#we are closing in on probably 4k words by the end of this

[fantasylandloser]

marriage pact

summary: besties that plan to get married

warnings: smut, mdni, dry humping, idrk what else I should put here so message me and lmk, steve's happy trail, slutty steve, big dick steve

pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

A/n: This started off as one thing then it manifested into something else, and this is 4k words of idk and there MIGHT be a part 2

update here is part 2

****

Steve loved your slumber parties that had carried over from your childhood. Initially the two of you would binge watch movies, while his parents were who knows where. Up until you were about twelve he slept in the bed with you until one day your parents decided that he couldn’t do that anymore and gave him his own room for when he stayed over. 

Your family was well off due to your father being in business with his and it was probably no big deal for them, but Steve appreciated it nevertheless. He felt so loved in your home, so he made it his second. He was there at least three nights a week, until the two of you got into highschool and his dad wanted him to get serious about basketball. Then it was late night practices and meeting up with girls. He still came around at least once a week for dinners, but usually he was busy. 

You were surprised when he didn’t go away for college. Even more so when he decided to get his own job and start at the community college in Hawkins instead of living off his parents. Eventually he was back to being at your house all the time, until one day your mom randomly asked him to move in, suggesting that he was there all the time anyway. Which he agreed to with speed. So, now your slumber parties were more frequent, and more fun now that you were adults and your mom took away the rule that Steve couldn’t stay in your room.

Now your slumber parties included the two of you gossiping for hours on end about who was pregnant, talking through movies, and newly you doing Steve’s skincare. At first he tried to pretend that he didn’t like it, until one day you decided you didn’t feel like it and he begged you to do it anyway.

“Close your eyes.” You say from your position on his stomach, your thighs fitting snug on each side of him. One of his hands resting on each one. You didn’t need to be sitting on him of course, but Steve claimed it would be easier on your back if he were laying down (which was not true) but you went along with it because it was Steve.

“So bossy.” He murmurs but closes his eyes nonetheless, his fingers messing with the hem of your shorts. You hum in acknowledgement not really able to focus on the task at hand. 

“Is this new?” Steve asks, referring to the cool goopy substance that you were putting on his face.

“Yeah, I’m testing it on you before I put it on my face.” You say jokingly. But not really, considering that's what you were actually doing.

The snort Steve lets out brings a smile to your face. “Well, I’ve been your test dummy since we were kids so I’m not surprised.” 

“Glad that you finally accepted the dynamic of this friendship. Now stop talking.” He huffs at the command but still listens anyway, a small smile resting on his face,that you could never ask him to wipe away. Your brain short circuits a bit when he pulls his hand back to the center of your thigh, his thumb continuously rubbing over the smooth skin. You couldn’t help but wonder when that got added to the dynamic of your friendship. 

“Now sit with that for ten minutes.” You could see him getting ready to protest so you quickly added, “and be still!” You know he’s gonna bitch about it when you go to take the mask off. He hates sitting still more than anything but he could deal for ten minutes.

When he feels the pressure from your body weight pressing into his stomach start to lighten, his hands finding your waist even with his eyes closed.

“Steve.” You huff, knowing he’s not going to let you move until he can, but it’s not like you actually put up a fight. Not like you actually wanted to be away from his warmth. So you stayed simply sitting on him for ten minutes. Watching him, thinking about how he was still so pretty even with the mask on his face.

When it was time for you to take it off. You almost didn’t want to, but you did , pleased to see that the product left him glowing. 

Steve finally opened his eyes after almost falling asleep when he heard you sigh sweetly. “All done?” He asks hoping that you weren’t even though he’d been laying there for about thirty minutes.  

“Yep.” You say until you remember the little gift you picked up for him at the store. “Wait one more thing.” Steve lets you get off him this time, a little hesitant but you don’t point it out. 

When you come back with what looked like a broken whisk, Steve was a little reluctant. “I think this is where my test dummy days end.” You roll your eyes at his dramatics sliding back to your spot on his stomach.

“You’ll like it.” You tell him. Despite the growing anticipation about whatever the device was, Steve is quick to accept you and it into his space, his hands on your hips to steady you as you sit down. 

“I doubt- fuckkk.” Steve moans raggedly, cutting himself off and surprising you, making you stop your movements with the hair massager. You catch your composure quickly though, continuing to massage his scalp.

“So dramatic.” You try to tease, to lighten the heavy feeling in the pit of your stomach. You knew Steve had a thing for getting his hair pulled. He hooked up with half the girls in your class, so his likes and dislikes tended to get around and made for some pretty interesting lunch room conversations.

You didn’t realize a scalp massage would elicit the same reaction. You also didn’t realize that his reaction would have an effect on you. His whole body seemed to glitch. HIs eyes are barely able to stay open and the grip on your hips tightening.

Once his initial dramatics calmed down, he began letting out soft appreciative sighs. His grip on you fades to soft circles on your thighs.

“I’m gonna marry you.” He tells you, with his eyes closed. You knew he meant it. He told you that he wanted to marry you one day in high school. He’d been drunk but he let you all the way in on his plan to make a life with you, one day when you’re both ready.

He told you how he thought about building a house for you, and having your last name be harrington and how he wanted to have a bunch of kids with you. You thought he’d been joking teasing him about it the next day, but he simply smiled at you with a blush forming on his cheeks telling you that he meant it.

Ever since then, every couple of months he’d say it again. Like he was reminding you, or really asking you to wait for him. Which you did. Neither of you had made much of a move or anything and sometimes one of you would date  someone else, but in the back of your mind you would always remember that you were marrying Steve and that’s just the way it was.

“Mhmm.” You hum, simply acknowledging like usual. To your surprise Steve's eyes open and he zeroes in on your face. 

“I’m serious.” He’d never done this before, made more room for conversation about it. He seemed like he wanted more than gentle acknowledgment.

“I know.” You say, pretending to busy yourself as you set the massager to the side, just to get away from the intense way he’s looking at you. When he sits up on the headboard you know he means business. You never guessed now would be the time you finally actually talked about it.

“Do you really?” He asks. Steve didn’t know if you knew how serious he was.

“Yeah.. we’re getting married.” You tell him, fidgeting with one of his hands in your, absently looking at his nails instead of him. “You’re gonna build me a two story house, two streets away from my moms. In that field we used to play in. And we’re gonna have six babies and I will not let you help me name any of them because I already have a list.” You catch a quick glimpse of his face. “I remember.” You tell him. 

You expect him to let it go now that you’ve rehashed the entire plan he layed out for you years ago. You don’t remember when you got so attached to the idea. Or when you started contributing your own dreams to the plan but it had grown for you and speaking it out loud you realized how badly you needed it to happen.

“You have a list?” Steve’s chest was warm as it dawned on him that you wanted a future with him the same way he did with you.

Your face warmed, embarrassed thinking that he would tease you. “Yes. They’re all non negotiable.”

“Can I see it?” He asks, his voice soft. “Please, honey.” Honey. This is no longer best friend Steve. This is future husband Steve, making his first ever appearance. 

When you shake your head with a shy smile, Steve can’t help but smile back.”Why not?” He asks you in that same soft voice that had you feeling gooey on the inside. 

“Stop using that voice.” You whisper, feeling flushed. Steve couldn’t help but chuckle. He’d never known you to be shy, but here you were being all bossy while hiding your face in his neck. 

“You’re so perfect.” He’s teasing you, trying to see how embarrassed you’ll get. He also means every bit. “Prettiest girl in the world.”

“You’re bein’ weird.” You tell him unsure what to do with yourself with all these changes being made so quickly.  

“It was weird not telling you how beautiful you are everyday.” You don’t expect him to keep listing. “So sweet, too.” He adds. “Always taking care of me and never letting me praise you for it. I can’t wait to take care of you.” The implications of that do not go over your head. “Bet you’ll be such a good little wife.” 

Steve expects you to make some little quip or try to play off how embarrassed you feel. He’s expecting you to descelate how quickly he’s moving. But instead your voice whispers “I hope so.” You’re right in his ear too, so he knows he isn’t mistaken and he knows that this is the last night you’ll ever consider yourself just friends.

*****

Steve should have kissed you last night. He can’t help but think about that over and over, as he realizes he didn’t seal the deal. He should have done something to prove to you how serious he was. 

But it was too late because he didn’t kiss you and the morning had been decidedly awkward when you realized you didn’t know what any of that meant for your immediate friendship. Because initially the plan had been to wait. Was the wait over? Did you want it to be over? You spent the majority of your day trying not to think about it. Steve however wouldn’t shut up about it. Sadly for Robin she had to be on the receiving end of this conversation.

“Robin, this is serious. What if I fucked everything up? What if she thinks I’m leading her on?” Steve runs a hand through his hair, seemingly deep in thought. 

“I doubt that. I mean you’re planning on marrying her- which I take offense to not knowing about this little pact or whatever,” she adds. “But that’s like the total opposite of leading on.” She tries to reassure wanting to really get Steve to shut up about it.

“No you don’t get it-” Steve starts again, only to be interrupted. 

“Ughhhh!! How can I not get it if this is your sixth time going over it? Steve, I get it! You’re overthinking this when it’s really simple.” Robin gestures. “You love her and you want to get married and blah blah blah, but before you guys get married how about you try to, I don’t know actually date?” She says sarcastically. “Unless you were just going to propose after a thousand years of sleepovers and dating other people.” She adds. 

And although it was unnecessarily sassy, Steve realized that Robin might have a point. “So I should ask her out?” He tries to clarify much to Robin’s dismay. Luckily for her the door opening saved her from another round of easily answered questions. And even more lucky for her it was you and not an actual customer.

“Hey what are you-” Steve was cut off by you taking his hand and dragging him to where you knew the break room was after bringing him lunch on multiple occasions. You had tried and failed to not think about this whole situation. 

The one thing that had been bothering you the most is how long it was taking. You realized it was because you let Steve call the shots, and you quickly remembered why you never let Steve call the shots. Steve took too long to make decisions and well you knew what you wanted. So you had always been the leader in your friendship, deciding what movies you’d watch, what games you’d play, the parties you would go to. Everything really. You could do that here too, you realized. 

When you close the door behind you Steve is looking at you expectantly. He’s half thinking that you’re gonna cuss him out, so he doesn’t expect it when you grab him by his shirt to kiss him. You’re all over him for about five seconds. Your scent. Your taste. Your skin. Your hair. Then you’re gone. Patting his shirt back in place, shakily. You’re nervous. Steve realizes. 

“Okay that was all-” Steve’s pulling you back to him before you can run off. Letting his lips capture yours just the way he’d dreamed of. Feeling you relax into him as he cradles your face.

“So sweet.” He murmurs against your lips. He finds it amusing how the words send you back into your shyness from last night. The way you went from determined to timid and unable to even look at him properly. Steve was curious about this side of you. You were never this easily flustered.

“When did you get so shy?” He asks and you know he’s taunting you. He’s still holding you close to him, his fingers messing with the ends of your hair as he tries to find any reason to keep touching you. 

“M’not.” You oppose half-heartedly. He lets out a gentle sound of acknowledgment, obviously ignoring you, and knowing he would press all those buttons later. Privately. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You think he’s still teasing you and you hate that it's working when you feel your face heat up and you’re hiding it in his chest. Steve really means it though, it was the first thought that came to his head when he saw you walking through the door. Your hair free and your face without makeup. A skirt that your mom would deem a few inches too short and a shirt that he’s seen a million times because you love it so much. 

Gathering your courage, you finally look at him. His kiss swollen lips are the first thing that grabs your attention the second is the way he’s looking at you. Like he’s waiting on you to call the next shot. 

“Will Robin be okay, if we go to your car?” The next few moments are a blur because now he’s the one dragging you out of the breakroom, pausing only long enough for Steve to beg Robin to cover for him. Which she agreed to with a poorly concealed smirk on her face.

You were expecting Steve to open the back door and usher you inside. Instead he opens the driver side and pats his lap expectantly, after moving his seat all the way back. When you hesitate he’s grabbing you by your thighs and maneuvering you to where he wants you. “What if someone sees us?” You ask, knowing how fast information like this whipped around town. 

“Nobody parks on this side, honey.” Steve tells you those big puppy dog eyes staring into you. And because he’s Steve, and he’s calling you honey, and you trust him more than anyone you know, you believe him. 

“Okay.” Is all you say before your lips are back on Steve’s. It was a sweet kiss really, and Steve tried to let you control it for a while, until you were trying to back away from him again. With his experienced lips working over yours, you’re so consumed you barely realize the way you’re grinding yourself over his lap. Well not until his hands are on your ass, pushing your skirt up and controlling your once sloppy movement.

“There you go, sweetheart.” He says breathlessly, when he finally comes up for air. His lips find purchase against your neck. He kisses his way up the slope of it, relishing in the sound of your little gasps, until one particular spot sends a shudder down your spine. He sucks that spot. 

Absent-mindedly, your hands find their way off his shoulders and into his hair, barely thinking about it twice before you rake your nails across his scalp softly. The soft hum he lets out gives you indication that you should continue. Your hands stay in his hair for a bit, and you’re too nervous to actually pull it, but it does get you thinking about the other places on his body he has hair. Namely his happy trail. It sat perfectly right in between his abs and you usually had to avoid looking for your own sake. 

You’re yanking his shirt out of his jeans before you give it much more thought. And even though you’re too busy humping Steve to get a good look, feeling it against your bare hands has you whimpering. 

“Stevie-” You’re cut off by your own moan as your clit catches perfectly against Steve’s zipper. It doesn’t get past Steve that you sound so fucked out. Your tone bordering on a whine, clearly frustrated.

“Look at you.” Steve coos. “Doin’ such a good job for me, sweet girl.” Pressing a light kiss to your lips. Steve couldn’t help watching you chase your own pleasure, shivering at his praise.. Your eyes pinched shut, but your hands are all over him like you know every part of his body. 

“Can you open your eyes for me?” He asks with his hands pushing your hair out your face. When you do, he admires how dazed you look. How you probably barely remember your own name. “There she is.” Steve knew he was about two seconds from coming in his pants. He was also aware of the fact that once you were done with him he’d have to go back inside to finish working his shift.

“Stevie” You start again, “M’so close. Feels so good.” You tell him, your movements becoming frantic causing your boobs to sway deliciously. You don’t register your top being pulled down, until you feel Steve licking at your nipple.

A hungry groan rising from the back of his throat. “Perfect fucking tits.” His hands leave your ass, leaving the pace to you. He pinches your right nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to test your reaction. When you lurch into him. Humping him harder than before, he knows he’s a goner. But you are first. Your orgasm hits you so fast, it surprises you with tears springing to your eyes at the intensity. 

Steve’s a close second behind you, leaving the two of you panting and trying to catch your breath. As soon as Steve recovers he’s tending to you, pulling your top back in place, trying to see how you felt. 

He can’t help but admire that after that you went right back to your embarrassed state, obviously self conscious. “You’re perfect.” He tells you again, pressing another light kiss to your lips. When you grin at him, his heart beats fast and he can’t help but be happy at the line the two of you just crossed. 

“You too.” You say, your head is still a bit fuzzy as you check the damage. You’re about to launch into an apology about the obvious wet spot on Steve jeans but he beats you to it. “Stop worrying.” He’d been watching the spot form as time went on and kept willing it to get bigger. Liked that you were making a mess all over him and yourself too. 

“You have to go back to work.” You state, guiltily. 

“I have an extra pair of pants in the backseat, sweetheart. We’re all good.” You’re relieved for a number of reasons, climbing off him into the passenger seat. You don’t know what you were expecting but you realized it wasn’t him yanking his pants off, revealing his now cum stained gray boxers. And you certainly weren’t expecting him to drag the boxers off as well, which revealed his huge fucking dick. The tip is now sloppy and slightly red, and you can tell it isn’t as hard as it was.

“Oh fuck.” You say barely recognizing your own voice. Only to repeat yourself when he uses his sullied boxers to wipe the rest of the cum off, watching it twitch from the stimulation.

“He doesn’t like to be stared at, ya know.” Steve teases you, reaching back for his jeans. 

Your eyes keep flickering back to his face and back to his dick, and you know there’s no way he’s been carrying that around for the entirety of your friendship and you simply had no idea.

“Steve.” You say dumbfounded. No words available to express your shock, as he pulled his pants on to cover himself.

“No more ‘Stevie’?” He asks, mocking you. The smile on his face tells you he’s just messing with you but you can’t help your cheeks going up in flames.

“You’re the worst.” You huff, but you’re still smiling despite your embarrassment. 

“Mhm.” He’s reaching over the console to kiss you again, this time sweet and chaste. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll stretch you open for me, before I fuck you, sweetheart.” You gasp feeling his hand on the band of your underwear.

“Lift up for me.” You do, allowing him to pull the drenched fabric off of you, you hide your face in your hands when he lifts it to his face to sniff. You were quickly coming to the realization that your best friend was dirtier than you ever realized, even with all the gossip that got back to you.

You feel yourself manage to flush even further when he murmurs to himself “sweetest fucking girl” he stuffing them in his pocket in the next second, then reaching back over for you when his phone lights up. 

Robin’s name lighting up the screen. He huffs a little as he reads the text and you know she’s getting snappy. 

“Come on, let's go before Robin kills you.”  There’s no use in asking for your underwear back so you just pull your skirt down as far as it will go before stepping out the car, trying to ignore the slickness of your thighs. After Steve walks you to your car, he presses a kiss to your forehead, stating that you’ll talk later. 

When he walks back into Family Video he looks disheveled, a completely new pair of pants, his shirt no longer tucked and wrinkled, but Robin is relieved to know that she won’t have to answer anymore stupid questions from him.So she leaves him be for the moment, but he definitely owes her big time. 

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #smut #fantasylandloserfic

[too-deviant]

jackie and wilson.

previous | next series masterlist.

summary: you haven’t been given a quest, but you have made it your personal mission to make luke castellan smile.

paring: luke castellan x unclaimed!reader

word count: 4k

content: luke is still a moody teenager, reader is still the fly he cant get rid of. does he really want to, though?

notes: these first two parts feel very introductory but it gets juicy as we dive a little further in the next parts hehe. also who do we think readers godly parent is?

PART II — and lord, she found me just in time 

For a hotshot lawyer, your mom couldn’t lie for the life of her. Every time you brought it up, she’d always quip that she didn’t need to be a good liar to be a good lawyer, since all new evidence is legally required to be disclosed to both parties before they are presented in court. Therefore, there is no lying, only brief twisting of the truth. She was good at that — clearly. 

“You said you didn’t want me to leave you!” 

The wooden floor of Chiron’s office wasn’t the most comfortable of lounging places, but you’d accidentally kicked the radiator after tripping over a horseshoe and Mr. D — who had escorted you there when you’d asked about speaking to your mom — had just sighed and told you to use the mist currently spraying from it as a form of communication. The whole Iris Message thing was still unusual to you, but at the same time, you’d tripped over a horseshoe because the owner of the office was half-horse. Does it get weirder than that? Probably not. 

You leaned back on your haunches, disbelief written all over your face at the scene you…walked in on? Called in on? Iris Messaged in on? Whatever — you were more worried about what you were looking at than the right terminology to describe it. 

“Oh — sweetie!” Your mom was quick to hop down from the kitchen counter, pushing the man who had been standing between her legs away from her so forcefully he fell back into the living room. 

“What was that?” You heard him ask from afar. Your mom chuckled, buttoning up her blouse. 

“The answering machine.” She excused, “I completely forgot I was supposed to call back my daughter. Would you give me a minute?”

The man agreed with a huff and your mom pushed the kitchen door closed with a click before looking at you, narrowing her eyes and crossing her arms, “I didn’t. I sure do now!”

“I’ve been gone for, like, two days!” You exclaimed, “And you’re already inviting your boyfriend over? How old are you?”

“Oh, let it go.” The woman chastised, shaking her head and attempting to push down her amused smile. “I was bored.”

“Bored.” You chuckled, “Of course.”

“But I miss you.” She said then, smiling sweetly and leaning her hip on the island, “How’s camp?”

“It’s great.” You grinned, “The people are great, the food is great. Turns out, I am super with a spear.”

“A spear, huh?” Your mom nodded, “No surprise there, you’ve got a hell of an arm.”

You hummed excitedly, the previous event long forgotten as you filled her in on your first few days at camp, “One of my friends in cabin nine offered to make me a personal one.” Your mom furrowed her brows, “Children of Hephaestus. Blacksmith guy.”

“Right.” She nodded with a click of her tongue. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself.” You smirked cheekily, ignoring the scoff and evil look she sent you in response. 

“Alright. I best go.” She interrupted just as you went to make another comment about her guest, “I will see you at the end of summer. Okay?” 

“Okay. Love you.” 

Truthfully, you were happy to spend the rest of the day talking to your mom — it was so hot that morning that you’d thought about sacrificing your breakfast to Apollo in hopes that he’d ease up a little. You decided against it and just sent your prayers to each of them in general, hoping maybe your dad could fess up to actually being your dad. 

Clarisse had suspected you would soon join her in the Ares Cabin — something about your skills with a spear and the swift right hook you sent Chris when he made one too many comments on your form during your training session with her. You weren’t even sure why he’d been there, but you could probably fathom a guess if you judged by the looks he sent her whenever she wasn’t looking. 

After the exciting discovery that yes, you were good at something, Mr. D had come by to say you could either call your mom now or never. You chose the former option, obviously, and you only regretted it slightly as you heaved yourself up from the ground — already missing the sound of her voice. 

You didn’t let it linger, instead you pushed the creaky door of the Big House open as gently as you could, even though it still swung back against the wall, and nodded at the pair sitting on the porch, currently in a heated card game you couldn’t recognise. They didn’t look at you for long, Chiron muttering something about meeting the Demeter kids by the fields to test your gardening skills before putting down a card that made Mr. D grumble in his seat. 

You were trudging through the grass, huffing when the longer bits tickled your legs and made you go all itchy, when you spotted a body sat by the hearth in the horseshoe of cabins. You lit up, changing course and jogging over to them, “JoJo!”

Luke looked up at you, frowning, “What?”

His curls fell over his eyes and he shook them away, only to squint at the sun that shone into them. You sidestepped, your shadow proving ample shade so he could focus on you, and you stammered a bit when his face fell into focus. He was pretty. 

You let out a breathless chuckle, folding your arms, “From Horton Hears a Who.” He shows no signs of recognition, “You’ve never seen it?” Again, his face did little to answer you, so you shrugged, “Whatever. I’ll get an answer out of you one day, I’m sure. We’ve made steady progress.”

“Have we?” He hummed, picking at the worn sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Of course we have, ya’ nutmegger.” You quipped with a short chuckle, grinning when his eyes snapped back to yours. 

“You still haven’t told me where you’re from.” 

You tutted, “Where’s the fun in that? You gotta find out.”

He huffed, “Whatever.”

Since his outburst about New England the day before, Luke had done a considerable job at avoiding you. Well, you didn’t think he was doing it on purpose — he just wasn’t obligated to spend time with you anymore now that you were cleared to roam camp on your own. You’d seen him at breakfast, perched silently on the end of the bench and staring sadly at his soggy oatmeal, but then Clarisse had whisked you off to the training fields with Chris hot on her tail and you hadn’t seen him since. 

You weren’t completely sure why you were so determined to break his shell. Maybe it was because you knew he never used to be this way — that underneath the deep frowns and annoyed huffs, was a happy boy who would spend days in the sun with his teeth bared in a wide grin — and you yearned to get a peek of who Luke Castellan used to be. To bear your eyes on the side of him he kept away and to find out why he did so, to understand him on a level deeper than anyone around you did, or even deeper than you understood yourself. 

Or maybe because he’s hot. 

Either way, you weren’t letting him slide away that easily. No sir. You straightened your back, “Going to the gardens.” 

No reply, as usual. 

A huff, “Mind walking me? I don’t wanna get lost.”

He looked at you, brown eyes flitting over your expression, before licking his lips and standing, “Fine.”

You grinned then, wide and sunny, “Great.”

You knew where the gardens were — hell, you could see them from where you stood, the two teenage sons of Dionysus chasing each other with sticks while the Demeter kids scowled at them. But you were new, and Luke was ‘the guy’ for all the new campers, so really he wasn’t allowed to say no. 

You were desperate to know more about him; his favourite sport, movie, colour. Anything irrelevant that you could see in public and think: Luke. You just didn’t know where to start — he could shut down at any given moment, so which question was more fitting to ask before he built up his walls and fucked off? 

You settled for something easy — something subtle that wouldn’t hint towards you asking about him. An easy question that any reasonable tour guide would have to answer. 

“So, do you guys host any…mortal activities?” Looking up at him in question, brows raised as he once again made no indication that he’d even heard you speak. 

But he had, “Not usually. Sometimes on weekends we’ll play volleyball on the beach, and I think Lee Fletcher has a soccer ball he kicks around but…” He shrugged, “No. Not really.”

You hummed, “You said we. Do you play volleyball?”

Nice one. 

Luke stiffened a little, sort of appalled that you’d swerved the question on him so easily, but he answered with a grumble, “Not anymore.”

“Why?”

He shrugged, “Grew out of it.”

“Huh.” You said then, facing forward with a nod and continuing your trek through the long grass, occasionally reaching down to scratch your calves, “I don’t think I’ll ever grow out of baseball.”

Come on, Castellan, take the bait. 

“Baseball?”

“Yes!” You exclaimed, a little too excitedly for it to be a simple answer to a simple question. You lowered your volume and gave a more collected nod, “Yeah. Yes. I’ve played since I was old enough…little league.” You let out a weak chuckle, suddenly shy about the subject. 

Luke nodded at you, “First base?”

“Left field.” You corrected with a proud smile, “I got legs.”

“Oh.” He replied, a little caught off guard at that. Although, he was also caught off guard when you said you played baseball. 

You were debating whether or not to press when a gangly blonde boy with dark purple eyes jogged up to you and held out a wicker basket, “You’re the new kid right?” He didn’t wait for an answer before thrusting the basket to your chest, “I’m Pollux. We’re picking strawberries, c’mon, I’ll show you the best way to get ‘em.”

You weren’t sure there was a specific tactic to picking strawberries, but you stepped to follow him anyway. Turning your head to send a thankful smile to Luke for walking you down, you spotted him looking between you and Pollux with furrowed brows — then he noticed your stare and swallowed, nodding, “Uh, see you later.”

“Bye.” You replied, slightly starstruck. He walked off, but he did it slowly as if he was unsure of where to go next. You were positive he had somewhere to be — big shot counsellor and all — but as you stood, one foot in front of the other, face turned back to watch him go, he seemed to stutter in his steps at the top of the hill, deciding where to turn. His beaten converse led him west, and Pollux yelled you out of your stupor so you could help him and his brother pick strawberries. 

As suspected, your strawberry-picking skills were pretty much the same as everyone else’s — really, how can one person be any better at picking strawberries than another? It’s a very simple task. Either way, Castor and Pollux didn’t envision you as their long lost sister, and the Demeter kids apparently couldn’t smell it on you that you were one of them, whatever that meant, so you were back to your search for daddy dearest — at this point, you weren’t even sure if you wanted to find out anymore. All this hassle and for what? It’s not as if he was going to attend the daddy-daughter dance with you, no matter which god he might be. 

“So, do you, like, know Luke or something?” 

Henry Furstatt was a Demeter kid a couple of years younger than you, who had been set the task of walking you to the lake where you would rejoin the Hermes cabin on their canoe lesson. He wasn’t very talkative until you’d put some distance between yourselves and the strawberry fields, where he posed his question. 

You glanced at him with a thoughtful frown, “I mean, he’s been showing me around the past couple days, so…I guess —“

“I meant like,” He swallowed, waving his hands around, “from before. Did you know each other before you came to camp?”

“Oh.” You responded, tucking a loose hair that had fallen in front of your face away, “No. Why’d you think that?”

Henry shrugged, his loose-fitting camp shirt doing wonders to hide the movements, “Dunno. He just hasn’t talked to many people since he got back from his quest…but he’s talking to you.”

“Well.” You were suddenly a little sheepish — were you pushing Luke too much? Was your constant questioning making him uncomfortable? You were only on a mission to find out more about him because he interested you, but did you interest him, or was he ready to boot you as far as you’d fly? “He has to, doesn’t he? He’s still a counsellor, even if he does hate everyone here.” 

“True.” He settled with a nod, fiddling with a daisy he’d picked while you were walking. 

You breathed a content sigh when you finally stepped out of the grass — the summer blooming made it slightly unbearable to walk through, tickling at your legs the whole afternoon. The beating sun didn’t make you feel any nicer, but you just wafted your shirt a little as you walked past the Hermes cabin and towards the dock. 

Camp was always noisy; something you’d grown accustomed to the longer you stayed there. You never really noticed it until you were alone, but the chatter of the kids filled the air the whole day and only really faded out when they all went to sleep. It was slightly unnerving to sit in the silence, and the loud murmurs often comforted you — made you feel less suffocated as the new kid. Less eyes on you, the better. 

You were so used to the noise, in fact, that you almost completely brushed past the argument that was brewing outside the Ares cabin just a few metres away. Fortunately, Henry spotted the commotion, and pulled you to a halt in favour of staring at the ever-growing crowd. 

You followed his eyeline and spotted a burly looking boy with black hair — when he moved his head and the sun hit the right spots, you could see dark red highlights swimming in his locks. You thought that was a little bit much, but you forfeited commenting on it considering the giant machaira that hung on his back. 

The boy in question was sneering at someone in front of him, but the corners of his mouth were perked up in an amused smile that made you think he wasn’t angry yet, but he sure was getting there. You couldn’t see who he was talking to, but as Henry ventured closer, you were forced to follow and eventually his words reached your ears. 

“—big shot golden boy finally got himself a quest and doesn’t fancy sharing the details.” He laughed, deep and low in his throat. 

Henry patted someone on the shoulder, and they stepped aside to let him into the circle. You stayed behind him, watching over his head and finally checking out the opponent. Your eyes stopped on the familiar figure, and his familiar curls that hung over his eyes — eyes that were glaring daggers in the Ares kid’s direction, casting shadows over his cheekbones and making his scar look a little menacing. 

The boy continued after Luke showed no signs of replying, “We get it, Castellan. You failed, but that doesn’t mean you get to gatekeep the whole thing.”

“Dean, man.” You finally noticed Chris, standing off to the side of Luke and glancing at his brother in apprehension at the boy's words. “Back off.” 

Dean just snorted, “Don’t defend him, Rodriguez. We let him mope, now it’s time for him to spill the beans.” He took a step closer to Luke, “What happened on your quest?” 

You had only known Luke for two days. You weren’t sure if he was the type to fly off the handle, swing before reasoning, but you suddenly became aware that neither did anyone else. Sure, these people had known him for years — but you’d heard it from enough people to know that he was a different person these days. After his quest a couple of weeks ago, people had been walking on eggshells around the boy. Maybe a month ago, he would’ve calmly walked away and let Dean simmer in his anger. But now? Nobody could be sure, but judging by the look in his eyes, darkening by the second, you might be able to fathom a guess as to what he’s going to do with his hands now that they were rolled into fists. 

“I mean, is this about glory? Because you won’t exactly be sharing it — ya’ can’t share what you don’t have.”  Dean let out a chortle at his own joke, looking between his friends around him and grinning with them. 

Luke stepped forward. And — you couldn’t blame anyone, really. After that last comment, you were all expecting fists to be swung. It was only reasonable. Maybe the old Luke wouldn’t have done it, but this new Luke was looking increasingly more angry at the world as the days went by, so when he took one measly step forward, the crowd around him let out a collective woah! and put their hands out to stop him from lunging. Including yourself. 

Only he wasn’t about to punch Dean. His hand stayed dormant at his side, the only clear movement was the single step closer he’d taken to match the one the Ares boy had made earlier. He was only really stepping forward so his next words would hit harder — that’s all it was, words. They died on his lips when he realised the implications of his actions, looking between the outstretched arms and tense faces. 

He looked at Dean, “We can discuss quests when you get your own.” 

Then he walked off, past the crowd that didn’t bother stopping him. Looking around, you saw the looks on their faces — shame, from assuming Luke would evoke such violence off the sparring mat. You definitely felt it, but you didn’t stick around long enough to confirm that with anyone else. Instead, you left Chris to berate Dean in place of the head counsellor and followed the boy in question as he huffed up the hill towards the edge of the woods. 

“Hey!” You said, breathless (you were not an uphill climber). “Hey, Luke!”

He hesitated in his steps like he did earlier, but he didn’t turn around. His head twitched a little, like he wanted to look but was holding himself back, but you simply rounded him until you were face to face. The anger had long since dissolved from his expression, replaced with soft confusion. 

“Hi.” You huffed, still recovering from that incline, “Are you okay? That guy’s a dick.”

“I know.” He replied, short as usual. 

You licked your lips, still catching your breath, and nodded. He remained silent, looking around you like he was just waiting for you to leave. You decided to take the hint, muttering lowly, “Okay, sorry for bothering you.” 

But his hand reached out, circling your wrist just as you passed him. You looked at Luke, raising your eyebrows, watching as he stammered on his words, “I, uh, you aren’t bothering me. I just…”

He let go of you and you stepped back to your precious spot. Behind him, the crowd had dissipated, Dean long gone. Chris remained, staring up at the pair of you on top of the hill. You couldn’t pinpoint his expression, but he seemed to hesitate before turning his back. You looked up at Luke. 

“Why did you…come after me?” 

You scoffed a laugh, “What? Anyone would’ve, it’s like…common decency.”

He twisted his expression, looking amused and devastated all at the same time, “But they didn’t.” 

He was right; before you’d set off up the hill, everyone had just been watching him walk off. It seemed a little out of character, but then again, you didn’t know these people as well as you thought. Luke let out a sad chuckle, shaking his head, “Everyone’s sorta given up on me now that I’m…”

“Moody and depressed?” You finished, raising a single brow. You smiled at him, and it lifted into a grin when he smiled back, albeit only slightly. But you’d take it. “I just think that they’re a little unsure.”

“They’re scared, is what they are.” He said firmly, staring at the ground in mirth, “Their precious golden boy won’t clean up all of their messes anymore and they’re scared that they’ll have to start looking after themselves.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” You said, even if you didn’t believe it. How could you? You didn’t know these people, Luke did. “They’re just worried about you.” 

He scoffed, finally moving his head up and meeting your eyes. He went to say something, presumably another quip about the campers, but stopped himself. Backtracked. Instead he said, “Aren’t you angry that you haven’t been claimed yet?”

That was a deep question. You sat on it for a couple of seconds, reeling at the sudden shift of conversation, until you finally let out a low puff of air and shrugged, “I don’t really know how I feel. Why? Should I be?” 

“This camp, it’s —“ He huffed, “It helps you, sure. But it also forces you to…mould yourself into the perfect kid for — for a parent who doesn’t care enough to watch you grow up. Help you live, use their divine powers when a dragon is clawing your fucking face off!” 

He’d stepped closer to you, unknowingly, that final shout making you wince a little at the volume. He stopped then, evening his breaths and stepping back with an apologetic expression. You brushed it off. 

“A dragon clawed your face off?” 

“Yeah.” He chuckled weakly, “Tell anyone and I’ll kill you.” 

You smiled at him, shamefully admiring his face. Now that he wasn’t glaring in anger, and his face was more relaxed, you could see the whites of his eyes. His lashes, unreasonably long, and his lips that were so plush you were close to asking him if he took a trip to see Dr Miami while he was on his quest. 

“Gods.” You murmured under your breath, “You’re so pretty it sorta pisses me off.” 

Luke laughed then — a genuine chortle that shook his chest and made passers by glance in his direction. His grin was uncharacteristically wide and for a second, a brief moment, you saw it. Luke Castellan, the one everyone looks up to. The one they turn to in times of peril, the one they giggle and gossip about under the shade of the fir trees. 

Then you knew your answer to Luke’s question. No — you weren’t angry that you hadn’t been claimed. In fact, you didn’t think you’d care even if you were so long as he was smiling at you like that. 

He calmed down, catching his breath, his face relaxing back into that cool expression he’s always got on. Maybe your eyes were playing tricks on you, but you were sure he looked a little less tense than before. He nodded, waving a hand, “Alright, Sunny. Let’s go canoeing.” 

“Sunny?” You asked, walking alongside him. 

He clicked his tongue, glancing down at you, “If Apollo won’t claim you as a child of the sun, then I will.” 

“Alright.” You smiled softly, looking forward so he wouldn’t see it and run off. You picked at your nails, “So long as I can call you JoJo.” 

“Let’s watch that silly movie it’s from and I’ll decide if you can call me that.”

“Deal.”

