#the reader gets less annoying in the next chapter

[certifiedcallahanstan]

The memoir of a horny fangirl

chapter 2

Warnings: This is a pretty heavy chapter, it shows a really vulnerable side to Hazel and the shitty side of the reader. I had to get this chapter done, so the rest can be lighter and more *spicy*. The next chapter will get back to baseball hazel!!

This chapter contains: sa

It’s been a couple days since you had received the picture and you know you shouldn’t be upset, Hazel is a grown woman and is allowed to kiss whomever she wants, it’s not like you two are together anyways. That however doesn’t stop you from trying to avoid her.

P.J invites you to the coffee shop with Josie and Brittany to do quote on quote “studying” which really means she wants to talk to you all about her latest hook up.

Despite your initial reluctance, you find yourself getting caught up in the conversation.

“and i mean it wasn’t a fucking normal sized strap, that shit was like- fucking xxl” P.J moves her hands at least a feet apart from eachother trying to demonstrate the size and josie scrunches up her nose.

“I don’t need to hear that P.J, you keep that to yourself” she huffs and you cover your mouth trying to stop a laugh from escaping.

For a brief moment, the weight of your emotions regarding Hazel and the photo fade into the background as you lose yourself in the conversation until eventually Brittany convinces everyone that we should probably study.

You pull out your notes adorned with doodles of different sea creatures and facts about them when you hear a familiar voice approach the table.

“Hey guys” the voice that belongs to the shaggy brunette starts “Josie told me you all were studying and that..” she looks at her phone reading the text “We are about to kill P.J, please come before one of us commits a felony”

P.J just responds with a huff a mutters something along the lines of “you all are just mad i get more hoes” as Hazel pulls out a chair and joins the group.

You scoot slightly more away from Hazel hoping nobody will notice. unfortunately these chairs are millenniums old and makes and obnoxious screeching noise

You cringe inwardly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks as all eyes turn in your direction.

Hazel's gaze flickers briefly in your direction, her brow furrowing in confusion at the sudden noise.

"Sorry about that," you mumble, offering a sheepish smile as you try to play off the noise. "These chairs are... uh, not the most cooperative."

Everyone seems to accept that excuse as they get back to their previous tasks. You start shading in the sea creature you were previously drawing in your journal when you feel P.J looming over you.

“what the fuck knuckles is that” she says as she points at your drawing

you look down at a your notebook where you had draw what looks like a eel-shark hybrid

“it’s called a frilled shark” you start explaining as all eyes look at you “they get their name from the frilly appearance of their gill sets. In fact they’re one of the few sharks that eat their prey whole…”

You trail off awkwardly, realizing that you may have gone a bit overboard with your explanation when you see everyone blankly staring at you. Clearing your throat, you try to steer the conversation back on track.

"Anyway, um... yeah, it's just a cool creature I thought I'd draw," you finish lamely

“I think it’s sick”

you turn your head to the voice and see Hazel smiling at you “i mean a shark that moves like an eel?”

"Yeah, exactly!" you respond, a smile spreading across your face as you meet Hazel's gaze. "It's pretty fascinating how they've adapted to their environment."

fuck why does she have to be so damn irresistible.

your thoughts are cut off by the slamming of a text book and you see Brittany getting up “my brain feels all mushy, im going home to take a nap”

Josie nods, putting her computer in her back pack “i should probably get back to Isabel” and P.J mutters something about going to “fuck then duck” whatever that means.

Soon enough it’s just you and Hazel, you try to ignore the tension, but damn it’s so thick you could cut it with a knife.

For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence stretching between you as you both seem lost in your own thoughts. You fidget nervously, unsure of what to say.

Finally, Hazel clears her throat, breaking the silence with a hesitant smile. "So... um, how have you been?" she asks, her voice soft and tentative.

You swallow, trying to push aside the swirling emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. "I've been okay," you reply, your voice slightly strained. "Just... you know, trying to stay busy with school and stuff."

and not making out with random red heads and getting chlamydia you add in your head.

Hazel nods, her gaze flickering briefly as she seems to search for the right words. "Yeah, I get that," she says quietly “hey um..have you been avoiding me? i’ve tried to text you but you haven’t answered and everytime i try to come up to you you walk the opposite direction”

your jaw clenches as you start putting everything in your shark printed back pack “what reason would i have to avoid you Hazel” your voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

she runs her ringed fingers through her hair and you try not to notice the prominent veins “that’s what i’m trying to figure out, did i do something?”

“not everything is about you callahan” you grunt out as you try to gather all your loose papers

“here let me help-“

“i don’t need your help” you shove her arm away and in the process her hand hits an open water bottle spilling water all over your notebook. the notebooks that has three years worth of research in it

A sense of panic washes over you as you scramble to salvage what you can, frantically wiping at the water with trembling hands. Hazel watches helplessly, her expression a mixture of concern and regret.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to... I was just trying to..."

You cut her off with a sharp gesture, your own frustration boiling over as you struggle to contain your emotions. "Just... leave me alone, Hazel," you mutter, your voice thick with emotion.

she steps back as her eyebrows knit together “this wouldn’t have happened if you just let me help. Maybe instead of pushing people away talk to them”

You can see the hurt etched in her features, and for a moment, you feel a pang of guilt tug at your conscience.

"I'm sorry, I just..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. With a heavy sigh, you toss your notebook into the trash and sling your backpack over your shoulder

"I have to go," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn away, unable to face Hazel in that moment. With each step you take, the distance between you and Hazel grows, the ache of regret gnawing at your heart.

Hazel just presses her lips together and nods before you see the same red head from the photo calling her name in an annoying high pitched voice.

You watch in silence as Hazel hesitates, her eyes briefly searching yours for any sign of a response. Before you can gather your thoughts, she turns away, putting on a fake smile as the red-headed girl approaches.

"What's up, Becca?" she says, her tone polite but strained, the artificiality of her smile not escaping your notice.

you turn away, knowing that it's not your place to intervene in Hazel's personal life. And also if you stayed there someone would be getting punched in the face, and here’s a hint. it wasn’t going to be you.

—————————————

“Did you say sorry at least?” Isabel ask as you lay upside down on her bed, letting the blood flow rush to your head to try to forget about what Josie now calls “they great water incident” that happened last week

"Yeah, I did," you reply with a sigh, your voice muffled from your upside-down position. “kinda.. i dunno. I mean you should’ve seen the way that becky, bexar, what ever the fuck her name is held onto her”

P.J shoves a handful of chips into her mouth and shrugs “i say kill the bitch”

Josie tosses a pillow at her face and huffs “We already have one murderous charge against us, we don’t need another”

Isabel nods in agreement. "Exactly. We'll figure this out without resorting to murder,"

“fine” P.J huffs holding her hands in the air “but just know that i know people”

“mhmm” you hum as you launch yourself back into an upright position on the bed stealing chips from P.J’s bowl.

As the group starts debating whether han solo or darth vader would be better in bed, you can’t help but wonder at this exact moment what hazel is doing.

——————————————

Hazel sits on her bed in her apartment talking about how the frilled shark can unhinge their jaw and eat prey at least twice their size as the red head sits and stares at her.

Hazel has never been one for social cues, she sincerely honestly thought that Rebecca just needed a friend, and sure they made out at the party but in her defense her face looked similar to yours in the midst of her 6 shots.

So here they are in Hazels apartment, Hazel blabbering about the eel-shark abomination (that she most definitely didn’t spend five hours researching after finding out about it)

“Rebecca? did you hear what i said” she stops and tilts her head with wide eyes

Rebecca nods and turns to Hazel “mhm- yeah the shark is like- long or some shit”

“you seem distracted” the brunette mutters “and it’s not called a long shark it’s called a frilled shark because-“ her sentence is interrupted when she hears Rebecca let out a drawn out sigh and move closer to Hazel.

“Yeah that’s kinda gross Hazey and i’m bored so how about we have some fun…”

“i don’t know what you mean-“ hazel starts before the girl lifts her shirt off and suddenly Hazel realizes why this girl has been being so nice to her.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea," Hazel stammers, her voice tinged with unease as she shifts uncomfortably on the bed.

“come on baby” Rebecca whines as she crawls into an unwilling Hazels lap “I’ve heard how good you are in bed”

And it’s true, Hazel was amazing in bed and she has had her fair share of hookups, but usually she knows about them before.

"Rebecca, I... I really don't think this is a good idea," Hazel insists, her voice shaky as she gently tries to push Rebecca away. "I'm not interested in anything like that right now."

“shhh” Rebecca whispers out as she slams her lips against Hazels and suddenly everything seems too much, Rebecca’s lips are wet, the lights are too bright, the AC is too loud. Panic grips her as she struggles to push Rebecca away, her thoughts a jumble of fear and confusion.

"Stop," Hazel manages to choke out, her voice barely audible over the rush of blood in her ears. She pushes against Rebecca's chest with all her strength, her heart pounding with urgency.

Rebecca pulls back, frustration evident on her face. "What's wrong?" she demands, her voice tinged with irritation.

Hazel's chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, her mind reeling with a flood of emotions. "I... I told you to stop," she says, her voice trembling

Rebecca's expression darkens, her features contorted with anger as she takes a step forward. "You're just playing hard to get,"

Hazel manages to push Rebecca off her lap and quickly stands up, putting some distance between them.

"I think it's best if you leave," she says firmly, her voice trembling slightly with the effort to maintain composure.

With a frustrated huff, Rebecca storms out of the room, leaving Hazel alone with her racing thoughts and pounding heart. As she sinks onto the bed she grabs her phone with shakey hands and presses your contact then the call button.

“Hey what’s up” your voice bellows out from Hazels phone

“Hey i don’t know what-“

“HAHA JK this is my voice mail, leave a message or don’t i don’t care” your voice interrupts and Hazel can’t help the tears that fall down her face

“Hey..i don’t know if you’ll see this but Rebecca was here and i thought we were just friends, i mean i know i kissed her but i was drunk and..anyways we were talking and-“ Hazels voice cracks “-and she climbed on me and i told her to get off but she didn’t and- and she kissed me and maybe it’s my fault but..i don’t know what the point of calling you is because i’m pretty sure you hate me. I dunno, i just needed to tell someone.”

She presses the hang up button and brings her knees to her chest letting out a sob. How could she have been so stupid? Flash backs of when her dad would buy her these new suits and buttons up because he knew you hated dresses, but then make her get dressed in front of him flashed back into her mind.

Despite her best efforts to push those memories aside, they continue to haunt her, casting a shadow over her as she cries herself eventually to sleep.

———————————

it’s not until two days later that you see the voice mail, you’re sitting in your biology class with your airpod in when you click the play button.

“What the fuck?!” you blurt out when it finishes and suddenly all eyes are on you.

You smile sheepishly as you gather all of your belongings and rush out of the classroom calling P.J

after three rings she answers with a “I’m talking to this really hot chick so this better be important”

“You remember when we said that we weren’t going to kill anyone anymore”

P.J hums “well YOU ALL said that, i never actually agreed to it”

“Yeah well…it’s time for some killing..or at least seriously maiming”

as you explained the situation to P.J, the last thing she said before she hung up was

“let’s go kick some leprechaun ass”

————————————

Okay so YOU didn’t kick some leprechaun ass, P.J insisted she could take Rebecca herself and you assuming it went well because as you were driving (well over the speed limit) to Hazels house you receive a message from P.J saying “i’m like 75% sure she’s still alive, anyways if police come questioning you, say a rabid bear attacked her”

You chose not to question her further.

You get to Hazels house and you take a deep breath, you’ve never been good at comforting people, usually you just pat their back and give them water. You assume that probably won’t work for this situation .

Taking a deep breath, you exit your car and make your way to Hazel's apartment. Each step feels heavier than the last, the weight of the situation bearing down on you with each passing moment.

you knock on the door three times fast, two slow, that was your signature knock for her since middle school. As the door swings open, you're greeted by the sight of Hazel, her eyes red-rimmed from tears. Without a word, you pull her into a tight embrace, holding her close.

“y-you came-“ Hazel mutters out as you pull away and she wipes her eyes

“yeah of course haze, im sorry i didn’t see the voice mail till today”

Hazel nods, her expression grateful as she steps back, allowing you to enter her apartment. As you settle into the living room, Hazel gestures for you to take a seat on the couch beside her. You can sense her hesitancy, so you squeeze her hand and softly smile.

“you can talk to me about whatever, you know that right haze?”

Hazel meets your gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions—vulnerability, fear, and a glimmer of hope. With a shaky breath, she begins to recount the events of that night, pouring out her heart and soul to you.

And all you saw was fucking red. How the fuck could someone do this to her Hazel, her sweet, beautiful, funny Hazel?

Your heart pounds in your chest as Hazel's words sink in, each one feeling like a blow to your own sense of justice. Anger simmers beneath the surface as you listen to the betrayal she endured, your grip on her hand tightening instinctively.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you meet Hazel's gaze with determination burning in your eyes. "Hazel, I am so sorry that you had to go through that," you say, your voice firm but gentle. "But I promise you, we will get through this together. I won't let anyone hurt you like that again."

Hazel coughs out a laugh and looks at you with wet eyes “That’s supposed to be my line”

You smile softly at her response, a flicker of warmth spreading through your chest. "Well, consider it borrowed for now," you say, returning her gaze with sincerity. "Because I mean every word of it. I'm here for you, Hazel, no matter what."

In that moment, as you sit together in quiet solidarity, you know that your bond with Hazel runs deeper than words can express. And with that unspoken understanding, you both find solace in each other's presence.

#hazel callahan #hazel callahan fanfiction #josie bottoms #wlw post #pj bottoms #bottoms 2023 #bottoms movie #hazel callahan x reader #Sad hazel callahan #annoying reader #it gets more interesting i promise #the reader gets less annoying in the next chapter #angst with a happy ending #heavy topics

[punkshort]

i'll be home for christmas | part one

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Having just caught your fiancé cheating on you, you decide to come back home from the big city to Austin for the month of December to try to figure out your next step. You had no idea you would be getting more than you bargained for with the handsome single dad who built your parents' house.

Chapter Warnings: no outbreak, modern day but Joel is 40, language, fluff, flirting, reader has a childhood nickname only her family uses, Hallmark tropes up the wazoo, soft!joel, reader's sister is pregnant, talks of infidelity, talks of divorce, alcohol use, kissing, (smut in part two)

WC: 9.1K

A/N: this is my take on a cheesy, fluffy, soft, smutty, Joel Miller Hallmark Christmas movie. It's just sweet and silly and makes me smile, and I hope it does the same for you. I also wrote this in less than 2 days and didn't really edit it much, so sorry in advance if there's any errors.

Found the pic on Twitter but can't remember the source, if you know please send me a message and i will credit them

Series Masterlist

It was the second week of December as you stood inside the airport in Austin, Texas, waiting for your luggage to emerge on the conveyor belt. You thought by coming home early, you would have avoided the holiday traffic, but you were wrong. All around you, people squealed with excitement and embraced, dragging their worn out luggage behind them as they made their way out of the bustling airport. You tried to keep the scowl from your face as you watched, but it was next to impossible, so you wrapped your Burberry scarf around your neck instead, hoping to hide your displeasure.

This was not the plan you had for Christmas. You should be in New York in a high-rise apartment in front of a roaring fireplace with a glass of wine and your fiancé - ex-fiancé - not back in Austin with your parents, who begged you to come visit for the holidays after you told them the news.

Coming home to visit wasn't your favorite thing, but you felt guilty having avoided the holidays with your family for so many years, and you would have ended up all alone in the city anyway. So you caved, using up all the PTO you saved for the wedding, and took the rest of the year off from work.

Your designer luggage stood out like a sore thumb when it tumbled down the conveyor belt. You winced after watching the impact and snatched it up quickly. Glancing around, you saw a beacon in the storm: a familiar green, glowing sign in the distance - Starbucks. The line was long, but your flight was early, so you waited and got a latte, hoping it would lift your spirits a bit before you had to face your parents.

You tapped the side of your coffee cup anxiously as you rode the escalator down to the first floor, scanning the crowd for your mom and dad. There were a few people holding up signs with names on them, and when you saw the sign that said "Bucket" on it, you cringed.

Your dad's tall, round frame came into view when the people in front of him dispersed. He looked almost exactly the same, except a little greyer. Still sporting a shockingly full head of hair and his signature thick mustache, he grinned and pulled you into a warm hug.

"Really, Dad? 'Bucket'?"

"Well, that's what we call you, ain't it?" he said with a smile. You rolled your eyes and tried to be annoyed, but you had to admit that you were happy to see him.

"Where's Mom?" you asked.

"She's waitin' in the car, didn't wanna pay for parking so we're in a pick up zone, let's hustle," he said, wrapping his arm around you as he led you outside. "How was the flight?"

"Long," you said, then gasped when the cold air hit you. "Wow, I didn't think it would be this cold yet."

"It's been a cold one so far this year," he nodded, directing you to the left where you could see your mom smiling and waving from the passenger seat of their white SUV. You waved back and grinned. Maybe coming home wasn't such a bad idea, after all.

"Hiya, Bucky!" your mom said happily, leaning out of the window to give you a half hug while your dad loaded up your belongings in the back.

"Hey, Mom," you replied. "I like your sweater."

She was wearing one of her tacky Christmas sweaters that she wore every year - unironically. It amazed you how some things never change.

You climbed into the back seat as your dad carefully exited the parking spot and joined the line of cars that were slowly inching towards the main road.

"We're so glad you decided to come home this year, you can finally see the new house!" your mom said excitedly. They had built a brand new house, and the way she provided updates and pictures to you over the phone for the past year, you felt like you had already seen it.

"Yeah, can't wait," you said, staring out the window.

"Hope you don't mind, but we're throwin' a party tomorrow night," your dad said, glancing at you in the review mirror. "Wanted to have our friends over to see the place and have an early holiday party. They'll be so happy to see you, it's been so long since you've been home, Buck."

You had been hoping to spend most of the next three weeks in bed moping and scrolling on your phone. The thought of a party and seeing all those people looking at you with pity made your stomach turn. Your mom must have sensed your discomfort.

"It's alright, honey. They won't say anything," she said softly, and you squeezed your eyes shut.

"Okay," you replied, your voice pained as you opened your eyes to stare at the passing traffic on the thruway.

You'll make an appearance for an hour, and then try to sneak back upstairs until the party ends, already fabricating a headache to blame it on.

The house your parents built was impressive, even you had to admit. It was a two story colonial with four bedrooms and three bathrooms. The open floor plan was stunning as you made your way from room to room. The first floor alone had a spacious living room with vaulted ceilings, a kitchen with an attached dining room, and a separate family room off the back. There was even a small office by the front door that you missed the first time around, and a pantry as big as your closet back home.

You cringed at the thought, reminding yourself that it was no longer your home. That was part of the problem. You had moved in with Will, and when you discovered he had been cheating on you, you crashed at your friend Melanie's place. When you tearfully told your parents the news a few days later, they asked you to come home. Just for the holidays, your mom had said. Just to give you time to figure out your next move.

"This is beautiful, Mom," you said honestly, admiring the fine details on the cabinets.

"Thank you, sweetie. Took a long time, but Joel built it just right for us," she said, beaming.

"Oh, the contractor, right?" you replied, distracted now by the backsplash above the counters.

"He's such a sweet man, he was so patient with us when we changed our minds a million times over every little thing."

"Well, tell him he did a great job," you murmured, opening and shutting different drawers.

"You can tell him yourself, he'll be at the party tomorrow," your dad said, opening the fridge to scrounge for some snacks.

"You invited your contractor to your holiday party?" you asked in disbelief.

"Sure we did. We either saw him or spoke to him almost every single day for a year. He's a good man."

"Okay," you said slowly, still finding it a bit strange, but reminding yourself that things worked a little differently in the south.

"Bucket!" you heard your sister call from the front of the house. A smile plastered across your face instantly as you rushed to the door, both of you squealing as you wrapped your arms around each other and jumped in a circle, unable to contain your excitement.

"Cassie!" you said, pulling back to look at her, brushing her sleek, dark brown hair over her shoulder. "You look fantastic!"

"Ugh, I feel like shit," she said, and you laughed, glancing down at her barely swollen belly.

"How far along are you again?" you asked.

"Twenty weeks, but I'm ready for this to be over! I'm so tired all the time, it sucks," she said, flopping down on the couch in the living room after she gave your parents quick hugs.

"Where's Josh?" your mom asked, referring to your brother in law.

"He's still working, he'll be by later," Cassie said, waving her hand. "Gives us a chance to catch up," she added with a wink.

"You girls do that, we need to go to the store for tomorrow night. Do you need anything?" your mom asked, and you shook your head, eager for them to leave so you could be alone with your sister.

"Tell me everything," Cassie said the moment the door clicked shut.

If it were anyone else, you wouldn't have been in the mood to talk about the mess that was currently your life, but you've always been able to talk about anything with your sister. You trusted each other implicitly and there was no judgement, no matter if you had cheated on a test or gotten drunk during prom, you told each other everything.

So you did. You told her how for months, you felt like something was off with Will. How he would stay out late and say it was for work, but none of his work friends ever posted about going anywhere those nights on social media. He grew more distant and you tried to ignore your paranoia, but when he collapsed into bed one night, too out of it to wash up, and you saw the lipstick on his neck the next morning, you lost it. He hardly even tried to explain himself, barely even attempted to lie, and you began to think maybe he wanted to get caught. Maybe he wanted you to do the dirty work and end things so he didn't have to. Fucking coward.

"What a piece of shit. I never liked him," Cassie said when you were finished. "He acted like he was so much better than everyone when he was here, do you remember the comments he made about the wine mom had? It was so fucking rude."

"Yeah, I know," you agreed.

"So why were you even with him?"

"We had been together since college, Cas," you said, exasperated. "I knew him before he was like that. He used to be sweet and fun. Then he got that finance job and met all those assholes and he became just like them."

"Well, I'm just glad you didn't end up married before finding out what he's really like," she said, shifting her weight on the couch with her hand cupping her small stomach. "That would have been a huge mess."

"It's still a huge mess, I have no where to live now, and I can only couch surf for so long," you said, burying your face in your hands.

"You'll figure it out, Buck. I'll help you look for places online while you're here. Maybe set up some appointments so you can tour them when you get back."

"Thanks," you said, giving her a weak smile. "That would actually be great."

"Now, on to more important things," your sister said, slapping her palms against her knees to stand.

"Baby names?" you asked.

"No! Let's figure out what you'll wear to the party tomorrow," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "I wanna look through all your fancy designer clothes."

You giggled and stood to join her.

"Fine, but I'm still dropping baby names while you look," you replied.

After spending a majority of the next day helping your parents decorate and prepare food for the party, you finally were able to excuse yourself to shower and get ready. Cassie had picked out a Ralph Lauren lace cocktail dress that Will had bought for your birthday last year. You slipped it on, running your hands over the fabric as you adjusted the dress in the mirror. Just because he bought it didn't mean you couldn't wear it again. You snatched the glass of wine from your dresser and took a sip, trying to push the thought of him from your head as you made your way downstairs.

Cassie and Josh were already in the kitchen, munching on appetizers and chatting with your parents. Cassie let out a low whistle when you entered the room. You waved her off and gave Josh a big hug and kiss on the cheek.

"Good to see you," you told him with a smile. "All ready for the baby?"

"Getting there," Josh replied, wrapping an arm around Cassie's waist. You tried to ignore the ugly, jealous pit in your stomach as he told you how the nursery was coming along. You wasted so many years of your life on Will. Your sister was already married and starting a family, and here you were, basically homeless and starting over. Pathetic.

Family friends slowly began to trickle into the house, luckily being whisked away by your parents to give them a tour after you meekly greeted them and hid back in the kitchen. As more and more people arrived, you began to wonder how your parents kept so many close friends when you barely had a handful back in New York.

A few kids raced by you in the kitchen as you made your way to the bar to refill your wine. Even though it was loud, you could still hear your dad's booming voice as he regaled a friend with a fishing story. You wandered around a bit, trying to find Cassie and Josh so you didn't look out of place, but stopped dead in your tracks when you saw them chatting with Mr. Tanner and his son, Troy, backing away before they could see you. Troy used to have the biggest crush on you when you were kids. If he found out you were single, you wouldn't be able to shake him all night.

You eventually found yourself alone, back in front of the snacks. You picked at the chips on your plate, not really interested in eating but hoping to avoid any awkward conversations, so you kept your eyes down, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. Apparently, it wasn't good enough because you felt someone sidle up next to you.

"Those any good?" a deep, unfamiliar drawl spoke from your side. You looked up to find the softest pair of brown eyes you've ever seen on a man. Blinking, you took a moment as your gaze raked over his patchy beard and the dark, tousled curls on his head. They looked so soft, you had to resist the urge to reach out and touch them. What was wrong with you?

"Huh?" you managed to squeak out after you realized you had waited too long to reply. Idiot.

"The, uh, chips," he said, pointing at your plate before rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh!" you said, looking at your plate, completely forgetting you even had it. "Yeah, they're alright."

He nodded and glanced around the room, unsure of what to say next. He cleared his throat and tried again.

"How do you know Paul and Martha?"

Distracted, you watched as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, stretching the fabric of his red flannel over his shoulders, pulling the material taught. You had to remind yourself to pay attention and stop gawking at this man like he was a piece of meat. Jesus, maybe you should stop drinking.

"They're my parents," you said after a moment, your eyes flicking across the room, finding them with a group of their friends with your dad's arm wrapped around your mom's shoulder as she giggled and gazed up at him adoringly.

"Oh, you're Cassie," the man said, his eyes dropping from your face to your stomach, and you swore you saw a glimmer of disappointment.

"No!" you said quickly, your hand subconsciously resting on your midsection. "That's my sister, I'm their other daughter." You told him your name and briefly explained you lived in New York and were just visiting for the holidays.

"They must be real happy, havin' you home for so long," he replied, and you shrugged.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've come home for a visit. I was feeling pretty bad about that," you said, choosing to leave out the biggest reason you were there. This stranger didn't need to be burdened with your love life drama. "Besides, they were so excited to show off the new house," you continued, waving your arm around the room.

"Took us long enough, but it finally came together," he replied with a smile.

"Oh! You must be Joel," you said, realization finally dawning on you.

"Yeah, sorry," he said, shaking his head and stretching out his arm. "That was rude of me, don't know what I was thinkin'." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you shook his hand.

"My parents always have such wonderful things to say about you. The house is beautiful, I was blown away when I first saw it," you told him. "I especially love the little details on the cabinets."

"Thanks," he said with a soft smile, averting his gaze to look at the cabinet behind you. "I actually did that myself. It's kind of a hobby of mine. Closest to art I'll ever get, I guess."

"I don't think it's just 'close' to art, I think it is art. It's stunning," you told him, running your fingertips over the intricate floral design. "You're very talented."

"Well, thank you," he said sheepishly, rubbing his beard to hide his smile. You could see the blush creeping up his neck and you bit your lip with a grin, turning your head to try to give him a moment. Were you making him nervous? He was painfully good looking, could this guy actually be into you? Were you even interested? The break up was still so fresh and it had been so long since you've dated anyone besides Will, you hadn't even considered it yet.

"So, how long have you worked in construction?" you asked after a minute, discarding your plate on the counter to give him your full attention.

"Oh, my whole life. Me and my brother started the business when we were in our twenties. Only thing we were any good at, and luckily it pays the bills," he told you with a shrug, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. "What do you-"

Joel's question was cut off by a young girl with curly brown hair in a red velvet dress bouncing up to him.

"Dad! Can Uncle Tommy take me outside so we can look at the pool?" she asked. Dad? You looked down when he pulled his hands out of his pockets, palming one of the girl's shoulders to quiet her down, and noticed the gold wedding band. Of fucking course.

"The pool? Sarah, it's freezin' out," Joel said, and she grinned.

"I'm not going in, Dad, I just wanna see," she said, rolling her eyes. She glanced over, noticing you for the first time, and smiled. "I really like your dress," she said.

"Thank you," you said, running your hand down the fabric. "I like yours, too."

"Uh, yeah, that's fine. Just make sure Uncle Tommy sticks with you, alright?" Joel relented, and she clapped her hands gleefully before running off again.

"She's cute, how old is she?" you asked him, looking around the room to see if Sarah had run back to a woman who could be Joel's wife.

"She's sixteen," he said, eyeing you carefully. He hadn't thought this far ahead and hoped he wasn't scaring you off.

You turned to him, startled, having guessed she was younger.

"You must have had her young," you said, the words slipping out before you could catch them. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean that like it sounded-"

"No, it's alright," he said with a chuckle. "I did. I'm forty."

You nodded and took a sip from your glass, letting your eyes drift away, rethinking your conversation. Maybe you misread him and he was just being friendly. There was no way he would be flirting with you at a party with his kid right there. But then he cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

"Listen, I hope I'm not bein' too forward, but are you here with anyone?"

You raised your eyebrows at him over your glass. There was no misreading that. Blinking rapidly, you tried to formulate a reply that wouldn't cause a scene. Was he seriously hitting on you with a ring on his finger? You put your glass down on the counter and opened your mouth to reply when your sister's voice interrupted you.

"Bucket! Come here, you remember Troy, right?"

You cringed, at both the nickname and the person in question, before slowly turning your body towards her and forcing a fake smile.

"Of course. How are you?" you said with a hug.

"Doing great, just got a new job with a law firm downtown," Troy said, rubbing his sweaty palms on his jeans and shifting his weight nervously. He began to ramble about his new job as your sister introduced herself to Joel behind you. You resisted the urge to strangle her, reminding yourself she was carrying your baby niece or nephew and that you'll have to wait until after she gave birth to kill her. She knew you couldn't stand Troy, but she probably couldn't get rid of him, either.

You stood there, draining your wine glass while he prattled on for the next twenty minutes. By the time Troy's dad walked over and ushered him away, Joel was nowhere to be found.

Probably for the best, anyway. You were getting really sick and tired of only attracting unfaithful men.

You hadn't considered how annoying it would be to have your parents hovering around you all the time, worried that you were slipping into a depression and trying to get you to join them on activities outside the house. After you felt forced to go sledding with them the day before, you decided to make yourself scarce today, which is why you found yourself at the mall in downtown Austin browsing for a Christmas gift for your future niece or nephew.

As you were looking through a storefront window, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Taking it out, you saw a text from a friend back home.

Sydney: You'll never guess who i just bumped into

You were typing out your response, chin tucked into your chest, when you felt someone knock into you. Startled, you looked up only to lock eyes with Joel the contractor.

"Oh!" you managed to stammer out. His deep brown eyes lit up and a warm smile spread across his face when he looked up and recognized you.

"Sorry, wasn't payin' attention," he said. "How, uh, how are you?"

"Good," you said, nodding and clutching your phone in your hand. "You?"

"Good. Was actually just thinkin' about you," he admitted, looking down and shifting the bag he was carrying from one hand to the other. "Never got to say goodbye to you the other night."

"Yeah, it was pretty crowded. I didn't realize my parents were so popular," you joked. "Is Sarah with you?"

"No, she's in school," he replied, and you bumped the heel of your hand against your forehead, rolling your eyes. Of course she was, it's the middle of the day.

"Duh," you said quietly, finding it hard to hold his gaze without getting butterflies, so you looked away.

"So, uh, I hope this doesn't sound creepy, but I asked your sister if you were seein' anyone the other night," he began, and you felt your face instantly heat up. Why didn't Cassie warn you?? "-was wonderin' if I could get your number."

"Huh?" you asked, your eyes widening as you tried to control your breathing. You glanced down at his hand again when he looked away and saw he was definitely wearing a ring.

"Thought we could go out sometime? If you're interested?" he asked, his own nerves wreaking havoc as he shifted his weight and chewed on the inside of his cheek, praying his face wasn't as red as it felt.

"Are you serious?" you asked him, narrowing your eyes. The audacity of some men!

"'Course I'm serious," he said with a nervous smile. "Thought we hit it off the other night-"

"Joel, listen. I'm not going to say what I'm really thinking for the sake of my parents and everything you did for them, but I am not interested in dating married men," you said with a scowl. He frowned, giving you a confused look before you turned on your heel and stormed away, joining the crowd of Christmas shoppers bustling by.

He looked down at his hand, making a tight fist before swiveling his head around, trying to locate you in the crowd before he lost you.

"Hey, wait!" he called out, pushing past clusters of people as he jogged to try and keep up with you. He called out your name as he got closer. You stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, causing surprised shoppers to have to redirect at the last minute to avoid running into you.

"Hey, I'm sorry-"

"You should apologize to your wife!" you said loudly, causing a few people to turn their heads in your direction as they walked past. Joel looked around nervously.

"I'm not married," he clarified quietly. You looked down at his hand again and he flexed his fingers.

"Can we get a coffee or somethin'? And I'll explain," he begged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each second that passed as you considered your answer. "Please."

"Fine," you agreed, and his face relaxed once again.

You sat down at a coffee shop within Barnes and Noble as Joel ordered you both something to drink. As you watched him at the counter, you admired his long legs and broad shoulders underneath his brown coat and wondered what possible excuse he was going to come up with.

Oh my god, what if she died?

You rubbed your eyes, hoping you didn't just insult a widower in the middle of a crowded mall.

Joel joined you at the table and set your coffee down in front of you with a smile.

"Thank you," you said softly, fiddling with the cup and avoiding his eyes as he shrugged his coat off, revealing a navy blue V-neck sweater underneath. Your eyes drifted to the small patch of bare chest that was exposed and your stomach clenched. Swallowing hard, you forced yourself to meet his gaze, but he was staring down at his ring finger.

"I'm not married anymore, just wanna make that crystal clear," he began, still staring at his ring.

"Okay," you said slowly, waiting for him to continue. He sighed.

