He looked down at you, taking in at his peaceful you looked, before slowing letting go in you.
The medics sprung into action, pulling you away from Satoru and into a medical van.
Yaga knelt down next to Satoru, reapplying his hand to his shoulder, “they’re gonna be fine- now get up and let’s get you back to the school as well.”
Not only was your life flashing before your eyes, so was his.
~~~ Your POV ~~~
“‘Toru! Fuck off!” You laughed as you were being soaked by a water gun.
“How about you fight back! I’m barely wet!” He continued chasing you around the courtyard, before his water gun eventually ran out of water.
You both looked at each other, standing completely still. You slowly began raising your water run and pointing it at him.
He put his hands and the water gun up, “hey now- we can talk about this,” Satoru slowly began to back up.
“Never!” You yelled, beginning to chase after him and spraying him.
You both laughed, enjoying the last day of year 3 in Jujutsu High. It had been pretty stress free the past couple of days, so you two wanted to make the best of it. You both tried to convince Suguru and Shoko to join, but they had already made plans to go into the city to shop.
So here you two were, playing like little kids with your water guns.
As you were chasing Satoru, you tripped on a rock and fell. You did your best to not catch yourself, not wanting to break your wrists trying. You hit the ground pretty hard, even slid a little.
Satoru stopped running, turning around to look at you. He laughed for a second, walking over to you, “you ok, short stuff?” He reached out his hand to you.
You looked up at him. You stared at him for a moment, admiring his blue eyes through his glasses. You began to admire other parts about him that you hadn’t noticed till now. How his lips seemed so soft, pondering how’d they tasted against yours. Your heart began to race with all these thoughts.
“What you staring at?”
“You of course, what else what I’d be admiring?”
“I’ve always loved how direct you are…now get up before Yaga finds us and yells at us,”
You took is hand, but instead of pulling yourself up, you pulled him down to you,
“Woah!” He yelped, landing right on top of you.
You two stared at one another for a moment. Your faces were so close you could feel one another’s breaths. Your face filled with blush, the tips of your ears grew hot, and so did Satoru.
You wanted to close the gap and kiss his seemingly soft lips so badly.
Satoru cleared his throat, “well uh- we should probably get dried off,”
“Right,”
Satoru pushed himself up and off of you, offering his hand. This time you took it and pulled yourself up. The two of you walked back in awkward silence to your rooms, parting ways without a word.
After you had gotten dried up, you began to wonder the halls in search of Satoru. Your hair was still damp, unable to completely dry your it. You walked for a little before bumping into Suguru, who was just about to enter into his room.
“Suguru!” You ran up to him, “how was your shopping trip with Shoko?”
He looked over to you with the same bland and expression, but smiled like he was happy to see you, “it was good. Shoko got you something, so you should talk to her before she goes to bed.”
“Aww that’s so nice of her, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind. Hey have you seen Satoru? I have to talk to him.”
“Oh, well I haven’t seen him actually. But I would try the roof, he likes to sit up there sometimes.”
“Got it, thank you so much, Suguru!” You waved him off and you went to search for Satoru.
As you made it to the top of the roof, you could see Satoru sitting on the ledge. He had one leg dangling off and the other perched up close to his chest.
“Hey, pancake,” Satoru could sense you standing behind him.
“That’s a new one,” you giggled, taking a seat next to him, “beautiful sunset.”
“Not as beautiful as you,” Satoru leaned his head to look at you.
“‘Toru…”
“Yeah?”
You looked over at him, the sun dancing delicately over his skin. He looked so perfect, “what are we?”
He was a bit taken aback by what your question, “what do you mean?”
“I mean…” you sighed, not wanting to explain yourself, “what am I to you? What are we? I’m starting to get confused…”
Satoru looked away, blush forming lightly on his cheeks, “I don’t know…” he mumbled, “what do you want us to be?” He looked back at you.
You looked down over the edge, swinging your feet and avoiding eye contact, “maybe…” your hand inched closer to his, “maybe I want something more?” You finally looked at him, watching as the suns night orange dimmed against him.
“I’m sorry but…I don’t think I’m quite ready for a relationship…” he replied, grabbing your hand, “but I wouldn’t mind being closer to you, in due time.”
You looked away, small tears forming in your eyes. You felt regretful, “ok, I’ll wait for you then, ok?”
Satoru put his arm around you, pulling you in close, “ok…”
As you closed your eyes and took in a deep breath, when you reopened then a bright light blinded you. You squinted, unable to handle this bright light. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the light.
As your eye’s adjusted, you realized you were in a hospital room and on a ventilator. You had very little memory of what happened before you ended up here, it was all a blur. You attempted to move your head, your neck was stiff and ached. You were able to see all the machines you were hooked up to. You guessed that whatever had happened to you was pretty major.
You turned your head to the other side, seeing Satoru asleep in a reclining chair with a blanket over him. He was facing towards you, so you were able to see his face. You noticed how dry his eyes looked, he must of been crying a whole lot. You tried to move your arm to reach out to him, but you were far too weak.
You resorted to making small grunting sounds, hoping it would wake him up. His eyes shot open immediately, sitting up.
“You’re awake, holy shit you’re away!” He jumped out of the recliner, nearly tripping as he came out to you.
You gave him an extremely weak smile, which he smiled back at, “I’m gonna go get a doctor- so we can get that thing out of you,” he leaned down, giving you a kiss on your forehead and ran out of the room yelling for someone.
When the doctor came in, he was a bit shocked to say the least. He came up to you, putting on gloves, “well hello there! How you feeling?”
Your eyebrows furrowed, knowing you can’t respond.
The doctor chuckled, “yeah I figured you’d give me that look. How about we get this ventilator out of ya’. How does that sound?”
You gave a weak nod as he undid the straps, “now this is gonna be less than comfortable, so don’t hit me when we’re done,” the doctor began pulling the tube out, which made you gag and cough. Once it was out, you let out one last hearty cough before laying your head back down. That throughly sucked.
“So I want to talk about what happened, so that you’re all caught up,” the doctor pulled up a chair next to your bed and sat down.
You looked over at Satoru, who looked down at you at the same time. He gave you a smile, clasping his hand over yours. You had regained enough strength to grip it gently. You looked back at the doctor, ready to listen.
“So when you two were fighting the cursed spirit, you had been hit right through the chest into both of your lungs. That alone should’ve killed you pretty quickly. But because of your cursed technique, you went into fight and solidified your blood around the holes, keeping you alive just long enough to make it here.”
You were pretty shocked to hear that, not knowing your curse techniques was capable of something like that.
“Though, you did get thrown into a tree, which broke your neck upon impact. Between you laying there and getting here, something had happened and it caused you to be temporarily paralyzed from the waist down,” the doctor spoke in a soft tone, knowing this news was going to be hard to hear, “but with some physical therapy, you’ll be back to good a new!”
You let out a sigh of relief, looking back over at Satoru with a smile. But your smile faded when you noticed-
He wasn’t looking at you.
“I’ll give you to some time to yourselves. I’ll be back in later with the physical therapist team,” the doctor preceded to get up and leave, closing the door behind him.
“‘Toru?” You rasped out, your voice extremely harsh.
“I’m sorry…” his voice sounded so harsh, shaky. Was he crying?
“For what? You didn’t do-“
“I’m the reason you’re paralyzed…I was so stupid,” he wiped his eyes with his sleeve, “I was just so scared of loosing you I went as fast as I could back to everyone…” he was sobbing at this point.
Your heart broke seeing him like this. You never wanted to see him cry, let alone be so upset with himself.
“You’ve been in a coma for month, the doctors told me you might never wake up…I couldn’t stand myself- how careless I was with you. I’ve spent every waking moment in this hospital waiting for you to wake up,” he looked back at you, his cheeks stained with tears, “I’m sorry you must hate me,”
“I could never hate you,” you responded, pushing yourself up in the bed with what little strength you had, “I’m here now, aren’t I? You saved me regardless of whether or not you think so,” you put a hand to his cheek.
He leaned into it, putting his hand over yours, “I was so scared…” his eyes were tightly closed, stopping himself from crying.
“I said I’d wait for you didn’t I?” You began crying too, but because you were happy to be alive. Happy to be here with him.
He looked at you and laughed quietly, “yeah…and you better not ever break that promise.”
“I could never,” you smiled up at him.
You two laughed and cried happy tears for a bit. You hoped to heal the part of him that hated himself for everything that happened. But you were taking it one step at a time, pun intended. You had started physical therapy not long after you woke up. They allowed Satoru to help you too, as per your request of course. He couldn’t join you every day, since he had missions to attend. But you worked extra hard on the days he wasn’t there, wanting to be stronger and get stronger.
Soon enough you had started walking without the bars, only needing people to hold your hands. Satoru wasn’t here during this time, being sent out on a month long mission. You had made a ton of progress, working towards being able to walk without help.
You told Satoru that you’d meet him by the front door of the hospital when he came back, which you were doing now.
“Mmmmm I’m getting nervous,” you began tapping your fingers together as you waited
Shoko chuckled, “just be patient. Oh look at that he just texted me-“
“What he say?”
“He said he’s here what did you think he texted me,”
“Oh-“ you giggled to yourself.
Shoko walked out the glass front doors to meet Satoru outside. You saw them talking, then open the doors to come in.
“Now you stay here?” Shoko said, taking a step away from him.
“Why?” Satoru looked confused
“Because,” Shoko gestured over to you, who was now standing on their own.
Satoru looked shocked, not expecting this at all.
“Hi ‘Toru,” tears filled your eyes as you walked up to. You cupped his cheeks in your palms, wiping away his falling tears, “I got discharged today…I can come back to Jujutsu High,”
Satoru hugged you tightly, burying his face into the nape of your neck, “I’m so happy I didn’t lose you…”
You hugged back just as tight, “you could never lose me…”
You two stood there for a second in each others embrace, before pulling away. You started at each other, happy tears your eyes.
Satoru put a hand to your cheek, his thumb lightly rubbing your skin, “I love you.” he spoke softly, only loud enough for you to hear.
Blush scattered over your face, “am I finally done waiting?” You asked quietly, getting a bit excited.
“Yep, you are,” he leaned in close and kissed you. His lips were soft and sweet, just like how you thought they’d be. You leaned into the kiss, taking in this moment thoroughly. He was so gentle with you ever since the accident, but he was especially gentle with you now.
He leaned away, your faces both full of blush. Satoru began placing kisses all over your face, making you giggle, “will you be mine?”
“Mmmm I don’t know, what’s the pay like?”
“Oh fuck you,” he let go of you and turned around, “let’s go going Shoko.”
Shoko laughed, “ok,”
“Wait no I was joking!” You tried to keep up with them but you were to weak to run.
Satoru looked back at you, reaching his hand out you.
You smiled, reaching out and grabbing it tightly. He intertwined your fingers together, walking slowly with you behind Shoko.
You were happy, extremely happy actually. You leaned into Satoru, as did he into you. You knew you had a long way to go before you’d be able to go back on missions, but you were ok with that. As long as you had Satoru and the rest of your friends by your side, you knew you were gonna be ok.
“I love you too, Satoru.”
#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu sorcerer#jujutsu kaisen#jjk gojo x reader#gojo saturo fluff#gojo fluff#jjk x gender neutral reader#jjk x reader#jjk gojo#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#satoru x you#jjk satoru#satoru gojo fluff#gojou satoru x reader#jujutsu gojo#gojo x reader#satoru gojo x reader#gojo satoru x reader#gojo saturo#satoru x reader
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Y/N had always cherished the quiet moments with Bucky, the nights spent in each other's arms, the way he made her feel safe and loved. It had been a whirlwind romance, starting with a chance meeting at a cozy little bookstore in Brooklyn and blossoming into something neither of them had anticipated. They had faced challenges, of course, but their bond only grew stronger.
One particular night stood out in Y/N's mind. It had been a night filled with passion, a night where they had let go of all their worries and simply existed in the moment. The memory of Bucky's touch, his whispered promises, and the way he had made her feel was something she held close to her heart.
A few weeks later, Y/N noticed she was feeling different. There was a persistent nausea in the mornings and an overwhelming sense of fatigue that she couldn't shake. She tried to ignore it at first, attributing it to stress or maybe a lingering cold. But as the days went by, the signs became harder to dismiss.
One sunny afternoon, she decided to take a pregnancy test, more out of a desire to rule out the possibility than anything else. She bought a test from the pharmacy on her way home, her heart pounding in her chest. Back in the safety of her apartment, she followed the instructions and then waited, staring at the small window on the test with bated breath.
When the result appeared, her heart skipped a beat. Two lines. Positive. She was pregnant.
A wave of emotions crashed over her – joy, fear, excitement, uncertainty. She sank onto the edge of the bathtub, clutching the test in her hand. Her mind raced with thoughts of the future, of Bucky, of how this new life would change everything.
Y/N knew she had to tell Bucky, but she wanted it to be special. He deserved a moment that matched the significance of the news. She spent the next few days planning, trying to come up with the perfect way to surprise him. Finally, she settled on an idea that felt just right.
On the evening she planned to tell him, Y/N set the stage carefully. She prepared a cozy dinner at her apartment, filled with all of Bucky's favorite dishes. She decorated the living room with soft, twinkling fairy lights and lit a few candles to create a warm, inviting atmosphere. In the center of the coffee table, she placed a small, neatly wrapped box.
Bucky arrived right on time, as always. He walked through the door with a smile, his eyes lighting up when he saw her. "Hey, doll," he greeted, pulling her into a hug. "Everything looks amazing."
Y/N returned his embrace, her heart fluttering with anticipation. "I wanted tonight to be special," she said, her voice soft but steady.
They enjoyed the meal together, chatting and laughing, the warmth between them palpable. Y/N found herself getting lost in the moment, savoring the time they spent together. But throughout the evening, her gaze kept drifting to the box on the table, her excitement building.
After dinner, they moved to the living room, settling onto the couch. Bucky noticed the box and raised an eyebrow. "What's this?" he asked, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.
Y/N took a deep breath, her nerves tingling. "It's for you," she said, handing him the box. "Go ahead, open it."
Bucky took the box, his fingers deftly unwrapping the ribbon. He lifted the lid and pulled out a small, handcrafted wooden figure. It was a soldier, meticulously carved with intricate detail. He turned it over in his hands, a puzzled expression on his face. Then, he noticed the small, folded piece of paper tucked underneath it. He opened the note, his eyes scanning the words.
"You're going to be a dad."
For a moment, Bucky was silent, his eyes wide as he processed the words. He looked up at Y/N, his expression a mixture of shock and wonder. "Y/N, are you...?"
She nodded, tears of joy brimming in her eyes. "Yes, Bucky. I'm pregnant."
A slow, radiant smile spread across Bucky's face. He reached out, pulling her into a tight embrace. "I can't believe it," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "We're going to have a baby."
They held each other for a long time, the reality of their new future sinking in. Bucky pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. "How do you feel about it?" he asked gently.
"I'm scared," Y/N admitted. "But I'm also incredibly happy. I know it's going to be a big change, but I can't think of anyone else I'd want to go through this with."
Bucky cupped her face in his hands, his touch tender. "We're in this together, Y/N. We'll figure it out, one step at a time."
In the weeks that followed, they navigated the ups and downs of pregnancy together. Bucky was by her side at every doctor's appointment, his protective nature coming to the forefront. He would talk to her belly, whispering sweet words to their growing baby, his excitement and love evident in every gesture.
They spent nights planning and dreaming about their future, imagining the kind of parents they wanted to be. Bucky would often wake up in the middle of the night, just to check on Y/N, his hand resting gently on her growing belly, a look of awe and contentment on his face.
One evening, as they sat together on the couch, Y/N felt a fluttering sensation in her abdomen. She gasped, grabbing Bucky's hand and placing it where she felt the movement. "I think the baby just kicked," she whispered, her eyes wide with wonder.
Bucky's eyes lit up, and he gently pressed his hand against her belly. A moment later, he felt it too – a tiny, almost imperceptible kick. He looked at Y/N, his expression filled with awe. "That's our little one," he said softly, his voice choked with emotion.
As the months passed, their excitement grew along with Y/N's belly. They prepared the nursery together, Bucky carefully assembling the crib and painting the walls a soothing shade of blue. They filled the room with soft toys, books, and little clothes, each item a testament to their love and anticipation.
One night, as they lay in bed, Y/N turned to Bucky, her hand resting on his chest. "I can't wait to see you with our baby," she said, her voice filled with tenderness. "You're going to be an amazing father."
Bucky smiled, his eyes shining with gratitude and love. "And you're going to be the best mother, Y/N. I can't wait to start this journey with you."
Finally, the day arrived. Y/N went into labor, and Bucky was there every step of the way, holding her hand and offering words of encouragement. It was a long and challenging process, but when their baby finally arrived, the room was filled with a sense of profound joy and relief.
Bucky held their newborn daughter in his arms, tears streaming down his face as he looked at her tiny, perfect features. He turned to Y/N, his heart overflowing with love. "She's beautiful," he whispered. "Just like her mother."
Y/N smiled, exhaustion and happiness mingling in her expression. "We did it, Bucky. We brought her into the world."
As they settled into their new life as parents, Bucky and Y/N found that their love only deepened. They faced sleepless nights and countless challenges, but they also experienced moments of pure, unadulterated joy. Their daughter grew, bringing laughter and light into their lives.
And through it all, Bucky and Y/N knew that they were stronger together. Their love had brought them this far, and it would continue to guide them as they embraced the beautiful, unpredictable journey of parenthood.
In those quiet moments, when the world seemed to stand still and they held their daughter close, they knew that they had found something truly extraordinary. A love that could withstand anything, a family that would endure, and a future filled with endless possibilities.
#bucky barnes x you#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes imagine
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Together: Nick Ruffilo
pairing: nick ruffilo x f!reader
cw: mutual masturbation, friends to lovers
word count: 2.1K
author’s note: a little group project done with my buds @circle-with-me, @darksigns-exe, and @malice-ov-mercy <3 i hope y’all are enjoying!
read the others here: folio | noah | jolly
dividers by @saradika-graphics 🌷
The television drones on in the background as you feel your body fully relax. You can hardly remember what movie you’d decided to watch tonight, and you haven’t been paying attention.
You’re bone-tired, not much on your mind besides the sleep you so desperately need. You’ve never missed a movie night with Nick before, though, and he seemed especially excited to see you this week. It’s not in your heart to let him down, and you’re happy to relax with him, sprawl your legs across his lap and maybe have a nap on his sofa while the movie plays. It’s better than an early night alone, you reason.
You’re about to accept the draw of sleep, allowing your eyes to slip closed when you feel his hand inching up your leg. It’s an innocent touch, you think, but you burn all the same.
Suddenly, the room is all too warm.
Judging by the look on his face, gaze steadfast on the television, you’re sure he isn’t even aware of what he’s doing. Your stomach twists, though, at the feeling of his callouses dragging across your exposed skin, his fingertips grazing your shin and sending chills over your body.
It’s never like this with Nick, always purely platonic. There’s admittedly always been a bubbling something in your gut for him, but you haven’t pushed it. It’s been easy to bury thus far, but something is different tonight. Perhaps there was something in his disappointed, almost whiny tone when he could tell you were going to try to cancel. Maybe that gave you hope that this might not be out of the question.
As you move to sit up, your foot grazes over him, decidedly not soft in his jeans. Your mind draws blank and you freeze before settling back down to your previous position.
Seemingly unaware of the chaos going on in your head—the painful, piercing ringing in your ears—his hand finds its way back to your leg.
“Nick,” you say, choked. He looks at you, and it’s that sweet gaze, that soft smile you’ve come to love so much. You’re positive you’ll lose your nerve.
His gaze shifts from you, down to his hand, and back up to your face. He slowly removes his hand from your leg, putting it at his side, embarrassment clear in his expression.
“I’m sorry,” he says, and you’re quick to shake your head. “Was that not okay?”
“No, no, it’s okay,” you respond, and his hand is back on you in a moment. You burn from the inside out. His touch on your bare skin has never felt so much before. “It’s just—”
You gain some bravery when you shift your position again, the sole of your foot grazing the zipper of his jeans. His eyes shoot open, wide when they meet yours.
“I didn’t mean to,” he speaks again. He’s so painfully shy that you find yourself wanting to burrow into him. The nerves that had kicked up in you are almost gone as you pass your foot over him again. “You’re just so… I’m sorry.”