🏷️ @katherines-imagines @lovingjasontoddmakemewanttocry @jennapancake @cobaltskiez @loveryoushouldcomeoverr @m00ng4z3r @mischiefmoons (comment to be added/removed!)

#sunny!verse #@lia’s works #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x you

[moon-rivr]

so I have this idea in my head right, how would Miguel would be like after breaking up with reader, but it was his fault. He kept lashing out at them even though they were trying to help, they tried and tried again and again until reader had enough and broke things off, and Miguel is HEARTBROKEN.

But take your time! And have a great day/afternoon/night !!

breaking point

pairing: miguel o’hara x reader

contents: angst

author’s note: you just know the way to my heart w this request anon 😫

word count: 4k

"Los hombres no lloran, Miguel." (men don’t cry)

Conchata had first told these words to him when he fell off his bike around five years old, blood smearing all over his leg. He'd continued to hear those words throughout the course of his life whenever he got hurt, emotionally or physically. As much as the words had engraved into his very being, the only thing that he wanted to do as he stood in front of your door was burst out into tears. The bouquet of flowers he was holding dropped down to the floor, the petals scattering around the concrete. He willed himself to try to move, to get himself to walk away and save whatever bits of pride he had left but he couldn't. All he wanted to do was wait for you to change your mind, tell him that this was all just a cruel joke on your part.

He'd gone over to your house, wearing a button down shirt and his nicest pair of pants while he held the bouquet of roses in his hand, hoping that you'd go out to a dinner with him. He took note of the way that your smile faded away when you opened the door, your arms folded across your chest in a defensive manner. He was met with a "what are you doing here?" instead of the usual kiss and hug he'd grown accustomed to when the two of you started dating. "I thought that maybe you'd like to go out on a date. Eat some of that spaghetti that you like," he responded, determined to making things between the two of you right.

He'd seen the spark from your eyes slightly dim with every day that passed, until you eventually looked at him with pure exhaustion. The love that you used to share for him completely disappeared, each glance directed towards him begging for a change. Despite the fact that the relationship kept draining every single of drop of your energy, he selfishly wanted to keep you close to him. He realized that the flowers and dinner that he'd offered you weren't enough to make up for the months of pain that he'd caused with his actions, but he held hope that it would be a step towards the right direction. Or at least an excuse for him to talk over with you, explain his reasoning for the way he’d been acting.

"What are you trying to prove with this, Miguel?" You asked him, your figure still blocking the door as the two of you conversed. "I’m not trying to prove anything. I just want to share a dinner with you, te lo suplico," he practically pleaded with you, the action foreign even to himself. He was used to being demanding to get his way, never being the one who was at mercy. "I don't want to have a dinner with you. You'll probably end up having a meltdown that I’m using the salad fork to eat my spaghetti," you remarked, standing out of the way to close the door. He pressed his foot against the door before you had the chance to close it, his brows furrowing through the crack on the door.

"Is it the spaghetti? We can get something else if that's what you want, I just miss spending time with you," he spoke up, holding your gaze through the opening. "You wouldn't miss spending time with me if you hadn't been so busy on pushing me away," your reply came out cold, detached. Part of the reason that he'd asked you out for this spontaneous dinner was that he wanted to make up for it somehow by doing a grand gesture, feeling you slip underneath his fingers with every day that passed. "Please? I won't ask anything more of you than just this date. I'll get down on my knees if you want me to, there's nothing that I wouldn't do for you," he told you, a dry chuckle eliciting from your lips.

"You say that now, but you couldn't even act like a decent boyfriend. You couldn't do the bare minimum and now you think that with some shocking spaghetti date, you're gonna fix the damage that you did to this relationship. I don't want anything to do with you, leave me alone," your annoyance was growing by the second with every word that you uttered, closing the door after he stepped aside. You thought that expelling him out of your life would make you burst out into tears, that it would elicit a feeling of pain deep within inside you. But, you'd spent so much time mourning the loss of the relationship before this moment that it almost didn't feel real.

Going to his home to pick up your things a couple days later filled you with a sense of relief, knowing that nothing was tying you to him anymore. You held a box of the things he'd left at your apartment as well, a couple shirts from when he'd stay the night as well as a couple necessities. You didn't feel anything as you looked down at the stuffed animal he'd gotten you at the beginning of the relationships, back when the dates actually used to be something consistent. It was a bizarre that every memory of the relationship that the two of you held could easily be buried into a box, the contents of it each signifying something different.

You hesitated for a moment before knocking on his door, setting the box on your knee to free up one of your hands. You looked up at Miguel as he opened up the door, a stubble starting to show on his chin as well as the dark circles adorning his under eyes. You'd seen him spend many days awake, never exactly looking the way that he looked now. "We're doing this whole thing?" He asked you, his scratchy voice taking you out of your thoughts as you focused back on the task at hand. "Yeah, I just figured it would be better to get it out the way as soon as possible. Do you mind if I come in?" You responded, trying to ignore the smell of alcohol practically seeping through his pores. It almost made you feel a bit of sympathy, the fact that he was hurting so badly because of you. Almost.

He stepped aside to let you in, a couple papers scattered across the floors as well as an unkempt dinner table. "I'm just gonna go to your room and get my stuff," you muttered, stepping around the room to avoid the pieces of paper scattered around. The last thing you needed was for him to cause a problem over stepping some important paper. You'd stepped into his room, immediately overwhelmed with the memories of your time spent in here. Every single night that the two of you shared together, whether it be something bloomed out of intimacy or simply just comforting one another, ran through you like a tidal wave at all once. This room served as a place where you and Miguel had shared some of your most intimate secrets and moments, so it seemed a bit fitting that this was where it all ended. It took you a couple seconds to get your feet unstuck from the spot you were standing in, walking over to his nightstand to get some of your jewelry.

Miguel hated how you looked so casual while you were picking up the stuff, almost like the action didn't matter to you the same way that it did to him. "Are you sure we can't work out through this? I know we've been doing a little rocky recently but I don't think it's enough for us to end our relationship," he spoke up from his spot on the doorframe, his retinas practically burning from the sunlight coming in through the window. You'd pulled the curtain back to have the natural sunlight guide you through the room while you were picking up your stuff, but he hadn't slept in days. It felt like he was staring into direct sunlight so he pulled out his new best friend, a pair of sunglasses he'd bought last time he went for a beer run. Despite the fact that his body metabolized the alcohol at an accelerated rate than most, he still enjoyed the couple of minutes he felt a buzz.

You turned to look back at him, completely brazen by the way that he was choosing to approach the situation. "We haven't been doing rocky just recently, we've been rocky for a couple months now. And if you're not going to attempt to be better, then what's the whole point?" You responded, putting in the final articles of clothing that belonged to you. "I already told you, I've been stressed out lately. I promise once I'm done with this anomaly case, I’ll be more agreeable to be around," he told you, his heart pounding inside of his chest as you stepped closer to him on your way out. "You've been saying that for the last five months. Being stressed out doesn't give you a free access pass just to be an ass to everyone trying to help you," your words hit him like a dagger, the intensity of the impact increasing as you walked out on him.

The relationship that you'd had with Miguel was good at the beginning, like something told out of a fairytale. You met him one of the missions dealing with a Rhino variant, the mission proving to be more challenging than you'd originally anticipated. You'd called him as a last resort, your suit hanging on by the last thread and web shooters running dangerously low. You were extremely lucky that you were even able to swing far away enough from the anomaly, fingers haphazardly moving across your gizmo to call for backup. He'd appeared next to you, taking a glimpse of your appearance before motioning you to go inside the portal. "I'll take care of this, you're too hurt to continue. I'll send you the report later if that's something you want," he'd told you, analyzing the scene in front of him before jumping into action.

Even though you did want to see the end to this fight, you realized that you might be more of a hindrance than help in the current state you were in. You staggered inside of the portal, getting transported back to HQ in what seemed to be only a matter of seconds. You made your way into the infirmary to get a couple wounds checked out, your accelerated healing slowed by the amount of hits you'd taken throughout the course of the fight. The nurse's precise hands were a nice change of pace from the sloppy work that you were used to doing on yourself, the process of getting the stitches done not being as bad. "If you're still in pain after, just come back and we'll give you something to accelerate that healing of yours. It should be gone in about an hour or so," the nurse told you as she was finished up with your injuries, rinsing her hands in the sink at the back of the room.

You thanked her for the job that she'd done before heading out to the lab in order to make some modifications to your suit. You were looking through the formula of your webbing, trying to pinpoint why exactly it was that you ran out of them so fast. The webs had lasted you long enough when your only job was to protect New York in your dimension but now that you were acting as a multi-dimensional protector of sorts, you'd found yourself to be running out of them much faster than your other counterparts. "What are you doing here this late? Shouldn't you be resting?" You heard from behind you, turning around to be faced with miguel's stoic expression as he walked in through the door. "I'm doing better, I’m just trying to figure something out with my webbing. How'd it go with the rhino?"

"It was fine. You'd done a decent job of beating him up so the task wasn't too difficult to get done," he responded, taking the notebook from you as he read through the components of your writing. You wanted to let out a scoff at how he'd taken it away, but you also knew he could offer a unique perception of the composition given his previous job. You weren't used to depending on much people, the only person that'd been that constant for you being Uncle Ben before his imminent death. You couldn't deny that it did feel like a small burden being lifted off your shoulders to be able to depend on someone else for help, even if it was in the form of a mildly tempered man. He took your pen from the desk, starting to write some things down before handing it back to you. "Try changing these and see how much better it gets. I'm not too specialized in the matter since my webs are organic but I think it'll do you some good."

Miguel always found himself annoyed when someone burst into his office without announcing their arrival beforehand, but he couldn't seem to get annoyed with you when you did. "Hey, I hope I'm not bothering. I wanted to thank you for the insight you gave me, it really did help with the webbing issue," you spoke up, having to crane your neck to look up at him as he stood on the platform. "No problem. Is there something else that you needed?" he responded, the platform slowly starting its descent. "Well, I was wondering if you could help me design a new suit since mine got pretty torn up during that battle. You seem to be aware of what type of materials to use and whatnot, so I figured you were probably best to ask," you told him, his figure looming in front of yours as he got off the platform. "Sure, follow me."

It was easy to fall in love with him despite the nature that he showed to others, since he was always so relaxed with you. You could see the walls that he'd carefully buried his feelings with slowly start to crumble down every single time that the two of you were together. Dates between the two of you had become routine, some of the members from HQ commending you for getting Miguel out of his office for more than a couple minutes at a time. He caressed your skin with such care, each one of his touches exuding the affection that he was harboring towards you. The time that he told you that he loved you, you couldn't help but feel like you were on top of the world for a change. You knew how hard it was for him to love people, to even get close to them, so to have the honor of having his heart was one you valued greatly.

You weren't sure when your relationship with Miguel started to feel like it was heading in a downward spiral, the whole thing resembling the feeling of being on a rollercoaster. "Don't worry, he just doesn't know how to deal with things," Peter had tried to assure you after he witnessed one of the more intense fights that the two of you had. You'd tried to take Peter's advice and not let the arguments get too much to your head, but it seemed like you were walking on land mines every time you interacted with him. After every storm, there seemed to be calm aura around the two of you for a couple days. almost as a way to recharge and regroup before the next fight started and the cycle repeated itself once more. You forgave him every time that he did something you would disagree with, a small part of you dying inside with every "it's okay" that you gave him.

He'd grown more fond of you, falling deeper and deeper in love with you every time that you forgave him for pushing your boundaries. But on the contrary, you started to fall out of love with him with every empty promise at being better that he uttered. His apologies had become repetitive, to the point where he was simply just recycling them in hopes that you wouldn't be pissed off at him for more than a day or two. The words "I’m sorry" had become a routine part of his vocabulary, almost seeming like every conversation that he held with you included them. The words soon enough lost all the original meaning to them, especially when he said them in that tone that implied he would rather be doing anything else than apologizing.

"Can't you see i'm trying to focus on this damn anomaly? It's already hard enough with you interrupting," he scowled as you came into his office with a box of pizza. You'd meant for it to be a kind gesture, for him to be able to eat something throughout the day since you knew that he would spend most of time buried away in the shadows tinkering with his screens. "I just wanted to get you something to eat so you wouldn't have to worry about it," you hated how weak your voice sounded as you spoke, your voice doing nothing to conceal the hurt you felt. "I'll change, I'm sorry. I'll do better," he assured you, dipping his head down to kiss your forehead once he saw your bottom lip tremble. "I'm just so stressed, y'know how it is. I'll manage it better for you, I promise. I'll really do it this time," he told you before you walked away from his office, imaginary claws digging into your chest. And he had kept his promise, mostly changing for the worst.

"I don't get why you're so pissed off that I missed our date, it's just one out of many. We'll just go on another one," he scoffed, not even bothering to look at you as his fingers typed away on the hovering monitor. "It was our two year anniversary date, Miguel. And I'm pissed off because you've been missing out every date that we have scheduled for the past five months," you managed to get out, almost like you didn't believe that he would forget. "I said I would make it up to you, stop making a big deal out of this," he reiterated, talking to you like you were the one in the wrong for having the simple desire of wanting to hang out with him. "There was a time when you actually knew the balance between being with me and your work. I hope you find that soon for both of our sakes," you told him, reminiscing of many months ago before stepping out of his office.

You were so tired of forcing yourself to look at the good that had been in the relationship, tired of living off of solely the good memories. The decision of breaking up hadn't been something that crossed your mind until you saw a couple strolling down the street while you were on your way to get something to eat. You'd never felt so alone looking at them despite the fact that you had a partner, but the way that they laughed and basked in each other's presence seemed something almost foreign to you at this point in time. You were grasping at straws, hoping that one day Miguel would wake up and love you the way that he used to. But that hope inside you slowly began to extinguish, until there was nothing left but just a feeling of adaptation. You wanted to convince yourself that you could adapt to this new way of living, of being able to claim that he was your boyfriend out of the love you felt for him without actually spending time with him, but the simple truth was that you couldn't handle it anymore.

To him, the breakup had been sudden. like you woke up one day and decided that being with him wasn't worth it anymore. It was hard for Miguel to even fathom the idea of having to go through the motions of life without you, especially when he saw himself having a future with you. He'd thought about what it would've been like coming home to you, maybe with a couple kids and a dog running around. But that's all that it was now, just a thought he wouldn't be able to fulfill. He felt the void of your presence everytime he walked inside of his apartment, it was like you had never been in his space in the first place. He wanted to grow accustomed to that feeling, but every single of atom of his being couldn't help but yearn for you.

Every single task that he had to do in his life felt meaningless now that he couldn't return home to you, not that he would do it on most days regardless. But he liked to have the knowledge that you would be there, welcoming him with a hug and a smile while your hands massaged his back. He knew that it was nobody's fault but his own, for pushing you too far past your limits. He wanted to blame it on his upbringing, for not having a good coping mechanism with his stress, but he knew that the fault all lied on his shoulders. He wasn't aware of how good he'd had it until he lost you, realizing just how lucky he was to have someone so kind and understanding be by his side. His hands reached out for you in the couple hours of sleep that he managed to get, silent tears rolling down his cheeks after finding that you weren't there.

"Your serotonin levels are extremely low, are you sure you don't want to take a break from all this?" LYLA spoke up, doing the routine health scan Miguel had programmed her to. "Don't start. Just give me the reports," he grumbled, looking up once LYLA was finished talking. "You have 10 missed messages, do you want me to read them out to you?" LYLA asked him as he sat at his desk, his hands on his knees as he looked down at the floor. As LYLA read out the messages that Gabriel along with a couple of the other spider recruits had sent him, he couldn't help but wish that maybe your name would pop up in between the mix. "Discard them all, thank you," he ordered LYLA, the assistant doing as she's told before disappearing off into thin air.

"Miguel! My man, How are you doing?" Peter's voice boomed throughout the office, his voice echoing through the confined space. Miguel gave a small grunt in response, not willing himself to entertain him at the moment. "Well, I have to say that me and MJ are doing so great right now, I'm honestly so lucky to have her in my life," Peter gushed about his wife, completely oblivious to the internal turmoil raging inside of Miguel. "Are you here just to talk about how wonderful your wife is or does this impromptu appearance have a point?" He asked the man, arms folded underneath his chin. "Well, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come out of your office for once. You've been trapped in here for a long time," Peter told him, his bunny slippers squeaking on the floor as he walked closer to Miguel. Miguel wanted to deny the accusations and lie, say that he's fine and that he'd been going outside of his office, but he decided to stay quiet.

As soon as he stepped out of the office with Peter B, he couldn't help but instantly regret his decision. because there you stood, laughing along with something a recruit was telling you. At that moment, he so captivated by the way that your laugh sounded, like the tune of a thousand angels singing down on him. The way that your smile just seemed to radiate across the room even to him, making him feel as though he were a planet and you the sun, simply entranced in your orbit. But with those feelings also stemmed the feelings of regret and jealousy. He wanted to be the one that made you laugh like that, wanted you to even spare a single glance at him. It made him want to hold you in his embrace one more time, to appreciate everything that he'd lost the moment you broke up with him. You were so close to him, yet so unattainable.

#moon-rivr #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara angst #angst #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara across the spider verse #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara imagine #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel imagine #atsv miguel #miguel x y/n #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #spiderman atsv #spiderman #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel x reader #miguel fic #miguel 2099 #miguel fanfic #miguel ohara #miguel atsv

[msbigredmachine]

Say Cheese - A Roman Reigns One-Shot

A steamy after-work rendezvous with the Tribal Chief and his princess is captured in 4K.

PAIRING: Tribal Chief!Roman Reigns x OC

Warning: SMUT

Word count: 4.9k 

Song Muse: "Sativa" by Jhene Aiko and Rae Sremmurd

————————

The audible smacking of lips and sliding of tongues was the seductive tune serenading the lovers, seemingly drowning out the actual song blaring from the speakers of the hotel suite. It started out with soft, gentle pecks, but ever so greedy, he’d taken it up a notch, kissing her more hungrily at the same time he lifted her up onto the kitchenette’s counter. That lethal tongue of his consumed the insides of her mouth, earning his deep chuckle at her needy moan as her legs wrapped around his waist to keep him close. 

“We are so bad, we should be at the party,” she giggled against his succulent lips, sneaking her hands behind the nape of his neck to tug his ponytail loose. “People are gonna notice we’re not there. ‘Specially you, Mr. Tribal Chief.”

He pulled away long enough to huff, “Well, that's on you. You’re the one who kept rubbin’ on my dick the entire ride back here, making me so hard everyone woulda seen it.” Picking up the half-drunk bottle of Cristal next to her, he took a large gulp before handing it to her. “Gon’ be boring as shit anyway. Fuck the party,” he added.

“Nah, I’d rather fuck you,” she stated, making her intentions clear, loving the way his eyes blazed at her bold statement. 

“That’s my girl.” He showed his appreciation by tongue-kissing her slowly, coaxing her to follow his lead and match his energy. She wasn’t inexperienced at all, but each time they kissed, she felt like a virgin being taught for the very first time. Emboldened by the alcohol in her system and the passionate moment, her hips rocked back and forth, grinding against his prominent erection pressing between her parted thighs that his big hands caressed so lavishly, all while their mouths sought the depths of each other’s sensual taste. 

It took Cleo Parker-Jones just three months after her main roster call-up to get Roman Reigns in her bed. It probably would have been quicker if it wasn’t for his part-time schedule and her focusing on proving herself on the blue brand. Whenever he did show up to work, they did not get too many moments alone. But each time they did, they made the absolute most of it. Flirty banter. Suggestive winks. Subtle caresses as they grew closer. Soon, she was sneaking into his locker room or his bus for intense make-out sessions that left them both breathless and hungry for more. The sparks flew between them and it was only a matter of when and not if they would seal the deal.

Of course they did, and it was glorious. The man was blessed by the dick fairy and he backed it up with incredible, toe-curling bedroom skills that challenged even her own renowned stamina and athleticism. The not-so-amicable end of her last relationship had left Cleo lonely and horny, and she knew right after having her first taste of the Tribal Chief that she wouldn’t be able to leave him alone. Luckily, the feeling was mutual, as he kept coming back for more…and more…and more…

Fast forward a rollercoaster of a year and she was now Miss Money in the Bank, Smackdown’s fastest rising star at twenty-six years old…and Roman Reigns’ sugar baby. Of course, the perks were perking…Traveling in Business Class or in his own jet, designer outfits and accessories, late-night lobster dinners in restaurants shut down just for them, phone bill and house rent paid up, luxury hotel suites like the one they were currently in, enjoying a little after-party of their own after ghosting the one downstairs. But there was nowhere else she would rather be, especially since he would be gone in the morning while Cleo wrestled around the country, missing him something fierce. She never thought she would be in this kind of relationship, but this fun, adorable, generous, criminally sexy older guy had her wondering why she’d never considered it. He took care of her, pampered her, and satisfied her every need. He made her feel like a princess and that was all she’d ever wanted in a man.

She pushed him firmly to catch her breath, lightheaded from his delicious kisses, and licked her plump and swollen lips while staring up at him. Her fingers found the buttons on his dress shirt, slowly flicking each one open to expose his smooth, bronzed, tattooed chest inch by inch, noting the way he shivered as her short acrylic nails gently scraped his skin. She couldn’t help but grin at the sight of his open shirt and his hair loose and wavy; he strongly resembled those romance novel cover models from back in the day.

“Let me down so I can suck on my favorite lollipop,” she requested.

Without hesitation, Roman picked her up off the counter and brought her down to her feet before him. Lowering down to a squat, she backed him up against the counter and relieved him of his slacks with nimble hands. Her darkened eyes leered at his erection bulging impatiently through his Nike briefs, the front stained with his arousal for her. Her fingers peeled the elastic waistband down his muscled thighs, his long, hefty dick almost slapping her in the face when she set it free.

Roman’s breathing quickened as Cleo curled her fist around the throbbing length, squeezing out the bead of precum that clung to the tip. Their hazy gazes locked as her tongue darted out to catch it, licking the underside of his cock before guiding him between her lips, coaxing a deep sigh out of the Samoan.

“Unnnh, shit, Cleo,” Leaning back against the counter for balance, he nearly knocked over his iPhone in the process. Jerkily groping for the device, he picked it up, glanced between his Home Screen and Cleo’s bobbing head, and a naughty idea came to him. Tapping his thumb on the screen to find the camera, he couldn’t hold back his moan when her image materialized through the lens, making his dick disappear in her hot mouth like a magician.

"Smile for the camera, baby, I wanna remember this..." he said.

Her big brown eyes fluttered in his direction, and he tapped the button, the snap sound capturing the image of her pouty lips sealed tight around his dick forever. He firmly gripped the back of her head, struggling to take the picture three more times as she sucked him deeper and harder.

"You can just record it," she pulled him out to say.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “For real?” 

“Yeah. Have something to remember me by when you’re away from me.”

This was new. Sure, they’d exchanged dozens of nude selfies and some raunchy solo videos, but they were yet to put any of their sexscapades on film. His train of thought evaporated when a thick string of spit fell from her lips onto his milky brown length. His vision blurred as she then swallowed him up in one go, her sucking more audible from the gathering saliva, her hands twisting determinedly around his erection. As best as he could, he hurried to select the video setting on his phone and hit Record, his fingers digging into her scalp as the vibrations from her moans almost had his knees buckling. 

“Aw man, that mouth is fuckin' goated, princess,” he encouraged, raising his phone higher to get a better shot of her working him. He loved it when she got into it like this, so nasty and with so much passion and concentration. “This what you been waitin’ for all night, huh? This big dick deep down your throat?” he taunted.

Cleo blinked up at him with her long lashes, her naughty smile stretched by his girth. He looked so hot, bare-chested, staring down at her with his hair falling over his face. She could tell he was close already, the veins in his dick seemed to spring to life and thicken in her hand. With every suck, she made sure to moan around his big beautiful cock and let her tongue slurp all over it for extra stimulation. Her goal was to drain him, to wring him dry and make him lose his sanity. 

But not just yet.

Abruptly, she pulled away, sliding him out of her mouth with an audible pop as she said, “Okay, my feet hurt, I ain’t Megan Thee Stallion.” She raised her arms, gesturing for him to pull her back up.

Roman fought back a whine as his cock twitched pitifully from the sudden absence of her oral attention. Her annoyingly sexy smirk told him she was screwing with him again like she liked to, but he kept it to himself, inwardly promising to get his lick back. With shaking hands, he stopped filming and helped her stand up, watching her wobble a little in her high heels. 

Her lilac-colored nails wrapped around the neck of the Cristal bottle as she picked it up for a sip, and poked out her tongue to let the drink drip from it. It was bait, and Roman seized it with a needy growl, lapping up the alcohol with his tongue and making a messy transfer from her mouth onto his. God, he had the tastiest kisses, even coupled with the bittersweet flavor of champagne. When he pawed at the obscenely low neckline of her dress and his mouth latched on to her hardened, bare nipple, her heart thrummed excitedly in her chest as that familiar feeling of desire bloomed within her. 

“This dress is sexy as fuck, princess, but I want it off,” he demanded.

“You can take it off me, Daddy. Let’s go to the bathroom first. And bring your phone with you.” She took him by the hand and led him like a little boy across the large suite. Roman’s mouth watered as he watched her curvy hips sway from side to side as she walked. The things this girl did to him. It’s been a long time since he felt this way about any woman, since he’d been this happy and excited to be with someone. Initially, he felt like a dirty old man taking advantage of the beautiful, bright-eyed young starlet. But that reasoning was short-lived as Cleopatra proved from the jump to be more mature, more well-rounded and more in control than she liked to let on. He liked that a lot about his princess.

The backlit mirror in the fancy bathroom stretched over two sinks, the perfect backdrop for the sinfulness that was about to transpire. With a sultry smile, Cleo bent over one sink and pulled her dress up to her waist, exposing her black g-string nestled between her bountiful round globes. Using two fingers, she parted her folds and circled them gently over her labia, never taking her eyes off her big bad lover man, his phone recording her every move even though his eyes were glued to her soaking wet folds. With her slippery fingers, she rubbed her pussy before bringing them to her mouth to suck them like a pacifier, her moan low and sultry from her own taste.

"Mmm. Come closer, Daddy, I want you," she purred.

As he did, she took his phone and propped it up against the mirror in front of her, leaving the video running. His hulking form towered over her, his body molded into hers, his aching erection straining against her backside. His tongue darted out between his lips as his hands roamed her body. His expansive paws caressed her curves and the fleshy mounds of her ass, his thumb brushing over the phoenix tattoo just above her right buttock. Cleo loved that this Adonis of a man never seemed able to keep his hands off of her. Having done some work on her body, naturally and surgically, she hoped the change would take her places. Never did she think that said place would be in the arms of the face of the WWE. Her career progression, along with his constant attention, was validation that her investment was paying off.

"Look at the camera while I eat this pussy, baby," he instructed. He had the bottle of Cristal in his other hand, and he turned it over and poured the liquid all over her ass, drenching her already damp panties. She watched as he disappeared behind her, and a hiss slipped from her lips as she felt his mouth on her ass, kissing and biting softly. The feel of his long fingers squeezing her cheeks as he licked the champagne off her skin was incredible. He rolled her panties down to meet her stilettos and ran his hands up and down her smooth, toned legs, widening them to expose her wet, glistening pussy from behind. Her stomach fluttered and her loins clenched as he left a trail of big, wet kisses on her inner thighs.

"Your pussy is so pretty, baby girl. Just like you."

He started suckling her folds, using that godly tongue of his to split them apart and lap at her opening. The faster and deeper he moved his tongue, the louder Cleo moaned, all while doing her best to focus on the camera like he wanted. Fuck, his lips were so soft, his tongue warm and fat and heavenly as they worked together to devour her aching cunt.

The Tribal Chief reached around her front, slipping one hand between her thighs. Ignoring the throbbing of his cock reacting to her throaty moans, he pushed his middle fingers inside of her and pumped, reveling in the panting, whimpering mess he'd turned her into. She reached behind her to grab the back of his head, only for him to shove her hand away and slap her ass in warning. Cleo groaned loudly as his finger plunged deeper, nudging that sweet little spot that made her eyes roll back as the pressure built and built. She braced her hands on the sink and rode his face and fingers, grinding her hips until she couldn't anymore. She howled her pleasure as the orgasm quickly overtook her and she came in his mouth and all over his thick beard. The sensation so overwhelming that her legs nearly gave out where she stood.

"I need you to come like that on my dick," Roman murmured as he rose to his feet. Ridding himself of the rest of his clothes, he wrapped a steadying arm around her before guiding her face to his. She moaned as she tasted herself on his tongue, swiveling nastily with hers, devouring each other as though only the other could quench their thirst.

"I can't get enough of you, Cleopatra. Every time I think I'm satisfied, the hunger comes back stronger." He burrowed his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled deeply, letting her flowery scent fill his lungs. "Everything about you makes me so hard. I need you, baby girl."

His voice and his words caressed her heated skin with the same devastating effect as his hands on her. Suddenly, her dress was too tight, too constricting, prompting her to pull it over her head with his help and throw it somewhere far away. She gasped as he immediately reached for her breasts, rolling their softness in his callused palms. Her gaze flickered from the mirror to the camera and back, catching his eye as he winked slyly at her.

She yelped a little as he smacked her hard on her behind, once on each cheek. His hand print seemingly seared into her ass, but she didn't dare say a word. As she waited for his next move, he stepped back, though she could still feel the mass of his thighs warming her backside. Suddenly, she heard the frantic, sticky sound of his hand jerking his dick. She almost melted at his expression through the mirror, his eyes clouded over, his beard glistening with her cum, his lips parted as he pleasured himself right in front of her, holding out on her. As "Sativa" played in the background, Cleo began to throb and pulsate, the anticipation getting her wetter by the second. The fact that he was making her wait sent her hormones into overdrive. Her honey dripped, rolling down her thighs.

When he was done, Roman grabbed the phone and held it right above her backside. His free hand rubbed all over her round ass before he grabbed his dick and spanked it on her ass, feeling harder and bigger than before on her skin. Reaching behind her, Cleo pulled her ass cheeks apart to help him sink inside her with one long thrust. He stroked inside her at a moderate pace, relishing in her sweet cream already streaking his dick. The mirror gave them the perfect view and eye contact. They could see each other's faces when their expressions changed, feel the shudder of their bodies when they moved and when they moaned with pleasure. Damn, what a beautiful sight, all captured on camera for their viewing pleasure.

"Ya know what? Throw that ass back for Daddy," Roman spoke roughly, his large hand clutching her waist and slowly rocking her back and forth on his cock, "This fat, sexy chocolate ass...fuck my dick with it..."

Planting her hands on the marble surface to steady herself, Cleo bit down on her lip as pushed back against him, pausing every couple of seconds to grind on him because he liked it when she did that. More heat bloomed within her loins at the satisfied groans falling from his lips, as he brought his hand down on her ass yet again. Moaning softly, she bounced faster against him, her pussy gripping him tight with each slide inside her. He felt so good, made her feel so full and so ready to explode again as her walls massaged his girth.

"Like that, baby? You want it like that, my Tribal Chief?" she spoke breathlessly, "That dick feels so good Daddy...Oooh sh-"

Roman had grabbed her left leg and lifted it onto the sink, opening her pussy up to him. He held her down and pounded her hard from behind with drunken, reckless abandon. It did something to his brain when Cleo idolized him with all these pet names; Daddy, baby, Tribal Chief; it boosted his ego and made his dick harder knowing that he was indeed in God mode. As her reward, he delivered heavy, grinding strokes right up against her g-spot that intensified her cries and had her gripping the marble surface for dear life.

"Talk to me, baby, tell me where I'm at?" he said, angling the camera to view her flushed face.

"In my stomach." She could barely speak or think straight or even stay upright, weakened from the mindblowing pleasure surging through her. She lay slumped on the sink, her eyes closed, her kiss-swollen lips parted as she enjoyed him inside her. He knew he was hitting her spot whenever her long eyelashes fluttered and her heavy breaths actually stopped for a couple of seconds, her mouth open in a silent cry. His hand then wound around her throat, yanking her body up from the sink and against him with her back to his chest. Twisting her chin towards him, he covered her mouth with a hot, sloppy kiss, coaxing her moans out of her throat and into his. Blindly putting the phone back down, his hips accelerated, drilling her pussy with added force, their slapping wet skin reverberating around the bathroom. His fingers slipped south to strum her clit, making her body tremble, on the verge of complete collapse as each wave of ecstasy grew more incredible than the last.

"D-Daddy...Roman, fuuuuck!" she stuttered, clawing helplessly at his arm around her neck, trapped between the hard surface and his hard strong grip, unable to do anything but endure the dizzying tandem offence of his cock and his hand inside her.

"I can feel you, baby, you 'bout to come, ain't cha?" he asked, a husky groan slipping from his lips as her pussy tightened around him. "Unnnh god, you feel so good. Come for me babe, I want your cum all over my dick."

Cleo's moans dissolved into broken whines as he kept pummeling into her, nudging her closer to the edge until there was no room left and she toppled over headfirst. Her body jerked once, freezing and then shaking as liquid gushed out of her and all over his and her thighs. The ecstasy was blinding, numbing with its sheer intensity. "Shiiiit!" she cried out.

"That's what I'm talkin' 'bout," Roman chuckled, letting her leg down and smacking her ass before spinning her around and lifting her to sit on the sink. His burly arms hooked beneath her knees, dragging her to the edge with his pelvis wedged against her clit. "Legs up, baby girl. Take the camera and watch Daddy fuck his pussy," he ordered.

Cleo licked her lips as she grabbed his phone, staring into the camera with unfocused eyes for a moment before directing it downwards to their naked, sweat-slick bodies. The Tribal Chief shuddered at the contrast of her pretty pink pussy against her russet skin. So fucking sexy. He rubbed his dick left and right like a windshield wiper over the fat, puffy pussy lips before patting her clit with it. "I'ma go nice and slow this time so you can feel all of me," he told her, groaning out loud as he slid in.

Chills ran down her spine as his magic dick stroked her right there, that lower sensitive part of her pussy that made potential orgasms creep in faster than usual. Roman knew exactly where that spot was, and he focused the pressure of his dick there, never stopping his onslaught.

"Shit...fuck that pussy, Daddy, fuck me, oooh yeahhh..." Cleo moaned, unable to tear her eyes away from the sight of his dick beating her pussy up, testing the stretch of her walls. It felt so good that her grasp on his phone began to falter. Roman noticed, and he took it from her, extending his arm so that the camera caught the entirety of both their bodies, showing off his messy dick pumping in and out of her creamy pussy.

"Look at us, princess, look how good you take Daddy's big dick. Fuckin' beautiful," he said. She followed his gaze into the camera, honing in on his trademark smoldering lip curl that she always found so hot. Her pussy agreed, leaking just a little bit more for his benefit and hers.

With her arms braced behind her, her legs spread wide and looking right into the camera lens, Cleo watched her lover go to town on her, his dick finding the bottom of her pussy. His strong, toned hips bounced off hers, his increasingly ravenous strokes causing her walls to pulse around his girth. Searching desperately for something else to grab onto, she clutched the back of his neck and pulled his mouth down hard on hers. A clattering noise sounded, and she felt both his hands curl around her throat as he nipped at her lips, his tongue tangling with hers. When he pulled back, the light in his eyes was gone, completely blown with lust and need, and Cleo couldn't help but smile with pride. A warm thrill always rushed through her to see him like this; this huge, powerful, unflappable man losing all composure and control and losing himself in her and in the pleasure she was giving him. It was the biggest ego boost, probably a bigger achievement than anything she'd done in the ring, to know that no one else did this to him or made him feel like this.

Their foreheads pressed together, breathing each other's air while he rocked into her, his dick sliding in deeper with each roll of his hips. His phone lay unattended next to them, having dropped it in the heat of passion. Even as her climax loomed, Cleo still had the wherewithal to prop the phone back up against the wall facing them, not wanting to miss the money shot of their coupling.

"I'm 'bout to come, baby," Roman rasped, his movements intensifying.

"Me too, come in my pussy Daddy, come in me," she whimpered,  her belly warming with the molten heat of an impending explosion.

Her breathless mewls propelled the snapping of his hips, his growls more uninhibited and desperate as he held her legs tighter and fucked her like an animal. Her head banged back against the mirror and her body arched into his with a keening cry, her nails digging into his biceps as her arousal crescendoed and splintered her into a hundred pieces. It felt like the music was playing directly in her brain from how hard she was coming.

"Yeah, come all over me, fuck, Cleo, I love this pussy so much. Daddy 'bout to come so hard for you, ah, mmmhhh..."