"We've been divorced for a few years now," he said, finally looking at you. "It was... hard. Really hard. I, uh," he scratched his beard as he struggled to find the words. "I've had a tough time lettin' go. Thought for a while we might get back together, so I didn't take it off. Then I guess I just got so used to it, I never thought... I'm sorry, I sound like a mess," he said with a sad smile.

"It's alright, I think I understand," you told him, and he looked at you with renewed optimism, encouraged to continue.

"I never took it off because I never thought 'bout askin' anyone out til now," he said. "Didn't realize how that would come across, you just took me by surprise that night and I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you."

You blushed and looked down at your coffee, trying to hide your smile behind your cup, but he saw it and grinned.

"Are you still in love with her?" you asked him. You didn't want to get wrapped up in something that would end up hurting you in the end.

"No," he said firmly. "I mean, I'll always care for her. She gave me Sarah, how could I not? But I'm not in love with her anymore."

You nodded as you absorbed his words, glancing around the little coffee shop before dragging your eyes back to his. He was looking at you expectantly, waiting for you to ask anything else that would make you comfortable with accepting a date from him.

"Well, thank you for being honest with me, but I'm not sure I'm ready for a relationship just yet."

Joel tried to hide the disappointment in his face as he nodded in understanding. The first time in five years he asked someone out and he got shot down.

"It's not you," you clarified. "It's bad timing. I just got out of a really long term relationship. Well, I was actually engaged, and I caught him cheating," you explained with a wince, not expecting to bring this up today. "Probably why I was so sensitive about the wedding ring," you said with a half smirk. He nodded quietly and looked down at the ring on his hand, twisting the metal around with the pad of his thumb as you spoke.

"Sounds like we've both been through a tough time," he murmured, and you quietly agreed.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping your coffees and trying to figure out how to end this awkward interaction without making things worse. You were going to lie about having plans so you could leave when he suddenly spoke up.

"No pressure, but, uh, what if we just went on one very casual date?" He looked at you with those soft, brown eyes and you felt your resolve crumbling. "Sounds like we could both use some practice. You're leavin' at the end of the month anyway. Could just be fun, help get us both back out there."

You paused, not expecting that. He had a good point. It's been so long since you've gone on a date with anyone, and it sounded like he was just as rusty. Besides, what else would you be doing with your time over the next three weeks?

"Okay," you agreed softly. He raised his eyebrows in surprise, parting his lips slightly as he straightened up in his chair.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you said with a grin. "Why not?"

Early the next morning, you heard your phone buzz on the nightstand next to your bed. With a groan, you cracked an eye open to look at the time, then reached for your phone.

"7:30? Who the hell..." you grumbled, squinting at the bright screen, your eyes widening when you saw Joel's name. You sat up in bed, fully awake now, and slid the notification over to open the text.

Joel Miller: Morning. Are you free tonight?

You grinned, flicking on your light so you could see better to respond, then you paused. Should you make him wait before replying? Would you look too desperate if you answered right away?

You shrugged, deciding to answer him. It was casual, you both knew it wouldn't go anywhere, so who cares how it looked?

You: Good morning, you're up early! And yes, what did you have in mind?

You chewed your thumb nail as you waited for his answer.

Joel Miller: This is nothing, I've been up since 5. For some reason, clients expect me to be at job sites early. How about ice skating?

You giggled and tapped out a reply.

You: I'd love to!

Joel Miller: Great - I'll pick you up at 7

Realizing you forgot to reply to Sydney the day before, you switched messages and shot her a quick answer before sliding back down under the covers to scroll on your phone.

You resisted the urge as long as you could - a whole fifteen minutes - before you typed Joel's name into Facebook. His name popped up with two mutual friends and you rolled your eyes. Of course your parents were friends with him. Clicking on his name, you scrolled down his page, tapping through photos of him and Sarah that looked out of date. He didn't seem like the type to update social media often, and his page reflected that hunch. He didn't have many pictures so it didn't take long until you scrolled all the way to the end, presumably his first photo from when he joined. It was a grainy picture of him with a huge smile and his arm slung around a woman with dark, curly hair, just like Sarah's.

She was pretty, you couldn't deny that, and you vaguely wondered why they broke up. He made it sound like he didn't want a divorce, and you figured he would have mentioned cheating since you brought it up.

You closed the app. If Joel wanted to tell you, he would.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you made your way downstairs on the hunt for coffee. Pouring yourself a cup from the machine, you burrowed into the couch, wrapping yourself in a blanket as you waited for your coffee to cool down and flipped through the various streaming services your parents subscribed to.

"Hey Buck, you're up early," your dad said as he descended the stairs and headed to the coffee.

"Hey, Dad," you said, taking a sip from your mug and wincing as you burned your tongue.

"What're you up to today? You wanna come to dinner with your mom and me?"

"Actually, I have a date," you told him, bracing for the reaction.

"Whoa-ho! Been here not even a week and you got yourself a date? Don't tell me... Troy?" he asked with a big grin, sitting down at the other end of the couch.

"Ew, no!" you said, scrunching your nose. "It's, um, Joel," you said quickly, taking another sip from your mug.

"Our contractor?" he asked incredulously.

"Yeah, we met at the party," you told him. "Then I ran into him at the mall."

"Ran into who at the mall?" you heard Cassie's voice from down the hall.

"When did you get here?" you asked as she rounded the corner and gazed at your coffee enviously.

"Just now. Who did you see at the mall?"

"Joel," you said, glaring at her. "Got something to tell me about that?"

"Oh, yeah," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. "He was asking about you at the party. I made sure to let him know you were single."

"Yeah, he told me, thanks for the heads up, by the way," you said. "We're going out tonight."

"I didn't realize he was single, I just assumed he was married because he's always got Sarah around," your dad said, beginning to zone out to the movie that was on the TV.

"He's single," was all you said, picking your phone back up.

"He's cute," Cassie said, and you blushed. "I'm glad you said yes, mom and dad already love him, so he'll fit right in."

"I don't even live here. It's a casual thing, we're just hanging out," you told her.

"Yeah, okay," she said, giving you a wink. You rolled your eyes and pinched her as you passed by.

"I'm going to shower, then maybe you can help me pick out something to wear," you told her over your shoulder, walking back upstairs.

Joel arrived at your parents' house promptly at 7, just as he promised. He pulled into the driveway, checking his hair in the review mirror quickly before sliding out of his truck and making his way up the porch. He couldn't remember the last time he felt this nervous as he glanced down a the green flannel he wore, praying he didn't miss a button or a stain. He was with his ex for so long that he could barely remember a time when he was nervous around her.

But with you, he felt the butterflies the moment he saw you at the party. You didn't notice him at first, but he saw you enter the living room and freeze in the doorway, your eyes locked on someone across the room before backing out the way you came, as if you were looking to avoid them. He couldn't catch who it was, having hardly known more than five people in the whole house, but he felt compelled to follow you. To see if you were maybe looking for a husband or boyfriend. But when he saw you alone in the kitchen, staring down at your phone, he couldn't stop himself from saying something to you.

Joel never did things like that. He always kept to himself, very quiet and reserved. He was content with his work during the day and hanging out with Sarah at night.

For the most part, he was happy. It was only at night when the loneliness crept up, when he tucked himself into his big, cold bed and tried his best to fall asleep as fast as he could, so he wouldn't lay there wishing someone who cared for him was just in the bathroom washing up.

Tommy had been encouraging him to get back out there, always offering to watch Sarah if he caught Joel looking a little too long at a waitress or a neighbor. Sarah was old enough to be on her own for a few hours, but he still asked Tommy to stop by, anyway. Maybe part of him wanted his brother to know that he was going on a date, if only so he would stop trying to set him up all the time with women he had no interest in.

Joel reached out to ring the doorbell, cringing when he noticed it was one of those camera doorbells. Paul must have installed it after the house was finished. He heard heavy footsteps on the other side of the door and held his breath, realizing he hadn't thought about your dad's reaction to your date.

Paul swung the door open, greeting Joel with a deep scowl as he leaned up against the doorframe.

"What's up, Joel?" he asked. Joel cleared his throat.

"Hey, Paul. I'm here to pick up your daughter," Joel replied, bracing himself. Paul just stared at him, breathing deeply as he looked Joel up and down. Joel wasn't a small man, but Paul had at least sixty pounds on him. He tended to have an intimidating look until you got to know him.

"Oh, yeah? For what?" Paul asked, clenching his jaw. Joel froze, wondering if there was a reason you didn't tell your parents about tonight, unsure what to say. Finally, Paul's face broke into a huge smile as he began to crack up, doubling over at the waist.

"I'm sorry, Joel, I had to," he wheezed, standing back up and clapping Joel on the shoulder. "Couldn't help myself. Come on in," he said, still laughing as he led Joel down the hall and towards the kitchen.

"Jesus, Paul, scared the shit outta me," Joel admitted, his heart racing as he rubbed his forehead.

"Beer?" Paul asked, and Joel shook his head.

"No thanks, I'm drivin'," he replied, and Paul raised his eyebrows with a nod.

"Good man, passed the first test," he said with a wink as he twisted open a beer for himself. "Hey, uh, in all seriousness, I just wanna talk with you before she comes down."

"Yeah, 'course," Joel replied, leaning up against the counter.

"I ain't sure what she's told you about the asshole she was with before, but he really hurt her. Now, I know it ain't got nothin' to do with you, what's in the past is in the past," he said. "But just keep that in mind, will you? I can't stand seein' my little girl hurt like that again."

Joel nodded solemnly, understanding completely.

"I ain't like that, I'll be respectful, I promise," Joel replied. "Besides, we both know she's goin' back to New York in a few weeks. We're just gettin' to know each other, is all."

"Yeah, she said the same thing to her sister earlier, but then she spent all damn day on the phone, pickin' out an outfit and gettin' herself ready," Paul said with a sigh. "I'm just sayin', be careful with her."

Joel felt a flutter in his chest and tried to hide his smile when he found out you had been thinking about him all day. He was glad he wasn't the only one.

"I hope you weren't waiting long," you told Joel as he backed out of your driveway.

"Not at all," he said with a smirk. "You're worth the wait. You look beautiful." He glanced down again at the light pink sweater with a small designer logo he was unfamiliar with in the corner.

You blushed and bit your lip, quietly thanking him and trying to hide your reaction behind your scarf, but he saw it. He always does.

Now that he knew you were looking forward to this date just as much as he was, he felt a little more confident.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked, giving you a sideways glance as he merged his truck into traffic.

"Yeah, did you?"

"It was alright," he said, slowing the truck down at a stop light. He turned to face you now. "Couldn't wait to see you, though."

You turned a darker shade of pink and he smiled, pleased to see that he could elicit that reaction from you, the same way you do to him.

"So, ice skating?" you said, trying to take the heat off of you. You looked at his hands on the steering wheel, noticing he made sure to take his ring off.

"Yeah," he said, pressing his foot on the gas as the light changed. "Thought you could teach me somethin'."

"Teach you? How do you know if I can even skate?" you asked teasingly.

"Just a hunch. Was I right?" he replied, his mouth turning up into a half smirk. You giggled and he felt his stomach tighten. He needed to hear that again.

"Yeah, you were right," you relented. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and slapped the steering wheel in victory, making you giggle again, and his chest filled with warmth at the sound.

"Where's Sarah tonight?" you asked him as he pulled into a parking spot at the skating rink.

"My brother's watchin' her," he replied, disappointed that you got out of the truck so quickly. He had planned on opening the door for you.

"Does she like to ice skate?" you questioned as he led you inside to the counter to rent your skates.

"Oh, of course she does. But I usually sit it out and just watch her have fun," he said, picking up your rentals and heading over to a bench.

"You should have brought her, I wouldn't have minded."

"We don't have to talk 'bout her, you know," he said quicky, and your fingers froze over your laces.

"Why wouldn't we talk about her? She's your daughter," you asked slowly, straightening back up to look at him.

"No, I know. What I mean is, I know it ain't every woman's fantasy to go out with a single dad and all the baggage that comes with that. So, if you don't wanna talk about her, I get it," he said, casting his eyes down as he focused on tying his laces. You reached out a hand and gently placed it on top of his, immediately making him freeze at your touch.

"She's part of your life, so I want to hear about her. You shouldn't think like that, Joel. It's really not a dealbreaker for most women," you assured him, gently rubbing your thumb over his knuckles, his eyes glued to your hand as he listened. "And if it is, fuck 'em."

His eyes snapped up to yours now, then a slow smile spread across his face.

"Okay," he said softly, and you smiled, pulling your hand back, leaving him wanting more.

"Besides," you said, standing up on your skates as you made your way to the rink. "You have no idea what kind of fantasies I have."

You turned to give him a wink as you effortlessly stepped out onto the ice, holding out your hands encouragingly for him to follow. It was a miracle he was able to move his legs after that comment, but he managed just because he knew he would feel your warm hands on his again.

Joel was a quick study. He was nervous at first, you could tell that he didn't want to embarrass himself, but he did surprisingly good. Especially considering how crowded the ice rink was and how fast people were skating by. After about half an hour, he was able to skate - albeit, slowly - around the rink next to you without any assistance. Part of you wondered if he pretended to need more help than he really did just so it would make you feel good.

"So, anyway, that's basically what I do for work. It's pretty boring," you said with a sigh.

"Not boring. Marketing in New York City sounds like a dream," he replied.

"Yeah, except I work on all the behind the scenes stuff. It's not really as fun as it sounds," you admitted, not missing work in the slightest since you've been back in Texas.

"Well, d'you work with some fun people, at least?"

You paused, considering his question for a moment, before shaking your head with a dry laugh.

"Not really," you said, but he still tried to help you find a reason why you would put up with it.

"You were able to take off almost a whole month, that's pretty great. Not many places'll let you do that, can't be that bad," he offered, and you scoffed.

"It's the time I saved up for the wedding I was supposed to have," you told him sadly, and he groaned.

"I'm knockin' it outta the park tonight, ain't I?" he said, rubbing his face before almost losing his balance. You giggled and he couldn't stop the huge grin that plastered itself across his face.

"It's fine, you didn't know," you said, waving him off. And for the first time, you really didn't mind talking about it. Something about him made it easier.

"What'dya say we get some hot chocolate?" Joel asked, jutting his chin towards the vendor where you first came in.

"Yeah, that sounds great," you replied. Joel turned towards the exit without looking when a teenage boy, who was speed skating around the rink trying to impress a girl, smacked right into him, sending him flying backwards on the ice.

"Joel!" you exclaimed, rushing to his side. He groaned, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, why don't you watch it!" you yelled angrily at the teenager, who had managed to only stumble a bit upon impact.

"Sorry, man," the kid mumbled before taking off.

"I'm gonna kick his ass," you said, about to stand up to go after him, but Joel reached up to grip your arms, holding you in place.

"I'm fine, sweetheart," he said with a chuckle. Sweetheart. Your heart skipped a beat at the term.

"Are you sure?" you asked, your brow furrowed with concern.

"Yeah, just gimme a hand," he said, and you stood to give his arm a firm yank, allowing him to stand.

"Let's get you off the ice," you told him, ushering him carefully to the exit and finding a bench.

"Does your head hurt?" you asked, sitting down next to him. Your fingers reached up to graze the back of his head.

"No," he said breathlessly, staring at you as you continued to study him for any injury. God, you were so beautiful, he couldn't force himself to look away.

"That's good. How about your vision?" you pressed, still so focused on the fall and not seeing the way he was looking at you. But when you finally locked your eyes on his, your breath caught in your throat.

All the laughter and playful yelling surrounding you faded. You couldn't look away from his heated gaze, his deep brown eyes boring into yours so intensely, you almost forgot to blink. He brought his hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, his calloused palm meeting your soft skin. Your lips parted to accommodate your sudden need for more oxygen, and his gaze fell to your mouth.

"Joel," you whispered, and the way his name sounded coming from you was so damn sweet, it almost did him in.

"Yeah?" he whispered back, swallowing the lump in his throat.

"Kiss me."

He didn't need to be told twice.

He leaned forward, eyes sliding shut and slotting his lips against yours, deeply breathing in your scent so he could remember it tomorrow. He was determined to commit every second to memory, knowing that by morning he would be aching for you, aching for this. Against his better judgement, he pressed himself into your lips harder, unsure if he will ever get to feel like this again when you inevitably came to your senses. The idea of this feeling being taken away from him spurred him on, desperate and eager for every second you were willing to give him.

Your hand came up to the back of his neck, holding him against you as his lips massaged yours tenderly. You inched closer to him on the bench so you could tuck yourself into his broad chest. He was so warm and soft and strong that it was making you dizzy. Your fingertips stroked the curls at the base of his neck as you tentatively opened your mouth just enough to suck his lower lip between yours. The quiet noise he made when you did that made your insides clench with need, and against all odds, you felt yourself falling, completely losing yourself in him and the moment.

A startling voice over the loudspeaker announcing that the rink was closing in fifteen minutes finally snapped you out of it. You both pulled back but kept your foreheads pressed together as the world around you slowly melted back into focus. His hand still cupped your face and he lifted his thumb to gently trace your swollen lips.

"I should take you home," he murmured. At first, your stomach flipped, thinking he meant his home, but you realized he wasn't that type and he meant your parents' house.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak, and you sat back reluctantly, breaking away. His hand dropped from your face to the hand in your lap, his thick fingers wrapping around yours for a moment as he collected himself with a deep breath.

Finally, he forced himself to stand, still clutching your hand and helping you up. You glanced down at the floor and smirked.

"We should probably take our skates off," you said, and he chuckled, breaking the tension and sitting back down, his hand reluctantly letting go of yours to undo his laces.

After you turned in your rentals, his hand quickly found yours again, unwilling or unable to let you go as he led you back to his truck, this time making sure to open the car door for you. Thanking him quietly, you jumped up into the cab and watched him round the front of the car, running a hand through his hair and sucking in deep breath.

You grinned and bit your lip as he started the truck, swinging his arm around to grip your headrest and twisting his body to back out of the spot. It took everything in you not to scoot across the seat and tuck yourself into his side.

He let his arm drop loosely on the seat in between you as he drove down the street, one hand on the steering wheel. Your fingers inched forward, sliding your palm underneath his hand, lacing your fingers together. The corners of his mouth tugged into a smile and you drove in a comfortable silence, your hands intertwined the whole time, until he pulled into your driveway and cut the engine.

You sighed as you stared at the darkened house, already missing him and he wasn't even gone yet. He peered over at you, trying to think of a way to prolong the date, but aside from the obvious, which he wasn't going to do just yet, he was coming up empty.

"Lemme walk you up," he said finally, and you nodded, reaching for the handle of the door but he stopped you. You furrowed your brow, confused, until you watched him rush over to open the door, and you grinned, taking his hand so you could slide out of the seat.

You stared at the ground as he led you up the path to the porch, your heart pounding in your ears. You weren't sure what you had been expecting tonight, but it definitely wasn't this feeling. This was so much more.

"Well, thank you for tonight," you said as you reached the door, turning around to look up at him through your lashes. "I had a really good time."

"Yeah, me too," he said, his soft, brown eyes trailing over your face, locking away every little detail. Unable to resist, he stepped forward, his rough hand skimming around to the back of your neck. He tilted your face up, ducking down slightly to meet you halfway and brushed his lips gently over yours.

Your hands flew up to grip the collar of his flannel, keeping him pressed against you as you leaned against the front door. God, for someone who claimed to be rusty, he was a really good kisser. He was gentle and slow and it took your breath away both times. You knew you were getting in over your head, but you couldn't bring yourself to care. All you could think about was him and how badly you wanted more.

Nervously, you opened your mouth and flicked your tongue against his plush lips. He responded by parting his lips and allowing your tongue to dance with his own, his mouth applying more pressure than before as the heat flared between you.

Before you could stop it, a soft moan rumbled from your throat, causing him to pull back, panting slightly as his gaze flickered between your eyes. You gazed up at him, eyes dark and desperate, your fingers still gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly.

You weren't sure what he was searching for, but after a moment he seemed to find it because his mouth came crashing down on yours once again, this time with more yearning and desire. His tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth and in the back of your mind you realized he tasted faintly of mint and you wondered when on earth he popped a mint into his mouth but it didn't matter. Nothing else mattered except the two of you in that moment, each seeking something within the other that you never expected to find.

His chest ached knowing he would have to stop kissing you soon, or else he would never leave. He always considered himself a strong man, after everything he had been through, how could he not? But something about you made him realize he wasn't nearly as strong as he thought. Your lips were so soft compared to his, so sweet and perfect that it made him want to cry because in that moment, he knew he could never let you go.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel x reader #joel x reader smut #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #pedro pascal #the last of us game #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #hallmark christmas movies #hallmark #christmas #joel miller christmas

[oval3000]

Chapter 1

Yandere Psych Patient König x Nurse Reader

Warning: Possesive, Obsession, Death, Gore, Blood, Smut, Toxic behavior, age gap.

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

(This story might suck idk)

-------------------------------------------------------

König felt three of the guards holding him down while one of the other nurses stuck a needle inside his arm. It took a while for it to work on him, but eventually he fell asleep.

The doctor infront of him, pressing his hands on the open wound of the other, unfortunate, nurse's neck trying to control the bleeding.

It was no use, the wound was deep the pressure barely hold the amount of blood she lost. It was honestly foolish of her. What did she think will happen? She kept rolling her eyes whenever König needed something. It was easy, she was sloppy, always leaves things unintended. It was time for a new nurse anyway all the other ones that come and go don't meet up to his standards.

The amount of nurses he has killed was all fun and games to him, but he got bored. Now it was anger that drives it. Before, he would play a game with them, he flirts to get them near him and it works until he chokes them with one hand or slits their throats with anything he can get his hands on or just simply slamming their heads to the wall. It was funny seeing them put up foam in the walls inside his room, it wasn't too long for them to realize it won't do anything when he smashed a guards head onto the floor and quickly stomped on it like it was nothing.

Bashing their heads to anything it's what got him here in the first place. Being in the military is something not everything can stand. For König it became a playground. Killing his enemies however he wanted. Breaking their heads, their necks, arms, legs, ankles, practically anything.

The amount of meetings the staff has to attend to acknowledge Königs behavior and how it's partially the staff's fault for being so careless. It was hilarious for him honestly. Having the entire building walking on egg shells around him. They don't know how to tame him, how to tame a monster who kills someone as if they are a cockroach

The only person that could possible get through his head is his psychiatrist. However his attempts to clear him backfires when König kills someone. At times the doctor is to frustrated that he gave up and he did, so he got a new psychiatrist.

He finds his new psychiatrist annoying. She puts other people's sceneries to get into his head to see what is wrong with him. Telling him that his suffering in the military is similar to a women going through a divorce. König could care less about her personal life or anyones.

She got up a left after his session while the guards took him to his room. The psychiatrist told the staff to give König his medication, but they all took a step back. She ask for his nurse, but they all stood quiet until one spoke up and said that König doesn't have a nurse, his last nurse died and it has been hard for them to find a new one.

She quickly made her way to the administrator's office and plead for a new nurse. The administrator told her no so she spread her legs and he quickly said yes. After all she didn't want to be the next victim of his so a nurse should do.

Then you came along. Sweet and innocent you. You took the job when you saw the job opening on their website and it was perfect timing. You just moved here and needed a job asap. After you graduated you worked at a hospital for a year until the bills and rent went up and the pay stayed low so when you found out that a facility needed a new nurse with triple the pay, you took it.

You waved at the receptionist hello while clutching the strap of your crossbody bag. "Hello, I'm looking for the administrator, I'm (Y/n). I'm the new Rn"

"Oh miss (Y/n)." He gave you a hesitant smile which caught you off guard, but you didn't think too much. I mean the receptionist has seen so many new nurses come in go fast, but you didn't need to know that, do you? "The administrator is waiting for you in his office."

"Okay thank you." You signal some confusion to the receptionist. "Um?"

"It's down to your right, left office." He said hand signaling the directions.

You gave him a smile and quickly headed to the office by giving a few knocks until you heard a male voice telling you to come in.

The men stood, shook your hand and told you that a fellow nurse was going to give you a rundown about how things work.

You followed the nurse has he took you to the floor you'll be working on. This will definitely be different then working at a hospital. He told you where the nurses station is and the name of the doctors that come to see the patients aswell as the patients themselves. However, your only worry is one patient in particular. König.

He showed you where his room. "This is where he stays. Now, you have to be careful with him. Can't turn your back on him. Don't leave anything near him and don't be near him in general."

'Don't be near him. How will you give his medication if you can't be near him'

"If you feel like your in danger, don't hesitate to scream for help, besides the door will always be open when you go in and two guards have to be with you at all times if you go inside his room. Don't make small talk to him, don't give him anything unless it has been confirmed with the heard nurse here. Which is me okay."

You nodded in understanding of the situation. He gently grabbed your arm and pulled you to a place away from everyone else. "Look I shouldn't be telling you this, but I feel like you deserve to know. But you can't tell anyone I told you this, okay."

"Okay." You responded.

"The last few nurses that attended him always ended up getting killed by him. He is the reason why we always need a new nurse."

'So that's why the pay is higher'

"If you want to quit I don't blame you, but you should know what you're getting yourself into." He whispered to you.

Are you scared? I mean the fact that you can die is. Either stay and get paid or go back and be in debt, which one is better? "Thank you," you looked at his tag, "Jacob"

"No problem. Oh and Dr. Smith is his psychiatrist so whatever she tells you, you do. She can be a bitch sometimes, but she only comes in on Tuesdays and Thursdays or if there is a tragic emergency."

You gave him one last okay before he went back to his computer. You looked around and saw how many guards there are in the floor. More guards than nurses.

You saw docotrs leaving the patients rooms, you strolled around getting to know the facility. You went to the locker room and quickly placed your bag inside while fixing your scrubs and your hair. You head your way the nurse's station ready to do what you need to do. They started you off by you giving medication and taking vitals to some patients, just for you to get the hang of it as well as report anything back to their medical files and re-learn how to work the system. Jacob gave you a little index card with the information you need about König. Mainly how to give his medication. As for needles, a guard has to hold him down.

"(Y/n)" Jacob called for in the desk area. You went up to him. "This will be your work space, you are in charge of these patients, which includes König." He showed you the list of patients which is not a few compared to others. "The biggest one is König, which is why you don't have a much. All their routines are the same. Sometimes the patient will call out for you."

"How?" Not like they have a control to call for assistance.

"A guard will come and tell you. Everything else is pretty straight forward all of their medical history is in their charts aswell as their medication and their dose. They all share the same doctor who comes by every few months, unless they need medical attention. You get the gist right?"

"Yes." You said staring at the computer screen.

"Good. All the medical supplies are back here." He pointed to the big beige cabinet that is behind you. "And obviously the patients medication are in their and here are the keys." You looked at what the computer was placed, a big drawer each with a key hole and a sticker of the patients name on each one. "If you have any question, feel free to ask me."

You nodded and did what you are paid to do. You quickly got the hang of things. Lunch came in quick as you saw the kitchen staff making their way to the dining room area. The guards went in took all patients to the area ready for them to eat. They two went in and brought out König. He was wearing the usual white t-shirt with the white sweatpants. Part of his hair was tied back into a low ponytail while the rest hanged loosely to his face. He doesn't have long hair, but not short either. He turned his head towards you. You can see his eyes as they stared at you.

König didn't smile, didn't frown. He was intrigued.

You looked back into the computer and quickly pulled up his file. Ex- Military, age to be around 40. Austrian. Can speak German. Suffers from severe social anxiety. Blood type AB. Activities in the facility- arts and crafts. Suffered from multiple injuries during his deployment. History of broken arm, leg, stab wounds.

'Ex- Military. No wonder.'

After lunch it was time to give them their meds. You went to do your round, checking their vitals and giving them their medication. You made your way towards König's room. The two guards opened the door widley while one entered in. König saw you as he sat on his bed legs slightly spread open while his triceps rested on his things. His head hanged low but peaked up when you entered.

You took out the aneroid Sphygmomanometer. You made your way towards him. Already doing something they warned you about. His eye sight followed your figure. You were too nervous to look at his face. If you don't look at him then nothing bad will happen. König stared at you as you place opened the cuff and wanting to place it on his bicep. You were honestly doubting that the cuff was going to fit around his bicep, compared to yours it was like comparing a mountain vs a sand castle.

He moved his bicep slightly up for you too take a better look. The guards gave eachother looks as if he never done this before. You wrapped the cuff around his bicep, not wrapping too tight. You felt bicep, they're hard. Hard as a rock. You pressed on the little latex bulb, giving it a few squeeze while checking the gaudge. When you got the results, you wrote it down quickly.

As for König, he didn't do anything, he just watched. He watched as you came near him. To check his tempt, his heart rate. He saw you bringing the little Dixie cup with his medication. He felt the guards stiffen knowing this is the part where he will either snap your neck or crack your skull open with ease.

You placed the cup on to the little table you have to take with you with all the supplies you need and rolled it near him. Your guess is that he snaps when someone wants to drug him. Ex- Military, you won't be surprised he they forced him to take some sort of drugs while fighting off his enemies. "It's okay. This one is to calm your nerves, I know they can hard to deal with. Trust me I know. I'll give you the one that will help you sleep at night so you can't get comfortable."

He took the cup and threw the pill inside his mouth, quickly swallowing it. The little cup is so tiny compared to his hands you couldn't even see the cup. He placed the cup back onto the table. "Thank you." You said to him while walking out of his room. As soon as you heard the guards shutting the door you felt the nervousness leaving your body.

König laid back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He felt a smile on his face.

He haven't felt this way in a long time. Quite frankly never.

You are definitely getting in his interest.

#yandere könig #cod mw2 #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #fanfic #konig #könig cod #könig x reader #könig #könig x y/n

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter ten ⭐︎ Weigh down on me, stay 'til morning

Warnings: slight angst, jealousy, lots of jealousy (from both sides), insecurities, mentions of unrequited love, alcohol and weed consumption

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: You agreed to Steve's deal, and now all that you do, is wait by the phone... for his call.

Word count: 10k+

Author's note: Things are getting a little more serious now, you can expect a lot of jealousy in this chapter, and in the next two. @hellfire--cult and I came up with some gooood ideas, so enjoy hehe

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Your body feels warm, aching in some places, but it’s not an unpleasant feeling, you welcome it, knowing what or who caused it. You smell his shampoo, his body wash on the pillow your head lies on, you smell his cologne, the one that always makes your heart flutter. 

When you slowly open your eyes, you’re not surprised to find him facing away from you, you're met by his sun kissed back. 

You blink, still waking up. 

You eye the moles on his skin, the scars on his back from where the bats had dragged him away. You wish to touch them, to trace them with your fingertips, to kiss his skin and bless him with better memories, but you can’t. And it’s not like memories of you and your touches would bless him, in any way. 

The thing between you, his feelings, his actions are purely driven by lust, nothing more, nothing less. You won’t raise your hopes up, this is bad enough as it is. 

What would your teen self think if she saw you now? 

What would she say to you if she saw you lying in Steve Harrington’s bed? 

The version of you now, is happy, content with what she has, even if she doesn’t actually have him. 

But what matters now? Nothing. Just him, just you and him. That’s all that matters now, that’s all that will matter, for now. 

Your mind wants to take you back to all those dark places you have been in, to all the feelings you have experienced since Steve had taken a hold of your heart. – Jealousy, rejection, heartache and pain.

And his words from the night before come back to haunt you. 

“I see whoever I want and you do… the same.”

You can’t lie to yourself, it did sting a little, it did make your stomach churn, it did make you feel sick to think of him with someone else after being with you, while being with you. 

It also hurt to wake up without him, it hurt all day to think that all he did was use you, that he took what he wanted and left. – You never expected the explanation he gave you last night, you also didn’t expect the softness of his hands, the gentle touches and kisses as he told you what really happened. Your chest still aches with guilt for treating him the way you did last night, but you were driven by sadness and you can’t help but feel that he did deserve it… a little. 

With a sigh, you turn away from him, pushing the shared blanket off your body, you place your feet on the ground and take a look around his room. 

You grip the sheets beneath you, looking at all the items in his room before you look over your shoulder, back at him, back at the pillow you just slept on. 

How many girls have occupied this space before? 

How many girls has he touched the way he touched you? 

How many girls have been kissed by him the same way you’ve been?

You had never kissed anyone the way you kissed him. 

You also never touched anyone the same way you touched him. 

He is so special to you, but you aren’t to him.

And you never will be. 

You grow annoyed with yourself, shouldn’t you be happy? Shouldn’t you be in complete and utter bliss, knowing that he wants you enough to do this? 

You close your eyes, and you take a deep breath before you push yourself off the bed. 

You shut out your negative thoughts, letting your curiosity in. You tiptoe across his room and stop in front of his bookshelf – that’s filled with more comics and movies than books. A polaroid camera sitting on the shelf, next to a fake plant. Of course, he got himself a fake plant. 

The dresser next to the window is decorated with a big lamp and a few pictures that spark your interest. You sneak a glance at him to find him still sound asleep. 

You’re not surprised to find pictures of your friends on his dresser, of the teens, of Eddie and Robin, of the whole group. None of you, not even on the group pictures that Jonathan keeps taking whenever you all hang out – that might be your own fault though, you never felt comfortable enough to join the group pictures, you still don’t consider yourself a part of it, even now. 

But you can’t help but wonder, would he have cut out the parts of you if you had been on those pictures? 

You close your eyes again, taking a deep breath as you’re willing yourself to calm down, to stop overthinking, to stop being so negative when what you got is now finally in reach. 

You get to be with him, you get to touch him, you get to feel his lips on your skin, his hands on your body, him. And even when there isn’t any intimacy, even when there aren’t any feelings on his side, you can just pretend, for those little moments, you can pretend. 

You open your eyes again, and look around for your clothes that Steve took from your hands last night after you changed into one of his shirts. You find them neatly folded on the chair by his desk, your denim jacket thrown over the back. 

It’s time to go home, even when you’d like to stay longer. 