“I’m so what?” you press. He pulls his lip between his teeth, his face twisting with contemplation.
“Warm,” he mutters. His hand has stilled on your leg, but the grip has tightened. You can feel his fingers trembling. “You’re so warm. And close.”
It’s a line you can’t uncross with him. Maybe you’re delirious from your own lack of sleep, but you feel wide awake now. You can’t uncross the line, but you find you want to cross it if he does.
“Do you want me to go somewhere, you know, so you can…” you start, unsure of how exactly to phrase it. A piece of you hopes he’ll say no, he doesn’t want you to go anywhere. You want to stay right where you are. “So you can take care of it.”
He looks to be considering it, and your heart drops, thinking he’ll send you home or get up and excuse himself to his bedroom. Finally, he shakes his head and you settle.
“It’s okay,” he says. “It’ll go away.”
With all the bravery you can muster, you make one final pass with your foot. There’s a look in his eyes when his gaze meets yours that tells you he wants this too. You want to cross this line with him. Maybe you always have.
“Or you could—” you start. You sit up, not to put distance between the two of you, but to get yourself a better view in the hopes that he says yes. “You could show me.”
You’ve long prided yourself in your ability to read people well and Nick has been no exception. As you look at him now, though, you find his expression unreadable. His hand rests on his own leg and you can see it shaking, his eyes are blank. There’s the faintest pink tinge to his cheeks, but you suddenly can’t remember if they’re always like that.
You’re the one who has to be brave and hope he wants to follow you down.
“I can show you, too,” you offer, and his gaze shifts to something you’ve seen before. It’s the same look you’ve seen time and time again, a look you’re now recognizing as hope. He gives you the faintest nod and you smile back at him, overcome with a nervous excitement, a bubbling undercurrent of relief.
“We can’t go back after this,” he says, an edge of fear left in his tone. He’s right—you can’t—you hope that he won’t want to, either. If you allow yourself time to think about it, you’ve wanted this for a long time. “Are you okay with that?”
“I’m okay with that,” you respond, nerves kicking back up momentarily when it doesn’t seem to soothe him. You’ll have to be a little braver. You reach out for him, hand unsteady as it rests over his own on his thigh.
“It’s an unconventional way to start this, but I think I’ve wanted you for a long time, Nicky,” you start, trying your best not to lose your nerve when everything is screaming at you to back down. “Haven’t you?”
For the first time, you find yourself considering that maybe he hasn’t. Maybe he hasn’t wanted this like you have, that it isn’t worth ruining your friendship.
He lifts his hand from his thigh, hesitantly wrapping it around your hip, his trembling fingers kicking against your skin.
“Come here,” he says, gently tugging you closer. You’re more than happy to scramble into his lap. It’s the closest you’ve ever been to him, a fire burning beneath your skin, hyper-aware of every point your bodies are touching. “I need to kiss you first. Can I?”
His hand is already cradling your face and it’s barely a question. Your lips slot together so perfectly that everything blurs. Your skin heats beneath his palm.
You kiss for so long that you almost forget what the plan had been, lost in the feeling of his hand on your face and his lips on yours, kissing across your face.
You know you’ll never be able to help yourself if you let yourself stay this close to him. You want to start it this way—you want to see how he likes it. He makes a weak sound of protest when you separate, taking your spot at the other end of the sofa again.
“Nicky,” you mutter, nudging his leg with your toes. You can see that his situation hasn’t improved, straining against his zipper. Your mouth runs dry, stopping yourself from licking your lips as your eyes glaze over. “Will you let me see you?”
Everything slows as he undoes his jeans and your eyes land on him. He’s bigger than you thought he’d be and you almost want to change the plan, scramble back closer and get your hands on him, your mouth, anything. The sound of his shocked little gasp, his hoarse groan when he wraps his hand around himself brings you back into the moment, into your why, your need to see all of him.
You feel you disappear as you watch him lose himself to his own pleasure, head thrown back against the couch cushion, soft lips parted prettily as he works himself over. He always is, but you think he’s especially gorgeous like this, so open and vulnerable, grip tightening, loosening, tightening around himself, unabashed in the chase for his own high.
A gasp of your name sends shivers straight through you, your gaze shifting from his hand on his cock to his face, his eyes heavily-lidded and boring into you.
“Your turn,” he utters, his hand speeding up momentarily before the pace curtails itself back to a slow drag. It’s teasing and too much at once, to be given the privilege of seeing what he does when he’s alone, desperate in his bunk on the bus or a venue bathroom or late at night in his bedroom. His hand wraps around your ankle and pulls your leg to one side. You burn from the inside out, unsure whether you need to back away or get impossibly closer. “Come on, you said I could see you, too.”
Your hands tremble, filled with a mix of dread and anxious excitement as you pull your bottoms down your legs. The first touch of your hand to your bare skin sends nervous energy shooting through you. As you slide your hand between your legs to graze your clit, your instinct is to close your legs and hide yourself from him; his hand shifting up to your knee to hold your leg in place stops you, looking up at him to find his gaze not on your center, but on your face. The drag of his hand along his cock has sped up, the thrusts into his fists making you feel dizzied and desperate.
You let your eyes slip closed, hoping to quell some of the overwhelm brought on by his warm hand on your skin and his eyes on you. You drag a finger through your slick, focusing back on your clit and you can’t help the gasp of his name, electricity shooting through every inch of your body.
Seeing him is too much, as you allow yourself to open your eyes to him, finding his gaze still not on your center but wholly focused on your face. You itch to be closer, to have his body blanket yours, but you hold out. Something for next time. His thrusts go quicker, sloppy, and you need for it to be this, to have this full view when he cums.
“You look so beautiful,” he says, a little winded as he speaks. It’s so soft, such a lovely contrast to the situation you’ve found yourself in that you find yourself closer and closer to tumbling over. “Keep your eyes on me. I wanna see you when I cum.”
You don’t dare to close your eyes, to shift your gaze away from his. There’s a desperation as you increase the speed of your own end, chasing your high to follow him over the edge. His stare is intense, pretty little gasps tumbling from his mouth as he stills, spilling over his own hand. You let your eyes shift at the last moment, watching as the last of his release trickles over his tattooed fingers and onto the exposed skin of his tummy.
You allow yourself to close your eyes again, a little past the point of controlling the movement of your hips, the desperate trembling of your hand as you let yourself come undone for him. His hand, warm on your leg, grounds you. There’s barely a moment to recover, keeping your eyes closed as you feel the sofa shift beneath your weight and Nick is crawling over you, blanketing your body with his own just like you wanted.
His fingers glide through your hair, bringing your lips to his, and it’s all so different. You feel the draw of sleep again, somehow more content than you thought you’d be with how different it all actually is. You need a shower, you need sleep, and you need to know that he’s on the same page, okay with the change and the inevitability of it all.
“Is this still okay?” you ask, still half-expecting it to burst the bubble and ruin everything. “Everything is going to be different now.”
Same as it’s always been, his gentle nod and the smile that spreads across his face soothe your every worry.
“I like different.”
tagging: @circle-with-me @darksigns-exe @concretenoah @ladyveronikawrites @baddestomens
@broken0mens @somebodyels3 @sitkowski @cookiesupplier @collapsedglasshouses
@abiomens @agravemisstake @bngurngheart @iknownothingpeople @anameunmusical
@itsafullmoon
let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future fics!
#bad omens fic#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens rpf#nick ruffilo fic#nick ruffilo fanfiction#nick ruffilo rpf#nicholas ruffilo fic#nicholas ruffilo fanfiction#nicholas ruffilo rpf#nick ruffilo x f!reader#nicholas ruffilo x f!reader#deathblacksmoke works#fic: together
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misunderstandings
bachelorette series - trailer ▸ part 1 ▸ part 2 ▸ part 3 ▸ part 4
synopsis: y/n watches the most recent episode of the bachelorette and is met with something she doesn’t like. sana also seems to be angry for whatever reason and it builds up into a big argument at the end of the night.
warnings: sex! overstimulation, fingering, scissoring, oral sex, degradation, choking, cursing
w/c: 7.1k
a/n: soooo sorry for the delay this will probs be my last update for a while bcs finals season is driving me up a wall (if u see me post another story or part its bcs im actually not studying and u should yell at me for it) i lwk hate the pacing of this chapter i feel like its everywhere but hey! we got some smut!
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
the backlash wonsik gets online is more than satisfactory. apparently, with all the evidence piled up against him, he would most likely be sent away for the rest of his life. which is disgusting to think about, how much crime do you have to commit to get a life sentence? you try to shake those thoughts as you watch the most recent episode with the leftover contestants while sana’s on her individual date as usual. it was tradition now, even more so as the pool of contestants gets smaller and smaller.
after your day off, things had gotten right back to normal.
sana went on a solo date with jacky. good thing it was jacky too because they had the famous ‘conquer a fear’ date. who knew big, australian jacky was afraid of balloons. and in typical bachelorette fashion, producers came up with a romantic hot air balloon date for 5am in the morning.
costume designers had rushed into your room at 4am, turning on all the lights and pulling sana from your arms, not even casting you a second look now that they were used to seeing the both of you cuddled up and naked most of the time they had to come in and dress you.
you were barely conscious as they ran around frantically, pulling the covers over your head and groaning a little, trying to make yourself go back to sleep.
you’re sure sana didn’t feel the best either from the little grumbles and whines you can hear faintly as she struggles to keep her eyes open while makeup artists dab eyeshadow on her eyelids.
soon enough they're off and you drift back into sleep, only to be awoken a few hours later so you can get dressed and attend the group date for the day.
that was also pretty fun. everything was meant to be high-adrenaline, facing your fears, all that sort of stuff today. so the team had booked out a big amusement park and you all had free rein. it was also good because it meant you had a little bit more freedom, not everyone had to stick together so people ended up splitting up naturally when they wanted to do different rides and you had even managed to sneak sana away from the cameras for a quick make out session in the toilets.
it was a pretty great day and would make for a nice and light episode after the mayhem that happened with wonsik. there was a rose ceremony as always but this time, only 2 people were eliminated. unfortunately you had to say goodbye to dae and nayeon, sana did say it was getting harder and harder to eliminate people because as the more time goes on, the closer you get, and when there's less people in the house, it also facilitates closer relationships. she had to eliminate those two simply because she felt her romantic connection with them wasn't as strong as it was with some of the other contestants. it was rough but that's showbiz.
after 2 more eliminations tonight, it would officially be the quarter finals meaning it would be time for sana to meet all of her last 4 contestants' families and close ones.
currently, you're enjoying an afternoon tea at the contestants' house. as usual, sana was on a solo date with jiwon but there wouldn't be a group date today because there wasn't enough time to film it. instead, the both of you were allowed a little sleep in after yesterday's rude 4am awakening, and a little more time in the afternoon to dress up before the rose ceremony tonight.
the episode had just finished with jacky and sana's date. jacky still won't go near a balloon and he's probably developed a fear of heights on top of that too now but at least it looked pretty on television.
you had teased him when the episode showed him nervously walking around and inspecting the hot air balloon before sana had to basically yank him into the basket. he had his eyes shut tight the entire time, holding on to sana for dear life while they ascended. it was a little cute when sana finally managed to get him to peek his eyes open once they reached their highest altitude, just in time to catch the sunrise, and in exchange for getting over his fear and not backing out of this date with her, she gave him a rose and kissed him on the cheek.
you heard afterwards from eunji that as soon as they touched back down he had jumped out of the basket and laid face down in the grass for about half an hour, just getting used to the feeling of being on the ground again.
they had caught a bit of him on the floor doing exactly that which was pretty hilarious because sana was crouched next to him, poking him and trying to get him to sit up but he just groaned and mumbled something incomprehensibly in response, his rose still clutched tight in his hand, stretched out in front of him.
they cut it off there though, maybe a little for jacky's reputation but you all knew how long he was there for.
after a short break where they show a few scenes of silly occurrences inside the house with the other contestants, and then finding out everyone was invited on the group date that day, except for jacky who was invited but ended up taking the rest of the day off to recuperate and basically laid in bed in the medical office, even skipping the rose ceremony since he already got his rose.
they shot everyone in the car on the way to the amusement park, asking the contestants what they thought was going to happen, if anyone was scared, trying to pull a few comedic clips together, all the anticipation scenes the audience needed to be excited for the date.
eventually, everyone's in the middle of the amusement park with sana and yourself waiting for them in casual clothes. you shift a little as you recall the way you had her gasping into your mouth and your hand up the blue polo shirt she’s wearing on screen only 20 minutes after the introduction and everyone had split off.
in the meantime, while the cameras were running around frantically trying to find sana, they had filled in the gaps with clips of the other contestants, you laugh when momo is practically dragged onto a rollercoaster by jihyo and jun, she’s kicking and screaming but they manage to strap her in and gesture for the roller coaster attendant to go. its one of those really fast ones where it goes from 0 to 100 in seconds so the force pushes all of them back against the seats, poor momo barely has the time to blink and then its over. she’s gasping with her eyes clenched shut while the other two are laughing and pulling her off and along to the next ride.
it’s great being able to watch what happened when you weren’t on screen, and also what sana was up to when you weren’t with her.
you laugh when they show all the contestants clambering onto the carousel, you had all taken some group pictures and some of them were more than silly.
eventually, you get to the rose ceremony, and just as you were on the night, your breath is taken away again with sana in a stunning red dress. she really nailed being on camera, her face was one that was meant to be on screen.
the night starts merrily, everyone's more of a family now, you’re all happy to drink and talk together, and it wasn’t so competitive to get time with sana anymore because there were less contestants.
you frown a little though when the camera shifts to sana and jihyo, they’re sitting very close in one of the more private rooms inside the house.
jihyo’s playing a joke and sana’s laughing, a little flushed, probably from the alcohol as she slaps jihyo’s arm lightheartedly. jihyo preens at the attention, grabbing another drink and offering it to sana who accepts it gratefully and takes a sip.
she hums in satisfaction before speaking up, “so you never did tell me how you broke up with that gym rat…”
jihyo’s laughing a little nervously, twiddling her thumbs a little, “right yeah… i just realised that i made the wrong decision. i was caught up in the newness of everything with him but after that got old, i realised i still loved-“
sana’s eyebrows are shooting up, she’s setting down her drink and clearing her throat.
“sorry.” jihyo flashes an apologetic look over at sana, but sana shakes her head.
“no no it’s okay. be as honest as you can, please. we’re both here because we’re looking for a relationship right? can’t do that if we have any skeletons still in the closet.”
jihyo’s smiling gratefully and then continuing, “he wasn’t it for me. that’s why i broke up with him. i’m sorry for the way i treated you sana, you didn’t deserve that, you never did anything wrong in our relationship and i never really gave you a reason to why we broke up. i hoped by coming on here i may be able to win back a second chance.”
sana hums again, taking a moment to think while jihyo nervously looks at her with wide eyes.
“jihyo… you hurt me a lot when you left.”
“i know! and i’m so so sorry for that! i never want to do that to you again, all i’m asking for is another chance sana.”
she’s shuffling closer, grabbing sana’s hands tightly and imploring with her eyes.
sana looks down at their hands together, taking a breath before looking back up, "look... i'm not going to lie to you... i never really did get over you completely."
what?
"and i wouldn't have kept you in here for this long if i wasn't curious about what you had to say and if i wasn't ready to give you a second chance."
what the actual fuck?
"it wouldn't be fair though. to the other contestants, y'know? if they knew you had a head start. and i admit i was avoiding you a little because i wanted to even the playing field and get to know everyone else first before revisiting this." she makes a gesture with her hands, signaling between the two of them. "so its nice to finally be able to sit down and get a clear answer about what happened in the past."
jihyo looks more and more hopeful as sana goes on, your hands only get tighter around the fabric of your pants. sana didn't tell you about this conversation last night. sana hasn't mentioned anything jihyo related. whenever you ask, she's always managed to change the conversation or misdirect you with the promise of sex. was this why? is this how she really felt about jihyo? did she think you would disapprove? well you do disapprove but that was besides the point.
all of the other contestants don't seem too shocked with this news. it's not too surprising though because they've all lived with jihyo and the one thing they all have in common is sana so there's no doubt they've all discussed each other's feelings for sana, and jihyo probably told them their history as well.
you're fuming though. you can't believe sana didn't tell you something this important. that you're finding this out along with the rest of the country when you were meant to be her best friend here, the one person who was supposed to know everything before everyone.
✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩
the rest of the afternoon goes by in a blur. you can vaguely tell when someone comes up to you and tries to initiate or bring you into the conversation but your mind is swirling with information about sana and jihyo, their past interactions, whether you could decipher any of sana's feelings from observing her.
eventually, it's time for the rose ceremony again and you're still in your head about everything you thought you knew happened yesterday.
you have half the mind to pull sana aside and ask her about it but when you meet sana's eyes, she squints a little and looks away quickly with signs of a pout in her lip.
the night continues like this, the two of you stealing glances at each other only when you think the other isn't looking. when sana starts pulling jihyo aside though, you don't care if she sees the look of disbelief on your face, she doesn't seem to notice anyway, all cozied up to jihyo.
you're averting your head again and downing the rest of your drink in one gulp.
when it's time to read out who gets a rose and who's going home, you're stiff standing next to sana, she's purposely avoiding your gaze as well. the tension between you two was so thick jiwon had come up and asked if something had happened between you two. and technically nothing did happen so you don't really know why sana seems to be angry with you when you were the one who was hurt by yesterday's episode.
the ceremony is brief, you have to say goodbye to jun, and eunji unfortunately but you can barely give them a proper hug as you stare at jihyo who's now made the final four.
after your goodbyes you quickly make your way towards the car, tapping your foot impatiently while waiting for sana to finish saying her goodbyes so you could both go home.
unfortunately, that takes another 20 minutes and you're just about to tell the driver to leave without her when she's sliding into the car, still avoiding your gaze and sitting on the opposite end of the car. normally she's all over you, needing affection after a big day but now you're pretty sure if she moved any further away she'd be falling out the window.
that was fine though. it’s not like you wanted to have an argument with her while the driver could hear you anyway.
the car’s pulling in and she’s opening her door and stalking inside the house without even a second glance towards you.
what the fuck? why was she mad at you now?
you feel almost childish copying her actions and making sure to slam the door on the way in, but if she was acting like this for no reason that only infuriated you more.
you find her in the kitchen, tapping her foot impatiently and waiting for you to come in.
once you’re standing on opposite sides of the counter, you cross your arms and still. she’s leaning on the counter with her hands, staring you down. there was no way you were going to be the first to break. she was the one who had some explaining to do right now, not you.
sana's stubborn as well though, lips pursed and not backing down.
it goes on like this for a few minutes before you finally break, raising an eyebrow and asking coldly, "so do you have anything you want to say to me sana?"
sana scoffs, the tips of her ears red, "do you have anything you want to say y/n?"
"what? no! i don't even know why you're being like this right now! i'm the one who's been left in the dark here."
"oh you're the one who's been left in the dark huh? unbelievable that you're still lying to my face about this. is that how you really feel about her?"
"excuse me?! it doesn't matter how i feel about her! the whole issue is how you've been dealing with this situation!"
sana sneers, your voices getting louder and louder trying to top each other, "this again? seriously y/n? i'm my own person and i'm allowed to have opinions on who i like and who i don't like! if she's being weird or sneaky or whatever i'm going to call her out on it!"
you scoff, "yeah right. like you called her out on it last night? and tonight as well i bet. why did you take so long saying your goodbyes huh?"
sana goes beet red and you think you've got her, "what?! what are you talking about?! and i stayed behind to say proper goodbyes to everyone! not like you apparently who couldn't care less, you barely talked to anyone tonight, when jun, and eunji, who was one of your closest friends here right?! when they had to leave you didn't even look them in the eye when they hugged you!"
"riiiiiiiiiight and you expect me to believe that? you weren't cuddling up and getting a quickie in before you had to go right?"
"what?! what are you talking about y/n?! quickie- what?"
"with jihyo! you stayed behind to talk to her didn't you!?"
"what?! well yeah i did but what does jihyo have to do with any of this?"
"what?! i've been talking about jihyo this whole time what do you mean?"
she's slipping something out of her suit pocket and sliding it across the counter to you. your phone.