The jolt of his big frame and the thick grunt that followed gave him away. His thrusts stopped, and he held himself still inside of her, his head thrown back while he came inside the warm tunnel of her pussy, making the sexiest noises as he lost himself to unbridled pleasure. Cleo moaned with him as her body jerked from the force of his pulsing cock filling her up with his seed. She grinned lazily into the lens knowing that the entire scene was captured perfectly. As he crumpled in her arms, she left a string of kisses along his cheek and his neck, holding him close in a sudden desperate need to crawl into his skin as they descended from the incredible high together.

After the world had quieted and the room had stopped spinning, he straightened his back, kissing her before he pulled his dick out, watching his cum ooze from her pussy. She reached down to spread her pussy lips open while he picked up his phone again to get a closeup of the creampie that he created.

"Feed me our cum, Daddy," Cleo begged with her soft spoken voice. She watched as he swiped two fingers inside her and held up their joined fluids to her lips. Her mouth eagerly weaved around the digits, sucking and licking up their cum juices thoroughly, making him moan at the sexy visual.

"I've trained you well, my baby girl. You like this freaky shit just as much as I do," he teased, kissing her again as his arms wrapped around her waist. This was probably the part Cleo liked the best; the quiet after the storm, the cuddles and sweet butterfly kisses; basking in the afterglow as her love for him continued to blossom and deepen.

"You okay?" he asked, massaging her back in soothing circles as he looked at her.

"Mmm-hmm," she sighed blissfully in response.

"Mmm, that shit was fire, baby. Damn. I know that video is gonna be a masterpiece when we look back at it."

Cleo giggled in agreement, cradling his face in her hands and smoothing her thumbs over his beard, watching him visibly relax from her delicate touch. "Send it to me. I plan on having a lot of fun with it when you're not around."

"Dirty girl," he replied playfully with another sweet kiss, leaning down to help her take off her shoes. "Speaking of, what's TV like for you on Friday? It's the run-in angle from Damage Ctrl, right?"

"Yep. I'm off all through next week to sell the beatdown. Why?"

"Perfect. I'm at my place in Palm Springs for a week. Come meet me there after the show. I'll send you your flight details. Gabriel will take you to the airport and I'll come get you when you touch down. Bring a couple of bikinis and dinner dresses. You need some money for those, babe?"

Shaking her head no, she smiled the sweetest smile and hugged him. He spoiled her so much. She still had to pinch herself sometimes that this was her life. "You take such good care of me, Daddy. I lo-...I appreciate you."

If he caught the near slip-up, he didn't show it. "I appreciate you too. You should know by now that I love spending my money on you and taking care of you. So your fine ass better get used to it if you ain't."

Get used to it. She couldn't help but let her imagination run amuck at those words. Was it possible that he saw something more concrete between them? After all, they pretty much acted like boyfriend and girlfriend and most of the roster knew they were a thing. Deep down she longed for confirmation, but she also didn't want to ruin their great dynamic by overcomplicating it with an "official" label.

"Question. That video is in safe hands, right?" she changed the subject, making Roman snicker at the tinge of trepidation in her voice.

"Relax. The security on my phone is double-cheeked up," he insisted.

"You sure? Cuz I'mma smash your phone to pieces if I have to," she warned. "My folks will kill me if that video ever leaked."

Her cute little threat had him chuckling. She was so adorable. "Easy, tiger. It's safe, for mine and your eyes only. I'd never do anything to embarrass my baby girl." He stroked her chin gently, his eyes soft and filled with a warm, tingling emotion that brewed inside him only for this beautiful, exciting woman and seemed to grow stronger every day. He knew what it was, and he secretly prayed that it was not one-sided.

Their lips met once more in a gentle, sensual kiss that neither of them wanted to end. The disappointment sinking inside Cleo when he pulled away quickly vanished as he picked her up and carried her towards the shower. Again, she let him take her wherever the hell he wanted to. As long as she got to be with her Daddy, it didn't matter where they went. Sooner or later, with the right timing and persuasion, she would finally gather the courage to tell him she was in love with him.

THE END

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Thank you all so much for reading!

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[xxblairexxss]

Supersede p.3

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

Word count : 4k

I went through this a couple of times, even deleted half of the paragraph and rewrite it back but I still feel like something’s missing. Probably because I kept on jumping from one timeline to the other one because I have to finish this one in one part. 😔

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flash

The roaring cheer from the crowd filled up the pit lane soon as Charles hopped off his car that was parked in front of the board, which had number 1 on it. It was his 10th podium in his career in Formula 1. The adrenaline was over the head. Charles had the brightest smile glued to his face as he waved to the crowd.

The roaring cheer from the crowd filled up the pit lane soon as Charles hopped off his car that was parked in front of the board, which had number 1 on it. It was his 10th podium in his career in Formula 1. The adrenaline was over the head. Charles had the brightest smile glued to his face as he waved to the crowd.

"My bracelet?" Charles waited for another piece of his bracelet while he slipped on the last piece of ring that Joris handed. "Joris, where’s the other one?"

"I think Leona took it?" He claimed, checking on his pockets. "Which one was it?"

"The one with black and white. Please ask Leona to give it back. I need it." He mentioned that before getting into the centre, he was once again greeted with a cheer from the crowd.

"Charles! Congratulations on your 10th pole position in your career."

"Thank you, thank you so much. It was a very tough qualifying, and everyone did so well."

Charles came to find Joris, who seemed to be engaging in a conversation with his girlfriend back in the garage after he was done with the photo session.

"Give me back my bracelet."

"Let me wear it for a while." She hid her arms at the back of her waist and giggled when Charles looked defeated. She always found it adorable how he always gave in and let her win in anything.

"Just please give it back when you are done with it."

"It’s just a bracelet? I can even make a new one for you." She rolled her eyes.

"I don’t want you to make a new one; just give it back. It’s a gift from someone."

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"Oh my! Are you okay?" You shrieked.

The idea of taking a picture on the bridge where you could capture the bits of the water ride in your background turned out to be a bad idea when you were drenched head to toe the moment you clicked on the selfie button on your phone.

The picture still made you giggle every time you looked at it. Instead of smiling, Jake and you had your eyes closed, and you could see the big splash of water that was about a drop away from hitting both of you. It was a picture that you could send to be included in those "pictures that were taken a minute before a disaster’ Tiktok videos.

"Having fun?" Dean asked.

"Yeah! Look at this!" You exclaimed. Dean gazed at the picture on your phone and burst out laughing.

"What happened?"

"We didn’t know the water could reach us, and we ended up drenched." You cackled and were about to head upstairs when Dean called you out.

"Charles left you your favourite ice cream. He was waiting for you to come back, but something came up literally 15 minutes ago, I think. So he had to leave." The screen showed a goal celebration from the opponent, making Dean grumble in frustration. "What even was my goalkeeper doing, bro?"

"It must be his girlfriend." You mumbled.

"Yeah, I think so too." You weren’t expecting him to hear you. "He has been a little distant now, hasn’t he?"

"What was his girlfriend like?"

He frowned and paused the match. "Can you come here and talk? I can barely hear you, silly. I’m losing this match because I can’t focus."

Rolling your eyes, you threw yourself on the couch as he went back to the game. "His girlfriend was a little; I don’t know how to say this in the nicest way possible. She seemed to have the upper hand in the relationship."

"Is she nice?" You muttered and flinched when he shouted.

"Why didn’t you pass? This is bullshit. Sorry, what were you saying? Oh, I don’t know." He jumped in his seat when the ball nearly went into the net.

"What do you mean you don’t know?"

"She was ignoring me the whole dinner. I was invisible, I think. Pass the ball!" Dean called out.

"You are ridiculous, Dean!" Rolling your eyes, you head back to your room, leaving your half-anxious brother in the living room, shouting all alone.

"Oh, the dinner ended early, so I only spent, like, not even an hour with her? Charles said he wanted to check on someone." Dean yelled out before going back to his game.

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"I’ll be right back!" You called out and took off your apron before dashing your way to the bathroom. You had started working on your part-time job again now that you were on a summer break.

Every time you started working, you would always set a goal. Last time, it was for Charles’s birthday gift. Well, not for the bracelet alone. You had saved up some money to buy him a watch that reminded you of him. Your budget wasn’t met on time, so you could only give him the bracelet as a temporary replacement until you could buy the main gift. The watch was still in your possession, and you didn’t think it would ever reach Charles. This time, you were saving up for the necklace that you had been eyeing for months. You lost the game with Dean the other night, so now you have to actually work for it.

"Y/N? What are you doing here?"

"Oh– I’m.." The sandwich wrapper in your hand was stuffed into your pocket. You were on a lunch break, and like usual, you would always have your lunch near the fountains where you could see your city from a higher view. This time, your lunch was interrupted by your brother’s best friends. "I’m having my lunch."

"I didn’t know you worked. Café de Paris?" His eyes trailed on the words written on your cap.

"Yeah, just for a short time, though, because I don’t really have anything to do during my break." You gave a soft smile. It’s been a week since the last time you saw him. Since the first argument

"Y/N, I really didn’t mean what I said that day. I just missed 

"I’m all set! Oh, hello! Baby, who’s this?" There was a girl in a short dress. She was stunning. Her makeup looked amazing yet very natural, enhancing her facial features. Her hair looked beautiful with the soft curls that bounced every time she tilted her head.

And she was wearing the bracelet. The same one you had around your wrist.

"She’s my friend. My best friend Y/N, this is, um, my girlfriend, Leona. Leona, Y/N." 

You saw the way she looked at you; the slight smirk on her face when she saw your uniform made you feel self-conscious and smaller. Looking down, you tried to straighten your shirt and kept your hands on your laps, your eyes looking away as you tried to think of a way to excuse yourself.

"Did you give her the same bracelet I got from you?" She scowled. The change in her tone made you dumbstruck.

"No, it was my gift for him." You gritted your teeth in silent fury. She had been looking at you up and down, disgusted, as if you had done something wrong.

"Chill. I am not asking you." She rolled her eyes. Charles was silent the whole time, but he kept on looking at you.

Charles wanted to hold you. He wanted to put you in his embrace. He wanted to talk to you about everything—every single thing. He wanted to apologise, but whenever he saw you, he would always mess things up.

"You don’t have to glare at me like that as if I were that desperate to wear this. Take it then." She pulled the bracelet off and threw it on the ground as she pulled Charles away.

"Just go first." He retracted his hand away, making the girl glunt at you even more before she walked away. "Y/N, what time will you finish your shift? I can wait for you and send you home?"

"Just go, Charles. Just leave me alone."

"Y/N, please,"

"Just go." You snapped. To that end, he walked away, and you looked at him briefly as he looked back every so often while you stood there with the bracelet in your hand.

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flash

The door to your room was barged open, causing you to jump and roll your eyes when your brother walked in.

"What do you want?"

"Well, I just wanted to check on my sister because why the heck did you keep on shouting?" You cursed under your breath when he laid down on your bed with his outside clothes.

"I just wanted to do this, but it’s not working!" The video on your phone was paused ten times as you dipped your head on the table.

"A bracelet? For who?" He took the Koala soft toy and hugged it, his eyes still locked on you at the dressing table.

"Secret!"

He cackled and turned his body to the side, arm angled upwards, head on hand. "I’m not a fool, silly. Charles?"

"How do you know?" He shouldn’t know. You had been so discreet with your feelings that there was no way he would have known, but Dean was also the one who knew everything about you.

"I’m your brother. I know everything. Need my help?"

"No, it’s okay. I got this." You actually wanted to go with a heart bracelet, but this had been your third attempt, and none of the results were up to your liking, so you went with a normal design, which is easier for someone new like you.

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"Charles! Come in!"

You were heading to the kitchen when you heard his voice, which made you trace your steps back and tiptoe your way back to the room.

"I’m sure Dean is sleeping. Wait, I’ll wake him up." Your mom stopped in her tracks when Charles called out.

"Mrs. Y/L/N, I’m actually here for Y/N. Can I see her?" Charles asked as he took a seat on the couch.

"Oh, she went out on a date. She did mention his name, but I couldn’t recall."

"Oh, it’s okay! I’ll just wait for Dean." Charles gave a soft smile as Y/M/N went upstairs, and he heard her shouting Dean’s name.

"Wake up! Your friend’s downstairs. You need to stop sleeping all day long!"

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"Y/N, I actually have something to tell you."

Jake has been acting different from the moment he picked you up. He had been the most outgoing and cheerful person on your first date, but he seemed to be anxious tonight. You could barely carry a conversation along the ride because he would always reply with one or two words.

"Is there anything wrong?" Something in your gut told you that it might not be something good, but there was a little bit of hope that maybe he was nervous because he wanted to talk about your "relationship". After all, this had been your fifth date with him.

"Do you want to order something first?"

"No, it’s okay. What is it?" Tucking the loose strand of hair behind the ear, you gave him a soft, reassuring smile.

"What? How do you know I have something to say?" Jake stuttered.

"Everyone can tell you have something to say to me!" Laughing, you placed your hand on the table and rested your chin on it. "What is it?"

"I wanted to tell you that." He titled his head back and groaned in frustration. "I just don’t know how to tell you this, but,

I’m back with my ex-girlfriend."

The smile on your face dropped almost instantly. It felt like someone kicked you on the head and knocked your breath out. "Wh–what? But I thought we had something. "

"You were amazing. I really had an enjoyable time with you, but I just wasn’t expecting her to come back." He tried to place his hand on yours, but you pulled it away and straightened your back. "And I will always choose her over anyone." He muttered.

That’s when it clicked on you. You would never be anyone’s choice. No matter how hard you try to please anyone, they will always choose someone else.

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"Mind if I continue my sleep here? Thank you. Make yourself at home." Dean gave a thumbs up sarcastically and threw his head back on the throw pillows as he drifted back to sleep. He was at his girlfriend’s house last night doing god-knows-whatever it was, and he came back all worn out, saying that 12 hours of sleep wasn’t enough.

Charles was sitting on the couch across, eyes on the door every once in a while. It has been more than 2 hours, and you should be coming home any minute now.

"What the f-" The phone blasted out The Weeknd’s song so loudly that it made both men in the living room jump in their seats.

"Turn it off, can you?" Dean groaned and covered his face with the throw pillow, making Charles click on his tongue.

"Dude, it’s your phone." He murmured while taking the phone off the coffee table. He was going to put it on hold when the familiar name on the screen caught his attention.

"Little Y/N."

"Hel–" 

"Dean," Charles heard you sob. "Can you—" another sob. "Can you pick me up?"

"Y/N, it’s me. Dean is sleeping." He replied.

"Oh, oh, it’s okay. I’ll just take a bus home."

Charles butted in before you pressed the end button. "Where are you?"

"I’m waiting for a bus."

"Where?"

"It’s okay, Charles."

He heaved a sigh of defeat. "Y/N, don’t do this. Text me your location. I’ll pick you up."

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You trailed the toe cap of your sneaker along the curve on the ground while the sound of a horn and faint music filled the air.

"I’ll always choose her over anyone."

"But I still like you."

"I need you to wait for me; can you do that?"

A chuckle escaped from your lips. Funny how, for a second, you thought your life was getting better, but it felt like you were hit by another rolling stone on your way up your dream hill.

"Pathetic." You muttered, your hand wiping your cheek as another tear escaped from your eyes.

"Y/N, let me take you home. I don’t think your brother is going to let me live if he finds out I let you take the bus this late." Jake pleaded for it ten times. It was getting more annoying now that he kept asking the same thing over and over. You tried to ignore him, but he ended up following you all the way to the bus station. "Give me that." He snatched on your bag, and you held on to the strap, glaring at him.

"Let go! I am not coming with you."

"What’s wrong with it?" 

"Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t want to see you again. Can you just let go of my bag, dumbass?" You yelled when the strap slipped off your hand.

"Is this how you treat a woman when you take her out on a date?" Charles seized the bag and glowered at the other guy suspiciously.

"This is between me and her, dude. Y/N–"

Anything that involves her involves me too. Say whatever you want to say to her, but I’m not going anywhere." Charles got in between, and your sight of Jake was covered by his broad back.

"I just want to send her home." Jake chirped in.

"I’ll be taking her home. You don’t have to worry about that." Charles gave a nod and grabbed your wrist, walking back to his car.

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Your eyes were on your lap, and the words Jake said kept replaying in your head over and over.

"Am I.." 

Charles’s focus went on you when he heard your voice.

"Am I not worthy of love?"

Charles blinked, his brows furrowed, wondering where the question came from. "What makes you say that?"

"I feel like I’ve never had any luck when it comes to love. I never got to confess to you, and all of a sudden I found out you have a girlfriend. I thought Jake was going to confess to me, but it turned out he wanted me to be his backup plan. It was so silly of me to think that for a second, someone could like me back." You wept out of frustration, feeling like you just kept humiliating yourself over and over. "I’m sorry, I don’t know why you have to listen to that."

“I have always chose you.” He whispered.

But you didn’t hear. So, he continued.

"We broke up."

"Hm?" This was the first time you looked at him since you got in the car. He was so beautiful, even in the dark.

"Leona and I broke up." He blurted.

"Do you want me to ask why, or is that an invasion of privacy?" You glanced. He was still keeping an eye on the road; the street lights illuminated his face.

"No," he chuckled. "I know you always want the details on everything, so go ahead and ask."

"Okay, why? When?" You were now completely turned to face him, just as far as the seatbelt allowed.

"A week ago? I don’t know. I don’t know what happened. Everything was perfect at the beginning, but lately there hasn’t been a day where we won’t fight. It was draining. I don’t know what went wrong. And the–" He inhaled. "She got really angry when she found out about the bracelet, so yeah, we broke up."

"I’m sorry.." You breathed out.

"Sorry for?"

"For the bracelet, It was the reason she broke up with you." You straighten your back, leaning against the car set.

"Your bracelet was my lucky charm, Y/N. It was the reason I managed to get the pole and podium. I always felt the need to do my best because I wanted to make you proud. I wouldn’t have taken it off if it wasn’t for race week."

You wanted to hold his hand on the gear shift, but you were too scared, so you held yourself. "You always make me proud. Podium or not? Pole position or the last one in the starting grid, I’m always proud of you."

"Wanna go and get ice cream?"

"Yeah!" You exclaimed. "My favourite one?"

"Your favourite one. Are you up for a card game?"

"I never say no to a stupid card game." You replied.

Whatever happened that night was a little secret between Charles and you. You had told him to never tell your brother about what happened.

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"Y/N! You are cheating, aren’t you? That’s impossible! Give me your cards. Why can’t you just play clean?" You leaned away and brought the cards closer to your chest.

"The game hasn’t finished yet!" You put down another piece of card, giggling when he dumped his whole card right away and laid down.

"I don’t want to play anymore."

"You are so silly!" You gathered all the cards back into one bundle and put them back in a box. This was his third time losing, and while you were having a lot of fun, he was in misery.

It had been a few weeks since the last time you saw Jake. He did try to reach out, but you felt like there was no need for any other explanation from him. Charles came by every so often during his break, more often now that he has no one blowing up his phone.

He found out Leona was hanging out with someone else through Dean because, just like you, he was a really big fan of tea, but there weren’t as many hard feelings involved. She did deserve to be happy.

He came by again, though you told him Dean wasn’t home this weekend. Here he was, in your room, playing cards or listening to you rant about your customers.

"And then he was like, "Excuse me, where’s the whipped cream?" and my co-worker looked at me and was like, "Are you hearing this?"" 

He was lying on his side, head on his hand, while smiling and frowning, mimicking your expression as he rode the emotional rollercoaster ride where one second you were mad and the next second you were laughing. "Wait, I thought he said no whipped cream?" He recalled it.

"Yeah! And he was also the one who got mad because there was no whipped cream in his drink!"

"So what happened? Did he get the whipped cream in the end?" Charles sat up and bent down to get his paper bag that he had placed at the foot of your bed.

"Oh, I don’t know." You shrugged. My co-worker was the one who handled it."

"What the heck? You can’t just tell a story without an ending. That was anticlimatic, Y/N. Oh–" He took out a velvet box from the paper bag and handed it to you. "I wanted to give you this."

Your eyes went from him to the box in his hand. "It’s not my birthday yet."

"I know, but I won’t be here next week. I need to fly back to Maranello. Open it. I’m not sure if you’ll like it, but yeah, I hope you do."

The velvet box contained a Van Cleef & Arpels 18k rose gold necklace with a vintage Alhambra pendant. The one you had been eyeing since forever. "Are you crazy? I can’t take this." Your eyes widened in surprise as you closed the box. 

"No, take it. It’s your birthday gift! I can’t return it, silly. I threw away the sales slip." He crossed his arms so you wouldn't be able to shove the box back into his hands.

"It’s expensive! How do you know this was the necklace I wanted?" You gently took it out of the box and admired the way it was dazzling and dangling from your hand.

"I asked Dean. And I saw you were looking at it when I bumped into you during your lunch break the other day. Here, let me help you." He took the necklace from your hand and draped it around your neck. He found himself smiling fondly when you let go of your hair, the way the hair fell perfectly to frame your face as you gave off the brightest, radiant smile that always struck on him.

"I really don’t deserve this, Charles. My birthday gift to you was just that."

"Speaking about that, can you give me back the bracelet? Technically, it’s still mine." He scratches the back of his hair. "And I kinda need it for my next race."

"It’s all dirty now. But I can make you a new one."

"Just give it back, Y/N. And then you teach me how to make another one. Also, I was thinking if." He pursed his lips. "If I can take you out on a date after my upcoming race,"

The question had knocked you for six. You wanted to scream, but instead, you tilted your head away just so you could gather up all your emotions before you could look at him in the eyes. "I don’t know. Let me think about it first."

"I thought you liked me?"

Your brows furrowed as you looked at him head-to-toe. "Excuse me?! That was very cocky of you to assume."

"You literally confessed to me in my car weeks ago when I picked you up from the horrible date." He shrugged and cocked a brow.

"I didn’t."

"You did! Are you going to say yes, or am I getting rejected?" He tilted his head with a grin to catch your eyes as you kept on looking away.

"I’ll think about it. Oh! I actually have a belated birthday gift for you.” Standing up, you went to your drawer and pulled it open to get another small box.

“I thought the bracelet was my gift?” Charles took the box and tried to shake on it.”

“It was supposed to be a temporary one.” You looked at the box and back to him back and forth, trying so hard not to squeal. You had been waiting to give it to him as it had been in your drawer collecting dust.

“You got me another bracelet? Oh, I like it. It matched the rest of mine.” He put it on immediately and extended his arm to check on his bracelet collections from afar. “I am not gonna take this one off too. Thank you, Y/N. But I still need the old one though.”

“Oh, should we make a new one together?”

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Let me know if you could pick out few of the events where Charles picked reader first over anyone else!

✧.* general tag list! @i83andrew @cltrlne @karmabyfernando @ohthemisssery @ru-kru @tastebaldwin @f1obessed @love4lando @shinrjj @ietss @leclerc13 @darleneslane @buckybarnessweetheart @xcinnamongirl

✧.* tag list for p.3! @sabrinaselina55 @honey6578 @julesandro @boherahpsody @gulphulp @bansheelydiia

If your usernames were crossed, meaning I can’t tag you! Let me know if you would like to be removed or to be added to the tag list! Or if I missed anyone!

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagines #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagines #f1 imagine #f1 x reader

[spaceshipellie]

we were never just friends

ellie williams x reader

part three (part one, part two, part four)

summary: modern!ellie, both in their mid twenties. ellie and reader have been friends for years, their friendship has always been somewhat flirty but nothing has ever happened. not yet anyway…

warnings: angst, ellie’s pov for a bit, loser ellie but also cocky ellie, gay pining, reader being chaotic, mdni

author’s note: i feel so evil for this. thank you sm to everyone who’s read/liked/commented/reblogged, it really makes my day considering this is my first fic, love you all <3<3

word count: 4k approx

“what the fuck have we done?”

“i’m pretty sure we just fucked,” ellie whispered, a smile evident in her voice.

you stared up at the ceiling, in disbelief at what just happened. it felt as though it all happened so quickly yet time seemed to have stopped. the dim, dark blue of the room and the midnight hour made it feel like you could spend an eternity here before returning to the real world.

“what are you thinking about?” ellie broke you out of your trance.

“i was just thinking…” your voice trailed off. what exactly were you thinking?

half of you felt a euphoria you’d never experienced in your life. this breaking of the threshold of your friendship with ellie dripped with temptation and you had to use every ounce of willpower to not reach out and grab it again.

however, the other half of you felt an uneasy sense of dread. you’d just fucked your best friend in a bed that was meant for you and your girlfriend that weekend. not only were you going to have to figure out what to tell kate, you were worried what this might do to your friendship with ellie.

you’d always been close and when friends get close, harmless flirting can sometimes follow. you could admit to yourself that at times you had felt jealous of the girls ellie dated and that she occasionally flustered you, but you never thought that meant anything. or rather, you’d never allowed yourself to think it meant something.

ellie meant the world to you and the idea of losing her made your chest ache. you had been in happy, loving relationships before which had come to a bitter end and you supposed, subconsciously, you had thought that if you couldn’t handle those relationships ending, how on earth could you cope if ellie left your life. staying friends had always been the safest option.

“i was just thinking about how i don’t want this to make things weird between us,” you confessed.

ellie immediately shifted to lie on her side, facing you.

“hey, it won’t,” she touched your cheek and you moved to your side to face her, hands tucked under your pillow.

“you’d have to try pretty fucking hard to get rid of me.”

you laughed, thankful for her encouragement. but the next thing she said made your heart drop.

“i don’t know what i’d do without you anyway.”

you looked at her, longingly, unsure of what the right thing to say here was.

you stroked a hand down her arm that was resting between you until you reached her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“i’m not going anywhere, i just have to figure out what i’m supposed to do.”

if it weren’t for the darkness you would have seen the sadness that took over her face.

“i know,” she said faintly.

you remained like that for a moment, sleep almost consuming you until she pulled her hand away and sat up.

“i should probably go back to my room, you know, incase they catch us in here together.”

she searched around for her clothes, muttering a “fuck” as she bumped into the dresser.

“do you want me to turn the light on?”

“no, no, it’s fine. i got it.”

she clumsily pulled her shorts and t-shirt on and paused at the door.

“night.”

“night, ellie.” and with that she left.

you ran your hands over your face and pinched the bridge of your nose. don’t even think about it, just go to sleep, you thought. you tossed and turned for a while, but eventually you drifted off.

˚ · • . ° .

when you awoke in the morning, you could barely remember where you were. that was until you caught sight of your underwear on the floor.

you dragged yourself out of bed and threw some pyjamas on so you could go and use the bathroom. after showering you went back to your room and got changed before heading downstairs. the creek the last step made caused everyone’s heads to turn in your direction.

“hey, you’re up!” dina beamed. you noticed she was putting together some breakfast.

your eyes immediately latched onto ellie’s who was sat at the kitchen table. you shuffled over and took a seat opposite her.

“smells amazing, deen,” you mused.

“thanks, there’s loads here so don’t be shy,” she said as she put the food on the table. a stack of four plates already there for you to take.

as you ate, you talked about what you might do that day. aside from you and ellie sneaking glances at each other from across the table, everything seemed normal.

freya had told you about a farmer’s market that was close by which sounded fun so you agreed that’s what you’d do that morning.

in the car on the way, you were sat next to ellie in the back. her knees were spread so one kept bumping into yours with every jolt of the car. you didn’t talk very much, content with just listening to dina and freya mostly, as well as the music that played. you felt sick every time you thought about what the hell you were supposed to do now. you knew you were going to tell kate but you didn’t know how and you didn’t know when. tomorrow you’d get back from this trip and then there were only a couple of days before you were leaving for california. looking out the window and biting your nails you wished you could just stay in this car and drive forever, far away from the mess you’d made.

“you okay?” ellie’s quiet voice snapped you out of it.

“yeah, yeah, i’m fine,” you gave her a weak smile. you wished you could tell what she was thinking. to be able to tell what that look in her eye meant.

suddenly, you felt the car stop and freya announced that you were there. you all clambered out, adjusting your tote bag on your shoulder, and headed towards the market stalls.

it was quaint and lively as you wandered around. you casually browsed everything from the fruit and veg stalls to the jewellery and art stalls.

“hey, you could sell your art, you know?” you said to ellie, gesturing towards a stall where a woman was selling watercolour and charcoal drawings.

“i don’t think i’m that good.”

you both slowly strolled on, dina and freya somewhere up ahead.

“yes you are, i love your art.”

she gave you a quick smile before shaking her head.

“i’m fine just doing it for me.”

you lightly nodded, looking at her face as she looked ahead. there was a hint of dejection in her expression and she was dragging her feet more than normal. without really thinking, you grabbed her hand and pulled her to the side, away from the flow of people. she stood in front of you, eyes scanning your face waiting for you to explain.

“we need to talk about this,” you rushed out.

she hung her head and lightly kicked a rock on the ground.

“yeah, we probably do.”

“i’m really sorry, i shouldn’t have done it and i–“

“will you stop apologising?”

her eye contact was more intense than it had been before and she sounded serious as she cut you off.

“sorry,” you mumbled out and she let out a laugh before composing herself.

“are you gonna tell her?”

“i have to. i mean, i’d want her to tell me if she…”

ellie just nodded, looking down at her feet.

“can i ask you something?” she said.

“of course.”

“do you hope she’ll forgive you?”

her question caught you off guard. yes, seemed like the right answer so yes, you hoped she did. but a tiny part of you was here, looking at ellie’s face, not caring whether kate did or didn’t. the anticipation in ellie’s voice also made you wonder why she’d asked you that.

“why do you ask?” your voice came out small.

“because,” she sighed, “never mind.”

“ellie…”

“no, it’s,” she waved her hand in dismissal, “it’s none of my business.”

your heart pulled. you wanted to know what she was going to say so badly but didn’t want to push. she gestured towards the stalls.

“let’s go find them.”

˚ · • . ° .

— ellie’s pov —

“ok,” your voice was quiet and deflated and it made ellie feel terrible.

she was so torn about what to do. what could she do except wait on the sidelines? she so desperately wanted to know when you were going to tell kate and selfishly, she wanted to know if you and kate would stay together.

last night was something she’d dreamed of happening for as long as she could remember. she felt dazed just thinking about it. the way your lips felt against hers. the way you whimpered when she touched you. the way you made her feel so good.

something amazing had finally happened between you both. the only problem was it had happened under the worst fucking circumstances. she could kick herself for not doing something about her feelings sooner, when you were single, and everything could have been good.

she hated herself for the way she lost her mind around you. normally, she was pretty confident with women, but with you, it’s like every time she saw you her biggest fear became you finding out that she liked you because what if you didn’t feel the same. what if you rejected her and it ripped the fabric of your friendship forever. but, you had kissed her back. you had wanted her. she just now needed to know how much. soon enough you both found dina and freya over by a fruit and vegetable stall.

“there you guys are,” dina said before looking at ellie, her smile dropping slightly. fuck, ellie thought, she knows somethings wrong.

the four of you continued walking around, you’d bought some food to have back at the cabin and when it was midday you decided to go back. the entire car ride ellie’s brain was just spinning in circles about what could happen next. she couldn’t decide if she wanted this trip to be over now so she could find out or if she wanted to savour every second she had left here, away from reality.

as soon as dina noticed you and freya distracted by putting the shopping away, she grabbed ellie’s arm and pulled her into a different room.

“is everything ok?”

“yeah, why wouldn’t it be?”

“come on, ellie, don’t give me that. what’s going on?”

ellie looked down at her hands and played with her rings.

“it’s nothing, really.”

“did something happen?” dina’s voice was hesitant, “with you guys?”

ellie’s head snapped up to look at her.

“no, why would you say that?” her voice came out defensive and dina closed her eyes for a second, pondering what to say.

“i’m not stupid, you know. i see the way you look at her. the way you’ve always looked at her.”

ellie couldn’t deny it anymore.

“shit,” she ran a hand through her hair, “i know, it’s bad isn’t it?”

“well, it’s not bad to have feelings for her. it’s just difficult as she’s with someone.”

“yeah,” ellie let out a small, sarcastic laugh.

“so, what are you gonna do?”

“nothing. absolutely nothing.”

dina looked at ellie and felt sad. she pulled her in for a hug and rubbed her back comfortingly.

“it’ll be ok. talk to me if you need to, i know what you’re like.”

ellie laughed but appreciated dina’s encouragement.

“can’t say i can make any promises.”

˚ · • . ° .

— your pov —

the four of you spent the rest of the day cooking, swimming, and playing board games. things between you and ellie seemed relatively normal, she had perked up a bit since this morning which you were glad about. then your phone buzzed.

kate 🩵

10:34pm

hope you’re having a good time. i’m visiting my parent’s atm so won’t see you until wednesday morning, can’t wait to go away with you xx

your stomach dropped. fuck. wednesday was the day you were traveling to california. kate’s parents lived miles away, you couldn’t just go and see her now. how the fuck were you supposed to tell her before you went away? you thought you could call but you wanted to tell her in person so you could talk properly. you wrote back an unsure reply.

you

10:37pm

okay, see you then. me too xx

you put your phone back in your pocket, not wanting to look at it again. everyone was getting tired so when dina and freya said they were going to bed, you quickly jumped up saying you were too. before you followed them upstairs, you turned to ellie.

“are we ok?”

she gave you a reassuring smile.

“yeah, we’re ok.”

you hugged for a moment, giving her a small squeeze before you pulled away and both went to bed.

˚ · • . ° .

“how fucking could you?”

“ellie, please. i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry.”

“i don’t care if you’re sorry, you fucked up. you’re a horrible person. you were a horrible friend and i never want to see you agai–“

your body jolted awake.

you had the worst nightmare and it took your eyes a minute to adjust to the room that was still dark. your eyes squinted as you looked at your bright phone screen. 2:17am. groaning, you swung yourself out of bed and made your way downstairs to get a glass of water.

“shit,” you jumped upon seeing a figure already leaning against the counter by the window. the only light in the room came from a tiny lamp.

“ellie, you scared me.”

“sorry.”

you went and leaned against the counter opposite her. she was wearing baggy sweatpants that hung low on her waist and a white tank top.

“can i have some of that?” you pointed at her joint.

“sure,” she said, passing it to you, “can’t sleep?”

you took a drag before shaking your head, “no, you?”

“no.”

it was silent as you passed the joint back and forth a couple times.

“this is pretty fucked up, isn’t it?” she half-heartedly laughed, bringing it to her lips, looking at you.

you laughed with her, folding your arms over your chest.

“it is pretty fucked.”

her eyes lazily trailed over your body making your cheeks heat up and you shifted from one foot to the other.

“this isn’t how i expected the weekend would go,” you tried to lighten the tension but it was useless.

“me neither,” ellie said mindlessly, stepping forward and pulling the spaghetti strap of your top back up onto you shoulder after it had slipped down. her fingers touching your bare skin made you shiver.

“what are you doing?” you warned.

“you can tell me to stop.”

she gently grabbed your arms and uncrossed them from your body before sliding a hand down to your waist.

“do you want me to stop?” she taunted, putting her other arm behind her to stub the joint out on the sink, her eyes never leaving yours.

“i–no?” your voice was a mere quivered whisper.

she smirked and her eye lids went heavy as she slowly placed a light kiss on your lips. her face was still close to yours when she pulled away but she wanted you to do something.

your hands were gripping the counter you were pressed against. her hand spread itself wide on your waist whilst the other leant on the counter behind you.

“this is such a bad idea,” you muttered before kissing her again. your hands moved to hold her face and you moaned a little into it, truly feeling erratic but it was all too tempting. her hips pressed into yours and pathetically you clenched around nothing, itching to have her hands on you in you again.

“fuck fuck, stop,” you whined, not wanting her to but you had to. she stopped kissing you but you still held each other close.

“ellie,” your voice cracked, “i can’t. i want to but i can’t.”

she leaned her forehead on yours and rubbed her thumb on your waist.

“okay.” her voice was barely above a whisper. your hands squeezed her shoulders before letting go and she slid her hand away from your waist.

you went back to bed wanting to punch yourself. how was this happening. you still couldn’t sleep, a million thoughts barrelling through your mind.

you had never fully addressed your feelings for ellie out of fear of getting hurt. well isn’t that fucking ironic, you thought. not only were you hurt anyway but you were hurting other people. you knew you were being a coward. if you could bring yourself to just ask ellie outright how she felt about you then maybe this would be easier. if you could have done all of this six months ago it would be easier. but you didn’t and now there was a heavy weight of anxiety drilling into you every time you thought about the consequences.

˚ · • . ° .

the next morning, you felt like a ghost. you were so unbearably tired after getting no sleep last night. you patted your cheeks trying to knock some life into you so you could get up and get ready. stumbling down the stairs you noticed only dina and freya were there.