You make your way over to your clothes, you stand with your back to him as you take his shirt off, standing in his room in nothing but your panties for a moment. You fold his shirt and place it on his desk, already missing the smell of it and the way it felt to wear something of his. 

You don’t even feel his eyes on you as you start putting your clothes on, starting with your bra before you reach for your skirt, you bend down as you put it on, zipping it shut on the side. 

Steve is now lying on his back, his right arm behind his head as he watches you, feeling a little disappointed that you are getting dressed and ready to go home. 

He watches, and stares at you for as long as he can before you notice him. 

He takes in every little scar on your soft skin, the way your hair falls down your shoulders, the way your skin is glowing beneath the stream of light that shines through the curtains. 

The moment your top is on and you bend down to put your shoes on, Steve clears his throat. 

“Leaving so soon?” Steve’s groggy voice sounds through the silent room. 

You freeze at the sound of his voice, the rough noise causing shivers to run down your spine. 

Who would’ve thought that you’d ever get to hear Steve Harrington’s morning voice?

You close your eyes as you knit your eyebrows together. You shouldn’t have waited so long to leave. Taking a deep breath, you open your eyes again, and straighten your back as you finish tying the laces of your converse. You plaster a smile on your face before you turn around to face him. 

“Figured our little deal doesn’t include coffee and breakfast,” you joke, reaching for your jacket. 

Steve’s eyes move up and down your body, before they settle on your neck where the marks on your skin are perfectly visible to him. You hate the way your heart flutters at such a small action of his. 

“Says who?” 

You try not to stare at him, but it’s hard not to when he looks this good. A tired look in his features, hair all messy, hairy chest on full display. You dig your nails into your denim jacket as your eyes move to his neck, the scar around it always dragging you into a trance like state, as you catch yourself daydreaming about peppering his skin with kisses.

“I dunno,” you shrug, tearing your eyes away from his body and meeting his eyes instead, “I think that’s girlfriend privilege.” 

He cracks a smile at your words, eyes flashing with amusement, “didn’t know Eddie was my girlfriend.” 

A laugh falls from your lips as you roll your eyes and shake your head. 

Eddie stayed over at his place countless of times, ever since those two have gotten closer, ‘sleepovers’ have become a regular thing, especially after a long night of smoking weed and drinking beers in Steve’s backyard. Usually, Eddie just passes out on the couch though, and Steve ends up throwing a random blanket over him. 

Just like at your house, Eddie raids Steve’s fridge and snack drawers, all the damn time.

“Well, your girlfriend might be upset if he finds out that you fucked his best friend, last night,” you joke only to grow flustered a few seconds after those words leave your lips. 

But, Steve smirks at you, smugness flickering in his eyes. 

“Huh,” he pushes himself up on his elbows, running his fingers through his hair, “guess it’s gonna be our dirty little secret then,” he winks. 

Dirty little secret. 

Yeah, that’s all it will ever be. 

That’s all you will ever be. 

A dirty little secret. 

You gulp, swallowing down the hurt as you nod at his words. 

“Yeah…” You scratch the back of your neck before you point to his door, “I’m uh… I’m gonna go.” 

His smile falls a little, eyes growing serious as he sits up, the blanket now only covering his lower half. 

“I can drive you home.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s nice out, I’m just gonna take a walk, maybe stop by the coffee shop or something.” 

He nods, still eying you, “a-and are you feeling okay?” 

You raise your brows at him, “hmm?”

“I-I mean,” he stutters, awkwardly looking around the room before his eyes meet yours again, “it’s just… the information leaflet said that it can cause some side effects, the Plan B thing… I mean. Nausea, dizziness, upset stomach,” he starts listing the things, counting them down with his fingers as his cheeks flush red. 

Your eyes soften, heart fluttering at his concern. You’re even a little taken aback by how much he cares but then again, it might just be the guilt he feels, knowing that he’s partly at fault for this in the first place.

“N-No, I’m okay,” you assure him, watching the way the tension in his shoulders disappears. “I’m feeling fine so far.” 

He nods, “okay, good.” 

“Yeah, so… I uh…” You trail off, lifting your hand to point at the door again, watching him nod again. You turn on your heel and walk away, not knowing when you will see him again. 

You settled on this thing between you, you set up the rules, but what you didn’t talk about was how this whole thing will actually play out. 

Just as you open the door, his voice makes you halt in your tracks, you turn your head to look back at him, giving him a questioning look. 

“Hey Blondie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Are we gonna… hang out later?” 

Hang out. 

You almost want to giggle. 

You tap your nails against the door, eying the smug, yet flustered look on his face as he looks at you expectedly. 

“Yeah,” you nod. “You can call me.”

He tilts his head to the side, licking his lips, “mhm, or you can call me,” he smirks, almost mockingly. 

“Sure.” 

Neither of you called. 

In fact, there is nothing but radio silence between the two of you, the moment you leave his house.

And, it frustrates you to no end, because all you want to do is to see him, to feel him again, but all you get is absolutely nothing. And, it only makes you more insecure, it only fills you with more self doubt. 

If he wanted you, he would’ve called. 

Right? 

You thought he’d call by Monday night, he didn’t. 

You spent all Tuesday, waiting for the phone to ring, but it never did. 

You could’ve called too, he even told you to, but for some reason, you thought that it was just another way to tease you, you heard the mocking tone in his voice, you saw the smirk he looked at you with. 

And yet, you picked up the phone a few times with the intention to just call him and ask him to come over but you slammed the receiver back into place every single time. It didn’t feel right to make the first move, every time you tried to, rejection followed. And even though he was the one who offered you the deal, you still couldn’t bring yourself to make a first move, no matter what had already happened between you both. 

It’s only Wednesday now, it’s only been two days since you had last seen him, and yet it feels like you haven’t seen him in weeks. 

It makes you frustrated and sad at the same time, but unlike yesterday, you can’t mop around in your bedroom all day, waiting by the phone like some lovesick teenager. 

And you can’t show your sadness either, you can’t let your best friend know what kind of war you’re fighting in your head. 

Steve is your secret and you are his. 

His dirty little secret. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” Eddie asks as he’s scarving down the burgers and fries he brought from the diner, his new friend works at. He’s been spending a lot of time there, lately. 

You push around the fries on your plate, the cheeseburger only halfway eaten. 

“I’m just a slow eater,” you shrug, dipping a fry into the ketchup before you take a bite. 

Eddie’s brown eyes flash with amusement, “mhm, except for when you’re high.” 

“That’s another version of me, Eds.” 

“Uh huh,” he chuckles, taking another bite of his burger, the bite being large enough to make half of it disappear. 

You chuckle, flipping your hair over your shoulder, you place your elbow on the kitchen table, continuing to eat your fries. You look out the window, eying the gray clouds in the sky and the wind in the trees, a storm is nearing and it’s making your stomach churn and your skin crawl. 

You have always hated storms, the heavy wind that howls through the night, the strong rain that hits the windows harshly, thunder that makes you flinch after every crash and the lightning has always made you feel uneasy. 

You hated being left alone in this house during thunderstorms, but your parents were gone, and your sister was rarely ever around at nights, so you had to find ways to calm yourself down, usually you did it by putting on headphones and turning the volume up high enough to drown out the noises of the storm outside, it helped. Music always helped. 

But the night in the Upside Down changed everything, which is ironic, you always thought that an extreme situation would have killed your fear, but it didn’t, it only worsened it, and now not even music helps anymore. 

“Are you gonna stay for a while?” 

Eddie raises his brows as he reaches for his drink, eying your face. 

You know he can read you, you know that he can see right through you. He is one of the only ones who can – and it scares you. Not because you don’t want him to know about your fears or your struggles, there is really nothing that you hide from him at this point… Nothing but that one thing, that one thing that no one can know about, not even Eddie. 

“Yeah, I thought we could watch a movie, I brought some,” he points in the direction of the hallway, where he left some tapes on the counter. 

You nearly sigh out loud, feeling relieved. 

You wouldn’t want to be alone right now. 

Thunder crashes in the distance, not loud enough to make you flinch, but enough to fill you with dread. 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you smile before you look out the window again, continuing to watch the clouds move, missing the way his eyes widen and the way he nearly chokes on his soda as he stares at your neck, at the marks you forgot to cover up before he came over. 

“What the hell!” 

The volume of his voice makes you flinch harder than the loud thunder that just crashed before the yell escaped his lips. You look back at him, bewildered, only to find him staring at your neck, already jumping from his seat and rounding the table to get to you. 

You’re confused for a moment, staring at him with a frown, but when he stops in front of you, and he lifts your hair up to take a closer look at your neck, at the hickeys Steve had left, you nearly gasp yourself. 

How could you have been so stupid? 

How could you forget to cover them up?

Eddie stares at them for a moment, for a really long moment, before his confused eyes meet yours, “who gave these to you!?” 

You can’t give him the truth, Steve would certainly break things off with you if you did – if he hasn’t already. 

Blood rushes to your cheek the longer your best friend stares at you, waiting for an explanation. 

“I uh… I had a uh… booty call?” 

This would normally be the moment, where he’d laugh in your face, knowing that this is a lie. But he is too surprised to look deeper into your eyes. 

“This is the first time I know you actually had sex, and you didn’t plan to tell me!?” He lets go of your hair, stepping back and throwing his arms up. 

“It’s nothing special!” You lie, your eyes following him as he returns back to his seat, “h-he was just, he’s a guy that’s here because of a friend! I met him once at one of my sister's college parties…” 

He is still in shock, his eyes are still glued to your neck. 

“What’s his name?”

You swallow, placing your hands into your lap, you dig your nails into your palms, taking deep breaths as you try to appear calm. 

“Why do you care, you don’t know him.”

“Exactly,” he smirks, crossing his arms over his chest, “so what’s the issue in telling me?”

He is now looking at your flustered face, and you are glad that he can’t actually read your mind, or else you’d be screwed as you’re trying to figure out a name to give him. 

“...Chandler…”

His eyes grow wide, smirk falling a bit. He uncrosses his arms, reaching for his drink again as he sighs, “now I understand why you didn’t want to tell me his name.”

You clear your throat, the tension in your body dissolving a little. 

“Uh huh…”

“So how was it?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows at you. 

It was… perfect. 

Yeah, your nights with Steve were the best moments of your life. He made you feel things you have never felt before. He made you feel alive yet like you existed in some other world, a better place. 

As you look into your best friend's eyes, you realize that now is the perfect opportunity to let it all out, to tell him things that you’ve been wanting to get off your shoulders, because maybe then, this will get easier for you. Maybe. 

So you open your mouth and you start talking, without mentioning Steve’s name or anything else that could give you and him away. 

You talk and you talk, and you get carried away, and yet, nothing eases the ache in your stomach or the one in your chest. 

Just nothing. 

If anything, talking about it makes it all only worse because it somehow strengthens every memory of him.

And, your memories are a blessing and a curse at the same time, they take you back to his kisses, to his lips that sucked marks on your skin, they remind you of how it felt to feel him inside of you, to hear him moaning your name, to feel him holding you close, to know that he felt good because of you. 

But then, they also take you back to an unpleasant memory, and you can’t even stop yourself from thinking about it, not even as you sit before Eddie, not even as you both make your way into the living room to watch the movies he picked out, and surprisingly, not even the storm can stop the thoughts in your head.

“I see whoever I want and you do… the same.” 

His words keep echoing in your mind, and you can’t help but wonder, is he already seeing someone else? 

Is he touching someone else? 

Is he kissing someone else? 

Is he feeling good because of someone else? 

Is he moaning someone else’s name as he had long forgotten about you? 

Is that the reason why he never called? 

He wouldn’t, would he? It’s only been two days. 

He wouldn’t sleep with someone else… not so soon, at least, right?

Days and sleepless nights haunt you, just like the questions that keep piling up inside your troubled mind, it makes you feel restless. 

There is nothing but Steve on your mind and it’s nothing new, but it feels different now after what had happened between you and him. 

You long for him, your body yearns for him but you stay away, because maybe this is what he wants, days have passed and he didn’t call or come to see you, surely it must be what he wants, maybe he changed his mind about the deal, about you. 

You’re proven wrong when you find yourself at Eddie’s pool ‘party’ on Friday afternoon, five days after you had walked out of Steve’s house. 

The sun is shining, not a single cloud in sight, not a single trace of the storm that had crashed over the town only two days back. 

The heat is beating down on your skin, but it’s a pleasant feeling as you lie on one of the pool loungers between Nancy and Max. Your sunglasses perched on your nose, hair falling down your shoulders as you keep adjusting it every few seconds or so, hoping that no one else will see the marks Steve left behind, you had done your best to cover them with makeup but that didn’t stick to your skin long enough, one jump into the pool and the layer was gone. 

His eyes are glued on you and your pink bikini, and you can’t help but feel smug, despite all the insecurities that have lingered all week. You keep biting back your smirk whenever you catch him staring, and you watch how his cheeks flush red and he grows flustered before he hides it with his own smirk and a cocky look on his face. 

You’ve greeted each other the way you always do, with suggestive smiles and cryptic words that only you two understand the meaning behind. 

You haven’t talked much since he came though, but you keep brushing past each other, eying one another with that one look in your eyes when your hands reach out to touch each other, even if only for a short second. 

Now you keep glancing at him, waiting for him to finally take his stupid white shirt off, but he seems content, standing in the shadows with a beer in his hand as he chats with Eddie.

“I missed this,” Nancy says, “tanning and not worrying about a single thing.”

You tear your eyes away from Steve and turn to look at her. Nancy is wearing a blue swimsuit, her curls in a messy bun, white framed sunglasses protecting her eyes from the scorching sun. You can’t help but stare at her, eying the girl that you once were so jealous of. 

Nancy is beautiful, effortlessly so. She’s got those pretty doe eyes and the luscious curls that frame her face so perfectly. She’s a pretty sight to look at – you’re surprised to see that Steve’s eyes aren’t glued on her. 

But her beauty was never the reason for your jealousy. 

“Yeah, me too,” you murmur as you reach for the cocktail Eddie had made for you. 

“I don’t know how you can enjoy it,” Max mumbles beside you, and you can’t help but chuckle, you’ve been waiting for her to start complaining. “I’m gonna look like a tomato if I keep sitting out here.” 

You push your sunglasses up into your hair, watching as she gets up from the lounger. 

You chuckle at her. 

“I’m jumping into the water, I’m sick of the sun.” 

She storms off, flipping her red hair over her shoulder before she jumps into the pool, joining Lucas, Mike and Will. 

You sip on your cocktail, eyes moving back to Steve, just in time to see him finally taking his shirt off. He throws it over one of the chairs by the table, and lifts his hand up to run it through his hair, flexing his bicep as he turns his body to you as he steps into the sun. 

You dig your teeth into the straw as you let your eyes roam his body. The hair on his chest, the scars on his sides, the scar around his neck, all looking so beautiful under the light. You see the smirk on his lips when he catches you ogling him, and you don’t even bother to hide it, to look away and play it cool. 

But your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull and you almost choke on the sip you just took when Eddie’s eyes grow comically wide as he takes a look at Steve’s back. Your best friend’s jaw drops before a gasp falls from his lips. 

You don’t need to think twice about what’s gotten him this shocked, you left marks on Steve, just like he left some on you – but yours are more aggressive. 

While it’s only hickeys on your skin, it’s scratch marks on his. 

Your heart jumps a little when you realize that Eddie could easily put two and two together and figure out that you didn’t sleep with Chandler or that Steve didn’t fuck Heidi – that they weren’t the ones who left marks on yours and his skin.

But before Eddie can even ask him any questions, he’s suddenly hit with a forceful stream of water coming from Dustin’s water gun. A different kind of gasp tears from his lips, and his face flashes with confusion before a deadpan expression takes over as he looks down at himself, water now dripping from his face, hair and his shoulders. 

He looks around, searching for the culprit when he finds Dustin, hiding behind one of the bushes. 

“You little shit!” He yells as he puts his beer on the table, he grabs one of the water guns, filling it up with water before he runs towards Dustin, who instantly jumps away from the bushes and runs into the opposite direction. 

Steve shakes his head at them, watching them run around in the backyard, almost running into El, Robin and Vickie, who are in the middle of a little photo shoot with poor Jonathan – who hates being out in the sun, especially for this long. 

You are still playing with your straw as you eye the male who stole your heart and your mind. 

“Can I ask you something?” Nancy asks as she sits up, reaching for her own cocktail before she turns to face you, forcing you to look away from her ex boyfriend. 

“Yeah, sure, what’s up?” 

With a small smile on her face, she tilts her head to the side as she looks at you. You notice how red her cheeks have gotten, but you don’t know whether it’s because of the sun or the question she is about to ask. 

She looks down, eyeing your necklace and the pink bikini top that she complimented before. 

You stare at her curiously. 

You and Nancy aren’t the closest, you get along, you talk whenever you see each other, there is never any awkwardness between the two of you, but still, you aren’t the closest. 

“I know we haven’t talked much, but um… I was wondering– cause… I love Robin, seriously but– okay um…” she stutters, closing her eyes for a moment as she shakes her head before she opens her eyes again and looks back up, “I was gonna ask if you would like to go shopping with me?” 

You're stunned. 

With widened eyes, you stare at her, taking in the sight of her nervous face, cheeks growing redder when she’s met by your silence. 

“Why me?” 

“Like I said… I love Robin but her style… she always complains it's too girly when I show her something I want to buy,” she rolls her eyes as a smile tugs at her lips, “and you… you always look good, I love your skirts and dresses.”

Your eyes soften, blood rushes to your cheeks at her compliment. 

You and Nancy have something in common, it was the reason why you started talking in the first place, after she find out who Chrissy was to you, she approached you, she offered you her condolences – she had a deep understanding in what it’s like to lose a close friend, she lost hers too. 

You both lost that one girl friend. 

“Thanks, Nancy. I’d love to go shopping with you.”

You watch the way her eyes light up, and you can’t help but feel surprised that someone like her feels excitement because of someone like you. 

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you say as a smile appears on your face. 

“Cool,” she smiles at you, unable to hide the giddiness in her voice. 

“I’m sorry to interrupt you ladies, but would you like me to take a picture of you, before I drop the camera and never pick it up again today?” Jonathan asks as he stops in front of the two of you, with cheeks glowing red, thanks to the sun, and an exhausted look on his face, thanks to the three girls that forced him to be their photographer for the past hour or so. 

Nancy giggles at her boyfriend. 

“Sure, let's take a pic!” 

First she wants to go shopping with you, and now she wants to take pictures with you. You can’t lie to yourself and act like it doesn’t touch your heart a little. 

You hide your eyes behind the sunglasses again, not wanting to give away just how surprised you are by all of this. 

You lean closer to her, holding your drink up a little as you smile into the camera – not feeling his eyes on you. 

Steve is unaware of the smile that tugs at his lips as he watches you pose and smile next to Nancy, a giggle falling from your lips when Nancy whispers something to you. You lean even closer, wrapping your arm around the other girl as you grin into the camera. 

Something bubbles in Steve’s chest, a feeling he can’t make out, but suddenly, he wishes that he was the one next to you, that he could be the one taking a picture with you. 

He could. He could be the one, if he asked for it. 

But how would that make him look? 

What would you think of that? 

You would certainly laugh at that and tease him, right? 

He sighs and looks away from you when you’re done taking pictures, only to find Lucas staring at him, a smug look on his face as he wiggles his brows at him. 

Steve clenches his jaw, rolling his eyes at the boy, he lifts his hand, pointing at him, “don’t even.” 

Lucas smirks, swimming closer to the edge of the pool, “I didn’t even say anything.” 

“Uh huh.” 

Steve doesn’t even hear the footsteps behind him, focused on the boy in front of him. 

“It’s so cute how you keep checking out your girlfriend,” Lucas giggles. 

Steve runs his hand down his face, groaning, “she’s not my… listen you little shit–”

“God,” Dustin appears next to him, no water gun in his hand any longer, breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath after running around the backyard. 

Steve turns his head to look at him, but Dustin’s eyes are glued on Nancy, thinking that she was the one he was checking out. 

 He’s got it all wrong, so so wrong. 

“Gotta let her go, man. I don’t know how many times–” 

Steve rolls his eyes, he takes a step back and places his hands on Dustin’s back, shoving him into the pool. 

He shrieks loudly before he goes down, the water splashes around him, tearing laughs out of Steve, Lucas and Max when the teen resurfaces, gasping and glaring at him. He grabs his cap that is now floating around in the water. 

“My cap! You got it wet!” He shrieks again. 

Max laughs at him, “you’re so dramatic, nerd.” 

Steve is laughing, enjoying the shocked expression on Dustin’s face, when he feels a soft hand on his shoulder. 

“Hi Stevie,” you purr into his ear. 

Shivers run down his spine, an exciting feeling bubbling in his stomach as he turns around to face you, a smirk already tugging at his lips when his eyes meet yours. 

You look at him innocently, tilting your head to the side as you flash him a smile. 

“Hi blondi–”

You mimic his action, and push him into the water the way he did to Dustin. 

“Hah!” Dustin laughs in triumph, pointing at Steve with a smug look on his face before he looks at you, “thank you, you’re much cooler!” 

“Told you she is,” Max shrugs at him, making you laugh. 

Mike and Will laugh at your action. 

Steve flips his hair, turning to face you with a groan that quickly turns into a wince as he holds his hand in front of his left eye, scrunching his nose up in pain. 

Your smile quickly falls and you take a step closer as he starts swimming back to the edge. 

“Shit!” He curses, still holding his hand up, “chlorine got way into my fucking eye!”

You bend down as he swims closer, concern flashes in your eyes, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the smug basketball player next to Dustin, or Will who always watches closely when you’re around Steve.

“Fuck, Lego head…” you murmur as you reach your hand out to cup his cheek, “let me see–”

Suddenly, Steve lunges forward, using the hand that just hid his eye to grab yours, he opens both eyes and greets you with a smirk before he pulls you into the water. 

Of course you fell for it. 

You shut your eyes and hold your breath before your body hits the cold. The water envelopes your whole body, shocking it a little after spending the past few hours lying under the sun. 

You swim back up, only to be met by a laughing Steve who stares at you smugly. 

The teens are laughing behind you. 

“Ha ha…” You splash some water at the male in front of you, making him laugh even harder. 

“Come on, Blondie,” Steve chuckles, biting his lip as he swims closer to you, “that was fair.” 

You swim back, putting some distance between you both while he tries to close it, playing a dangerous game out here, in front of everyone to see. 

Your stomach flutters when his eyes roam the parts that aren’t hidden beneath the water. A lust filled look flashing in his hazel eyes as he continues staring at you like some hungry animal. 

God, you can’t do this, not here, not now. 

You turn away from Steve, stretching your arms out beneath the water, and trying to swim away from him, away from the teens who aren’t even looking between the two of you anymore, more focused on Argyle who’s yelling at them to come out of the water to play soccer.

You swim to the other side of the pool and Steve follows, he’s not even bothered by all the eyes that could follow, though he still looks around to make sure that no one’s watching. 

You enjoy the coldness of the water, desperately needing it after being under the weight of his eyes. Not even the sun could fill you with such warmth that his looks fill you with. 

You stop swimming when you feel the ground beneath you again. Sighing as you reach your hands out to hold onto the edges when you suddenly feel his hand on your butt. 

You gasp in surprise, blood rushing to your face as your eyes widen. 

He presses his chest against your back, chuckling at the gasp that fell from your lips. He squeezes your ass roughly. 

“Steve!” You nearly shriek, looking around in panic. 

Nancy and Jonathan are now sitting in the shadows, sitting close to each other as they talk. 

The teens are now playing soccer with Argyle. 

Robin and Vickie now cozied up on the pool loungers as they listen to Eddie, who’s telling them a story, dramatically as it seems, he keeps throwing his arms up. 

“Relax,” He whispers into your ear, letting his fingers dig into your skin one more time before he hooks his finger around the string on your bottoms, fingers tracing the bow that you tied before he snaps the material back against your skin, “no one’s watching,” he says so confidently, though he missed one pair of eyes when he looked around at your friends. 

He swims around you so he can see your flustered face, he smirks at you as he leans his back against the wall, eying you up and down. 

You blink, trying to hide the shock in your features, your heart still racing at his action. 

“Why didn’t you call?” You blurt out.

Steve raises his eyebrows at you, eyes lighting up at your question, his smirk widens as he reaches for your hand under water, trying to pull you closer after looking over your shoulder, but you don’t budge, despite the fluttering in your heart, you don’t budge. 

“Why didn’t you?” He retorts. 

Because every time you wanted to, reminders of your past would come to haunt you. 

You clench your jaw, and look down, instead of answering the question he threw right back at you, without giving you the explanation that you wanted. 

If he wants to keep playing games, then so be it.  

You push his hand away from yours, despite longing for more. You take a step forward, and lift your head, plastering a confident look on your face as you reach your hand out to hook your finger around the elastic band on his swim trunks, making him gulp. 

“I was satisfied,” you shrug, lying right through your teeth.

He chuckles, licking his lips as he looks around, trying not to react to your touch, to your nails grazing his skin. 

“Right, Blondie.” 

You tilt your head at him, “what, you think you’re so irresistible, Lego head?” You ask, as you bring your hand back to your side and put some distance between you both again. 

He shakes his head at you, smiling in amusement, “oh, you wanna continue this little back and forth then, huh?” He points between you both. 

His spitcurl falls in front of his eyes, drops of water roll down his cheeks, and it takes everything in you not to follow those drops and watch as they fall down to his chest. 

You don’t, but if it will keep him interested, then you are willing to do anything. 

So you say, yes. 

You keep playing the game, you keep teasing him, all day. 

Whether you give him suggestive looks or tease him with the way you suck on the straw as you drink one cocktail after another, you bend down in front of him and touch him whenever no one is looking. 

You play with him, just like you did before. 

And it drives him crazy, you know it, you can see it – the fire behind his eyes only growing stronger and brighter, it’s what spurs you on.

When the teens are gone, Argyle and Eddie finally roll up some joints, Steve lights up the fire in the pit and Jonathan gets some more drinks from the fridge. 

You all sit beneath the starry sky, the fire now lighting up the space around you, as music and laughter sounds through Eddie’s backyard.

You sit between Robin and Eddie, sipping on your fourth drink, your mind now hazy enough for you to let loose completely, giggling at anything your best friend whispers into your ear. You don’t even notice the sour looks you’re getting from the one who is sitting across from you. 

Argyle and Robin are in some deep discussion about sex and relationships, the girl keeps scoffing at anything that leaves his lips. 

Nancy and Jonathan watch the little banter unfold with amused looks on their faces. 

“I’m just saying, I’m not even speaking out of experience, dude,” Argyle slurs, holding his hands up in surrender, “I think you can’t have sex with just one person and be happy with it – how can you even know what’s good when you’ve only been with one person!?” 

Robin’s eyes roll far back as a frustrated groan escapes her. 

“That is such a man thing to say!” She mumbles, tugging at her hair. 

“It really is,” Vickie nods. 

“You know, I actually kind of agree,” Nancy shrugs, taking a sip of her beer. 

“With who?” Robin asks, tilting her head at the girl. 

While everyone looks at Nancy, waiting for the answer, you look at Steve, watching him watch her. 

“With Argyle.” 

Steve’s eyes widen for a moment, and he quickly looks away from her and down at the joint between his fingers, he raises it up towards his mouth and places it between his lips. 

You saw it, the flash of hurt, the pain behind his dark eyes. 

And you can’t help but feel a pang of your own hurt, knowing how much he still mourns his past with her, how much it still hurts him that she isn’t his anymore, that he couldn’t make her happy, that he couldn’t make her feel the way Jonathan makes her feel. 

“Oh wow,” Robin murmurs, looking down wide eyed. 

“You gotta experiment!” Argyle says as she takes a look around, “as long as you’re single and you’re not hurting anyone, go around and have fun.” 

Steve’s eyes find yours and he holds contact for a moment. 

“Mhmm, I agree.” You nod. “But I think when you have that one person that you're deeply attracted to, both sexually and romantically, you can still have a lot of fun, you can experiment together and like, what do you need other people for when you have these types of feelings? You won’t get bored with that person.”

“Thank you!” Robin claps her hands together, “that’s what I’m talking about!” 

“But, as long as you don’t have that person, you can just… experiment and have fun with others if you feel like it,” you shrug, taking a sip of your drink. 

Steve’s eyes are glued on you, a weird feeling tugging in his chest. 

"Oh, really?" Your best friend smirks at you, leaning forward in his seat, he places his elbows on his knees, “and how many people have you experimented with?” He wiggles his brows, ‘knowing’ about the very recent one. 

Suddenly, all eyes are on you, all filled with curiosity. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” 

Argyle groans at you, and so does Eddie, while the others chuckle. 

Steve, who watches you, not even expecting any other answer than ‘two guys’, knows about Billy and, well, himself. He passes the joint over to Robin and reaches for his beer instead. 

“Come on, it’s a tight little circle, no secrets leave this,” Robin gestures to the group, “how many hearts did you break?” 

You roll your eyes with a smile on your face, tugging the blanket closer to your body. 

“Well, I have never broken any hearts before,” you start, avoiding his eyes, “but uh… there have been a… few… guys.”

You miss the way Steve freezes, the way he holds his beer midair as he was just about to take a sip from the can. 

“Give us the number girl!” Eddie complains. 

If you weren’t so tipsy, you would have probably felt much more flustered, beneath all the gazes. 

With a sigh, you lean back in your chair, and look at your best friend, “fine… eight.” 

Eddie gasps, his brown eyes grow so wide that it makes you laugh. 

It’s truly a tragedy that you didn’t look at Steve, you would have seen the shocked and the very upset look on his face after that revelation. 

“Holy shit!” Robin laughs in surprise, “I-I would’ve never thought! N-Not that it’s a bad thing of course, it’s just, you’re so… reserved!” She turns to look at Steve, also missing the look on his face, “look at you, you both have something in common!” 

“Wow,” Jonathan slurs, dragging out the word, “good for you, grumpy.” He holds his drink up at you. 

Nancy’s eyebrows are furrowed, her lips pursed as she looks at you in question, “so… are they like… all from Hawkins?” 

“Oh no, no…” You shake your head, now catching a glimpse of Steve who stares at you with an unreadable look on his face. “My sister invited me to college parties, and we uh… went out to bars in Indianapolis, it was just one night stands… nothing deep, really.” 

“Damn, sweetheart,” Eddie whistles, “I didn’t know you were so wild.” 

While everyone seems to be very entertained by your sex life, Steve can’t help but feel irritated by it, despite not knowing any of the details yet. 

“How many were from Hawkins?” Nancy asks.

“Just uh… one.” 

Despite the bitterness on his tongue, he can’t help but smirk, knowing that he is the one, pride swelling inside of him. 

“Do we know him?” Robin asks and Steve nearly chuckles, but then you say something that makes the smirk drop again. 

“Um no, I don’t think so… I mean, he went to our school, but was like two years older? He was the captain of the football team.”

Vickie’s eyes widen, but she bites her tongue, while Robin furrows his brows, trying to figure out who it was. 

Nancy and Jonathan glance at each other, furrowing their brows. 

And, Steve… Oh, Steve is really not having the best time tonight. He knows exactly who you mean, Jacob Leeney. 

In his King Steve era, he always considered him his rival. 

While he was the captain of the basketball team, Jacob was the captain of the football team, and both of them were on the swim team, competing with each other to steal another number one spot. The girls loved him just as much as they loved Steve, if not more. Unlike him, who brought out the asshole side of himself to woo the girls, Jacob was nice to them, a real ‘sweet’ gentleman who used his plastered kindness to get his latest conquest in his bed. 

He can’t believe you were one of his girls. 

He can’t believe you fucked this many people in general, let alone Jacob fucking Leeney. 

“You fucked Jacob!?” Eddie jumps up, “when!?” 

You’re a little confused by the anticipation in his features, like there’s more he wants to ask, like there’s more that he knows. 

“Uh… last year?” 

“It was you!” He laughs loudly, pointing his ringed finger at you, “Fuck, Jacob. Holy shit, sweetheart, are you that good?” He smirks, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

Steve clenches his jaw, glaring daggers at Eddie. 

“What?” You chuckle, confused. 

“I was outside and he approached me after making me wait for like forty minutes to sell him weed as he had asked, and he just went ‘sorry man, I just had the best head and fuck of my life.’”

Steve feels nausea rising up to his throat, blood rushing to his cheeks from the irritation that grows inside of him. He stares at you, unable to tear his eyes away, and right now, he can’t tell whether he wants to drag you out of here and fuck you in his car to show you that he’s the best you’ve ever had or just leave by himself as the anger inside of him grows and grows. 

Pictures of you and Jacob flash in his mind, making him clench his jaw and holding the can tighter, bending it a little. 

Did you moan for Jacob the same way you did for him? 

Did you cling to his body too?

Did you beg him for more? 

“How do you even know it was me, Eddie!?”

“Was it at Caroline’s house?”

“Doesn’t prove it’s me–”

“November 3rd.” 

Silence fills the air around you all.

“Oh shit, it was me…”

Nancy giggles at you and at the flustered expression on your face. 

“Looks like you got some competition, Steve,” Robin laughs, slapping her best friend’s shoulder, “we got a fuckboy and a fuckgirl in this round.” 

“I’m not a fuckgirl–”

“Sure you’re not, Blondie,” Steve says a little too harshly, “just that you fucked eight guys!” 

And he wonders if you’re still doing that, if you’re still fucking others, even now. 

The smug look on your face tells him that you do – is that the reason why you didn’t call? Because you had someone else who entertained you when he didn’t? 

The thought fills him with anger and he doesn’t even know why. 

You can do whatever you want, whoever you want. 

He was the one who set up that rule.

If you do fuck others, maybe he should too. 

“So?” You shrug at him, smirk tugging at your lips as you finally look at him. 