"are you fucking serious y/n? you've been talking about jihyo this whole time? what the fuck? why the fuck are you suddenly bringing her up? you're the one who's been going behind my back getting all flirty and friendly with miyeon! after you told me you were just friends?! calling each other babe and sweetie and honey in your texts, how the fuck did you even get her number anyway? how long have you been talking to her huh? how long have you been fucking me while talking to someone else?"
you're scrambling for your phone, unlocking it and scrolling to your messages with miyeon. fuck. sana must have read everything. you don't even remember leaving your phone behind but it must have been with her since the morning. you scroll down the texts and see the most recent messages miyeon has texted you today and you find that sana has been replying to her.
"are you serious sana?! why the fuck did you go through my phone?"
sana turns her head at that, pouting a little, "i didn't mean to! she just kept on texting and i thought it must have been something important if your phone kept going off so i just went in to make sure everything was okay! how was i supposed to know you were basically sexting her behind my back!?"
"we were not sexting oh my god sana! miyeon is my friend we're just friends!"
"why have you been keeping this from me then?! you must like her or something then don't you?!"
"what?! no! and don't talk to me about keeping secrets right now sana!"
"what secrets have i kept from you?!"
"hello?!" you're waving your hands around frantically, "the whole jihyo situation?! why didn't you tell me you never got over her?"
"i never got over- what?!"
"you said so last night! on national fucking television! don't play dumb with me right now sana, and don't try and change the topic on me!"
"i never said that! are you being serious right now? jihyo and i split and it took me a while but you were there for it all! you saw me at my lowest and you helped build me back up! i am over her!"
"why is she in the final four then?"
"oh my god y/n you cannot seriously still be talking about jihyo! i'm over her! the producers wanted her to make it to the final four because they thought they could add some drama in during the home visits or whatever! jihyo and i talked about it last night and i told her why she was still here because i didn't want to keep leading her on! that's why i stayed for longer after the rose ceremony, i just wanted to check on her and make sure she was okay with all of this because i still care about her! i loved her at one point in my life!"
"that's not what i saw in last night's episode!"
"what?!"
"yeah! you and jihyo were all close and snuggly and she told you she still loved you and you said you were going to give her a second chance!"
"y/n i never said any of that." the rage has lifted slightly now, replaced with confusion.
you're breathing heavily, tired from arguing, you and sana had more fights these few weeks that you've been filming than you've had your entire lives together.
you tap out of your messaging app, going to tiktok and searching up last night's bachelorette episode, scrolling past all the funny jacky moments and amusement park shorts, trying to find the part where jihyo and sana were talking. someone had to have posted about it.
"are you serious right now? are you fucking texting miyeon while we're talking?"
"what?! no! sana i told you miyeon and i are just friends! i'm trying to find a clip of you and jihyo last night to show you what i'm talking about!" you find one then and quickly hold it out for sana to see.
she watches the clip replay a few times while you wait defiantly.
after the seventh replay you take your phone back, sighing when you think she has nothing to say for herself.
“y/n…”
“want to explain yourself now? anything else you wanna divulge while you’re at it?”
“what? no y/n i didn’t say any of that. they edited that together. i didn’t say any of that to jihyo i promise.”
you look at her in confusion, looking back to your phone, and then back to her.
“i did pull jihyo aside and we did talk but i never told her that i didn't get over her. y/n you have to believe me baby i- i can call the producers right now, they'll clear everything up." she's reaching for her phone, but the immense relief that she doesn't still have feelings for jihyo washes over you and brings you to action. moving around the counter and taking her phone from her and wrapping her in a hug.
she stills against you, and you're both surprised when you feel your own tears falling down your face, the tension of the night finally getting to you.
"y/n..."
"i'm sorry. i'm sorry i do believe you. this all seems so silly now i hate when we fight. i overreacted with the whole jihyo thing and it could've been solved so easily if i'd just talked to you instead of..."
sana softens against you, wrapping her arms around your waist and carding a hand through your hair. "it's okay baby. i'll talk to the producers tomorrow and make sure they don't pull anything like that again. and after the home visits i promise jihyo is the one who'll be going home."
you sniffle a little, "you don't have to do that for me sana. i swear i was just being..."
"hmm?"
"i don't know i'm tired sana. can we go to bed?"
she hums against you, pulling you both towards the bathroom for your nighttime routines. once you're done, you're climbing into sana's bed and picking up your phone again, scrolling back to your messages with miyeon while waiting for sana to finish her routine and join you.
y/n: heyy sorry i just got my phone back, sana's had it the last few hours because i left it behind so if i seemed weird over text it's because she was messaging you
miyeon: oh it's okay! i did think you sounded a bit off but i just chalked it up to u not feeling well or something. was sana mad when she found out we were texting?
y/n: 😂 how did you know?
miyeon: well i was on the receiving end of her jealousy when she texted me today so that was one clue 😂
y/n: jealousy?
suddenly your phone starts vibrating and miyeon's name flashes across the screen. you pick up hesitantly, "hello?"
"y/n! hey! it's good to actually hear your voice again!"
you chuckle a little, "you too princess. what's up?"
"nothing really, i just wanted to see where your head's at with sana now."
"what do you mean?"
"remember the conversation we had the night i got kicked out? while you were drunk?"
you squint a little, shuffling around in the sheets, "kinda... why?"
"i noticed the way you looked at her, the way you talked about her, even on the first night i think the reason why no one suspected that you weren't just a regular contestant was because i thought, we all thought you also felt the same way we did for sana."
"w-what?"
"you might not have realised it... but i think you were beginning to see it when filming started. do you get jealous when you see sana with the other contestants?"
"i- well- i mean i kinda just thought i was friend jealous though. or like that i just wanted the best for her which was why i was so harsh on contestants in the beginning."
"the way you talk about her over text sounds like its more than that y/n."
"i don't- what- i'm not jealous-"
you barely register that sana's finished with her routine now, sliding into bed next to you and cuddling up immediately. "what are you jealous about?"
you freeze, looking at her like you've been caught with your hand in the cookie jar in the middle of the night.
"is that sana?" you're broken out of it quickly when you hear miyeon's voice over the phone.
sana bristles though, moving away from you and frowning, "are you on the phone with miyeon?"
"i- yeah-"
sana's snatching the phone out of your hand instantly, bringing it up to her ear and speaking into the microphone with a cold sneer, "yes this is sana. can i help you?"
you can't hear miyeon respond but the way sana's speaking sends a lightning rod of arousal down your spine. your mind is still hazy with what miyeon's suggested, and you're thinking about how you hated seeing sana kiss wonsik, how blinded you felt when you thought sana still liked jihyo, what could this mean? how long have you liked sana for? has it always been this way?
you don't realise that sana's features have become less defensive as she talks to miyeon, almost apologetic even when she settles back down next to you, humming in response to something miyeon's said over the phone. she's within proximity again that you can make out miyeon's voice.
"-but i hope you've been doing well and taking care of yourself with all the craziness that comes along with filming."
"yeah thank you miyeon. really. and again i'm so sorry for all the misunderstandings nd i hope you know that eliminating you was definitely a mistake and it was very short-sighted of me but i'm glad that we've finally had a chance to talk where i'm not completely hostile to you."
you can hear the airy giggle of miyeon over the phone, "of course! all the best with the rest of the season sana. maybe we'll see each other on the other side."
sana smiles, "definitely. goodnight miyeon!"
she hangs up and hands your phone back to you, going right back to cuddling as if nothing had happened.
you're trying to pick out what part of that conversation that you overheard bothered you when it hits. "eliminating miyeon was a mistake?" was this the jealousy again?
"weren't you the one saying that?" sana raises an eyebrow at you, brushing her fingers over your side.
"well- i-"
she's giggling now, "i'm just kidding. miyeon just put to rest everything that was on my mind so i have nothing to worry about. i'm sorry for overreacting when i found out you were texting her. you're allowed to have friends, sorry i was trying to micromanage that."
"what was on your mind?"
"hmm y'know... you mostly."
you whine, hitting her lightly while she laughs at you.
"she told me you were just friends and she never meant to make it seem like it was anything else. she also helped me... come to terms with a few things so i'm actually very grateful for that."
"what things?"
"so many questions y/n. are you worried i'm about to steal her away from you?" sana teases.
"what? no! stop teasing-"
she grins, poking your cheek, "i'm keeping that to myself for now okay? i'll probably tell you one day. just not today."
"why not?"
"just because." she smiles, "now let's sleep."
you grumble a little, confused at what miyeon could have told sana, confused with what miyeon told you. there was one thing you did want to test out though...
you lean in quickly and capture sana's lips, taking her a little by surprise but she's quick to reciprocate, closing her eyes and kissing you back.
you're aggressive, climbing on top of her quickly and licking into her. you're trying to figure out if kissing her made you feel anything more. anything that could clue you in on your true feelings for her.
she's breaking away from you panting though, pushing you back slightly when you try to chase after her again, "woah y/n baby baby slow down- what's got you all in a rush?"
your eyes are dark as you look down at her, friends don't normally feel like the world would end if they stopped kissing right? you needed to be back on her, in her, needed to feel her around you, needed to taste her, needed to memorise every single sound she made, you needed her. that was more than just lust right?
"just- just need you please-" you're leaning back in, almost begging.
"no- no y/n stop. tell me what's going on, you're not normally like this."
you groan, head falling to her shoulder, slumping against her. "something stupid miyeon said..." you mumble into her shoulder.
"what did she say?"
you huff against her, "that i had feelings for you."
you hear the gasp sana lets out, her hands at your waist tightening their hold and you groan into her, grinding down a little at the feeling.
she stills you though, hands sliding down to grip your hips, "stop that." her voice is harsh, and you're reminded of the way she talked to miyeon over the phone, all cold and annoyed. it only makes you drip more at the tone of her voice and you whimper a little.
"do you?"
"do i what?" you're distracted, wanting only to kiss her again.
"do you have feelings for me?"
you sigh, "don't know- that's what i'm trying to figure out."
"how are you trying to figure it out?"
"kissing you. touching you. seeing if all of it made me feel something more."
"something more?"
"i don't know. something other than horny."
sana hums before finally loosening her grip. "okay. try it. just promise me you'll tell me what you think afterwards?"
you're quick to latch onto her lips again, mumbling yes and thank you into her.
she bucks her hips up against you and you moan. she was finally giving into her feelings and letting you do what you wanted, expressing herself freely.
“can you- mmf- can you-“
“what what is it baby? what do you need?”
“can you- be mad at me?”
she’s kissing down your neck, nipping slightly as you grind down into her, “i’m not mad at you. we talked about this just then baby.”
“no- i need- can you pretend to be mad?”
she’s licking up to your ear, “i don’t understand baby. can you elaborate?”
“f-fuck sana- can you- just imagine i did like miyeon and i wanted to fuck her-“
you’re scared you said the wrong thing and ruined the mood when she stills under you. then all of a sudden she’s rolling you over and straddling your hips, lips and teeth back at the sensitive parts on your neck. “you like it when i’m mad?”
“g-god yes sana please-“
“whore. you want me to mark you up? make sure everyone knows your mine? mine to ruin?”
“yes yes sana please-“
you moan when you feel her sucking at your collarbone, intending on doing exactly that.
"off." her hands are at the bottom of your shirt tugging, and you scramble up, almost knocking your forehead against hers in haste, you'd laugh but you were so pent up you couldn't think about anything other than her fucking you all night long.
her hands are cold when she slides them up your stomach, cupping your tits and you shiver at the feeling.
"trying to piss me off on purpose bringing up her name into this hm? after we just made up too." she squeezes and you gasp into her, nipples hard against her palms as she runs a thumb over the tip.
"think my pretty baby's going to come for anyone else?" she circles a nipple leaving you twitching, "i'm going to ruin you so that everytime you even come close to coming in the future, you'll only be able to think about me."
she's licking a trail down the middle of your chest, before sucking marks into the sides of your breasts, avoiding your nipples, only tracing them lightly with the tip of her thumb.
you're squirming around under her, begging and crying, eyes clenched shut, hand drifting down towards your folds, trying to alleviate some of the pressure that's built up.
she snatches your hand quickly and pins it above your head, "don't even fucking think about it."
you whine under her, trying to pull away from her grip but she has you completely under her control.
"don't do that baby. you asked for this didn't you? you're going to be a good girl and take it now." her lips come back down on your other tit, sucking and licking again, you're grinding up into nothing, stuck with the feeling of your own sticky arousal.
"p-please sana need- please- more-"
"what do you need baby? this?" she takes a nipple into her mouth then, sucking gently and flicking over it with her tongue, then popping it out of her mouth, "or this?" a hand trails lower, thumbing the waistband of your pyjama bottoms. "maybe this?" a knee comes up then, pressing right where you need her most and you’re moaning against her.
"g-god sana- fuck- all- all of it- god i need all of it-"
"be more specific sweetie. you can do it. c'mon now."
"f-fuck need you to fuck me like you said you would. need to feel your fingers inside me, your mouth wrapped around my clit, your hands gripping my ass so hard it'll leave behind handprints. just need you sana please- please-"
"mmm that's a good girl. begging for me like the slut you are. because you were so pretty i'll give you that. but you gotta talk me through it okay? if you stop i'll stop and i'm going to go fuck myself in your bed and leave you here for the rest of the night."
you whimper, nodding your head.
"words baby."
"yes, yes yes god please just-"
she smirks and then she's back at your nipples, fully sucking on them now and pulling your bottoms off along with your panties, immediately swiping a finger through your wetness. the sudden change from feeling nothing to feeling everything be stimulated was almost too much but also exactly what you needed.
"god sana please- inside- need you inside."
she's pushing one finger in and you feel yourself clench around her, already so close, desperate for her. suddenly you're remembering your actual task, but before you can formulate another thought she's pulling out and thrusting back in with another finger.
"god you're so wet for me baby. how long have you been thinking about this hm?"
"i- fuck- i'm never not thinking about you sana."
sana hums, keeping a slow, languid pace, "is that helping with your little mission tonight?"
"i- w- fuck sana faster please-"
"answer the question first."
"f-fuck i- i don't know- i c-can't think- please-"
she's pulling out and removing herself from you so that none of your skin is touching anymore.
"now? now can you think?"
"sana please fuck- yes! yes it's helping everything is helping please just need you back-" you're making grabby hands at her, trying to pull her back so you can feel her against you again.
she obliges, pushing back into you and humming, "that's a good girl."
"thank you- god sana- thank you- mm fuck thank you-" you're babbling, barely making sense when she speeds up, curling her fingers inside you just the way she knows you like, and rubbing her thumb along your clit each thrust inside.
soon enough, you're coming around her, her name and curses spilling out of your mouth but she's not done. she's crawling down your body, marking almost every inch of skin she can get her mouth on, and then latching onto your clit and sucking, fingers still pounding into you.
"f-fuck! sana! 's too much! f-fuck-"
she only hums against you, the vibrations against your clit only tightening the coil in your belly once more and the overstimulation is too much and you feel yourself coming again.
she's pulling out and you think she's finished but she flips you onto your stomach, slipping a pillow under you to lift your ass up, hands gripping the cheeks and spreading them apart, just like how you had begged her to. but then her fingers are prodding at your entrance again and she slides in, and this angle is so much deeper and you cry out, muffled against the sheets, trying to squirm away from her but she's got your ass right where she wants you.
she's leaning down, pushing in and out of you again, you can feel her chest against your back, the fact that she's still wearing her top fleetingly crosses your mind but you can still feel her hardened nipples against your skin, you arch back into her.
"my baby's not done yet. you're going to give me another one. and another one. until you've finished your little experiment right?"
you're sobbing into the sheets, the delightful mixture of pleasure and pain running through your body, your hyperaware of every single movement, every single place your skin touches, every breath she takes as she ruts her fingers into you.
you feel your third orgasm coming up when a hand is snaking a way back up your body, pinching roughly at your nipples before closing around your throat. you gulp and clench even harder around her fingers when she squeezes her hand lightly, moaning your approval.
"yeah? you like that slut?"
"y-yes o-oh god fuck- sana- fuck-"
she's squeezing tighter now and the pressure is perfect, the lightheadedness from the cutoff of oxygen combined with the overstimulation and you're coming again, thrashing into her as she releases you slowly, heaving in air as specks of black dot your vision.
you feel almost numb when she slides the pillow out from under you, turning you slightly so she can kiss you gently, and you moan at the taste of yourself on her tongue.
she's slipping a leg between yours when you realise that she's taken off her bottoms, and you gasp when the feeling of her wetness glides against your clit.
you whimper against her lips, "sana..."
"shhhh baby one more."
you're helpless against her, whining and pushing yourself into her, relishing the way her breath catches and she moans when your clits drag along each other. she's got one hand at your tit again, pinching a nipple and you need to feel more of her so you slide a hand up her top, grasping at her breast and moaning when she rocks against you just a little harder at the feeling.
your lips never leave each other, even when you're so blissed out you're just panting into her mouth, rutting against her. you're not even thinking straight when you mumble the words, slurred together and mixed with curses, but sana still catches it. "i love you."
she stops immediately, leaving you humping her like a dog, panting into her wondering why she's stopped.
she's gripping your hips, stilling you, eyes wide, "what did you just say?"
"i love you sana fuck- please- please let me come again please-"
her eyes study you, half-dazed, and then suddenly she's rutting against you again, your hands tighten around her tits just to be able to hold onto something because she's pushing against you and you're so close and her hands are basically moving your hips against hers without you even doing anything, she's moaning into your mouth, caught in her own pleasure and it's all too much when you feel her tighten her legs around you, coming with a whine and shaking, you come again, eyes closing and feeling the wave of pleasure wash over your body, twitching lightly against her in the aftershock.
when you pull apart your legs are sticky and filthy and hers aren't much better, stained with your essence, you can't even open your eyes, just letting her plant light kisses across your face and neck, holding her against you and learning to breathe again.
when she kisses your eyelids you manage to peek open, staring at her in wonder.
"did you mean it?" her eyebrows are slightly furrowed, hair sticking to her forehead, bottom lip protruding a little in a pout.
you were overcome with pleasure and overstimulation, but you remember everything you said. "i did. i love you. i'm sorry it took this long to realise it."
she sighs, eyes tearing up, "i love you too idiot."
"what about the season?"
"we'll figure that out later. let me clean you up and we can cuddle and sleep?"
you hum, whining when she leaves you to grab a damp towel, missing her warmth already. it felt painful to be without her. every second you spent apart, you were thinking about her, you can't help but laugh at how stupid you've been. you've been in love with sana for the better half of your life, you were determined to make it up to her. to show her just how much you loved her. just how much you needed her in your life.
you smile happily when she comes back, bringing her into a sweet kiss and letting her wipe at your legs. you were so, utterly, in love with her, and you finally realised it.
#sana#twice sana#minatozaki sana#sana x reader#twice x reader#sana imagines#twice imagines#sana smut#twice smut#sana x f!reader#sana x fem!reader#twice x f!reader#twice x fem!reader#royaltozaki
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Hello, can I get a large mocha latte for Ushijima?
Celebrating An Anniversary With Your Husband
word count: 791 || avg. reading time: 3 mins.
pairing: post-time skip husband!Ushijima x chubby!Reader
genre: fluff with some suggestiveness
warnings: spoilers, mdni, mild swearing
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“To a wonderful evening.“
Wakatoshi raised his glass. You beamed as you did the same and gently clinked it against his.
The champagne prickled on your tongue and you watched him cut a generous first bite off his steak to then carefully place it on the side of your plate.
“Thank you, honey.“
He smiled, looking satisfied as he began to cut a piece for himself.
“You‘re welcome, sweetheart. And please make sure to order dessert later. You will need your energy as I intend to make love to you often and thoroughly tonight.“
You choked on your next sip of the sparkling wine. The coughing made some other guests turn around in annoyance but you stared incredulously at your husband who, completely unfazed, poured you a glass of water and handed it across the table.
“Uhm, Toshi?”
“Yes, my love?”
Your cheeks were burning and you were glad for the cold water, the glass slightly trembling in your fingers.
“What- I mean. What?”
He furrowed his brow in confusion.
“I mean… you usually don’t uhm… announce something like that.”
“Oh.”, he shrugged and went back to his steak, “I wanted to try something different.”
“Different.”
He nodded and didn’t elaborate.
“So, I'm not complaining - and I will get that dessert later - but what brought this on?”
“I called Satori for advice and he said I should be more open with my intentions towards you. He said that… hm, one moment, sweetheart.”