“where’s ellie?”

“still asleep i think,” dina said. she looked at you with soft eyes as if she was trying to work something out. you ignored it, praying she hadn’t got a clue about what had been going on. it was nearly 11am and the plan was to have brunch at the cabin before heading home. you helped dina and freya get the food sorted and arranged on the table when ellie came downstairs, rubbing her eyes and yawning.

“morning sleepy,” dina cooed.

“morning,” ellie said sitting down next to you, but she didn’t look at you.

you were pretty much ready to go after you ate and cleaned up seeing as you didn’t really unpack. you loaded up the car with your stuff before heading off, dina taking charge of the music in the front.

“did you guys have a good time?” freya directed her question at you and ellie, catching your eye in the rear view mirror. at the same time you and ellie shot out, “yeah loved it,” and “yeah it was great.”

“thanks so much for inviting us,” you added.

“anytime.”

you and ellie ended up falling asleep on the drive home, not waking up until the car stopped. your eyes fluttered open and you realised your head had been leaning on her shoulder and hers on your head. slightly confused, you both sleepily looked at each other before realising that freya was parked outside ellie’s place.

“oh fuck, sorry,” she said. dina and freya giggled, giving each other a knowing look.

“it’s alright.”

ellie got out the car and grabbed her bag before bending down to see through the open window.

“thanks freya, see you later guys.”

she caught your eye for a split second before going inside. you slouched in your seat whilst freya started the car again, heading to your place to drop you off.

˚ · • . ° .

you’d mostly been working the last couple of days since the cabin weekend which was good because it took your mind off everything by about 2%.

you hadn’t seen anyone either which was just as well because your nerves were through the fucking roof. you had wanted to tell kate before you went away as you assumed you wouldn’t be going anymore after she found out. if only she hadn’t been away at her parents prior, because it was now wednesday, and kate was on her way over.

she burst through the door after you buzzed her into the building, immediately rambling about everything you had to do. she started listing off everything to make sure you’d got it and you kept trying to interject.

“you’ve got your passport? your kindle? your–“

“kate, i need to tell–“

“–your phone charger–“

“please, can we just slow down a minute?”

“we don’t have time, we need to leave in like 30 seconds,” she said rummaging through her bag, checking everything again.

“i know but i need to talk to you.”

“babe,” she stopped to look at you, “we’ve got all the time in the world to talk, when we get there.”

you wanted to just blurt it out and get it over with but something was stopping you. the words were getting stuck in your throat like you were trying to scream on command. you really wanted to tell her before california but stupidly, you found yourself boarding that goddamn plane.

kate had read her book the entire flight there so you read yours too. you were sat in a taxi on the way to the hotel when you remembered to turn your phone back on. a text had come through just a few minutes after you had boarded.

ellie 👽

12:38pm

have a safe flight x

your leg bounced as your thumbs hovered over your phone.

you

4:56pm

thank you x

you wanted the ground to swallow you whole. you wanted that stupid spaceship you and ellie had joked about to come crashing down on top of you. the taxi driver started pulling up at your hotel and helped you get your luggage out. you thanked him and went through to check-in.

kate started talking to the receptionist as you smiled at her then looked around the lobby. jesus, it was fancy, you thought. when you got to your room you let out a deep breath, dumping your things down and falling backwards on the bed, hands running over your face in post-travel exhaustion.

you felt the bed dip and a hand peel yours away until you saw kate above you. you dropped your hand on the bed and hers placed itself on your waist as she leant down to kiss you. you kind of hesitated to kiss her back but she didn’t seem to notice as she started leaving kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“what time did we book dinner?” you asked. she kept kissing.

“kate?”

she hummed against your skin.

“what time did we book dinner?”

she stopped and looked at you.

“uumm, 7 i think? why?”

“just couldn’t remember.”

she started to push her hand up under your top before you suddenly grabbed it.

“i’m not– i’m sorry, i wanna go have a shower. wash the plane off me,” you said, starting to sit up making her move off of you. she didn’t say anything just let you go and lock yourself in the bathroom. you leant on the sink and looked at yourself in the mirror.

“you are such a bitch,” you mouthed to your reflection before sighing and stripping to get in the shower.

your evening consisted of going to dinner and drinking far too many cocktails which made you crash instantly when you got back to the hotel.

the next day, you got up leisurely. you removed your smudged makeup from the night before, chugged a pint of water and got yourself ready for a day of lounging on the beach.

“so how was your weekend?” kate asked from where she sat beside you.

“it was,” your voice cracked so you coughed to clear it, “it was good thanks, freya’s cabin is beautiful. how was your time at your parents?”

“great, haven’t seen them for a while so was good to spend some time up there.”

“aw good, i’m glad.”

the silence that followed was probably a comfortable one for kate as she started to get her book out of her bag again but it was a soul-crushing one for you. you got your book out too and pretended to read whilst you went over everything again in your mind.

your day at the beach was filled with lots of reading, swimming, eating, and spiralling. it was about 5pm when you got back to the hotel room. your body felt like it was about to enter fight or flight.

“is everything alright?” kate asked, noticing your fidgeting.

“um, yeah,” you tried to sound upbeat.

“it’s just i feel like you’ve been acting weird ever since we got here. in fact, you were acting strange before we left your apartment.”

you sighed. your timing honestly couldn’t be worse if you tried but it was now or never, you thought. you couldn’t avoid it anymore, you just had to rip it off like a bandaid.

“i was trying to tell you that i need to tell you something.”

“ok?”

you hung your head and squeezed your eyes shut.

“i slept with ellie.”

˚ · • . ° .

tag list: @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @robinismywifee @gold-dustwomxn @rolly-pollie @sapphicproblem @harrysslutsstuff

an: this was probably the hardest part so far to write because i had no idea how to get the reader to tell kate. i know they’re SO MESSY BUT THATS RHE POINT

#spaceshipellie fics #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie tlou #the last of us #tlou 2 #ellie williams x female reader #best friends to lovers #ellie williams angst #ellie williams fluff #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fanfic

[wangxianficrecs]

Rewind 2023 - Part II

WangxianFicRecs - Rewind 2023

Here is part two of our favourite stories published in 2023! Reminder that if you also want to give a shout-out to a story, submit an ask and we will share it in an upcoming post featuring Follower Recs and Proud Author Spotlights.

Part I

~*~

the dream of the fisherman's husband

by luckymarrow (@luckymarrow)

E, 5k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: “Really? Are you fucking with me? Once for yes, twice for no.” Two taps. Wei Ying scrambles from his desk and over to the tank, presses his face right against the glass. “Was Wen Ning right?” he whispers. His breath fogs the glass. “Are you our new cephalopod overlords?” Once again, the little blue and white octopus taps twice against the glass. Wei Ying goggles. Then it taps a sequence against the glass. But Wei Ying has worked on enough expedition ships to know Morse code, or at least the most important code of all—SOS. This little octopus needs help.

~*~

New Perspective

by mrcformoso (@mrcformoso)

T, Series, 34k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary Part One: “Lan Zhan, let me go.” The last memory Lan Zhan has of Wei Ying was the soft, serene smile on his face as he fell to his death. It was, perhaps, what haunted him the most. When it came to the matters regarding Wei Ying, Lan Zhan was always too late. A character study looking into Lan Zhan’s character development between Wei Ying’s death and resurrection, and his struggles of changing in the wake of his newfound fatherhood.

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The Art of Communication

by mrcformoso (@mrcformoso)

G, 4k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Lan Zhan can only say so much before the words get caught in his throat. He has long learned how to use his words sparingly, how to build enough of a reputation to minimize the use of words, has learned to hide behind little grunts and pointed looks. In contrast, Wei Ying never seemed to run out of words, speaking often and quickly, whatever was on his mind, mumbling equations and theories and his own thoughts as if he had a word quota to meet and exceed on a daily basis. So the Gusu University students found it rightfully strange that the two were dating. Chapter 1: Outsiders POV Chapter 2: Lan Zhan POV Chapter 3: Wei Ying POV

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❤️ Across the street to another life

by danegen (@danegen)

M, 99k, Wangxian | Kay's & Mojo's Rec

Summary: Wangji stays on the piano bench as they’re closing up. Wei Ying chews his lip, knowing what he’s going to do but horrified at himself. But what’s the alternative: kick the guy out and find him sleeping beside the dumpster in the morning? And that’s if the cops don’t take him in for vagrancy. “Wangji?” Wangji looks up. Please don’t be a serial killer. “So, we’re closing up for the night, but A-Yuan and I live upstairs. Do you want to join us for dinner?” Wangji blinks. His head bobs in what’s probably a yes. “Great!” Fuck. Or a ragged monosyllabic man wearing a collar shows up at Wei Ying's music store. Wei Ying and A-Yuan ask, is anyone going to adopt this guy? And then they don't wait for an answer.

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💙 Concord

by Deastar (@youhideastar)

T, 41k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Lan Wangji hopes, somewhat frivolously, that his betrothed might find him an acceptable companion. Neither he nor Wei Wuxian are able to bear children, so there will be no need to share a marital bed; that should make it easier for the two of them to reach a natural, comfortable equilibrium. Two strings played in harmony: this is Lan Wangji’s quiet hope, as he arranges the Jingshi to accommodate a second inhabitant. Perhaps, he thinks, they might even become friends.

~*~

silk linked together

by theLoyalRoyalGuard

G, 6k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Lan Wangji runs a sanctuary for rescued bunnies. His life is quiet and routine. Until Mo Xuanyu needs a place to stay out of trouble. He doesn’t expect to end up rescuing him, too.

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Making Mouths at Dragons

by athena_crikey

E, 10, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Wei Ying takes a slow breath, then another. “Then you’d want… that? A baby? A kid?” Lan Zhan’s low rumble has a hint of dragon in it, a lick of thunder. For a moment Wei Ying can almost hear the rush of the tide in his ears, storms and seafoam. His mind is full of the glint of moonlight on scales, silver and rippling like silk. “With you? Yes.”

~*~

Behind the Scenes

by QueenXIV

E, 5k, NMJ/LWJ | Kay's Rec

Summary: Nie Mingjue felt dirty. Horrible. He had paid to see his best friend's didi fuck himself with a dildo. He had jerked off to it. He had liked it. He was fucked.

~*~

Playing Possum

by DizziDreams (@dizzi-dreams)

T, 1k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Lan Wangji is woken in the night by the sound of animals fighting, and there is more to the opossum he rescues than there seems.

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Once-body

by ByCandlelight

M, 10k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Years after he was disowned by the Jiangs, Wei Ying lives a quiet life working at a funeral home. Then he reencounters his former high school classmate Lan Zhan, who is planning his father’s cremation. Wei Ying won’t pass up the chance to get closer to his former crush, but first he has to hide all the brains in his freezer.

~*~

Lessons in Belonging

by Nyatci (@nyatci)

M, 12, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: Lan Zhan looks back at various moments during the years and thinks about the emotional wounds caused by Wei Ying’s adoptive family. Or alternatively: 5 times Lan Zhan worried about Wei Ying and 1 time he realized he didn’t have to worry anymore.

~*~

Jin Ling and Demonic Cultivation

by ImNobody122 (@colorsunlikeanythingseen)

Not rated, 8k, Jin Ling | Kay's Rec

Summary: Mo Xuanyu was not the first demonic cultivator Jin Ling had to rescue from his uncle's hands.

~*~

mother of mothers

by SpeedingCheetah

T, 11k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary:There was a girl in Gusu, who played the flute and sung songs to the fish in the rivers as townspeople let her sit on their boats; stirring away and humming. There was a girl who smiled, who had a blood red ribbon and blood red eyes. The girl was a boy who was not alive. A ghost who stayed in the city because his mother made him promise. He seemed happy enough anyway, coming to the docks, coming to the paths. He bought apples, he spoke Gusu’s dialect in a rustic tongue that was many, many years out of date—ancient, prosperous. Only a few elders understood the clicking accent the way Wuxian spoke it. He was Lan Wangji’s sole companion. He was also the being who had been cursed many years ago to never wake up, and never live. Lan Wangji wished to help fix that. (or: cangse sanren’s child is a ghost of nature, and cursed to sleep forever. a boy still makes friends with the ghost anyway.)

~*~

exit, pursued by fierce corpse

by hauntedotamatone (@hauntotamatone)

Not rated, 4k, WWX & WN | Kay's Rec

Summary: “The Jin clan of Lanling is rich beyond rich,” The second boy whispers, or rather, attempts to whisper. “If we bring them the head of the Yiling Laozu, they’ll have no choice but to reward us!” It’s quite a stupid endeavor, especially for three, unarmed, young masters whose knowledge of combat and heroism likely comes from playhouses alone. - “Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning whispers, barely louder than the sound of a person breathing and all the more striking when it comes from one who does not. His face is still, the undisturbed waters of a pond, but there is something in his eyes that reminds him of brightness, the shine of a dragonfly skimming the water. - alternatively; wen qionglin, the method actor.

~*~

If I had to keep being separated from you like this (I'd rather die)

by katje

E, 30k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: “So, you’re here to become my blood thrall, are you?” Mr. Wei finally turned, and Lan Wangji had to fight to swallow the gasp that tried to escape his throat. He was beautiful. His long, pitch-black hair was pulled into a ponytail that flowed in smooth waves over his shoulder, and he was clad in a red dress shirt that was buttoned only halfway up his chest, exposing his sharp collar bones and a hint of the smooth skin of his torso. He was pale - too pale. And he had the most striking grey eyes Lan Wangji had ever seen. Eyes that immediately betrayed him as a nonhuman. As a cold, powerful, immortal vampire that Lan Wangji was about to sell himself to. OR Lan Wangji enters into a contract to become Wei Wuxian's blood thrall to save his uncle, and finds more than a heartless vampire at the end of the deal.

~*~

fracture fix

by phosphorous

G, 5k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: What he did not say: I don’t want to be anywhere in this world where you aren’t. I want to know you inside out. I want to know you forever. I want you to know me inside out and I want you to know me forever too. I am a burden. But I am yours. I want to be yours, for as long as you will have me. “I love you, Lan Zhan,” he had said instead. It had ebbed and flowed in the space over their heads like tides in a river. Eventually, it had settled. Eventually, it had stayed.

~*~

What Dreams May Come

by Admiranda (@ladypfenix)

G, 5k, Ouyang Zichen | Kay's Rec

Summary: Qiu Shiyu is a pragmatic young woman, she knows that the marriage her father wants to arrange will be more for his benefit than hers. But even so, she cannot help hoping that her prospective husband to be just might be someone who can match her romantic side too.

~*~

Mask

by BurningTea (@humanformdragon)

M, 30k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: The cultivation world knows that Wei Wuxian is dead. It knows that the Yiling Patriarch has appeared, dangerous and powerful enough for Wen Ruohan to offer an alliance. And a prize. The Wen Sect is happy to agree when the Yiling Patriarch demands one of their hostages, Lan Wangji.

~*~

Letters along a River

by Ilona22

M, 19k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec

Summary: They met at the stairs leading to the Cloud Recesses and when days spent together lead to a tentative friendship, letters lead to more. Meanwhile, trouble grows, quietly creeping along in the realms of politics and the supernatural.

~*~

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#wangxian fic rec #wangxianficrecs #rewind 2023 #mdzs #the untamed #wangxian #fandom event #long post #Kay's Rec #Mojo's Rec #Kay's Favorite #Mojo's Favorite #The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #MDZS #Mo Dao Zu Shi

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Not Yours, Never Was

Pairing: Tom Bennett x nameless female character (third person perspective) Warnings: Angst. Jealousy. Violence. Eventual smut. Word count: ~4k

Summary: She's been friends with Tom since childhood. When he returns to Manchester, following his escape from France, they become something more. The problem with Tom is that he's never quite willing to define what "more" actually is. Based on this request.

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

Tom rolls off of her, his hair plastered to his forehead with sweat, as he gasps for breath. One arm snakes around her shoulders as she cuddles against his chest, while the other reaches for his cigarettes on the bedside table.

She basks in the closeness, a satisfying ache between her thighs, knowing the moment is almost at its end. She listens to the click of the lighter, inhaling softly through her nose as a waft of smoke fills her nostrils with its familiar scent.

Then come the words she's been dreading.

"You should probably push off home, love, Lois will be back soon." 

She nods, rising from the bed and beginning to dress. It's been this way ever since he came home.

Her and Tom had grown up living opposite each other on the same street. He'd teased her mercilessly, as boys will do to girls, but they'd always been friends. She'd felt sick with worry when he'd joined the navy, and her heart had broken when his father, Douglas, had told her he'd been reported as MIA in Dunkirk.

The day he'd returned to Castlefield had felt like a dream. He'd ducked in through the open back door while she was in the kitchen making tea and she'd dropped the teapot in shock when she caught sight of him. It had shattered upon the tiled floor, but it didn't seem to matter, not when he stood there with that lopsided smirk of his plastered across his gorgeous face.

Wordlessly they'd closed the gap, kissing each other hungrily, silent outpourings of I missed you expressed with every tender touch and caress.

From that point onwards they had seized every opportunity to be together. On the nights that her dad was on late shifts at the factory, she'd leave the lamp on for Tom in her bedroom window, a signal that it was safe for him to come up; her mum had always been a sound sleeper. In turn, she'd go to his house whenever Douglas and Lois weren't home.

She understood the need for privacy. Tom shared a room with his sister and she still lived with her parents, none of whom would appreciate them fornicating under the same roof. However, as the months had slipped by, it occurred to her that she and Tom had never actually been on a proper date, let alone been seen in public together.

"You know, Tommy," She says, as she finishes buttoning her blouse. "There's a dance at the Wharf on Saturday, to celebrate the rest of the troops coming home."

"Yeah, I saw," He replies, rubbing his brow and taking another drag of his cigarette. "My old man brought a leaflet home from his rounds the other day."

"Thought it might be nice if we went together?" She offers with a bright smile.

Tom's eyebrows raise as his eyes widen, and he exhales smoke through his nose. "Oh, I dunno about that, love. Probably not a good idea."

She feels her heart lurch and quickly looks away, not wanting him to see how badly his words have affected her. "Right. Well, I'll see you around."

She rises from the bed, walking towards the door, and he calls after her.

"Oi! No goodbye kiss then?"

Her hand pauses on the doorknob and she responds without turning to look back at him. "Probably not a good idea."

Once safely back in her own room, she swipes angrily at the tears she’s been fighting to hold back since she left Tom’s room.

They’d never established what their relationship was, the transition from friends to more than that had happened too suddenly for such a discussion to ever occur, but it hurt to know she was nothing more than an easy fuck to him. She’d known him all her life, so it wasn’t unreasonable for her to assume she meant something to him. But with a simple refusal of her offer to go to the dance together he’d proven she didn’t, perhaps she never had.

She wonders if it’s a case of him being ashamed to be seen with her, or that he simply doesn’t care for her enough to entertain her company outside of the bedroom. She isn’t sure which upsets her more, thinking about either causes a dull throb in her chest and a lump in her throat.

Pushing the thoughts away, she readies herself for her evening shift at The Oxnoble. The pub is surprisingly busy for a Wednesday evening when she arrives, but it’s been that way most evenings since the war ended, the mood is jubilant. She wishes she shared the sentiment. 

She deposits her coat and bag in the back room before moving between tables to collect the empties. After an hour or so of pulling pints and chatting to punters, she finds her spirits lifting. Work serves as a welcome distraction to thinking about Tom Bennett.

“Was wondering when you’d finally crack a smile.”

She looks up as she closes the till to see Joe Broughton leaning over the bar, his soft brown eyes focused on her.

“Sorry, my mind’s been elsewhere this evening.” She says apologetically. “What can I get you?”

He holds up his half finished lager. “I’m alright, actually. Just wanted to say hello. You going to the Wharf on Saturday?”

The smile fades from her face. “No, giving that a miss.”

Joe frowns. “Why? Ted won’t let you have the night off?”

She shakes her head. “No one to go with.”

“Go with me!” He says a little too enthusiastically, his face flushing with embarrassment when he realises how eager he sounds. “I mean…if you want to, that is. Seems a shame for a pretty girl like you to miss out.”

She’s not surprised by Joe’s offer. She has always suspected he’s sweet on her, but until now has been too wrapped up in Tom to pay any mind to him. Tom’s no longer in the picture though. Joe’s kind hearted, tall, dark and handsome, and clearly has no qualms about them being seen together. He is everything Tom’s not. She'd be foolish to turn him down, so she doesn’t.

“I’d love to.” She tells him.

Joe beams with happiness, draining his glass and sliding the empty across to her. “See you on Saturday then.” He grins. “Pick you up at seven?”

She nods, collecting his glass and returning his wave as he pushes through the crowd and out through the pub door.

When she gets home that night her mum is already asleep, and her dad’s at the factory working the late shift. Automatically, her hand moves to the lamp to switch it on and she has to stop herself. She deflates when she realises what she’s about to do, sinking heavily onto the edge of the bed. There’d be no more secret signals for Tom to climb in through the window, not anymore.

The next few days pass quietly, though she has to make a conscious effort not to think of Tom. She does her best not to look through the window to watch for when Lois and Douglas leave. That would usually be when she’d slip across the road and knock at the front door, giggling as he opens it and leans against the doorframe with a smirk. His blue eyes would rake over her, before beckoning her inside. Not anymore. She doesn’t see Tom at all, and her lamp stays firmly off for the rest of the week too.

She stands in front of the full length mirror in the hallway on Saturday evening, taking in her appearance. She’s applied a layer of rouge to her lips, carefully curled her lashes and set her hair into a style that doesn’t disrupt the work of the rollers that she’s been wearing for most of the day. Her blush pink dress accentuates her curves, nipping in at the waist, with an a-line skirt that stops at her mid thigh. The red of her heels matches the colour of her lips.

As she smooths her hands over her outfit, she can’t help but wonder what Tom would make of it. She has to remind herself that it’s another man that will appreciate the effort she’s made for this evening, and not him. She hates the way her heart sinks at the thought.

Joe’s eyes widen when he takes in the sight of her as she opens the door to him. “You look…wow…you look fantastic.”

She grins, grabbing her coat and stepping out onto the street beside him. “You don’t scrub up too badly yourself.” She says appreciatively, noticing his slicked back hair and starched shirt collar. 

The dance hall at the Wharf is packed by the time they arrive. Red, white and blue bunting hangs from the ceiling and a live band is in the middle of a Glenn Miller cover, with most people already paired off and dancing. Joe gets them both a drink, before leading her out to the centre of the floor.

As Joe spins and twirls her she can’t help but think about how wrong it all feels. The sensation of her hand in his, his palm at the dip of her waist, it’s so different to the way Tom touches her. Her skin doesn’t tingle in the wake of Joe’s fingertips brushing against it, her heart doesn’t flutter when she looks into his eyes. When he pulls her close his scent is unfamiliar, not the heady mixture of tobacco and spearmint that she’s come to know, to love.

Her breath hitches when she looks over and sees Tom through the crowd. The intensity of his stare is palpable even in the dimly lit hall, and fixed upon her and Joe. She doesn’t miss the way his jaw ticks as he looks at them. He’s made no effort, wearing the same jumper and slacks he always has on, yet still managing to look effortlessly handsome. It irritates her. She wonders who he’s here with and has to force herself to look away, not wanting to know, grimacing at the jealousy that blooms hot and acrid within her.

Focusing her attention back on the man she’s here with, she gazes up at him as the band switches to an instrumental cover of a Vera Lynn song. The atmosphere shifts considerably as the couples around them begin to slow dance.

Panic races through her, her mouth running dry and her heart thundering wildly as Joe starts to lean in. For a moment she is tempted to give in, a bid to forget about Tom once and for all, but at the last moment she decides she can’t. She doesn’t want to. She turns her head and Joe’s lips graze her cheek instead. As her eyes flicker upwards she notices that Tom has gone.

“Joe…do you think you could take me home? I’m not feeling well.” She says, not missing the disappointment that washes over his features.

The walk home is awkwardly silent and she’d feel bad for giving Joe false hope were it not for the fact that she can’t stop thinking about Tom, who he’s with and what he’s doing.

Her curiosity is sated when they reach her front door and she sees Tom burst out of his, moving across the road towards them with purpose.

It happens too quickly for her to comprehend fully, as Tom’s fist makes brutal impact with Joe’s face, knocking him backwards. “You kissed her! You fucking kissed her!” He shouts at him, and she feels fury well up inside of her.

Stepping between them, she shoves Tom away. “Stop it!”

“Why?!” He spits back angrily. “You shagging him too?!”

Her eyes well up as Tom’s words bite into her. She spares a glance at Joe, before speaking to him. “Would you mind leaving us, please? I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”

“Don’t bother.” He says stiffly, glaring at the pair of them before stalking off back down the street.

When she looks back at Tom, he appears sheepish, almost regretful, but she can’t find it in herself to forgive him. “I shouldn’t have said that. I was out of order…”

“No, you shouldn’t have!” She shouts back, her tears finally spilling over and rolling down her cheeks. “You had no right to do that. I’m not yours, I never was!”

His face softens, hurt flashing in his blue eyes, as he tries to speak. “Listen-”

“No, you listen!” She seethes tearfully. “Do you have any idea how much it hurts to be in love with someone that’s ashamed of you?! I can’t keep wasting my life, hoping one day I’ll be more than just a means for you to get your leg over. I don’t want to see you anymore, Tom. Leave me alone.”

She leaves him standing in the street as she goes inside, slamming the door behind her. She’s grateful that her parents aren’t home yet, otherwise she’d have copped an earful for the scene she’s just made in the middle of the road. Crying herself to sleep that night she curses her luck that she has to live opposite the man that’s broken her heart.

Her shift the next evening at The Oxnoble is quiet, most people have clearly opted for a night in after the dance the previous day. She’s grateful for it, feeling the furthest thing from being in the mood to smile at customers while she serves them drinks. She’s the only person behind the bar. The landlord, Ted, has taken advantage of the opportunity for a night off and left her with the keys, asking her to lock up come closing time. Save for a couple of older gentlemen nursing pints of bitter in the corner, the pub is empty.

She’s switching out the optic on a gin bottle when she hears the door swing open. Looking over her shoulder, she sighs, her mood instantly darkening when she sees Tom stroll in.

Propping himself on the bar, he eyes her nervously as she finishes what she’s doing and walks over to him.

“What d’you want?” She asks moodily.

“Need to speak to ya.” Comes his quiet response, long fingers flexing against the wooden surface.

“I’m working.”

“Can’t take a break?”

“Ted’s left me in charge. If you’re not here to drink then you need to leave.”

“Alright then.” He says with a shrug. “Pint of Guinness, please.”

She narrows her eyes in annoyance. “Tom, you don’t like Guinness, and it takes bloody ages to pour!”

“I know. Figured you’d spare me a few words while I wait.”

She rolls her eyes, taking a pint glass from the shelf above her head and placing it beneath the pump.

“Went to see Joe today, wanted to apologise and that, ya know, for smacking him…”

She looks up from the dark liquid that’s currently filling the glass. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, he’s got a right shiner.” He says with a grin. It disappears as quickly as it appears when he sees the angry look on her face. “Anyway, he told me nothing happened between you two. I know you said you never wanted to speak to me again, but I was hoping you’d hear me out, just this once?”

She purses her lips, topping off his pint as it settles and passing it to him. “Told you, I’m working.”

“I can wait.” He says, sliding coins across the bar to her and taking the glass.

She has to bite back a laugh as she watches him take a sip and wrinkle his nose. “Tastes like blood.” He mutters to himself, wandering off and taking a seat at a table directly opposite the bar.

Tom has never been a man of patience and she fully expects him to get bored after an hour and leave. She’s surprised when he continues to sit there, periodically lighting up cigarettes and wincing at every sip of the stout he’s nursing.

Three hours later she rings the bell for last orders and the few customers that had occupied the pub slowly shuffle their way out, leaving her and Tom alone. He’s only half way through his drink, having spent the entire evening pulling a face at every tiny mouthful.

She takes pity on him, bolting the doors and then leaning against the billiards table. “Go on then, I’m listening.”

He rises from his seat, walking slowly towards her, almost like he’s afraid that if he moves too quickly she’ll change her mind.

“Did you mean what you said? You’re in love with me?”

She feels heat rush to her cheeks and looks away. “Doesn’t matter now, does it? You don’t feel the same way.”

“Are you fucking joking?” He says, a tinge of irritation in his tone. “Would I have just sat for four hours choking down a pint of that shit, waiting for you to give me the time of day, if I wasn’t crazy about you? Give your head a wobble!”

She attempts to swallow around the lump that’s forming in her throat, her voice strained as she speaks. “We only meet up in secret and when I asked about the dance you said no. It feels like-”

“I’m ashamed of you?” He stands in front of her, brushing her hair away from her face. “Never. You mean everything to me. Thinking about coming home to you was all that got me through when I was laying in that hospital bed in Paris. Couldn’t bear the thought of you not knowing that you’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Then why?” Her voice cracks, her eyes are glassy as she stares up at him.

Tom draws in a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. “I’ve never been worthy of you, love. I might have come back from France a hero, but what about when all that dies down and I go back to just being Tom Bennett, the lad that’s always in trouble with the coppers? What will people say about you, if they know I’m your fella? You don’t deserve that.”

“Shouldn’t that be for me to decide?”

“I know that now.” He says, leaning his forehead against hers “Last night, I knocked to ask you to go to the dance with me and when no one answered I figured you’d already be there. Wasn’t expecting to see you there with Joe and it pissed me off. I know that’s selfish, but you’re mine.”

He presses his lips to hers and she melts into it, her resolve crumbling with embarrassing rapidity as her mouth moves with his. Her fingers work their way into the softness of his dirty blonde hair as his tongue slips into her mouth, working against her own as his large hands cup her face.

“Mine.” He whispers as he pulls away, making her gasp as he presses hot, open mouthed kisses to her neck. “Does Joe make you feel this good?” He asks, working open the buttons of her blouse, slipping a hand inside to squeeze at her through her brassiere.

“No.” She whines. “Just you, Tommy, just you.”

“That’s what I thought.” He smirks, lifting her by the backs of legs to sit on the billiards table.

He captures her lips in another searing kiss, pushing her skirt up to her hips.

“N-not here, we can’t.” She whimpers, pulling back.

“Door’s locked, isn’t it?” He coos at her, pulling the gusset of her underwear to the side. “Christ, you’re soaking. Is all this for me?”

She bites her lip, feeling dizzy with arousal. “Yeah, just you.”

“You gonna let me have a taste?” His eyes lock with hers, the blue barely visible with how dilated his pupils are.

Before she has a chance to respond, he’s dropped to his knees in front of her, licking a wide stripe against her folds with the flat of his tongue.

She emits a strangled cry, her hands flying to the back of his head as he groans against her, the vibration of it causing her to clench around nothing.

“Sweetest little pussy I’ve ever had.” He whispers between kitten licks to her bud.

She bucks her hips against his face as he feasts upon her like a man starved, the cadence of her moans growing unsteady as a familiar tightness coils within her lower belly.

“You close, darlin’?” He smirks up at her.

She’s only able to respond with a nod of her head, too far gone to trust herself to speak.

“That’s too bad.” He says, pulling away. “Wanna be buried inside of ya when that happens.”

She feels like she could cry at the loss, and her fingers fumble in their hurry to get Tom’s belt and trousers open, as he works to open the wrapper of a sheath that he’s fished out of his pocket.

Tom’s jaw goes slack, his eyes screwing shut as he pushes inside of her and she swears he’s never looked more beautiful than he does right now. He stills against her once he’s bottomed out, composing himself.

“So fuckin’ tight. Whose are you?” He rasps against the shell of her ear.

“Yours.” She breathes, without hesitation.

“That’s fuckin’ right.” He snarls, grasping her hips and setting a punishing pace.

She leans back, bracing herself against the table with the palms of her hands. The green felt is coarse against her skin, and she knows she’ll have friction burn from it, but she can’t find it in herself to care.

The hold he has on her is iron clad, pulling her flush against him with every jerk of his pelvis, his face buried in the crook of her neck as his belt buckle knocks against the wood with every thrust. This forceful, commanding side of him is one she’s never seen before, but she loves every second.

The slap of Tom’s skin against hers echoes through the empty pub, his grunts of exertion mingling with her breathy moans. His hand leaves her hip to palm at her breast and she can tell he’s nearing his end when as he pace begins to falter, his jaw clenching.

“Play with yourself.” He grits out. “Need you to finish with me.”

Doing as she’s told, she places her hand between her legs, circling her pearl. The added sensation serves to intensify Tom’s movements inside of her and after a few hurried strokes she finds herself tensing around him as her climax builds.

“Oh, fuck, Tommy, I’m gonna-”

Her sentence is cut off as her peak crashes over her in white hot waves of intensity, barely registering it as Tom lets go with a groan, spilling inside of the condom.

They stay like that for a few moments, leaning heavily against each other. When he eventually pulls out, and they begin to redress, there’s a part of her that worries that this is the part where he’ll make an excuse and leave, and it’ll go back to how it’s always been.

He surprises her when he begins to move around the pub, collecting up the empty glasses.

“What else needs doing before I walk you home?” He asks.

She can’t help the warm smile that spreads across her face at the gesture. “Just the ash trays.” Comes her response.

His fingers interlock with hers as they walk home in comfortable silence, the darkness lit by the cherry red ember of the end of Tom’s cigarette.

“Leave the lamp on for you tomorrow?” She says softly, once they reach her front door.

“No.” He shakes his head. “Tomorrow I’m knocking the door and taking you on a proper date.”

She grins. “Oh really?”

“Oh yeah. Bag of chips and a bottle of pop, only the best for my girl.” He says with a wink, beginning to head off across the street.

“Oi!” She calls after him. “No kiss goodbye then?”

He chuckles, hurrying back to her and spinning her around in his arms as he kisses her, before setting her back down.

“I love you.” She whispers.

“And I love you, always have.” He tells her, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

#tom bennett #world on fire #tom bennett x reader #tom bennett smut #tom bennett angst #world on fire angst #world on fire smut #tom bennett fan fiction #tom bennett fanfiction #tom bennett fan fic #tom bennett fanfic #world on fire fan fiction #world on fire fanfiction #world on fire fan fic #world on fire fanfic #ewan mitchell

[peotego]

Unconditionally | James Potter

Pairing: James Potter x fem!Black!reader

Summary: Three times when you realised you are in love with your brother’s best friend and one time when it all suddenly made sense.

Warnings: some swear words, my English? (since it’s not my first language)

Words: 4k

Masterlist

James' POV

*~*~*

Whenever I tried to think back to the time when it all started, I couldn’t exactly pinpoint the moment when I realised I loved James Potter.

He was my brother’s best friend, for Merlin’s sake!

I remember I hated him when we first met. Maybe it was because he was a Potter and my father told us to never befriend a Potter? I was, after all, a daddy’s girl at that time. Sirius loved the idea of going against our father’s orders but me? Not really. I was a good girl.

I stopped being the favourite child of the Black family when I was sorted to Gryffindor alongside my twin brother. It caused a lot of arguing back at home. Sirius was proud to be a Gryffindor. Me? Not so much. Imagine being the favourite child spoiled with compliments only to become a black sheep. I couldn’t bear it. But maybe it was good because it helped me to bond with my brother more? I was even more furious when Regulus was sorted to Slytherin the year after that and took my rightful place on the pedestal. Finally, I understood how my brothers have always felt.

At that time Sirius was a great friend. He helped me get through all the bad feelings I had about myself for something that wasn’t really my fault. Finally, I was okay with all that had happened.

But back to James Potter. The thorn in my side.

Everybody knew he loved Lily Evans, he wasn’t very discreet about his big, awful crush on her. The whole bloody Hogwarts knew about his infatuation with the redhead girl. I used to tease him about it alongside Sirius, Remus, and Peter.

Maybe it was in our 6th year? When I realised?

We were all sitting in Potions classes when Slughorn decided we should work in pairs. I turned to Lily because we usually partnered up.

“Oh, no, no, no,” said Slughron with a big smile on his face “We should mix things up a bit. I’m going to assign your partners”

All of the students present growled at his revelation. I feared I would end up with some Slytherin bloke. However, Slughorn had other plans.

And in that way, Sirius ended up working with Peter (a disaster indeed), Remus was assigned to some Slytherin girl (poor Remus), Lily with Severus Snape (well, they were still friends at that point), Dorcas with a shy girl from Gryffindor, I believed her name was Lucy (Lucy was good at Potions so Dorcas won a partners lottery), Marlene and Mary together (they worked good together), and that left me with James Potter.