He clenches his jaw, squinting his eyes at you. 

You’re a little taken aback by the very obvious anger in his features, and yet, you can’t help but get distracted by how good he looks under the orangey glow of the fire.

“Aw, are you jealous that someone could beat your score?” Argyle laughs, wiggling his brows at Steve. 

“Yeah, Steve,” Robin smirks, “how many girls did you fuck?” 

You watch him curiously but you already know that no number will surprise you. Steve was or maybe he still is a real fuckboy, maybe not the rough kind, but still. 

He clears his throat, looking around awkwardly as he scratches the back of his neck, before his eyes settle on you. 

“Well, Blondie and I are actually on the same score.”

And here you thought you wouldn’t be surprised, you expected more from him. 

Eddie laughs beside you, “are you playing in the same league though? What popular chick did you bang?”

Now that is something you don’t really want to know about. It’s not that you’re not curious about it, you just don’t want to deal with any more insecurities. 

But Steve doesn’t bite his tongue, he could look at anyone right now, he could look at Eddie, who had asked him the question in the first place, but instead, he looks right at you. 

“Jennifer Mitchell.” 

Oh. 

You have to bite your lip to stop your jaw from dropping. 

You heard all about Jennifer Mitchell, Billy told you everything you… didn’t even want to know. The girl wasn’t exactly popular in school, but she was known… for one or two things. 

Steve gives you a smug look, and you can’t even hold back from rolling your eyes at him. 

“And the scratch marks?” Eddie asks, smirking. “Was that Heidi?” 

You look down, pressing your lips together. 

“What scratch marks!?” Robin gasps. 

Steve clears his throat, running his fingers through his hair, panic settling in his gut. 

Robin knows all about Heidi, and she knows that the girl isn’t capable of rough sex. 

Maybe the alcohol in her system and another made up lie of his, will satisfy her though, so he tells her that Heidi changed, that she is now… experimenting. And he relaxes a bit, when she starts asking other questions, ones that aren’t about Heidi. 

You don’t sit there and listen for long, not wanting to know the details about his times with other girls. You can’t stand it, so you pick up your empty glass and get up to walk into the house, ‘in need of another drink.’ But you only place the glass on the kitchen counter and stand there for a few minutes, staring at the alcohol bottles. 

The jealousy that you feel is nothing new, you felt it countless times before, but it’s so much more intense now, because before last weekend, you never had him. 

Now you kind of do, and it’s not a pleasant feeling to hear all about his sex life, to wonder if he’s still seeing others – you’ve been overthinking about it enough this week already. 

You hear your friends laughing, and you wonder what else Steve had told them that is so funny. 

You roll your eyes and push yourself away from the counter, leaving the kitchen and making your way upstairs and into the direction of the bathroom, needing a moment to yourself. 

You turn on the light in the darkened room, but just as you’re about to step inside, you hear footsteps behind you. You turn around to see Steve walking towards you, with a look on his face that you can’t make out, right now. 

You tilt your head to the side, plastering a confident smile on your lips, “miss me already?” 

He catches you off guard when he places his hands on your waist and pushes you further into the bathroom, he closes the door behind him and locks it. 

Beneath the bright lights, you can see his eyes much better, they’re dark as they stare directly into yours. His hair somehow still looks perfect, despite being in the pool all day and constantly running his fingers through it, it looks just as good as always. His nose and his cheekbones are red from being out in the sun, he’s wearing a flannel, the sleeves pulled up to his elbows, the top buttons undone. You have to swallow harshly when you eye the chest hair and his sun kissed skin that peeks through, you have to tear your eyes away but he looks so… good. You can’t help yourself. 

Steve lets go of your waist, he crosses his arms over his chest, his face hardens. 

“So eight huh?” 

You lift your brows, surprised at his question, you didn’t think that this is what he came here for. 

“What’s to it?” 

“Am I number eight, Blondie?” 

“No,” you smirk, “number nine.” 

His jaw clenches a little, he blinks slowly as he glares into your eyes a little. 

“What is it, King Steve?” You ask, reaching your hand out, you place your finger on his chest, dragging it down a bit, “afraid I have more experience than you? Cause trust me… that is entirely true.” 

He chuckles at you, shaking his head, “you wish.” 

“I don’t have to wish,” you shrug, “but do tell, am I your number eight?” 

“Nah,” he whispers as his eyes flicker to your hand, to your fingertips that trace the exposed skin beneath his flannel, he gulps, trying not to show how your touch makes him feel, “you’re my number nine too.” 

“Uh huh,” you murmur. 

You wonder how many girls he had been with after Nancy left him. 

You wonder when Jennifer happened, before or after her. 

“You know, you kinda flinched a little at the mention of Jennifer,” Steve says with a very amused voice. 

“Nope,” you shrug, looking at him innocently, “just surprised you would fuck her, that’s all.” 

“Well… she certainly knew what she was doing,” he says, testing the waters to see how you will react. 

“And what exactly did she do, Harrington?”

“I’ll keep that to myself.” 

The smile on his lips and the prideful look in his eyes sparks your anger, the one that’s been brewing inside of you, all week. Yet somehow, the sadness and your insecurities were stronger than the raging emotion that now takes control of you, alongside the deep jealousy that pushes you to do something that you have been craving all fucking day. 

You throw aside all your thoughts, all your worries, and you take the leap. 

You place your hands against his chest, watching the way his smile falls as surprise lights up in his hazel eyes. You slam him against the wall next to the door that he just locked, you grab his face and pull him down, smashing your lips against his. 

Steve gasps against your lips, and you can’t help but feel excitement rushing through you. He melts against you so quickly, and so easily. He cups your cheeks and kisses back just as roughly. 

No matter how fast his lips move against yours, he isn’t the one in control today, and he knows it, he can feel it… and to his surprise, he doesn’t mind it. 

You press your tongue against his bottom lip, and he wastes no second to let you slip it into his mouth. He presses his palm against your cheek, moaning when you deepen the kiss further. 

You get lost in it, just the way you did the first time and the second time. You get so lost in his kiss that nothing around you matters anymore – not your friends who could come looking for you both any minute, not your jealousy that makes you seethe, not the fact that he isn’t yours. Nothing matters, only he does. 

He keeps moaning against your lips and as you press your chest against his and you feel him against your stomach, you can’t help but moan too. 

It takes everything in you not to drop to your knees and use your mouth to worship him, just the way you had always wanted to. 

Not yet, you tell yourself. 

You throw your arms around his neck and let your fingers get lost in his hair, tugging at it as you keep your hands busy, so you don’t give into your lust and slide your palm down his stomach and into his pants. 

You can feel that he tries to take control but you don’t let him and the moment you press your thigh between his legs, he’s done for, he stops trying to fight for dominance. A whimper falls from his lips as they stop moving against yours for a moment, stunned by your little move. 

His hands fall from your face down to your waist, holding onto it tightly as you kiss him like it’s the last thing you will ever do. 

Steve’s heart is racing in his chest, out of pure shock, his stomach fluttering and his dick twitching in his pants – he needs you, he wants you so bad. He is starting to grow breathless, but he doesn’t want this moment to end, not yet. It’s been bad enough waiting for your call all week, he had to use his hand more times than he could count as his mind kept taking him back to you. 

Now you’re here, right in front of him, and you clearly still want him just as much as he wants you. And your lips, your lips taste so good, a hint of strawberry from the balm you always carry around the cocktails that you’ve been drinking all day. 

The roughness of the kiss, the intensity and your touches show him that there is a side to you that he hasn’t had the pleasure of getting to know just yet, but he wants it, so so bad. 

You tug at his hair, tilting his head back a little as your tongue keeps moving against his and the kiss somehow grows deeper and hungrier, moans falling from your lips, echoing through the room with his. 

Neither of you care about the possible consequences. 

Steve nearly busts in his pants when you press your stomach against his aching dick. You let your left hand roam his shoulder, his chest and his stomach, your fingertips start inching closer and closer to where he needs you the most. 

But just as he’s about to break the kiss to start begging for you to touch him, you roughly pull away and take a step back from him, leaving him without the warmth you just provided him with. 

He almost whines at the loss of your touch. 

Now the room is filled with panting and loud breathing besides the deafening silence. 

You bite your lip, tasting the beer and the mint that his lips have left behind. Your knees nearly buckle as you take in the sight of him. 

Flushed cheeks, messy hair and puffy lips, along with the big eyes that are filled with nothing but desperation and lust. 

Despite the fluttering in your heart, as you stare at the man before you, you can’t help but smirk. 

Who would’ve thought you could turn him into that? 

That you could leave him desperate and panting for more. 

You take a step forward again, watching the way his curious eyes follow every of your movement, lips parting as he slightly leans down, thinking that you will kiss him again. 

And you do, just not the way he wanted you to. 

You press your lips to his cheek, giving it a soft and teasing kiss before you lean closer to his ear. 

“I’ll wait for you at my house later.” 

And with that, you step away from him, you unlock the door and open it, throwing another glance over your shoulder at a very flustered Steve – a look that leaves you swelling with pride and a glimpse of hope. 

You can feel the way he reacts to your touches, you can see how red his cheeks can glow for you, how lust filled his eyes can get – something that never even happened in the past, not even once but now here you both are.

You doubt that he could ever feel more for you than this. 

And yet, you would wait for years. 

You would wait forever. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@prettyboyeddiemunson @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @taintedcigs @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles @agirlwholovesrockstars

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington angst #steve harrington series #stranger things angst

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (3)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, four, five

Word Count: around 2K again.

Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times

A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)

Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.

Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.

Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.

That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.

(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.

Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.

Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.

Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?

Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.

After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.

At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.

"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."

Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.

"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.

"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."

"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.

"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.

"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.

"Take a guess"

"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"

The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.

His eyes darken, and his voice goes octanes lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."

She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.

He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.

"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."

By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.

At least until they reach Arlong Park.

Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.

Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.

A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.

She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.

Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.

The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.

Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.

Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.

It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--

And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.

"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.

‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’

And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.

Bastard.

''You better'', she whispers to herself.

#buggy x reader #buggy the clown #buggy one piece #buggy the clown fanfiction #buggy x you #op buggy #one piece live action #one piece x reader #captain buggy

[fleurriee]

— wanted desires ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!pregnant reader

synopsis ; too worried about being rough on you, neteyam won’t allow himself to give into his desires, despite you having never looked more ravishing. but, it’s simply been too long for you, and you can hold yourself back no longer.

word count ; 4.4k

themes ; smut, fluff, established relationship (mates)

warnings ; explicit content: pregnant sex, p in v sex, breast play, nipple play, ear kissing, but all kinda sensual??

author’s note ; (in this, ive kinda just assumed that na’vi sleep naked) so this has slightly less dad!neteyam in it & more horny neteyam which im sorry about. i really can’t decide if im happy with it but i want to go along with the plans i have for this series & this was a chapter i’d planned a while back. i had originally planned this to be more smutty but as i started writing this i just couldn't bc even tho it's dad!neteyam who’s just 🥵 he'd be too scared to hurt you, so, we've ended up with this?? i PROMISE the next one is absolutely fucking adorable & will have everything people want when it comes to dad!neteyam!! this is part of my dad!neteyam series, which you can find in my masterlist below!

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Neteyam was everything you could've asked for... and more.

As you slowly but surely started to reach the end of your pregnancy, the last stages just looming over your shoulders, he was always there for you. You were becoming more irrational, and there was no doubt in your mind that you were annoying everyone you came into contact with. But, each and every one of them seemed to understand, and none better than Neteyam.

Your mate was constantly by your side - physically or mentally - tending to your every need and abiding by your every request. Hormones getting the better of you, you also started to take your problems and own annoyances out on him. It was completely unfair and it always made you feel incredibly guilty and horrible in the end, crying your eyes out in your mate's arms as all you could do was apologise profusely.

But, not once did he hold it against you. No - instead of taking every harsh word you uttered to him to heart, instead of truly believing that you meant them, he allowed the blows and the insults to be thrown his way, soaking them in until your temper died down and there was nothing but an exhausted, drained and broken girl in front of him. After that, he'd soothe your apologies, caging you in his arms protectively, stroking both the top of your head and your expanding stomach whilst he assured you he understood that you hadn't meant all those words, that it was okay.

He'd insist that he didn't mind taking such aggravation, not when you were doing all the hard work... not when you were carrying his entire world on your shoulders.

To no surprise of anyone, his family were as perfect as they could be, too, always either giving you a helping hand, or steering clear less they want to say the wrong thing. It was obvious from the very start of the stark differences between the two sides of Neteyam's - and, you guess, your own - family.

When it came to those that were always supportive and understanding, it was always the girls. Neytiri would constantly make sure that you were the most comfortable in any situation you found yourself in, wanting to ensure that the mother was safe and healthy before anything else; Kiri was, without fail, bringing you different concotions made by both herself and Mo'at that helped ease your pain and soothe your anxieties; and Tuk, consistently babbling about how excited she is to finally meet her niece or nephew, planning out how all she's going to do when they arrive is dote on them. Each of them had created their own roles to play in your pregnancy, and each one comfortably took your mind off the worries that were swirling around, believing that simply nothing could go wrong when you had such beautiful people around you all the time.

On the complete other side, there were the boys. Both Jake and Lo'ak were different stories compared to the rest of their families - whilst the two of them were as excited and eager to meet your baby, too, neither one of them wanted to really get too involved, something that didn't exactly bother you, rather just making you giggle at their reactions. They gave you as much space as possible, too scared to get too close in case they either annoyed you or did something wrong. Whilst Jake had done this many times before, gone through several of these similar experiences with his own mate, he didn't want to overstep any boundaries between yourself and his eldest son, considering he had no idea what it was like carrying a baby for so long. And, Lo'ak... Lo'ak was just scared of his older brother.

After all, you were now considered delicate, and they knew if something happened to you, they'd be on the feral side of Neteyam... something neither of them particularly wanted to experience any time soon.

But, there was one thing that you couldn't stand during all of this, and, surprisingly, it wasn't anyone else trying to help.

It was Neteyam, and the fact that he wouldn't touch you.

Way more often than you were used to, you found yourself feeling sexually frustrated, the only thing you needed being for yourself and Neteyam to be intimate in the same way that got you in this situation in the first place. You narrowed your sudden feelings down to the fact that it had been so long - whilst the two of you never really had sex all the time before becoming pregnant, after being denied of your wants for an excruciatingly long period of time now, you were slowly teetering over the edge.

And, it wasn't as though you weren't trying, either. Your attempts of kissing him sensually, gaining beautiful-sounding moans out of him before he forced himself away from you; touching him explicitly, feeling him shudder under your grasp, before he moved himself impossibly further away from you, eyes scrunched tight as he held himself back; laying yourself bare for him when he go home, before he sighed dejectedly and shook his head, doing his damn best to ignore you... all to waste.

Neteyam just couldn't stand the idea of hurting you or the baby.

Sure, you guess you could understand where he was coming from, too, considering neither of you had been in this situation before, having no idea if having sex could harm either one of you, and the both of you were too prideful to ask someone else about it. So, you were stuck in what felt like a never-ending loop, enjoying itself as it tortured you blissfully.

But, you had never been so frustrated in your entire life.

The day had, once again, been a long and tiring one for the two of you, trying to let sleep overtake your entire senses and succumb to the world beyond. You were lay down upon your mat, the two of you on your sides - something that always felt more comfortable against the pains in your stomach, so Neteyam was happy to oblige - as your mate's front curls into your figure, his tail automatically wrapping itself around your bump protectively, like it always did, like a ritual.

That's when you started to feel it.

Your mind was beginning to deny you of any sleep anyway, your arousal once again getting the better of you as it painted your wanted desires within the forefront of you mind's eye until there was nothing else you could think of. But, it seemed as though Neteyam was feeling something, too - a bulge poking against your lower back, throbbing gently every now and again like it was demanding your attention, like it was excited.

For a moment, you wondered if Neteyam had even noticed his own predicament, considering he was the one so desperate to not engage in this way, and now he's aching. It's ironic that the roles have suddenly reversed, and you wonder how next to play this out.

Taking in a shuddering breath when you feel his tail subconsciously stroke against your skin, you weigh up your options - you could either ignore it completely, knowing it'll be a fight to get him to give into you, allowing the sultry thoughts within your mind to be the only release you'd get... or, you could take control for yourself.

In no time at all, you decide upon the latter. It wasn't much of a decision to make, either, too wrapped up in the sensations you knew only he could give you, wanting nothing but him all over you.

You start of with the barest of movements, not wanting to completely pounce on him in surprise, knowing that if you did, he'd get angry. The best way to get him to give in was always going to be to get him weak. Fidgeting about in place, barely moving, you pretend as though you're subconsciously trying to get comfortable - after all, who was he to say that you weren't when carrying a Na'vi around constantly?

A small moan sounds behind you, under his breath like he hadn't meant for it to spill from his lips, but it already has you smirking slightly. Instantly, you know he wants this just as much as you do, and if your plan works how you intend it to, you'll both be falling asleep blissful and satisfied after too long of denying yourselves.

Your next step is start rubbing your ass against his bulge, but ensuring your movements stay slow, so as not to arouse him so suddenly. At the feel of him against you in such a sensual way, a breathy sigh leaves your lips, eyes fluttering closed as you forget how much you truly enjoyed the feel of his cock anywhere on you.

Just as you’re enjoying yourself, your ass continuing to rub painfully slow against his excitement, there's a rough hand placed firmly along the side of your hip. It's not too tight a grip, not wanting to hurt you or possibly bruise you, but it's enough to hold you down in place and stop your movements from carrying on any further. "Stop," Neteyam almost demands, voice gruff as though he's just woken up, which means he'd been dreaming about taking you like he always loved to.

His one word command does practically the complete opposite of its original purpose, however - instead of listening and giving into him, it only seems to fuel your fire, adding on to your already painful arousal. The way he said the word, sounding so authoritative and annoyed and just sexy has you wanting more, more, more. It definitely wasn't in his plans to have you reacting such a way, but you couldn't help yourself anymore, too far gone. This was the closest you'd been to one another in this way for too long.

Your response to him is a whimper, pathetic and pleading, as you force your hips to move once more despite him hand still placed firmly on you. When your ass brushes against his cock again, he hisses, the sensation no doubt sending him into overdrive, whilst his fingers hold a tighter grip, automatically indenting themselves into your skin.

"Please," you whine, breaths uneven and you were barely even touching each other. "Neteyam, please."

There's a brief moment of silence that lingers between the two of you as your words evaporate into the surrounding air, yourself guessing that it's now Neteyam's turn to weigh up the options set out before him. Unfortunately, he knows you like he knows the back of his own hand, meaning it's obvious straight away that you wont give in now that you're this close to getting what you want. Besides, despite having seen you plead for him to just touch you before you fell pregnant in a way that had him excited, he's never heard you like this - desperate, anguished, and downright aching.

It makes him feel more thrilled than he'd like to admit - especially to you, right in this moment.

With a sigh of defeat, Neteyam knows there's not much else he can do other than give you what you want - although, he could change how he does it. He removes his hand from your waist, tail staying still in its place like always, fidgeting about. You're unsure as to what exactly he's doing, not words or explanations exchanged, rather just letting him do what he wants. For a second, you wonder if your plan had backfired, and he was moving further away from you, or possibly even leaving. The thought has your heart aching in displeasure.

But, then all thoughts are wiped from your mind when you begin to feel a gentle prod against your soaked entrance, subconsciously lifting one of your legs slightly higher in the air at the sensation, before Neteyam is sheathing himself fully inside you. His hand closest to you wraps around your elevated leg to relieve you of the annoyance of lifting it up yourself. When all you can really feel is Neteyam, no longer empty but warm and full, a guttural moan escapes your lips before you can trap it, your hand coming up to slap over your mouth, eyes closed tightly as you take him whole.

You hadn't truly realised how long it had been since you last felt him this way until now. Curse him and his damn protective instincts.

In just seconds, you want nothing more than to chase more of that feeling, more of that euphoric sensation, rubbing yourself impossibly closer to him as the tip of his cock hits such a sweet spot, you're sure you're with the Great Mother in some type of beautiful heaven right now.

Before you can go any further, though, Neteyam's palm finds your hip again, stopping you in place and this time, you don't bother trying to hold yourself back. The whimpers and whines that leave your throat at such a denial are mewling and pitiful, writhing about to relieve yourself of his hold, but he's relentless. Somehow, his entire body is closer to you than it was last time, faces inches away from one another as he brings his lips to your ear. At first, all you can decipher are breathless pants as his chest heaves up and down from trying to hold himself back. "No," he grunts, puffing as he attempts to gain control once more, "we're not doing that. We're going to stay like this - that's the best I'll give you."

This time, it's a groan that falls from your lips, one that sounds almost painful but you're too annoyed to care, cursing out everything for Neteyam being such a gentleman. All you want is for him to fuck you - was that so much to ask? You're not even sure if the situation you've put yourselves in is any better than having nothing, either, because now you can feel all of him entirely, can feel how excited he is to finally be inside you as his cock throbs in pleasure at being snuggled between your walls. Now, it just feels like a taunt of what you could have.

He chuckles softly against your ear at your reaction, still having not moved - and he probably wouldn't now, not unless he wanted to really feel you. The teasing smile is wiped off his features after a second, however, and replaced by one of sympathy, words becoming softer than they were before. "I'm sorry, muntxate (wife), I really don't want to hurt you or our 'evenge (girl)."

There's just a brief split second where his loving words filter through you and knock your senses apart - of course, he wouldn't want to hurt his girls, he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he ever did. The idea of anyone harming either of you drove him insane, let alone the cause of your pain being him. But, your fleeting emotions cascade into ones of just pure desire, filtering in one ear and out the other until your mind is nothing but a hazy cloud, panting desperately for more.

You give yourself a moment to just breathe, to not hyperventilate at the exultant feeling of him fully inside you. Neteyam assures that his grip stays firm against your hip, not wishing to relent against his own commands so easily, but he does rub his thumb in a soothing circle, painting your skin with a reminder of how much he loves both you and your child.

You're quick to move your hips again, eyes staying closed as you imagine everything he could be doing to you right now, rubbing yourself against him entirely. Immediately, your mate tightens his fingers in his grasp, a clear warning sign for you to stop in your teasing, to just bask in the embrace of one another and say that's enough.

Yet, it isn't enough. It's nowhere near being enough for you. There's a feeling of being slightly impressed at the restraint he's showing to you, and irritated all the same, until another idea comes to your mind.

Smiling a little smugly to yourself, already knowing what you're about to do next is something he definitely cannot resist based on the previous times you've done it, you clench your fluttering walls around his length, taking him whole and tightly. Your own actions cause a breath of blissful relief to pass through your slightly parted lips, loving the way you can feel his cock throb even more.

Another hiss sounds against your ear, his grip tightening, but this time, so does his tail as it continues to stay wrapped firmly around your bulging figure, the end vibrating in a fever of both agitation and anticipation. Even his body desires it, but he wont allow his mind to. He's starting to pant a little more frequently, too, now, like he's weakening at the seams, and that's when you know you have him exactly where you want him.

You continue to clench around him, bringing your hips up and down his length at a tantalisingly slow pace to ensure he feels every inch of you, hitting every spot of your walls. There's a feeling of triumph coursing through you when he no longer attempts to stop you in your teasing movements, knowing he's finally allowed himself to give into you entirely. Instead, the hand that was once gripping your hip snakes its way around your front, fondling against your breasts as he squeezes them sensually. When he moves to the other one, wanting to give it the same attention, he pinches your nipple, loving how sensitive they are due to your pregnant state, eliciting a deep moan from the back of your throat, no longer caring if anyone else can hear you.

"You're a little minx, you know that?" he taunts, words a harsh whisper against your ear but you don't care - not when the once slow movements between the two of you suddenly increase in their pace as Neteyam takes over. The alternating grip, too, against your breasts tightens, constantly squeezing them as he soaks in how swollen they feel. "Always getting what you want."

The tip of his cock repeatedly probes against that sweet, spongy part within you so beautifully as his thrusts continue to increase in their speed. Your mate almost feels feral with his actions, perhaps finally realising that he shouldn't have denied the two of you the pleasure of one another, not when you were so needy. Not wanting to stop clenching around him as he moves in and out of you in a relentless pace, you can feel your release quickly approaching already, no doubt having felt forsaken for so long - you're sensitive enough as it is being pregnant.

"Neteyam-" you moan beautifully, breathily, like a songcord to your mate's ears, sure he's never head you sound so ethereal before. You have to cut yourself off as you moan in pleasure when you start to feel his balls slapping sensually against your skin, the warm sensation within wrapping around you like a blanket, one you never want to get rid of.

He brings his head closer than it already was, burying his face within the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. Sometimes he wishes he could drown in your scent, more so than ever now that you're pregnant - somehow, you managed to emit an even more delicious scent than before. Sucking against your particular sweet spot he knows you adore having his attention on, he ensures to leave behind at least a small mark, wishing for the entire clan to know that you were his, even though you're carrying his firstborn, wanting to be sure.

Lips moving feverishly against your warm skin as he continues to fuck you at a pace that was relentless, your pleasing moans scratching against the back of your throat, he eventually finds himself at your ears, placing soft kisses against them. The sensation has them fluttering in satisfaction, but then he trails down to suck harshly against your jaw, and your breath stutters, whining. "Mmm," he hums against your skin, now resorting to placing gentle kisses when he was once rough. "What is it, sevin (pretty)?"

In all this time, whilst his mouth was focused elsewhere, not once had his thrusts faltered, loving the way you’re so drunk on him entirely.

"I'm - I'm so close, 'teyam," you mewl, eyes slightly rolling to back of your head as he grunts at yet another clench from you around his cock, before you close them shut when they start to tear up.

"I know," he agrees, words just a breathy whisper, already being able to understand how close you truly are from the way you feel around him. It feels like his mind is on fire as your walls flutter from being so close to release, clenching and unclenching around him, having lost its rhythm. His pants are becoming more erratic now, bearing down upon you, but it makes you feel alive. "I'm close, too."

Quickly, knowing that the two of you wont be able to last much longer, he brings his queue forward, the tendrils reaching out as he then connects it with your own awaiting one. Movements now becoming sloppy and uncoordinated, but continuing to hit right at your cervix, your eyes widen as you start to feel everything he currently is - all the love, the desire, the frustration - bathing in one another like two pieces of a puzzle only made for you two.

Burying his head back in the crook of your neck, hand moving down to caress your swollen baby bump - one that's just moons away from its expected day - he whispers sweet nothings against your skin, wanting to tattoo them into you so you'll never forget them. Words like I love you, you're so beautiful, I can't wait to make more, having you crooning somehow more than ever, feeling him peppering kisses to you now.

It's not long after that when the two of you are finally releasing together, explicit moans and grunts escaping your lips as your arousal's become spent. "Neteyam, Neteyam, Neteyam-" you repeat his name like a prayer, having never sounded more amazing to your mate.

You can feel the mixture of your cum with his against Neteyam's cock, awaiting the feeling of becoming empty and cold when he removes himself from you and lets it trickle between your thighs. But, nothing of the sort happens. Rather, your mate stays put, keeping his cock in your warmth, snug, and therefore, keeping all his cum pushed further in you - something he's always loved to do.

Eyes closed in bliss, mouth parted as you try to catch your breath, Neteyam gives your stomach a few tender taps, garnering your attention. Before you can fully move your head on your own, Neteyam's hand moves to cup the side of your face, bringing your noses together as you breathe one another in. He presses a forgiving kiss against your lips, letting them linger against one another, not wanting to pull away. "I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asks, the worry and concern evident in both his tone, but also the way you notice his ears droop and eyes glaze over just at the thought.

Looking up at him, you give him the most loving smile you could muster, shaking your head adamantly. "No, ma'teyam," your words are gentle, soothing, "we're both okay, I promise." You make sure to kiss him again with the same softness he gave you, wanting to ensure he completely understood that you meant every word, that you were okay.

This time, when you pull away, he nuzzles your noses together in a domestic way he's started to do since a few moons ago - the same way he likes to do it with your stomach, like he's doing it with your daughter. Pressing his forehead against your own, his eyes never once leave yours, full of adoration and devotion. "I'm sorry I was neglecting you..."

Instantly, your heart sinks at his words, your hand moving up to caress his cheek soothingly like he does yours. You can hear the despair and brokenness behind his voice, and it only pains you further - Neteyam couldn't have been a better mate throughout this entire journey together, but he didn't understand that. He always thought he had to be perfect, that he had to do everything right straight away, but this was a journey you were experiencing for the first time together.

Neteyam couldn't neglect you if he tried. He's too doting, too domesticated, too tender to even think about doing such a thing.

"You do not need to apologise, my muntxatan (husband). I understand why you were worried - but you never neglected me, not once. You were just scared, and so am I..." you pause, your once sympathetic and caring expression turning teasing and menacing, "...but, now that we know that it doesn't do either of us any harm, maybe we could do it more often..."

He chuckles at your words, watching as you bite your lips in mock thought, attempting to hide the sultry smile playing at your lips. It's like your words instantly managed to clear his worry, feeling it dissipate at your loving reassurance, until his eyes were bright and his smile wide, looking down at you like you held the entire universe within you.

In a way, he supposed you did.

"I guess we could..." he relents, his own tone turning into one of teasing, too, smirking as he brings your faces closer into a sensual kiss. This one is all tongues and teeth clashing together, feverish in anticipation to experience more together now that the worries once clouding over the two of you had begun to part.

As his hands roam over your body, from your jaw, to your neck, to your breasts, and finally to your stomach, caressing every inch of your skin like you were a painting, he moves to hover over you, mindful not to put his weight on top of you. A giggle falls from your lips at his sudden change in demeanour, but that's soon swallowed by another deep kiss that has your breath dispersing almost immediately.

It was safe to say, with the amount of times the two of you came together as one just during that particular night, if you weren't pregnant beforehand, you definitely would've been after that.

taglist ;

@monahiiii @bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr @lanasblood @camilo-uwu @queen190 @adrianarose7 @ttkttt @ayoungforeveruniverse-blog

#𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐑’s work ── ✎ #neteyam #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar 2 #neteyam fluff #neteyam smut #neteyam x reader #neteyam sully x reader #neteyam x you #neteyam sully x you #neteyam x female reader #neteyam x fem reader #neteyam x pregnant reader #dad!neteyam #dad neteyam #dad neteyam series <3

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 23 || The Party Era

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language,  fluff, violence, drugs, & slight mention of alcohol consumption.

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4.8k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AFTER THAT INTIMATE morning, you and Gojo consider yourselves to be on decent enough terms. Of course, you still hate him-- or, at least you think you do, and he slowly begins to change in a good way.

When he talks to you, which is more often than before since you're no longer trying to ignore his existence unless necessary, his tone is always soft and filled to the brim with affection. You try not to bring up the fact that he claimed to be in love with you but it was extremely difficult not to think about it.

Blackmail or not, you can't just ignore his confession.

Shoko mentioned that he was in love with you before but you didn't want to believe her so, now that he's told you, you genuinely don't know how to feel.

His words echo in your brain constantly, so much so that it grows annoying. It's like you can't unhear it-- Gojo really said he was in love with you. It wasn't a dream, wasn't something someone else told you he said, and it wasn't a lie, Gojo Satoru confessed his love to you.

You hate it though.

You despise the fact that he loves you. To you, it's almost entitled for him to feel like he has that right. How dare he hold such a strong emotion for you? If he felt this way, why is he forcing you to sleep with people for him? It makes no sense.

Why would someone claim to love you and put you through so much?

If he's been in love with you all this time, why start the list in the first place? Why couldn't he have just tried to win your heart from the beginning? Why the list? Why the blackmail? You don't understand him.

A sigh escapes you as you think about it. By this point in time, it's roughly been two weeks since that faithful morning and you can't stop thinking about it. You have so many questions, wondering to yourself when it'll all make sense.

Then, there's also the longing you feel in your chest to see Choso again.

Of course, you haven't stopped thinking about him. You can't wait for the list to be over. The fact that there are only two people left makes it feel like a lot less pressure on you.

From here on out, you just want everything to go smoothly-- that's all you ask for.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

In the two weeks you spent at peace with Gojo, you and him have talked about who your next target should be; Sukuna or Nanami?

He tried to explain that Sukuna would be easier than Nanami but you quickly told him that you're not sure you trust his difficulty levels when no one you've seduced has been that hard. Well, with the exception of Mr. Fushiguro, seducing him took weeks of you pretending you had some kind of assignment to complete.

But even so, you still managed to pull that off. If anything, you felt a little more confident in yourself about seducing the last two people, thinking it'd be a nice walk in the park from here on out.

With this newfound confidence in yourself, you tried telling Gojo that it didn't matter which order you seduced the last two in. "Almost every difficulty level you've given me so far has been wrong, y'know..." You told him over the phone.

Though you couldn't see it, his lips pulled into a pout, "That's not true, sweets... Suguru was medium, no?"

"No, Satoru, he was easy..." You hum, "The only reason he'd be considered anything close to medium is because I had to get used to his uhm... teasing."

Gojo smiles foolishly at the way you say his name, his heart swelling in his chest over such a simple conversation with you, "Yeah, yeah, whatever." He hums, "Anyway, it's still up to you who you wanna go for first, I was just sayin' Sukuna will be easier."

You sigh, "How so?"

"Well for starters, he's having a party this Thursday so like..." Gojo shrugs sheepishly on the other side of the phone, "If you're free, you could come there with me and meet him."

"Uhuh... And what about Nanami?" You question as you jot things down in your journal, your body comfortably laid out across your bed.

"Hmmmm..." Gojo hums dramatically in thought, "I think there's a bar he goes to every weekend?"

"You think?" Your eyes narrow, "I need you to be sure."

"I'm like ninety-nine point nine percent sure." He says, "He goes on Friday nights so, y'know..."

"Are you suggesting that I formally meet Sukuna and Nanami, then decide who I want to sleep with first?" You ask for clarification.