You watched open mouthed as he reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket that hung over the back of the chair and produced a neatly folded piece of paper. Opening it for reference as it seemed he read, “Let her know she is desirable by flirting - such as: telling her she looks/smells nice, kissing her in public, letting her know that you can’t wait to be alone with her or - more advanced - let her know you want to sleep with her later that day.” He folded the note again and tucked it away.
Your cheeks were burning and the pasta you had been so eagerly anticipating a few minutes ago, still steamed expectantly but untouched on the plate before you.
Toshi had done all of these things today. Before you left for the restaurant he had complimented both how your dress fit beautifully around your chubby figure and your perfume, had caught you very off guard by kissing you deeply in the parking lot on your way to the door and now this.
“Uhm, could I see that paper for a second, please?“
“Of course.“
He reached back into the pocket and handed it to you.
Clearing your throat you opened it and were stunned by the amount of notes. At the very top were what seemed to be suggestions for date locations for your anniversary.
Toshi had circled “dinner at a fancy restaurant you know she likes“.
Underneath was a myriad of things to do after the date. Some of them sweet, like going for a stroll in the park, but the other 95 percent detailed things to do in the bedroom. All of them circled - some with extra notes next to it explaining what they meant exactly.
“I see.“, you croaked, returning the note. You felt very warm all of the sudden.
Voice shaking a little in your flustered state, you asked, “What brought this on?“
“Do you remember when I went out to have a drink with the team a few weeks ago?“
You nodded.
“At first we talked about volleyball and eventually Hoshiumi-kun moved the conversation to our spouses.“
You nodded again.
“At that point a group of strangers joined the table because nothing else was free. As we talked, they noted that Tobio and I didn't seem to have a lot to offer besides good looks and they wondered how we were even married, since we are so boring.“
You scoffed loudly.
“Oh, just point me in their direction, babe. It‘s on sight.“ How dare these pathetic losers! Your shoulders shook with anger.
“You are not boring, Toshi!“, you said firmly and he looked genuinely surprised at your sudden outburst, “You are loving and wonderful and dependable, you make me laugh and feel safe and if that‘s boring to those jerks then they can just go f- fly a kite!“ Suddenly remembering your surroundings you opted for milder words.
Toshi‘s large warm hand laid itself soothingly over your clenched fist next to your plate, rubbing his thumb gently over your skin.
“Thank you for saying that, sweetheart. I love you.“
“I love you, too.“
“Would you prefer if I‘d dismiss the list?“
“Well… maybe not all of it.“, you winked and he nodded, signaling over a waiter to order extra dessert.
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a/n: thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to write something for him! Love him ^^ I hope you enjoyed it 🌟
#sunnys cozy cafe#ushijima x chubby reader#haikyuu x chubby reader#chubby reader#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x reader#ushijima x reader#ushijima fluff#ushijima wakatoshi#haikyuu ushijima#hq ushijima#ushijima x you#ushijima x y/n
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head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 23.
Summary: A conversation between you and Oliver as you both try to distract yourselves from thinking about the day behind, and the night ahead.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
A/N: 2957 words. i split the henrys dinner into two parts because the dinner itself was very different tonally to the conversation with oliver that needed to be had i think. this part is sfw but the next part Will Definitely Not Be :) also im putting more gratuitous shakespeare mentions because i love characters pointing out their own narrative parallels. i feed off of the lovely comments y'all leave, so if you have any thoughts you'd like to share, i always love to hear them!
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
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No matter what you wore, these formal events made you feel like you were choking.
Oliver finds you in the shared bathroom a few hours before dinner began, already dressed and agitatedly fussing with your collar in the mirror. Spotting him in the reflection, your scowl doesn't clear, but you do start vocalising the thoughts that had been running through your head.
"Lady Daphne has three children, all under fifteen."
"What?" Oliver, still looking entirely casual in sharp contrast to you, leans against the sink, watching you with interest.
"Tonight; the woman next to you who isn't Ven, she has three children under fifteen, their names are -" squeezing your eyes closed tightly, willing yourself to remember, you swear with frustration as the children's names elude you. You'd managed to find and memorise Henry of Suffolk's children's names - Henry Jr and Charlotte - but you're again feeling like it's not enough. Your collar feels too tight.
Unbuttoning your top button for what must be the fifth time in the past half hour of your indecision, you groan with frustration.
"Are you okay?" Oliver asks carefully, to which you try and waive off his concern. Clearly, it doesn't work, considering he's making his way over to you to rest a gentle hand on your shoulder.
"I'm fine, it's fine," you tried again, though it still comes out with clear irritation. Closing your eyes again you try and calm yourself enough to focus, "I saw their names the other night in my notes, I know this," you hissed under your breath, "Lady Daphne and Lord Henry; he's Sir James' godson and his own sons are named..." you wrinkled your nose, braced against the counter, "they're fucking French names, I know this!"
"Are Lady Daphne and Lord Henry French?" Oliver asks.
"No, they're just pretentious," you bit out, though suddenly it came to you, "Regis, Gabriel, and Louis." A grin lights up your face at that; the tension leaves you for the moment in the wake of your small victory. You feel like you can breathe again. Oliver gives you a hesitant smile, at least glad to see you're feeling better for having finally remembered. Breathing a relief sigh, you turn to him properly, "how are you, Ollie?"
"Should I remember Regis, Gabriel, and Louis at dinner?" He asks with faint hesitancy. You shrugged.
"I'm sure it couldn't hurt," logically you knew your own anxious preparations were often too detailed for what the night would actually require, but if you had information that could help ease Oliver into this world to which he was unaccustomed, you'd offer whatever you could to make him feel prepared.
But when he asks if you want to stay with him while he gets himself ready for the evening, you still find yourself hesitating.
Farleigh had found you that afternoon as you'd been coming back in from your gardening; he looked more than a little irritated, but refused to explain his mood. There was something unusually guarded about him at the time, something almost bordering on reproachful in the way he looked at you.
As your heart sank with realisation, you tried to find a way to explain to him everything that had happened between you, Felix, and Oliver. The tricky part of it all would most certainly be reassuring him that you believed him entirely, while also figuring out a way to explain why you'd given Oliver another chance despite knowing he was lying to you and Felix. There was no way you'd be able to explain yourself in this moment, and Farleigh seemed to realise this too.
"If you have something to say to me," Farleigh told you tersely, glancing over his shoulder where you could both hear Felix chattering loudly to Oliver down another corridor, "if you can bare to tear yourself away from your darling, little Iago," he spits, and you sighed deeply, expression clearly showing your disappointment, which Farleigh paid no mind to, standing to his full height and fixing his cool gaze upon you, "you know where I'll be."
So now, here you were, after almost an hour trying and failing to distract yourself by skimming through Shakespeare's Othello since Farleigh's latest cruel nickname for Oliver had reminded you of it, you'd decided to bite the bullet and get yourself ready. Really you should head over to Farleigh's room and sort things out with him, talk everything through and smooth it all over, but Oliver looks so helpless at the mere thought of what tonight would require. You tell yourself you can always talk to Farleigh later.
The afternoon eases itself into early evening with far less tension than the middle of the day had brought with it. Simply being in Oliver's company does wonders for your nerves. Even if talk between you is limited, the silence is not uncomfortable; Oliver gets himself ready, and you continue to skim the play while splayed out on Oliver's bed, and the duvet that used to be yours, easing each other's anxieties in quiet parallel.
You're looking for a quote you half remember from when you'd studied the play back in high school, a line that would be all too fitting of an offer to Farleigh when you saw him next, picking up on his allusion while trying to assure him you weren't just blindly believing Oliver over him - there.
I am not merry; but I do beguile
The thing I am, by seeming otherwise.
You keep the text open on the bedspread before you as Oliver asks you questions about the unspoken scripts that you all must follow throughout the night. There's something like vindication that wells up within you when you realise how easy you find it to talk him through them.
"Do you always wear suits to these things?" Oliver asks carefully in the intimate moment in which you stand before him, doing up the cuffs of his dress shirt.
"The Henrys dinners? Yes," you nod, nimble fingers dancing against the fabric by his wrist. An amused smile makes it's way across your lips as you explain without even really thinking, "the first and last time I wore a cocktail dress to a Henrys dinner I made one of them, Henry Rochester I think, very uncomfortable," you smirked at the memory, and though Oliver's glad to see you're more smug rather than uncomfortable about the memory, he still doesn't quite seem to understand why.
"Because you're...?"
"Technically yes," you huffed a laugh, letting go of the first cuff to do the second, "because he now gets hard thinking about me in a dress and he doesn't know how to feel about it, and I don't want to deal with that." For a moment, the words simmer in the air between you both, and you finish up with the second cuff, stepping back with a pleased little smile. Oliver, however, still seems to be confused, and finally you acquiesce, giving him the final piece of the story;
"It was a very nice dress, Henry was just so bloody wasted he forgot I was the one wearing it when he couldn't see my face when he walked in on Fi and I in the wine cellar decided to stick around and watch with his dick in his hand," you shook your head dismissively at the memory, rolling your eyes but still grinning, "which isn't our fault, it's our wine cellar, he's the one getting drunk and going for a roam on someone else's estate."
It startles a laugh out of Oliver, the sound bright and sharp as his hand comes up reflexively to cover his mouth. Your expression scrunches up, pleased at the sound. In the few moments that follow, you straighten out Oliver's collar as he's giggling to himself, watching you from behind his hand with warmth and something almost adoring.
"I should show you some time," you wet your lips, crossing your arms as you gave him a leering look over, your intentions obvious. Oliver flushes a little, smiling under your gaze.
"The dress?"
"The wine cellar," you corrected, making Oliver laugh once more.
"You sure you're not going to get me drunk and brick me in down there?" He asked, and your eyebrows rose at the unexpected reference to Poe's Cask of Amontillado. At your obvious surprise, Oliver gives a half smile, reminding you that you'd left a book of Poe's work in the drawer by his bed. He'd read it? You're not sure why you're so touched by that, but you are.
"If we end up drunk in the wine cellar, I promise I won't be leaving you alone down there," there's a surprising amount of affection in your voice for what is ultimately some pretty on the nose flirting, but Oliver seems to appreciate it nonetheless.
When you return from your own room with a pair of cufflinks for him, however, his expression is pensive as he's sitting on the edge of the bed, flicking through the copy of Othello you'd left there.
"Thought my party had something to do with the Midsummer Night's Dream one," he says with faint confusion. You've already got the line you'd found earlier memorised, so you're not concerned that he's flicking through, losing your page in the process.
"No, it is, it's just Farleigh -" except you really don't want to tell Oliver exactly what Farleigh had called him, had implied about him with a single, derisive nickname alone. Iago. You shrugged, "he just said something earlier that reminded me of it is all." Then, sitting down beside him, you shoot for a smile, "what are you up to now; tie?"
For a long few moments, Oliver gives you this utterly unreadable expression. You wonder if he knows the play; if he did, he could almost definitely make an educated guess about what Farleigh's comment may have been, especially given the very recent circumstances. Even if you don't know exactly how Oliver would react to something like that, you're not exactly eager to find out.
The moment thankfully does pass without further comment on the play, with Oliver instead standing and heading to the full length mirror by the wardrobe.
"Is your family helping Felix's with paying for Farleigh's uni and stuff?" Oliver asks with genuine curiosity in his voice as he glances at you in the mirror's reflection.
"What?" The question seems to come out of nowhere, and your reaction is entirely genuine.
"I just wondered if that was, you know, part of the reason he was so loyal to you," Oliver shrugged, though there's something almost apologetic in his eyes, "and, I guess, why you knew you could trust him to be so loyal?"
How did he even know the Cattons were helping with Farleigh's education? Your suspicions were with Elspeth, whom you loved despite how much of a gossip she always was, but Oliver admits that Felix had told him about how he and Farleigh were cousins, and Sir James' guilt over his semi-estranged sister, all the way back at Oxford. Ah, makes sense. Part of it was probably to explain why Farleigh was always hanging around them despite his obvious distaste for Oliver. It takes you a beat to compose your thoughts; knowing both Oliver, and Farleigh, you had to be deliberately sure of whatever information you shared in this moment.
"I'd give Farleigh anything if he asked," you admitted, wearing a faint, sad little smile as you recall how coldly he'd looked at you earlier that day, "but he never has," you shook your head, "not about something like that at least. Why?"
Looking over at the mirror, you see Oliver with his tie done up, looking at you in the reflection as though you're a puzzle he's desperately attempting to solve. But, when you smile, he returns the look in kind.
"I think this might just be one of those times where I have to remember you telling me there's more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in my philosophy," Oliver says with a wry smile, and you can't help but laugh at the memory of your first proper conversation with him about your friendship with Farleigh on one of Oxford's many rooves.
"Farleigh is simply one of my best friends; I don't begrudge him his pride, it's part of who he is, and I love who he is," with your warm laughter, the mood in the room has lightened considerably, and you finally stand. Wrapping your arms around Oliver from behind, perching your chin on his shoulder, you take in the sight of you both in the mirror.
"You know, I think you'd look so beautiful in a dress if you ever wanted to wear one," you tell Oliver idly, handing over the box with the little, golden cufflinks that you'd been fidgeting with on the bed.
"Beautiful enough to give an old man a sexuality crisis?" He asked with a blithe grin, pulling out of your grip if only to make his way to the cupboard where his jacket had been hung.
"Oh, undoubtably," you don't even hesitate, sitting yourself in the arm chair by the window, watching him once more.
"Don't know if I could start with a cocktail dress," he says, gazing at himself in the mirror with a pleasantly thoughtful look in his eyes as he genuinely considers the idea. Then, "I think I trust you with this more than I trust me," he gives a suddenly self conscious chuckle, ducking his gaze, fidgeting with the collar of the jacket he was still holding.
"You don't have to start anywhere if you don't want," you assured him faintly, but Oliver's smile is so damn affectionate.
"It's fuckin' impossible to describe the kind of effect you have," he tells you, shaking his head, "if you say I'd look beautiful, all I know is that I think I want to look beautiful, just so long as it's you who's looking at me."
"I feel very lucky sometimes," you give an endeared hum at his words, grinning to yourself, "my beautiful boys." Oliver, jacket now on, freezes. He's turning a delightful shade of red at that, looking like he was trying and failing to fight off a pleased grin. Finally, he meets your gaze in the mirror, "would you let me put together a costume for you, for your birthday?"
"What?"
"It's a costume party after all, could I put together a costume for you? Not a cocktail dress, I promise," you teased, and Oliver finally turned back to you, regarding you with nothing but love and affection.
"You know, sometimes I still can't believe you give me the time of day," the words almost seem to surprise him as they leave his lips. Something in your chest tightens, and you pause, once again caught off guard by Oliver Quick. There's a sweetness to the way he speaks that has butterflies fluttering so strangely in your stomach, "you're so..." he turns the words over in his mind, looking for the correct one, before he finally settles, "you're a dream," he says simply, "I don't think you don't get enough credit."
His words fill the sudden silence of the early evening as he steps towards you, cufflinks in hand, offering them as a silent request for assistance. You agree without even thinking.
In the back of your mind, you hear Farleigh calling Oliver Iago, but you can't bring yourself to care. Yes, Oliver spent enough time around you, observing you, talking to you, being in your space, that he knows exactly what to say and how to say it to endear himself to you. Clearly he's genuinely fond of you, but it's not often he gives you a compliment like this. Everything always so deliberate.
But it feels so fucking good to have someone put in the effort for you, someone other than Felix. Felix had always known how you worked, what songs to sing to make you dance if the whim ever struck him. It almost overwhelms you to realise that Oliver had learned how to hum along to the quiet song your heart sings too.
You wonder if you should tell Oliver that he doesn't need to try and manipulate his way into your life, that you'd already made a place for him here, all he had to do was ask to stay.
"I keep giving you the time of day because I'm very, very vain," you can't bring yourself to face his sincerity with any of your own, or you think you may either start crying, or possibly jump his bones, and it's too close to dinner for either. Instead, you grin from ear to ear, teasing tone letting him know how clearly you were joking, as you fixed the first cufflink to his jacket's sleeve, "and you keep saying lovely things about me."
"Lucky for me then that I don't think I'll ever run out of lovely things to say about you," you'd forgotten just how well Oliver could flirt when he really wanted to. Eyes bright and smile brighter, you can see mischief sparkling in his eyes when you look up, meeting his gaze. You love this boy so much it feels like it hurts at times like this.
"Think that means I should keep you very close by, at all times."
"Very few places I'd rather be, sweetheart."
That beautiful bastard knew exactly what he was doing to you.
Later, out of this space, out of this moment, out of Oliver's arms, you could go back to worrying about the night, about all the lies oscillating around your whole situation, about Felix and Farleigh and Venetia. Later, you'll find yourself thinking that Farleigh may have had far more of a point with Othello than you'd first realised when you read 'one that loved not too wisely, but too well' before you put the text back on the shelf.
Later.
Right now, you let Oliver pull you in for a kiss.
#felix catton x reader x oliver quick#felix catton x reader#saltburn x reader#saltburn imagine#felix catton imagine#oliver quick x reader#felix catton x y/n#felix catton x you#oliver quick imagine#oliver quick x y/n#oliver quick x you#venetia catton imagine#venetia catton x you#venetia catton x reader#venetia catton x reader x felix catton#head heart hand fic#manic writer
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Could we get strade taunting MC that, after months or more of being locked up by him already, he knows no one is searching for them and barely anything was done about them being missing (maybe MC was angry and tried to bluff about it?)
Bonus: Strade comparing MC to Ren, how big of a loser both are (albeit maybe in different ways), how easy they were to fool and catch, like lost puppies waiting for the love no one gave them in the cold world out there. Now all his to do with what he wants.
Compared to being alone and having no one waiting for you it suddenly doesn't seem so bad, right?
these prompts got away from me. i'm only a human being give me a breakkkkk
3800+ words, i want two boyfriends and i want the boyfriends to be boyfriends, and i want them to kiss open-mouthed and dry hump and then they kiss me and we're dry-humping...and we're all boyfriends and girlfriends.
"What are we up to tonight, then?"
You flinched as Strade sat down next to you, a beer bottle in hand, pulling his phone out of his trouser pocket and swiping through it the second that he was comfortable.
It had been a few months since your initial capture, and even if you were struggling to settle into the imposed routine that had been forced on you, one had been set up all the same.
Wake up. Try not to die. Go to sleep
You were surviving, the best you could, and you were alive...that's all that mattered.
"Ah, not in a talking mood, are we?" Strade asked, after a period of silence. "Well, that's not unusual from you, is it? I'm sure you're feeling a bit out of sorts." He took a swig from his beer and smacked his lips in an obnoxious way that got your skin prickling. "But, hey, that's okay! I'm here to chat whenever you're ready. And if not, I guess I'll just have to entertain myself, hm?"
"Mmhmm," You murmured a non-answer, bringing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on top of them as you kept your eyes on the television.
"I think they're just feeling a little..." Ren started, looking up from where he was sitting on the ground, his legs crossed, his tail curled up like a stuffie in his lap, looking much younger than you despite only being a few months your junior. "Um, we just watched the news, is all. Doesn't create the best of moods."
"And what's so interesting about the news?" Strade raised a brow with a wry tilt of his head.
"Mm," Ren bit his lip, looking a little guilty as he looked away. "Um...well..."
"I'm waiting to see my missing person report," You said curtly, cutting Ren off before he had the chance to explain what the two of you were doing.
"...Missing person report, huh?" Strade repeated, glancing curiously at you before he flashed you a devious smirk. "And I'm guessing...it hasn’t shown up, has it? That's why you're quiet?"
Both of you were quiet then, Ren continuing to pet through his tail and your eyes locked on the TV.
You didn't want to admit to him that you hadn't found a single report of your disappearance in the months of news watching and paper clippings.
Not even one.
The bloated (and deeply subtextual) silence caused Strade to chuckle, that mischievous grin only widening on his lips as he took another long swig from his beer bottle and put his phone away, letting out a content sigh afterwards as he wiped beer froth from his upper lip.
"Ah, well, I'm not surprised there hasn't been any word about it yet." He said, talking almost casually, like he was discussing the weather. "And yet, you've been here for a little while already, haven't you? And yet, nothing has come up...isn't that a shame~"
"T-They don't stop searching for a while," Ren said quickly, sitting up and doing his best to be reassuring, shooting you a sympathetic smile. You didn't doubt that he had been through something similar during his initial months of capture, so he was probably speaking from a degree of experience. "And maybe we're watching local news...it could be more widespread, you know."