I smiled at him but inside I was screaming. Everybody knew Potter was good at every single class but he rarely paid attention to the instructions. I knew I would end up doing all the work myself and constantly reminding him to focus. What I didn’t anticipate was that we would be working on an Amortentia potion. Slughorn first called us to see what the potion should look like and, of course, he asked us what we could smell.

When I tried to concentrate, I recognised the smell of old books, my favourite candy from Honeydukes, Andromeda’s famous pumpkin pie, and something I couldn’t quite recognise.

That’s when the revelation came and I was hit in the face with the smell of James’ cologne. I thought he was standing too close to me but when I looked around he was actually close to Lily Evans bothering her.

The whole class was a nightmare only because I now knew that somehow James Potter’s smell was in MY Amortentia potion. His constant questions about what I could smell didn’t help either. He was too curious for his own good.

“Just drop it, Potter”

“You probably smelled a wet rat”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night”

“I couldn’t sleep if I knew you fancied Wormtail”

“Stop, Potter, or I’m going to hex you”

“Always a charmer, Black”

He tried to touch my shoulder but I was still too scared from the moments before when I smelled him in the potion so I shuffled a little so as not to be touched by the boy. James looked confused and his smile dropped a little but I paid no attention to it, too preoccupied with my own conflicting thoughts.

When the class ended, I quickly packed my bags and left the classroom.

We never talked about it again.

*~*~*

Maybe it was at a party after Gryffindor won with Slytherin? We were all having a blast till the very end. I danced with my friends, drank a lot, and flirted with some boys who tried to get my attention. It wasn’t until our little group of friends were the only ones that stayed in the common room. Marlene had a genius plan to play Spin the Bottle. You had to kiss the person it landed on.

“I’m not going to kiss my sister, McKinnon,” said Sirius. I pretended to vomit at the mere thought of it.

“He’s right, Marlene, what are we supposed to do if it lands on one of us? I know Blacks have a tradition of marrying within the family but I really do not wish to continue this madness”

“Okay, if you don’t want to kiss someone, you need to answer a question truthfully and drink”

We all agreed to that.

Now I see it was stupid.

Remus spun the bottle first and it landed on Peter.

“Truth, please,” said Lupin and we all laughed.

“Okay, Remus, who was your first real kiss?” asked Mary. Remus looked uncomfortable, and so did I because I knew the truth.

“Um, I don’t know if she wants her identity to be revealed” Remus tried to dodge the question.

“Shut up, Moony, you agreed to play the game!” Sirius gave him a shot of firewhiskey which he needed to drink after answering the question.

“Okay” Remus sighed “It was (Y/N)”

“You kissed my sister?!”

“You wanted me to tell the truth!”

“I think I made myself very clear when I said that my sister is off-limits for you idiots!”

“Well, brother, that’s why the kiss was so good” I tried defending Remus but probably made it worse “Because it was forbidden” I winked at Remus who quickly emptied his glass and blushed like crazy.

“This conversation isn’t over” Sirius pointed at his friend “Are you going to tell me you snogged Prongs and Wormtail too?” he asked me.

“You’ll never know, brother”

Peter spinned the bottle next and it landed on Mary. It was a quick kiss.

Mary needed then to kiss Marlene.

Marlene kissed my brother who then kissed Lily.

Lily spun the bottle and I saw that James wanted really badly for it to land on him. His dreams were crushed when it stopped at Dorcas.

Then Dorcas kissed Remus.

But when Remus spun again it landed on me.

“Come here, Remus, for old times’ sake”

Sirius screamed something I couldn’t understand. The kiss with Remus was sweet and quick, just like I remembered our first one. I smiled reassuringly at him after but I knew my brother would talk his ears off later on.

I took the bottle and spun it. I prayed it wouldn’t land on Sirius.

Well.

The bottle landed on James Potter instead.

“Two out of three. Better get ready Peter” I said with a smirk but inside I was actually stressed. I still remembered his smell in amortentia.

James slowly made his way to me never once breaking the eye contact. He sat in front of me, staring intensely. He put his hand on my cheek when his lips met mine. I shut my eyes closed and kissed him back. His lips were soft and, Merlin, he knew what he was doing when he pushed his tongue inside my mouth. I grasped his shirt bringing him closer to me and biting on his lower lip. He moaned a little trying to kiss me even harder but he had too much strength and it ended up with us falling to the ground, James on top of me.

“That’s enough, Prongs, it’s my sister” Sirius helped James get up and then gave me a hand.

I don’t remember much from that party after that.

My mind was still fixated on that little moan.

James Potter’s kiss made my legs weak.

It was mind-blowing.

*~*~*

The party was long forgotten when next day James declared his undying love for Lily Evans to the whole school during breakfast. I tried to squish my little crush when I still had the chance to move on.

At the end of our 6th year, I knew I was fucked. I noticed every single little thing about James Potter. I liked the way those little wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes when he was laughing. I loved his jokes. I adored how much he cared for his friends and family, how he could do absolutely everything in his power to cheer Remus up after a full moon, how he got out of his way to tell Sirius and me that our family name didn’t define us as people, how he would defend Peter when Sirius was making fun of him.

I was even mad at Lily for not seeing how wonderful he was. I was furious when she was still rejecting him, making fun of him. He didn’t deserve that. He deserved to be loved unconditionally. He deserved someone who would fall madly, truly, deeply in love with him, who would know all his quirks and bad sides and even though still love him for who he was.

James Potter was loud and obnoxious and he did strut a little but he was also devoted to his friends, funny, caring, and good-hearted. And if Lily Evans didn’t see that, it was my personal mission to make James realise that he deserved better.

Sirius and I spent the summer at the Potters. My brother went there for almost every school break but it was maybe my third time there. I didn’t want to leave Reggie alone with our parents but turned out he was more than okay with their way of treating me. That was when I sent an owl to Sirius and he told me to pack my bags and go to the Potters.

We had a lot of fun together. We laughed, we played quidditch, we talked a lot, and I even helped them plan their next prank for the beginning of our last year at Hogwarts. Euphemia Potter was a sweet lady who welcomed me to her house with open arms. I helped her a lot around the house and talked to her about every little thing I couldn’t talk about with my mother. She was great, she made me realise that maybe I had a mother but I never had a mom.

Fleamont Potter was just like James but older. He made a lot of jokes, gave us candy when his wife wasn’t looking, he even asked me if I could marry his son once.

”You see, (Y/N), I believe you would be a great match for my son. I see how he looks at you, how his smile is wider whenever you are near. He talks about his mystery girl a lot but he could never tell us when we would be able to meet the love of his life, as he likes to call her. Now I see why. Sirius is always around and I’m not sure he would be okay with his best friend dating his sister”

”Oh, Mr Potter, I think you have it all wrong. I appreciate the vote of confidence but I am not James’ mystery girl. Her name is Lily and she’s my friend”

”We’ll see about that, (Y/N)”

During one evening Sirius went to bed earlier because he didn’t feel good and that left me and James alone in his backyard, lying on the grass and looking up at the night sky.

”Jamie, your father wants me to marry you”

”What?!”

”Yeah, crazy, right? He thinks I’m your mystery girl”

”Oh, and what did you tell him?”

”That it’s definitely not me. That I know the girl you have a crush on and he said that we’ll see”

”I have no idea why he said that I’m very sorry”

”No big deal, Potter”

After a moment of silence, I decided it was time to talk to James about Lily. I was nervous and a little scared that the conversation would ruin our friendship.

”James”

”(Y/N)”

”I’ve been thinking about you and Lily for a while”

”Oh?”

”Yeah” I took a deep breath before continuing,” I think she doesn’t deserve you”

”How so?”

”You see, Jamie, you’ve been trying to get the girl since we were thirteen years old and she’s still not even slightly interested in going on a date with you. She’s always laughing at you, turning you down. I don’t think that’s very good for you. I get that you’re in love with her but maybe you should start thinking about yourself a little bit?”

James was quiet for a moment.

”What do you mean?”

”You deserve the world, James Potter. You deserve a girl who will be madly in love with you. You deserve a girl who will love you unconditionally. You are a good guy. Sure, you have your faults. We all have them. But you should be loved the way you love other people - wholeheartedly. I don’t think Lily is the right girl for you. I’m also not saying you should do whatever I’m telling you right now. I just believe you should think about it a little bit and decide if it’s even worth it. Because you, James Potter, are definitely worth it and it’s her loss if she cannot see that”

”Wow, Black, do you have a crush on me or something?” He chuckled making my heart hurt a little bit.

”You’re also an idiot” I slapped his shoulder but laughed with him too. Despite my smile, my heart was breaking a little bit just because the thought of me having a crush on James only made him laugh. ”I’m your friend, I just hate to see you struggling so much”

”You are a good mate, (Y/N). Thank you for always looking out for me” James took my hand in his and interceded our fingers. He softly caressed my hand with his thumb.

”Always”

*~*~*

During our 7th year, everything changed. James Potter suddenly stopped being interested in Lily Evans anymore. And that was a big, juicy gossip at Hogwarts. How could it have happened that James Potter just stopped loving Lily Evans? Could he have another girl? Maybe he had a secret girlfriend?

There was a lot of gossip about his possible girlfriend going around the school. I was just glad that he finally realised that he was worth much more than what Lily was giving him all those years.

That was also when I noticed that he paid a lot more attention to me. He always sat next to me, he wanted to be partners in every class which made Sirius mad, he helped me with my homework, and he walked me to my classes even when it meant that he would be late to his. It was really weird but I wouldn’t dare to hope he suddenly had a crush on me. I wasn’t stupid.

Until that one fateful night in October when I helped the boys with the prank we planned together. A Ravenclaw prefect was patrolling the corridors. He spotted us near the kitchens and shouted something.

”Run!” Shouted Peter. We all started to run but we were a big group so it would be easy to eventually catch us.

”We need to scatter,” said Remus out of breath. Peter immediately turned the corner and turned into a rat. What a team player.

”(Y/N), here” James took my hand and made me run with him in the opposite direction from Remus and Sirius. He found an empty broom closet and quickly closed the doors behind us. There wasn’t a lot of space so we were very close, our noses were practically touching. James put his fingers on my lips so I was quiet. His other hand was still holding mine and squeezing it reassuringly. After a while, when we were sure the Ravenclaw boy wasn’t coming in this direction, James moved his hand to my waist.

He was staring at me very intensely.

”What?” I whispered to him ”Do I have something on my face? Why are you looking at me like that, Potter?”

”Remember what my dad told you? About my mystery girl?”

”Yeah?” I was confused. Why bringing it up now?

”He was right, you know? It never was Evans. I like her, sure, but as a friend”

”What? Then why were you running after her like a lost puppy all those years?”

”Remember when we first met?”

”Of course, I do, James. I hated you.” He chuckled at that.

”I thought you were a stuck-up rich girl but you proved me wrong, (Y/N). I had this big crush on you in our first year”

I looked at him as if he had three heads. What was he talking about? I put my hand on his forehead to check if he wasn’t sick. He rolled his eyes at me.

”I told Sirius about that. He was my best friend so I thought that he would give me some advice. What I didn’t anticipate though was that he would be overprotective of his sister. He screamed at me almost all night, he said that if I ever try to fancy you again he will personally beat the living shit out of me. I get him, you know? You are his precious little sister…”

”He’s only two minutes and three seconds older”

”…and he wants to protect you from all the bad guys out there even if his best friend is one of them. So I tried to never talk about that again. But Sirius knew. In our third year, he came up with a rule which he then proudly told us about. We are friends and friends don’t fancy each other's siblings. If we ever dare to break the rule, that means we were never friends in the first place. I was scared, you know? I didn’t want to lose both of you so I told him later that he has nothing to worry about because I don’t fancy you anymore, that there is another girl I have my eyes on. He asked me who it was and I panicked. Lily Evans was the first one to come to my mind because you two were always together. So as not to lose my best friend I tried to persuade him that I love Lily Evans”

”You were quite good at that”

”Shut up, Black, I’m not finished. Then you mentioned the conversation with my father and told me to look for someone who deserves me. Love, the problem is I never felt good enough for you but your words made me think. If not now then when? Am I supposed to watch you fall in love with some idiot? Am I supposed to stand in the crowd at your wedding even though I want to be the one waiting at the altar for you? Am I supposed to let the girl of my dreams slip through my fingers because I’m too scared of what my best friend will say about this? You said a lot of nice things about me that night so let me return the favor. You are incredibly smart and witty, (Y/N) Black. I love it when you get so preoccupied with your book that you’re not really paying attention to the world around you. You bite your lip a lot when you’re focused on the books you like. I adore the way you always come up with a sarcastic comment about everything stupid we say. I like to watch you cheer for me and your brother at quidditch matches. I love the way you care for your friends and family, even when some of them obviously don’t deserve that. You are stunning, (Y/N) Black, in and out and I am madly in love with you”

”Remember that one class last year when we were making amortentia? You asked me what I smelled and I didn’t want to tell you”

”I remember”

”That’s because I smelled you and it scared the living shit out of me”

”You smelled me?” James was surprised but he had a small smile on his face.

”Yes” I looked down because I knew I just blushed like crazy and was a little embarrassed about that ”Later on there was this big party after you guys crushed Slytherins at quidditch and Marlene suggested spin the bottle game”

”I really wished that damn bottle would point at me. I might have used a spell to be sure actually”

”You what?”

”That kiss was totally worth it. I still think about it”

”You used magic to kiss me? You’re a fool, James Potter” I laughed a little but couldn’t help myself and grinned happily. ”You didn’t have to do that”

”And why is that?” James smiled at me and let go of my hand. He cupped my cheek instead and waited patiently for my answer. That little bastard. I stared at his lips for longer than I would like to admit it. But, Merlin, how much I wanted to taste those soft lips again, to hear him moan in my mouth.

”Because,” I said getting closer to him. He still looked me in the eyes, our lips brushed when I said the next part ”I am madly in love with you too, James Potter”

He didn’t wait for another second. He pushed his lips against mine and kissed me hard. I put my arms around his neck trying to bring him closer to me. One of his hands wandered behind my back and under my shirt while the other tangled itself in my hair. I bit his lower lip again hoping that I would get the reaction I wanted.

And I did.

He moaned into my lips and put his tongue in my mouth. I remember that at one point we knocked a broom over but we didn’t care much about that.

I felt happy, over the moon happy. James made me feel all of the emotions at once: excitement, love, happiness. I felt as if I was made just for him and he for me. When our lips met it was like fireworks on New Year’s Eve, as cheesy as it sounds. But James Potter made me into one of those giggly girls who wouldn’t shut up about their boyfriends. And the worst part is, I didn’t mind.

When we finally broke apart to get some air, James was grinning like crazy and still holding me close to him. I wondered if he could feel the way my heart was beating so fast.

In that small broom closet, I felt like the luckiest girl in the entire world.

James suddenly became very serious and there was a wrinkle on his forehead as if he was worried about something. He hid his head on my shoulder and hugged me tightly.

”James?”

”Merlin, how am I going to tell that to Padfoot”

”That’s something we should worry about tomorrow”

”Can you kiss it better?”

”You’re not hurt?”

”But I will be tomorrow”

#james potter #james potter x reader #james x reader #james potter x you #james potter x y/n #james potter x female reader #james potter x fem!reader #james potter fluff #harry potter #marauders imagine #marauders #marauders x reader #hogwarts #aaron taylor johnson #james potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #hogwarts x reader #james potter imagine #marauders era #james fleamont potter #harry potter imagine #x reader #x reader fluff #x reader imagine #x reader insert

[keeksandgigz]

painkiller (part three of lessons in alchemy)

barista!eddie munson x fem!barista!reader AU

summary: After a rocky start, you and Eddie seem to be turning over a new leaf, but a small misunderstanding is sure to change that. You help set up the cafe for the Halloween party, which you end up going to after much begging by Colette, you try to make Eddie jealous and a healthy dose of liquid courage helps things get sentimental.

cw: 4k words, jealous!eddie, swearing, allusion to smut, reader being essentially a sensitive baby, some miscommunication, eddie being a softie for reader, no y/n, no physical description of reader, boys being silly, mention of throwing up/ retching, drinking (everyone is of age), it gets a little bit fluffy towards the end

read part 1 here, part 2 here

if you wanna be added to my taglist the form is here

"You guys fucked??" Colette's voice booms in the car.

"Jesus Christ, Colette, the whole freeway didn't need to know that. And no, we didn't fuck" you take the exit that brings you into Daisy Street, the one towards the cafe.

"Then what? Steve keeps talking about how you guys look at each other like you wanna run to the back and fuck like bunnies" she nudges at you and you roll your eyes.

"Remind me to ask Steve to drive you to work next time, since you guys are such good friends" you smile at her.

"Yeah, whatever, so what happened?" she nibbles at her bagel.

You take a deep breath in. There are no secrets between you and Colette. "Well, he... spanked me" you hear her gasp, without giving her time to start talking you keep going; "Then he took me to his office and fingered me, but he didn't let me um...finish because I wouldn't apologize to him. Then he drove me home" you say, all in one breath.

"You kinky bitch" she laughs, a hearty laugh. After she comes down from her fit, she continues, almost like a phantom hand slapped some sense into her. "But what an asshole! Because you wouldn't apologize to him? And he drove you home?"

"I swear he's so confusing. He wouldn't let me take the bus." You just got your car back after two days without it because of a leak. You pull up into the parking lot.

"Shit, he's outside" you whisper. He's sitting on the curb, cigarette in hand, scrolling through his phone. Something tells you he isn't there to make drinks today. His hair is down and he's wearing chunky rings in both hands. You’re lucky I didn’t have my rings on. With the way you’ve been running your mouth you would’ve more than deserved it.

As much of an asshole as he is, you've been replaying the night before on a loop for the whole morning. You swallow.

"Too late to turn back and make a run for it" Colette quips as you park the car as further as possible from him.

"So what, do I just go in like 'Hey fancy seeing you here, remember when your fingers were in me last night?' or do I just ignore him?" you groan as you open your car door, grabbing your bag and jacket.

"Maybe wait for him to speak to you? I dunno. He should apologize, that was fucked" Colette says, closing the car door.

You both walk towards the cafe's front door. Eddie catches your eye immediately. Fuck it, your shift wouldn't start until two- thirty.

"Col, I'll meet you inside. Thanksgiving menu is launching soon, Steve'll have your head if you don't walk in right this second" you joke, she just nudges your shoulder and winks at you, as she disappears inside the cafe.

"Y'know" Eddie speaks, taking a long drag out of his cigarette "you shouldn't gossip about me when I can hear you from around the corner. I take it she knows?" he exhales a cloud of smoke, making you take a ragged breath at the way the smoke falls from his lips.

"Maybe you shouldn't overhear my conversations. Ever thought about that? And so what if she knows? Steve probably knows too" you spit.

"I usually don't tell Steve about the girls I fuck. Last night wasn't even a fuck, really. I just showed you what was so incredibly obvious to the naked eye, sweetheart" he puts the cigarette to his lips again.

"Which is?" you don't have patience for the slow drawl of his voice, sounding like he's just woken up. The way his fingers wrap around the cigarette, his lips puckering up as he sucks into the filter. You shiver.

"That we wanna fuck each other. Don't tell me that you're not looking at me and not thinking about what I did to you last night" Gotcha. He smiles around the cigarette.

"You really do think too highly of yourself" you sit on the curb, keeping a distance between you two.

"I've been thinking about last night the whole morning" he blurts out, putting his cigarette out on the sole of his boots “It was good, but you were kind of a bitch about me not letting you cum. Maybe you should rethink about apologizing” he smirks towards you.

“Well, I don't think last night should have happened at all" you shrug, pretending like the way he's playing with his chain bracelet isn't affecting you. He turns towards you.

"Is that so?" he says, voice a bit lower, gravelly. You inhale, then nod. 

He takes out a stack of black papers from a folder in his messenger bag, you take the chance to change the subject.

"What's that?" you ask, trying to peek over the the wall of black posters.

"The posters for the Halloween party next week. My friend Nancy just designed and printed them out for me. I scheduled you on Friday to come in and help with decorating, I'll pay you extra, since it's not in your job description. I'll talk to Jim about it" it's a lie, he just wants to spend more time with you.

"Am I required to come to this thing?" you interject, taking one of the posters in your hands, it's very well designed.

"Well, no. But the staff is invited anyway and I'm gonna be at the bar making free drinks, once a year we turn our bad boy coffee bar into a, y'know bar bar" he says, a movement of his ringed hand follows it.

"Oh, so you're a bartender too? What concoction are you gonna brew for this party, Mr. Alchemist?" you ask, chin propped on your hands. A flirtatious lilt to the way you talk, you bat your eyelashes.

"Guess you gotta come to find out" he winks and stands up, opening the side door to his van.

"Where are you going?" you ask, squinting to look at his face, the sun in your eyes.

"These posters aren't gonna hang themselves around town, are they? I just came here to hang one on the bulletin board and one on the door. Wanna come?"

You're not sure how to feel. He's suddenly being nice to you? And you wanna say yes so badly for some reason, maybe because you're tired of fighting with him and he seems like an actually cool person to be around?

"My shift starts in five minutes" you say, standing up and dusting off your butt.

He shrugs his shoulders "Consider this your shift? You're still technically helping me with the cafe" his tone is bordering a whine, can this man be that desperate to want you to come with him?

You really are pondering your options, it doesn't feel normal that you'd want to go with him instead of a chill shift without Eddie Munson's hovering eyes.

"You coming or not? And the pun was intended" he chuckles to himself as you hit him in the arm.

"You're an asshole" Alright, fuck it.

"You win" you grumble, jumping on the passenger seat of his van. The same van you were in the night before, cursing the man because he had left you unsatisfied.

In the back of the van there are stacks of boxes full of prints. You reach for the black poster he was holding earlier.

"What's 'Corroded Coffin'?"

"The band I'm in" he says, a creeping smile on his lips. Nonchalant, like he hadn't dropped a heavy piece of Eddie lore.

"'Kay so, you're a barista, a bartender, a business owner and you're in a band?!" eyes wide in disbelief as a smug expression appears on the boy's lips.

"The four b's, baby" he laughs "Me, Jeff, Gareth and another dude have been in this band since high school, tried to strike out but uhhhh different plans I guess" his shoulders rise and fall in a shrug.

"Lemme guess, you're the drummer?" you ask, finding yourself oddly at ease as he drives the car around town.

He shakes his head, his ratty curls moving around his face "Lead guitar and singer" lips pulled taut in a thin smile, face scrunched up.

"Shut the fuck up, I hate you! That's why you're so fucking slappable" he laughs at your comment as he thrums his ringed fingers along with Love me like a Reptile on the steering wheel. You gulp.

"That's why you're so good with your fingers, then?" it escapes you before you can even register what your brain is computing, but he's turning on his indicators to pull over, because he's quite literally doubled over with laughter.

"Jesus I did a number on you, didn't I sweetheart?" he says in the midst of his fit, and you can feel yourself getting hot, embarrassed, like he's making fun of you.

You really thought that things between you two had smoothed over, but the way he's laughing at you has your cheeks growing in anger, the cockiness exuding from him doesn't spur you on or stoke whatever fire you're kindling, rather it makes you feel humiliated.

You grab your bag and coat, immediately opening the latch to the door of his van. Eddie stops laughing immediately.

"Wait, what are you doing?" he asks, head jerking towards you.

“If you’re gonna be an asshole about it, then you can hang your fucking posters by yourself. I’m going back to the store to do what I am actually paid for. Fuck you, Eddie” and he barely has time to reply before you slam the door of his van and you book it back towards the cafe.

The shift feels uneventful, until Colette and Steve take you to the kitchen to sample the menu for the party.

The boy fixes the glasses on his nose as he shows you strawberry brain jellies, spider falafels, mini spiderweb pizzas, and the sketch of a big Halloween cake.

“That was Steve’s idea, actually. It’s blueberry and cream cheese filling on one tier and then I think custard on the second one. You’re gonna die, Steve’s custard is actually to die for” and he blushes at that, a quick brush of his face as his eyes twinkle at the compliment.

Steve and Colette have been spending a lot of time together after all, you chuckle to yourself as you reach for the spoons with the cream filling samples. Colette was not wrong, that custard is an incredible explosion of lemon and milk and vanilla, you're astounded that Steve and Colette were able to pull this off in such a short time.

There isn't much you can tell them, as their culinary talent greatly exceeds yours, wondering why they didn't ask Eddie to do the tasting, who seemed nowhere to be found for the rest of your shift.

On Friday, he seems to be quite busy with various movers and decoration people to even pay attention to you as Jeff stands on a ladder with you yelling "higher!" every time he tries to hang a string of lights.

"Well, I'm a barista, not a fucking architect" he yells from atop of the ladder, as Gareth rolls out a bunch of boxes sitting in a cart.

"What's that?" you ask, still making Jeff mess with the purple string lights “to the right, man!”

You hear him groan.

"Our twelve- foot skeleton" he replies, taking the plastic parts out "good thing our ceilings are tall" he snickers as Jeff finishes setting up the lights and comes down.

"Why the fuck do you have a twelve- foot skeleton?" you lean against the ladder, watching him take the bone parts out of the boxes and setting up the first few bits.

"Eddie thought it would be hilarious if we got one our first year of doing these Halloween parties. We usually get the skeleton something stupid to wear, this year it's a giant clown nose" he laughs as you move the ladder towards him to help facilitate the building of this fucking monster of a decoration.

By the time night rolls, the coffee machines have been removed for the party and replaced with liquors, spirits, glasses and shakers.

Finally Eddie comes out of his office, hair mussed out of his messy bun, eyes puffy and tired as his eyes widen at the decorated party room around him. 

Red, orange and purple lights hang around the perimeter of the walls, along with orange tulle fabric and various decorations on the theme of bats, skeletons and pumpkins. The twelve- foot skeleton stood tall in that stupid clown nose, at which he laughed at. He shot you a pained look before leaning on the bar counter. 

“Wow you guys, you’ve really outdone yourselves this year” he mutters, taking a close look around at all the decorations. 

“It was the girls, really, they’ve just been bossing us around the whole day” Gareth responds “we’ve just been their lackeys” he laughs. 

“Regardless of that, I just wanted to thank you all for the splendid job, we should be expecting around 150 people in here tomorrow night, hope you guys are ready to party. Now get the fuck out of here” Eddie says as he motions for you and everyone else to leave as the guys protest “go get some rest, it’s literally midnight”

There’s a clamor of voices as you vacate the cafe, discussing costumes for the party, how fucked up everyone’s gonna get- Eddie being the last to leave and lock the door. 

Before heading to his van, though he surpasses you, walking to your car. 

“I trust you’ll be there tomorrow? You must be fun at parties, right?” he snickers, you roll your eyes. 

“Sorry, Ed, previous engagement I have to attend to. Devastated to be missing the party of the decade, I’ll send a postcard” you unabashedly lie, there’s no reason you should be going to that party.

You give him a sour smile and head towards your car, as he stands stunned in the middle of the parking lot.

Without much ceremonies, you and Colette get in the car. 

“Are you actually not going tomorrow?” your friend is outraged, a betrayed tone tinging her words. 

“I dunno, I really don’t wanna see Eddie’s stupid face, plus I don’t have a costume” you shrug, entering the freeway. 

You could do what you’ve always done since college- a sexy cat, make Eddie sizzle a bit, an unspoken revenge towards that unsatisfactory night where he refused to push you off the edge. 

You don’t know what this is, whatever game you both are playing, a never ending tug of war of power and stupid fucking remarks at the expense of one another- why can’t you just sleep with him and get it over with? 

“I’ll get you a fucking costume, babe! Just please come, Steve is being really weird to me and trying to ask me out, I’ll buy you lunch, dinner- anything” she begs, and you don’t see why Steve asking her out should be an issue, he’s handsome and the way he looks at her and the way she talks about him seems to be special, something you’ve never had in a person. 

“Colette, I honestly do not see the problem in Steve trying to ask you out. You like him!” you bang your hands on the steering wheel in frustration, why can’t anything ever be easy?

“I like him in the sense that I want to fuck him, not go out with him. Besides, Gin isn’t going and Chrissy has a midterm Monday so she’s gonna have to dip early. Do you really wanna leave me in the middle of a pool of nerdy men?” she’s whining and pleading with you, it almost makes you fold. Almost. 

“C’mon, I wouldn’t dream of doing that to you” she bats her big eyes, and she’s right, she wouldn’t do that to you because she knows that men put you off, being surrounded by them even so. 

“Alright, fine, and you don’t have to get me a costume. Sexy cat is the way to go” you grin at her as she gets out of the car blowing you a kiss. 

“I love love love you, I’ll see you tomorrow” Colette runs inside after that. 

You can’t say no to her. 

And that’s why you find yourself in the midst of countless amounts of people, a third martini and a couple shots in and Colette is nowhere to be found. 

Eddie, on the other hand, is at the bar. Tight, black, form fitting shirt, his face looking pale and pasty as a rivulet of what looked like fake blood dripped out of his mouth. You could only see it when he smiled, but he had glued fake fangs on his incisors- a vampire, how original. 

You approach him at the bar, mind already loosened and buzzed, as he’s pouring a drink out. 

“Was expecting something more original than a vampire from you” you scream over the music. A smile creeps on his lips, and you have to admit, the fangs are really doing it for you. 

“I was expecting nothing less from you, though.Thought you weren’t coming?” he leans against the bar counter, his arms flexing from the exertion of shaking drinks for the past hour and a half. You stare, and he’s sure you are.

“Didn’t wanna come, Colette begged me to save her from Steve asking her out, so now I’m here” you take one last swig out of your martini glass “that’s really good, actually, can I have another one?”

Eddie shakes his head “Steve’s asking Colette out? When was this?”

You shrug “apparently it’s been going on for a while. Honestly, I don’t know how she does it, I would not be able to resist Steve’s cute little puppy eyes” and here it is. The drunken ramble. 

“Honestly I don’t know how you all do it, I’d be ogling at Steve and not getting any work done, actually. Have you seen his arms?” you giggle, maybe at an attempt to make Eddie jealous, maybe because those were your actual thoughts. 

Either way, that made Eddie’s stomach turn in a way that he wasn’t liking. How you were staring at Steve, in his Marty McFly costume, the tight pants and the coiffed hair- biting your lip like you weren’t talking about his best friend.

He chalked it up to drunkenness, the intoxication vivid on your blushy cheeks, as jealousy bubbled in the back of his mind, a small version of himself in his head wishing you’d talk about him like that. 

“Yeah, I’m not making you any more martinis” he says, a dry chuckle escaping him. 

“Boo, first you don’t make me cum and then you take the martinis away from me? You’re an absolute bore, Eddie Munson” and you fake yawn with that, a silly laugh follows it. 

“Sweetheart, you might not want to talk about that in a room full of people” he leans against the counter, and his fangs are looking really good in the glistening purple party lights.

“Are you suggesting we go somewhere private to talk about it?” you wiggle your eyebrows, which makes Eddie’s eyes roll. 

Taking care of your drunk self for the rest of the night is the last thing he wants to do. 

“No, I’m suggesting you go home. You’re drunk” he yells, shaking another drink and pouring it into a cup.

“I’m actually fine, thank you. I’m gonna go talk to Steve” pettily you stand up, turning away from him and booking it towards Steve, who is trying to talk to Colette. 

You don’t make it far, though as you go back to the bar wobbling, stomach churning with bile threatening to leave your mouth. 

“Eddie, I don’t feel so good” and he damns himself for how fast he comes around the bar to drag you to the employee bathroom. 

You’re kneeled on the black tile, dress hiking up your thighs as Eddie holds your hair as you fight for your life bent over the toilet. 

Eddie’s hand is running up and down your spine, the thin shirt making you feel every ridge and callus, as he feels your back flex and relax with every retch.

“It’s okay, let it out” he says, every time you tense up. You’re sobbing in between. 

Cries of “I’m sorry, Eddie” and “It’s okay, I got it, you can go” echo in the tiled room, but he stays. His hand firmly planted on your back, caressing, a stoic expression on his face when you emerge, finally done and a bit more clear- headed. 

“You good to stand up?” he asks, you nod meekly as he hooks his arms around yours, holding you up to walk to the sink. He opens the cabinet and takes out a little bottle of mouthwash, still holding an arm around you to help you stand. 

“Wash your mouth, then take some of this” you watch him bewildered as he opens the faucet, and you lean over the sink, the fresh water is a relief against the acidity your taste buds have had to endure, not caring that it would wipe some of your makeup off. 

“‘M sorry, Eddie” you mumble in a whine, between gurgling the tap water and spitting it out. 

“It’s okay, I’ll drive you home after this” he says, as he turns off the faucet and feeds you the blue liquid, watching you rinse and gargle it, spitting it out. 

“I’m okay now” you sigh, defeat in your voice as you escape from his grasp to sit down on the tiled floor. 

Concern tinges his face as he runs to sit next to you “Do you have to throw up again?” you shake your head. 

He looks at you, eyes glossy and a bit teary, your nose and cheeks reddened from the alcohol, or from the exertion of throwing up, your lips swollen. God, he really wants to kiss you. 

“Thank you, Eddie” it’s a whisper, ashamed as you look at him. Fangs and all, with the bright white fluorescents hitting him, hair mussed up and sweaty and a look in his eyes that makes you soften a bit. 

“Yeah, it’s- uh- no problem” he mumbles, he sees you shiver. He wants to put an arm around you, give you his jacket that he left in his office, but he wouldn’t dare leave you for fear of you leaving him and not coming back. 

So you just hold yourself flush against him, he’s still warm from the crowded room of bodies and smells like a smoky cologne, leathery with a hint of coffee. The fluorescent lights buzz and it’s the only sound in the bathroom and he tries to fight the urge to not put an arm around you, but when he does, you look at him. Big brown eyes staring into yours, bewildered and a little relieved, you haven’t run away yet. 

The makeup around your eyes is a bit smudged from the sobbing, stray glitter under your bottom eyelashes, he silently puts his thumb on it, getting black make-up and glitter all over his finger as his hand rests on your cheek. You blink. 

The breath in his chest is trapped, waiting with bated breath for you to come to your senses, leave him angry on the bathroom floor, like you did a few days before. 

Instead you stay, as you move in and kiss him.

taglist: @reidsbtch, @vintagehellfire, @fckyeahlames, @lavendermunson, @sunnythefriendlyghost, @onegirlmanytales, @aphrogeneias, @cryingglightningg, @munsonsuccubus, @strangereads, @gothvamp1973, @boomitsallie1, @thottywizard, @ali-r3n, @reysorigins, @yunirgo, @stqrgirl3, @neville-is-my-husband, @keikoraven, @minorlystuck13, @seexyyprincess, @sunnythespookyghost, @capricornrisingsstuff, @mandyjo8719, @xxhellfirebunnyxx, @hellfirenacht, @str4ngergirlw0rld, @strangerstilinski,

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #stranger things #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #barista!eddie munson #barista!eddie munson x barista!reader #stranger things au #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson au #eddie munson series

[that-sarcastic-writer]

Twisted Love

Billy Russo X Latina!Mercenary!Reader

Summary: based on this moodboard murder date with Billy made by the love of my life @fluffyprettykitty thank you for the inspo

Warnings: explicit sexual content, minors yall better dnfi, unprotected sex, p in v, creampie, fingering, blood kink, choking, hair pulling, degradation, he calls her a whore and she likes it, allusion to gunplay & knife play, Billy and reader get turned on by questionable acts, def dark themes, dark!Billy, dead bodies, actual murder, many acts of violence, and Billy canonically likes it rough and painful, they're both just unhinged

Reader is referred to as she/her, speaks Spanish here and there and is described to have long hair. If this is not you, that is okay. This is solely based on the moodboard. I use no further specifications so you can enjoy it regardless :)

WC: 4k

A/N: I'm sorry in advance for the person that I am, I blame selene for encouraging this. You have been warned, you read under your own responsibility. I missed Billy and his murderous questionable kinks, so here we are. (If you actually enjoy this you I guarantee we will see each other in hell)

"Billy." You groaned quietly, the voice in your earpiece shutting up at the sharpness of your voice. 

"Yes darlin'?" 

"I can't focus on shooting your target if you keep saying how you're going to fuck me stupid tonight. Or how you've been really wanting to fuck me with your gun." You said the last part through your teeth as you did your best to remain professional and stay focused. You were a mercenary, sure, but you were a professional one. 

"If you keep talkin' back, I will do so much more than that. You like knives, don't you?" You could hear the smug smirk he probably had on his face through his voice, even through your earpiece.

You couldn't help but groan, your skin growing burning hot under all of your gear, and it was getting hard to control your breathing the longer he kept spitting filthy words at you. 

"This is your op, Billy. So we can either have phone sex or I can shoot your target. Can't do both." You rolled your eyes, adjusting your grip on your handgun as you tried to ignore the heat between your legs. You heard him chuckle. 