"Pretty much, yeah."

You look around your room for a second in thought before shrugging, "Alright, sounds like a plan."

Gojo smiles, "Really? So... you do realize this means you'll be going to a party with me, right?"

"Okay?"

Curiosity sparks within him, "Do you even like parties?"

"Eh, I haven't had enough friends to want to go recently. But, I used to go to them a lot during Freshman year." You explain casually, earning a hum from him.

"Aww, and you didn't invite meee?" Gojo whines.

"I didn't know you, Satoru..." You sigh, finding yourself smiling ever so slightly at his silliness, "We literally met this semester."

"Sure about that?" He asks as if you don't recall talking to him for the first time early that August.

"Uhm, yes?" You arch a brow, "What, do you remember us talking before this year or something?"

"Nah." He hums, "But I do remember seeing you around a lot."

You begin to close your journal, "Really?"

"Mhm."

"And you never said hi?" You tease, mocking his earlier joke to you.

Gojo chuckles nervously, "I was too shy."

"Oh please." Your eyes roll, "You? Shy? Yeah right." A scoff leaves your lips in reaction to his claims.

"I'm serious." He emphasizes.

"Whatever..." You decide to brush off the topic. The phone call has lasted long enough so, you try to end it, "Anywho, we have a plan all worked out so text me the details for this party and I'll see you then."

"Aww," Gojo pouts again, "You're hanging up so soon?"

"Yes."

"C'mon, I wanted to talk some more..."

You scoff and your voice is sarcastic as you respond, "Skill issue."

Gojo bursts out laughing, "Seriously?"

"Suck it up pretty boy," You joke further, "We'll talk later."

He smiles from ear to ear, "Oh? You think I'm pretty?"

"Bye Satoru." You say flatly.

He sighs heavily and gives up, "Bye sweetheart." There's then a second of silence as you move the phone away from your ear but his next words make you freeze, "I love you."

Your heart pulses strongly, "...If you're expecting me to say it back, you're going to be disappointed."

He chuckles lightly, "I don't expect you to say it back, jus' want to make sure you don't forget."

You couldn't possibly forget that. "Right, okay, bye." The phone is quickly removed from your ear to end the call and then you toss the device across the bed.

Your heart is beating so rapidly for some reason. You do not feel the same way for him but that doesn't change the fact that hearing those words from someone makes you feel all tingly inside.

After only a second or two of gushing at his words, you return to your usual neutral mindset and pick your journal up. Your body slides off the bed and you walk to the drawer you keep it in, making sure to lock it as you place the item inside. Then, you sigh and head back to your bed.

Flopping down face first, you groan into your pillow-- wondering how the rest of this will play out. It feels weird to be on speaking terms with Gojo again. You can't exactly say you missed it but you also couldn't say you didn't enjoy it, even though the conversation wasn't long.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

With that, the rest of the week leading up to Thursday went by in a blur like always. Your schoolwork hardly ever overwhelmed you since you had that very well organized and for once, life somewhat felt like it was entering an era of peace again.

However, deep down inside you still missed Choso.

Not talking to him daily or hardly ever anymore really made you remember how boring your free time was. Perhaps that's why Thursday came so fast...

You stood in front of your bathroom mirror, your hands tracing over the silhouette this expensive dark red dress provided for you-- the item being something Gojo bought for you the very second you told him you weren't sure what to wear.

For someone who so easily deposited money into your account every time you slept with someone and bought you things the very second you made even the slightest complaint, you wondered what the hell he was in debt for.

Perhaps all of the people on the list truly couldn't be paid with money? Even so, you can't help but question what the hell he did to these men to the point where payment in the form of sexual satisfaction was established.

Toji is the only person on the list that you know the backstory for but, even then you still don't know how sexual satisfaction was agreed as a method of payment. And to add to those questions, does Gojo tell the men after you sleep with them that you were his form of payment?

If so... wouldn't that technically mean Choso should know about that?

You groan slightly as you get confused just thinking about it. It's like you're missing so much information here. The entire thing is steadily starting to make less and less sense as you go on. Not to mention the fact that he said he deleted the video of you a long time ago.

Does that mean he considered letting you go from the list? How long has he had the video erased from his phone?

You finally shake out of your thoughts when the man in question sends you a text, the chime from your cell prompting you to turn your head to the idle device on your bathroom counter. You pick it up to see a simple text that reads; 'I'm downstairs, sweetheart'.

You simply leave the man on read before making sure you have everything and heading out of your bathroom. Once you make it out of your bedroom, you spot Shoko typing away on her laptop in the living room.

The sound of you closing your room door makes her turn her head back to look at you. She gives you a wolf whistle and flashes that pretty smile of hers at you, "Heyyy beautiful." She greets teasingly.

You smile, "Hey roomie, how do I look?"

"For a party hosted by Sukuna, I'd say pretty damn good." It's no surprise that she knows who's hosting the party you're going to, Shoko always seems to be up to date with those kinda things.

A chuckle leaves your lips while you make your way to the front door, "Thank you but, I'm surprised you're not coming."

She shrugs, "I have like four assignments due tonight and my professor is a complete bitch about turning things in late." A little frown pulls at her lips, "Any other day, I'd totally go with you though."

"Maybe next time," You suggest, smiling at her, "Oh, and, I know this is a weird question but like, do you know his full name?"

"Who, Sukuna?" Shoko asks, raising a brow.

"Yeah." You nod. The memory of Choso hardly ever speaking about the guy he's supposedly related to runs through your head and you find it odd since he always seems so family-orientated.

"Itadori Sukuna, last time I checked." Shoko informs you, "But if you call him by his last name he'll be a dickhead about it. I think he hates it 'cause that's what connects him to his younger brother or something."

You blink. That somewhat explains a few things, "Damn, you sure know a lot..."

Shoko winks, "Benefits of going to parties to be nosy, you should do it more often."

With a laugh, you nod your head, "Well, thanks for that."

She flashes you one last smile and then raises her hand to wave you bye as you open the door and exit the apartment.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

When you get downstairs and to Gojo's car and quickly seat yourself in the passenger seat, his eyes are all over your appearance like he's starstruck.

A handsome smile spreads across his face, "You're absolutely breathtaking, y'know that?" Gojo complements.

You roll your eyes and begin putting your seatbelt on, "Seeing as you're able to speak perfectly fine, it doesn't sound like I'm all that breath-taking." You fire in response.

He chuckles and his bright blue eyes slip up and down your body, "You didn't hear the way I choked when I saw you walking toward the car."

"Aw, did you?" You respond mockingly.

"Mhm..." He hums lowly, suddenly focusing more on your face. His head is resting on the palm of his hand as he leans against the console in between the two of you.

You swallow and then just barely turn your face to him, "Plan on staring at me all night?"

"If I had the option to, I definitely would," Gojo says honestly.

You roll your eyes at him again and scoff.

"I'm serious." He utters, "If I got a dollar for every time your face has made my brain turn to mush, I'd be a fuckin' trillionaire."

With a sigh, you nod your chin toward the steering wheel in front of him, "Drive your car, Satoru. We don't have all night."

Gojo's eyes soften for a second as he actually loses himself in staring at you, "...You heal me," He suddenly says.

"What?" Your brows furrow and your face twists up while you meet his gaze.

He looks into your eyes for a second longer before turning his head to face forward, "I'm a broken man, sweetheart." Gojo explains as he moves his large veiny hands to the wheel in front of him, "And you... you heal me little by little every day."

You're unsure what to make of his poetic claims. Is this another type of confession? What does he mean he's broken? How do you heal him? What the hell is going on inside that brain of his??

Gojo glances over at you one more time, moving his hand to poke the center of your forehead, "Don't think on it too much, you'll get a headache trying to decipher my nonsense, sweets." He says in a soft tone.

You find it weird he even refers to his own claims as nonsense when it's far from such a thing. The things he starting to say to you are becoming more and more complex, hidden meaning behind his words and secret bittersweet implications slipped in between his claims.

You gently move his finger away from your head and nod, "Whatever... just drive already."

Gojo smiles, "Yes ma'am."

With that, he returns his hand to the wheel and does exactly as you've told him to, quickly driving to the destination of the party.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

There, you could hear lively music blaring from outside this large mansion. The place wasn't too far from where your campus is and you wondered how you went so long without ever being aware of its existence.

As stated before, you used to be quite the partier and most venues have been blessed with your presence. Yet, there you were, getting out of the car with Gojo and heading inside a house you'd surprisingly never been inside before.

Outside of the large estate, you spotted all kinds of people doing all kinds of things. It was expected and all but it had been such a long time since you've seen people having this much fun.

For starters, Choso isn't a partier. Why do you think about that now? Well, you asked him about it but he told you the chances of anyone catching him at a party are zero to none. He much rather be at home engrossed in his artwork.

There's another instance where you're wondering how different of a person Sukuna is in comparison to Choso. Especially when this big ass party is being hosted by him.

Gojo suddenly swings an arm over your shoulder and pulls you close to him while the two of you walk down the main path toward the entrance. The big double doors to the house are wide open, partygoers are scattered absolutely everywhere, and a large chunk of people are spotted inside.

Your gaze shoots over to the man all too close to you, "Satoru..."

"Sweetheart..." He replies.

"Why is your arm around me?" You question flatly.

He chuckles, a big smile painted across his overly handsome face, "I don't want you to get lost."

You blink, glancing away from Gojo and spotting people dancing, laughing, drinking, and even fucking in some places. Scrunching your face up at that last thing you spot, you continue to question Gojo, "What if Sukuna sees us like this?"

"He won't." He hums in response.

"How do you know?"

"Well... around a time like now, that asshole is probably somewhere in the middle of the party," Gojo explains.

The way he refers to Sukuna as an asshole has you worried. Are you going to have to deal with another Naoya?

Swallowing down a large gulp of nerves, you bat your eyelashes at Gojo, "Asshole...?"

He tenses up beside you for some unknown reason, "Uh... I mean, yeah." He shrugs, "Sukuna isn't the nicest guy in the world, everyone knows that."

"I didn't." You respond dryly, then you raise a brow in question, "He's not gonna be like Naoya though... right?"

Gojo looks down at you, finding your worried pout cute, and flashing a comforting smile at you, "No sweetheart, Sukuna's an asshole but..." His expression flickers and his smile fades away. He swallows and then clears his throat, "I'm pretty sure he'll satisfy you just fine."

The two of you finally enter the house and Gojo looks around, greeting some people he knows with a nod of his head while the two of you conversate.

You narrow your eyes at him, "Are you sure?"

Music is heard blaring further on in the party but you two haven't gone deep enough inside to not be able to hear each other yet.

"Fuckin' positive," Gojo suddenly sounds pissed and you grow concerned. The arm around you gets a little tighter while he walks you through some crowds and you keep looking at the man confused.

There's a vein popping out along his jawline because of how hard he's gritting his teeth. You're confused about what pissed him off so suddenly, "What's wrong?"

He avoids looking at you, "Nothing sweets, just know he'll take greeeat care of you."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You murmur. The softness of your voice alone helps Gojo to somewhat come back to his senses.

"Sukuna..." Gojo pauses, thinking hard about something before shaking the thought away, "He uh... How do I say this... He'll," The man looks down at you again, "He'll be nice to you."

"...Will he?"

"Yeah, you're cute." Gojo compliments, shrugging all his thoughts off, "He likes cute girls."

"There's plenty of cute girls at this party," You point out, "What makes me so special?"

"Everything."

You scoff, "What-"

"This is about to be your eleventh question since we've been here." Gojo cuts off before giving you a comforting little smile, "Relax, everything will be fine, okay? Trust me."

Your lips purse together as you decide to drop all your questions for now.

Both of you continue walking deeper and deeper into the party, the volume of the music soon engulfing almost all of your senses. People were dancing all over the place, you saw a few drinking games taking place, some people were gathered together smoking, and it was all so lively.

While you walked with Gojo, you couldn't help but notice the way girls gawked at the man beside you, their eyes all over his face, and jealousy noticed in their expressions after they spotted you beside him. What made the whole thing better was the fact that Gojo didn't even glance at them.

The only woman whose eyes he ever looks into is yours. The only person's body he's drooling over is yours. Hell, the only person at this party Gojo even cared about was you.

At some point, he stopped to talk to some people he knew and you just stood quietly by his side. Gojo would give the people he spoke to this murderous glare if they even so much as peeked at you.

You wondered if you imagined the looks he gave some guys up until one was caught staring at your cleavage by Gojo. The man beside you tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, "Fuck are you starin' at?" He spat out.

You were oblivious to what was going on at first until you saw who he was talking to; some weirdo leaning against a wall gawking at woman after woman. When he noticed Gojo was talking to him you watched how he immediately teared his eyes off you.

Gojo then dragged you along, making his way toward a dance floor. You looked up at him, "You look like you're gonna stab someone...." You said playfully, mocking him for the wicked look in his eyes.

He smiles and that look completely disappears, almost as if it were never there, to begin with. Meeting your gaze, Gojo pouts, "Who, me?"

"Yes you, don't try to act all innocent."

He snickers, "Stabing isn't the way I'd go about hurting someone but, alright."

"People stare at me all the time, y'know... You can't keep glaring like that." You say, looking away from him, "Especially when I'm not even your girlfriend or anything."

"So?" Gojo scoffs, "I don't like seeing people look at you like that and I couldn't care less if you aren't my girlfriend," He suddenly leans down to you and his eyes go dark again, "You're by my side, in my arms..." He explains lowly, "And even if it's not reciprocated, you're my love."

You stare, seeing the same look he had in his eyes that day he caught you, the same look he gave you when he said he wanted you. Gulping, you try to respond, "Satoru-,"

"I'm serious. They can look at any other chick in this party, just not you. Especially not when you're with me." Gojo claims.

"That's a bit possessive don't you think?" You point out, halfway joking.

"Oh, trust me," He smiles as if it's no big deal, "I'm aware."

You open your mouth to say something but he suddenly leans up and takes his arm off you, "Anyways, I'm pretty sure you'll find Sukuna somewhere in all that," He instructs, nodding toward the group of people dancing and shouting on the main floor. He starts backing away from you, "Text me if you don't though."

"You're leaving me?" You say dumbfoundedly.

"Well, Sukuna can't spot us together..."

"Right." Your lips purse together and you nod, the two of you finally splitting for the first time that night.

The music is so loud that you can feel the vibrations from the base of your toes as you walk into the crowd. You steadily begin to dance by yourself for a moment and at one point you get a drink to help you loosen up.

You didn't plan to overdo it or anything because the last thing you wanted was to be horny and drunk all over again but, you did get enough to give you a little buzz. The smell of weed was strong throughout the dancefloor and you would've partaken in that too but you definitely don't trust drugs from just anyone.

As your body sways with the music, you end up dancing back into some guy on accident but when you try to move, hands go to your waist and your hips, immediately making you uncomfortable. You tried not to make a scene about this random man touching you, casually trying to dance away from him.

Your body language made it so painfully obvious that you didn't want this guy touching on you and you eventually turned your head back to him, noticing that it was the same person Gojo snapped at earlier.

That realization caused goosebumps to form all over your skin and you tried telling the man to back off you. He definitely heard you but clearly ignored you, going as far as groping your ass and creepily smiling at you.

You grit your teeth and elbow the weirdo back away from you, creating only a bit of distance between you and him since there are so many people around. The creep still misses the hint and tries to come close to you again.

In the blink of your eye, one second he was trying to come to touch you again and the next you saw a fist make contact with his jaw, a crack heard even through the music as his body stumbled to the side and then made contact with the floor.

Your eyes went wide at the sight and some people around you cheered. Was getting punched in the jaw like this some kind of regular occurrence? Why were people cheering and laughing so suddenly?

The guy was out cold on the floor, people dancing around his still body as you stood in shock.

The person who punched the fuck out of him was standing where he once was and you turned around to face the guy.

Your heart probably skipped fourteen beats at the sight in front of you. Towering over your smaller frame, smiling maliciously at the motionless body on the ground, with dark yet attractive tattoos decorating his handsome face, bright pink hair, and harsh maroon eyes, Sukuna stood proudly before you.

You batted your eyes at the man, in complete awe of everything about him. The shirt he wore was sleeveless, revealing even more tattoos that went along his large shoulder, his bicep, and his wrist.

With a snarky laugh, you watch as he then disrespectfully spits on the knocked-out man's body, "Disgusting." Sukuna hummed.

Those sharp and surprisingly scary eyes of his snap over to you, the only person shocked by what just happened. The smile that was once spread across his face drops completely when he looks at you. You can feel every hair on your head stand up as you meet his gaze, your spine goes rigid and you think you start sweating.

Sukuna turns to face you and takes a simple step toward your nervous body, tipping his torso down and toward you so that he can be at eye level with you. You think you stop breathing entirely.

Why the fuck is he so intimidating? Why did he stop smiling? Why does he look like he's about to punch you next? Your heart is pounding against your ribcage and you don't think any man has ever made you this utterly nervous from just a glance before.

His rose-tinted lips part and his voice is so low and deep you could feel your body getting tense, "This is the part where you say thank you."

You blink, "Th-Thanks." You hated yourself for stuttering.

He tutts, "Nono, not 'thanks', thank you, brat."  Sukuna corrects.

"Thank you," You say, your voice small.

He smiles at you, the sight making your heart race. A sexy and slightly raspy chuckle leaves the male, "Thaaat's more like it, good girl."

A strong throb of arousal thrums in your core at the sound of his words. It's embarrassing how such a simple phrase has you turned on already.

It was at that very moment you realized that this man was going to be different than the rest. Not Choso level different and not in any romantic sense but, the small conversation and his aura made one thing very clear.

Sukuna was in a league of his own. This man was a damn beast and you were both scared and excited to explore that.

GOJO SATORU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

GETO SUGURU ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮

ITADORI SUKUNA ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

NANAMI KENTO ☐ 𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: ???

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

#the f*ck list #the fuck list #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo x reader #choso x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #sukuna x reader #naoya x reader #geto x reader #gojo satoru x reader #geto suguru x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #nanami kento x reader #choso kamo x reader #kamiverse #kamiversee #smut fic #jjk smut #gojo smut #geto smut #choso smut #toji smut

[etfrin]

❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — second chapter | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Coriolanus is his own warning, elitism

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus Snow meets his tribute and lands on a cage and then a car ride with his girl <33

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 i never tasted orange chicken but since @nowitsmissing likes it, that means it's good and worthy for Coryo to eat

Series Masterlist | Navigation | previous chapter!

“I wouldn't sing a note for you if I were her!” - Coriolanus reminded himself of Tigris's words as he waited for the train to arrive. Besides a handful of peacekeepers, he was the only one standing in the train station, waiting for the tributes to come.

He wasn't going to lie to himself, he was terrified. He wasn't sure if he was breaking any rules as he stood and waited. The academy hadn't sanctioned this, but they didn't tell the mentors what to do or not to do either.

It's not his fault he's getting a headstart.

Though he was surprised that you weren't here, waiting. He glees internally. He had already one-upped you and was going to continue to do so.

Snow lands on top.

He was going to be five steps ahead of everyone. No one can take the Plinth Prize away from him and he's going to make this ‘Lucy Gray’ won't either.

If not a winner, she'll create a fine spectacle for the Capitol, with her snakes and voice. Even if some part of him was terrified of her, leave it to Dean Highbottom that he got an insane tribute.

And of course, leave it to Dean Highbottom that he gave you someone who has actual chances of winning. And of the same district too, as if trying to push them both into a battle with each other.

It was highly annoying. It felt like Dean Highbottom was mocking him with this. Dangling a carrot in front of him and expecting him to take the bait and snap. But he won't. You weren't going to win this, and Dean Highbottom won't be getting the satisfaction of the Snows' falling.

Finally, the train had arrived, and with it came his Lucy Gray Baird. She was a girl with a rainbow frilly dress and a mess of brown curls. She was pretty (not as much as you) and had a certain accent when she came to him, asking who he was.

“I am Coriolanus Snow,” he begins to introduce himself with a warm tone, “and I am your mentor.”

He holds a white rose in his hand, pushing his arm forward to offer it to her. A part of him watches in horror as she spews nonsense and tears a petal from the beautiful rose and eats it.

She eats it and smiles at him, “Tastes like bedtime.”

A part of him was horrified, his mind solidifying the fact that Lucy Gray was truly insane. But a part of his mind went back to yesterday when you had taken off a petal of the red rose.

When you had crushed it between your fingers, the red juices of the petal pigmented your fingertips. He wonders if he could take the digits in his mouth and clear your skin of the taint if it would taste delicious with the flavor of your skin. If it-

His thoughts were interrupted by Lucy Gray (damn her!). “What does a mentor do besides bringing me flowers?” Her voice calls him out.

He tried hard not to frown or snap at her. He controls his voice, depriving it of the annoyance he feels as he replies, “I try my best to help you win.”

She hums in response. And before he could continue the conversation, the peacekeepers came in to sweep the tributes into a truck. He tried to keep pace and asked for permission if it was alright to enter but was ignored. So when a distraction was caused by a tribute trying to run (foolish, foolish boy), he entered the truck.

He was being stared at by them all as if he was the animal, and not them. All of the tributes looked more or less filthy, sick, and District. It seemed like only Lucy Gray bothered to somewhat take care of her appearance, with her bizarre make-up and rainbow dress.

Soon enough, he was pinned by a black boy, named Reaper. Everyone around him yelling to kill him, cheering him on, goading him on. Lucy Gray decided to prove herself to be useful to Coriolanus. She was the one speaking up about how if he died, their families would be hurt and that she might need him.

Despite many protests and not being convinced to leave him alone, they couldn't do anything about especially when suddenly the truck gates swung open, and then bam!

Light sweeps in and everyone loses their balance. Falling onto bare, rough ground, landing onto a cage. Coriolanus barely managed to stand up before he realized where he was. A zoo, a fitting place for district animals but not for him. Not only that, he was surrounded by people and cameras.

With his luck, this was probably broadcast live. He felt panic rush in his veins, his mouth drying up and his hands getting sweaty. He was going to make a fool out of himself in front of all of Panem, Sejanus, and You.

No, wait, you were there. His wide, panicking eyes find yours. Just like him, you were in your academy uniform. But you were outside the cage and he was in it.

Never on the same side. You and he.

He could feel his body shaking, an anxiety attack beginning with his breaths becoming shorter and shorter. Just then he could see you form the words, ‘Own it. Own it, Coryo.’ He nods in reply, his mind quietening as he becomes focused on a task.

The Capitol wanted a show, he was going to give them one.

He snaps off the stem of the rose and places it on Lucy Gray's ear. He will never know how your eyes glared at him for that action. He takes her hand his, swallowing the disgust about the fact he was touching District.

“Lucy Gray, let me introduce you to my neighbors,” he said as he dragged her in front of the cameras. The girl had been smart so far, if she knew what was good for her, she would continue acting like that.

He goes near Flickerman, the guy with the microphone and you were standing there beside him. Your arms crossed in front of your chest, your eyebrows raised in an unimpressed way. He only shrugged in response before giving his attention to the cameras.

He lets Lucy Gray sweet talk to the camera. She was polite and playful, playing into the hearts of the Capitol citizens with ease. Then the cameras turn to him, and before Flickerman asks him why he is in the cage. He isn't sure what to answer.

As if you could sense his panic, you immediately take the attention of him with your reply. “That's Coryo for you. Always making an impression. You should look forward to him. And his tribute,” your eyes turn to look at Lucy Gray, a hint of poisonous hate in your look that was hidden by the fake warmth of your smile.

“And you should be looking forward to my tribute too, Jessup Diggs.” You added as you stole the show with your sweet words. The broadcast ended with Flickerman praising you for your encouraging words despite the fact you and Snow were rivals.

He grits his teeth as he is dragged into a car by the peacekeepers. He supposed he was going to be taken to the Academy. He sat in the back seat, waiting for the car to start. He wished he would go there before lunch began, he hadn't breakfast. He couldn't have those damn cabbages again, he would rather tie the shower curtain around his neck.

The car door opens and you slip inside, sitting beside him. His breath hitches as he takes in the scent of your perfume. The heat of your body sweeps into his as your arm brushes against him. “You're crazy,” you said, not looking at him but the ruins of the Capitol outside the window. The car had started to drive back to the Academy.

“For getting a headstart,” he replied, “it's not crazy if it's smart.”

“Smart,” you mock, you turn to him, your face twisted in anger. You spit out, “It's not smart if you die, Snow! Those animals could have done anything to you! During the ride! During the cage! Do you think the cameras or the people would have stopped them? Fuck no and for what? A headstart!? It was stupid.”

Coriolanus blinks as he sees your childish tantrum. He was sure it was because he was going to be the talk of Panem, and not because you had genuine concern for him. He doesn't reply anything to you, despite feeling offended that you called him stupid.

He had been caught off guard, but he wasn't stupid. He furrows his eyebrows but keeps quiet. The silence was heated, and awkward. But it continues to persist, that's until his stomach growls, reminding him of his uneaten cabbage soup.

He felt his body flush in embarrassment. He begins to think of excuses to explain the loud growl but before he can even think of anything, a box is handed to him. You had taken something out of your bag and just set it on his lap along with a plastic spoon.

“It's not poisoned,” was the only thing you said, your eyes now back at the window.

“I sure hope so,” he replied, his voice controlled and his mind glad that you didn't glance at him to see his red face.

He opens up the box to see rice and orange chicken. He devours it as manner fully as he can. It took him a lot of self-control not to moan with each bite. It was that good. Perhaps his mind was subconsciously biased because it was by you. He didn't linger much on that thought.

But his touch did linger when he handed you back the box. He didn't thank you and you didn't ask for one. Neither of you said a word as your fingers laced together with his.

Neither of you said a word when your hand squeezed his, tightly. A warning not to act stupid again.

Neither of you needed to.

Both of you reached the Academy and Coriolanus stepped out of the car.

Time to face the consequences of his actions.

Next Chapter

Taglist : @tristanswildcat @alllriseabove @sushirolliee

@masimptoowth @ppcowboyprincess @lauravanderbooben20 @captainbabybear

@linkcommercial831 @write-from-the-heart

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#character x reader #x you #x reader #x female reader #oneshot #fem reader #scenario #tbosas smut #thg tbosas #tbosas fanfiction #tbosas x reader #tbosas #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the ballad of songbirds and snakes movie #president coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus smut #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #coriolanus snow x reader smut #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow smut #coriolanus snow x female!reader #coriolanus snow x you #dystopian fiction #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games #Sejanus Plinth #lucy gray baird

[loeyparker]

safe - e.m. 1/3

summary: you and eddie see eachother for the first time after you broke the friendship to protect him from the upside down

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

word count: 4.7k

warnings: mentions of drugs, strong language, mentions of violence, throwing things

tags: no s4 spoilers, friends to enemies to lovers-ish, angst

a/n: i would die for each and everyone of u who supported this, no joke

(  NEXT CHAPTER  )

Eddie Munson sat on a lounge chair by the pool, unlit cigarette hanging by the corner of his mouth. His metal lunchbox stood by his boots, on the stoned ground. His right leg bounced up and down with quickness, his fingers fiddled with the rings on his right hand.

Strands of uncombed, curly hair fell in his face, covering a portion of his darkened eyes. He sat slouched, elbows resting on his knees.

His eyes were locked on the crowd inside the house, which could be clearly seen through the glass double doors leading to the pool.

“Man, what you dressed as?” A dull voice drew out, approaching the boy.

Eddie pursed his lips in annoyance.

From inside the house, Michael Jackson’s Beat It played loudly and unforgiving of the neighbors who might had been trying to sleep.

“Just a guy on business, man. You want something?” Eddie monotonously asked, already bored of the entire ordeal. While he was used to parties, used to the motions of attending them just to sell his stuff for an easy buck, on that particular night Eddie was annoyed.

“Yeah, lemme see how much cash I got. Hold on.”

Eddie wasn’t sure what had annoyed him exactly.

Maybe it was the simple fact that he was attending a party of ’85 graduates – he was supposed to be one of them, but fate wanted him to go through the motions of senior year for three years in a row instead of two.

Or, maybe, it was the call he’d gotten a few hours prior from The Hideout’s management, canceling his band’s performance of the week for another stupid event. It wasn’t as if missing a week of performing would realistically damage his band in any way, but Eddie hated when his plans were derailed.

But truthfully, what had annoyed Eddie Munson the most that night was seeing you in the crowd of the party, dancing to Michael Jackson with Steve Harrington – and Robin Buckley, but Eddie honestly hadn’t seen her.

Eddie grabbed his stash, opening the box with a screech of the rusted metal. “The ounce is 50.” He spoke, glancing at the jock ahead of him.

“Ah, man. How much is half?”

“25.” Eddie sniffled, the cold of the night getting to him.

As the jock dug around his pockets more, Eddie found his eyes drifting back to the crowd – back to you.

Despite there being about ten other people crammed around you, Eddie’s eyes found your shape with ease and quickness. But, to Eddie’s defense, it was hard not to spot you.

A strapped white dress laid tight over your body, its satin fabric shining slightly in the lights of the living room. A diamond diadem was on top of your head, over the now straight locks of hair. From the crown of your head, blood traced over the sides of your face, past your nose and over your lips, all the way down your neck. Some trickles of blood went into your exposed cleavage, others stained over your dress completely.

Eddie knew immediately that you were dressed as Carrie.

His eyes could only seem to focus on the way your hips swayed to the music, on your hair wildly flailing around as you moved, on the way you leaned with each beat.

Beat it, and you were leaning backwards, head thrown back, neck on display – Steve Harrington leaning forward and closer to you.

Beat it, and you leaned forward, chest down, shoulders moving, lower lip in-between your teeth, biting back a smile – Steve leaned backwards, head thrown as he laughed.

Beat it, and you leaned back again, this time laughing. It seemed as if you and Steve had an entire routine down, and Eddie couldn’t help but scoff. The way you danced was effortless and mesmerizing – but Eddie expected no less, especially since he’d seen you dance in his trailer countless times before. You had also been a cheerleader in high school, so it was not surprising that your moves managed to get the attention of everyone in the vicinity.

His eyes met yours after you’d been spun by Robin and it felt like the world ceased to spin for a moment. The song faded from both your ears, Eddie couldn’t hear the jock trying to buy half an ounce from him, you couldn’t feel Tina bumping into you on the dance floor.

Eddie wore a black hoodie with a jean vest on top. His bangs covered a portion of his eyes, along with a couple of loose strands falling out of the hood. He was brooding and he was far from you, but when your eyes met it felt as if he was breathing down your neck. Your chest tightened, your knees buckled and he didn’t tear his gaze away from you.

Sweet Dreams began playing throughout the house, its imposing bass bringing your feet back on the ground.

With his eyes on you, Eddie then rose his left hand to his shoulder, tapping it lightly with his index finger. Instinctively, you touched your own right shoulder, feeling it too bare, all of a sudden. With your thumb resting on your collar bone and the rest of your fingers gently brushing over the exposed shoulder, you realized the strap of your dress had slipped down.

Eddie smirked – a small, almost unnoticeable movement of his mouth and yet, a motion that made the apples of your cheeks to grow slightly hotter. Quickly, you pulled your dress back up, broke eye contact with Eddie and pushed your way out of the dance floor and towards the kitchen – you were in desperate need of a drink.

Steve Harrington followed you.

“Got the money, man?” Eddie mumbled, the cigarette pressing against his lips. Reaching into his back pocket, he pulled a beat-up lighter and lit his cigarette. The lighter clanked when he shut its lid.

“Yeah, yeah, right here.” The jock handed Eddie two bills – a 20 and a 5. Eddie shoved them in his pocket, then handed the blond guy a bag, no words exchanged. “Thanks, man.” The bag was snatched out of the metalhead’s hand, and the jock disappeared back inside the house.

Eddie rubbed a hand over his face, cigarette butt between his fingers. The smoke veiled his nose and burnt the back of his throat, but he didn’t mind it. He was used to it – loved it. Glancing at his watch, he tried to justify his sudden need to leave the party. He’d only been there for half an hour; it was crazy that he was already bored.

But maybe seeing you with Harrington was enough to push him over the edge.

Deep in thought, hand over his face, Eddie didn’t hear heels clanking against the pavement, approaching him with determination.

“You okay?” Your voice made him freeze. Ash from his cigarette hit the ground and he could feel his heart beats making the veins in his neck pump harder. His hard trailed down his neck as he supported his head, glancing up at you.

He scoffed. “Yeah, just, uh,” he trailed off, a bitter smile on his lips. A short sizzling sound filled the air as he took a drag out of his cigarette, blowing smoke up in the air.

“What?” Your lips parted and a chill ran down your spine. The October air was unkind to your Halloween attire, but you refused to go back inside.

Eddie raised his eyebrows comically, the corners of his mouth turned down, he shrugged. With a head shake, he looked away from you. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He finally asked, tone condescending.

“I come with a peace offering.” You smiled softly, holding up two cans of Eddie’s favorite beer. Again, he puffed and looked away from you in disbelief. The beer was an olive branch he was unsure of grabbing, especially after what happened the last time you two spoke.

“Thought you wanted me to leave you alone.” His voice was stoic, low.

You pursed your lips, taking a slow step closer to him. “I’m sorry, I was…” you switched your weight from one foot to the other. “I was young, and stupid, and,”

“Power hungry?” Eddie bit back. “Conformist? Fake?”

You looked away, eyes pointed towards the starry sky. There was a hollow feeling in your chest, only becoming deeper as Eddie spoke. You didn’t blame Eddie for viewing you that way. From his point of view, you stopped being his friend soon after making the cheer team and becoming friends with Steve Harrington and the popular crowd.  

You went from hanging out on a daily basis, to Eddie not seeing you for almost a month. You had stopped answering his calls and he was sick of your mom answering the phone and telling him some phony excuse – oh, Eddie, darling; she’s at Nancy’s, you just missed her. She’s at the Byers, poor them. She’s got cheer practice today, won’t be home ‘till late.