"Mm..." You murmured, crossing your arms over your knees and giving Ren a slight, appreciative smile. "Maybe."
"Ah, Ren, ever the optimist, eh?"
Strade laughed again around the rim of his beer bottle, before he glanced back towards you again, flashing a doubtful, but (almost) sympathetic smile.
"Who knows? Maybe you're right, but," He clicked his tongue, his eyes going upwards thoughtfully "Knowing police, they might just wait a little while before giving up on the search altogether, especially if the person in question has been missing for a few months already. Pigs are..." He looked back towards you with another chuckle, a darker look in his eyes. "Lazy by nature, ja?"
"Mm..." Ren's ears tilted downwards, matching his defeated look as his gaze went back to his lap. He didn't have the energy to argue with his master, it seemed. "I mean...I'm sure it'll be okay..."
"Ah, I never said it wouldn't be." Strade replied with a wide shrug. "I'm just reminding the two of you, that if there really is no news coverage of your disappearance..." He laughed again, his eyes gleaming with sadistic excitement that was so characteristic of him when he was in this…teasing kind of mood. "Then that means I get to keep you here for just a little bit longer, doesn't it?"
You could tell that Ren was probably blushing as much as you were, even with your face pressed into your crossed arms and knees, doing your best to hide yourself.
You wouldn't give Strade the satisfaction of beating you down so quickly, though.
"S-Sure," You mumbled, crossing your arms a little tighter and hiding your face. "Whatever you say..."
"Tch, you're such a sourpuss," Strade rolled his eyes and finished off the last of his beer, setting the glass bottle down on the ground before he leaned closer to you on the sofa. "You can't expect that someone is going to come looking for you now, do you? It's been months and months...and, well," He paused for a moment, placing a hand on your bare shoulder. "Let's be honest, you probably weren't worth searching for anyway."
"Strade," Ren murmured from the side, his brows furrowed as he stared up at the two of you. "Come on..."
"What? I'm being honest, aren't I?" Strade asked with a chuckle, that little smirk still plastered on his lips as he looked over at Ren before turning his gaze back to you. "They're a little bit like you, in that way, Ren. No friends, no family..." His hand descended your arm as he spoke, his calloused thumb tracing over your healing scars, searching for a reaction from you. "And they certainly don't seem like they had a very interesting life anyway...so why would anyone care about them?
He paused, his eyes going back to Ren.
"About either of you. That’s kind of what you get for being such,” He laughed, shaking his head. “Ah, shut-ins, right?"
The two of you were quiet again, soaking in the truth of his statement but not rising to it, and when you glanced his way, you could see that Strade was looking thoughtful for a second.
Like he has expected some kind of reaction from you, and hadn't gotten what he wanted.
"Hm..." He hummed, taking his hand from your arm and letting it rest on your knee. "But...maybe I was being a bit too harsh, hm? Because I do care about you two...in a way."
A more casual smile came to his face as he rubbed your thigh, switching his gaze between the two of you.
"After all...you are my playthings~"
"Don't talk about me like that," You snapped back curtly, placing your legs flat on the sofa and your hands by your sides in protest. Your biting remark earned a warning look from Ren, narrowed eyes, his ears tilted forward in alarm and caution.
He had gone through this before, of course, and knew when to duck his head and play 'the good boy' for his master.
"Ah, such a strong sense of self, hm?" Strade asked with a barked chuckle, squeezing your thigh firmly and leaning in even closer to your body, his smile sick and toothy. "Too bad you don't have the strength or the freedom to act on that feisty attitude, isn't it, liebling?"
Despite being so close to you, Strade's eyes then went back to Ren sitting on the ground, shaking his head as he gave him an almost pitying and soft look...appealing to all of Ren's sweeter sensibilities.
"Unlike this one...my obedient little pet..."
Predictably, Ren's expression turned a little softer as he crawled closer to the sofa, searching and keening up for Strade's free hand as it pressed through his hair and pet the space behind his ears, the space he liked to be pet.
Always 'the good boy' when Strade was nice enough with him...patient enough.
He was easy like that.
Your expression screwed up in annoyance as you watched the two of them, as you watched Ren climb up on the sofa and nuzzle up to his captor with a wagging tail, feeling almost a sense of betrayal as a result of your fellow captive's softness. Like he was giving you expectations to live up to, if you wanted to earn Strade’s fleeting kindness.
"Ah, I think someone's getting a little jealous~" Strade teased, catching sight of your expression, his hand descending down the back of Ren's shorts as he pulled the younger man closer to his body. "Ah, but don't worry, fraulein...I have plenty of love for both of my precious toys, hm?"
"I'm not your toy," You murmured hotly, your face flushing as you averted your eyes, all while Ren started to rub against his captor, the sticky tip of his cock peering over the waistband of his shorts.
So fucking easy.
"Ah, is that so?" Strade asked with a little growl, as the hand in Ren's shorts slid to the front and he started to palm and grope at his cock, making Ren all the more desperate for him. "I think the lady protests too much..."
He then reached over and roughly grabbed your chin with his free hand, forcing your eyes together and your body closer to his and Ren's.
"Mm!" You grunted as he forced you forward, your eyes squeezing shut as you shoved a hand against his chest and tried to push yourself away.
He was stronger than you, though, always would be, and held you firmly in place.
"Then what exactly is it that you think you are, hm?" His voice lowered as he pulled your face closer to his, his lips almost (almost) tracing over your cheek. "Because I'm pretty damn sure I said it earlier...you and him, are both just little toys for me to play around with~"
"Mm..." You let out a low grunt, your eyes fluttering open when he kissed you (really kissed you!) on the cheek, as you gave him a defiant look.
It was all you could do.
You couldn’t fight him, or argue with him in any meaningful way. This was all you had, now.
Petty defiance.
That just caused Strade to laugh again, still keeping his grip on your chin as he looked deeply into your eyes, clearly unphased by your little show of defiance but...maybe a little impressed that it had persisted this far.
"Such a determined, little toy...even though you know damn well that you're powerless."
He then let out a little sigh, feeling as Ren pressed his body against his side and rubbed his cock against his hip, whimpering and moaning for his attention.
His grip on you lightened up a little, as he gave you a (handsome) smile, reminding you of the charming stranger who chatted to a lonely soul in a shady bar, and not the man who he really was.
"But, I'll admit...I find that defiant look in your eyes to be, ah," He chuckled again and gave Ren's cock a firm squeeze. "Kind of sexy. You little spitfire, you..."
"Fuck you," You said, though the bite behind the words was lacking its usual venom.
You didn't want to get punished, at least in any significant way.
Your recent cuts had barely started healing, after all.
"Ah, such rude language...such a bad, little toy."
Strade let out a condescending tut, shaking his head and suddenly giving your cheek a firm, hard *SLAP*, once, twice, three times, with the hand not holding your chin (making Ren immediately jump backwards against the sofa, his eyes wide and his ears up and alert).
"AH!" You yelped after each slap, your head jerking to the side, burning red from the harsh contact.
"Do I need to remind you about what happens when you misbehave like this?" He asked firmly, running a knuckle down your blazing cheek as he brought his lips close to your ear, his voice low, almost dangerous. "Because you're on the verge of getting punished now...and I know you really don’t want to be punished, do you, fraulein?"
"N...No..." You murmured, looking back towards him, tears threatening to streak down your cheeks and your expression thoroughly defeated. "I won't...misbehave. I’m sorry, I’ll be good."
"Good..." Strade purred with a smug look of satisfaction, seeming pleased with your docile response as he stroked your cheek a little more fondly. "Good girl. That's what I want to hear."
"Mm..." You hummed with subdued pleasure, willing yourself not to keen into the soft touch.
You wouldn't, you couldn't do that to yourself...could you?
Predictably, Ren slowly slinked back towards Strade once he was done with you, his small form pressing against his broad back as his tail wagged slowly, side to side.
It seemed, despite (or maybe because of) your abuse, Ren wanted his master's attention.
You were a little offended by his total lack of loyalty, but more than that, you felt your core start to throb at the realisation, watching Ren's sleepy desire melt away as he waited for that desire to be given from his master.
You couldn’t be sure that you wouldn’t get a little turned on yourself, if you watched Strade beat Ren into submission.
What was loyalty here, anyway?
Strade naturally took notice of Ren’s need for attention, pulling one hand away from your face to reach over to his, pushing thick fingers through his soft hair and idly scratching his scalp again, like he was stroking a beloved pet in his lap.
"Ah, let me guess," He murmured with a knowing smirk and a subtle click of his tongue. "You want me to pay attention to you now, don't you, fuchs?"
"Yes," Ren nodded, not even a little guilty, it seemed, as he pressed closer to him, his tail wagging even more at the offer. "Please, please pay attention to me."
"Such a needy little thing," Strade chuckled, his voice almost a coo as his gaze switched between the two of you, a dark, lustful look of realisation coming to his face as he thought of what to do next. "Here's an idea...how about you two play together for a while, hm?"
"Huh?" Ren blinked golden eyes at his captor, before looking towards you, his cheeks almost as red as yours, (in spite of not having the same abuse thrown towards him, this time around).
"You heard me, Ren," Strade asserted firmly, taking a firmer grip on your chin and pulling you inwards, towards their tangled bodies. "Play together."
You gave them both another defiant look, but, for whatever reason, didn't pull back as Strade pulled you in towards Ren and forced your faces together, initiating a (not wholly) non-consenting kiss.
"Mmph," You groaned, trying to turn your face away, but Strade's grip was stronger than your will to fight, and Ren's subservience kept his body tethered in space.
You had no way of winning.
Strade chuckled, seeming almost amused by your final display of defiance (and how much it was weakening) as he forced you closer to Ren and watched as your lips connected, a characteristically sadistic gleam in his eyes, as he let out a small sigh of contentment.
"Mmm...such a beautiful sight to witness..." He sighed, taking his hand from your chin and pressing it against the front of his khakis, groping the growing hardness of his erection.
"Ahhnn…" You groaned and gasped, as Ren pressed his hands to your chest (copping a feel of your breasts beneath your tank top) and ran his tongue over your lips, deepening the kiss and making it all the more intense.
You weren't sure if he was doing this for himself or his master. You weren’t sure if the distinction mattered that much anymore.
"Mmm! Such a bold move, Ren...little pervert that you are."
Strade laughed again with an indulgent look in his eye, watching the scene play out before his waiting eyes, as he groped at his cock. Before long, though, he raised a hand back up towards you, taking a firm fistful of Ren's hair and forcing him deeper into the kiss.
“Harder. Keep going.”
Ren let out a frightened, little yip as he was pushed harder against the kiss, with that force being enough to part both of your lips for just a moment, making the sloppy exchange of tongues and saliva and spittle all the more...erotically grotesque and obvious.
"Mmm...that's right...just like that..."
You were like his own personal porno, exaggerated kisses with too much saliva and wetness, groping hands, pantomimed moans and groans to make the pleasure appear all the more real.
You knew that this was fake.
That didn't stop your entire body from throbbing with want, though.
"Hmph..." You groaned softly as Ren hurriedly pulled up the front of your tank and started to touch your chest, hot skin and skin, the kisses only growing more erratic and exaggerated.
"Ah, so naughty..." Strade murmured approvingly, sitting up (his belt was unbuckled, and his khakis were unzipped and unbuttoned) and showing off the hard lines of his erection through his briefs. "You're making this old man feel pretty excited, you know that, fuchs...?"
His firm grip on the back of Ren's head tightened, making the younger man groan hungrily against your lips, as his other hand reached down and slipped back into the crotch of his shorts, pulling the waistband down around his swelling knot and framing his cock with elastic. The tip was bright red and sticky with oozing pre-cum, and your mouth subconsciously watered for it.
"Mm-ahhh..." Ren pulled back from the kiss with a needy little whine, drool and slobber pooling down his chin as you followed after him, leaving kitten licks against his jaw, his chin, and his neck. “Nnnh…”
Strade laughed warmly, seeming to enjoy the sight of both of you so close together, jerking his fist up and down Ren's cock and indulging himself in his needy whines, and the way his body trembled with want. You knew if Strade kept touching like this, Ren was going to cum in an instant, and you hoped (hoped, hoped) that he wouldn’t.
"Ahh, how adorable...you two look so lovely together." He let out a little huff of amusement through his nose. "Maybe it's time for me to step in too, hm?"
"Mm?" Ren glanced towards his master, his cheeks flushed as Strade leaned closer and took Ren's lips with his own.
You pulled yourself backwards and blinked as Strade and Ren began to kiss hungrily, your head growing hot and your eyes hazy at the display.
You might have been defiant, still, you might have played the role of 'the little spitfire' that Strade was so fond of, but there was...something about this that was getting you really, really hot.
Strade's head was tilted forward completely as he pressed his thick lips firmly against Ren's, his tongue forcing its way past Ren's pale, trembling lips and creating a hard kiss, an embrace that was as suffocating as it was pleasurable for the younger man. From the way that Strade was shifting, you had a sense that his arousal was growing as quickly as Ren’s had, as he deepened the kiss even more, wanting every inch of that mouth to be throughly claimed and owned.
Pulling back from the kiss slightly, he glanced over, peering at you through eyes hazy with desire, the sadistic glee in his eyes growing more intense as he took in your own hungry expression.
"Come here, liebling," He crooned, letting go of Ren's cock (much to the younger man's chagrin) and patting his knee authoritatively. "Come here...come to me."
Without a word of defiance, you crawled towards their bodies and keened into Strade’s suffocating warmth, pressing more kisses and kitten licks against his neck, his soft, scarred jaw, his stubbly cheek.
"That's it," He praised, his golden eyes flitting shut as he let out a low groan of pleasure, tilting his head back against the sofa’s cushions. "That's a good girl, my good girl..."
His free hand slid down the back of your shorts then, kneading and groping your soft ass and pulling you closer, tethering your body to his, before he leaned forward to press hard, open-mouthed kisses against your own gasping mouth...all while Ren keened in even closer too, so close that you can feel his lips trail against yours.
"Mmm...ahh,"
The room was filled with the sound of hot, wet kisses, wet lips and tongues trailing over hot skin and flesh, teeth biting, breath heaving. The heat of the three of you all pressed together, like a grotesque sandwich of desperate hunger, was growing more intense by the second, and it was making all three of you that much more erratic.
Strade pulled you into a lip-locked kiss, his tongue slipping its way into your mouth as you felt him press his hard against your thigh, while Ren licked needily at the wet crevice between your lips, his own cock bobbing uselessly against his belly, smearing pre-cum into his skin and pubic hair.
You did the same when Strade pulled back and kissed Ren with the same forceful hunger, rocking your cunt against his lap and leaving a damp smear of wet against his khakis, all while desperately trying to claim the kiss, as Ren had done to you.
Ren's hand slipped down the front of your shorts, probing and toying with the (frankly embarrassing) wet slick of your clit and your folds as the two of you began to kiss again, wet, hot, heaving breaths, moans and whines as you tried to push closer to him, reaching down to circle your fist around his cock, drinking in his moans as he pressed them into the kiss.
Strade's grip on both of you (his hand on your ass, the other in Ren's hair) grew tighter as he pressed both of his little playthings together, like a little kid playing too roughly with his toys, a predator fucking around with his prey.
His body was feeling especially hot beneath yours, though, responding well as you both kissed so hungrily and desperately, his own tongue exploring, claiming, owning, both of your gasping mouths each time you took a moment to peel back from each other and breathe.
He had thoroughly crushed the defiance out of both of you, and it was intoxicating.
Strade finally pulled away, breaking the kiss between the three of you, a sinister and sadistic grin plastered on his face as he gazed down at both of you, his excitement at its peak from the show he had just witnessed.
"Mmm...I can tell that you've both finally given in to me...you're mine now, toys...and I won't let either of you get away from me."
#strade btd#ren hana#ren btd#strade x ren#strade x mc#strade x reader#ren x mc#ren x reader#qs#fics#drabbles
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of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Chapter 26/34 - madeline
[Read on AO3]
Feeding the baby is slow going, but Mulder thinks they ought to cut her a little slack. It is her first day, after all. Eventually, she takes a longer pause and yawns, her tiny mouth opening wide and showing off her gums.
“That’s a big yawn for such a small person,” Mulder says, watching as Scully sets the bottle aside, lifting Madeline to her shoulder to pat her on the back. It isn’t long before she successfully expels a burp, drawing a chuckle out of Mulder. She’s so good with her already. He can’t wait to see his partner grow and change as a mother. Which reminds him: Mother’s Day is coming up. He’ll have to do something to celebrate.
“It really happened,” Scully says, marveling once more at their situation.
“It did,” he says, then thinks. “Should we tell your mom now?”
She laughs, nodding her head in agreement. Yeah, it’s probably safe to share the news now, isn’t it? “She’s gonna be beside herself.”
“She’s not gonna speak to us for months, for keeping this from her,” Mulder says, the joke an attempt to alleviate the tinge of genuine worry he has.
“I don’t know, I think we’ve got a pretty good Get-out-of-Jail-Free card here,” Scully says, looking down at the baby and bouncing her gently. “She won’t be able to stay away from her first granddaughter.”
Just then, Mulder gets a whiff of something not so pleasant, and he chuckles nervously. “Phew, are you sure? Cause this little stinker certainly knows how to clear a room.”
Scully gives him a thinly-veiled look of amusement, but he can tell she’s put off by the smell too, even with her strong forensic pathologist’s stomach. This will take some getting used to.
“Well, I got to be the one to give her her first bottle,” she says. “You want to do the first diaper change?”
“Somehow, I don’t feel like that’s a fair trade,” Mulder says, laughing. Even so, he doesn’t hesitate to lift the baby from Scully’s arms and carry her over to the changing table, which is outfitted with all the supplies they could possibly need.
Scully stands by on the opposite side of the table for moral support, watching him with a funny smile on her face. It takes a second for him to find his rhythm—a real live baby with flailing legs is a bit different than an inanimate baby doll, after all—but he vows that in no time, he’ll be a pro.
“There we go,” he says, tossing the dirty diaper into the trash can from a distance. “A 3-pointer! And the crowd goes wild!”
Scully rolls her eyes, lifting the baby back into her arms and burying her nose in Madeline’s hair.
“How’d I do?” Mulder asks.
Scully smiles up at him from beneath her thick lashes. “Fresh as a daisy,” she says. “I should probably try to get her to sleep. Are you going to call your mom?”
“Yeah,” Mulder says, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, I’ll call her later tonight. She usually plays bridge with some friends Tuesday afternoons. At least, I think she still does.” In truth, he hadn’t talked to her much since her release from the hospital, a fact that he really needs to remedy.
Scully nods.
“Well, could you get my mom on the phone and let her know to come? I’m going to get Maddie cleaned up a little before we have visitors.”
“I don’t know if that’s the best idea, Scully,” he says. “When I call her from the hospital, it’s usually not good news.”
Scully gives him an encouraging look before laying the baby in her bassinet for a quick sponge bath. “Well, this is the perfect chance to change that up, don’t you think?”
She’s right, of course. He owes Margaret Scully an awful lot. Let this be the first step toward earning the kindness she has so freely bestowed so many times over the years.
He fishes his cell phone out of his pocket, pressing the buttons for speed dial 4. It only rings twice before it connects.
“Hello?” her voice projects.
“Hey, Mrs. Scully.”
“Fox? Is there something wrong?”
He sighs. He can almost see the pinched Scully look of concern on the elder woman’s face. That’s what he gets for constantly being the bearer of bad news, he supposes. He glances at his partner and then back at the boring pastel colored painting of a flower on the wall.
“Nothing’s wrong, Mrs. Scully,” he assures her. “Actually, it’s kind of the opposite.”
“I don’t understand—”
“How quickly can you get to the hospital in Annapolis?” he asks. “Bearing in mind that no one’s hurt, there’s been no disaster. For once, it’s good news.”
“The hospital?” she questions, still sounding worried despite his reassurances. “I can leave now, so maybe 45 minutes? You’re sure everything’s alright?”
“Promise,” he says. “Dana would have called you herself, but she’s… busy.”
“If you say so,” Maggie says doubtfully.
Gee, he wonders where Scully got her skepticism from.
“Room 509 when you get here,” he says into the phone, checking his watch for the time. “See you soon?”
He can hear the rustle of a jacket and car keys on the other end of the line. “Yes– yes, I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”
-.-.-
“No, you must have misunderstood me,” Maggie says to the nurse leading the way through the hospital corridors, “I’m looking for Dana Scully in room 509. This is the maternity ward.”