"You're gettin' paid either way darlin'," he reminded you. "But if you get a headshot, I'll give you your bonus." 

You actually laughed at this, a smirk of your own falling on your lips, "You know I never miss. Don't gotta double tap if I shoot 'em in the head." 

This was like a little game of yours. Any time Billy called you— for anything other than a good fuck— it was for a target mission off the books. Legally, he was just a private contractor. Private security was his main gig. But off the books, he was still getting paid to take out targets for his old military superiors. When someone pushed at his buttons too much, he called you. Because you were like a ghost, in and out, no one even knew you were ever there. And he thought your post-op adrenaline made for killer sex. You getting paid was just a courtesy on his end. You had honestly stopped caring about the money a long time ago. But he paid you your part anyway. So it was a win-win situation for everyone involved. 

"Mhmm,  I love it when you talk dirty." He sighed a long breath and you smiled to yourself, holding your gun close to your chest as you quietly walked through the dark, otherwise empty house. You could hear movement and indistinct voices on the other side of the wall

"I hear voices in the next room. Two targets so far. Standby for confirmation." Billy laughed at how official you sounded. You truly never did get rid of that military part of you. 

You peeked your head through the crack on the door of a large study. You chewed on your bottom lip as you tried to identify the targets. One was the man Billy had hired you to kill, a Marine Colonel that had gotten too greedy and was making threats. That didn't exactly sit well with Billy or anyone else involved. The other man, though, you weren't sure, but he also seemed to be military. 

"I'm looking at your target. But I'm not sure who the other one is. Looks military, though. What do you want me to do?" You whispered the question to Billy. He stayed silent for a few seconds. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, growing inpatient at his silence. But he spoke before you could yell at him. 

He groaned first, clearly something hadn't gone according to plan. "Just take both of them out. I don't need witnesses." 

"Whatever you say, pretty boy." You took in a deep breath, your heart starting to race as the adrenaline started to pump in your blood. 

"Remember, I want you in and out, don't worry about nobody else. That's what I'm here for, baby." 

"You're such a romantic, mi cielo." You bit your lip, you heard him chuckle in response. 

You waited another second, long enough for them to be close enough for you to take them out both at the same time before the other could draw their gun. Stealth was your specialty anyway. You were thankful the large doors didn't creak when you opened them further. Both men were facing away from you. Good. You took a step inside the study, and with a grin, you pulled the trigger. 

One. 

Two. 

Both men dropped to the ground with a thud. You sighed out the breath you had been holding and you slowly approached the two bodies. And you smiled at your work. 

Headshots. 

"I'm done here. Getting out now." You said to Billy. You heard him give you a quick hum of confirmation. 

You nodded to yourself, picking up your shell casings before you hurried out of the study. You went around through long halls for what seemed to be an eternity, until you came to the hall that led to the foyer of the house. 

Almost there. 

"Don't you fucking move." A voice rasped beside you. You saw out of the corner of your eye the barrel of a handgun. Well so much for Billy taking care of everything. 

You closed your eyes, slowly raising your hands to show your handgun. You turned your head enough to look at the man. More military. Great. This was going to be shit show. 

"Who the fuck are you? Why are you here?" The man screamed at you, his gun still on your face. You said nothing, you simply stared at him. He couldn't really see your face, not through your balaclava. Only your eyes were visible. "Give me that fucking gun and get on the ground. Now!" 

You stared at him, not moving a muscle. The only man you would ever get on your knees for was Billy. This one could shoot you for all you cared. 

"I said get on your knees or I'll shoot!' 

"Shoot me then." You said dryly, hands still in the air. 

Just get a bit closer, you thought. 

The man seethed at your response and stepped closer. Your lips irked up. You turned your body, your free hand gripping his gun and diverting it away from your head. The man squeezed the trigger. You grunted loudly, your ears ringing, but you didn't care. You wrestled with the man, landing a punch on his face that made his nose gush with blood. He stumbled backward but didn't fall. If anything, that made him more angry, and he lunged at you. He reached for the braid that stuck from under your balaclava and he pulled, really fucking hard. You grunted out in pain when he tugged your hair to drag you close enough for him to grab you. You fought against him, but you could only do so much against a man twice your size. His fist hit your jaw with enough force to make you dizzy for a second. And he took that opportunity to grab your vest and threw you over a nearby coffee table. Your body slammed so hard against it you ended up on the floor, with it in pieces. 

You weren't a religious person, but goddamn, you were seeing God right about now. You groaned in pain as you tried to push through. You tried to sit up as fast as you could, but the man was already towering over you, and a large boot forced you down by your chest. You forced down the cry of pain you wanted to let out, only breathing out sharply instead. You couldn't find your gun, and you had one, pointed right at your face now. 

"Fucking bitch." The man spat, leaning down to tear your balaclava from your face. You grunted, your face twisted into a scowl as he pulled it off. He scoffed. He was about to say something into his walkie when a voice you were all too familiar with caught his attention. 

"Hey." Billy stood a few feet away, having heard the gunshot and ran in. He didn't even flinch when he pulled the trigger. The man dropped dead a second later. 

You blew out a breath of relief, and you laughed, running a hand over your face. Well shit. You were hoping you wouldn't get any blood on yourself tonight. 

Billy was beside you in a split second, a large hand pulling you up to your feet. His eyes were big with a mixture of panic and anger, and he scanned your body for injuries. His hand landed on your lip, split and bleeding. His jaw ticked but you shook your head at him. 

"You okay?" He asked with a heavy breath. You nodded at him, your own hands touching his face. Blood stained his neck and part of his face. But you had a feeling it wasn't his. "Si?" 

You nodded again, "Si." 

Billy plastered a hard kiss on your lips, his hand holding the back of your head. You hummed against his lips, gripping his own vest. He pulled back after a few seconds, and his eyes landed on the dead man lying next to him. His neck twitched, and his jaw tightened as he pulled the trigger two more times. The man was already dead, Billy had shot him in the head the first time. But he needed to get that out of his system. 

"That was by far the hottest thing you've ever done for me." You breathed out, adrenaline pumping through your veins. You kissed him this time. Much harder. He groaned into your mouth, the side of his handgun brushing your hip as he gripped them with both hands. 

"Did you do what I asked?" He muttered against your lips. 

"Headshots. As always." You smirked against his lips, your skin growing hot just as the ache between your legs grew. 

"Mhmm, that's a good girl." He pressed another kiss to your lips. "Come. Gotta get outta here." 

You nodded, looking on the ground for a second for your handgun. Your eyes skimmed around for a bit before you smiled and you happily picked it up from the ground. When you looked up, Billy was looking at you with an irked eyebrow. 

"Que? It's my favorite gun. I wasn't gonna leave it here. It's got my fingerprints all over it." You shrugged, casually walking past Billy towards the kitchen. You came through that backdoor. It'd probably be easier to leave that way as well. 

Billy watched you with a raised eyebrow. It did always turn him on to see you in your tactical gear. He laughed to himself and followed you. He stayed close behind you, within hand reach at all times. He was so close that he actually bumped into your back when you stopped abruptly. You turned around, and one of your hands came to grip his vest while the other held up your handgun. He frowned, about to question you when you forcefully moved him to the side an inch or two. 

"Agh shit!" He grunted out, a bullet still catching the plate on his back with enough force to make him stumble. 

You kept your grip on his vest as you pulled the trigger twice and he heard a loud thud a second later. When he turned his head he saw a guard on his back, writhing in pain as blood gushed from his chest. Shit, he must have missed the guy when he was clearing the outside of the house. 

He draped a hand over his shoulder where the bullet hit, eyes never leaving you as you quietly walked over to the guard, gun held up. The man began to stammer, coughing up blood as he tried to crawl away. You blinked, head tilted and jaw tight as you pulled the trigger two more times. The man stopped moving with that second bullet. Your face twisted with disdain when you felt blood splatter on your face. Again. 

"Agh, puta sangre de mierda." This fucking blood. 

You harshly wiped your hand over your face, probably making a bigger mess than there already was. You flinched, your gun held up and stopped at Billy's chest. He had a wide smirk on his face, his hands raised, but he was just mocking you. 

"You wanna point that gun somewhere else, pretty girl?" He taunted with a smirk. You gritted your teeth and clenched your jaw. 

"Estás fucking sordo?" Are you fucking deaf? Billy couldn't speak Spanish. But he had learned to pick up on your angry Spanish over time. His smirk only grew wider when you holstered your gun and slammed your flat hands against his chest, attempting to shove him, but he didn't move much. "Did you not hear the motherfucker coming? Are you okay? Did the bullet go through the plate?" 

He found your angry concern amusing, endearing even. But the mocking smirk on his face only made your blood boil more. 

"Aw, my pretty mercenary is worried about me?" He taunted you more, and the fire in your eyes made him completely forget about the throbbing on his shoulder blade. Though he felt a different kind of throb when he felt your flat palm collide with his cheek. 

His eyes widened for a second as he processed the heat spreading through his cheek. He breathed a laugh, but it wasn't a humorous one. Not in the slightest. He ran his tongue over his lips, he could taste the smallest bit of blood. He counted in his head. Six guards altogether, three Marines inside. There were five dead bodies outside. Four inside. Good. 

He didn't say a word as he reached out to you, he grabbed the back of your braid and crashed his lips against yours with so much force it gave you whiplash. You didn't protest though, you welcomed it, actually. You gripped his vest tightly as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth. He hummed with satisfaction as you clung to his vest. He gripped your hair tightly as he made you back into the kitchen island behind you. 

You gasped into his mouth when you felt him hoist you up on the counter. 

"The fuck are you doing?" You pulled back enough to speak, not that you were arguing with him, you had been wanting him ever since you got here. He flashed you a sadistic grin as he gripped your vest and pulled you to the edge so that he was standing between your open legs. 

"Gonna fuck you stupid. That's what." He replied in a heartbeat as his fingers unbuckled the clasps of your vest. He tossed it aside and his eyes instantly landed on the blood splatters staining your jaw and neck. 

"Right here?" You gave him a wide eyed look, lips slightly parted as he ridded himself of his own vest, leaving him a plain black long-sleeve compression shirt. 

"Right here. You did everythin' I asked, and more. And you know I'm a man of my word." Your long-sleeve black shirt was gone next and his lips immediately attached to your jaw. "You don't gotta play innocent with me darlin'. Bet if I touch you you’ll be soaking wet." 

Fuck, you wished he didn’t know you so well. You were real fucking good at pretending with the whole world. But you couldn't pretend with him. And you couldn't deny that you had been wanting him to fuck you senseless the second you saw his face that day. And that tactical uniform of his, fuck it didn't help your cause in the slightest. 

"You know I always want you, doesn't matter when or where." You answered through a ragged breath, your eyelashes fluttered as he ran his tongue over the skin of your neck, and at the same time, he shoved his hand into your cargo pants, right past your panties.

"Yeah, you want me? You want me right now? Covered in blood and everythin'?" He pulled back enough to watch your face as his finger brushed over your cunt. And he was pleased by how right he was. You were so wet. Your mouth fell open as he slipped a finger into you with ease. "You are such a fuckin' whore. You've been this wet this whole time, haven't you? You just killed three men for me, and you're wet?"

God, you should feel disgusted with yourself, with him, but you felt nothing of the sort. If anything, it aroused you more. You ground your hips against his hand, desperate for more as your shaky hands fumbled with the belt of your cargo pants. You tugged until you ultimately got them off one leg once you managed to kick off one of your combat boots. Billy only watched with amusement as you struggled. But he otherwise didn't help you. He liked watching you struggle.  

"Goddamn you're so needy. Such a needy whore." He mocked you with a laugh, but he rewarded you with another finger nonetheless. 

"Yes, yes I'm a whore." You whined, holding yourself upright by gripping his shirt. "I'm your whore. Fuck— Please, I did good." 

Billy nodded at this, the pathetic pleads coming from your mouth making his cock strain against his cargos even more. How such a fierce and vicious mercenary like yourself could give in so easily to him he had no idea, but he sure wasn't complaining. Not in the slightest. 

"Yeah. Yeah, you did. I'm gonna give you exactly what you deserve, don't worry." He spoke through a groan, he rutted his palm against your clit, brushing against it as he curled his fingers against that one spot that made your thighs shudder. 

You bunched his shirt around your fist as your mouth fell open in a silent moan, your hips involuntarily grinding against his hand. Billy watched with amusement as you desperately rocked yourself back and forth on the counter while he undid his pants with his free hand. 

His fingers left you abruptly, leaving your chasing and jaw slacked. You whined, your mouth opening to curse at him but he was gripping your braid with one hand as he brushed his cock through your folds, coating himself in your slick. 

"Yell at me again and I will fuck you with my gun until you cry." He spat, his jaw twitching as he forcefully slammed into you with a snap of his hips. 

You actually cried out this time, your toes curling and your nails dug into his chest. He pulled you to the edge of the counter until your legs hung loosely over his hips. He wound up his hand around your hair, pulling your head back as he rutted himself against you. He held your neck on full display as he dipped his head and ran his tongue over where blood stained your skin. 

"Fuck baby— you always feel so good. But goddamn, you fuckin' taste like heaven." He breathed against your skin, dragging his tongue from your pulse point to your jaw. 

Your fingers slipped into his hair, tangling around the chocolate locks to the root. And you pulled, and you pulled so hard he actually grunted in pain. 

"Dios Billy." You moaned, your lips against his ear, and he slammed into you so hard then he made you slide back on the counter. 

"Not God, baby. But I can be." He breathed out a laugh, his face pressed against your cheek as he wrapped his long fingers around your throat. "Trust me, darlin', when I'm done with you, not even God is gonna make you get outta bed tomorrow." 

You choked out a cry as he brought you closer against him— if that was even possible— and threw one of your legs over his shoulder. His cock hit so deep it actually made you roll your eyes back this time. 

"O-oh shit— shit Billy. I'm gonna come. Please, I wanna come." You spoke in between pants, what you could manage to say with his hand on your throat. You were holding on to him for dear fucking life, both arms thrown over his shoulder as if he was the only thing keeping you from slipping off the countertop. 

"You wanna come? My pretty mercenary wants to come? You earned it, didn't you?" He pulled back enough to watch your face, and he released the grip on your throat so you could respond. 

"Yes! Coño I earned it, please." You sounded so desperate but you didn't care, if there was one man in this world you could let yourself be vulnerable for it was Billy. 

"Mhmm, of course you did." He slipped his hand between your bodies and his thumb rubbed harsh circles on your clit and he drilled into you, pretty much holding you in one place with a tight grip on your ass. "Yeah, like that? Yeah just like that, come for me. You're good at following orders, so come." 

You were seeing white the second his thumb was on your clit and your fingers tugged at the roots of his hair as you came with a silent cry. You eyes were screwed shut and your mouth was hanging wide open as you gripped him tight enough to make his cock twitch. He breathed out a sigh of satisfaction and his lips curled up as he felt your wetness coat his cock. He looked down, and the sight of his cock slick with your come almost made him lose it. 

With a grunt he held you to his chest with a tight grip on the back of your neck and his fingers dug into your ass, holding you still for him as he fucked you. 

"Yeah, you take it just like that. Fuck— fuck that's a good girl." He moaned out the words, his head falling back ever so slightly. Enough for you to press your lips to his neck. But what made him completely lose it was your tongue, on his neck, similarly licking up the dry blood on his skin. "Ooh fuck me." 

His fingers dug deep into your scalp, enough for you to feel a slight burn, but you didn't fucking care. You dragged your lips up to his jaw as he fell still and you breathed out a laugh of satisfaction when you felt him spill himself inside you. He dragged his hips lazily, once, twice more before he just stood still. His fingers were deep rooted in your hair and his eyes were closed. You closed your own eyes as you pressed your forehead against his chest with a lazy smile on your face. 

Billy was silent, his fingers loosening on your hair until only his fingers were lazily dragging his fingers through the now loose strands. You kept your face on his chest, simply listening to his rapid heartbeat that matched your own. It slowly went steady, back to its normal rhythm. Only then Billy pulled back enough to look at your face. His dark eyes watched your face with something much softer and his fingers brushed over your bruised lip. 

"'M fine Billy. You've done worse." You sighed softly at him, your hand coming up to hold his wrist. He furrowed his eyebrows at you. 

"That's me, though. I've never hit you— without your permission anyway. But I've never bruised your face. It ain't the same." He frowned, and you couldn't help but grin at his protectiveness. 

"I said I'm fine, mi cielo." You squeezed his wrist and shot up your eyebrows at him with a suggestive smile on your face. "Does this place have a master bathroom?" 

Billy thought for a second, he had been here once at least before. He figured a house this big probably did have a large bathroom. 

"Probably, why?" 

"Wanna wash this blood off me?" 

Billy's scowl was quickly replaced by a wide smirk of his own and he could feel his cock twitch the slightest bit as your suggestive tone. 

"For this pussy? Baby, I'd kiss the fuckin' ground you walk on." 

Billy was a fucked up man that had met his fucked up match. And he'd be damned if he ever denied you anything.

#billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #billy russo x you #billy russo smut #billy russo #the punisher

[alldevilsarehere90]

May I request #2 and #18 with Daryl pretty please?

(Some Daryl whump if you’re feeling especially generous <3 )

Title: All I'm living for

Pairing: Daryl x female reader

Summary: Just when you finally got the man you wanted, another surprise could threaten your relationship, especially when a herd of walkers is almost at your door step.

Setting: Alexandria (between season 8 and 9)

Warnings: talk of pregnancy and motherhood, anxiety, crying, slightly suggestive, angst and fluff.

Word count: 4k

Prompts: "I'm pregnant ok, that's why I don't want to go on runs and that's why I've been avoiding you." "You can't be serious, that's suicide!"

A/N: I have never done hurt/comfort before, so I hope I've done it well. I did try to condense this one, only to end up making it longer haha. Enjoy!

The feeling of careful eyes on you, suspicious, narrowed and unwavering, and you knew just who they belonged to. Without even looking you knew, you knew he was trying to read you and you also knew you were not making it easy.

You and Daryl had shared a different kind of connection from the very first day you met, one so deep you were aware of the others presence before coming into view. The electricity that charged a room the two of you were in was undeniable. You'd had your time of pretending not to notice, that was…until terminus. You will never forget reuniting with him outside of their captive walls, the sheer relief to have him in front of you, holding him in your arms as he squeezed you in return. 

It was then you could no longer lie to yourself about how you felt. Lying to him, however, was surprisingly easy while you lived on the road, constantly moving from place to place, you hadn't had a moment to breathe let alone relax enough to think about it. 

Until Alexandria.

Then you spent too much time thinking. Overthinking. The timing was never right, or his mood never seemed to fit, or sometimes you just couldn't face the thought of rejection and losing his friendship in the process. 

Then came the saviours.

That's when everything changed, you no longer cared about being embarrassed or unrequited feelings. 

When he was captured by Negan you were filled with regret and it was all consuming. If only he'd known how I felt about him. If only I'd told him before this.

When he returned, he was a different person. It took a long while for him to open up to you and tell you his story. He needed time, that much was obvious but in this world we didn't have the luxury of that before something else needed our attention or our fight. 

You'd confessed one night, when you found him asleep in his basement room having a traumatic nightmare. His body jolted and his face contorted in pain, it hurt your heart in ways you couldn't even describe, in ways you didn't even think possible. He whispered your name and your hands were on him, gently stroking to rouse him from his horror.

He'd awoken with a start, eyes darting to all the dark corners in the room, reaching for his knife when he saw your silhouette.

"Daryl, it's just me." You said, hands up as you stepped into the moonlight seeping in through his small window.

His fright dissipated as he dropped the knife; clattering against the wooden floor. The tears in his eyes had you closing the space between you and wrapping him in your arms, he clung to you while he cried. 

That was the night you could no longer keep the words inside you.

His response had told you everything. He made love to you that night, drawing his name from your lips numerous times until the yellow of the sun streamed through his window. 

Since then, passionate kisses and delicate caresses only when you were alone, along with whispered words you'd only dreamt of…until a week ago.

You'd been off, that much was obvious to everyone in Alexandria. Knowing Daryl, he was probably obsessing over what he'd said or done to upset you, you could practically see it ticking over in his mind constantly and it killed you. Knowing it was you making him feel that way, knowing you were making him doubt himself, something he definitely didn't need any more help with but right now, you couldn't get out of your own anxiety; you couldn't see past it, as selfish as it was. 

The constant feeling of wading through mud, everything seemed harder and your mind felt slower than ever, you were drowning in it and nobody could pull you out of it. Especially Daryl and that was a first. He was the person you spoke to about everything but this…something this big and you couldn't bring yourself to tell him. 

Making the mistake of glancing over at the group discussing the herd of walkers travelling in this direction, only to meet his gaze and for a moment, you see a flash of hope in his eyes as he straightens up, rigid on his seat on the steps of the porch of your shared house.

Your body flinches but you force a smile as you look away again.

"Hey," a voice sounds behind you, making you jump.

Looking over your shoulder as you continue sharpening your knives, you're met with Aaron's sincere and concerned face. 

"Hey." You reply weakly, head down and focus back down on your task, relishing in the high pitched scratch the blade makes against your stone.

He slowly squats down next to you making avoiding his questioning gaze now impossible. "What's going on?"

You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, the tears pricked the corners of your eyes, making your vision blurred but you stayed attentive to your knives. "Nothing."

Sighing he placed a gentle hand on your leg, the notion a comfort you didn't want, knowing you would crumble right here in front of everyone. "You're not fooling me, I know you and I know when there's something troubling you," his thumb rubs small circles on your thigh, in his usual caring manner. "why don't you come over to my place and we can talk? And whatever it is, I'll be here to support you however I can." 

A lone tear fell onto your lap as you were careful to keep your eyes down. Aaron must have noticed as he gently took your hand in his and pulled you up discreetly, leading you towards his house. 

You were closest with Aaron, second to Daryl, he was someone you trusted with your life but this wasn't just about you. How could you share this with him when you haven't spoken to the one person who needs to hear it the most?

As soon as your back’s turned to Daryl and the rest of your group, you swipe at the warm tear that escaped, leaving a wet trail down your cheek in its wake. 

Sitting in Aaron's house, leaning back into the couch and feeling yourself relax slightly from the familiar comfort, worry evident in his eyes as he took the seat opposite you. "What's going on?"

Chewing your bottom lip, debating where to even start, not sure you can even find the words to explain how you feel. You're more than aware of how you should feel rather than how you do and yet, here you are, unable to even understand this pit that has formed, weighted and heavy inside you.

"Is it Daryl? Did something happen between you two?" 

You swallow the nervous dry patch scratching away at the back of your throat. "You could say that," mumbling in response.

Leaning forward, arms resting on his knees, eager to hear what's on your mind. "Did you tell him how you feel?" 

You could see it, the excitement blooming under the surface that he was trying so hard to keep restrained and to put him out of his misery by nodding in response.

"And?" His eyes wide with eagerness, almost cartoon like and under any other circumstances you would have laughed. "Did he upset you?"

Letting out an amused sigh as the idea was ridiculous in itself. "No, far from it." 

He smiled, seeming satisfied and leaning back against the chair. "Didn't I tell you he had feelings for you? You two are made for eachother." 

He registered your watering eyes and immediately joined you on the sofa, taking both your hands in his, waiting patiently for you to continue.

You swallow the nerves you feel rising in your throat like bile, burning your insides as they creep upwards. 

"It's me, I'm messing things up, not Daryl." 

The tears fall freely now, unable to ebb the steady stream down your face. "He's amazing and I don't deserve him for how I'm making him feel right now."

He rubs your back softly as you speak through your sobs. Regaining some ounce of your control in order to choke out the words that made you want to vomit. "I–," your stomach lurched at the thought of even saying those words. "I–," you sat up straighter assessing the churning of your stomach. 

"I think I'm gonna be sick." Your hand went straight to your mouth as Aaron managed to hand you a bin before your breakfast came up and out of you, your stomach pulling, retching until there was nothing left to bring up.

You hadn't noticed you were alone until Aaron walked back in with some tissues and a glass of water, to which you down greedily, feeling a thirst like never before.

Kneeling down in front of you rubbing your arms, he looks you over. "Are you…are you pregnant?" 

You nod, gently pushing the bin with your foot, wanting it as far away from you as your leg could reach before it had a chance to turn your stomach again. 

"Have you told Daryl?"

There it was, the loaded question you couldn't face. Your eyes met his; guilt and desperation radiating from them, telling him the answer before you had a chance to speak.

"Why not?" He frowned, sliding closer to you, holding your knees. It wasn't lost on you how he knew you responded best to touch. It made you feel safe and that was what you needed to open up.

Shrugging, not really knowing yourself and painfully aware of the cop out response you were giving. "I'm scared."

"Listen, Daryl would be a great father and–," 

"I'm not scared of that." You almost scoff, the idea of him being anything other than that is absolutely preposterous. "I know he'd want this baby, and I know he'd be an amazing father." 

You stop, taking a shaky breath, pulling the courage from inside you to speak the truth, "I'm scared of bringing a baby into a world like this, of being terrified all the time that something will happen to it, of being so afraid if something happens to me or Daryl and where will that leave the baby. People die all the time now. Look at Glenn and Abraham, Sasha…Carl. What if we come across another group like the saviours. What if I can't protect this baby?" Another pause and when you next speak your voice comes out like a haunting whisper, "what if I'm an awful mother?" 

You can't help but stand, pacing across the room as thoughts race into your head. Some old offenders and new. Your hands find anchorage in your hair as if that will stop your head pounding with unanswered questions.

"How can I fight walkers off with a screaming baby? You can't, it just goes against everything nature is throwing at us right now. I don't want to go out on runs, I don't want to leave these walls because it's not safe enough, how am I supposed to be useful anymore?"

Your feet finally find pause as your eyes search Aaron's face, pleading for some kind of resolution of all your worries.

He takes a few tentative steps towards you. "And you're worried you'd be a bad mother?"

Taking both your hands in his, he gives them a gentle squeeze. "You're already protecting this baby, you're already being her mother."

That silenced your wild thoughts for a moment. Every decision you've made recently was putting this baby at the forefront of your mind, even if that meant letting others down, that didn't matter anymore, only the safety of your baby and yet, you've failed to realise that until now.

While you processed his words, something else stood out to you. "Her?" 

He smiled, "I can just picture Daryl as a girl dad, that's all." 

Your heart swelled in your chest, fit to burst at the image of Daryl holding a little mini you. A little girl with your hair and his eyes. The scene flickered behind your eyelids like a movie, him smiling down at her while holding her tiny body, making his hands seem even bigger. As a child, teaching her how to track and hunt but letting her put makeup on him or play dolls with her. Then, as a teenager, dealing with hormones and mood swings and trying to fiercely protect her from heartbreak. The image had excitement blooming inside you.

"Listen to me," Aaron grew serious again, "it's terrifying, I know. I'm scared for Gracie constantly and she's not even biologically mine. But when I come home to her and she's safe, that's all that matters."

Aaron had taken to fatherhood like a duck to water, even whilst grieving for the loss of his beloved…Eric. 

"And look at our family here," he continued, "…they are always there to help and support me since Eric…" he trailed off and your heart panged for the sadness in his eyes, forcing a smile he continued. "Look how you are with Gracie and Judith, you protect them so fiercely, I know there isn't anything you wouldn't do for them."

You'd die to keep them safe, without question, like many others in your family would too. The support system you were lucky enough to have was incredible.

Suddenly, you stood here feeling rather foolish. Here this man in front of you was raising a baby on his own after the tragic death of his partner and here you are with the man you've wanted for years, ready and willing in front of you, plus the gift of his baby but almost throwing it all away. And for what? Because you're scared. God, you wanted to slap yourself and tell yourself to grow up.

You have everything most people want in life and yet, you're over here crying and worrying about things that you can't really change, a world you have no choice but to make the best out of, instead of being with the man you love and sharing this happy news with him.

You had the opportunity to be a complete family unit, how many people in this world got the chance at that?

Aarons eyes locked with yours, his wide and full of meaning, "Whether you realise it or not, you're already a mother."

Those words made your heart pound violently in your chest with purpose and validation. 

He was right.

You felt a lot brighter about this unexpected pathway your life had now taken and ready for the next step of talking to Daryl.

With a freshly splashed face you returned to the house you shared with some of your family members, Daryl's eyes on you instantly, chewing his lip as he anxiously played with his pocket knife.

Rick glanced round at you, a solemn look on his face you'd come to know well.

 "Just the person I was waiting for," he put an arm around your shoulder as you joined them. "Listen, I need your help, we've got a herd coming our way, the biggest yet."

All previous positivity diminished hearing those words. You knew you would all have a part to play in keeping Alexandria safe, the cost was unavoidable but who would be the one to pay the most?

"We have a plan…" 

You looked up at him sensing what he wasn't yet saying, "but?"

A slight grimace contorted his face, "but, you're not gonna like it."

You couldn't help your eyes rolling, wishing he would just get to the point. The anticipation was too much to bear, especially with your stomach churning again, through nerves or nausea you weren't sure. "Spill it."

He informs you of his plan. He had men out there building barriers ready and hoping their faith in Rick wasn't misled. 

Who was staying behind to fight them off at the gate? Who was going outside the walls to try and keep them in formation- you apparently? And who was going to try and lure them away? You knew the answer to the latter before the words had left Rick's mouth. Anxiety and anger bubbling and ready to erupt at any moment.

"Daryl's got the bike, he's offered to lead them away, as many miles as he can get them before turning round and coming back." 

Your head shot over in his direction.

"You can't be serious, that's suicide!" Your voice was loud enough that it shocked even you. 

Daryl's eyes were on you, a hint of relief before he concealed them to his usual blank glare.

"Ain't nuthin I ain't done before." He mumbled.

"Why do you have to do it alone? What if something happens to the bike? With all of them following you?" You were tense, your body coiled ready to spring into protect mode for him.

His response to shrug infuriated you fiercely, lighting a fire in your belly, something that must have been obvious as Rick's arm around you dropped and he gave you some much needed space.

"Can I talk to you?" You directed at Daryl, sharply. "In private." 

You stormed up the stairs of the house, hearing his slow footsteps follow behind and stomped down to his basement room, less chance of being heard in there.

"So now you wanna talk to me, huh?" He says kicking the shut behind him. "This what I have to do, to get your attention?"

Guilt stabbed you in the gut, nausea rearing its ugly head again but you pushed it aside needing to be brave and needing to do the right thing.

"I'm sorry." You started with simply, a look of surprise flashed in his eyes as he took a step towards you. "I'm sorry I've been…off. I was too in my head and too scared to talk to you about it because once I did then it would be real."

He looked down at his feet, face hiding behind his messy bangs, nervously chewing his lip, a sight that made you want to grab him in your arms and never let him go. "If ya changed ya mind 'bout us, it's fine, I get it."

You froze, heart aching that that was his first conclusion, before closing the distance, cupping his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. "My feelings for you will never change, Daryl Dixon, don't you dare suggest otherwise."

He nods timidly, fighting a small smile before his brow furrows. "Have I upset ya?"

Shaking your head. "No. You haven't done anything wrong." 

"Then why ain't yer spoke to me all week? Yer ain't been near me or wanted me near yer."

The tears pricked your eyes, feeling like the worst person in the world for making him feel this way. He did not deserve this, he was the last person to deserve to feel like that.

"I'm pregnant ok, that's why I don't want to go on runs and that's why I've been avoiding you." You blurted out quickly before you had the chance to be distracted or interrupted.

His eyes popped as his frame stood frozen, unwavering and silent.

"I was scared," you continued, attempting to ease the shock. "and I didn't know how to tell you. It's all happened so fast." You sighed, the weight of the world removing itself from your tired shoulders. "I'm sorry for making you feel like it was something you'd done."

His hands came up to either side of your face, gently holding you in place, thumbs softly stroking your cheeks. "Are yer sure?"

You nod, eyes moving back and forth between his, "I found a pregnancy test from one of the stores on our last run and did it as soon as I got back." 

Watching the light of sheer happiness in his gaze illuminate his entire face made you exasperated with yourself for neglecting to tell him this long. How could you ever not want this man?

His hands still cradling your face pulled you close and his mouth was on yours, gentle yet urgent, with one arm wound around your waist holding you close, bodies pressed up against each other.

You had missed his hands on you, the warmth he radiated and his body close to yours. Heart hammering wildly, drumming against your ribcage so hard you were sure it was trying to escape to join Daryl's as one.

Breaking away only to catch your breath, foreheads still touching, your hands found their way around his neck, keeping him as close to you as you could. 

"'m gonna be a dad." He said quietly, a heart wrenching smile stretching across his face, a rare sight that you bathed in when it was present.

"You're going to be the best daddy." 

You knew hearing that meant more to him than anything else due to his relationship with his own father. 

His eyes sparkled as his gaze clicked with yours again, the intensity of it making you weak in the knees.

"I love yer." 

Breathing hitching, heart fluttering hearing those words from him for the first time, even though you knew it, it had never been uttered out loud.

"Now, how are you gonna tell me something like that when we have urgent work to do," you stroked a finger down his face, relishing the way his body shivered in reaction, "and I can't make love to you exactly the way I want to." 

He kissed you again more fiercely, growling as his mouth explored yours like a starved wild man.

"I'm yours as soon as I'm back." He rasped.

Reality came crashing down on you then, hitting you like a ton of bricks, suffocating you under their weight. "You're not doing this alone. I mean it, this time."

He nodded. "Fine, but ya ain't coming. I need yer here, behind these walls, keeping our baby safe."

You're about to put up a fight but nod, knowing it's pointless to argue with him. Besides, he wouldn't be able to focus on his job if he was worrying about you.

You would do what you could behind these walls unless it was vital.

You both head out onto the porch with the others, while Daryl goes over to Rick you take a seat on the steps next to Rosita, who mouths, "you ok?" Nodding and smiling in return, you squeeze the hand she puts atop yours.

Watching as Daryl whispers to Rick, his eyes meet yours with a flash of surprise followed by warmth, before composing himself somewhat. Clasping Daryl's shoulder before pulling him into a quick hug and turning back to the group.

Rosita turns in your direction but you ignore it and keep your eyes on Rick.

"Alright, I need someone to take a car and help Daryl lead the walkers away?" Rick asked, turning back towards you all.

"I'll do it." Aaron's arm shoots up and instant relief washes through you. The two people you trust the most helping each other out there, you felt much more comfortable about the situation now and didn't feel as sick knowing they would be out there together.

Rick calls your name, regaining your attention. "You'll be here on the wall with Gabriel, you're the best shooters we have. Do what you can from here to hold our walls."

You nod in agreement, before everyone breaks away to start getting ready.

Daryl's by your side in an instant, arm winding around your waist and pulling you to him. Your arms make their way around his neck as you memorise his face, every line, scar and curve. 

"I'll be back soon, ok?" He says quietly.

"Make sure you are." Standing on your tiptoes you kiss him passionately, relishing the way he tastes against your mouth, not caring that your family were watching.

"I love you." You whisper against his lips.

His answering smile makes your stomach flutter as he gives you one last kiss on the forehead before heading over to his bike. 

"Stay safe." You call out, hands clasped tensilly together in front of you.

"Always." He replied, turning around to face you and walking backwards. "Make sure you stay safe!"

You lifted two fingers up and crossed them over each other, making that silent promise to him, one you would do your all to keep. 

A hand squeezed your shoulder and when you saw Aaron's face next to you another pang of sadness and anxiety pulled your heart strings. 

"Stay safe, and thank you for going with him." You whispered as he pulled you into a hug.

"We'll both be home soon." His gaze turned serious as he held you firmly in front of him, "be careful."

He heads off towards the car, returning your attention to Daryl, who's mounted his bike and whose eyes are already on you. His stare fierce and yet loving, the way that man was capable of conveying everything he needed to in just one look never failed to surprise you.

A lump the size of a golf ball sat in your throat as you watched him start the engine, giving one last look back at you before he begrudgingly lifts his foot off the ground and let the bike take him. You watch the wings on his back carry him off until the gate closes.

Your chest felt empty, a giant hole still beating but with nothing inside, until he returns, bringing your heart back with him.

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[astoryisaloveaffair]

Fix You - Chapter 15 - High and Dry

*gif by @pedrohub

Pairing: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Fem!Reader

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Chapter Summary: 🤷‍♀️

Word Count: 4K

Rating: Explicit!! 18+!

Chapter Warnings: Cussing, violence, drugs, sex fantasies. I will not be warning anything else due to spoiling the story. We are all grown. You can stop reading when you want to.