He was sick of it, especially because he knew it was all bullshit.

On the day you were supposed to be at practice, he saw you in town buying bear traps with Jonathan Byers and Nancy Wheeler. When he was told you were at Nancy’s, he saw you in Byers’ car late at night, driving through the town.

And then school was closed for a week due to a gas leak, and you had dropped off the face of the Earth. He sometimes drove past your house in the hope of seeing you, but your curtains were always shut, light never on. Unbeknown to him, you had spent the entire week either by Will’s side at the hospital, or with Mike, who was upset over Eleven “dying”. Being Will’s babysitter, you felt personally responsible for the boy’s disappearance. You had been with Eddie that night, at a concert in Indianapolis – how could you not feel guilty?

But Eddie didn’t know any of that, and you decided you were never going to tell him. The Upside Down, the government’s involvement – it was all too much, too dangerous. Unmarked cars had followed you for a month after the entire ordeal, secret agents watching your every move.

And you couldn’t have Eddie involved in all that.

So, you avoided him for as long as possible. You started sitting at the jock’s table with Steve and Nancy, your spot at his table remaining empty. Jonathan started driving you to school and you spent your free time in the library or at practice. You avoided his eyes at lunch and turned from him in the hallways.

You called him a freak and told him to leave you alone on the day he tried to confront you about your behavior.

“The fuck is up with you?” Eddie frowned, letting go of your arm. You backed away, heart racing.

“I just think we should just focus on our social groups and status.” You spoke after taking a deep breath. “We’re different people now, we’re not kids anymore.”

“You wanna stop being friends, is that it?” Eddie frowned, rising up to his feet. He towered over you with ease, and you straightened your back, keeping his gaze.

“Yes.”

Both your stomachs dropped at your words.

Your nose and throat stung as you watched Eddie’s gaze turn sour, his lips settling into a scowl. He had never looked at you like that, in all the years of knowing you. In his eyes, in that moment, you saw nothing but disgust.

“Fine.” He had simply said.

You gave him a sharp nod and quickly turned around, eyes focused on Jonathan waiting for you in his car. He had seen the entire interaction and watched you with concerned eyes – but he also understood. “Don’t think for one fuckin’ second I would want to be friends with the new mean, popular conformist sheep of Hawkins High, anyway!” Eddie yelled after you, his voice becoming higher and croaky.

You got into Jonathan’s car without sparing Eddie another glance, and tears spewed down your cheeks the moment you were out of the school’s parking lot.

You had managed to last two years without talking to Eddie.

Two years during which your anxiety worsened, your popularity increased and the Upside Down became more threatening.

“Yeah,” You gave a weak chuckle, eyes back on Eddie. “I guess.” Music still blared from inside. You could only focus on the way the pool lights danced over his features. He had matured since the last time you’d seen him up-close. His jaw was more defined, cheeks more sculpted.

A moment of silence passed between you two as he took another drag. There was a slit in your dress, he noticed. It allowed his eyes to wonder up your barely exposed thigh – and you watched him look.

“What changed?” He asked, eyes snapping up at yours.

The gate closed, you thought. And you missed him. But, quite frankly, you were also exhausted. Exhausted of running away from your feelings for the boy and from the anxieties of your new reality and you needed an escape.

“Suddenly gained back consciousness?” Eddie continued – which actually pissed you off. He was condescending and mean and yeah, you might have hurt him two years ago, but you did it to save him. You saved him and you suffered and he thought you were some mean, brainwashed girl.

And in that moment, your exhaustion and stubbornness overpowered your lingering feelings for your once best friend. You placed the beer cans on a small glass table by the chairs. Your arms folded to your chest, fake blood smearing off your hands and onto the white, satin dress. “I wanna buy.” You spoke, clearing your voice. “Not weed, something stronger.”

Eddie frowned.

Bending forward, he pushed the cigarette into the ground, putting it out. “No.” He spoke, looking up at you through his fringe.

Your eyes widened slightly, lips parted. “What?”

“I’m not selling you shit.”

A bitter laugh left your mouth. Your tongue ran over your bottom lip and Eddie watched your every move. “Wow, you hate me that much, huh? Did I hurt your ego so bad that you can’t let go of a fight two years later?”

With a sharp move, Eddie got up on his feet.

He towered over you with ease, despite the heels on your feet. His eyes were stoic, harsh. One step, and his chest almost touched yours. Your feet remained plastered on the ground, not being intimidated by the man in the slightest.

On the contrary, you were comforted.

His presence was something you had missed, his proximity craved. Having his cologne and smoky breath filling your senses once more was a high you didn’t know you longed for until then.

“Do you even know me, at all?” Eddie whispered, eyes studying your face. Since last seeing you, a scar appeared on the left side of your temple, your eyes darkened. Your lips got plumper, your perfume sweeter.

“Better than I know myself.” You replied, chest rising up and down with more intensity.

Eddie tutted, shaking his head. “I don’t think you do.” His tongue ran over his lips. “I think you have me confused for Harrington.” He spat, bitterly. And then his right hand cupped your face, thumb and index finger pressing into your cheeks, holding your face in place. You tried to move in annoyance, but he didn’t let you. “If I hated you, I would’ve taken you to my place, sold you my strongest shit for easy cash. But I don’t hate you, do I?” His fingers pressed harder, eyes stuck on yours. “That’s the problem, Y/L/N. I don’t hate you.” He let go of your face with quickness, taking a step back.

He bent down to pick up his lunchbox as you took in a deep breath.

“I need the drugs, Eddie.” You pleaded, watching his every move. “Don’t make me beg.”

Eddie sucked in a deep breath. “Go back to the party, Y/N.” He walked past you without a second glance, and you found yourself reaching out for him. Upon the contact he paused, back turned to you.

“Just this once, and then you’ll never see me again. Please.”

“I can’t.”

You let go of his arm, taking a step back. “Great.” You laughed bitterly. “Great. You won’t take my beer, won’t sell me drugs…I’m out of options here.”

“Y/N, what’s this about?” Eddie frowned, turning to you once again.

You laughed.

He grew worried.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged, the movement exaggerated, comical even. Your arms flailed sideways, then met in a clap. “I guess I just need something to fill the big, black hole in my chest.” You laughed again, finding the situation genuinely funny. "Drugs seem like the only option at this point, and you have 'em!"

Eddie, on the other hand, was worried. He’d never seen you like that. And while you hurt him deeply two years prior, he couldn’t stop caring about you. No matter what he did, you were always on his mind and part of him always believed you’d return to him.

He just never thought it’d be like this.

“Wanna come with me?” He found himself asking. He couldn’t tell if you were drunk, or high on something – or genuinely upset. He just knew you couldn’t be left alone in that moment.

You took his hand with no hesitation, and he walked you to his van.

Inside, you almost sunk into the seat. You had spent so much time in that seat before, that just being inside Eddie’s van felt like home. Tears stung your eyes as Eddie revved the ignition, and so you had to turn away.

Eddie didn’t know what to say.

He just couldn’t believe you were in his van again, and you were wearing the prettiest dress in the world, looking breathtakingly gorgeous.

"Sorry I'm acting crazy." You mumbled, eyes on the view outside. "I'm just a little bit overwhelmed, you know? Still mentally stuck at Starcourt."

Eddie pursed his lips. He also felt stuck there, to some extent.

Eddie had been close to the mall that night, dealing out of his van to some jock.

He watched as three firetrucks rode by, followed by around five or six ambulances. He saw the helicopters in the sky and the large, army-looking trucks passing just moments after the emergency vehicles. The jock ran to his own car and drove off, scared by the commotion, by the army presence and the weed in his possession.

Eddie, on the other hand, followed the vehicles out of nothing but morbid curiosity because – what now? What could cause such a scene in the small, quiet Hawkins, less than a year after the disappearance of the century?

Arriving at Starcourt, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

The large mall stood burning, covered in the flashing lights of emergency vehicles. There were soldiers surrounding the outskirts of the place, with firemen and paramedics rushing among them. 

He saw Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Byers getting into an ambulance, he saw a bloodied Steve Harrington clutching a blanket over his shoulders, protectively standing by someone’s side – by your side, more specifically.

You were sitting in an ambulance, feet dangling over the wet ground. Eddie remembers the feeling in his chest, the hollowness and panic that overcame him at your sight. A paramedic was checking your wounds, another placed a deep blue blanket over your shoulders. Eddie left his van with quickness, feet carrying him towards you mindlessly. His hair was dampening in the rain, his socks got wet as his sneakers stepped into puddles.

He couldn't understand what you were doing there, couldn't understand how you sustained your injuries. You looked like hell - exhausted and covered in blood.

Eddie was desperate to get to you that night, but two soldiers stopped him before he could get close. And all he could do was watch as you spoke to Joyce Byers, then burst into tears. Steve wrapped his arms around you in an instant, and you sobbed into his shoulder, hands clutching onto his shirt.

The sounds of your sobs along with the sirens and the helicopters flying up above were sounds that hunted Eddie to this day.

Back in the van with you by his side, Eddie sighed. "I get it." Was all he could mutter. "It's okay to act crazy sometimes, though." He added after a brief moment of silence.

"Is it?"

"Hell yeah. It releases tension." The boy glanced at you quickly, eyes meeting once again. He felt short of breath. "I act crazy all the time, and aren't I carefree?" Eddie joked further.

You puffed. "Very carefree." Eddie nodded. "Never angry."

"Never." He frowned jokingly, looking at you again.

You smiled.

"I might be biased, though." He spoke back up, not looking away from you. The van had stopped at a red light, so he could focus on you entirely. "You know how attracted I am to craziness."

Pursing your glossy lips, you looked down at your lap. A blush threatened to form on your cheeks as you felt Eddie's gaze on you. Time had caused you to forget just how intoxicating his gaze was, and now that you had it once again, you felt strange. Nervous.

Giddy almost.

“Do you still listen to Blondie?” He changed the subject when the light turned green.

“Yeah.” You quickly cleared your throat before turning to Eddie. “But, can I tell you a secret?” You asked, biting your lip.

Eddie glanced at you quickly, before looking back at the road. “Of course.”

“I started listening to Black Sabbath, too.”

Eddie almost crashed the car into a couple of trashcans on the side of the road. “You did not!” He exclaimed, wide eyes looking at you.

You laughed. “I did!”

“And?” He drew out, expectantly.

“And they’re not half bad.”

Eddie drummed his hands on the wheel, causing your grin to widen. He was also smiling and for a moment, it was as if nothing bad had happened between you. “Not half bad?” He exclaimed theatrically. “They’re one of the greatest bands of our generation!”

“Eh, they’re no Beatles.” You teased, head leaning back into the seat, eyes on Eddie.

“I’ll crash the car right now.” He joked, making you laugh. And he couldn’t help but allow his eyes to linger on you for a second too long because man, you were pretty. And his heart only ached, knowing that you were probably in love with Harrington and you had only talked to Eddie to get drugs.

His mood soured at the thought and he was suddenly glad your house was close to Tina’s. The drive from the party to your home hadn’t taken longer than ten minutes, and he decided this would be the last time he’d be in your vicinity. Because within ten minutes, you managed to have him wrapped around your finger again and he knew – he knew that once you sobered up the next day, you’d go back to your pristine life and forget about him again.

He couldn’t go through senior year again, again and again. It was enough that he had to repeat the damn year at school, he didn’t wanna do it emotionally as well.

"Why are we at my house?" You asked, confused.

Eddie sighed. "You're upset, and messed up. I couldn’t exactly leave you at the party.” He gripped the steering wheel as he pulled onto your driveway – something he used to do so often long before.

“Wow, thanks.” You snapped, then opened the door.

Eddie was quick to lean over you, shutting the door back up. “What the fuck?” You retorted, feeling his chest against your thighs.

“Why did you come up to me tonight?” He asked, sitting back in his spot. “Was it really just for drugs? I have to know.”

“Maybe I missed you.”

“That’s bullshit.” He puffed, rolling his eyes.

“What? Is that so hard to believe?” Your voice rose slightly.

“Uh, yeah, since you were the one who dumped me!”

“I didn’t dump you!” You grabbed a cassette off his dashboard, chucking it at the man. He dodged with ease.

“You threw me to the curb because, what? You found out Harrington was better? Popularity tasted better than being associated with the freak?” His voice boomed.  

“Steve has nothing to do with this!”

Eddie laughed bitterly. “Right, go ahead, defend him.”

“You’re such an asshole.” You scoffed. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I am messed up, since I thought talking to you would be a good idea.” And again, you turned towards the door.

“That’s right, go. Run, as always.”

Your hand froze on the handle as anger bubbled in your chest. “For the record, I don’t run. I never ran from anything in my life.”

“Yeah, only from one thing.”

It seemed as if Eddie had a firing shot for everything you said – and he did. Because the fight had been brewing for two years, along with the tension caused by unspoken words. There were many things on Eddie Munson’s mind, and he wanted to say them all. “From me.”

Another cassette flew his way.

“I didn’t run from you! I saved you!” You shouted, angry.

“From what? Having to attend your cheer competitions? Meeting your popular friends?” He shouted back, equally angry.

“Oh my God! There’s more to life than high school shit! This isn’t about social status, you asshole! I saved your fuckin’ life!” Another cassette. “Saved you from death!” Another cassette was in the air, when Eddie grabbed both your wrists into his hands.

“What are you talking about?” His face was inches from you, hair unruly from the hood that had slipped off.

The cassette fell out of your hand and onto his lap.

“I don’t wanna fight you, okay?” Your voice became quiet all of a sudden – yet, your chest still moved with quickness. “You gotta understand that all I wanted was for you to be safe.”

“Safe from what?” His hands then let go of your wrists, instead moving to hold your face, thumbs resting by the corners of your mouth. With free hands, you placed them over his wrists, overwhelmed by the proximity. "Talk to me, Y/N. Just for once, talk."

“From bad stuff, okay? Safe from life threatening stuff.”

“You’re involved in life threatening stuff?” His thumbs gently went over your bottom lip as you nodded. “You don’t have to protect me, Indiana Jones.” You let out a short laugh at his nickname, causing the inkling of a smile to thug at his own lips. “If you’re involved, I’m simply involved by association. There’s no you without me, remember? And vice versa.”

You shook your head. “Not with this. I can handle myself, but you’re just a nerd with a guitar.” You joked, sly smile on your lips.

He chuckled. “And you’re a dancer with pompons.” His eyes moved from your eyes to your lips, then back up.

“Who kicks ass.”

His eyebrows shot up. “Oh, you do?”

“Mhm. I’m sort of a…Wonder Woman out in the field.”

The right corner of his mouth turned upwards. His thumbs still stroked over your lips, pressing onto them ever so slightly. His eyes, as they traced your features, landed on a scar that stood on the left side of your temple. It had yet to heal and suddenly, Eddie felt the hidden heaviness of your words.

His mind flashed back to Starcourt, then to Hopper’s funeral for a brief moment, and he remembered the bandages on your right arm, the busted lip, the bruises and scars on your face. Most had healed by Halloween, but they still lingered on his mind.

“Tell me what’s going on.” He asked.

You shook your head, hands leaving his wrists.

“Please, I wanna help.”

You shook your head again, pulling away from his touch.

“Who hurt you last summer?” Eddie asked as his hands fell off your face.

“I can’t, Eddie.” Your voice cracked as you opened the passenger’s door. “Just, forget we talked.” You spoke as you left his van, rushing up the stairs to your house, without sparing him another glance.

And Eddie could only sit and watch you run from him again, just as you had done two years prior, after breaking your friendship.

Only this time, Eddie wasn’t going to let you go.

#eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #stranger things 4 #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x fem!reader #strangerthings #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson imagines

[weasleyreidstyles]

Serendipity

chapter eleven

summary: it was only meant to be a purely transactional relationship. he would help her strengthen her abilities in return for her getting his friends out of his father's nasty path. he didn't mean to fall for her, but loving her was the easiest thing in his dark world.

no use of y/n, but your general nickname is Meadow. all characters are aged up to be over 18.

pairings: mattheo riddle x fem!ravenclaw reader; platonic!slytherins x fem!reader; platonic!golden trio x fem!reader

warning(s): fighting, mentions blood, more angst lol

series masterlist; previous part; next part

The three of you sit in varying states of unrest beside Ron's hospital bed.

Hermione was still gripping his hand, as if her touch would entice him to wake up; Ginny was throwing a ball against the nearest wall as she quietly chatted to Mione, ignoring the glares of annoyance from the matron every time her ball made a thwack sound against the stone; you were sat on one of the uncomfortable chairs, a copy of 'Mythical Lore' in your lap, your eyes darting to and from Ron's chest to check that he was still breathing. Harry was Merlin knows where, but you knew he'd be back soon, never willing to leave his friends in distress for too long.

It had been like this for hours. Your tears had dried up and your anger had simmered away slowly; all that was left was the hollow feeling of helplessness and despair as you sat there.

Helpless against the poison that was slowly leaving Ron's bloodstream.

Helpless against forces that harmed your friends.

Helpless to whatever was happening to you.

A monster is what you were. A mythical, dangerous monster. Your gut churned with unease.

The somewhat peaceful atmosphere was interrupted as the doors to the Hospital Wing behind you burst open in a flurry that alerted Madame Pomfrey instantly.

"What is the meaning of this?" she said to whoever had appeared in the doorway. You swivelled in your seat to see, noting Ginny's incredulous look and Hermione's annoyed one, which could only mean one thing.

"Where is my Won-Won?" the squeaky voice of Lavender Brown sliced through the calm. "Cormac McClaggen told me he was here but I didn't believe him."

Madame Pomfrey tutted at her dramatics and pointed the girl in the direction of where you were all sat. You tensed at the blazing heat simmering in Lavender's eyes as she looked between Hermione's hand in Ron's.

"Y'alright Brown?" you say with a grimaced smile, discontent with the fact that you knew the other two wouldn't dare to speak. "Ron's been out for a few hours. Should be cognisant properly in a week's time."

Apparently you'd taken to snarky remarks to cover up your terror at the fact that he had not so much as stirred from his dreamless sleep. She turns to you then, her features betraying how worried she was for her boyfriend, but she had let jealousy rear its ugly head.

"And what is she doing here?" she hisses, pointedly looking at Hermione as you and Ginny share bewildered looks.

"Well-" you say, awkwardly glancing between the girls, "Well they're friends aren't they?"

"Yes well, you're friends with Theodore Nott, but it's so obvious that you're fucking each other behind closed doors." she snaps and you gape at her in disbelief. "Forgive me if I don't think that Granger's intentions are any less pure."

"I am not fucking Theodore." you jibe, throwing a whithering glare at Ginny who had let out a loud snort at Lavender's self assured statement.

"I've been friends with him for longer than he knew of your existence." Mione snapped, not letting go of Ron's hand, scowling as Lavender lets out a catty laugh.

"You're joking right? The two of you haven't had a civil conversation in weeks. But I suppose you want to make up with him now that he's all interesting." she says shrilly and its Ginny who whirls on her this time.

"You call being poisoned interesting? Are you that dim?" she questions and Lavender's resolve jostles only slightly.

Suddenly, Ron's features contort in discontent.

"Oh look at that." Lavender says smugly, eyes flicking to Hermione's grimacing face. "He senses my presence."

You yelp as she practically shoves you away from where you are sat, leaning over to peak at her boyfriend's face as it twitches with his dreams. He begins to mumble something that you can't make out and Lavender begins to encourage him to speak up, as if he'd be able to hear her.

You just stare at the back of the girl's head in annoyance until she staggers away, mouth agape with shock. You're confused until you hear it for yourself.

"Her- Mione. Mione. Mione." he chants her name like a siren's song.

Hermione smiles gently and her thumbs caresses his hand softly as he continues to mumble incoherently in his sleep. Lavender lets out a broken exhale and promptly flees the ward. You pity her in that moment. Not even the most incorrigible of people deserve that kind of betrayal.

The three of you are silent as you watch Ron. But he's sound asleep again. Still, as if it had been a combined figment of your imaginations. You stand to make the matron aware of this development, playfully shoving Ginny away as she taunts you.

"I can't believe she thought you and Nott are fucking." she laughed. "Unbelievable."

"Shut up." you berate her and she lets out a giggle before replying in a barely hidden whisper.

"Wrong Slytherin Prince, right?"

She smirks as you throw up a middle finger towards her as you reach the matron's office on the other end of the Hospital Wing.

~∞~

Somehow you've mastered the accute art of stealth.

In the week that has passed, you have managed to drift through the castle halls without so much as crossing paths with any of the Slytherin group. Partly due to the fact that you spent your time in the Hospital Wing with a near-cognisant Ron, in classes or in your dorm. You didn't dare go to the Room of Requirement or the library and you were eternally grateful that it was not your week to do the nightly Patrols.

Ancient Runes proved to be a difficult feat, but you somehow coerced a fellow Ravenclaw to switch seats with you in exchange for completing the next essay so that they could focus on training for the quidditch match at the end of the week. Under normal circumstances you would've abhorred the idea of it, but desperate times call for desperate measures.

You could feel his eyes practically burning holes to the back of your head in all your shared classes, and you felt him in the corridors, but you didn't dare give in. You didn't want to see him. Couldn't bare to face him.

Mattheo was restless and agitated. All week long you wouldn't so much as look at him, let alone deign to spend an ounce of time with him. He was worried.

When you slammed the common room door in his face a week ago, he had reluctantly confessed to his friends about what the two of you had discovered; each of his friends were wholly willing to help him find a way to help you, if only he could tell you the good news.

And he'd tried. He'd reached over the tether that had connected your mind to his, but each time he was met with an offensive wall of dark stone. You'd blocked him out completely, and he would've been impressed if he wasn't so desperate to hear your voice.

Now he knows how you must've felt all those weeks ago, but it's different now. Now there are feelings involved. Now he doesn't know how to cope without your snark and sarcasm.

When he found Jeremy Stretton sat in your seat in Ancient Runes he found his reigned in emotions snapping. Especially when he saw that you were sat in the front, happily chatting away to Hermione and one of the Patil twins, waiting for Professor Babbling to turn up. He doesn't know why the sight of the Chaser makes his blood boil.

Mattheo slammed his hands onto the desk, bringing his face level with Stretton's, who had looks up in startled alarm. Mattheo was seething, and he didn't particularly care that everyone was beginning to peer curiously at the scene that was beginning to unfold.

"What the fuck are you doing at my table, Stretton?" he snarled, eyes narrowing as his hands tightened around the lip of the desk.

To his credit, Jeremy shook off his stupor and looked at Mattheo obstinately.

"I'm sitting in my seat, Riddle. Problem?" the Ravenclaw chaser replied, challenge flaring in his oceanic eyes.

Mattheo's glare became venomous.

"That...is not...your seat." he said slowly, his voice low and dangerous. He could see you standing up in his peripheral, looking as if your going to intervene, but Granger stops you with a hand to your shoulder, a look of incredulity on her face. "I suggest you move, before I move you myself."

"Well actually," Stretton says with a barely there smirk, "I think you'll find that it is my seat. I don't know why it's taken her so long to do so, but Meadow practically begged me to swap and I can only oblige to her wishes."

He sees red almost instantly and Stretton's shirt collar finds its way into the clenched fists of Mattheo's hands, his hot breath fanning over the Ravenclaw's smirking face. He now knows why fury coats his every being with a tiny detail that whispered to his consciousness. Stretton had taken you to the Yule Ball two years ago. This was a product of pure jealousy as well as rage.

"Oooh did I hit a nerve?" Stretton says. "What could dear, sweet Meadow possibly see in you, Riddle?"

Mattheo doesn't register the feeling of his fist untangling from the shirt collar, until he feels the soft cartilage of Stretton's nose breaking beneath bloodied knuckles. He can vaguely hear Theodore and Pansy telling him to stop, can barely hear the sounds of people jeering and gasping at the scene. But what he does hear is your blessed voice.

"Mattheo stop it." you say, and it's like the sound brushes away the feelings clouding all his senses. He lets go of Stretton, who flops to the floor unceremoniously, but he doesn't pay him another glance. Not when you're looking at him the way you are. With bewilderment and what he thinks is unease. His breathing is ragged as he steps towards you, but you step back.

"Are you insane?" you hiss at him and to his utter horror, you turn your gaze to the blubbering boy on the floor and kneel down to help him instead.

"Jeremy?" the way you say his name with a soft tone grates through him and he's about to step towards you again, when Theodore's firm hand on his chest stops him.

"Let it go. You've already caused quite the scene brother." his voice is a gentle caress to his ears and his graciously listens to Theo who sighs in relief, pushing Mattheo out of the door, ignoring the shouts of Professor Babbling, who had just entered the classroom.

~∞~

Wordlessly, you heal Jeremy's wounds as Professor Babbling meanders in, unaware of the turmoil that had occurred only moments ago. Jeremy was hissing and cursing as your magic washed over his skin.

"You can take your godsdamned seat back, Meadow." he spat. "It's so not worth getting another beating over."

You smile grimly at him, guilt clouding your eyes. "Of course. I'm sorry, Jeremy."

"Not your fault, love." It's nearly impossible for you to hide the way the nickname makes you cringe. "Can't say I won't miss the opportunity for some extra quidditch practice though."

He bats your healing hands away as Professor Babbling stands above the two of you.

"What on Earth is going on?" she says, voice stern. "Does it have anything to do with why Masters Riddle and Nott are notably absent?"

Jeremy nods immediately at the same time that you freeze, not willing to give them up so easily. He stares at you incredulously. You clear your throat awkwardly.

"Uh, yes. Yeah." you say in a muted whisper. "But it's been sorted."

Jeremy throws you a look, which you adamantly ignore as you rise and go towards Pansy's table, taking Theo's empty seat. She doesn't so much as look your way, tense as you sit down. You close your eyes and sigh.

"Look I'm sorry that I've not spoken to you." you mumble without turning to face her.

"Ignored and neglected more like." she retorts in response. "I had no idea about Ron, Meadow. You have to believe me."

You reach over and squeeze her hand in your's. "I do believe you, Pans. I do. But it doesn't mean that the others didn't. And I-"

You're cut off by Professor Babbling's introduction to the lesson's topic, but the squeeze that Pansy's hand gives your's is all you need to know that you're both okay. And that's enough for now.

"For what it's worth," she mumbles almost imperceptibly. "You're doing an awfully good job of avoiding him. I've never seen Mattheo so ruffled."

Instead of satisfaction, that statement only brings you an aching sense of pain. And whether you do it unconsciously or not, you'll never admit, but your mental walls break down the smallest amount.

Enough for him to know that you're in as much agony as he is.

~∞~

As soon as Pansy leaves your side after you've walked out of Ancient Runes, Hermione is there immediately.

"Okay, what in Merlin's name happened in there?" she asks incredulously.

"We both know Riddle has a short fuse, Mione. It's not that abnormal to see." you retort and she gives you a disbelieving look.

"Maybe so, but it can't be just me that's noticed that he hasn't resorted in bloody fist fighting in months." Damn her and her brilliant observation skills. "And why was Stretton in your seat in the first place?"

"I asked to swap." you say with a shrug and when you don't give her the answer she's no doubt looking for, she pins you with a glare.

"You've been avoiding them all week. Parkinson, Nott and Riddle. You've spent more time with me, Ginny and Harry this week than you have all year."

"Tired of my presence already, Mione?" you say with the ghost of a smirk of your face. When she doesn't return your humour, you sigh. "I've been a little busy with visiting Ron. And maybe Harry's spiels have been getting to me."

"What?" she questions before lowering her voice. "You think they're Death Eaters?"

"I don't know what to think." you say. "But I can't talk to them. I won't."

"You spoke to Pansy, just fine earlier."

"She's not the one I'm avoiding."

A brief glance into her mind shows you that she thinks you're speaking about Theo. And while the thought of speaking to him after what he no doubt had a hand in helping orchestrate, seeing Mattheo, speaking to Mattheo, makes your heart want to drop right down to your stomach.

You can still feel the phantom of his power all this time later. Though that could just be you imagining it; you don't doubt that the brief feeling you got was exhilarating. It terrified you.

"Are you coming to see Ron after lunch?" Hermione asks as you part ways for your differing classes.

"Yeah. I'll find you in the Great Hall once I've finished Astronomy." you smile in farewell as she makes her way towards her Arithmancy lesson.

Your smile slips immediately as you turn the corner, because you find yourself trapped between a cold stone pillar, and his strong, muscled chest, his arms straining as they pin you to the hard structure. You don't look up to lock eyes, instead glaring intently at his loosened Slytherin tie.

"Hello, Princess." Mattheo spits menacingly. All he gets in response is a huff from you. "Still intent on avoiding me, are you?" he lets out a dark chuckle that sets your skin alight, and you can tell without looking that a sinister smirk paints his gorgeous face.

You feel as he sensually caresses your mind, and it has you keening into him.

Let me back in. His deep voice is demanding and assertive. At your blatent refusal he growls. Why won't you let me in?

I can't. You say back, your inner voice a mere whimper in comparison to his. He tilts his head down to look at you, chasing your eyes with his own. He can feel your fear and self hatred like it was highlighted in bold colours for all to see.

"What are you so afraid of, darling?" he asks out loud in a low and raspy tone that makes you melt. Your eyes shut on instinct, squeezing away the light until your dizzy.

"I'm going to be late for Astronomy." you say, deflecting and he scoffs, pushing you further into the wall.

"It's barely eleven o'clock. I'm sure you're not going to miss a change in star pattern any time soon."

"That's not even the point and you know it." you argue, trying in vain to evade his strong hold.

"Stop avoiding us. Stop avoiding me." he begs. "Do you know how insufferable Teddy has been?"

"What a horrible thing to say about your best friend." you retort halfheartedly. But Mattheo is only partially glad that you're returning his words with quips of sarcasm. He sighs.

"I don't blame you for what happened in my dorm, love." Unlike how you cringed away from Stretton, your heart sings at the nickname. "'S not your fault."

"I could've drained you to death, Théo." you say quietly, and his face heats at the shortened nickname. One that he had not heard in years, since the passing of Theodore's mother. "I don't know how you can stand to be around me."

You're still evading his eye contact, so he lifts a hand from the wall and gently cradles your chin, moving your gaze to his; bloody knuckles contrasting with the smoothness of your skin.

"You're not a monster." he says resolutely, like he truely believes it. "You never have been, and you never will be. Not to me, not to my friends, not to your friends, either."

Your brow furrows and your eyes line with unshed tears.

"I went to Dumbledore." you say and he stills. "After I left your common room. I went to him and he said I was a weapon. Because I can detect certain magical objects and people."

Mattheo's body lit up with fury again. You were not a weapon to be used and discarded. No, you were a person who did not belong on the frontlines of war.

"And what did you say to that?" he asks you, onyx eyes narrowed in anger that was not directed your way.

"I told him that I didn't know how to control it. That I wasn't interested in being fated to die." you say, and it feels good to talk about things you're too afraid to speak to your friends about. "I asked him to grant you all safety too."

At this, Mattheo's gaze snaps right to your own. Incredulity lacing his features. "Why would you do that?"

"He could see right through my shield." you defend yourself at his tone. "He refused anyhow. Said you had to ask for yourselves, and he knows that you won't."

He admired your ire for his friends. But he almost winces at the glare you send his way.

"You knew that he wouldn't help any of you no matter when or how I asked. Didn't you?" you couldn't believe him.

"You learn to expect nothing less from the people who expect nothing but bad intentions from you, sweetheart." he replied with a shrug. "Though I wish they'd help the others, no matter if they associate with me or not."

His face is dark as he lets you go. But you don't move away. Instead you tilt your head and stare up at him, eyes moving across his features: from his onyx eyes framed by gloriously long lashes; to the bridge of his nose, crooked from previous fights with a long scar stretching across the middle of it; to his perfect mouth that pouts slightly as he gazes down at you.

Keep looking at me like that and I'll take you in this very corridor. He snarls in your mind and you smirk.

Kinky. But I draw the line at exhibitionism. You pat at his hard, muscled chest and make to move away and run towards the class that you are no doubt now late for. But he stops you with a firm grip to your bicep and he spins you around to face him again.

"Tease." he mutters with his own smirk as he presses his lips to your's. It's as euphoric as the first time, and every time after that as his lips fight against your's, ultimately winning your miniature battle for dominance. You mewl into his mouth as his tongue brushes against your's, hands clawing at the hairs at the nape of his neck as he pushes you into the wall once more.

You're so lost in eachother that you don't hear them when they turn the corner. Ginny and Harry stop dead in their tracks as they stare at the two of you wide eyed. The former smirks at the thought of finally catching you out but it drops immediately when she turns to the boy beside her who is visibly fuming. And she can't steer him away fast enough to save you from his wrath.

"Shacking up with Death Eaters now, Meadow? I thought that was below you." the spitting sound of your best friend's voice breaks you from your daydream like state and you force yourself away from Mattheo's wondering mouth to gape at your two friends.

Ginny is sending you an apologetic look which you bypass in order to face the scathing eyes of Harry Potter.

"Harry-" you say, stepping out from where you're trapped between Mattheo and the wall, and you're so grateful that he doesn't keep you pinned there, instead he stands slightly infront of you, arms folded, a glare set on his face.

"Don't." Harry says, eying the way Riddle stands infront of you protectively. "All this time, I thought you were only tutoring him for Nott's sake. But, of course you just had to get in his bed, too."

The hand on his bicep is the only thing stopping Mattheo from launching at the boy.

"Watch it, Potter." he snaps, his position infront of you turning defensive.

Harry lets out an incredulous laugh; Ginny's attempts to persuade him to leave it alone, are ignored.

"I overheard you." he continues as if Mattheo had not spoken at all. "In Dumbledore's office. Begging him to help your friends."

You don't know what to say. Starstruck by his anger. But you understand why he's angry at you, and that ache burns ever brighter in your chest.

"The same friends who have tormented us, tormented you for years. How can you even ask such a thing?"

"They deserve to be helped just as much as the rest of us." you say at last, your voice quiet and on the verge of cracking with emotion. The lump in your throat gets bigger with every word you speak. "You know what it's like to grow up in an unwanted home Harry. You know that no one deserves that."

"That's not the point Meadow." he snaps and he visibly delights in the way you recoil at his words. "They're all Death Eaters. Working for his–" he points a steady finger to the boy stood beside you, "-father. Did you ever stop to think that they were buttering you up to take to him once they got wind of your powers."

You blanch at that and turn your gaze to Ginny. She gapes between the three of you and avoids Harry's eyes. "I didn't tell anyone. I promise you, Meadow." her resolute tone is the only thing grounding you to reality right now.

Harry shakes his head. "Dumbledore told me that you can siphon people's power as well as perform Occlimency. When were you going to tell us?" his anger gives way to betrayal as he looks you up and down. And the way he spits out the word 'siphon' tells you everything you need to know. He thinks you're a monster.

"I was going to tell the rest of you." you promise, not looking at Ginny again. "But only when I had a better grasp of it."

Harry scoffs and steps towards you. Rolling his eyes when Mattheo stands directly ahead of you.

"Back off Potter. If you know what's good for you."

The way his venomous lilt travels through you should make you ashamed, but it only sends sparks of arousal to your core.

Harry only looks at you from over Mattheo's shoulder, distain painting his pale face as he utters a heartbreaking sentence before he leaves, with Ginny following quickly behind him, with a silent promise to find you later and apologise for Harry's (entirely justifiable, you think) words.

"Don't go to see Ron later, and don't you dare seek us out again. I don't trust you, and I don't know if I ever will again."

Mattheo is onto you the second the pair depart, wrapping you in his arms as you collapse from the onslaught of emotion that crashes down on you.

What have I done? What have I done? What have I done? You say over and over and he does his best to comfort you, going as far as to sit against the wall, cold floor stinging against the fabric of his school trousers, cradling you into his chest.

It's okay. I'll fix it. I promise. Is all he can muster up in comfort as you crumble before his very eyes, sinking into his embrace.

~∞~

i love writing angst lol i hope you enjoyed this shortish chapter (lots of time skips im sorry)

the coming updates will probably be slow since i've gone back to uni - i have to complete three presentations and come up with a product idea and a lab report in like 5 weeks 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

i've tried to fix it and i've reported the bug but i'm still incapable of editing pretty much all of my posts (not the serendipity masterlist post though, thankfully) and its getting quite frustrating now but we move 🫡

taglist:

(striked out users are ones that i couldn't tag)

@camille-1019 @lovelyygirl8 @xluansstuff @babeylover @thejadeazalea @undercover-smutlover @adhxmoony @dreamingofonceuponatime @thepassionatereader @urmomsgayforme5 @aphroditeisamilf @devotedlycrookeddonut @purplegirls-posts @nofacenonamelikekira @foxboyapologist @lafrone @lovely-maryj @nromanovaswife @leeknows-wife @dracygf @wildlyobserving @ravenclawprincess33 @melllinaa @vellicora @lantsovheiress @emiliahoward @stunkbiggu @vcosette @prongsprincessworld @mattiesgirl @rachmmb @x-kermit-x @sun-fiower-seed @cas-planet @certaindreampost @weirdowithnobeardo @mikalovesicecream @sunasbbie @rainy-darling @faeriepigeons @lovely-blackinnon @hiireadstuff @gimalo135 @elsafromcabinsix @moonlightreader649 @blueshome @nopedefe @spencerreidsthings @navs-bhat @agent-tempest @magimtz23 @y0urm0m12 @sbrn0905 @leona-hawthorne @whatsupb18 @moni-cah @taylorann2013 @unstablereader @gisellesprettylies @nat1221

#mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo x you #harry potter #mattheo riddle #pansy parkinson #ginny weasley x reader #hermione granger x reader #harry potter x reader #angst #serendipity series

[milfs-milk]

NO MATTER WHAT YOU ARE [18+]

CHAPTER ONE - ADORATION [MINORS DNI]

[PAIRING] Female!Trafalgar Law x Reader [SUMMARY] Turned into a woman only temporarily, Law still needs a proper wardrobe. You take your now girlfriend out on a shopping date, and despite her initial reluctance, you hope to help her enjoy the experience and her new body. [CONTENT + WARNINGS] Female Law, Genderbend, Reader is femme, Established Relationship, Fluff. This chapter isn't NSFW but the next will be, so minors DNI! [WORD COUNT] 5k

“This is ridiculous.” 

Not for the first time, Law hesitates. Your partner, or more accurately, girlfriend for the time being, comes to a halt just before the entrance of the lingerie store. You can see her reconsidering the necessity of buying clothes for this new figure of hers, her sharp jaw tight and full lips slightly pursed—a scowl to most, yet a pout to you. Despite being in an entirely different body, her mannerisms stay familiar. 

The change is temporary. It was neither expected nor asked for, a complete accident that doused her with feminization fruit. The Heart Pirates, responsive as ever, were quick to erupt into a chaotic blend of amusement and fawning, all while their irritated Captain demanded quiet as she rummaged through her medical books in search of a remedy. But the pages offered no immediate cure, only assuring that the effects will last a few weeks before naturally subsiding.

Which is short lived in your opinion, and entirely too long in Law’s.

She doesn’t seem to harbor the same appreciation you do for her new figure, seeing this change as an inconvenience more than anything. So you hoped to make it less so, however you could. In need of a new wardrobe, you tried swapping her now oversized shirts and jeans for some of your own clothing. The two of you didn’t have much luck. She seemed frustrated with it all, annoyed, sitting on the edge of the bed surrounded by all the clothes that might’ve fit. You sat with her.

“We can always go shopping,” you gently suggested, rubbing her back as she gave you a stubborn look of reluctance, but not entirely refusal. “It could be fun. Just think of it as a date, and we’ll get you something comfortable.”

And she agreed, as much as she didn’t want to. 

You couldn’t blame her. Having spent her entire life in the body of a man, the abrupt transformation into something feminine left her with a certain sense of discomfort, and perhaps what could be considered mild embarrassment. There was no reason to feel shame; not in your opinion, at least, but given the circumstances, Law’s hesitance is only natural. 

Still, as the two of you stand in front of the lingerie store, you try to make light of the situation. 

“Cmon, hun. Have some fun with it.” You grab her wrist, encouraging her inside with playfulness to your voice.  “Doesn’t every man wonder what it’s like to have boobs?” 

“I’m not a pervert,” she firmly insists. Even so, she lets you guide her, her long legs begrudgingly following along.

You huff in amusement. Maybe it isn’t entirely apparent on the surface, but if your time with Law has taught you anything, it’s that she tends to feel more than she lets on. Her reserve comes with all emotions, vulnerable or not. Laughter is stifled into subtle smiles, distress leads to emotional withdrawal, care translates into gentle gestures and quiet support. 

The same pattern can be seen with all things intimate. Attraction, affection, arousal… You had to admit, she did a good job suppressing what she could for as long as she could. The sheer lust she felt wasn’t exactly controlled, but rather hidden—until she finally got a taste of you.

Only then did it become apparent. The subtle hints in her behavior that you couldn’t quite place were suddenly given a reason. You found a name for those lingering eyes, that intense gaze, her tense body language—yearning, to the point of perversion. It was a deep desire, depraved from being deprived for so long, devolving into desperation. 

Not a pervert? Debatable. 

“Well…” you say, tone skeptical. She shoots you a look you expected, simultaneously daring you to keep talking and advising you to shut your mouth. You always thought she was fun to tease, and she always thought you were fun to discipline. You pretend to give in, a smile on your face with your hands raised in feigned apology. 

“Alright, alright. Don’t…” You let out a chuckle before you can finish, and then another as you try again. “Don’t get your panties in a twist.” 

“I already told you,” she’s quick to retort, but slows and hesitates to consider her wording. She never liked saying the P word. “I won’t be wearing… those.” 

“I know, hun.” You let her have this one. Despite any teasing, above all, you want her to be comfortable. She knows that. Still, you place a hand on her shoulder and give it a gentle pat in a gesture of support. “We’ll find you the closest thing to boxers we can. Boyshorts are more comfortable, anyway.” 

Technically, they’re still considered panties, but you don’t say that. You had to get her to wear them somehow. 

The two of you stand inside the store, greeted with dim lighting and a pallet of pink and black decor, the air carrying a strong floral scent from the perfume shop next door. You’re already familiar, but Law takes a moment to scan the wide array of options—different colors, certain styles, sections of specific types of lingerie that she probably doesn't know the names of. You can tell what she’s thinking.

“Yeah, it’s a lot,” you empathize. “But we’ll be quick, okay?” 

She grunts in affirmation, following where you lead. 

And really, you meant it. Initially, at least. It wasn’t your intention to spend longer than necessary browsing the selection of bras, but the more you thought about it, the more it became necessary. Law already insisted she wanted something simple, but this matter needs careful consideration. There’s push ups to sports bras, full coverage to strings and lace, pretty pinks and bold blues and gentle greens… She’d pull them all off, this much you know, but which would suit her best? 

You glance at her chest, obscured by the oversized shirt she’s wearing. Still, your memory serves you well. You’re able to make a decent guess of her cup size after taking the opportunity to thoroughly examine her figure when she first tried on clothes. You called it studying, she called it ogling, and maybe she was right. In your defense, it was hard to resist. You sat on the bed behind her, a clear view of her front and backside as she stood before a mirror. Occasionally, she’d glance at you through the reflection between slipping on shirts and bras, but you often didn’t meet her eyes.

Your attention was fixated elsewhere, memorizing her new yet temporary features for safekeeping. Her chest wasn’t exactly flat, but wouldn’t be considered big either. She was endowed with slight handfuls that fit her slender figure, complemented with the framing of an inked heart. Long legs led to the gentle curve of her hips and pert swell of her ass, faint dimples resting right above on either side of her lower back, indents that were perfect for thumbs. Her defined back line trailed towards another familiar tattoo, up to sharp shoulder blades and shaggy, short black hair. 

She didn’t stand at her usual 6’3 and a half, but she was still above average height. It was a combination of lankiness and toned athleticism. Muscle definition was apparent in the sculpted contours of her biceps, sinewy strength of her back and tightness of her stomach. Her proportions were long and lean, assets small and perky, movements fluid and poised. She always had an irresistible allure, captivating and mesmerizing, but in the form of something more feminine, you could only define her physicality as pure elegance. 

“You said we’d be quick,” Law mumbles under her breath. You’re only momentarily interrupted from your thoughts of her figure, eyes meeting hers before falling back down.

“I know,” you hum leisurely. This matter can’t be rushed. You look at the two bras in your hands, and up to her chest again. “But I can’t decide if you’d look better in black or red.”

“Does it really matter?” she asks, voice a mixture of exasperation and amusement. She seems to find something entertaining in how much consideration you’re putting into this. 

It takes just another thoughtful second before you come to a decision. “Well, if you insist,” you say, putting them in your hand held shopping basket, “we’ll just have to get both.” 

“I said no lace.” She looks down at the lingerie in mild disapproval. Still, she doesn’t make an effort to stop you. They’re good choices, if you do say so yourself. 

“Yeah, but you’d look really nice in—“

“Are you ladies finding everything okay?” An employee interjects with a friendly smile, all while Law promptly tugs at the brim of her hat, lowering it just enough to shroud her eyes. It’s a habitual gesture you’re familiar with, one she uses to shield herself when she feels too exposed, too vulnerable. You’ve seen it most when she smiles, but right now, it’s driven by embarrassment. She tries to deflect as much attention away from her as possible. You handle it.

“Just fine, thanks,” you respond. “Where are your dressing rooms?” 

The woman guides you both, and Law follows in silence just behind you. The moment the employee is out of hearing range, Law’s quick to mumble a question, looking around to make sure every other person in the store is out of hearing range too. “You’re coming in with me?” 

“Mmhm.” You don’t look up at her, taking a moment to organize the lingerie you’ve decided on. “Gotta make sure they fit, don’t I?”

“I think I’ll be able to tell.” She sees through your excuse, a thin veil poorly masking a desire to see her naked again.

“Well,” you say, not bothering to deny it. “It’s not every day I get to help you pick out lingerie. Better enjoy it while I can, hmm?” 

You give her a cheeky smile, and still, she’s unimpressed. Holding all of her new lingerie, you open the dressing room’s curtain with your free hand and gesture her inside with exaggerated politeness. 

“After you.” 

Law doesn’t like to put on bras correctly. You watched her try to reach back and connect the hooks when the two of you first tried on clothes, but she quickly found another way. She said it was easier, just raising it above her head and slipping it on like a shirt, and didn’t seem to care when you said that’ll stretch it out. She does the same this time, looking unsatisfied with the result. 

“It doesn’t fit.”

“Not when you put it on like that,” you say, looking up from her chest to meet her eyes through the mirror. “Remember what I told you?” 

Law sighs, but listens. She seems to find something embarrassing in cupping her breasts and adjusting them into place, insisting it wasn’t necessary when you first told her it’s the only way to fit into a bra comfortably. Despite her stubbornness, it didn’t take long for her to learn you were right. With a slight forward lean, she scoops her breasts in better accordance with the bra cups, just the way you taught her. 

“There you go.” You smile at the snug fit, giving full coverage and support. Even she seems a bit impressed with the cleavage it creates. “You fill it out nicely.” 

She huffs at the compliment like it didn’t just make her blush, the color of her cheeks a growing tinge of red as she quickly averts her gaze from the mirror. With deft fingers, she starts pulling the bra off. Up and over her head, of course, not bothering with the hooks.

“Are we done here?” Law asks, masking bashfulness with impatience. 

You nod towards the remaining lingerie hanging on the wall. “Try on the rest, hun.”

“Why? They’re all the same size.”

“Yeah, sizing is a scam. Every bra fits differently,” you tell her, taking your seat on a bench in the cramped dressing room. Eyes on her, you lean back. 

“Go ahead.”

And she does. Law looks at the assortment of lingerie, hesitating for a moment before making a skeptical choice. She begins with the less intricate, going from boy shorts and sports bras before gradually making her way to the few matching sets of lace and pushups you convince her to at least try.

You evaluate each one, fully appreciating the array of colors and clothing you've never seen her in before. Each piece brings out something different in her—deep tones of scarlet and midnight blue intensifying the richness of her aura, simple yet bold black aligning with the harder side of her personality, delicate pastels tenderizing her usual toughness as the gentle hues bring out a subtle yet inherent softness. All harmonize with the ink of her tattoos, all compliment her figure, and all, in some sense, are distinctly and uniquely Law. 

It’s hard for you to say no to a lot of them. She makes the decision easier by saying no herself, most options not appealing to her the same way they do to you. Still, she takes some of your input into consideration and entertains a few pieces she doesn’t directly admit she likes. Her choices, coupled with two of your own, sit to the side waiting to be bought. 

“Don’t get used to this,” she makes sure to warn you when she slips on the last bra. “Once I’m back to normal, we’re burning these.” 

“You say that.” Coming to a stand, your arms loosely wrap around her from behind. Wandering fingers draw attention to the set of lingerie she wears, and the two of you watch through the mirror as your nails trace along the lace in a mixture of examination and admiration. “…but they look nice, don’t they?” 

She doesn’t deny it. Instead, she almost agrees, the low mumble unenthusiastic like she doesn’t want to admit you’re right.

“…They’re not terrible.”

“Nothing ever is.” Your touch moves downward, fingertips grazing her tight stomach in a way that makes her suppress a shiver. You settle with placing your hands on her hips, your thumbs slowly caressing the silk lining of her panties. “Not on you.” 

“You’re persistent.” The words may be muttered, exasperated, but as she leans back into your touch, you feel the appreciation and affection behind them. You give her a light squeeze before pulling away.

“I’m right,” you correct her. Picking up her clothes, you hand them to her and gather your things to leave. “I’ll show you. We’re not done.” 

More casual clothes are next on the list—shoes and shirts and jeans that Law isn’t too excited to shop for. Not that she was thrilled with the lingerie either, but you like to think she ended up finding some enjoyment, at least as much as she could. A familiar, soft smile became increasingly apparent with each genuine compliment and playful comment you gave. There’s a subtle yet gradual shift, her initial reluctance giving way to something more comfortable.

It’s progress, but more still needs to be made. 

Outside the privacy of the dressing room, Law’s demeanor tightens just as before. She grows quiet, walking alongside you throughout the shopping center with her gaze lingering on the displays of stores you pass by. It’s not the natural, easy silence that sometimes characterizes the space between you two, but rather something more reserved, more restrained. Through polished glass windows, she watches her feminine figure in the reflection. 

Something’s on her mind. Something has been on her mind. You noticed a shift since the transformation, and at first, attributed what seemed to be unease to the adjustment period. While that may play a part, it’s apparent there’s something deeper beneath the surface. And though you like to think you’re attuned with your partner, always recognizing changes in behavior and always familiar with subtle cues, you can’t quite grasp the full extent of Law’s thoughts right now. 

You don’t ask. You look towards her, her mind seemingly stuck somewhere else, and even as impulse urges you to, you don’t reach out to hold her hand. Knowing what does and doesn’t make her comfortable, you move at her pace, allowing room for Law to initiate if she feels to. 

Still, indirectly, you do what you can to guide her back to the present with you. 

Upon your suggestion, you both stop to eat after walking past a shop that’s closest to her favorite food you’re able to find. It’s a small gesture, but still helps—sitting together and sharing a meal, taking a break from the constant movement of shoppers in every direction, tuning out the chatter of voices atop voices… In environments and situations she doesn’t enjoy, Law adapts. She always does. Even so, you offer a moment of stillness. It’s simple enough to ease some tension in her shoulders.

A bit looser, the two of you continue throughout the shopping center. 

“Let’s make this quick,” Law tells you upon entering the next store, keeping her insistence on getting this over with. 

You pause almost immediately. Drawn to a display of mannequins, your eyes trail over their cardigans, down to skirts with matching tights and complimentary boots. Your gaze shifts onto Law, then back, and onto Law again, just to visualize her in the outfit. If she notices, she doesn’t seem to pay it much mind. Or, perhaps, she just doesn’t want to entertain it, walking past and expecting you to follow.

“I’ll try,” you say, and hope not to get too distracted. 

Though just as with the lingerie, you can’t help but muse, spending a bit more time than strictly needed looking at potential options. You have suggestions, but you don’t give them. You already know what she’ll say no to, noticing the way she seems avoidant of the more revealing and feminine options.

Instead, Law focuses on simplicity. The casual clothes are tentative choices, her demeanor even more so when it comes time to try them on. Despite any doubt or hesitation, each piece proves to be flattering. You knew they would. With a body like that, every outfit is practically made for her—a slender waist sculpted to flaunt in form fitting shirts, her defined collarbones and slight cleavage meant for low necklines, her long legs perfect for a good pair of jeans.

You approve, but Law has her own thoughts. 

“They’re too tight,” she grouses, looking in the dressing room’s full body mirror with skinny jeans practically painted onto her thighs.

“They’re supposed to be.” You watch her from behind, and step closer to lift her top just enough to adjust the low waistband. “As long as it’s not tight around the waist, it fits.” 

“Doesn’t feel like it.” She shifts, turning slightly to assess the fit. 

“Does it really matter when they look that good?” you ask. Law stays quiet, not seeming to have any complaints about their appearance. You take it as slight satisfaction. Only subtly, you test her. “I can go get you a different size.” 

“It’s fine,” Law tells you, suspiciously quick. When she meets your gaze, giving her a knowing smile that’s well aware of her fondness for the outfit, she defends herself. “I don’t want to wear it,” she clarifies, “but I’m not staying here longer than we have to.”

“Whatever you say, hun,” you tease lightly. Still, her words are half the truth—hours into the shopping trip with just a few more clothes to try on, Law seems eager to leave. There’s no need to draw it out by experimenting with different sizes. You sense her impatience, prompting you to hand her the next set of jeans to continue. 

The checkout process doesn’t take long. As the two of you purchase a week’s worth of clothes, a persistent thought tugs at your mind. Though you know you shouldn’t, and though you know it’s unfair to her, you feel a slight bit of disappointment as the stubborn desire to see her in different styles shifts into longing. 

It’s not that the choices she made were unsatisfying; far from it. Everything looks good on her. That’s exactly why there’s such an allure to more tempting options, skirts and fishnets and crop tops that are certain to enhance her features even more, but are a territory she’s not quite comfortable with. You try not to push it, letting your eyes linger on the earlier display of mannequins before looking away. 

Only when you’re about to leave do you let some selfishness show. 

“Law.”

You call for her attention, her name wrapped up in a wistful breath. You’re sure she’s already able to tell you’re not up to any good. From the corner of your eye, you see her turn towards you, watching with what must be a frown as you look at yet another piece of clothing. She speaks firmly.

“I’m not trying on more—“

She stops mid-sentence when you hold it out for her to see. It’s a dress, certainly nothing you can expect her to wear, but it still catches her attention. While Law may not be big on fashion, she has a sense of style. From the subtle intricacies of her earrings to the bold statements etched onto her skin as tattoos, it’s her way of expression. Even a tailored wardrobe captures her story, each piece a deliberate choice reflecting her crew, her past, and everything she values.

The dress isn’t custom made, no, but it might as well be. Slender, black and sleek, Law’s gaze lingers on the heart-shaped cutout adorning the front. It’s positioned on the center of the chest, aligned almost perfectly with her jolly roger tattooed in the same area. 

There's a pause. The silent question of if she’ll entertain it lingers in the air, and for only a moment, she lets herself consider. As you watch her expectantly, you can see the contemplation in her eyes, a slight flicker of possibility. Her comfort zone has her quick to push it down. Tearing her focus away from the dress, Law forces an answer. 

“No.”

But you know her better than that. That subtle softening in her gaze, you recognize it as openness. The dress may seem too feminine for her usual preference, but there’s something to it that appeals to her, embedded in both personal significance and aesthetic allure. It’s not that she dislikes it. Law’s receptive, but reluctant. All she needs is a bit of encouragement. 

“Hun, this shit is practically made for you.” She already knows it, but you want her to hear it. You want her to see it, too. Lifting the dress just enough to outline her figure, you invite her to visualize it on herself. “It’s your size too. Should be long enough…” 

As Law looks down at herself and the dress, another moment of uncertain consideration passes. Surely, she can see the appeal, but hesitance lingers. “We don’t have to buy it,” you reassure. “Just try it on, see how it looks.” 

She’s wavering. There’s a slight shift in her expression, lines of reluctance turning inward. The furrow of her brows shows a tinge of irritation, but only because she knows she’s caving. When her eyes meet yours again, you give a gentle push that you know will tip the scales. 

“For me?”

Law’s quick to snatch the dress from your hands. In a mixture of both frustration and determination, fueled by the stubborn desire to please you, she struts past and into the direction of the changing area. She doesn’t need to turn to know you’re following. 

“We’re leaving after this,” Law tells you, disappearing into the confines of the fitting room before she can change her mind.

You wait. There’s a rustling of fabric behind the curtain, and the passing minutes make you wonder if you should’ve gone in with her to help zip up the back. She seems to manage, but not without apparent difficulty. Once her complicated movements settle, Law stands quiet for a few moments. You decide to speak up.

“You done in there?”

Another beat of silence passes before she responds. “…Yeah.”

“Come on out, then,” you encourage. 

She’s slow to open the curtain. Law looks off to the side as she reveals herself, exposing curves she still seems to be adjusting to. They’re accentuated, the sleek dress hugging every dip and contour of her body, from slender hips to a pinched waist and up to the soft swell of her chest. You can see the sculpt of her muscles through the thin material, faintly outlining her tight stomach with wrist-long sleeves snug around her lean arms. 

Only subtly, skin shows. There’s a slit opening extending from the bottom of the dress up to her lower right hip. It’s cheeky, alluring, offering a hint of her toned, shapely thighs, all while the heart-shaped cutout on the chest perfectly frames her jolly roger tattoo—just as you expected. 

Law moves in the silence. Her fingers instinctively reach up to fidget with the short strands of her hair, an absentminded motion of subtle nervousness. She's quick to stop once she looks down and realizes what she’s doing, tucking the strands behind her ear in self-composure before lowering her hand. Lost in your own thoughts, you watch her, not noticing how quiet you are until she speaks.

“Well?” she huffs. In a frustrated search of your response, her gaze finally shifts towards you. You make an effort to snap yourself out of your enamored daze. 

“Well,” you repeat. The right words are hard to find, but you suppose Law’s never been one for dramatics. You settle for a simple way to express her indescribable beauty. “You’re stunning.” 

It’s straightforward, blunt, honest. Just the way she likes it. She’s flattered, you can tell, but she shouldn’t just take it from you. Walking towards her, you place your hands on her shoulders and turn her towards a nearby mirror to see for herself.

“What did I tell you?” you hum, a glint of pride in your eyes as Law’s gaze trails up and down her body. “You make everything look good.” 

She knows. She has to—her demeanor may still be a bit tentative, but there’s a growing approval, rooted in satisfaction upon seeing how objectively flattering the dress is. For the first time since the change, she sees herself through your eyes, a vision of beauty and strength staring back at her. You hadn’t expected her to embrace the dress, or to fully grow accustomed to her new figure, and she doesn’t. But she’s beginning to tolerate it. 

That’s good enough for you. 

The moment is somewhat short lived. You’d admire her for hours if you could, but people around you seem to think similarly. Enthralled glances from onlookers become apparent, unwanted attention that Law promptly avoids. She tugs her hat down accordingly and turns away from prying eyes, redirecting her focus to the dressing room. 

“We’re leaving now.” 

That was the deal, after all. You don’t prolong it any more. Law changes back into her regular clothes, and the two of you soon find yourselves walking throughout the shopping center, straight into the direction of the island’s rocky ports. Home isn’t too far, the Polar Tang docked nearby. Despite Law’s eagerness to return, something catches her eye along the way. 

An antique shop lies just ahead. Law’s gaze lingers, surely trying to peek through the glass windows for a glimpse of what the shop could offer. Her collection of commemorative coins is something you’re fond of, something endearing, a hobby she could spend hours rambling about if she let herself. Whenever the topic comes up, you always indulge her, but you feel encouraging her interests isn’t enough. She needs to be spoiled. 

“I’ll buy you something,” you offer, already knowing she’ll want to see if there'd be anything to add to her collection. 

“You’ve bought me everything.” Law glances at the bags of clothes you insisted on holding for her. 

“I’ll buy you more.” Your assurance carries a subtle playfulness as you head towards the entrance, coaxing her to follow with the soft chime of the door’s bell. 

Above all else, you want Law to enjoy herself. It’s only natural as her partner, prioritizing her happiness and comfort like it’s second nature. Still, you know she never wanted to spend her day clothes shopping. You feel as if this could help, inviting her to shop for something she wants to buy rather than has to.

Yet despite your continuous efforts to help her enjoy herself, and to perhaps ease her into the unfamiliarity of her changed body, there’s still an apparent weight lingering on her mind.

Even as Law becomes engrossed in an intricately crafted coin display, her focus soon shifts back to you. You can feel it. Pausing from across the shop, you meet her eyes with a questioning look. She simply blinks, breaking the momentary connection to redirect her attention back to the coins as if nothing is wrong. 

You’d believe it and chalk her silent stare down to her usual introspective awkwardness, if not for the touch of vulnerability in the depth of her eyes. It was like an unsaid question, a stubborn thought part of her wants to voice, but can’t quite find the words to do so.

You hope to give her the opportunity. When the two of you continue back to the submarine, distancing yourselves from the island’s townscape and the eyes of its people, your affection turns more physical. The way your hand lingers on the small of her back offers a subtle sense of security. It expresses openness, reassures support, softly reminding her that you’re here.

She stays quiet throughout the walk, and you don’t mind. She doesn’t need to force it. Aware of how difficult it can be for her to express complicated emotions, you’re patient, staying by her side to listen when she’s ready. It’s unconditional, nonjudgmental, tender and genuine and devoted. All you want is for her to know that. 

Maybe tonight, you can remind her exactly how much you love her.

#one piece fanfiction #one piece x reader #trafalgar law smut #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar d law x reader #my writing

[bratzforchris]

Inked Daisies (Chapter 2)

A series

Summary: For the past year, you've been running the flower shop that's next door to your friend, Matt's, tattoo studio. But what happens when the feelings start to get more than friendly?

Read Chapter 1 here

Pairing: Tattoo artist!Matt x floristfem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol/drinking (reader and the triplets are 22 here), characters walking in on each other showering, nsfw content (no actual sex), a few uses of y/n (sometimes it's inevitable, y'all :P)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Y'all are about to kill me for this cliffhanger 🤗

“You’re here!” Chris smiled, throwing open the door. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“It was yesterday, Chris,” You giggled. “Now let us in so we don’t drop your dinner.”

“Us?” the youngest triplet asked you, cocking his head to the side. 

Chris opened the front door wider to reveal Matt standing behind you, clearly annoyed at the fact that he hadn’t been let into his own home yet. You were holding a box of breadsticks and drinks from your favorite local pizza place while Matt carried the four boxes of pizza. Despite your protests that you could carry the pizza, the boy had refused, saying that he could do it because it was him and his brothers that could easily slam a whole pizza each by themselves. Secretly, you just thought it was cute that Matt wanted to help you, despite his “tough guy” façade. 

“You guys came together?” a look of what could have been confusion, but also something else flashed across Chris’ face. 

“You’re wack if you think I’m leaving her downtown alone at night. She’s too trusting; it’s like a puppy.” Matt murmured, shoving past you and Chris and into the house. 

“Uh oh, Mattitude’s out now.” whatever expression had been on your best friend’s face was gone now, leaving you with the happy, sunny Chris you had always known.

“Out now? It’s always out.” You laughed, making your way into the kitchen you were all too familiar with.

“I heard that.” 

You giggled to yourself, sitting the boxes down on the island. Breathing in the familiar scent of the boys’ home, any trace of the unease you had felt at Matt’s earlier demeanor disappeared. The triplets had been your best friends since high school, and not much had changed now that you were all adults, other than the fact that your hangouts were less frequent. Just like old times, you all piled onto the couch with your plates of pizza and drinks, scrolling through Netflix for a movie to watch. 

You had sandwiched yourself between Nick and Chris, while Matt sat at the other end of the couch, silently eating his pizza and scrolling through his phone. You didn’t take the silence personally, though. After the conversation at the shop about the man who was making his job more difficult, you couldn’t blame the brunette for wanting a break. Though you weren’t as close with Matt as with the other two brothers, you still cared deeply for him. If that meant him being a little more quiet in order to rest, you didn’t mind it. 

You turned towards Nick, snatching the leftover crust off his plate. “The stickers are selling well.” You stated, taking a sip of your Fanta. 

Being close friends with a graphic designer as a business owner definitely had its perks; for example, the small, cartoon-style flower stickers that read “One Trick Peony” had sold out within three hours of your shop being open for the past week since you’d started stocking them. Despite his busy job as one of the most reputable graphic designers in Los Angeles, Nick still found time to prioritize your business. The stickers had been just one of the hit merchandise pieces he’d supplied you with. 

“Do you know what you should sell?” Chris added, poking your cheek and then smiling when you looked at him fondly. “Alcohol. Lavender martinis would sell like crazy in a flower shop.”

“I’m not getting a liquor license,” You snorted. “Besides, I don’t even think the store has enough room for a bar.”

“Who said anything about a bar? All you need is a bartender.” Chris hummed, pulling you into his lap. 

It was true. Chris had become quite skilled in his ability to make drinks any and everywhere over the past year since he’d gotten his bartender certification. In your opinion, the job was perfect for him. The fast-paced, fun environment and the amount of money you could make if you were entertaining and talkative was right up the brunette’s alley. His good nature made it pretty normal for him to come home on any given Friday night with about 600 dollars in cash. 

You snuggled into your best friend’s chest, breathing in his boyish scent happily. “Maybe one day we can open a flower and brunch place with a bar.” You told him. 

“You guys hear that? I’m the one Y/N wants to run a business with.” Chris chuckled, sticking his tongue out at the other two triplets. 

“Just wait til she figures out how you actually act,” Nick grumbled, pressing play on the movie you all had decided on. “Now be quiet.”

Before looking over at the movie, you turned your eyes towards Matt. He was still withdrawn into himself, curled into the L-shaped corner of the couch now. He had put his phone down, though, and in a feat of chance, turned to look at you at the exact same moment. Matt cocked his head like he wanted to ask you a question, but then shook his head, averting his eyes. You shrugged, figuring it still had to do with the exhaustion and stress from earlier in the day, but you couldn’t help but notice the feeling growing in your tummy at the thought that Matt had been looking at you first.

One terrible, low-budget movie later, you sat up out of Chris’ hold and looked around the living room. Nick had abandoned the movie in favor of his laptop, seemingly editing some sort of advertisement. That was just his personality. If something recreational didn’t immediately capture his attention, he was back to working his ass off. Maybe that was what made him such a successful entrepreneur, but either way, you admired him for helping people bring their dreams for their designs to fruition. Chris was scrolling through his phone, every now and then migrating into his work group chat to chuckle at the stories his fellow bartenders had to share about cutting someone off for the night. Matt, on the other, had fallen asleep, chin resting in his hand. You felt rather bad for him; January was always a stressful month for tattoo artists and piercers because people had Christmas money and gift cards, and they wanted their modifications to be healed by summer time. 

“I’m gonna shower,” You told your two (awake) best friends, standing up and stretching. “Do you guys mind?” 

“You know that’s like asking to shower in your own home, right?” Chris stood up behind you, tickling your sides. 

“It’s…still…the polite thing to do!” You laughed, gasping for breath at the tickling. 