“Yes, ma’am. Room 509.”
“But that can’t be right,” she says, her brows furrowing in confusion.
Maybe Dana is working a case that involves a pregnant woman that required her medical expertise. But why would Fox call her asking her to come?
“You can go on in,” the nurse says as they arrive outside the room.
Thoroughly confused and not knowing what to expect, she pushes open the door. On the far end of the room, Dana sits on a couch, her arm resting against a cart of some kind, while Fox stands, his back to the door, hunched over the same cart. He turns and a smile spreads across his face, and Dana quickly gets to her feet, looking equal parts excited and nervous.
“Mom!” she says.
“Dana? What’s going on?”
She’s not dressed in her doctor garb. She is, however, wearing her usual FBI clothing, though it looks a little rumpled. Her daughter is usually so prim and polished—to gain the respect of her male peers, she supposes—it’s unusual to see her looking anything less than professional on a work day.
“I wanted it to be a surprise,” she says, walking quickly toward her with only a cursory glance back at Fox. “There was always a chance it wouldn’t work out, but…”
She runs out of words to say, opting instead to grab her mother’s arm and start tugging her to the other side of the room. The beaming smiles on their faces are unlike any Maggie had seen in quite some time.
As they get closer, Maggie sees that the cart she saw earlier is in fact a hospital bassinet, and inside lays a baby, wide awake and blinking as she holds tight to Fox’s finger.
“What– how–?” she begins, stuttering, her hand coming up to clutch her metaphorical pearls. “Dana, is that–?”
“Mom, I’d like you to meet your granddaughter,” Dana says, her voice shaking with emotion. Maggie looks up at her, then back at the baby. Tears pool in Dana’s eyes, and she supports her mother as they step up to the bassinet so she can get a good look.
“Oh, she’s beautiful, Dana!” she says, feeling her own eyes begin to water. “But, how? I was with you just a few weeks ago. And, is Fox–?”
“Mulder and I– Well, it’s a long story,” she starts. “Last year, I decided to try in vitro fertilization, and Mulder agreed to… help.”
Maggie looks up at that, and she doesn’t miss the blush as it spreads across the man’s cheeks. He ducks his head, trying to focus only on the baby.
“It didn’t work, which is why I didn’t tell you,” Dana continues. “I didn’t want to… get your hopes up.”
“Oh, Dana,” Maggie says, looking sad. She wishes her daughter would confide in her more. She stores things up for so long, that when it all finally comes out, it’s hard to be of any help. She has so many questions, and she’s not sure Dana will give her all the answers.
“I thought that was my last chance to be a mother. But then, a few months ago, Mulder said that—”
It clearly makes her emotional to think of, now, whatever her daughter’s partner had offered to do.
“He said that if I wanted to try adoption, he’d do it with me.”
Adoption.
“I can’t believe it,” Maggie says, in awe of the tiny baby, and of the man who had made all of it possible. Fox Mulder had changed her daughter’s life forever, and she doesn’t think there’s any way she could possibly repay him.
“I can’t believe it either,” Dana laughs, and she sees Fox nod his agreement. This is a crazy thing that they have done. She'd thought that something was up with the two of them lately, of course, but never in a million years would she have guessed this.
“Would you like to hold her, Mrs. Scully?” the man asks, gently lifting the baby out of her bassinet.
Overwhelmed and caught off guard by the sight of Fox Mulder holding a child, Maggie can only nod as she accepts the tiny bundle into the cradle of her arms. Tears spring to her eyes.
“Oh…” she sighs, unable to keep the tears at bay. “This is such a… a wonderful surprise. What’s her name?”
“Madeline Samantha Mulder,” Dana says proudly, glancing up at her partner in some form of unspoken communication.
That grabs her interest.
“Mulder?” she asks curiously. “So you’re…” She gestures between the two of them with her free hand, and catches the glint of a ring on Fox’s left ring finger. Her eyebrows raise.
“We decided we’d raise the baby together. To make the application simpler, we got married,” Dana answers.
Married?!
“When?” she asks, equal parts thrilled and furious that she’d been left out of these plans.
“Christmas Eve.”
“Christmas…” she whispers, thinking back to that day. “That’s why you two had to go rushing off? You were getting married?” she says, aghast.
“Mom—”
“Your entire family was in town, Dana, even Charlie! Don’t you think we would have liked to be there for you on your special day?”
“It isn’t like that,” Dana says, her frustration rising. “It was just a formality. We went to the courthouse. We needed the papers so that we’d be seen as a couple looking to adopt on our applications. Otherwise, we might have been rejected. And you know they’re not the most accepting of single mothers—”
Wait, wait, wait. Back up.
“I don’t understand,” she says, “You’re married but not… together?”
Fox and Dana look at each other, and Maggie knows the answer before they say it. Her stomach sinks.
“No,” Dana says, a little hint of disappointment in her voice. “Not really.”
Glancing between the two of them, Maggie detects disappointment from both sides, not that either of them can probably tell. They’re so blind to what the other is feeling, that it would be funny if it didn’t make Maggie so sad. All the things they’re missing out on, just because they’re both too stubborn to admit the truth.
It’s probably only a matter of time anyway, she decides, no use harping on about it for now. If another month goes by with no sign of progress, she'll say something. That's as far as she'll go.
“You two are ridiculous, you know that?” she says curtly, pressing her lips together. “Frustrating.”
“Now you sound like my mother,” Fox jokes, in that self-deprecating tone of voice she wishes he’d stop using.
Maggie sighs, glancing back down at the gurgling baby in her arms. She sure is awfully cute.
“You’re lucky you gave me a granddaughter for all this nonsense I have to put up with,” she says, though not unkindly. She can say this at least about Fox and Dana: this baby will know a kind of love few people in this world get to experience.
They just have to pull themselves together first.
-.-.-
Maddie falls asleep on Mulder’s chest sometime after Mrs. Scully starts talking about breaking the news to Scully’s brothers, and to be honest, he’s glad for the distraction. It does, however, mean he’s kind of trapped there when Scully decides to go ask a nurse about bringing up some lunch for them from the cafeteria, leaving him alone with her mother and the baby.
They sit in silence for a while, neither really knowing what to say. At a certain point, though, Mulder can’t take the quiet anymore.
“You think Scully’s crazy, don’t you,” he says, more of a statement than a question.
“I’m not sure I know what to think,” Maggie answers. “About Dana.”
Mulder winces. He’d have to stop doing that. “Sorry, habit.”
“Ever since she met you, her life has been upside down and backwards from what I always thought it would be,” she continues.
“I know.”
“I don’t blame you, Fox.” Maggie’s hand settles atop his on the armrest of the couch, almost weightless. “She’s happy with you, otherwise she wouldn’t have stayed this long. I may not know much about my daughter these days, but I do know that.”
“I’m happier with her than I have ever been,” he admits. “And now—” he looks down at Madeline. “I didn’t know this much happiness existed.”
Maggie smiles, a little sadly. He’s used to people looking at him like that, the poor kid with the tragic backstory. He just wishes she wouldn’t.
The room falls silent again. A funny look comes over her face, and he gets the sense that she's holding something back.
“And, where will you live?” she asks, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye.
“We’re going to be looking for a house,” he answers, “but for now I’ve been sleeping in… Dana’s spare bedroom.”
Maggie purses her lips. “No nursery?”
“Not yet,” he says, shaking his head. “We figure she’ll sleep just fine in a bassinet for the first few months.”
“And that will be in Dana’s room?”
“I suppose so.”
“So, will you be helping when she wakes up needing to be fed or changed in the middle of the night?”
What is this, some high-stakes interview for a job? He really hadn’t been prepared for this.
“Of– of course I will,” he answers, perplexed by the fact that she even has to ask. Of course he’ll help take care of the baby, he and Scully are in this together, as they are with everything.
Maggie hums. You could almost hear a pin drop.
“Seems like it would just be easier if you were both in the same room to begin with,” she states, shrugging her shoulders like what she’d said was no big deal. She sips nonchalantly from a styrofoam cup of coffee and doesn’t look at him.
Now, Mulder doesn’t want her to get the wrong idea... “Mrs. Scully—” he starts.
“It’s Maggie, Fox,” she says kindly but firmly, interrupting him. “You’re my son-in-law now, I think you can call me by my first name.”
He sighs, and feels the baby let out a sigh against his chest. You and me both, kid.
“Maggie…” he corrects. “Look, Scully—Dana—is my best friend. And we’ve agreed to be parents and raise Madeline together, but we’re not—”
“Fox,” she interrupts again. “It’s very sweet that you’ve taken on this role as Madeline’s father, but what about Dana? Doesn’t she deserve a real marriage, with a husband who does more than care for her as the co-parent of their child? Don’t you deserve more?”
The very idea that Scully might not be enough for him offends him deeply, and he’s quick to tell her so. “I couldn’t possibly ask for more than your daughter,” he says. “She’s– she’s all I need. Her and Madeline. As for Dana…”
“She needs you, too.”
“No, but–”
“Don’t take what I’m saying the wrong way,” Maggie says seriously, leaning toward him. “Dana deserves a real husband, who loves and cares for her in all the ways a husband should.”
She levels a stare at Mulder, and he waits for the other shoe to drop.
“I’m not saying that shouldn’t be you.”
What?
It’s not like he hasn’t thought of this before—he has—but to be talking about it with her mother? Twenty years from now, if Madeline were to have a friend like Mulder, he’d tell her to run away as fast as she possibly could. But—that isn’t what Margaret is saying, is it?
In fact… it seems like she’s saying the exact opposite.
“You care for her, don’t you?” she asks.
“I do, but—”
“You love her?”
Mulder’s jaw hangs open, his automatic reply dying on his lips. His heart pounds in his chest, and he spares a quick thought toward Maddie and hopes it won’t disturb her somehow. He wants to answer her, but he doesn’t know how. His throat closes up almost completely as tears pool in his eyes, and he doesn’t trust his voice to come out right if he tried.
He glances down at Maddie, this precious little life he and Scully have vowed to take care of.
“It doesn’t matter if I do,” he says quietly. “She doesn’t… feel the same way.”
He can’t look at Margaret right now. He’s afraid of what he would see if he did.
“She deserves better than what I can give her,” he finishes, taking comfort in the warmth of his daughter burrowed into his chest.
Maggie is quiet for a moment. Then, she says, “It looks, to me, like you’ve given her quite a lot.”
True or not, there’s still the matter of everything else his presence in her life has done for her. To her.
“It doesn’t compare to how much has been taken...” he says.
“Which you are not responsible for.” Maggie’s stare is unrelenting, he has no choice but to take every word she speaks to heart. “Ask yourself who else in Dana’s life would have been able to make this possible for her. Who else would make such a life-changing decision, just to make her dream come true?”
“Any guy would have to be stupid not to,” Mulder states the obvious.
“You sell yourself too short, Fox,” Maggie says, shaking her head in either annoyance or disappointment. He doesn’t like either of those directed at him—not from Margaret Scully. “There’s no one she trusts more than you,” she says emphatically. “She wouldn’t have done this with anyone else by her side.”
Maggie sits back, apparently finished dressing him down. The baby squirms and then settles in her sleep, still exhausted from the eventful day she’s had. He can’t help but think about what Maggie had said—that Scully would only ever do this with him, no one else. He wants to push back, to say that isn’t true, but he knows in his heart that it is.
The question is: what does that mean for him? What does it mean for them?
Maggie gives a tiny smile, watching as he absentmindedly rubs tiny circles on Maddie’s back, lost in thought.
“Dana has told me some of the more unbelievable things you believe in, Fox…” she says quietly. “Aliens, ghosts, monsters… Given that, I would think it would be easier.”
“That what would be easier?” Mulder asks, the drone of his murmur matching the tone she had set.
Maggie smiles at him fondly, her knowing eyes meeting his.
“For you to believe she loves you.”
~~~
Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]
@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear
#msr#txf#x files#xf fanfic#mulder and scully#my fanfiction#fox mulder#dana scully#of our own making#ooom#msr adoption fic#adoption#maggie scully#me: *wakes up to post at 7 am on a saturday*#*goes straight back to sleep*
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Worst-Case Scenario – Joe Keery
"I'm telling you, Mr. Gary," I sighed, not bothering to look up from the chart in my hand, "you do not have Onchocerciasis."
"Are you sure, Doc?"
I sighed before forcing myself to look at him. "I'm sure, John. For starters, you're not blind. And you haven't been around blackflies of the genus Simulium and haven't been repeatedly bitten by them. So, no, John, you do not have Onchocerciasis."
"But I think it's. . ."
"You're a hypochondriac, Mr. Gary," I cut him off. "So my prescription? Stay off of WebMD."
After he left, I finally took my 30-minute lunch break. I went into one of the breakrooms the hospital had and sat on the couch. I leaned back and the second I caught my breath, my phone started ringing. When I grabbed it, a smile spread across my face.
"Hey, you."
"Hey, gorgeous," Joe's voice came through the phone. "How's my favorite doctor?"
"Tired," I said with a small laugh. "How's my favorite actor?"
"Tired and misses his wife."
"Well, his wife misses him too," I said as I lay down on the couch.
"You're off later tonight, right?" He asked.
"Yep," I sighed. "I only have two more hours."
"Great," he chuckled. "I have about three more hours."
"No," I whined.
"I know, I know," he sighed, "but I'll bring home dinner. What are you feeling?"
"Italian," I said instantly, making him laugh.
"If my wife wants Italian, I will get her Italian."
"I love you," I said softly.
"I love you too, baby," he said, sounding a little different. "I know we both have crazy jobs and we love them but. . . We never see each other anymore."
"I know," I whispered. I thought about it for a second before coming up with a plan. "When are you done filming your latest season?"
"We got about two more months," he sighed, not catching on.
"Well," I elongated, "I have some vacation days that need spending."
"Oh?" He chuckled, finally seeing where I was going.
"Mhmm," I hummed. "I can talk to my shift coordinator and get some time off once you finish filming."
"I like that idea," Joe said in a teasing tone. "How many vacation days do you have?"
"In total?" I had to think about it. "About two weeks, I think. Maybe more."
"Wow," Joe chuckled. I could hear the smirk.
"I really haven't taken that much time off," I sighed. "In fact, I was talking to my supervisor the other day and she practically begged me to take some time off."
"Well, even your health matters, Doctor," he teased. "Would it be crazy to suggest you take the whole two weeks off?"
"Absolutely not," I chuckled. "It sounds amazing."
"Perfect," he said gently. "We'll plan it all out over dinner tonight."
* * * * *
An hour into the second half of my shift, I got a patient I never wanted to have in the ER.
"Doctor Keery," one of the interns hesitated.
"Yes?"
"I have a patient that just came in," he stalled.
"Okay," I said, slowly looking at him. "And is it a tough case? What's up?"
"I think you're gonna want to take this one."
Before I could ask what he meant, he turned on his heel and walked away. Sighing, I put down the file I was holding and grabbed the one for the new case. I walked into the room without looking at the file.
"Joe?!" I dropped the file on the ground and ran to him. I stood in front of him and gently grabbed his face. As I scanned him, he had bruises, a busted lip, and what looked like ash.
"What happened to you?" I panicked. "Did something happen on set? Were you in a car accident? I'm trying to remember what scenes you shot today."
Joe reached up and grabbed my wrists, but didn't pull my hands away from his face. "Baby," he said gently, "I'm fine."
"But," I stuttered.
"I'm serious," he said, finally pulling my hands away from his face. "It was just a small stunt explosion."
"A what?!" I yelled. I grabbed his file off the ground and started scanning through it. Without a word, I instantly started attending to his wounds. He watched me the entire time.
"Y/N," he whispered once I had finished cleaning the ash off his face and neck. "Can we. . . We should probably. . ."
"I need to finish dressing your wounds," I said almost emotionless. We were quiet as I finished cleaning and bandaging up his wounds.
"Baby," Joe sighed.
"There," I said quickly. "You're done. I'll get you cleared to leave."
"Y/N. . ."
"I want you to go home," I cut him off. "I mean it, Joe. I don't care what your director says. Doctor beats director. So please, go home and get some rest. I'll bring home dinner and check to make sure your wounds are healing."
"But Y/N. . ."
"Doctor's orders," I said firmly. I closed his file and left the room. I handed it to the nurse and let out a shaky breath.
"You okay, Doctor?" The nurse I handed the file to asked sweetly. She looked at the file and her face dropped when she saw the name. "Oh," she said under her breath. "How is he?"
"He'll be fine," I said, forcing myself to push down my anxiety. "I need. . . Can you get his paperwork through the system so he can go home?"
"Of course, Doctor," she said with a small smile on her face. "Would you like me to tell you before he leaves?"
I hesitated. "No," I said under my breath. "It's okay. Thank you."
I went through the rest of my shift with my heart in my stomach. I wasn't sure when Joe went home. When my shift was finally over, I got takeout on the way home.
The second I walked into the house, Joe appeared in the hallway. "Hey, Doctor Gorgeous. How was the rest of your shift?"
"It was fine," I said as I walked past him and hung my keys on the wall. I kicked off my shoes before walking into the kitchen and putting the food on the table.
"Y/N. . ."
"Did you get any sleep?"
"A little," he said, the tone of his voice slightly weird. "Y/N, baby, we need to. . ."
"I brought home dinner," I cut him off. "You need to eat something."
With that, neither one of us said anything as we ate. Once we finished, I stood up and started cleaning off the table. After putting my plate in the sink, I walked back to grab Joe's plate. As I reached for it, he grabbed my wrist and stopped me.
"Y/N, I know you're mad," he sighed. "But we need to talk this through. I'm sorry I scared you today. I didn't mean to. We were running through a fight scene and we were off. It ended with. . ."
"You don't understand!" I cut him off as I tore my wrist out of his hold.
"You're right," he said oddly calm after I just exploded. "Please help me understand."
"You being a patient in my ER is my worst-case scenario."
"What do you mean, baby?" He asked as he stood up and grabbed my hand. He led me over to the couch and we sat down.
"I see a lot of horrible things," I said, my voice breaking. "I see people who come in and end up fighting for their life. I see those same people not survive the fight. And I am the one that has to tell their families they're gone."
"It was an accident," he whispered.
"It's always an accident," I said, the tears close to spilling. "It's the accidents that end suddenly and badly."
"Y/N. . ."
"I can't lose you, Joe." My voice broke as the tears finally started streaming down my face. "You're my world. You're my everything. You're my husband. Having you come into my ER and me not being able to save you is my biggest fear."
Joe sighed as he pulled me into his chest. I tried to stop the tears as he kissed the top of my head.
"I'm sorry, baby," he whispered. "I should've called you and given you a heads up. It would've been better than surprising you. But I really am fine, Y/N. We got a little too into our fight scene and ended up getting too close to an explosion that happens in the scene. We had the set medics check us out, but our director wanted us to get checked out at the hospital just in case. Next time, I promise to call you first."
"How about there is no next time?"
My question made Joe laugh. He tightened his arms around me and relaxed into the couch.
"I will try not to have a next time."
#joe keery#joe keery imagines#joe keery fanfic#joe keery x reader#stranger things#free guy#fargo#joe keery family#joe keery husband
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Psych incorrect quotes: a series (cont.👗❤️💭) (Warning: there will be Shassie)
—————
Lassiter: My guiltiest pleasure is watching fights.
Lassiter: What's your favorite kind of video?
Juliet: Elaborate prom proposals :)
Lassiter:
Lassiter: We lead very different lives.
———
Shawn: Realistically, do you think you and I could be like, lovers.
Lassiter:
Lassiter: There’s no way.
Shawn: I think if you worked on like-
Lassiter: Me worked?
Shawn: Yeah.
Lassiter: What am I working on?
Shawn: You have to work on some things-
Lassiter: What am I working on?
Shawn: Relationships are work, everyone’s gotta work a little bit.
Lassiter: Okay…
Shawn: If you just worked on… um, you know-
Lassiter: How about the positives, wanna list the positives first?
Lassiter: Or are you going straight to work?
Shawn: I’m gonna- I’ll list all the positives, if you want me to-
Lassiter: No!
Shawn: -but then we’re gonna be here for a couple hours.
Lassiter: Oh yeah, no, you’re trying to dig yourself out of your hole.
Shawn: I’m not trying to dig out of anything-
Lassiter: You’re sleeping on the floor tonight.