A/N: Thank you all for being so patient! I hope this doesn’t disappoint! It is a bit shorter than my chapters in this fic usually are but ending it where I did felt right, and I don’t want to beat you over the head with F E E L I N G S. Please keep in mind for this chapter that I am continuing based off the exact themes from Triple Frontier. If you find some things in Triple Frontier offensive, I probably wouldn’t continue reading. This has been the arc I have been working towards for almost two years, and I'm not going to waver. Just stick with me like you have been. It’ll be worth it.

* If a character is speaking in Spanish, I will put “[ ]” around the dialogue. I speak pretty decent Spanish but not good enough for this 🫠

Suggested Songs: “High and Dry” by Radiohead, “Breathe Me” by Sia, “Demons” by Guster, “Cry” by Cigarettes After Sex, “Cold Little Heart” by Michael Kiwanuka

For a few seconds you can’t even figure out what you’re looking at. Or maybe you can, but your brain doesn’t want to process it, the black of the night and the black of the gun meld together so there isn’t a clear outline.

It’s the shiny glint off the gun barrel under the streetlight that makes it real, and then you startle again when a male voice calls to you, muffled through the door.

“Get out of the car!!

You blink, your hand on your chest slowly inching towards your phone that you stashed into your bra in order to not carry a purse at the fair.

“Ah ah ah. No moving except open the door or I will blow your fucking brains out. You be good, I won’t hurt you. Get out.”

Your thoughts race and it feels like you’re silent for almost five whole minutes but you know it’s only seconds, because your hand reaches for the door.

You’re quick enough to figure out that if you try to put the key back in the ignition, he will shoot you before you can leave. If you pull out your phone, he will shoot you before you can place a call. If you try to hide, he could break the window in and grab you and it will make him pissed off.

Your only option here is to fight. You have no idea what this man’s intentions are and you are not going to ignore any chance you may have. Maybe if you hit him and ran—-

You swallow and open the door.

Immediately a gloved hand shoots in and grabs you by your hair, yanking you out of your seat and stumbling to your feet. There’s no respite once you catch your balance, as the man’s other hand pushes you hard in the chest back against the hard shell of your car and covers your mouth with the most foul smelling gloved hand you’d ever smelt.

It’s then that you notice, before you can even try to fight and make a break for it, that there isn’t just one man. It’s four. And all are dressed in black with masks on, completely encircling you. One presses a gun right up under your raised jaw, the other two aim at you from a distance.

There’s no way you can run. You can’t fight off four men, it would be suicide. But you’re not sure what other alternative you have. They might kill you anyways. Or they might let you go…after getting what they want. What they want could be worse. Your brain shuts down in panic, your eyes watering because your body will not allow you to close your eyes out of adrenaline or fear.

Then he speaks to you again.

“Where is the money”. You simply continue to stare, confused.

The man leans in closer, where his nose would be under the mask almost touching your own. It does nothing to dull how rank his breath and B.O. is.

“I’m going to let you talk, you be quiet and do not scream or I shoot you. Yes?”

You nod erratically, and he takes the rancid glove off your mouth.

For a moment you do consider screaming. But it wouldn't matter. By the time someone would even make it all the way across the parking lot to help you’d already be dead.

He asks again. “Where is the money?”

“What money?” You scrunch up your brow and you can hear your voice wavering. They know how scared you are. The gun against your neck pushes deeper, and you can feel the metal forming a bruise with how oppressive it is. “I–I don’t know what you—I have my credit card! You can take it, please have it!” Your right hand gropes its way into the open door of your car like you could magically summon the wallet to your hand.

“No. The money. The money they stole. Where is it?! They’re your sweethearts, yes? They share the money with you, and killed many of us. We came for the money.”

Your heart drops into your stomach as the night’s events flash before you at hyperspeed.

“How he went on a STUPID fucking mission with these idiots to burglarize a fucking drug lord completely off paper?...

Fuck. Fuck. But why would they come for you?

“I—I don’t know where it is. I, I understand now. I just learned this, I know what you’re talking about but I don’t have it, I don’t know where it is, they didn’t tell me anything about this, I swear—”

Your head almost recoils back with the force of his gloved hand, the large palm connecting to your cheek, leaving it stinging and your nose feeling like someone ripped it open. Your eyes water once more as you struggle not to start crying. Stay strong. You have to stay strong. Do not cry.

The man who spoke to you starts pulling you away from your car and into the dark, and despite it being an idea you’d already talked yourself out of, your instinct is to resist. “I told you, I don’t know where it is! I don’t! No–I’m not going anywhere! I don’t care how much you hit me–”

One of them turns to the other, rapidly speaking in Spanish that, thank god, you know just enough to interpret.

[“We should just kill this whore, then kill the big one’s other woman and take the baby. They can always get a new whore. They will come for the baby.”]

And suddenly it’s like your brain is the most clear it’s every been. “No! No, I’ll go! Take me, they’ll come for me, I promise. They will. And—and I’m easier to transport than a baby. You’d have to take care of it right?? Until they come?? That would be a lot of work! I’m—-I won’t fight I swear! Please just take me I promise you’ll get the money. Okay?”

The men look at each other, sending some secret silent message you can’t interpret. You look at the one standing in front of you. You can barely even see his eyes in the dark.

“Please. They’ll come.”

And then you don’t remember anything else.

It took everything he had in him not to turn and look at you, to shoot up off the couch and peer out that window to watch you leave, to rip the door open and run to you, apologizing for all of it. But he didn’t.

Instead, he sat there with his head in his hands, eyes screwed shut to keep the threatening tears from spilling out. Eventually, time and space faded out, he felt nothing but everything. It felt like he had been sitting on that couch forever and also for just one second. He felt dead inside. When he finally got up and trudged down the hall to bed, it was three in the morning.

He wakes to Gabi crying. “Fuck.” He grunts, as he rolls over to glare at his phone that didn’t go off. Except it did go off. He had slept through it, and it was almost 11am. His head is killing him, and he presses his lower palms into his eyes to try and alleviate the pain. It felt like he had a hangover, but he hadn’t had a drink or used. An emotional hangover.

Frankie hauls himself out of bed and stumbles to Gabi’s room, she is absolutely beside herself calling for him and rattling the railing on her crib. He can tell her diaper is full and she hasn’t had breakfast and now he feels like extra shit because of that.

“God, baby, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry honey…” he scoops her up and pulls her to his chest, cooing and lightly bouncing her to soothe the cries. “Daddy didn’t feel good, I don’t know what happened, I’m so sorry. Are you ok?” She sniffs and nods, wiping away a snot bubble. “Ok so I know you’re starving but you would probably also feel more comfortable after a bath. Does that sound good? Which would you like first?”

Gabi sniffles again. “um…baff.”

Frankie nods and carries her to the bathroom, immediately taking off her soiled clothes and starting to run the bath. While they wait, he softly brushes her hair, using his fingers to gently separate the cute little mats she sometimes gets in her curls.

He bathed her in silence, and he knows Gabi knows something is wrong, as she usually likes to play with her sea animal toys when she is in the bath. Today she is simply swirling the bubbly water with her finger.

He doesn’t know what to say. He doesn’t know what she understood and what she didn’t. When he broke up with Lex she was too young to realize or know any better but now…now she was aware. And she had loved you…

So did he. His chest seizes in a searing pain as he thinks of you, the way your face looked when he said what he said. He hadn’t meant any of it.

It was a new level of heartbreak, because he had known better not to cater to his impulsive stubbornness, the insults and hateful comments that spill out of his mouth when he gets caught, when he feels backed into a corner. He knew better and he couldn't stop himself, his defensive and selfishness overwhelming him. And then you asked him about the farmers he shot. And it hit him.

He was a bad person. There was no denying it. He’d wanted to keep that side of himself away from you, he’d change the topic or just blatantly lie, but he liked the man he was with you, he wanted to prolong the feeling as long as he could before he messed it up. And he messed it up.

It suddenly didn’t matter to him in that moment that you could possibly forgive him. You SHOULDN'T forgive him. His past, his life, his actual shitty personality…you deserved more. You were so young, you could find someone new easily who didn’t have all his problems. So he pushed you away.

And you were fun to fuck, I’ll admit that. Let me do fucking anything…

He whips around and all but flings the toilet seat cover off the entire toilet and promptly vomits.

He is a horrible person…but he knew, deep down, that you would have forgiven him, that you would have stayed. And as the world fell apart and it all came crashing down around him, he knew you shouldn’t. But it still pissed him off that you listened to him, even when he knew this was right. He could not deny he selfishly still also wanted you to come back, to refuse to leave and beg and plead and tell him how much you love him. Everything is so complicated.

He pulls his head up and rests it in the crook of his arm along the rim of the tub. He feels a light poking and looks up to see Gabi.

“Daddy we done?”

He blinks, looking down like he had forgotten where he was and what he was doing. He reached for the loofah to rinse it from soap later. The water was getting cold.

Jesus fucking Christ.

He says nothing and nods, wrapping her up in a blanket and putting on her favorite mermaid scale leggings and a little Fleetwood Mac shirt you’d gotten her so she could match with him.

After settling Gabi with her food, he trudges into the living room, collapsing on the couch and opening his phone.

It barely rings before it’s picked up.

“Hey, Fish…was just ‘bout to text you. You ok?”

“No.”

Will began to speak, but Frankie cut him off. “Look I need you to watch Gabi for a couple days. I’m…off my dad game. Can I bring her over?”

“Yea…sure.”

Frankie could hear the hesitation in Will’s voice.

“I’m not gonna use.”

“I didn’t say you would.”

“Right. Be there in a bit.”

He told them mostly everything. If there was one thing he learned from you, it was that talking about it did make him feel better.

They said nothing at first but listened, offering words of support, because there was nothing to say. Your reaction was completely justified, and you were rightfully upset about being lied to. So was Maidali.

“Yea she won’t talk to me right now either.” Will sighs, and Frankie feels a twang of guilt that he had spent the entire time talking about himself.

His sad eyes make contact with Will’s. “I’m sorry.”

“It is what it is. Hopefully she can get over it. Flower too.”

“She won’t.” They could see this was a struggle for Frankie just from the muscles clenching in his jaw. “I made her.”

“What do you mean?”

“I made her break up with me. I—-said some really horrible shit. Shit I didn’t mean. Well, maybe I did at first cause I was mad but also…she doesn’t deserve this.”

“Deserve what?” Said Benny.

“Me, this, everything!” He throws his arms up gesturing to himself and around him before they thump back down on the couch cushions. “I wish I did deserve her but I don’t, and she has so much life ahead of her! I don’t want to tie her down to an old, fucked up, lying murderer, ok.”

“So…you White Fanged her?”

“….I don’t fucking know what that means, Benny.”

“Like, you loved her and knew she needed to be out there in the wild, it’s where she belongs, so you threw stones and shit at her to make her hate you and leave?”

Frankie blinks. “…yea.”

“But you still love her? You still want her, yea?”!

“Yes, but—“

“Well text her! Call her! Do something!”

Frankie hangs his head. “I already did. Cause I’m fucking weak. But it didn’t deliver. She blocked me. It’s what I deserve. It’s over.”

Before either of them could speak he stood up, indicating the discussion was over.

“Listen, just…watch Gabi for a couple days for me so I can feel like fucking shit and get over it and not have to listen to Lex’s fucking nagging if I ask her to take Gabi early.”

Will and Benny nod, each giving him a long hug before he said goodbye to Gabi and trudged right out the door.

And immediately texted his dealer.

He knew he shouldn’t. This wasn’t like his argument with you. He knew damn well he shouldn’t do this, that it would ruin his life probably. The difference is he just didn’t give a fuck. He didn’t deserve sobriety. He didn’t deserve good things. And he was tired of feeling the excruciating pain of heartbreak and abandonment that he had never wanted to feel again. The sharp twisting and turning in his chest coupled with nausea and dread. He felt you in every fucking heartbeat. He felt like he was dying.

He didn’t want to feel it this time.

He sighs, finished with chopping the chunky white powdered clumps up with his credit card, grabs a dollar bill from a his wallet, rolls it up, puts one end to the line of cocaine and the other his nostril, looks up—

And sees pictures of him and Gabi. At the zoo, washing his truck together with hose water splashing everywhere. A photo you took of Frankie and Gabi sleeping spooned together on the couch.

All new memories. All memories he got within the past 6 months. Memories he never would have gotten if he was still using.

No. He did still deserve that. Despite everything, he deserved to have Gabi in his life, and deserved to have a life sober. It was fucking poison, not just for his body but his soul and his life and his sense of self and even if it hurt, even if…

Even if you never come back to him. Because you told him he needs to fix himself for himself.

What you meant to him…what he had with you before he fucked it up, it meant everything to him. It wasn’t right to just get completely blitzed out to get through the pain. He needed to feel the pain. You deserved that, at least.

Before he can think about it he scoops the powder into his palm and runs to the toilet, throws the powder and the rest of the dime bag in, and flushes. Then he heads straight to bed.

He stayed in bed for days. Yea, he got up to eat, use the bathroom, answer “are you alive” texts, eat some crap junk food. But immediately after he would collapse back into bed.

He jacked off thinking of you constantly and hated himself for it. Your smile, the way you whimper his name as you came on his cock, he’d scroll through your secret nasty WhatsApp chat blowing his load to everything you’d texted to him, the voice notes you’d send him when he was at work of you masterbating and thinking of him…

That last time he’d fucked you when you’d been sleepy on the couch only in one of his old giant tshirts, how he’d pulled your panties to the side to look at you, so perfect and flushed. He’d placed a pretty kiss against your pussy and crawled over you, pulling his boxers down and pushed himself into you, groaning with a smile as your eyes fluttered open with a gasp. He’d slowly rocked into you as you whimpered in his ear, “Frankie Frankie Frankie Frankie I love you I love you I love you…” He had kissed you as you came because he loved hearing your moans vibrate against his lips.

That one time you joked about getting pregnant while he was fucking you and he had cum so fast he didn’t even know what happened.

Your pretty eyes looking up at him as you sucked him off, taking him deep and letting him cum where he wanted.

Your laughter.

Your smell. The sheets on your side of the bed still smelled like you, and after he orgasmed to you, he’d fall asleep clutching the pillow you used, burrowing his head into it as far as he could to remember your smell, pretending it was really you. Your smell was fading. It scared him.

He started not caring about meals when he learned you'd apparently blocked all his friends, even Benny.

It’s really over.

He slept for days. Because at least when he was asleep, he was either with you, or not conscious to realize he wasn’t.

You wake up to your entire body vibrating and your head searing with pain. The ground is cold, hard, and smells weird and your skin sticks to its texture. You feel liquid dripping slowly from your scalp and you try to wipe your brow but you can’t, and as you emerge from the foggyness in your head, you discover you have your hands bound and arms pulled behind your back. Your legs were bound too, all the way up to the knee and wow, obviously that’s why your shoulders and neck hurt so much.

You’re further disoriented as whatever transport you are in swerves in a tilt to the right and you slide across the floor and into a pile of boxes against the wall. A corner hits you in the back and you almost gasp out all your air from the force but you had a nasty rag stuffed in your mouth.

“Eh!” A sharp voice from further up in the vehicle calls. “You stop moving or I throw you out the plane!”

The plane. The rumbling was from you being in the fucking air, the texture sticking to your body was the metal framework of the cabin, and you didn’t know where the fuck you were going. You try to slow your breathing so you don’t hyperventilate and panic.

Surely the government watches all the planes flying around, right? They can’t just fly a plane in the airspace without them noticing? Right?!

But the plan is not stopped, not challenged, not asked to land.

You look over the top of the boxes and notice there’s a window, and you struggle to push yourself up against the cartons with your bound hands to stand, and continuing to use those boxes, you shimmy on bound legs to look out the tiny window.

You were flying over the ocean.

No one will be able to find you.

It’s finally too much. So you cry.

#pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #frankie catfish morales #pedro pascal character fanfiction #triple frontier fanfic

[whatsnewalycat]

Burn It Down - One Shot

Javier Peña x Reader - Explicit (18+ only)

Summary: Before that moment, he was so careful not to tip his hand. Always trying to make you think he’s content to take the scraps of love you give him and feast upon them. Because wanting more with you means more than just having you. It means mess. It means burning your lives down to the ground. It’s the unspoken truth of your relationship.

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: Javier's POV, Angst, Established Secret Relationship, Infidelity, Drunk Driving (DON'T DO THAT!), Leg Grinding, Dirty Talk, Orgasm, Possessive Javier, Angst With A Happy Ending

A/N: Story inspiration from "The Ideal Husband" by Father John Misty. This was originally a scene I had in mind when I started writing Just Dumb Enough to Try (can you tell I was listening to a lot of FJM??), but it didn't work with those characters or their relationship.

I revisited it and fleshed it out and changed some stuff, and, voilà!

[ Masterlist ] [ Taglist ] [ AO3 ]

He should leave. 

Just turn the car around and go back home. 

But the pragmatic part of his brain is riding in the backseat. Whiskey has the wheel now. 

The digital clock on the dash reads 7:00 AM. He shakes his head in disbelief when he realizes it's been just 24 hours since he woke up in your bed and everything was fine. 

What he wouldn't give to go back in time and be there again. Heat of your body clinging to him. Buried under your white bedsheet. Watching your fingertips dance across his torso. 

Sometimes he closes his eyes and tries to trace the path your touch takes. Other times he watches inquisitively. Always trying to decode the invisible messages you draw onto his skin in these quiet moments. When he asks you what you're writing, the answer is always the same. 

"It's a secret," you teased, amusement at his curiosity drawing your gaze to his. Humor crinkled the delicate skin at the corners of your eyes. 

You and your goddamn secrets. 

If he could go back in time to 7:00 AM yesterday, this could have all been avoided. He'd tell himself to get the fuck out as soon as you suggested breakfast. Before he could have a chance to wander around your kitchen and study the artifacts of your life with the man who lives there. He wouldn't have seen the calendar on the wall. 

"I have to go. Shit to do on the ranch," he could have lied. He could have gotten dressed and gone home. 

He wouldn’t have spent the whole day drinking himself into a stupor, trying to get rid of your voice in his head. Trying to make your bright smile, your infectious laugh, disappear from his memory. Trying to erase the penciled-in note on your calendar. 

This all could have all been avoided. 

Despite all the things that could have been, though, he's here. Turning down your street. Coming to a stop and shifting the gear into park. Watching the closed curtains for any sign of movement. 

He pries open the center console and pulls out a shiny aluminum flask, then slouches down in the driver's seat and starts to empty its contents into his belly, one pull at a time. Taking a drink every time the deep ache of yearning tightens around his heart. 

No, see, despite all the things that could have been, you're in this house and he's out here. You're in there, probably still tucked into the bed and sleeping soundly, and you can never unhear the things he said to you. 

Yesterday will never happen again. No do-overs in this life, unfortunately, regardless of how many times Javi has wished there would be. Yesterday will always be the day you were greasing a frying pan, and he snuck up behind you, circling his arms around your waist, pressing a kiss into the crook of your neck. You reached back and blindly ran your fingers through his hair as you melted against him. 

He mumbled against your skin, "Wish we could do this every day."

Now that he thinks about it, maybe those words were the catalyst, not the calendar. His admission of wanting anything more. Before that moment, he was so careful not to tip his hand. Always trying to make you think he’s content to take the scraps of love you give him and feast upon them. 

Because wanting more with you means more than just having you. It means mess. It means burning your lives down to the ground. It’s the unspoken truth of your relationship. 

The way your body reacted to his confession told him that you know this, too. 

It was subtle, the way you tensed ever-so-slightly, pulse jumping against his lips. It was so slight, he thought he might have imagined it. But now, looking back, he has decided it was another one of your secrets. Always trying to hide pieces of yourself away, as if you want it to be impossible for any single person to see all of you at one time. 

It's been occurring to him, more and more lately, that he desperately wants to be the person you'll hand all your broken pieces to. He wants to splay you out on his dining room table like a 1000-piece puzzle that's halfway completed. 

Fuck, more than anything on this Earth, he wants to hover above you, studying each intricate, jigsawed fraction of you until he's memorized them all. Then maybe, you can both figure out how it all fits together. Then maybe, he can see all of you at one time. 

Then maybe, he can trust you with his own broken pieces. 

"I do, too, Javi," you whispered. 

Your voice wasn't hopeful. Instead, it was thick with sorrow that settled heavy in his chest like pneumonia. His hands fell away from your sides and he stepped back, giving you space to cook. You started to crack eggs into a stainless steel bowl while he casually studied the kitchen. The metallic ting-crack of eggshells giving way to the lip of the bowl was background music to his exploration. 

When he closes his eyes and recounts these events, that ting-crack echoes loudly. 

He examined the shelf of cookbooks, wondering if any of them were hand-me-downs from your mom or grandma. As he continued to stroll, he saw trinkets and contemplated their significance, too. Filed them away as potential pieces of the puzzle. Always looking for clues. 

And then he found one. 

His eyes fell on a bird calendar hanging from the wall next to your corded home phone. November 1998 was represented by the kingfisher. Its teal and rust feathers contrast and compliment each other in a striking way that he found himself admiring. Then he noticed a penciled-in note for this coming Tuesday, handwriting unmistakably yours: Wedding Cake Testing 6:00. 

You were whisking the eggs together, head down, and didn't see his face when he shattered. It was obvious to him at that moment that the two of you were just playing house for the weekend. He was just filling in as Daddy while your fiancé was away on a business trip. The unspoken truth, glaring right in the eyes. 

And it ruined him. 

Of all the complicated emotions fighting over control of his brain, rage was the victor. The edges of his vision tinged red and hot. He clenched his teeth together and leaned back against the countertop, watching you with indignation as you cluelessly went about making breakfast. 

"Do you really or are you just saying that so I'll keep fucking you?" he heard the rage say. 

You were about to pour the eggs into the pan, but lowered the bowl and turned around to face him, chuckling with confusion, "Wh- what?"

He knows now that there was no way for you to see this coming. You couldn't have foreseen the blinding rage that overrode him. But your confusion fueled the flame anyway. 

All he could think is: It's all a goddamn act.   An illusion. You and your fucking secrets. This other life you lead when he’s not there. 

It burned hot in his veins. 

He didn’t take the evidence into account. The way you look at him like he's the only person who exists. The few broken pieces you allow him to see. Your claims to misery, a whispered confession the night before: "I feel trapped when I'm with him, and when I'm with you I'm free."

Because there you were, standing in a kitchen that your fiancé owns, scrambling eggs that your fiancé bought, drowning in your fiancé's t-shirt, wearing that fucking diamond ring on your left hand, and Javier was certain you had no intention of leaving. 

You opened your mouth, but just blinked frantically, rendered silent by this part of him you had never seen before. 

He pushed off the countertop and started pacing, pinching the bridge of his nose, “You agreed that you wish we could do this every day,” losing control of himself, he crowded you against the kitchen counter, pressing his nose into your cheek, craning your head to the side, “If that’s true, why haven’t you left him? Hmm? Why him and not me, cariño?” 

You gave no response. Just short, panicked puffs of air against his cheek. 

"What does he have that I don’t? Is it because you don’t want to be seen with someone like me?”  

“Someone like you? I- I don’t-” 

“Don't play dumb, you know what I mean," he sneered, palms pressing down on either side of your waist, cornering you there like his prey, "What is it, baby? What does he have that I don't? Hmm?" 

His lips brushed against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. A soft gasp expanded your lungs when he husked, “Does he pay attention to you like I do?"

"No," you whimpered and shook your head. 

He shifted his hips and wedged a knee between your legs, "Does he touch you like I do?"

When you shook your head this time, his teeth caught your earlobe and a little moan escaped your throat. The warmth of your sex found his thigh and you arched into the contact. He pulled back enough to meet your eyes, all confusion and blown-out pupils as you looked up at him through your eyelashes. 

"Does he fuck you like I do? Hmm, baby?" his heart was thudding loud in his chest, searching your eyes for the truth. 

You bit down on your bottom lip and held back a moan, shaking your head as you began rubbing yourself against his leg. 

“I didn’t fucking think so," he growled, grabbed your face and captured your lips in his. The kiss was possessive and heated. 

Simultaneously, he wanted to destroy you and make you whole. He wanted his touch to haunt your body long after you married this fucking prick. He wanted to spoil your appetite for other men so completely that the thought of anyone else touching you would bring on bouts of nausea. 

He wanted to fucking ruin you. 

Breaking the kiss, he placed his hands on your rolling hips and pressed you down harder. Your head fell back and you moaned wantonly at the friction. When your gaze snapped back to his, your face was flushed, soft moans falling from your lips as you humped his leg. 

You weren't wearing any underwear and he could feel the heat of your cunt through the thick denim of his jeans. When he looked down at the place your bodies met, the dampened fabric as proved that you fucking loved this. 

"I wish he'd walk in and see you just like this," he growled, digging his fingers into your hips, making you gasp. 

You grabbed onto the sides of his shirt and used him as leverage, gaining more momentum.

"See you rubbing that sweet pussy all over my leg," he purred, meeting your hot gaze with his own as he uttered the words, "See that you're mine." 

Your mouth gaped open and you started to whimper frantically. Grinding down against his thigh. He could tell you were close. Your eyelids started to flutter. 

"You sit here and placate me, tell me that you want this, and then what? You continue to plan your sham fucking wedding while you fuck me on the side?" he asked through gritted teeth. 

You whimpered and shook your head frantically in denial, "No, baby, that's not true."

"Such a fucking liar, cariño." 

His lips formed an O and he spurred your pace, rocking you back and forth so fast you started taking big, deep, swallows of air and released a choked sob. 

"That's ok, baby, you can use me. Use me to make yourself feel fucking good," he growled, pressing his forehead to yours, rocking you faster now, fueled by the moans slurring together from your throat, "Come on baby, I want you to cum all over my fucking leg. Show me how much you like being my little slut." 

"Oh my god-" you gasped, "Yes yes yes, I like it."

"Like being a little fucking slut, baby, hmm?"

You nodded, whimpering and gasping, rubbing your cunt all over his drenched, hot leg, reaching a fever pitch. And then your face twisted up with pleasure and you shuddered, "H-holy fuck-”   legs tightening around his as you twitched against him. 

His lips curled into a smile at your sexual satisfaction. He kissed your sweaty forehead, your cheek, your lips through panting breaths. You hummed and closed your eyes, releasing his shirt to link your hands behind his head. 

He wasn't done with you yet, though. 

The inflamed, red part of him was still throbbing. So fucking sure that he had you figured out. So convinced he didn't need to see all the broken pieces to know that you were just toying with him. 

“I can't keep playing boyfriend with you, hoping that one day you'll actually pull the trigger and leave him."

Your chest still heaving, you pulled back and narrowed your eyes in confusion. He stepped away and returned your stare with a piercing gaze. You averted your eyes and closed in on yourself, arms folding in front of your chest. He mistook it as a sign that he was on the right track. 

“Why, cariño? Why are you so fucking content to stay? So you can be miserable? But hey, at least it’s comfortable. Isn't that right? Hmm?"

When you turned to look up at him, meeting his gaze with disbelief and fury, he should have known that you were setting your phasers to kill. 

"Is that what you think, Javier?" you bit off, glaring as you searched his face, “That I want this? Do you think this is fucking fun for me?" 

It was his turn to be rendered silent and unmoving. He watched you carefully. 

"What the fuck am I supposed to do? I have fucking nothing ,” the last word was spoken through gritted teeth. The rage overrode you, too. 

The unspoken truth spoken. It was too much for either of you to handle. 

He cut you off with a lie, “That’s not true.”

“Well, what, are you gonna save me? Let me live with you? You won’t even let me come over when your dad is home,” you scoffed, then stared off into the distance and awaited a reply he couldn't give you. 

The weight of the truth started to settle on your shoulders. He could see them slump. Your face crumpled, folding under the pressure of sorrow that welled up in the corners of your eyes, “Can’t you see that I’m in love with you, Javi? Of course I want you.”

Desperately, you searched his face for a reaction. He couldn’t process this information. So sure that he had you pegged as something much more insidious, so committed to his rage, the question gave him emotional whiplash. 

You could see it then. The panic building in his chest, creeping into the features of his face, widening his eyes. He opened his mouth to form words but nothing came out. He just shook his head. Your confession met with complete and utter terror. 

Your nostrils flared. 

“Get out,” you spat, jabbing a finger against his chest, “Fucking hypocrite.” 

It’s been bubbling between the layers of his skin since. Your confession. Your anger. Your pain. 

Fucking hypocrite. 

You were right. He did as you asked. He left. 

Went home and hit the bottle. Thought long and hard about everything. The broken pieces he can see spread out before him. Waking up next to you. Your secret notes on his skin. How your body tensed up when he tipped his hand. The calendar. Your penciled in note. The rage it evoked. His accusations. Your confession of love. 

Can’t you see that I’m in love with you? 

Now he can. He put it all together. And now he can see it. Even clearer yet, he can see… that he’s in love with you, too. 

He drops the flask back in the center console and slams it shut. Gets out of the vehicle and lets his heavy feet carry him to your front door, where he rings the doorbell. Pounds his fist against the door. 

It swings open, and you’re wrapped up in a plush black robe, hair mussed from tossing and turning in your sleep, squinting puffy eyes at the intrusion. When you register that it’s Javier standing there, swaying unsteadily on your doorstep, you sigh and cross your arms, “What do you want?”

“I needta talk to you,” he slurs, leaning against the doorframe for support. 

Your eyes blink open wider and you study him, then ask, “Are you fucking drunk?” 

He neither confirms nor denies, just shrugs. Which is like a confirmation but at least he doesn’t have to say it out loud. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Javier, get in here,” you groan and turn around into the house. He follows and closes the door behind him, then tries to bend over to take his shoes off, but stumbles forward. 

“Come on,” you pull him upright and wrap an arm around his back, guiding him towards the bedroom, “You need to sleep.” 

“Nnnno- Gotta tell you-” he mumbles, but lets you continue to guide him down the hallway, into your bedroom, where he plops down onto the bed that’s still warm from your body heat. 

You untie his shoes and yank them off. They thud on the hardwood floor, one at a time. He hums once they’re off and tries to sit up to look at you, but you press your fingers against his chest and guide him back against the bed, “He’s not gonna be back 'til tomorrow, you can sleep it off here.” 

His eyes close and he feels the room start to spin and fade as you take his pants off, then start unbuttoning his shirt. While you methodically strip him down into comfort so he can sleep, he tries time and time again to touch you, to pull you into an embrace, to make it like it was at this time yesterday. But you swat him away, muttering to yourself in annoyance. Or maybe you’re asking him questions. He’s not sure anymore. 

He hears you ask, “Why did you even come here, Javi? Can’t believe you drove in this condition.” 

This triggers his memory. He recalls the purpose of this trip. 

“I love you too,” he blurts out. You freeze. His eyes blink open and meet yours. 

Your eyebrows are pressed together, lips parted in shock. He lets it sink in. When you respond, your eyes are brimming with tears and your voice is quivering, “Don’t fuck with me right now, Javier.” 

“Mmmnot fucking with you, cariño,” he swears. His hand finds yours, and this time you let him take it, but it’s limp in response. He rubs his thumb against your skin and doesn’t part his gaze, tries his hardest not to slur his words, “I’m tired of running. Don’t wanna hide. I’m in love with you.”

Big, fat tears start to roll hot down your cheeks. You sniffle and wipe them away, avert your gaze, “You’re just saying that because you’re shitfaced.” 

“Nope,” a drunk smile stretches across his face, “Figured it out. I- I wanna marry you, have babies with you, all that. I wan' everything with you.” 

Your gaze meets his, and he can tell you’re trying to determine whether or not this is the booze talking. And, in a way, it is. He probably wouldn’t have said that last part if whiskey hadn’t destroyed his brain-to-mouth filter. He pulls your hand to his lips and plants a kiss on the back of it, then presses it to his cheek and tells you, “I mean it, cariño.” 

“Javi,” you whimper, lips forming a pout as more tears fall, “Can we talk about this when you wake up?” 

“Do you love me?” he asks, searching your face, nuzzling against the heat of your hand. 

“Yeah,” you smirk, “I do love you. Now please get some sleep, drunky pants.” 

“I don’t even have pants on,” he scoffs playfully. 

“I know, baby, I took them off,” you snort, then pull your hand away and tuck him into bed. As soon as the warmth of the blankets surrounds him, he passes out. 

When he wakes, the clock on your bedside table reads 1:35 PM. There’s music playing from a stereo in your kitchen. His head starts to pound as he sits up and puts his clothes back on, then gets out of bed. He vaguely recalls the things he said to you before passing out. 

The floor creaks under his feet when he enters the kitchen, alerting you to his presence. He peers around the room. The bird calendar is still open to November 1998, kingfisher still puffing out its impressive plumage, Wedding Cake Testing 6:00 still penciled in for this Tuesday. 

It’s funny how some things remain static although everything around it has changed. 

“Hey,” you greet him, flashing a hesitant smile as you lean back against the counter and cross your arms. 

Your body language confuses him. Hadn’t he told you? Hadn’t he confessed his love? 

Suddenly, anxiety vibrates his bones and leaves him feeling insecure. He approaches you cautiously, “Hey.” 

“How are you feeling?” 

Your voice is warm and filled with concern. He takes another step towards you and shrugs, “Grateful that you didn’t murder me in my sleep.” 

A grin plays on your lips. He comes closer to you, beckoned by the hopefulness brightening your face. You meet his gaze as he brings his hands to your hips. He slides them around you and your crossed arms that quickly respond, wrapping around his back, pulling him closer. 

The heat of your body in his embrace pulls a content sigh from his chest and he melts into it. He buries his nose in your hair and inhales the scent of you, and he knows. 

“I meant it,” he mumbles against you, closing his eyes and squeezing you tight, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” you whisper.

Your fingers dig into his skin, like you’re trying to prevent him from escaping. Like if you hook your barbs into him he can’t leave you here to rot in a lie. But he’s not running. Neither are you. 

“What are we gonna do?” you ask him. 

He knows that this won’t be simple. It means mess. It means burning your lives down to the ground. 

“Are you ready to leave him?” he loosens his grasp on you to meet your eyes. Searching for clues. For secrets that might be lingering in the background. 

Your gaze is unflinching as you nod. You’re studying him, too. Both so timid as you tiptoe out from behind the curtains and reveal more of yourselves.

His heart is pounding in his chest, fingers tingling, vulnerability peeling away at his layers until he’s just raw, exposed nerves. 

“Do you wanna come home with me?”

The question leaves a thick residue in his throat, and he swallows hard. 

“Right now? To live?” 

He nods, ignoring the knot of insecurity twisting in his stomach that tries to make him doubt you. 

It’s like the further you both step into the bright light of truth, the more puzzle pieces you each give and receive, and it starts to fall into place. He sees more than those little jigsawed fragments of you now. He starts to see the bigger picture. 

“Yes, Javi,” you nod, eyebrows pressing together as your face crumples into tears of relief. He cups your cheeks with his palms and meets your gaze with a smile that takes up his whole face, folding his eyes into crescent moons. 

You pull him into a kiss that ignites his soul, then melt against him. 

Illuminated by the hot, glowing flames of your lives burning down, he sees you, and he knows that you see him. And he knows the two of you will dance on the ashes and welcome new growth.

#javier peña #javier peña angst #javier peña x you #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfiction #narcos fanfiction #narcos #narcos fic #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedrostories #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal character #pedro pascal character fanfiction #javi peña x you #javi peña x reader #javi peña #javi pena #javi pena x you #javi pena x reader #whatsnewalycat writes

[astralis-is-typing]

⚝fic type: one shot as part of the weeknd series

⚝genre/contains: choi yeonjun x gn!reader, angst, fluff ending, heartbreak, yeonjun was a rebound

⚝word count: 4k

⚝synopsis: yeonjun was simply supposed to be a rebound to help you cope with the breakup you'd just gone through. when your relationship with him blossomed into more than that, you abruptly cut him off in a bid to protect yourself from any more possible hurt. you ended up hurting him instead, and as time went on you realized what a huge mistake you'd made by letting yeonjun go. perhaps you'll be able to salvage what you two had at the party tonight...

You chased after him in the sea of swaying bodies, weaving through the partygoers as deftly as you could manage while still keeping his raven coloured hair within your line of sight. It’s a good thing he was tall.

Your struggle in trailing after the sullen boy was eased considerably when you followed him onto a corridor with a thinner crowd. He didn’t look behind him or acknowledge your presence in any way before opening a door to his left and disappearing into its well-lit interior.