“But yes, we don’t care. Go ahead.” Chris placed a friendly kiss on the back of your head. 

It wasn’t out of the ordinary for you and your best friends to share platonic cheek kisses, cuddles, and hugs, but it didn’t make your heart any less happy. You smiled, making your way to Matt’s bathroom. You had kept shower stuff at the triplets’ home ever since the four of you had moved to LA. After all, you were at their house almost more than you were at your apartment. You trekked towards Matt’s bathroom since it was the closest to the living room. You knew he wouldn’t mind, especially because A) he was asleep and B) you’d done it before. 

You warmed the water up, ridding yourself of your clothes from the day, and stepping into the steamy heaven. You didn’t bother locking the door, knowing that on the off chance Matt did wake up, Chris and Nick would inform him that you were using his bathroom. You began to wash your hair, letting the rose scent of your shampoo fill the bathroom as you massaged your scalp, washing away the worries of both a busy day at your business, and the odd encounters you’d been having with the middle triplet all evening. You were so caught up in thinking that you didn’t even hear the doorknob to the bathroom turn as Matt stepped into the bathroom. 

Matt knew he shouldn’t have. You were one of his closest friends. There was no way he should be watching you showering. It was weird and wrong on so many levels, yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away from your body. You looked peaceful, head thrown back under the water and eyes closed, soft moans escaping your lips as you relaxed. The way the warm water and soap suds caressed your body and curves as they cascaded into the drain made him think about what other white substances would look like dripping down your body in the shower. 

What the fuck? Why was he thinking about railing you? You two weren’t even that close and he didn’t like you like that. Still, Matt couldn’t deny the tightening in his cock at the image of you in front of him, and the image of you in his mind. He told himself that it was just because he hadn’t been laid in so long, but the brunette couldn’t help the soft groan that made its way out of his mouth. 

At the sound, your eyes flew open, head turning towards the door. “Matt?” You futilely tried to cover yourself, knowing it was useless. Matt had already seen it all. 

“Fuck, I…uh, fuck–Y/N, I’m sorry,” he grumbled, clearing his throat. “I was just coming to brush my teeth and Nick and Chris didn’t tell me you were…in here.”

You shut the water off quickly, grabbing the towel you’d thrown over the side of the glass door and wrapping it around your body. “Shit, I’m sorry, Matt. I should’ve locked the door.”

“It’s um, it’s fine,” Matt coughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as his face turned red. “I’m just gonna…grab my toothbrush and use Chris’ bathroom tonight. ‘S all yours in here.”

You watched as Matt grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste and scrambled out of the bathroom. You were still standing in the draining shower, dripping wet and shivering. Part of you couldn’t believe that one of your best male friends had seen you showering, but for some reason, another part of you wasn’t mad about it. Unbeknownst to you, though, Matt was feeling the same way in his cold shower downstairs. 

tags ♡:  @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy

note ♡: if you'd like to be added to my taglist, click here <3

#inked daisies #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagines #matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matthew bernard sturniolo smut #matthew sturniolo smut #matthew bernard sturniolo #matthew sturniolo x reader #matthew sturniolo imagine #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagines #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo fulff #christopher owen sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #the sturniolo triplets #nick sturniolo #nick sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets x reader

[totaly-obsessed]

Book Love

Alessia Russo x reader UNC

-> Alessia loves how different the two of you are, despite everyone's teasing

-> Special thanks to @babsisbakery for helping out with ideas

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Alessia Russo was hopelessly in love with her girlfriend. And it was no secret. But the blonde's popularity didn’t save her from the teasing she received on the daily.

She constantly heard ‘Why would you date someone like that?’

‘You could have anybody.’

A couple of times she was even asked if she dated you because of a bet or because she just wanted to use you. That was the first time that you saw the harsh captain that she could be – making her teammates run until they felt like vomiting blood.

Not all the teasing was bad though – a lot of it actually quite funny. At least to you. Lessi would still get mad, but when she saw you laughing, her problem vanished into thin air.

Whenever you would show up at their practice sessions, the blonde did not get a break. She was too busy staring at you to notice the girls throwing bibs at her. You did not notice it either, too deep into your book – not really being interested in the sport and just showing up for your girlfriend.

Lotte, the blonde’s best friend, loved that she was dating you. You felt like a safe place to her. A cozy blanket that could shut out the rest of the world. You always had an ear open for the half-brit so that she could rant about her latest book without having to explain why some things just annoyed her about it.

While she loved the two of you, Lotte could not stand hanging out with both of you at the same time. When Alessia was around you, you could hardly stand up without the footballer following you like a lost puppy. And the blonde would not stop looking at you until you left the room – so she just ignored her fellow lioness until you were gone.

Alessia’s favorite part of the week? The evening after a match. No matter if they won or lost, she would spend the evening the exact same way. You would join her in her room, curled up in her bed. The blonde's head heavy in your lap as you stroked her hair with one hand, the other holding the book that she picked.

She loved you, your touch, and your voice – so having you read to her after an exhausting game?

Jackpot.

Most of the time you made it two chapters deep before the striker fell asleep in your lap, and you did not dare to continue reading.

One time you had read just a couple of pages more until you realized that she had fallen asleep – but it was already too late. When you took out the book the next time, there was a pout on the blonde’s lip, as she immediately rolled off your lap.

“What is wrong Less? It’s our book!”

A deep sigh left her body, still ignoring you. “Baby, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

She did not forgive you.

She really did not.

At least until your hand had found its way into her hair. With a deep hum, her body relaxed into you. “What’s up, huh?”

“You read without me!” You could not really take the ‘anger’ in her voice seriously. Not when she was purring like a kitten, whining when your hand stilled for a second too long.

“Oh! I am sorry my girl. Promise I did not mean to.” But the blonde did not let up, still having her back turned to you. So you took to your last resort – back scratches and praises.

While she voiced her complaints that your hands left her head, she shut up really quick when she felt them creeping up her shirt You lightly scratched her back, whispering sweet nothings into your girlfriend’s ear, as she was on her way to dreamland.

You knew that the blonde had never really been mad at you for reading ahead, but it seemed that she just needed a little extra touch this evening.

Alessia was always open about her feelings, but she never wanted to cross boundaries when it came to physical touch – always letting you decide how much the two of you touched. If it was up to her there would not fit a single piece of paper between you.

While you wished that her teammates could see Alessia this way, so much softer than they were used to, you were glad that you could keep this side of hers to yourself. She was fiercely loyal and would shut anybody up who would make remarks about the differences between the two of you.

She wished it could stay like this forever. Being able to carry your books through the hallway. Seeing you on the bench for her. Laying in bed with you reading to her, falling asleep to your soothing voice.

But she knew that both of you had to grow up – even if she did not want to.

She wished for a love like the ones from your many books. A love so deep, it would need much more than different countries to break you apart.

#woso x reader #woso imagine #arsenal wfc x reader #engwnt x reader #woso imagines #alessia russo #alessia russo x reader #woso

[vauxxy]

the moon ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

ECLIPSE- PROLOGUE, PART ONE, PART TWO

luke castellan x reader

ABOUT - luke invites you, the strange dionysus girl, to spar with him. luke makes a revelation, and you invite him to hang out.

A/N - hey y’all! it’s been a while!! so here i am, with an introductory chapter to a three parter luke x reader series called ‘eclipse’.

there’s not a lot happening in this chapter, but it’s important to the next chapter me thinks :P

also i think i’m sooo funny 😭 the title will make even more sense soon ok

WARNINGS - swearing n alcohol mention and that’s it

to say luke castellan didn’t like you would be a big understatement. but it would also be untrue.

the reality of his feelings towards you were much more complicated than simply ‘liking’ or ‘hating’ you.

his feelings towards you were completely incomprehensible. and he hated it.

you were just… so strange. the eldest daughter of dionysus, a talented actress, a rebellious girl with a sharp tongue and an even sharper blade. you were everything all at once; and it perplexed him to no end.

maybe that’s why your rivalry persisted throughout all these years. you made no sense, and luke needed everything to make sense. he needed everything to be predictable and understandable.

and you were neither of those things.

but there was also a comfort in the way that you consistently confused him- a sense of irregularity that provided him with the same comfort he would receive from those who were less strange than you were. maybe a bit more comfort, it fact.

it was truly comforting; the fact that you were always there to annoy and pester him when he was training, or at the campfire, or when you asked him to spar.

it was comforting knowing there was always someone there to challenge him- someone there to make him feel the same feeling over and over again… until the feeling changed.

“y/n, i need to talk to you.”

his voice echoed throughout the training grounds, alarming you enough to whip your head around fast to find the source of such commotion.

you were standing in the middle of the grounds, the remains of the practice dummies you were throwing your axe at scattered around the premises.

luke watched your hair move with the soft summer wind as you turned around to face him, no doubt in his mind that you knew exactly what he wanted.

“yeah? ‘bout what?”

your face was a little red and your arms were a little tired from your undoubtably taxing training session. if luke saw you like this a few months ago, he’d chuckle at how disheveled you looked.

but it was not a few months ago.

to distract himself from your appearance, his eyes trailed down to your hands as you tightly gripped your axe. it always freaked him out seeing you with that gnarly axe- throwing that thing around like it weighed nothing.

“hello? about what?” you asked again breathily, swinging your axe back and forth aimlessly as you tried to get his attention.

it seemed as though he had been distracted by something. something strange and pretty and unusual. and whatever it was, he needed to snap out of it before he went crazy.

“i need a sparring partner,” he stated blankly, leaning his back against the nearest pillar and letting out an exasperated breath.

“you’re the only one in camp who can give me somewhat of a challenge. anyways,” he took a good look at you, tapping his fingers against his forearm.

“i’m bored. wanna fight?”

you shrugged your shoulders, recklessly tossing your axe to the side and unsheathing your sword.

“yeah, okay,” you said dryly.

your hair fell over your face as you looked up at him, groaning in irritation at the minor inconvenience.

“hold my sword for a minute?” you asked blankly as you offered your sword out to luke for him to take.

luke looked down at you, amused by how easily you were able to ask him for a favour- even if it was just a minor one. it seemed like you were growing a lot more reliant on him these days. or maybe more comfortable with him? who knows.

“yeah, okay,” he said reluctantly, taking the sword from your hands.

he watched you in silence as you took a step back, running your hand through your hair.

“you really aren't much of a talker, are you?” he asked, smiling smugly as his eyes followed the flow of your hair.

you pulled a hair tie off of your wrist, quickly tying my your hair into a lazy ponytail.

“oh, i’m a big talker. just not with you,” you said bluntly, your voice playful and smug as you flashed him a mischievous smile.

luke liked it when you smiled. he liked to imagine that all the stars in the sky got together on the night you were born, and decided to use their stardust to construct ever feature on your face. your dainty freckles, the shining bright whites of your eyes- the pure magic of your little smile.

‘the fuck is wrong with you? stop being weird.’

you quickly took back the sword, your fingers grazing against his during the little exchange.

“i can tell,” luke commented breathily, raising an eyebrow. his eyes narrowed slightly, before he raised his sword as well.

“you ready? or are you just gonna keep standing there looking pretty?”

“i’m always ready, castellan,” you hummed, taking a few steps towards the middle of the training grounds, and getting into position.

“whatever,” he rolled his shoulders and followed suite. “on three?”

you nodded, and let your body tense up as he started counting down.

“one, two, three-“

Luke lunged forward, stabbing his sword towards your chest. He made good use of the length of his blade, keeping as much distance between you and him as possible.

despite this, you managed to quickly dodge him, your sword clanging against his as you bit down on your lip. you quickly attempted a shot at his waist, your eyes locked on his sword as you shuffled around.

Luke smirked as the two blades clashed together, you going for his legs and him going for your chest. he attempted another stab at your chest, and when you evaded, he kicked out to try and trip you- something he figured would throw you off, or at the very least, off-balance.

you seemed to not fall for such cheap tricks. as he backed away to create some distance between you and him, he smiled. this was exactly what he wanted.

a challenge.

he heard you groan, offering a sly smirk before watching you attempt a sneaky stab at his arm.

your hair bounced with every movement, your technique airy and light- almost unpredictable enough to make him second guess his own strategy.

you speed caught luke off-guard, taken aback by the sudden stab. he definitely wasn’t expecting that.

your fast and swift movements, paired with the excellent control of your blade made him sweat a bit. he had no choice but to back away, before lunging forward with his sword once more.

you quickly dodged his attack, the sound of blades clanging echoing throughout the area as your breaths got heavier and heavier.

you moved forwards, attempting another attack at his chest.

he quickly blocked your sword, moving in with a stab at your neck- but you were too quick. you resisted the attack, hitting his sword with yours. you shuffled around again, attacking his other arm as you took a second to study him and his movements.

you attacked him yet again, moving his blade to block. the same sounds of metal clashing against each other continuing.

your attack at his arm was successful. he’d taken a little step back at the sudden pain.

luke raised his sword for a stab at your side, attempting to catch you right in the gut—this would put you on the defensive for sure… right?

you quickly blocked his attack on my side, left with a little cut on your forearm.

luke was shocked at how easily you were able to defend yourself against him. you had been training and sparring and competing against him for years- obviously you were a talented fighter.

but luke had grown accustomed to winning. now? he felt intimidated.

like knew his arms were his weak spot, but he hadn’t expected you to realize this yourself. your counterattacks came quicker now that you’d discovered the most effective way to get him out of commission.

the two of you were now evenly-matched in the sense that neither of you could land an attack at the other, and this was starting to get exciting.

you started trying to take cheap shots at his arms and legs, pissing luke off further. it was like you cracked the code.

you were winning.

He grunted, breathing heavily. he was struggling to move against each of your quick attacks, trying to match the sheer speed and agility of your balde.

and to his surprise; he was starting to get tired.

as soon as he tried attacking you, you blocked it- hard. this caused the sword to fly out of his hand.

disarming him was much easier after he was tired and distracted.

then, you lunged at him.

you held your blade against luke’s neck as you pushed him to the ground, straddling his hips as you looked down at him.

“do i win?” you asked smugly, restraining his movements.

you had giving luke a run for his money. the best swordsman at camp was now at the mercy of your sword.

while you two were similar in skill across all aspects of fighting, you had rarely ever beaten him in a sword fight.

“yeah, sure, sure you win,” he growled, attempting to shove you off of his lap.

“now get off me.”

he looked up at you, noticing the proud smile plastered across your face. it wasn’t cocky, or smug- it was proud.

and as much as he’d hate to admit it, he was genuinely impressed with you.

you finally lifted your body off his, standing up as you twirled your sword around.

“huh. i didn’t know i was this good with a sword…” you mumbled, looking down at the blade.

luke stared up at you, rolling his eyes as he got up.

“still obnoxious as ever, though,” he mumbled dryly.

luke glanced at your sword for a moment before turning his gaze away. he walked over to his sword, picking it up off the ground and sheathing it as he turned back around to face you.

“you’re not bad. obviously,” he said bluntly, his cheeks red and his face sweaty from the challenging sparring match as he walked back over to you.

“your attacks are unpredictable. quick, agile. you have a good technique.”

you furrowed your brows, a little confused by his kind comments and praises.

“technique? i just kept my eyes on your sword and tried to get you tired enough to disarm you,” you explained, sheathing your sword.

“i’d hardly call that technique. you’re much better than i am,” you added.

that was unexpected. a compliment? or… was that sarcastic? what the fuck is going on?

you were probably just tired; that’s why you were downplaying your achievements. that’s why you were offering him praise despite his shortcomings.

“i’m probably stronger than you, but you’re much faster. agility is just as important as strength,” luke replied, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

you shrugged your shoulders, smiling smugly as you took out your ponytail.

“well, i gotta make up for my lack of raw muscles somehow,” you retorted breathily, your tone playful and your voice light as you smiled at him.

you were a child of dionysus- you weren’t supposed to be a fighter, you were supposed to be an actress. but it made sense for you to go against the grain like that. you were an unpredictable, hotheaded, arrogant, theatrical girl… who could also somehow take him in a fight.

luke tried not to gawk at how your hair fell over your shoulder as you shook your head.

as much as he hated noticing it, your hair was really pretty.

it was probably one of his favourite things about you.

luke stared into your eyes as you spoke, his gaze unwavering as he admired your sheer confidence- even when downplaying yourself.

and there it was. the same feeling that had been fucking him over everyday for the past 2 months. a feeling that he was starting to get uncomfortably familiar with recently; fondness. admiration. adoration.

you were the moon. constant, yet always changing. bright, yet most comfortable surrounded by the confines of the dark.

you were his moon.

and you were beautiful.

‘ew, stop.’

luke didn’t appreciate the new soft spot he was harbouring for a certain dionysus girl. he hated how his heart was constantly making space for her. and he hated that his brain was just as complicit.

“i mean, you don’t need to ‘make up’ for anything. muscle isn’t really that important in a sword fight,” he said, crossing his arms as he finally pulled his eyes away from yours.

you nodded lightheartedly, idly running your hand through your hair as you turned your head away from his.

gods, he could watch you play with your hair all day if he could. of course, he’d prefer to play with it himself, but watching you do it was almost as good.

“hm. i guess you’re right,” you sighed, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your shorts lazily.

“anyways, sword fighting is way too much effort. i prefer throwing axes at people.”

luke smirked, rolling his eyes playfully and he looked over at you.

“i still can’t believe you’d choose an axe over a sword.” he couldn’t help but laugh a bit, “you’re so… eccentric.”

“what do you expect? mr. d is my dad,” you said playfully, earning a reluctant chuckle from luke.

“i guess i shouldn’t be surprised,” he replied. “but seriously, who chooses an axe as their primary weapon? why not a bow or something?”

you rolled you eyes, shaking your head at the boy in disagreement.

“the arrows are too flimsy. i prefer wielding something with a bit more weight,” you explained. luke shook his head in disbelief, chuckling dryly.

“you’re so weird… who else uses an axe for their weapon of choice?” he asked out of genuine curiosity, a hint of sarcasm laced in his tone.

“and don’t say something like ‘oh, tons of people’ or something.”

“oh, tons of people,” you repeated, mocking him playfully as you took your hands out of your pockets. you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, letting out a smug chuckle.

“shut up,” luke scoffed, his usual smirk plastered on his face.

gods, it felt like his feelings were becoming more evident by the minute. he was going insane.

‘you like her, don’t you?’

the thought popped into his head again.

‘shut it out, or else it’ll get awkward.’

he wasn’t about to ruin the fun you were having.

and besides, he didn’t like you. he couldn’t like you.

you were literally the daughter of the camp director. and you were insufferable. or… well- that’s a lie. you used to be insufferable.

it seemed as though age had provided you two with a new sense of maturity; letting your rivalry calm down and allowing you two to finally get along.

and as much as luke hated to admit it, he kinda liked getting to know you. he liked spending time with you. but he always did- that’s why you two spend so much time fighting, right?

luke was suddenly snapped out of his head by the sound of footsteps hitting the floor of the training grounds. he looked up to see your back as you walked away, his eyebrows furrowing at your silent departure.

“where are you going?” he called out.

you turned around quickly, quirking your head to the side.

“the campfire, obviously?” your said, your hands stuffed in your pockets again.

“aren’t you coming?” you asked, staring him down playfully with a friendly smile.

luke’s eyebrows rose, his body freezing as he thought it over.

‘she’s mocking you.’

‘no she isn’t- you’re the leader of the hermes cabin. you have to come to the campfires, dickhead.’

‘can’t be bothered, nah.’

“i have better things to do, thanks.”

He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he stood in the middle of the training grounds.

you raised your eyebrows, a little smirk emerging on your face.

“you sure? because as soon as the younger campers head back to their cabins, us older demigods are going down to the lake,” you said, crossing your arms to mirror his defensive stance.

“… and i’ve got a bottle of wine and half a bottle of vodka hidden under my bed,” you whispered as you took a step forwards, shooting him a mischievous wink.

vodka? that was enough to pull him in, even if they were supposed to have a little rivalry going. but then again, they were barley rivals anymore.

it’s not like he was big on drinking, but he was big on discarding his responsibilities- even if it was just for a few hours.

he paused for a moment, staring at you as he contemplated whether or not he should come to the campfire.

luke didn’t even care if you guys didn’t like each other that much, he still wanted to spend more time with you. besides, he didn’t see the problem in exploiting the way you guys were being a lot more civil to each other recently in order to get a little tipsy.

“yeah fine,” he mumbled, “i’ll come.”

#ECLIPSE SERIES VAUXXY #luke x reader #luke castellan drabbles #luke castellan #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan imagines #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x dionysus!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #pjo series #pjo disney+ #charlie bushnell #percy jackson

[hart269]

Slithering Hearts

Chapter 1

Pairing : Regulus Black x Fem! Reader

Synopsis : You begin an unlikely friendship with the little Black. And soon your whole life seems to have become a tumultuous pathway. The catch, James Potter is your brother.

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

You never know how much you're gonna miss a person until they are going away, even for a small period of time. Less to say you were feelling a little bummed watching your dear brother James standing in the platform waiting for the Hogwarts train. It was gonna be his first year, and even though you were gonna join him next year, it still didn't change the fact that he was going away, that too for a year.

While he busy getting being fussed over by mum and dad, you glanced up at the sound of the train coming. James turned excitedly, hugging mom and dad, before he could fully turn to you, you jumped on him cluthching him, "Aww, little zouwu, are you going to miss me"

"No", came your muffled sound, James patted your back, "I know I am special but don't cry over me now". He grinned at your glare.

"I'm not crying" you huffed.

"Whatever you say" James smirked.

"Write me letters" you mumbled.

"I will" He smiled, he probably will, if he didn't you had plans to *ahem* renovate his room.

And thus he walked towards the train, you looked around the station to see similar scenarios, your eyes met another kid's, your age probably considering he was still with his parents, his mom seemed to be scolding the older brother probably who looked physically pained to stand there. You waved at the boy, causing him to stare confusingly. That's when the train signalled, causing the older one to run towards the train. And soon you saw the train took off while clinging onto your dad's hand. "Let's go now", your mum muttered. As you turned to leave, you once again turned towards the boy you saw, just to find him already looking at you.

After that the whole year went in a blur, you learned about James's new adventures every week from his letters, there were ramblings of the new friends he had made, the annoying and the good teachers, journeys to hagrid's hut, about pranks that even your parents didn't know of and of the many adventures he had. All that only went into details when he came back for christmas and summer break.

The whole of summer break you pestered James to tell you everything you should know. You sat on the couch, legs resting on his stomach as he remain sprawled on the couch.

"Jamie, what house do you think I'll go to?"

"Hufflepuff, obviously" James smirked.

"What, why" you huffed, crosing your arms.

"I mean, you're not smart, not brave, not ambitious and that leaves you in- James voice craclked as his face was hit by the force of the couch pillow. He removed it, getting up staring at you with a malicious glint, causing you to run yelling "Dad, help me, James is hitting me"

"I didn't even -she did it first"

The Diagon alley was always a wonderful place to be, they always had some new and exciting things, you got your wand, a sleek yew wood with white river monster spine at its core.

Mr.Ollivander had glanced at her strangely, "Treat it poorly and you won't access its power, treat it right, it will be loyal to no other". You had nodded, deciding later to brew upon it. For the most part, you were happy to get your own, cause when James got it last year, he didn't even let you touch his, no matter how much you begged him.

You were currently left by your parents at the pet shop, you were searching for a good owl, when a small hustle caught your eye, a snow great horned owl, fighting with another brown one. As you came close, he stood up and stood in the front, fluffing his feathers as if it had done no wrong, cute, you thought.

Taking the owl in your hand, you had turned swiftly, almost colliding with the boy who was standing behind you, the owl screeched, catching him, you exclaimed a loud "Merlin". Staring wide eyed at him you seem to find his face quite familiar, but you couldn't pinpoint, why. Regulus hadn't meant to stand there but he too had found the owl's commotioninteresting. And before he could move, you collided into him, he kept looking at you before realizing he was blocking the way, "Oh, sorry" he muttered moved sideways, You smiled moving past him.

He stared back at the owl on the rack, he lifted his finger, the barn owl moved towards him, nuzlzling in his fingers, he smiled "She's sweet', taking the owl to the counter, he again glaced at the same girl, the shopowner smiled, "Oh, the lovebirds", Regulus head snapped towards the cashier, "What". The shopowner chuckled, "I meant the owls, they are quite in love with each other". You glanced at her curiously "But they were fighting". The shopkeeper smiled looking at them, "Oh, they haven't realised it yet".

Author's Note : The writer means no Hufflepuff slander, it is meant to taken as just a jest. The writer fully supports Hufflepufs like the other houses.

#regulus black #regulus black x female reader #regulus black x reader #regulus black x you #regulus black x y/n #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet #marauders #james potter #sirius black #marauders era

[mykinkyyandere]

I See You (Chapter 1)

AO3

Pairings: Yandere/Dark! Sully Family X f!Reader

Summary: You know that after the Sully brothers found you, your life will never be the same again. A part of you want to forget about your past and start a new life with this obsessed family, but your past is not very happy about it. No matter where you run, your past hunts you down, and you are not sure if your new protective family can protect you from it.

Warnings: Only this chapter's pairings and warnings, yandere, obsession, possession, kidnapping, jealousy, overprotective, small sized/shaped reader, major (18/21) teen reader/Neteyam/Lo'ak

The pleasant sunlight reflected through the trees danced on Lo'ak's skin. When he smiled, you thought it made him even sincerer. Of course, it could also be due to the fact that he's been trying to approach you quite gently for the last half hour. Neteyam, on the other hand, remained in the shade and his serious face failed to give you warmth. He kept watching you and warning his brother from time to time.

Lo'ak tried to get your attention by waving the leaf in his hand. You were tiny. "Hey! Look what I have."

Neteyam rolled his eyes and hit Lo'ak's hand, causing him to drop it. "Stop it."

Yes, he's got your attention like he wanted but not with that big glowing leaf, with his tall blue body. You were obviously scared, he could tell based upon that shaky little body of yours.

"Hey-" Lo'ak protested him. Then he knelt down to be the same height as you, but of course he was still too tall. You looked into his big, sharp yellow eyes as if you were hypnotized. When he held out his hand to you, you leaned even more, like it was possible, into the tree behind you and made a timid sound.

Neteyam grabbed Lo'ak by the shoulder and warned him harshly. "What are you doing?"

He shook his brother's hand off his shoulder and turned his head to him with an annoyed expression. "And what are YOU doing, besides nothing?"

"I'm trying not to scare this human girl. We must wait for dad, he knows people better than us." But he still knelt down next to Lo'ak and tried to look less threatful. People could feel under pressure just because of their height.

"See, it wouldn't be bad if you listened to me sometimes." Lo'ak withdrew his smug gaze from him and turned it to you. You haven't said any word since they found you. When you tried to escape, they easily cut off your path and cornered you. You thought they were going to hurt you, kill you. But these two proved you wrong. They kept their curious gaze hovering over you and tried to communicate with you with various strange things, mostly the younger boy called Lo'ak did. Neteyam seemed like more cautious and quite.

"I'm Lo'ak. My name is Lo'ak." Maybe it was the tenth time he said his name. He was also using his hands so that you could understand him better. "Do you understand me?" He pointed himself, "Lo'ak."

"I don't think this is working. Look at her." He pointed with his head to your scared and confused face. "I guess she doesn't understand us."

"Or she can't talk." Lo'ak took a flower that he thought was beautiful and handed it to you.

"Perhaps both. She didn't try to talk to us either." Neteyam took his hand to his thoughtful face and tried to understand. "What is she doing here alone, it's very dangerous for her."

Lo'ak smiled when you timidly took the flower he handed to you. "Simple, she's lost. But we can take her with us. She'll be safe with us."

Neteyam didn't react to the idea of taking you with them. You thought he didn't want you and you were relieved by this possibility. "There must be others around. I'm sure she's with them, but why did they bring someone like... her?" This time he pointed your poor body which was clinged to a tree. Your small size aroused their curiosity, but while Lo'ak had fun with it, Neteyam was a little more... concerned. He made it clear that he certainly did not approve. "Look how small she is! Did they send her as bait?"

"Whatever the reason is, they're probably looking for her right now. Or... they left her for dead. What do you suggest?" You didn't hesitate this time when Lo'ak gave you another flower. He didn't need to hear his brother's consent. He rather asked him to make him say the obvious answer out loud.

"Of course we're taking her with us. Why do you think I asked dad to come here?"

You couldn't hide your nervousness when he mentioned that the possibilities of releasing you were unlikely from the very beginning. You dropped the flowers Lo'ak gave you and tried to run in the opposite direction. But before you could even take a real step, Neteyam easily grabbed you from where he was kneeling and put you in your place. "Okay, you definitely understand us."

When you tried to run away again, he grabbed you, and this time he didn't free you. As though it wasn't enough that your arm was stuck in his huge hand, Lo'ak also grabbed your other arm and together they forced you to sit down. You looked at them in despair.

"I think she didn't like the idea of coming with us." Lo'ak picked up the flowers you threw on the ground and wanted to give them to you again, but you struggled in despair and started crying.

"We won't hurt you. We want to protect you. See, dangerous place!" Neteyam assured you many times that they would not harm you, but you refused to listen to him and tried to get out of their hands as if your life depended on it. Your arms were hurting, and their rock-still grip hadn't loosened even for a moment. Their bright yellow eyes didn't help either. So intense, so alarming.

"I know how you feel. You feel like an outsider, just like me." When you finally got tired and stopped struggling, Lo'ak leaned to your face and tilted his head, trying to make eye contact. There was excitement in his eyes. "You think you don't belong, but- but believe me I've never felt I belonged either. We are the same."

It was hard to understand what this boy, who looked exactly like his brother, meant. Did he just really mean that he was as different as you? You had noticed his fingers and eyebrows were different, but you didn't think it was a big deal. People were different too, what was wrong with that? Or, was there discrimination among the Na'vi? Just like stupid people make fun of and humiliate those who are different from them.

"Bro, cut the nonsense." Neteyam shook his head and gave a deep breath. "Seriously, what the hell are you saying?"

"You could never understand. But she sees me. I know it." Lo'ak said, caressing your arm. He handed you the flowers again and waited for you to move your hand. Ignoring his brother's annoyed stare, he kept looking at you and smiled. "I know you see me."

When you looked at the flowers, you forgot for a while that they wanted to take you with them, or in other words, kidnap you. You didn't want to upset this excited boy who was waiting for you to take the flowers with the joy that he was finally not alone. A momentary warmth came over your heart. But only momentary.

"She is a human, we are Na'vi. Don't make this girl a victim for your own troubles." Neteyam freed you from his brother's hand and stood up. He hid you behind him. Lo'ak didn't take it as a defeat. He immediately got up and hissed at him. Neteyam didn't seem to be affected by this. When Lo'ak tried to hold you, he pushed him and hissed back in response.

"Just because you're the perfect little son, you think you have the right to claim her, don't you?" Lo'ak shouted, making you cling Neteyam's leg.

"You don't know what you're talking about. I'm responsible for this human girl now, just like I'm responsible for you. Listen to reason." He said calmly, as far as possible. He patted your head to soothe you. You were so overwhelmed by this arguing.

"What? You have everything I always long and you receive everything I always deserve. I won't let you to have her, too!" He came closer to take you but Neteyam put his forefinger up and pointed at his face. "Back off."

The tension between the two caused a strange silence. Lo'ak didn't back off and Neteyam didn't put his finger down. Nature also became silent, as if she felt this tension. You wondered if these two fiery brothers were going to fight. Maybe you could had the opportunity to run, but of course you were unlucky.

"What's going on here? Lo'ak?" Great, another nervous blue man. He was much, much taller and built. 'Their father', you thought. He looked directly at you. Your clinged form around Neteyam's leg made him smile. So it was you, the tiny, scared, helpless human girl his son was talking about. He probably wasn't prejudiced against you, since Neteyam said his father understands 'human' better. You saw his stern stare soften when he saw you. It was hard to guess how much he liked you. Because there was also a woman with him. A rather creepy Na'vi with a sharp and questioning gaze. You felt she wasn't pleased at all with your presence, and this made you cling even more tightly to the leg of the blue boy.

"I didn't do anything." Lo'ak muttered, bowing his head. It made him angry that their fight, which hadn't yet begun, had ended this way. "I wanted to give comfort to this girl."

"Sir, I overreacted to protect the girl. It's all my fault."

"Quiet!"

You jumped with the woman's sudden voice and gasped with fear. She came forward and approached you. There were different glints in her eyes. Hatred, fear, suspicion...

When Neteyam tried to separate you from his leg, you didn't want to leave. You felt like this woman's wild gaze was going to kill you right there. Unfortunately, Neteyam whispered that there was nothing to worry about and separated you from himself. You thought she was going to choke you. Maybe that's what she wanted, too. You didn't even realize that Neteyam, Lo'ak and their father were waiting to save you in case of a possible situation. Obviously, nature was also waiting. For some reason, she wanted you to live. Tiny creatures flew on you, flowers and wind almost danced around you, and even sounds that only Na'vi could hear were around. She closed her eyes and listened. She seemed peaceful, relaxed. Eywa said you were belong.

The mother bent down, opening one leg to the side, and fixed her curious eyes on your face. She was very close, and very tall. But she didn't look like she wanted to hurt you anymore. Her gaze turned to amazement, clearly she felt emotions that you couldn't make sense of. "You, come with us."

The woman straightened up without waiting for an answer or objection and walked from the direction she had come.

#yandere avatar #yandere sully family #yandere neteyam #yandere neteyam x reader #yandere lo'ak #yandere lo'ak x reader #yandere neytiri #lo'ak x reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #yandere na'vi x human reader #yandere na'vi #na'vi x human #na'vi x reader #protective neteyam #yandere avatar the way of water #avatar the way of water #neteyam #yandere jake sully #lo'ak #neteyam x human reader #i see you