———
Gus: Shawn has a very strange patchwork of knowledge.
Gus: It’s anybody’s guess as to what he knows about any given topic.
Juliet: Really?
Gus: Watch this.
Gus: Hey Shawn!
Shawn: What’s up, buddy?
Gus: Who sculpted Mount Rushmore?
Shawn: Gutzon Borglum. Then his son finished it. Come on, Gus. Give me something harder-
Gus: And which state is Mount Rushmore in?
Shawn:
Shawn: uhhhh…
Shawn: Ecuador?
#psych#carlton lassiter#juliet o'hara#juliet o’hara#juliet ohara#shawn spencer#burton guster#psych 2006#psych usa#psychusa#psych tv#psych tv show#psych show#incorrect quotes#psych incorrect quotes#incorrect quotes psych#incorrect psych quotes#toast tries to talk
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“Chapter Four”
Word Count: 6.9k
(Chapter four to “Cherry Bomb” - please make sure to read the TW on the “Cherry Bomb” masterlist before proceeding.)
●・○・●・○・●
Giving myself one more small spray of hair spray, I run my fingers through my hair, and tease it a little bit before sucking in a deep breath. Tonight, I was going on a date. It would be my first date since moving back home, and I don’t remember the last time I was nervous for anything other than a gig. I spritz myself with a bit of perfume as I check my phone on my vanity, and I see my Uber is only a few minutes away.
Hudson, my date, had offered to come and pick me up when we were texting earlier today, but I declined. I’m someone who definitely doesn’t feel comfortable with someone knowing where I live on the first date, so I either drive myself, or Uber - if I know that drinking is going to be involved.
I grab my purse from my nightstand and head towards my door, locking up my house before heading into the driveway to get into my car.
Hudson and I met late last week when I was in the local music store when I realized that the original microphone I had in my home studio wasn’t going to cut it. The sound wasn’t clear at all, and I knew that I needed something that was going to record way better than what I had. As I was looking over my different options, I could see that Hudson was also looking at some - two different microphones in his hands.
“I should probably know all this shit given I’ve been in studios so much, but I don’t,” I laughed softly as I looked over at him. “Do you have any suggestions as to what works best in a home studio?”
I figured he would have some insight since he really seemed to be contemplating the two mics he had in his hands. Once he looked over at me, that’s when I noticed just how attractive he was, and then he sent me a charming smile as he moved a bit closer to me.
He walked me through which microphone he thought would suit best for what I needed and why. After I made my decision, we ended up talking a little bit more, and he was interested in what I was doing music wise. He didn’t know who I was, which is something that never bothers me, but it was kind of nice to talk about my newest album without anyone having any idea about what my previous stuff has sounded like.
After that we ended up exchanging numbers since we felt we clicked pretty well, and we’ve been texting everyday ever since. It wasn’t until yesterday that he asked me about grabbing drinks together tonight at a bar he frequents, and I agreed. He seemed really genuine, and nothing thus far had given me any red flags. I had told Kailey at the club a couple of weeks ago that I wasn’t interested in hooking up. I wanted to try and find a relationship, and I made those expectations clear to Hudson a couple days into us texting.
He was on the same page as me which ended up being a big relief.
Speaking of the club a couple of weeks ago, I haven’t seen Harry or Rylan since. I also haven’t heard from Harry at all. No random phone calls, or angry text messages. It was refreshing, and I honestly found myself forgetting that we were even residing in the same area again most of the time.
I hope that Rylan leaves it be from now on, and she doesn’t try to force us to hang out anymore. I don’t want anything to do with Harry. He clearly doesn’t want anything to do with me. It’s best if we just leave things like they were - him ignoring that I existed in his life at one point, and me just having to shove all my memories of him to the back of my mind.
My Uber pulls up to the bar, and I thank the driver before collecting myself and getting out of the car. I walk in, and I see that it’s a bit of a dive bar, but that doesn’t bother me. Local dive bars are sometimes the best places you can find.
I look around, and I finally spot Hudson at a two top table towards the back of the main area of the bar. Once I reach him, I can understand why he chose this table. It’s a bit more quiet back here, and we won’t have to yell to hear each other over the music or the other patrons.
“Hi,” I smile as I approach him, and he quickly stands up - wrapping his arms around me in a hug.
“Hey,” he runs his hand over my back before we separate, and he pulls my stool back a bit from the table so I can properly sit down. “I haven’t ordered yet. Was waiting to see what you’d like.”
“Oh, thank you,” I say while sitting down, running my hands over my denim thighs. “I’ll just take a Coors Light, please.”
“Okay, sure. Do you want a shot as well?”
“Yeah, that sounds good,” I nod. “Anything is fine. I’m not picky.”
Hudson reaches forward to give my hip a soft squeeze before he starts off towards the bar, and I let out a deep breath as the sensation it causes in my stomach. Seeing him again, I’m reminded of just how insanely attractive he is. I keep my eyes on him for a moment before I turn to sit properly at the table. I get my phone out quickly to let Kailey know that I’ve arrived safely.
She made me share my location with her earlier tonight just to be safe, and honestly, I’m glad she did that. It was something that I hadn’t even thought of, but now we both have each other's locations, just in case.
I pull up my email on my phone as I wait, and answer an email from Lys regarding the status of my first recording to submit to the label. I respond back to let her know that I was having an equipment issue, my mic specifically, but that I would be able to start recording as soon as possible.
I’m quick to lock my phone back up as Hudson comes back over, and I smile up at him. “Thank you so much.”
I see he has a beer for each of us, passing me mine before setting a shot before the both of us as well. “I got gold tequila, I hope that’s okay.”
“Totally fine,” I nod. “Like I said, I’m not picky.”
We each lift our shot glasses and tap them against each other before Hudson speaks. “To our first date.”
“To our first date,” I repeat with a nod before we down the shots - setting the glasses back down on the table afterwards.
After a moment we start to engage in a true conversation, and it so happens to be one about music.
“So, you’re working on your new album, right?” Hudson asks, to which I nod. “Who would you say are your heaviest influences so far?”
I hum softly as I take a sip of my beer - contemplating my answer. “A mix between older artists and modern artists. I really enjoy Joan Jett, Blondie, Heart, Annie Lennox, Fleetwood Mac and Billy Idol from the past. If we’re talking more modern, Lizzy McAlpine is great, No Doubt, and I also like Ethel Cain. Although, Ethel writes a bit darker than me.”
Hudson nods in response. “I’ve heard of Blondie, Fleetwood Mac and Joan Jett, but I don’t think I’ve heard of any of the others. Maybe if I heard a song or two by them then I’d know.”
Narrowing my eyebrows slightly, I’m a bit shocked that he hasn’t heard of at least Billy Idol or No Doubt the most, but I let it slide. It’s always something I can introduce him to later on.
“Who do you like to listen to?” I ask curiously, raising my eyebrows softly.
“To be honest, I listen to a lot of music, but most of the time I don’t know who I’m listening to,” he shrugs. “I’ll usually just turn on some type of mix playlist that’s already curated for me, and just play that in the background while I’m working or doing chores around the house.”
I purse my lips to the side, not really understanding his take on music, but I leave it be. Maybe we don’t have as much in common as far as music goes - at least not in the way that I was expecting.
“That’s a good way to find new music, I guess,” I smile as I tap my fingertips on the top of the table nervously. I search my brain a bit to figure out what to change the subject to. “I don’t think I’ve asked, but have you always lived in LA?”
Hudson shakes his head, setting his beer back down on the table. “No, I’m originally from Wyoming. I moved here a couple of years ago to pursue art full time. Both making it, and dealing it.”
“Oh, I didn’t realize you made your own as well! What’s your go to medium?”
“I like charcoal mostly, but it’s pretty messy,” he chuckles. “I can show you a couple of pieces, if you’d like.”
“Yes, please,” I say, leaning over the table a little bit as he pulls his phone out and begins to scroll through his camera roll.
“This is my most recent,” he states, turning his phone to face me better, and I swallow harshly.
The art in front of me…is not good.
I can tell where his vision is, but it’s definitely not executed in the right way. I know art is subjective, however, I can’t make heads or tails of why he’d choose this way to interpret his vision.
“Oh,” I lick over my bottom lip. “It’s very unique. I don’t think I've ever seen art quite like this.”
Not exactly a lie.
“Thanks, Marlowe,” he smiles, showing me a couple of other pieces before tucking his phone away. “I know you talked about getting art for your home recently, so if you ever want me to make you something, just let me know.
Yeah, that’s not happening.
“Sure! I don’t have too much space on my walls anymore, but if I end up rearranging some stuff, I’ll let you know.”
●・○・●・○・●
Hudson and I have been at the bar for a couple of hours, and honestly, this date wasn’t going at all like I expected. He’s nice enough, that’s for sure, but I’m definitely not feeling a spark like I was hoping based off of our text conversations. At first I thought maybe it was nerves between the two of us, but I feel like if that was the case, they would have faded by now.
“I’m going to go and grab another beer. Do you want one?” I ask as I push myself off my stool.
“Yeah, sure. I’m just going to pop into the restroom real quick.”
I nod at him before heading towards the bar, ordering us another round of beers - putting them on Hudson’s tab as he’s instructed me to do all night. Carefully carrying them back to the table, I sit back down on my stool, my back to the main bar as I push his beer over to his side.
Hudson returns only a few moments later, and we start up another round of small talk which only seems to be dwindling more and more with each conversation we try to engage in.
Soon I hear a loud commotion behind me, the sound of glasses clashing and a stool scraping the ground, and I look over my shoulder to see Harry towering over a shorter guy by the bar.
“Fuck,” I whisper, feeling conflicted on what to do at the moment.
I watch as Harry pulls his long hair back into a bun, and he walks forward so his chest is pressed against the man’s. The last thing I want is for Harry to get in some sort of legal trouble that could come back to bite him for however many years.
“This guy again,” I hear Hudson mumble, and I look over to him with narrowed brows. “The one with the long hair - he’s always fighting. He’s close with one of the main bartenders, and that’s the only reason why they let him back in. He’s also drunk off of his ass most of the time, so I think they pity him. Can’t hardly pay his tab half of the time unless his little blonde girlfriend is with him.”
An unfamiliar feeling lingers in my stomach as I listen to Hudson’s words, and I’m already looking back to Harry.
“I’ll be right back,” I say, quickly getting up, and I feel Hudson’s hand on my arm.
“You’re not going over there, are you?”
“I…I know him,” I tell him, holding his eyes for a moment before I pull away and start making my way over to the bar.
Before I can get there, I see the guy pop Harry in the mouth with his fist two quick times, and I pick up my speed - pushing through the crowd that managed to gather around them. Harry lands another fist to his brow, and I can see now that his mouth is bloody, and his brow is split.
“Harry!” I call out once I make my way past the people, and he looks over to me - his expression showing one of surprise at my presence.
I knew it was highly foolish of me, but I just want this to stop, so I shove my way between the two men so I can press my hands against Harry’s chest. Walking forward, I attempt to push him away from the other guy. “Come on, don’t do this.”
Harry continues to stare at me, his gaze hardened, but I can see something else brewing behind his eyes.
I open my mouth to speak again, but I’m quickly yanked away from him by my shoulders - being flung into a nearby table. Gasping, I grip to the surface to stabilize myself, and I realize it was the guy fighting Harry that shoved me away. When I look back at Harry, I see nothing but anger all over his face.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Harry’s voice bellows before he lifts his fist - gripping to the front of the guy’s shirt as he clashes his knuckles against any part of his face that he can connect with.
“Harry!” I yell out, shaking my head. “Harry, stop!”
Soon two security guards come over, and they separate the two of them before shoving Harry towards the front door, and the other guy towards the back door.
“Both of you get the hell out!”
Afraid of what Harry could do being alone like this, I make my way back to my table to let Hudson know that I need to leave, but I see he’s already left - the receipt for the tab on the table to show that it’s paid. I flip it over and I see that he’s scribbled on there that he had a nice time tonight, but needed to head out.
Rolling my eyes, I know that means we won’t be seeing each other again, and that’s honestly fine with me. I grab my purse before heading towards the front and exiting. I look both ways on the street before I see Harry leaning up against the brick building with a cigarette dangling from his fingers on his bloodied hand, and I slowly walk forward to him.
He looks up from his feet, and I wince when I really take in the damage the guy had done to his face.
Harry pushes himself off the wall to close the gap between us - eyes scanning over me as if he’s checking me for injuries too.
“Are you okay?” He asks, and I think it may be the softest I’ve heard his voice be since being back.
“I’m fine, I’m not worried about me,” I shake my head, going to lift my hand to inspect his face further, but I drop it back down. “You should really get your face cleaned as soon as possible. That gash on your eyebrow looks bad.”
Harry rolls his eyes as he takes another drag of his cigarette, swaying a bit. “You shouldn’t have fucking gotten in between us like that, Marlowe. That was stupid.”
“Well, excuse me for trying to look out for you,” I snap, crossing my arms over my chest as I shake my head. “I might not like you, but I don’t want to see you get in trouble.”
“Don’t act like you actually fucking care,” he scoffs, flicking the ash from the burning stick. “Just another one of your self-righteous acts.”
I stare blankly at Harry as he looks around the street a bit before focusing back on me.
“Fuck you, Harry,” I whisper before turning around, walking away as I pull my phone out of my purse to order myself an Uber home.
As I stand there, I go to move my arm to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear to get it out of my face, and I wince at the dull pain that throbs in my upper part of it. When I ran into the table, I guess my biggest point of impact was my bicep without me realizing.
I punch my address in, and Uber connects me with a driver as I patiently start to wait.
“Are…are you sure you’re okay?” Harry’s voice makes me jump, and I look over to see him in closer proximity than before. “You looked in pain for a second there.”
“I’m fine,” I look out to the road in front of us. “My arm is just a little sore.”
We stand in silence as cars pass by us, and I can see Harry drop his cigarette onto the sidewalk after a minute or so - snuffing it out with the toe of his boot.
“How are you getting home?” I ask, and when I look back to him, I see his eyes look even more glazed over.
My guess is that he must have ripped a few shots before getting into that fight, and the alcohol is catching up to him even more now that his adrenaline is wearing off. He takes another step towards me, and he sways again, but this time harder, and I’m quick to catch his falling body.
“Shit,” I hiss as I tuck my arm without any pain underneath one of his to keep him up straight - pulling him into my side. “Do you need me to add a stop for you to my Uber? Do you need me to get you home?”
Harry’s eyes run over my face drunkenly, and he lazily licks his lips. “I’ll be fine.”
I shake my head in response. “No, you won’t. You can’t even stand up straight, Harry. Tell me your address, and I’ll add it to my ride.”
Before Harry can say anything else, my phone vibrates to indicate my Uber is here, and I look over to see the car my app had paired me with.
“God, I’m going to regret this,” I whisper to myself as I shuffle us both into the backseat - greeting the driver.
I’m thankful it’s a bit dark in here, so I’m sure he can’t see the damage done to Harry’s face, or just how fucked up he is. I’m also praying that Harry doesn’t end up getting sick on the drive home.
Bringing him back to my house seems like the only option at this point considering he won’t tell me where he lives, and I know I couldn’t leave him alone outside of that bar. He’s so drunk that I don’t think he’d even find his own way home, and as angry as he makes me, he doesn’t deserve that. Who knows what could happen if he ends up passed out on the street somewhere.
As we’re driving down the road, Harry’s body moves slightly with each turn, and I scoot over in my seat a bit to press my body against his to keep him upright. He looks down to me, and I see his throat expand as he swallows before slowly lifting up his hand.
“You sure it’s okay?” He slurs, ghosting his fingertips over my upper arm before dropping his hand back into his lap.
“I’m fine, promise,” I assure him, feeling the emotional whiplash that he always seems to provide - having it smack into me at full force.
It doesn’t take long for the Uber to get us to my house, and I once again thank the driver before getting out, and then carefully pulling Harry out as well. I keep an arm securely around him while fishing through my purse for my keys as we walk onto my porch. Once I find them, I unlock the door, and I lead the two of us inside - blindly throwing my hand out to the side to reach the switch to turn on the lights.
“Here, lean against the wall for a second,” I instruct him as I shut the door and lock it up before I hang my purse on the hook - tossing my keys onto the small table in my entryway.
Once I turn back to Harry, I see him looking around, and I shrug off my jacket. I drape it onto one of the arms of the coat rack in the corner before I pull him into my side again.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”
Harry grumbles, and I know he wants to fight me on this, but I don’t think he has the energy, or the proper thought process, to do so right now.
I get him into my guest bathroom - coaxing him to sit down on the closed toilet seat before I dig underneath my sink for my first aid kit. Once I find it, I place it on the counter and open it up, immediately going to the alcohol wipes in there so I could clean his cuts up. I made a mental note to remember to grab rubbing alcohol next time I was at the store - just to have under the sink at all times.
Moving to stand in front of Harry, I tuck one of my hands underneath his chin to cradle it in my palm so I can properly look at him in the light. I lift the wipe up to his brow, and I speak before I have it make contact with his skin.
“This is going to burn a little,” I mumble before starting to rub it against the wound.
Harry just lets out a small grunt, his body tensing for a moment before he relaxes. I can feel his eyes wandering all over my face as I tend to the gash thoroughly, and once I get it cleaned up, I’m grateful to see that it’s definitely not deep enough to need stitches.
“Why were you even trying to fight that guy anyway?” I ask as I head back over to the kit for another alcohol wipe so I can clean the blood that had gathered in the corners of his mouth.
“He’s an asshole,” Harry reaches up to pull his hair out of the bun - letting his long curls fall against his shoulders.
“Oh, like you?”
The words escape me before I can filter myself, and I stare down at the kit for a bit longer until I look back over to Harry. His eyes hold mine, but he doesn’t say anything as I walk back over to begin wiping at his mouth.
I clear my throat after a moment - wanting to just get back to taking care of him. “I have some mouthwash under the sink. It’s usually for canker sores, but I think it might help with where your teeth have cut into your lips. You should really rinse with it.”
Harry just hums in response, and I pull away once again to get a good look at him. “You’re all set.”
As I go to put the first aid kit away, I pull out the mouthwash and place it on top of the counter. Harry stands and lazily grabs the bottle, swaying a bit as he looks down at it.
“Go ahead and rinse. I’m going to get the guest room situated for you,” I tell him before exiting the bathroom and heading down the hall.
I go ahead and pull the covers back on the bed so that’s one less thing he’ll have to do, and I dig through the nightstand drawer for an extra phone charger in case he needs it. Kailey had left one here as a spare the couple times she’s stayed over.
As I go to exit the room to grab him some water and some Tylenol, I collide with Harry in the doorway. “Make yourself comfortable, okay? I’ll be right back.”
I move around him and make my way into the kitchen where I quickly fill a glass with ice water, and I grab two Tylenol from the cabinet above the sink. Once I get back into the bedroom, I see that Harry’s jeans and jacket are draped over the chair in the corner, and I swallow harshly when I realize he’s laying underneath the covers in just his boxers and shirt.
“Here,” I place the glass down with the pills next to it, and I see his phone is sitting there, but the screen doesn’t light up when my hand moves over it. “I think your phone might be dead. I got a charger for you. Do you want me to plug it in?”
Harry shakes his head, sitting up to take the water and the pills. He gulps the Tylenol down quickly, and drinks about half the glass of water before setting it back down. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it.”
“What about Rylan? She’s not going to get worried if you don’t answer?”
“Sometimes I let my phone die so I can be alone, and I don’t have her pestering me,” he slurs before laying back down, pulling the covers up to his chin.
I frown at his answer, but I don’t argue with him. “Alright, well…I’m just down the hall if you need anything. I’ll take you home in the morning, okay?”
Harry’s eyes shut, and that’s when I know I’m not going to get any more responses from him tonight. I turn on my heel and head back into the hallway that leads into my room. Once I’m inside, I shut the door behind me, and I strip myself of my clothes, and then wipe my makeup off while sitting at my vanity. After changing into some PJs, I collapse into my bed.
Staring at the ceiling, I wonder if Harry’s going to be angry when he wakes up tomorrow and realizes where he is. Is he going to mouth off at me? Is he going to try to say I pity him, or that I’m being self-righteous again by bringing him here?
I suck in a deep breath as I tell myself I can’t worry about that right now. That’s a problem for the morning - not tonight.
Turning onto my side, I plug my phone in and turn on my lamp before cuddling underneath my covers, and falling into a deep sleep.
●・○・●・○・●
Stirring in my bed, I blink my eyes open to see the sun just barely peeking through my curtains. I glance over to my nightstand to see that it’s a little past ten, and I groan. It’s been a while since I’ve slept in this late, but I’m sure the events of last night had me feeling a bit more exhausted.
I jolt up in bed when the memories hit me, and I stare blankly at my wall.
Harry is here. He’s in my house.
I take a minute to gather myself before I slip out of bed, and I rummage through my dresser to pull a hoodie on over my tank top that I wore to sleep. Grabbing my phone, I head out of my room, and I quietly head down the hall towards the guest room. I crack the door open, trying to be as quiet as possible, and I see Harry sprawled out in the middle of the bed.
Silently making my way into the room, I grab the glass I had given him last night, and I’m happy to see that it’s empty. I know it’s not a lot in comparison to what he drank alcohol-wise, but at least I know he had a full glass of water in his system. I head downstairs to quickly refill the glass, and grab two more Tylenol, before heading back upstairs.
I sit the items down on the nightstand, and I bite down on my bottom lip as I brush some of the hair out of his face to get a better look at his injuries from last night. He has a decent bruise surrounding the gash above his eyebrow, but thankfully his mouth seems to look okay.
Not wanting to linger too long and risk the chance of him waking up to me staring, I exit the room and head back down to the kitchen to begin making us some breakfast.
I rack my brain a bit as I try to remember exactly what he likes for breakfast food, and I’m almost certain that he always liked my mom’s homemade pancakes. Rummaging through my pantry and cabinets, I realize I have everything I need to make them, including syrup, so I get to work - starting to mix everything into one of my large mixing bowls.
I begin to play some music quietly on my phone as the first pancakes begin to cook in the pan, and I walk over to press the start button on my coffee maker.
While making my way through the pancakes, I purse my lips to the side as I realize it’s been so long since I’ve cooked for someone other than myself. I’m not the biggest fan of leftovers, so I’m usually sticking straight to a recipe that will only produce one serving - that way I’m not wasting any food.
“This has to be some type of joke,” I jump at the sound of a low voice rumbling in my kitchen, and I look over my shoulder to see Harry standing by the island in the middle of the room.
“Fuck, Harry,” I gasp out, clutching the spatula in my hand against my chest. “You scared the shit out of me.”
My eyes scan over him for a second, and I watch as he puts the glass that I left on the nightstand for him down on the counter. I’m happy to see that it’s empty again. “So, out of all the women in LA that I could’ve gone home with, how the hell did I end up here with you?”
I roll my eyes at his comment, shaking my head as I turn my attention back to the pancake in front of me - flipping it.
“That’s a crappy way to talk to someone who kept you from sleeping on the street last night,” I say, not speaking too loud though. “Also, did you forget you have a girlfriend?”
“I wouldn’t have slept on the street,” Harry almost laughs as he says it, and for some reason that has me growing irritated.
“Oh, really?” I ask, throwing a laugh right back at him. “You could hardly hold yourself up, and I asked you several times what your address was, and you couldn’t even answer me. I think it’s fair to say you wouldn’t have been getting yourself home.”
It goes silent between the two of us as I take the finished pancake out of the pan, stacking it on the plate with the others. “I have one more pancake to make, and then we can eat.”
“You made me breakfast?”
I look back to Harry to see an expression I don’t recognize from him covering his face, and I nod. “I just figured you’d be hungry. I was going to take you home after, but if you don’t want anything, then I can take you home now.”
Harry continues to just stare at me for a moment before he shakes his head. “Breakfast is fine.”
“Okay,” I respond, and then I grab the mixing bowl - pouring the batter for the last pancake into the pan. “The coffee in the pot over there just finished if you wanted some. And if you want something else other than that or water, I have juices, and a few sodas, in the fridge.”
From the corner of my eye, I can see that he steps towards the coffee pot, and he pauses - beginning to look around.
“Mugs are in the cabinet right in front of you,” I instruct him, placing the empty batter bowl into the sink.
Harry opens the cabinet, and he pulls a mug out before pausing. “Do…do you want a cup?”
I raise an eyebrow at his back, not having expected him to offer, but I don’t comment negatively on that - no matter how close the words are to the tip of my tongue.
“Yes, please. I like mine with some sugar, and a bit of oat milk.”
Walking back over to the pan, I flip the last pancake, and I smile when I see this one is just as perfectly golden brown as the others. I let Harry do his thing as he moves around my kitchen, not watching like a hawk like I want to, and I pull the pancake from the pan.
I set the plate with the stack in the middle of my dining table before returning to the kitchen to grab both butter and syrup. Once I’m back, Harry is already sitting down while leaning over to place my mug at the head of the table, and he’s sitting in the seat beside me.
“You didn’t have to do all of this,” he mumbles once I sit as well, and I just shrug in response.
“I know I didn’t, and honestly, you don’t really deserve it, but I wanted to.”
Harry catches my eyes for just a moment before staring down at the empty plate I had already set down on the table before I started cooking. I don’t comment any further as I lift my plate and grab my fork - stabbing two pancakes and dragging them over.
For a second I think Harry isn’t going to indulge, but then he also reaches out to take two pancakes. While I smother the tops of both of mine with butter, I can see Harry is doing the same. We go to reach for the syrup at the same time - fingertips brushing against each other. Harry clears his throat before dropping his hand.
“You go first.”
Nodding, I take the bottle, and pour just the right amount that I like over my creation before passing it over to him.
We eat in silence for the most part, but I can’t help but speak up after a while.
“Last night you said you were only trying to fight that guy because he was an asshole,” I state while cutting off a new bite of pancake. “What’s the real reason?”
Harry pauses in the middle of bringing his fork to his lips, but once I look over to him, he sets the silverware back down against his plate. “He uh…he said some shit about my mum. His dad used to date her or something.”
I can’t help but wonder if what the man said about Harry’s mom was justified because truly, she’s not a good woman. The older I’ve gotten, the more I find it hard to wrap my head around how a woman allowed herself to get so drunk around her teenage son for years. I know she has a problem with alcohol, but I’ll never understand how she prioritized that over her own child. Unfortunately, by the sounds of it, she still continues to.
"I'm sorry, Harry," I extend my condolences as Harry pops his bite of pancake into his mouth, but I don't really mean it - at least in the way that I’m not sorry someone spoke ill about his mom. I am sad it led him to want to fight someone though. "How's your face and your mouth feeling?"
“Face hurts,” he winces a bit as he grazes his fingers over the darkened bruise and gash. “But my mouth feels fine. I don’t think my teeth dug in too deep, and I’m sure that the rinse you had me use helped a lot.”
“I thought you didn’t remember where you were this morning,” I smirk softly, realizing that I caught him in a lie. He does have memories of last night.
Harry’s eyes wander over my face, and he opens his mouth to speak before I hear a chime coming from my phone over on the kitchen counter.
I stand and make my way over to it, and I panic when I see I clearly have a meeting at noon for a local gig Lys had found for me. An open-mic type event.
“Oh, shit,” I shake my head when I see that it’s already a little past eleven.
Racing back over to the table, I pick up half of one of the pancakes I had left, leaving the other on my plate as I shove it into my mouth. I grab my coffee mug, and I begin to quickly head down the hall.
“I’m sorry, I completely forgot I have a meeting today at noon!”
Entering my room, I crack my door, and I pull off my pajamas and hoodie, heading into my closet to find something easy to wear. I settle on a black dress that has a corset-like top, and I pull it over my head - thankful that it supports enough for me to not have to wear a bra. Sitting down on the side of my bed, I roll my fishnets on, and slide black ankle socks onto my feet before shoving them inside my usual pair of Dr. Martens.
From there, I pull my door back open in case Harry needs to say anything before sitting down at my vanity to do some quick make-up. I guzzle down another few sips of coffee after applying concealer where needed, and I lean closer to my mirror as I start on my eyeliner.
I see that Harry has moved from the table to stand in the door out of my peripheral, and I lick over my bottom lip.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to just dart up from the table like that. I just hate being late for stuff,” I explain as I start the eyeliner on my other eye.
“It’s fine.”
From there, I can see he’s crossed his arms over his chest, and he’s now leaning against my doorway - watching me intently. I don’t comment on it. I just let him watch.
After coating my lashes in mascara, I stand up and drink down the rest of my coffee before heading into my en-suite. I brush my teeth as fast as I can, while still being thorough, and I walk back out to see Harry dragging his fingertips over the neck of my acoustic guitar in the corner.
I come to a complete stop as I see him tilt his head to the side, and I watch him take in a deep breath as presses down a bit harder while running his fingers down the strings. It makes that small little scratching noise as he does - causing him to straighten up a little bit with his mouth pursed.
Once he abruptly turns his attention to some of the artwork on my wall instead of my instrument, I make my presence know again as I re-enter the room.
“I’m sorry, I promise I’ll take you back to yours as soon as I get back, but I don’t have time right now,” I head towards my front door, and I can hear Harry following behind. “Please make yourself at home while I’m gone, and if you need anything, just text me okay?”
I sling my purse over my shoulder, and grab my keys from the table near the door.
“Okay. You just…you’re fine with me just staying here?”
I shrug as I open up the door, and I turn around to keep facing him as I step outside, and backwards, onto my porch.
“Maybe I’m making a mistake, an even bigger mistake than letting you stay here last night, but hopefully you’ll prove me wrong.”
Harry narrows his brows, but he doesn’t speak before I continue.
“Just lock the door up for me, alright?”
Turning around completely, I head towards my car while unlocking it, and I slip in the driver’s seat as I punch the address to the venue into my GPS. I get out of my driveway and onto the road as I truly process the fact that I’ve left Harry alone in my house.
“Please,” I whisper, shaking my head. “Please prove me wrong.”
●・○・●・○・●
Taglist: @daydreamingofmatilda @prettygurl-2009 @ghoststyles @lillefroe @gem1712 @lemoncrushh (if you’d like to be added to my taglist, please send me a DM!)
#harry styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fic#harry styles writing#harry edward styles#harry styles ff#harry styles fanfic#harry styles au#harry fanfic#harrystylesfanfic#harry styles fan fic#harry styles fiction#harrystyles#harry#harry fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#harry styles x fmc#harry styles x original character#harry x fmc#harry x original character#dark!harrystyles#dark!harry#harry styles angst#harry styles story
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Changes chapter 3
< Previous chapter
The boardwalk was as brightly lit as always, children screaming and laughing, parents trying to herd their families back together. Retailers who had a stall on the walk, shouting out their prices and showing of their goods. Max grinned. Some things never changed. Back in the day the markets had been that way, and even now in modern day America people were still the same.
Max liked it, the business and the liveliness of the place. Julie, however, seemed tense when they arrived. Max looked at her. She was pulling the sleeves of her dress down, looking at him with a certain sense of uncertainty. Never before had she been around humans in such a way, and there were a lot of humans. She still didn't quite know why she didn't consider herself human anymore, but part of her knew something had permanently changed.
"If the smell of the humans gets too much, try to breath through your mouth. You'll smell less of it then."
Julie nodded, taking his advice to heart. She could do this, right? It would be good for her to be out and about to see other people. Lucien had said so, back when he saved her. So, taking a deep breath - and then regretting it as the mouthwatering smell of the humans hit her nose - she followed Max. He led her through the crowds until he entered a large store. A dozen televisions were showing movies and videoclips, of race scenes and leather clad singers - but luckily, none of them had any sound on. Instead, there was some soft popmusic playing in the background. It was a nice store, she decided, thinking that she herself would probably go here if she wanted a movie. Julie looked up as someone greeted them. Behind the counter stood a young woman, probably a year or two older than her, dressed in a tanktop. Her dark curls bounced when she moved her head, and she had a gentle, playful air about her.
"Hi! I didn't expect to see you here tonight, Max."
"I just wanted to check in," he smiled kindly at the girl standing behind the counter. "Has the new shipment arrived?"
"Not only that, we've already entered them to your computersystem and priced them as well."
"See, that's why I hired you. Anyways, I'd like you to meet Julie."
Julie looked up shyly, waving at the girl.
"Nice to meet you, I'm Maria."
Julie smiled before looking at the videos Max' store had to offer. There were lots, in many different genres. There were titles she'd never heard of and in languages she'd never seen before. She didn't pay attention to what Max was doing. She just focused on herself, ignoring the smell of the humans and ignoring the bugging question in her mind why they smelt so good.
"So you're Julie?"
The girl froze, looking at the person standing in front of her with wide doe eyes.
"I told you not to scare her."
When she heard David's voice, she relaxed a little. The man in front of her, with wild blond manes and a dangling chain on his jacket, just grinned goofily. He was probably one of the sons Max had told her about.
"No worries, girl - I'm Paul."
Julie nodded, smiling shyly. Despite her initial scare, he seemed carefree and kind.
"How are you liking Santa Carla?"
She shrugged. It was different, but not all that bad she supposed.
"You'll get used to it, in a couple of weeks you'll wish you'd never have to leave!" He grinned. "Has Max been treating you well?"
She nodded, a bit taken aback by his question. Paul didn't seem to notice - or care for that matter. He just asked her more and more questions. Julie bit her lip, beginning to feel a little awkward. Paul was mindful, asking mainly yes or no questions, but still. He wanted to know a lot. Whether she liked horror movies, if she'd ever been to another country, whether she liked stormy whether or not. It was a bit much.
"Let the girl breathe, Paul," another guy showed up. His jacket was filled with bright coloured patches. Julie looked at them, smiling as she saw one with the title Pigeon Defence Force. He looked at Julie with a small smile. "I'm Marko."
"Julie, are you ready to go?" Max stood at the beginning of the aisle, looking at her and his boys. She nodded, smiling at the boys as she left. This wasn't so bad. Paul was a bit much, but David seemed kind - and so did Marko in the minute she met him. Maybe Lucien had been right. Maybe this would help her.
Julie had expected that they'd go to the car and that they'd go back to the house. Instead, however, Max took her all the way over the boardwalk, all the way to the point where the walk ended and turned into the beach. Julie shot him a questioning look, causing Max to pause.
"We have to feed."
She raised an eyebrow. Feed was a weird way to put it - why not just call it eating or going out for dinner? And, and this is what confused her most, why did they go all the way here when all the restaurants were on the boardwalk?
"You'll be fine."
Julie didn't believe him for a second. Why would he not tell her what was going on, and why did she need to be fine? What was going to happen that caused him to say that? She felt wary as she followed him, feeling a hollow pit form in her stomach as she saw where they were headed. Two people. Two people sitting by a fire. They were roasting marshmallows on the fire, laughing as they talked. Julie looked at them, and started to feel horrified. These people were not much older than her. They were seemingly on a date, enjoying their night and -
Something deep inside her clicked, bringing the horrible thought of killing them to the forefront of her mind. Was this what Max had meant? Was this why Lucien told her she needed help? Did she need help because she wanted to kill them? Or was it because of something else? She froze, her thoughts overwhelming her a bit. Why did she want to kill them? Why did she feel a hunger, burning in her throat? Why did she rush forward before Max even said anything, and why did she rip the throat out of the male, hungrily and greedily biting his neck and consuming the blood. Why did it all go automatically, as if she'd done it a hundred times before?
It was as if she wasn't herself, as if someone else had taken over. When the body in her hands was drained from its blood, she let it fall to the ground. She stared at it, frozen. Had she - had she really just killed him? She looked at her hands, feeling the stickiness of the blood. It was drying already, slowly but surely, turning flaky before her eyes.
What had she done?
Max had fed, making sure to do it quickly. Julie was still draining her body, as he cleaned up his. When she was done, he threw the corpse on the fire they'd been sitting around at. Only when he was certain no remains would be found, did he look at Julie, realising how terrified she looked. She was still frozen in place. Maybe she truly hadn't fed before, being forced to kill in a way that wasn't in her control in order to change. He sighed as he saw a slight tremble, catching her before she sunk to the ground.
"You're alright, Julie. You did good."
As she steadied herself, she glared at him, with a look that could only be interpreted as one thing. What do you mean I did good?
"This is what you are."
As he stretched out a hand to comfortingly touch her shoulder, she roughly pushed him away.
"You're a vampire. This, drinking blood, is what you need to do to survive."
She glared at him, terrified, as she stepped further and further away from him.
"I don't know how you changed, but if you want to live, this is what you need to do."
A tear rolled down her face as she shook her head. She wouldn't, she couldn't, this was - she glared at Max, with such a hatred that he knew it was better to stay back. She turned around and ran.
She ran as fast as she could, sometimes feeling as if she was flying. She ran through the woods, gasping for air as the tears kept coming. She'd just killed a man. She killed him, and she - as much as she was horrified at what she had done, drinking his blood had felt good. Why did it feel good? Why had Max not warned her about what she was? Why -
She stumbled over a large rock, falling to the ground. She groaned as she felt the sharp rocks and sturdy branches push into her skin. Slowly, she sat up, leaning against the rock she'd tripped over. It was a comically large stone to trip over, she realised, and she wasn't sure whether she wanted to laugh or cry about that fact. She slowly caught her breath, hugging her knees as she let her tears flow. Exhausted, she fell asleep in the middle of the forest.
That's how Max found her, half an hour before sunrise. Asleep, and curled up against that rock. Carefully, he lifted her in his arms, careful not to disturb her, and quickly, he took to the sky, knowing it would be quicker than going by car. Once he arrived home, he brought her to her bedroom, tucking her in. She stirred in her sleep, lazily opening her eyes.
"I'm sorry for not telling you more clearly about our nature," Max said as he noticed the fearful expression on her face. "I would have ran too, if I hadn't known."
Her expression changed, from fear to confusion. She looked at him.
"I'm not angry with you. You did well, despite not knowing. I'm just glad I found you before the sun got up."
She nodded, yawning tiredly.
"Now, try and get some sleep. Tomorrow, I'll explain more about what we are and what you are."
Next chapter > (available on May 26th)
#the lost boys#marko#david#paul#dwayne#tlb#the lost boys 1987#tlb 1987#star#the lost boys x reader#tlb max#tlb david#marko tlb#paul tlb#dwayne tlb#changes
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tfw the pretty merc smiles at you and you were not prepared
#goro takemura#cyberpunk 2077#cp2077edit#gamingedit#cyberpunk 2077 v#oc: valerie v powell#c: goro takemura#ship: goro x valerie#g: cyberpunk 2077#mine: edits#wanted to try something a little different tonight#seeing them in motion really hits that much harder#fave: goro x valerie
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.
#these are just some thoughts re: friendship as a result of tonight that i need to jot down somewhere but#realising that i really do have a strict and set idea of Good Friend(ship) and what that entails to me#and id written people off bc i wasn't yk ~receiving love or friendship the way id prefer and i was angry with them for that/hurt about it#did i communicate that to them though? nooo. was i fully right in that? also no. like just bc i felt unheard didn't fully mean#that they were doing something wrong. they were trying in their own way (and sometimes they weren't really or it just wasn't nice)#but that's about how we match and how we communicate right? this is so silly that's so basic but it never fully clicked for me like this#i was blaming them for stuff and building up resentment without ever expressing that (and i still haven't yk dhshsjd)#and i think where i went ~wrong was in thinking that bc i felt that way they weren't ~giving me what i need#when it's like... but did i pick up on the ways in which they DID appreciate me and show me love etc? did i give them ANYTHING to work with?#(ok yes occasionally but also... tangent but i was watching a variety show and they were teasing woozi about how#he gives interviewers/hosts literally nothing to work with. like no extra information for them to ask about or tease him for or anything#and i was like ohhhhhh. yeah i do do that sometimes with friends and it's genuinely smth i don't really know how to do like#giving casual information (but not too much and not too little???) so they can then ask questions etc. so then if im like ughh#they never ask (the right) questions or show interest (or let me talk but that's a different thing dhsjdjd) it's like...#well do i give them the chance to? much to think about thank you woozi)#anyways where was i dhsjsnsnsjns idk but it's soooo annoying that i haven't figured this all out yet#but im slowly letting go off a bunch of resentment that has truly no business being here and im trying to self reflect and all that#and im honestly doing so shit some days but others days it's? finding stuff that matters to me on a deeper level ig?#and all of it really does pale in the face of multiple genocides and it's. but yk. if i want to keep fighting#i need to build a strong foundation and sort my shit out as well and be present so im really really trying#and beating my stupid stupid depression and brain with a stick until i get there
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