“Yeonjun, wait!” you pleaded, planting your palms on the bathroom’s door to keep him from shutting you– and the rest of the party– out. Your voice broke out from the confines of your chest all rushed and high-pitched, as if you feared you’d never be able to say what you needed to if you didn’t act right then. “We need to talk. I need to-”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Yeonjun mumbled. His voice was gravelly, probably from lack of use. You’d noticed him falling quiet as the night wore on. His tone was firm, defensive, and it was a clear indicator that he wanted you to leave him alone.

“But there is, Yeonjun,” you insisted, just as firm. He sighed and held the door open for you, avoiding any eye contact as you walked past him into the small space. If you had to have this conversation in a bathroom then you would. The bright fluorescent lights left spots in your vision for a few seconds since everywhere else outside this bathroom was dimly lit. Yeonjun closed the door before leaning against it, black bangs falling over his eyes that were trained on the tiled floor as he waited for you to speak.

—

You and Yeonjun had broken up a few months ago. It really hadn’t been your intention to get into a relationship with him in the first place, heart still sore and mending from what your ex, Heesung, had put you through. But Yeonjun was like a treat that one stowed at the top shelf of their pantry for ‘emergencies’; vowing that they would take ‘just one more bite’ and they’d have had their fill... inevitably losing that war before they even realised it. You kept promising yourself that every date would be the last, and by the sixth one he had officially asked you to be his and you’d selfishly agreed. What you had meant to keep as a reliable contact for Saturday walks in the park had evolved into late night drives with a boy who held stars in his eyes.

You met Yeonjun at a dance studio a friend had been nagging you to check out. The place had a great reputation and you soon learned that Yeonjun spent a lot of his free time there. He was exemplary at dancing, much like anything else he really set his mind to. Like winning you over, for example. Something in his vibe was simply magnetic; he wormed his way into your heart quicker than you’d have thought possible. You knew what drew you to him… his infectious laughter that made his chest heave with the power of it, his attention to detail and how he expressed gratitude for even the tiniest of favours. Yeonjun never took anything for granted. He could also read you like an open book– always a step or two ahead of you in anticipating your needs and wants, and fulfilling them the best he could. Yeonjun was very convincing in his methods of winning you over, and before you knew it he’d reeled you in completely.

You’d let the affair get to far, both emotionally and physically, and when you eventually let him go you could see how heartbroken he was. It was insensitive of you, but the need to protect your recuperating heart had overpowered your empathy– at least at the time. The detachment was somewhat justified and easier to deal with when he’d seemingly moved on before you even had the chance to come to terms with everything. In any case, Yeonjun wasn’t one to dwell on things, especially outwardly. Once you’d ended things, he hadn’t stopped you to ask what had caused you to break him in the way that you did. He simply… moved on. You suppose it was selfish of you to want him to have lurked around for a while after the break-up, brooding over the broken pieces like you had with Heesung.

He didn’t even ask for his stuff back– the hoodies he’d left over at your place or the gifts he’d given you. Yeonjun wasn’t petty, and it sparked a newfound respect within you– because Heesung had been his polar opposite during your break up with the former. But without Yeonjun your days felt so long; without his cute texts to get you through your day the hours dragged on. It made you acutely aware of how Yeonjun had become your emotional support in so many ways. From his random check-ins to the silly memes he sent you… your life felt oddly empty in Yeonjun’s absence. It had taken some time to wean yourself off waiting for the chime of your phone every day at around lunch, which was when he usually spammed your line and reminded you to get something to eat.

The last time you’d seen Yeonjun was weeks ago. You’d ended up in the same restaurant late on a Thursday evening and you tried your best to ignore the forlorn gazes he not-so-subtly shot you every now and then as you directed your attention to the guy sitting across from you. He was a co-worker who’d been courting you for months and although you had no real interest in him, you decided to accept his dinner invitation with the hopes of getting Yeonjun off your mind. However, even while you weathered through the ups and downs of your own life, your nonchalance and indifference towards your breakup with Yeonjun was starting to wear off. Your true feelings within had inexorably begun to show themselves.

The nagging of your ever-persistent subconscious had caused that dam of emotions to break tonight.

He looked well, laughing with his friends and moving to the music as the party kicked up. He’d grown his hair out a little, black strands now brushing low on his neck. He was dressed as casually as everyone else, yet something about Yeonjun’s frame and stance made clothes sit on him elegantly.

When you’d first arrived, you caught sight of him as you and your friends milled through the throng of dancing bodies, stopping every now and then to greet someone you knew. Yeonjun’s smile had dropped once he turned around and saw you, the pain in his eyes evident as he tried to muster a smile back onto his face for the benefit of his own cheerful clique.

Nevertheless, he hadn’t spared you a glance as he breezed past your group of friends with his own gang. You knew this was all your doing, so why did it hurt you so much? Yeonjun was just supposed to be a rebound. A rebound that got out of hand, and you had ended things while you were at his place– in his bed, wearing his t-shirt. You still remember that Saturday as if it was yesterday. You’d had a fight the previous night, but he still convinced you to stay over and bargained that you two would solve your problems in the morning. In any case, it was late, and getting a taxi at that hour would be difficult. When you woke up your fight or flight instinct had kicked in when Yeonjun raised his voice a little as the two of you tried making amends. You were so scared that things would escalate the way they had with your ex, who would get so mad and say things he didn’t mean. He would then shut you out completely and for days it would feel like you weren’t in a relationship at all. That’s why you’d ended things with Yeonjun then and there; running away had always been your defence mechanism– albeit a shitty one.

After everything that happened with Heesung you had shied away from love, running away any time it knocked at your door. Your walls were high but Yeonjun had swooped in and made a hole in your defence, planting a seed of genuine care and affection that– through your haze of mistrust– you could only view as a weed in the carefully cultivated garden of your heart.

You’d uprooted him, and only then in his absence did you realise what you’d just given away.

What you didn’t know was how much Yeonjun was suffering without you; how much he’d cried after your fall-out. He’d taken your break up as a sign that you didn’t find your relationship with him valuable– that there was nothing to fight for between you two. That thought had spiked bitterness in Yeonjun, although it was largely clouded by the love he was starting to have for you that only grew bigger in your time apart. Perhaps absence did make the heart grow fonder. Yeonjun stopped frequenting the places you two would go together, trying to exterminate the sick hope in his heart that you would somehow bump into each other. He hated how cold his nights were without you. When you would come over you’d always offer to make dinner for the both of you as long as he was on dish duty. His apartment felt draughty without the calm and warmth your soft, sleepy laughter brought. The colours of his walls seemed washed out and Yeonjun’s general outlook on life had turned bleak. It had taken him forever to snap out of that mentally and find joy in what he liked to do once more.

His friends chastised him that it was foolish to have been so trusting so quickly, but something about you had drawn him in and taken a hold of him. You were diligent and quick witted, always eager to learn and open-minded in your ways of solving problems. Yeonjun had taken note of how weary you were heading into your relationship with him, how tentative you were in reaching out to him. He’d slowly unravelled the story of what had happened to you in your last relationship and did everything he could to make you more comfortable around him. A few weeks in and he had you smiling more, laughing more and sleeping better. He didn’t want any repayment for it, other than your time and affection… and when you had taken that away he’d been distraught. He’d never expected the excuse you had given him in the flurry of your departure from his life– that all Yeonjun had been to you was a rebound. All that time, all those kisses, all you two had shared was intended to be nothing but a temporary fix to your broken heart.

But he wasn’t going to give up on love as a concept just because of one bad relationship. Yeonjun patched himself up and spent all that love on his friends, his family, and most importantly himself. Seeing you tonight stung, sure, but he wouldn’t give anyone the satisfaction of knowing that.

—

The booming music had felt invigorating at first, considering this was the first party you’d attended in a long while. But now, in the cramped bathroom face-to-face with the boy whose heart you’d broken, the thumping of the bass was steadily giving you a headache. It was turning into the kind of evening where you’d usually crave Yeonjun’s company; his patient care soothed every headache and his attentive ears listened to every rant. If you wanted any hope of having another evening cuddled up on the couch with him then you’d need to right your wrongs in the here and now.

But the expression on Yeonjun’s face foreshadowed a difficult task on your part.

“I know there’s absolutely nothing I could say to ease the pain I caused…” you started off, chancing that his features would morph into a look less judgemental. “And I can’t fix the mistake I made but-”

“Mistake?” Yeonjun asked incredulously. He fought back the hope that was blooming within him; had you really changed your mind? Yeonjun internally scolded himself for being so ready to forgive you. He wouldn’t give into you so easily in case you broke him once more.

His gaze turned icier, emotions frozen beneath the dark gloom of his irises. “C’mon, think of something more original.”

“Well, I just want to tell you that I’m so sorry,” you said, taken aback by his cold retort. You fought the tears springing in your eyes. “I didn’t deserve you from the start, and yet you overlooked that and loved me anyways.”

You were shaking with how much you were restraining yourself from crying. “Yeonjun– I was terrified. And because of that I ruined it.”

Yeonjun just watched you, eyes thawing and softening a fraction with a new emotion you couldn’t quite place. He said your name quietly, patiently– as he always did, drawing out the syllables in a manner you’d always loved.

“What were you so terrified of?” His eyes bore into your own imploringly.

“Of the way you loved me,” you explained, frustrated by your situation and the tears that had started running down your face. “Yeonjun, you– you showed me what love could really feel like. After what I went through with my ex I couldn’t seem to let anyone in and you somehow fought your way through all my inhibitions.”

“You should’ve just communicated from the start.” He huffed exasperatedly, taking his hands out of his pockets to cross them over his torso.

“I know, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled, wiping your watery eyes on the back of your sleeve. “I’m trying to learn… how to not run away.”

He didn’t say anything for a long while, and you resigned yourself to the fact that all this was too little, too late. The silence grew heavy– loud, almost– as you stared at each other. The short distance between you two felt broader when Yeonjun’s eyes became distant for a while in thought. He spoke just as you were looking for something else to say.

“So what are you trying to get at with all this? Do you want me to take you back?” His tone was steady, unlike your shaky one as you stuttered and looked down at the floor. “You caused me so much pain.”

“I know, Yeonjun,” you said, missing the way a few teardrops slipped past Yeonjun’s eyes as you weren’t looking at him anymore. “And I promise I won’t hurt you again.”

Yeonjun let out a mirthless laugh and leaned down slightly so you were at eye level. He still kept his distance. “You’re right, you won’t.”

Your heart sank at his words. The harsh, assertive tone was so uncharacteristic of him. Had he perhaps found someone else? He did deserve someone better, but knowing Yeonjun you didn’t think he’d get into another relationship this quickly.

“Are you… seeing someone?” You choked out, a lump forming in your throat. Yeonjun considered your question for a moment before shifting from his position against the door and lessening the space between you two.

“Nope. I’m not ready for that yet. Wouldn’t want to repeat the cycle of heartbreak just to feel something,” he said quietly. Your mouth fell agape at the dig. His words cut deeper than a knife, tearing right through you and leaving you breathless with how heartless he sounded. Had you really turned him into this?

“I– yes, of course. I understand,” you said as steadily as you could manage, before nodding and excusing yourself. Yeonjun slid down against the door once you had disappeared back into the party, hiding his head in his hands as he sat with his knees pressed to his chest on the floor.

Unbeknownst to you, Yeonjun was simply putting up a front to prevent you from hurting him again. In the time you’d been apart he’d begun to put up his own defences… somehow knowing that a time would come when he’d have to face you again. You couldn’t avoid each other forever. A part of him had been waiting for this moment, replaying its possible pathways in his head while he cooked or showered or took a walk. He wanted you to feel that he’d totally let go of everything you two had, just like you did.

Now that this confrontation had happened, Yeonjun wondered if proving a point had been worth it. Your sorrowful face just now was a stark contrast to your controlled calm on that fateful Saturday. Sometimes hurt, and the fear of it, turned people into who they weren’t– and Yeonjun had just made the same mistake you had months ago. His heart ached with remorse; he’d been too harsh. The way you had followed him and apologized had caught him off guard. He hadn’t been prepared to have that conversation and he’d reacted badly.

Yeonjun cursed at himself and got up on his feet, determined to find you and put an end to this back and forth.

—

You didn’t bother looking for your friends again after you talked to Yeonjun. Neither did you try find a way to get home on your own. You just moved around the party people watching, more or less on autopilot. Yeonjun’s cold words and expressionless face burned behind your eyelids, haunting you every time you closed your eyes.

A merry group of people were trying to rope you into a game of beer pong when someone suddenly hurtled into you. You weren’t really paying attention to your surroundings, and for that reason you barely had time to react when a boy came crashing into you from your side. You were knocked into the beer pong table before hitting the ground. Your reflexes saved you from landing square on your face, because your arms flew out to catch your fall. The guy who’d crashed into you apologized profusely as he tried helping you up to your feet. His friends who’d been chasing him around watched on guiltily when you winced, quickly adjusting your stance so your left foot was carrying more weight than your right. The stares from everyone around you was starting to get on your nerves, and coupled with the events of the night you were on the verge of crying again.

The boys tried leading you to a nearby couch but you declined their help and limped away from the scene as quickly as you could; you really just wanted to go home now. You had almost made it out when you nearly tripped on a rug near the landing. You’d have tumbled to the floor for the second time that night if someone hadn’t steadied you from behind.

You were going to turn around and thank your good Samaritan, if the close proximity hadn’t let you get a whiff of Yeonjun’s distinctive cologne. You froze in place, the comfort you instinctively drew from that scent had you finally breaking down completely.

Yeonjun wrapped his arms around your middle and drew you close, shushing you. “It’s okay, we’re okay, I’m here…”

“My ankle,” you managed to spit out through your tears. He hummed in acknowledgement before picking you up bridal style and walked outside, towards his car.

“Geez, what happened?” His voice was laced with so much concern as he fumbled with his pockets for his car keys.

“Someone barrelled into me by accident,” you muttered, calming yourself down by tucking your face into the crook of his neck.

“You’ll need some ice on that foot,” Yeonjun said, more to himself than to you. “I could stop somewhere and get some.”

“But Yeonjun,” you started, trying to deflect the attention. Was he actually planning on ditching the people he’d arrived with to take you home? “Your friends…”

“They’ll find their way home, it’s cool.” He set you down in the passenger’s seat before circling round to the driver’s seat. Once he got in fetched you some tissues from the back seat as you explained what happened.

“Do you want to get something to eat?” he asked quietly, reaching over to brush a few hairs away from your face. Your skin warmed up slightly at the places his fingertips brushed against.

You shook your head and laid back against the headrest, exhausted. “I just want to go home, Jjunie.”

“Hey, that’s okay,” he whispered, trying to ignore the flip his stomach did at your use of the nickname. “We’ll get you home and we can order some takeout if you’re still hungry. But first, let me check out that ankle.”

He helped you hoist your leg onto his lap, mindful not to bump it against the gear lever. The delicate way he cradled your foot as he reached for the glove compartment had any animosity you had left in you towards him dissipate. He quietly hummed a tune you didn’t recognise as he grabbed the first aid kit and took out some brand of muscle relief spray, painting your ankle in the cold liquid before temporarily wrapping it with a bandage.

Yeonjun worked in silence as you watched him patch you up. In the quiet peace of his car it felt like nothing between you two had changed– like this was just any other day when you’d have to give each other first aid after over-exerting yourselves during dance practice.

“You’re staring,” he sighed after some time, and you were about to apologise before you caught the soft smirk playing on his lips. “Am I that gorgeous, hmm?”

You laughed at him, groaning at his playful banter. “Please, spare me, Choi Yeonjun.”

He laughed with you, and you could feel the tension leaving your body. Yeonjun looked happier now than he had all night, that light he carried within shining in his eyes once more.

“I missed you,” you admitted.

“Missed you, too, runaway,” he said back with a pout. His eyes turned serious for a moment, regarding you with such profound affection, before he winked and returned his attention to his task.

“Oh no, is that my name now?” you giggled.

“Might be…” he said, earnestly. “If you stick around.”

Yeonjun’s eyes adopted a shimmering quality when he let his vulnerability seep through. It was one of your weaknesses, one of the ways he’d unknowingly won you over. His eyes sparkled with a glittering hope as he waited for your answer.

“I will.” You held out your pinkie finger and he chuckled as he linked it with his own. “This time, I will.”

“No more running away…” he whispered. The two of you had somehow gotten so close mid-conversation and you could now make out the shadow of his eyelashes against his cheeks from the party’s lights seeping through the car windows.

“No more running away, I promise,” you confirmed in a hushed tone. “I want to stay.”

“Good,” he said happily, swooping in to nuzzle his nose into your cheek. You were giggling like little kids at the action, big smiles plastered on both of your faces.

“You know… you have to seal that promise,” he chanced.

“How will I do that?” you asked, laughing at the bashful pink tint on his cheeks. “We already pinkie swore, what’s left?”

Yeonjun didn’t answer you verbally, he merely pouted his lips in your direction, stifling back a laugh as you burst out with one of your own. Nevertheless, you happily obliged once your short fit of giggles had subsided, cupping his face in your palms.

You softly pressed your lips to his, both of you sighing at the feeling you had missed so dearly. Yeonjun’s plush lips pillowed yours oh-so lovingly, his hands sneaking up your sides to wrap across your back. The kiss was slow, neither of you in much of a hurry since you had the rest of the night ahead of you to keep at this deliriously sweet pace. The two of you kept going for what felt like forever, the precious give and take of such a delicate exchange too glorious to give up. You only pulled away because the position you two were in was getting uncomfortable. You both chuckled at how you’d ignored that fact for so long, too caught up in your kiss.

“No more tears, for the both of us.” you said breathlessly.

“Agreed,” Yeonjun whispered against your lips, stealing a final kiss before he pulled away with a grin and started the car.

⚝A/N: this had so much ANGST gdhjvjfkg. still, i found this oddly theraputic and really enjoyed breaking the song down. thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed these two being dumb haha. if so, i'd love to hear your thoughts, so don't be shy to send an ask or rant in the tags :D

⚝TAGLIST: @mental-hollows @forever-in-the-sky2 @yizki @bangchansbae @woncheecks

#the weeknd series #moa week #txt fluff #yeonjun x reader #txt angst #txt x reader #yeonjun x you #yeonjun x y/n #txt x y/n #txt x you #yeonjun fluff #yeonjun angst #yeonjun soft hours #txt soft hours #txt soft thoughts #yeonjun soft thoughts

[little-diable]

Home is where your heart is set in stone - Aaron Hotchner

We all know I'm a sucker for stories with a focus on undercover operation, so I had to write one with Aaron. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: It's been weeks since their unsub has almost killed the reader, and now she's forced to join her boss on an undercover operation, as his wife. And yet it doesn't take long for her feelings to push her closer to the man she had always been crushing on.

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), p in v, age gap, typical CM violence, mentions passing out due to choking, gun violence, colleagues to lovers

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader (about 4k words)

Divider by @firefly-graphics

“How long?” Her eyes flickered between Aaron and Emily, wondering how she had ended up in this very situation. Just moments ago she had been called to his office, wondering why he and Emily wanted to speak with her without the rest of the team around. 

“At least two weeks, give or take a few days.” Aaron spoke calmly, keeping his voice emotionless as he studied her every expression tugging on her features. 

“Why me?” She had been asked to join Aaron on an undercover operation, filling in as his wife, taking on the role of the young woman that had fallen for a wealthy older man – a stereotypical story (y/n) had a hard time wrapping her head around. It wasn’t that she couldn’t see herself falling for Aaron, she had been crushing on him since she had joined the team, and yet she had a hard time giving into this very storyline. 

“You know why, (y/n). He knows you, he was close to getting you last time, he’ll try again if he gets the chance, and you fit his profile, you’re young enough to sell it to the neighbours.” Shudders ran down her spine as (y/n) thought back to the day she had almost been killed by their unsub, struggling to keep breathing through the memories rolling upon her like a thunderstorm breaking the night. “If you’re willing to do it, we’ll tell the others about it. Take some time to think it through, I know it’s-”

Emily was interrupted by the “No” spilling from (y/n)’s lips, clearing her throat before she kept on speaking. “I’ll do it, it’s time we finally catch him.”

“Good, thank you, (y/n).” 

It was still dark out by the time (y/n) left her apartment, smiling at Aaron who had been waiting for her near his car. Wordlessly he took her bags and put them in the trunk before he started the car, eyes finding hers. 

“Are you ready?” Aaron’s voice was still rough, clearly he wasn’t quite awake just yet, struggling to let go of sleep’s warm embrace, just like (y/n). It took her a moment to reply, gaze flickering back to her apartment, taking it in for the last time in days. 

“Yes, let’s do this.” For a few minutes they were surrounded by nothing but silence, wrapped around them like a comforting blanket. She had been dreading this very moment for weeks, unsure if she was prepared to take on the role of Aaron’s wife for weeks on end, hoping that her crush on her boss won’t interfere with this very situation. 

“I hope you didn’t feel too pressured to say yes to this, I can only imagine how uncomfortable this makes you feel.” Aaron’s eyes found hers, taking in the confused expression she wore, not understanding what he was talking about. “Acting as if you’re in love with me, your boss, I know it’s probably not easy, but I promise I’ll do my best to keep my distance when we’re alone.” 

“Aaron, no,” a small chuckle rumbled through (y/n), reaching for his hand before she could stop herself. Gently she squeezed his hand, smiling at the man she had been dreaming of for months, trying to imagine what a life with him may look like. “You don’t make me uncomfortable, and neither does this relationship we are taking on. I’m feeling a bit uneasy about being this close to him, that’s all.” 

(Y/n) could still remember the first time she had crossed paths with their unsub, she had been the first to arrive at the house he had bought to hide his victims, forced to live in his basement as he played sickening games with them. 

“Well, look at that, agent (y/n).” The man’s voice echoed through the dark house, ringing in her ears as if he was screaming. She couldn’t see him, had to force herself to ignore the commands Aaron screamed, rumbling through her earbud. (Y/n) should have waited for the others to arrive, and yet she had been drawn to the house, hoping that she’ll be able to free the girls that have probably lost all hope. 

“You’re even prettier in person, it’s a shame we can’t spend any more time together today.” She took a step forward, urged on by the panic filling her veins, he couldn’t slip through their fingers once again. Suddenly she felt a hand grasping her throat, forcing her against the nearest wall.

The man’s breath teased her skin, staring down on her with a smirk tugging on his lips, “Perhaps I should take you with me, I'm sure your boss wouldn’t mind sharing you with me.” Her body worked on instinct, trying to push him away, and yet she didn’t get far, his hand tightened its grip on her throat, cutting off her airstream. 

Her vision grew blurry, struggling to focus on the unsub, she’d pass out any moment now. “We’ll meet again, (y/n), and then we’ll be able to spend enough time together, I promise.” 

Aaron squeezed her hand, forcing (y/n) to let go of the memories that have tormented her for the past weeks. She could still remember Aaron’s panicked voice echoing through the air as she had woken with a gasp, staring at her boss with wide eyes. It had taken them a while to let go of this situation – not without Aaron scolding her for being so reckless – and yet (y/n) still cursed herself for freezing when she could have taken him down. 

“I won’t let him hurt you, I promise, I’ll be there, for every step of the way.” Aaron gently whispered his words, hoping that (y/n) knew she could trust him, able to rely on the man that stared at her as if she was the only star burning out on the dark firmament – even though she was all too oblivious to notice. 

“We should probably make rounds and introduce ourselves tomorrow, don’t you think?” (Y/n)’s voice filled the living room of the house they were staring in, eyes focused on the big windows. A few others were living around them, couples the team has researched for the past days, trying to get their hands on as much information as possible. They could only guess that he was living in one of those houses, and yet while they knew that he wasn’t staying in the house, they hoped that the others would share some more information the second they gained their trust. 

“Yes, I’ll go for a run in the morning, maybe I’ll meet a few of our neighbours.” A giggle left (y/n), murmuring a soft “Always the ambitious one” as she took a sip of her drink, making herself comfortable on the chair that offered a clear view onto the nearby houses. Aaron sat down next to her, keeping his distance as he thumped through the files, rereading the information both knew by heart. 

“You can go to bed, you know. I don’t mind doing the first few hours.” (Y/n) could only shake her head, she was way too riled up, too nervous to give into sleep’s call just yet. She was desperate for some kind of distraction, unsure if she’d be able to find any sleep at all in a bed she’ll share with Aaron. 

“No, I won’t be able to sleep just yet.” A deep sigh left her, eyes wandering back to the street. It had been months since her last undercover mission, months since she had been forced to observe neighbours, cars passing by and the whispers those living in a gated community shared. This wasn’t the type of lifestyle she was comfortable with, unsure how she’ll manage to come across as a woman used to living in wealth, spoiled by her rich husband. 

“We could go through our story again. Do you remember it?” He spoke all too soft, something (y/n) wasn’t used to, unsure why he was acting so different around her. It took her a moment to reply, struggling to stop her thoughts from circling around Aaron. 

“We met three years ago, when I applied for a job as your secretary. You asked me out after two months, and soon after we started dating. We got engaged last year and tied the knot this summer.” The words rolled off her tongue all too effortlessly, and even though (y/n) couldn't help but feel annoyed with a stereotypical storyline like this, she found comfort in the thought of a life shared with Aaron. She was in deep, about to drown in the ocean of lies she was swimming through, lured further into the depth of the darkness by the sirens mimicking Aaron’s call. 

“Are you comfortable with bodycontact?” The unexpected question rumbled through Aaron, forcing (y/n) to choke on her drink. 

“Uhm, yes, it would be unnatural if we wouldn’t kiss I guess.” Fuck, kissing Aaron was something she wasn’t prepared for, well aware that her heart would skip beats the second their lips touched for the first time. 

It had taken the two a few days to introduce themselves to all their neighbours, hoping that they’ll eventually share more details about their unsub. Time was fleeting, they could only pray that they’ll be able to interfere before another girl fell into his trap, forced into his basement. 

“Do you have the wine?” Both had been invited to their neighbours for dinner, allowed to join their weekly get together. She felt Aaron’s eyes on her, taking in the dress she was wearing, the lipstick gracing her lips, a small smile tugged on her lips as their eyes met in the bathroom mirror, allowing (y/n) to take in the dress shirt he was wearing, perfectly hugging his frame. 

Aaron took a step closer, hand finding her hip, lips meeting the exposed part of her neck, “You look gorgeous.” In the past few days they’ve grown closer, perfectly taking on the roles of a loving husband and wife, sharing kisses whenever neighbours were around, putting on a show for those that were too nosy for their own good. 

“You look quite nice yourself.” She turned around in his grasp, facing her smiling boss. Her heart was pounding in her chest, forcing heat through her system, a biting heat threatening to burn her from inside out, leaving its marks on her body. Marks she hoped Aaron would leave, wanting to feel his lips pressed against hers even behind closed doors. 

“Come, we shouldn’t let them wait.” Wordlessly (y/n) followed him out of their house, across the street to their neighbours home, putting on a smile as they knocked on the door. 

“Welcome, come on in!” Janice opened the door for the two of them, giggling at Aaron as he greeted her all too warmly, well aware of the way the married woman kept staring at him whenever they’d cross paths. Nevertheless, Aaron didn’t let go of (y/n)’s hand once, not as Janice’s husband greeted them, not as they sat down next to the others living closeby. 

(Y/n) had a hard time focusing on the conversation Aaron had been dragged into, mind circling around the feeling of his hand being placed on her thigh. With every passing moment, his hand moved further up her leg, squeezing her skin to calm her down, and yet his touch did everything but calm her. His touch left the fire burning in her veins, leaving her to pray that the others didn’t notice the things he was making her feel. 

“(Y/n), tell us, how did you manage to catch his attention?” Janice’s voice ripped her out of her thoughts, eyes flickering up to meet the smirk the women staring at her wore on their lips. She tensed in her seat, seemingly feeling uncomfortable with the tone of her neighbours voice, well aware that they were trying to rile her up. 

“Trust me, she didn’t have to do anything, I found myself falling for her the second she introduced herself to me.” Aaron let go of her thigh, only to place his arm on the back of her chair, keeping her as close as possible. Chuckles filled the air, a sound all too fake, and yet (y/n) found herself silently thanking Aaron, hoping that the others will leave her alone. 

“We’d all fall in love if we had a secretary like (y/n).” Another wave of uncomfortableness flushed through (y/n) at the words Janice’s husband spoke, forcing laughs from the other men. She didn’t pay attention to Aaron’s snarky reply, didn’t pay attention to the sudden change of the conversation topic, rising from her seat with a small “Excuse me”. 

The dark bathroom she found shelter in offered little comfort, and yet (y/n) knew that she’d struggle to find her way back to the dining room. Deep breaths were sucked into her lungs, eyes fluttering close as she sat down on the rim of the bathtub. 

“(Y/n)?” Aaron’s voice broke the silence she had cherished, eyes meeting his, watching the tall man step into the bathroom. “Are you alright? I’m sorry about them.” His hand found hers, forcing her to keep on staring at him. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I’ll be down in a minute.” He didn’t let go of her, pulled her to her feet before she could process what he was doing. Aaron’s warm hand reached for her chin, studying her for a second before he slowly pressed his lips against hers. The kiss was sweet, and yet it was urged on by something she hadn’t felt in years. Possessiveness, forcing her closer and closer with his hand squeezing her waist.  

“Hearing them speak about you like that, I,” Aaron was interrupted by another hungry kiss pressed against his lips, successfully shutting him up. He was the distraction she had been desperate for, urged closer like magnets finding one another. It felt as if the world around them was burning to the ground, wrapping them in a comforting embrace neither (y/n) nor Aaron wanted to break from. “Come, let’s get you home.” 

Anticipation thumped through her veins, wondering what may happen the second they’ll enter their home. Aaron guided her back downstairs, murmuring a soft “I’ll be with you in a minute” before he disappeared. Trembling legs carried her back to their house, not able to bite down her smile as she stepped into the darkness awaiting her. She felt like a teenager, excited about spending her night with her crush, wondering if the things she had imagined would finally happen. 

“Good evening, (y/n).” She froze, head snapping towards the man who was leaning against the doorframe of the door leading to the living room. “Look at you, red is definitely your colour, twirl for me, will you?”

Almost instinctively she tried to reach for her gun, cursing herself as she was met with nothing but air. His chuckles rumbled through him, hand suddenly shooting out to reach for her frame before (y/n) could even think about running, “This feels like a deja-vu, don’t you think, sweetheart?”

She was pressed against his chest, tensing as she felt the cold metal of his gun being pressed against her temple. All her panicked eyes could do was watch Aaron approach through the windows, praying that they’ll somehow make it out of this situation. 

“There he is, we were waiting for you, agent.” The door fell shut with a heavy thud and for a second the three of them were surrounded by nothing but silence. Aaron’s eyes met hers, wordlessly trying to communicate with (y/n), wondering if he had hurt her. She didn’t dare move, praying to whoever was listening that her life won’t end there and then. 

“Let her go, Jeffrey.” Her eyes flickered down to Aaron’s hand, his fingers were twitching, clearly trying to reach for something without the unsub noticing. “You won’t kill her, you’re too fascinated by her, aren’t you?”

“Just like you are, Aaron, we both know that you love her. It’s almost sad that you won’t be able to be with her. She’s mine, and I don’t like sharing.” The man tilted his head down, breath teasing her neck, murmuring the last part of his sentence into her ear. It was just a second the unsub found himself distracted, a second Aaron used to pull his gun, aiming it at the chuckling man. “You won’t be able to save her, not today.” 

“Let my agent go, now.” The unsub cocked his gun, pressing it further into her skin, coaxing a whimper from (y/n). Her eyes fluttered close, trying to prepare herself for the upcoming moments, the pain that will shoot through her, the last drops of air her burning lungs will cling to like a crying child searching for its mother. 

“I can’t do that, Aaron, she was meant to be with me.” He tightened his grip on her, forcing (y/n)’s glassy eyes open once again. She stared at Aaron, eyebrows furrowed as she almost missed the small nod sent her way. It had been months since he had last used their sign, months since she had found herself in a situation like this, nevertheless, her body forced her to move. With a deep breath inhaled into her lungs, (y/n) knocked her head back against his, using the unsubs’s moment of surprise to give Aaron enough room to shoot him, letting go of (y/n). 

“If there was one man I was meant to be with, it is him, and definitely not you.” 

“Thank you for letting me stay the night” Her voice filled the car, staring straight ahead as Aaron parked the car in front of his house. Her body was still working on adrenaline, focused on the past hours, the silent prayers rumbling through her and the pained expression tugging on Aaron’s features. 

“Of course, I’ll sleep better knowing you’re safe.” He guided her inside, glad that Jack was with Jessica, allowing the two to let go of this very day. Their bags found their way to the ground the second (y/n) pushed herself against Aaron’s chest, deeply inhaling his comforting scent. He kept holding her close, not daring to let her go, not even as he reached for her chin, pulling her in for another bruising kiss. 

“Distract me, please, Aaron.” She murmured the words against his lips, following him down the hallway to his bedroom, gasping in surprise as he pushed her against his mattress. Their lips found back together as if they were guided by a higher power, slowing down the world around them to offer the two of them enough guidance through the soaring waves of pleasure. 

“Can I?” His hand toyed with the zipper of her dress, waiting for a small “Yes” to roll off her tongue before he freed her from the confines of her clothes, groaning as his eyes took in the underwear she was wearing, exposing more and more of her body. “So gorgeous, my pretty girl.”

His praises left her moaning, trying to push her closer in need of some kind of friction. Aaron shifted his hips, growing bulge coming in contact with her core, drawing a groan from both of them. Trembling hands helped him out of his shirt, fingertips tracing his skin on their way to his trousers. Their lips met every now and then for a hungry kiss, bridging the moments when their hands worked on the pieces of clothing clinging to their bodies. 

(Y/n) was craving his touch, head thrown back in pleasure as Aaron’s mouth moved to her chest, sucking on the warm skin, leaving marks. He found her hardening nipples, showing each some love as he squeezed them in his big hands. Her whimpers urged him on to make his way down further, eyes flickering up to meet hers to watch her every reaction. 

“I need to taste you, fuck, I’ve been dreaming of doing so for months. Will you let me?” What sounded like a sob clawed through (y/n), forcing a chuckle out of Aaron that almost drowned out the desperate “Please” leaving her. She struggled to keep her legs open for him, eyes fluttering close as Aaron brushed his fingers through her slit, collecting her drops of arousal. “All for me?” 

“Yes, fuck, just for you.” Aaron sucked on her bundle of nerves, drawing another whine from her lips, forcing her hands to tighten their grip on the covers. He knew exactly how to touch her, how to take her mind off the past hours and the anxiety trembling through her body like an earthquake threatening to force the walls she had built around herself to the ground. 

Two of his fingers pushed into her tightness, spreading her walls with ease, fucking her closer and closer to her high. His eyes didn’t dare leave her pleasure drunken features, watching her teeth leave marks on her lower lip, trying to keep her moans bottled inside. Aaron kept lapping at her clit, feeling her walls flutter around his fingers as the first orgasm of the night wrecked through her, forcing her to call out his name. 

Aaron moved back up her body, kissing her so she could taste herself on his tongue. He reached for a condom, rolled it down his twitching cock and aligned himself with her heat. No further words were shared between the two lovers as he pushed into her, allowing her walls to swallow every inch. She choked on her moans, feeling fuller than ever before, struggling to adjust to him. 

“Fuck, are you alright, love?” (Y/n) needed a few moments, eyes struggling to open as her legs found their way around his hips, drawing him in even closer. 

“Yes, just fuck me, please, Aaron.” His hips met hers over and over again, forcing his cock deeper inside of her. Praises rolled off Aaron’s tongue, words she could barely focus on as her cries clawed through her, hoping that this moment would never end. Aaron rolled his hips against hers, addicted to the sweet sounds she produced, begging him to leave his marks. 

“Taking me so well, doing so good for me.” Her mind was fogged up by the clouds of pleasure he pushed through her, unable to express what he was making her feel. Soon she’d cum again, soon she'd let go with her fingernails clawed into his skin and her lips finding his. Better than any dream she had been clinging to.

Aaron’s fingers moved back down to her clit, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves, desperate to push her further towards the edge. Her vision was blurred, head dizzy, unable to focus on anything but her arising high. Their lips met seconds before she let go, moaning Aaron’s name as her orgasm rocked through her. 

He followed her down the edge, releasing himself into the condom with a groan clawing through him. She trembled beneath him, not wanting to break from the moment as Aaron slipped out of her, coming to rest next to her. He left the room, only to reappear with a warm towel, wordlessly cleaning her up with his lips finding hers every now and then. 

Only as he pulled her back into his chest did she dare to speak up, tired eyes set on his coffee coloured ones, “I meant what I said back then, I don’t want to be with anybody but you.” 

“As if I’d ever let you go again, love.”

#Aaron Hotchner smut #Aaron Hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader