Tumgik
#we were in the car so she had no escape either
resipsaloquitace · 2 days
Text
In the end, the character best served by Young Royals was Sara. This may be a hot take but, in my opinion, she was the character with the most fulfilling story arc overall, one that was fully fleshed out and had a beautiful open ending and/or beginning.
Sara went on a journey over the course of three seasons, and what a journey it was.  When we meet her she is someone who doesn't fit in anywhere including within her own family. She had suffered terrible bullying at her prior school and was suffering ostracization at her current one.  She wanted more out of life and for herself, and so she tried to change herself to fit a mold that she thought would make things better and allow her to escape. Then she begins to form true connections with others and makes a friend, and she does it by being completely honest and open. Yes, that honesty causes problems in the relationship, but she is able to mend them.  Then she falls in love and in the moment it feels wonderful but it is the start of her downfall. Sara makes a lot of very bad decisions and ends up betraying everyone she loves.
Then she put in the work to correct that, and it was messy and challenging and very realistic. Nothing she tried at first to make amends went right.  Going to the police, what she thought was the cure-all, only made things worse. Her attempt to appease Simon by following his directions and leaving only increased his resentment. Felice would barely look at her. 
Ultimately, she realizes that it's not grand gestures that matter but facing what she did and its consequences and just being there.  So she stops trying to fit into a mold and returns to being unflinchingly honest both to others and to herself. She does not try to force apologies from either Simon or Felice (unlike another character) but instead makes herself present and available to them every time, no matter what response she gets back.  Both relationships still need care and mending but it seemed clear that everyone was headed in the direction of full forgiveness. 
She faced her personal fears too. I can't imagine how hard it was for her to go to Micke for help and it demonstrated how desperate she felt. How wary and hesitant she was to trust her father because she kept expecting him to fail her again, and how devastated she was when the expected failure did indeed happen. But she realizes how so many of her actions were inspired by her terror that she would inevitably follow in her father's footsteps. But instead of that betrayal reaffirming her prior stance, everything she has gone through matures her and she understands that even if something may cause pain, that doesn't mean it isn't worth it.  She comes to understand what's actually important to her.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The best part was that Sara shared her hard-earned wisdom. She is able to give back to both Simon and Felice at a time when each is experiencing self-doubt and pain, assuring them that they were in the right. Her words were something Simon and Felice needed to hear in those moments.  And that's true of August too, who also needed to hear that the narrative he had constructed in his head was a false one, and that Sara was not here to save him from himself. Which leads to the most iconic line of all:     
Tumblr media
Prior to S3, I had hoped that Sara would learn from her mistakes and gain some maturity and wisdom and engage in self reflection. And damn if that isn't exactly what she did. 
Sara is the one who is handed the keys to freedom (the car) and who has spent the season learning and earning the skills and experience to best use that freedom.  She has come back to herself and her roots, so we hear for the very first time, her speaking Spanish. And it's words of love to family. She is ready to move to a new town and start on a different path. She recognizes that Simon wants to protect her and instead of resenting that like she did in S1, she assures him it's not necessary. 
Sara says that she will be just fine. And I believe her. 
33 notes · View notes
sunnyaelia · 15 days
Note
since you’re willing to write age gap alexia and reader: alexia keeping you a secret and you overhear her talking to someone and she basically insults you to hide that you two are a thing because she’s scared of the repercussions of dating someone so young?
Little Secret
part 2 -
“Buenos días, mi amor.” You felt Alexia’s lips kiss alongside your cheek to your nose before she pressed them onto yours, pulling away as your eyes slowly fluttered open. 
“Good morning.” You stretched, a small laugh escaping when Alexia used the chance to gently tickle you for a moment. 
“Ale, what time is it? I didn’t hear the alarm go off.” Her lips resumed their work on your cheek again, this time travelling lower over your jaw to your neck before she mumbled the next words against your skin. 
“Mhmm it’s still early, I thought we could use the extra 30 minutes for something else.” 
You were a bit later than usual when you entered the changing room that day, trying your hardest not to let your eyes wander too much over to Alexia who was the reason you were late. She had kept you in bed a lot longer than planned, as usual not satisfied until you were totally spent and you could feel your legs being a bit shaky as you sat down on the bench, already feeling the soreness creep in.
She always insisted that you two had to arrive at training at different times or otherwise people would catch on. You honestly wouldn’t mind that much but this morning it had made you annoyed since you were both later than you normally were and she still made you wait and let her leave first.
Training was eventless at first though you couldn’t help but look over to Alexia few times, struck by her doing her stretching exercises that highlighted her muscular thighs - the same thighs you had used for much dirtier things this morning. You were distracted by your own thoughts, only noticing that you had been staring when she caught you for the third time, her expression darkening as she grabbed your arm and pulled you a bit to the side. 
“Stop looking at me like that!” Her voice was hushed but strict, her eyes boring into yours intensely as she made her disdain for you right now clear. You tried not to take it personal, assuring her that you had just been checking if you were doing the drills right - though she didn’t believe you. That became clear when she literally send you off and paired you up with someone else, telling Jona that you two would work together better. She had never used her Captain status like that before, insisting that it would be unprofessional to intervene in any way solely because of the relationship you two had. You two had never openly defined whatever it was between you, never daring to call her your girlfriend since she wanted it to be private and didn’t call you hers either. Trying to shrug it off, knowing how much Alexia deeply valued her privacy you went on with training, keeping your eyes trained on the ground or talking with your training partner and good friend Jana. 
You were already in your car in the parking lot after training when you noticed that you had forgotten your jacket in the changing room in your hurry, eager to drive over to Alexia’s and spend more time with her - hoping she wasn’t annoyed with you anymore for staring a bit too much. You had thought that the others were gone already since the changing room had been almost empty when you had exited the showers earlier, having taken too long to detangle your hair. But when you came closer to the room you heard relatively loud voices from inside, the door not fully closed. 
“…you and her together or something?” That was Ingrid’s voice. 
“No! We aren’t even friends, why would you think that?” 
You frowned as you recognised Alexia’s answer, wondering who she was talking about like that, the annoyance clear in her voice as she went on. 
“She’s actually getting on my last nerve with her constant questions and stories, I wish she would just shut the fuck up finally. Not even sure why Barça ever bought her, her skills are not even close to the rest of the team, it really shows that she’s the youngest player here and lacks experience, she’s always just being annoying.” 
Oh. 
The youngest on the team was you. Alexia was talking about you. 
You cursed yourself internally for the tears that immediately filled your eyes at her words. The pure dismissal with which she talked about you - someone she usually called affectionate spanish nicknames like amor and bebita, enjoying how much you blushed whenever she did. You didn’t even know what hurt worse, to hear her say that you were getting on her last nerve and she didn’t like you after she had just spent this morning and almost every single day for the past several weeks with you, or the fact that she had just criticised your football skills and basically questioned why you were even on the team. 
You tried to keep it together as you quietly hurried away from the changing room towards your car, deciding to just leave your jacket there. You didn’t hear anymore how Ingrid defended you, though you didn’t care that much about whether she agreed or not at the moment, too hurt by what Alexia had said. The person you had trusted with your body and a lot of your stories, someone you had told about all of your struggles when you were younger and all of the problems you had went through in life. And she had thought you were annoying the entire time, probably just hoping you’d finally be quiet. Had she just used you for your body this whole time? 
Your first thought had been to confront her, to demand an answer on why she was talking about you like that after she had spent almost an hour this morning practically worshipping your body, even waking up earlier and risking being late so she could hold you a bit afterwards, knowing how much you loved cuddles afterwards. Though you decided against the confrontation as you could already barely hold it together in your car, driving off hurriedly so nobody would see you. 
You could still smell her perfume on you from the close contact to her, if you closed your eyes for a moment you were brought back into it. The way she had woken you up so gently, been so sweet and nice. Was it all just a game to her? Why would she act like this if she didn’t want you anyway? 
The longer you pondered about it the more you got annoyed with yourself for not noticing earlier that you had been played. Of course you were, there was a reason she never wanted anyone to even think that you two were even friends. There was a reason why she kept you at arm length as soon as someone else was near. There was a reason why you two had never established what exactly you were, any try at a conversation about it had been stopped by Alexia distracting you with her kisses or telling you that you’d soon be able to tell the others. 
It had apparently all been a lie. The promises of you being her girlfriend and one day her wife had been one just as much as her promising you over and over that you were good enough to play at Barça and that there was a reason they had made several offers for you. It had all been untrue, maybe she had been laughing into her pillows on the rare nights you weren’t there, giggling about how stupid you were to believe her, to trust her this much and give her your body every night, believe her when she whispered words of affection against your skin. 
The realisation hurt terribly, at some point the tears blurred your vision so much that you had to pull over for a moment. It was pathetic, sitting in your car in some McDonalds parking lot and sobbing about someone who apparently couldn’t give any less fucks about you. The thought made your tears even worse and it took over an hour until you had halfway calmed down, thanking the downpour of rain outside that nobody was able to see you sitting there crying your eyes out. 
You drove a different route than usual to avoid having to drive past Alexia’s house, not bothering to even let her know that you wouldn’t be coming over today. You usually always did and your phone was already being spammed with messages from her if you were alright and where you were. It didn’t matter, she should be grateful that you weren’t bothering her since she was apparently so sick of you and your constant talking anyway. When she didn’t stop texting and calling, you opted to let her know that you weren’t feeling well. The immediate concerned offer of hers to come over and look after you made you scoff. She was a grade A actress, that’s for sure. What was in it for her that she’d tolerate your apparently so annoying presence to check on you? 
You didn’t even bother answering, just quickly changing and laying down in bed as you tried to figure out why she’d act like she cares if she can’t even stand you. After over half an hour of brooding over it, you came to the conclusion that it must be because she’s afraid of you telling others about this relationship? Friendship? Arrangement. An arrangement you hadn’t known about, having been certain that she actually wanted you beyond your body, that she was sincerely interested in what you had said and talked about. Yes you had noticed that you usually talked more than her but everyone did, Alexia was and according to Mapi always had been, the type to just prefer listening. She had not once complained, actually encouraging you and telling you that she wanted to know more about you. Any attempt at redirecting your attention on her and find out more about her had failed. Alexia was not a talkative and vulnerable person but you had hoped that she’d open up for you after some time. Seems like the actual reason had not been that she wasn’t talkative, she just didn’t want to talk to you. 
Your vision was blurry again as you read the thread of messages from her, the little heart next to Alexia’s name feeling incredibly ironic and stupid now. You didn’t know how she had you saved on her phone but it most definitely wasn’t with a heart. Probably first and last name. Or maybe she didn’t even have your name saved at all if she found you so annoying. 
She was asking if she should come over again, clearly impatient and typing once more while you read through several 
‘don’t ignore it if you don’t feel well’
‘call in sick for tomorrow if you’re genuinely not good, I don’t want you to exhaust yourself mi amor’
‘anything specific you need? I’ll get it for you’ 
texts from her. A few hours ago you’d have swooned at the countless messages, assured that it means that she likes you a lot and wants to take care of you. Now you were certain that it was just so you wouldn’t show up at training and drag the team performance down - since you were apparently so horrible at playing anyway. Or she didn’t want you to make anyone else sick. 
When she sent another text, saying that she was coming over since you weren’t answering you were quick to reply and tell her not to, saying you’d just call out of training and would be fine. She wasn’t convinced at first until you said that she’d catch whatever you had as well and would miss the next match. That was enough for her to agree, though she insisted that you tell her if you need anything. You could only scoff, she’d probably be happy if you didn’t show up to training at all anymore. 
The next few days you called out of training, trying to cry it all out and hoping to speed up the healing process from this - honestly extremely painful - heartbreak. There was a reason why people said not to date your coworkers and you really felt the consequences of that now, stomach turning at the sheer thought of having to see her again every single day at training. You dragged it out as long as you could, though you didn’t want to affect your body and fitness negatively so after a week you decided it had been enough and you needed to go back before you got put into recovery because of a too long break. 
Alexia had texted you every single day several times, often getting impatient - you doubted it was genuine worry - if you didn’t reply in a timely manner. You wished nothing more than to block her, disappear from the team and just never speak to her again. Though you knew that as your team captain you couldn’t just block her so you’d have to deal with the consequences of your actions.
You were still cursing yourself as you walked into the changing room, shoulders slumped and an unusual amount of makeup on your face as you had tried your hardest to hide the swollen and red eyes. 
“God you look awful.” Lucy was always not afraid to say it as it is, merely getting a hum in reply from you as you dropped yourself down on the bench to change into your boots.
You didn’t notice Alexia’s gaze on you, a worried frown etched into it at how incredibly wrecked you looked. She had been put off by how you had basically ignored her the whole week anyway, though she had thought that you were just trying to rest a lot and probably asleep most of the time. Now she was more and more certain that something was actually going on with you, it was hard not to notice with how you didn’t interact with anyone, gaze firmly on the ground most of the time. You weren’t joking around with your teammates and friends either , far from the usually so happy and bubbly person you normally were. 
Alexia’s frown didn’t leave her face as she tried to figure out what the problem was. You played pretty much perfectly, seemingly not physically bothered anymore by whatever exactly you had had. She broke her own rule of not making it obvious that something was between you two when she paired herself up with you, hoping to get a closer look and see if something was wrong. Once you were directly in front of her she saw how red and swollen your eyes were, how you didn’t even meet her eyes as you kicked the ball into the goal. You ignored her attempts at striking up a conversation, mumbling something about having to concentrate. 
In the meantime you were genuinely getting irritated with Alexia, still incredibly hurt by what she had said and how she was now acting like she cared. You had tried to hide the evidence of your countless hours of crying, annoyed that it was still very visible since even she had noticed - someone who apparently couldn’t care less about you. To then have her try to start a conversation with you was even worse, only serving you to kick the ball a lot harder than necessary into the net. The only positive was that you got praised by Jona for your efforts so shortly after you had come back, only nodding in reply as the only thing your brain could focus on were Alexia’s words on how you didn’t even come close to anyone else’s skill on this team. You had already been insecure about playing among several ballon d’or winners, Alexia of all people the one to assure you that you were more than capable. To have her, a player with countless trophies, think that you weren’t good enough was a nightmare come true. 
You felt embarrassed too as you stood next to her while stretching at the end of training, knowing that she had seen you during such intimate moments. The way she had taken you apart throughout, making you beg her to let you come before she comforted you afterwards, holding you close and praising you for taking it all so well, always checking in with you and ensuring you were okay. It bothered you to no end that you had given yourself to her in every way, that she had seen you naked and vulnerable, that you had cried into her arms after you had missed a penalty during an important game. She had assured you over and over that it was fine and nobody would judge you, knowing damn well that she didn’t think you were good enough for this entire team anyway. 
It was humiliating to think about, the way you had shown her your most intimate parts, completely exposed yourself to her. She had never done any of that, had never cried in front of you, had barely opened up about anything, had shut down any conversations about her father or sensitive topics immediately. Now you knew why: she had never planned to actually let you in and start a relationship with you anyway. 
The next days were lonely as you tried to figure out how to deal with all of this. You kept a very persistent Alexia at arm length, telling her that you just weren’t feeling that well right now. It wasn’t a lie even though it was the understatement of the century. You were a wreck, feeling lonelier than ever in the country you had moved to, to be with one of the best European teams you had ever seen. All of the friends you had made here were Alexia’s as well, every single one of them had been her friend first too. They would be on her side in all of this, no doubt about it in your mind. Why wouldn’t they? They probably also found you incredibly annoying, maybe they had all thought this entire time that you talked too much and that you were too loud and too enthusiastic. The thought made you even more embarrassed and it showed. You were far from the open and bubbly person you usually were, rejecting any attempt at conversation from anyone, ignoring Ingrid and Mapi or any of the others trying to ask what was going on, not telling Lucy or Keira either who were just as concerned. You barely replied to any of Alexia’s messages who tried her hardest to figure out what was going on, not opening the door when she came over and basically running from her whenever she came close to you during training. 
It took only four days until she had enough, knocking on the door and ringing the door bell for several minutes until you finally opened, not wanting to get into trouble with your neighbours.
She was quick to push herself inside, the door still open as she stood in the doorway, planning on finally talking to you. She wasn’t stupid, Alexia knew something was wrong and she was more than willing to comfort you. But she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t also very hurt about how you were shutting her out, you usually being so quick to come to her for comfort when something was going on and it was painful to see you push her away this time. This still on her mind she wasn’t the most gentle as she started speaking, still miffed about the past few days and your constant rejection. 
“Want to tell me why you’re acting like that?” 
You had barely any reaction to her words, them being far from as painful as what you had overheard in the changing room
a few days ago. 
“Acting like what?” 
You sounded almost hollow as you answered, the several nights and days spent crying were slowly really getting to you. 
“Like this. Ignoring me? Ignoring everyone else on the team?” 
“Why do you care?” You felt exhausted, regretting having ever opened the door as Alexia scoffed at your words and crossed her arms, staring down at you, now really feeling the anger in her rise up. If she was just a little more observant, a little less focused on her own hurt feelings at your rejection of her, she might have noticed your slumped shoulders, the dark circles under your eyes and how swollen they had been these past days. In a certain angle the light from above showed the tear tracks still visible on your cheeks from the last crying session 30 minutes ago. 
“Why do I care? Maybe because you’re being incredibly rude and I’m tired of it.” 
It wasn’t the most sensitive thing to say, Alexia once again failing at staying calm, her worry as often coming out as anger as she felt helpless at your refusal to open up. She wasn’t good at this, too used
to pushing her own emotions down time and time again, her worry and love for you mixing in an unhealthy way and therefore she sounded incredibly angry instead of admitting how worried she was about you. 
You only met her with a dry chuckle, not even bothering to reply. You felt almost numb, the only thing you could focus on was her hateful words and how she had spent months deceiving you and acting like she cared about you. Or maybe she hadn’t deceived you and you were just that unlikeable. 
A small push to your shoulders made you look back up at her. 
“Don’t ignore me! I want to know what’s going on, now.”   
“You made it quite clear that you prefer it when I’m quiet. Shouldn’t you be happy I’m not saying much?” 
She frowned, completely lost on what you meant and about to ask but you continued before she could. 
“I heard what you said in the changing room. To Ingrid. About how annoying I am and how I’m not good enough for the team, how you wish I was quiet.” 
Alexia’s eyes widened as she realised, remembering the conversation with Ingrid. The one where the Norwegian hadn’t bought a word she had said anyway. You had not only missed the black haired girl fiercely defending you but also how Ingrid had seen right through Alexia and told her that she knew what was going on between the two of you. She had warned her to be careful with her words, telling her Captain that you might overhear and misunderstand - not knowing that that had already happened. 
Alexia reached for your hand as she tried to bring her thoughts in order so she could explain but you moved away from her, crossing your arms so she couldn’t touch you. 
“I want you to leave. Don’t text me again.” 
“No, amor por favor I didn’t mean any of tha-“ 
“Save it.” Your words had a lot more bite in them now, you felt the anger in you rise up quickly. The sheer audacity of fooling
you like that, playing with you like you were some toy and then even talking about you like that to others - and not just anyway, to people you were also friends with. 
“I don’t want to hear it Alexia, leave.” 
“Please, just give me-“ 
“GO!” 
You had never yelled at her before, you would have never dared to either, the older woman with the stern face and firm voice way too intimidating for you. But you couldn’t care less right now, finally deciding to stand up for yourself as you were still convinced that she had just played with you this entire time. You pushed at her, something that would normally not move the way taller woman at all. You caught her off guard however, the few steps she stumbled back enough to close the door in her face. You ignored the ringing and knocking this time, moving away from the door to bury yourself in your bed as sobs wrecked through your body. As much as it hurt to hear her begging you to open the door and hear her out, nothing hurt more than knowing that you had given your heart and body to the wrong person. 
1K notes · View notes
adventuringblind · 7 months
Text
Baby Daddy
Lestappen x Reader
Genre: Smut
Request: Yes and I did this happily because it came from the best (Would have been happy either way but that just makes it better)
summary: Charles and Max decided to see who can get reader knocked up first.
Warnings: Breeding kink, PinV, vomiting, double penetration, teasing, praising+degrading
Notes: The author liked this one. The author will now be jumping in holy water.
masterlist
The following media is not intended for minors. Please don't interact if you're under the age of 18.
Tumblr media
She wasn’t sure how the conversation started. She knew both boys wanted to start a family, and she was in the height of a baby fever that she can’t escape from. So, asking about it made sense.
Not that they were mad. Of course not. They just couldn’t decided who would be the one to be the biological father.
“I think we should make it a competition.” Max’s smug face makes her pale. It’s never a good sign when he brings up that word.
“Winner gets to choose the order of out last names.” Charles demands. Another argument they’d been having recently.
“What about me?! I’m the one who’s carrying the baby!”
“You can choose where yours goes no matter who wins.”
“Sounds fair to me.” She smiles with satisfaction. At least she knows there is an ungodly amount of good sex coming her way.
~
Three months of trying. She was sore after every race. not for the reasons of her lovers. But because of what they to do her. their competitive spits had yet to falter. Much to her benefit and pleasure.
Six months of trying and she was starting to lose confidence in herself. Her doctor said she’s fine, but it doesn’t stop the stupid thoughts because all three of them want this entirely to much.
A year and she’s given up on thinking about it. They are obviously still trying, but it’s not something that she talks about much anymore. She knows that it takes longer for some and she’s okay with that. She just avoids the subject as much as possible.
~
The night Max wins his second championship title is about how’d you expect it to be. Except for the part where him and Charles are in the corner with the tiniest bit of alcohol in their drinks.
They eye her in that stupid dress she knows they love, dancing rather suggestively with Kika and Lily. She’d been staying away from alcohol as of late so they know she’s not even close to tipsy. Yet the look on her face as she dances could make anyone think she was.
‘I think we should get out of here before we do something stupid.” Suggests Charles without breaking his gaze.
“Like what?”
“Take here right here and now.”
The boys startle her as they drag her away from her friends. She hardly even registers they are in the car going to the hotel. “Did I do something wrong?” The sincerity in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed.
Max leans down to whisper in her ear. “Just thinking about getting this dress off of you."
Charles runs his fingers along her thighs, causing her to shiver. His mouth finds the crook of her neck and lays gentle kisses down to her collar bone.
She feels for the taxi driver. The poor man is subjected to whatever is happening in his back seat.
"Gonna take you home and put a baby in you." The Monegasque moans into her skin. It was making her feel in a way that had her squeezing her legs together.
They continued riling her up the entire way back to their hotel room. Even getting hands in the elevator and in the hall, which was thankfully empty.
Max gets the door to the room open. Then, the two males waste no time litterally ripping the dress off of her. Her clothes are gone in seconds.
Their hands are everywhere she doesn't want them. She's left squirming beneath their hold. Pinned to the bed in a way that leaves her more vulnerable. Every peice of herself exposed to them.
And they know exactly what they're doing.
Max runs a single finger over her slit. "Look, Charlie, I think she wanted this."
"Already so wet for us chéri." Charles moves from where he was attacking her neck down to her tits and attacks them instead. His tongue doing a number on the sensitive area.
Max slips a finger inside of her. To slow for her liking. She tries to buck her hips to get more friction only for Max's unoccupied hand to put more wait on her hips. "This is what you get for teasing us in that dress."
"Mm Maxy, think about how she'd look in the dress all swollen with our child." Charles hands barey touch her stomach, and yet it still has her back arching.
Max jumps off of her and is immediately pulling Charles up with him. He gives her a pointed look and tells her to stay.
And then their hands explore each other. Peeling each piece of clothing off the other in record time.
"If you're trying to get me to cum now to you have an advantage, it's nit going to work." Charles says as Max rolls his eyes and stops any movement he was making.
"I have an idea." Max mumbles.
"That's never a good sign."
"Well fine! I guess you don't want to hear how we could make this even."
The female looks between the two bickering and is interested in what he has to say. But also scared. Scared the she won't be able to walk for a week.
And she's right because soon enough, she is lying back against Charles with his cock inside of her. She can't stop moaning as Max leans over the top of them.
Even. She officially hates that word. And yet here she is being turned on by the fact that both boys will be inside her at the same time. Fingers crossed, they don't rip her open in the process.
"You sure you wanna try this?" Max looks at her for approval, and even with her initial fear, she knows they would never hurt her.
"Just go slow, please."
Max starts slow. Charles bites into her shoulder at the friction of her and Max. She can feel all of his muscles tensing underneath her as Max takes his sweet time pushing into her.
It hurts. She knows it won't in a couple of minutes. But right now, the stretch if it all burns like white hot fire.
When both are in her, they take care to help her relax until her body adjusts to the size. They wipe away her tears as she sinks into their hold.
"So good for us, amour. Taking both of us so beautifully." Charles exhales a breathy moan as if to further prove his point.
"Fuck schat, you look so pretty taking us so well."
And then everything went fuzzy. The friction of the two males was too much. Moving in and out in tandem; perfectly in sync with each other. Her thoughts seemed to be replaced only with them. Their breathing, the sounds, the feeling of skin on skin.
"Dobyou want it, schat? You want us to put a baby in you?"
She can't actually speak properly, but there is definitely a yes that can be heard in her moans.
Their praises are only pushing her closer to her breaking point. "I'm- please- I can't."
She doesn't even have time to warn them. She can't warn them. She can't hear them either. Her nails are buried in their skin.
They spill into her simultaneously. Their bodies are perfectly connected with each other. It feels overwhelming and terribly beautiful. The feeling of them spilling inside of her at the same time.
When they come down from the high is the hard part. Max slides out first, and Charles follows, slowly and gently. They collapse in a heap of exhaustion. The emotional tie and physical tie completely took their energy.
"Do you think maybe this time...?" She trails. Her question weighs on them.
"In time, mon amour. We'll still be here even if it's not."
~
Summer break is a time to recuperate. The three of you are on summer vacation, spending time together on the beach.
That night had been a month a half ago. The female had yet to realize she was late to her cycle. Opting to ignore it and assume she's just messed up for some reason.
The second to last morning of their trip, she woke up feeling absolutely terrible.
She snuck out of bed as quickly as she could without waking the boys who are much heavier sleepers than her anyway.
The nausea feeling was overpowering, and it didn't matter how stealthy she was. They woke up to the sound of her spilling the contents of her stomach.
And then every day after the the point everyone is concerned.
Two months and still no period, she finds herself at the doctors. The boys are back to racing, but with her state, she decided to stay in Monaco.
A decision she was now regretting while having the test from the doctor in her hands.
She is definitely pregnant this time. The paper in her hands says it clear as day.
It is only Friday. She has time to get out to the race to surprise them. And with that idea floating in her head, she calls Pascale.
~
Her and Pascale arrived to the track fifteen minutes into the race. The older woman is making a fuss over her as she tries to jog to the redbull garage. She was in Ferrari last time, and Redbull is closer to her anyway.
Pascale shakes her head as she watches the female slip into hospitality.
~
Max and Charles both made podium. She was absolutely ecstatic and even more so that Christian helped her get to where they would park.
They didn't notice her at first, even doing a double take at her and then each other. Then, with their helmets off, they ran to great her.
Their smiles were so big that she thought they might fall off.
They both attempted to embrace her through the divider, and she was able to slip her test results into the hand of Charles.
They looked at her skeptically before once again, having to leave her.
It wasn't until the cooldown room that they had a chance to look. Charles tentatively unfolds the paper and holds it out on front of him and Max.
The cameras got a lovely picture of the two hugging very tightly despite being 'rivals', and the happy tears from Charles could be made out even through the sweat.
Did it have people looking at the scene a little funny? Yes. She could hear the gasps of disapproval, but she didn't care. The teams know already and gave them the go-ahead over a year ago to make the relationship public.
She watches them with love and adoration.
~
"Definitely mine."
"No way! The baby will look like me!"
She rolls her eyes at the two. "Does it matter?" They look at her with mouths agape.
She is actively holding the paper that determines who wins. The paper that will tell them who the biological father is.
And she rips it.
Because no matter what, they are a family. The boys are looking at her endearingly despite the fact that she just took away their results. Because it doesn't matter. They are making their own little family and they couldn't be happier.
So, the argument of the last name order continues one.
1K notes · View notes
woso-dreamzzz · 29 days
Text
Mimic
McFoord x Baby!Reader
Summary: You're definitely Katie's child
Tumblr media
Hiding the pregnancy had been difficult.
Caitlin had picked up an ankle injury around the same time as she started to show so it was easy to write it off as long-term, hunkering down in the house like some kind of hermit.
Hiding you away for a year had been even harder.
Some fans were eagle-eyed and as a result, you were never posted on any social media. You didn't even come to training. You'd never met any of the Arsenal girls in person at all even though you were approaching eighteen months.
Which was why it was so shocking for everyone involved when Katie got out of the car for a home match against Manchester City with a child on a backpack leash.
As soon as you are on your feet, you attempt to escape but Katie tugs on your leash to stop you in your tracks.
You give her a foul look in return before you're plucked into Caitlin's arms.
The crowd watching the players arrive all scream out questions as they walk inside.
"It's nice to finally meet the little one," Kim says pointedly as the two of them arrive in the locker room.
"You've seen her before," Katie replies.
"Over the phone doesn't count," Kim says," She's a little cutie. You must be proud."
Caitlin watches you from the corner of her eye as you methodically rip everything out of her cubby and throw it on the floor. "Something like that."
"She's just like me!" Katie's been waiting for ages to be able to brag about you so she's lapping up all the attention.
"She has a bit of a temper," Caitlin confesses when Katie runs off to show you to everyone else in the changing room," Definitely gets that from Katie.
"We didn't expect to see her today..."
"Babysitter cancelled. There were no other options. We'll probably just tie her leash to a post and call it a day. She'll wander around otherwise."
"She's restless?"
Caitlin winces. "Feral might be the word. I love her but...Katie calls her a gremlin sometimes."
Kim looks past Caitlin to where you're now chewing on Katie's fingers, methodically biting down on each one as she introduces you to everyone.
"Well...she's certainly Katie's..."
Caitlin laughs. "Don't I know it."
You're being surprisingly tame today, for what it's worth, even as you try to make another break for it. You're yet again pulled back by your kiddie leash and Caitlin is left to marvel over just how steady you are on your feet.
It had been hard hiding you from the fans and even harder to not fold and continue to keep you away from their teammates. That second one wasn't even planned but you'd come out a little sickly and spent a few weeks in hospital.
It was enough to cause Katie to put the entire house on lockdown for months after your birth when getting chest infections became your norm.
By the time you were healthy and fit and coming into your own personality, it was too much of a risk to bring you to practice with all of the cameras around.
Either way, it's all ruined now because Caitlin knows the videos of you walking in on your kiddie leash are all over Twitter.
The cameras are all pointed towards you as Caitlin walks out onto the bench to start the game. Katie crouches down next to you, littering kisses all over your face as you giggle.
"I'll see you in a bit, gremlin," She says," You be good for your Mummy."
You garble out a few noises that Katie repeats back to you with a soft smile.
"You know," Steph laughs," Now that she's been spotted in the wild, you don't have an excuse for Sam and her kid to meet her. I hear her Chook's getting bored of waiting."
Caitlin sighs deeply as you slam two of your blocks together to show Leah the noise they make. "I don't think the world could take it if Sam's Chook and our Gremlin met. It's too much rough play for any pair."
"I think you underestimate Sam's Chook. I heard she's been very helpful and careful since Sam hurt her knee."
"It's not Chook I'm worried about." Caitlin tilts her head towards you where you've started to amuse yourself by kicking Leah's shin, giggling every time your little foot makes contact.
You head whips around as your watch your Mam get tripped nearby, landing with a thud.
You screech loudly and go to march towards her, grumbling and frowning as you go. You're stopped by a tug on your leash and a pointed look from your Mummy.
You recognise that look and point over at where your Mam is dusting herself off. "Fell," You say to Mummy," Mam fell."
Caitlin has to suppress her laughter. You've got a curious blend of hers and Katie's accents. Sometimes you sound fully Australian like Harper when you speak but other times it's like Caitlin gave birth to a mini Katie because your inflection is exactly the same as hers.
You sound like Katie now. You look like her too, hands on your hips and face like thunder.
"Your Mam did fall," Caitlin says as she pulls you closer," But she's gotten up now. She's fine."
You don't look convinced as you throw a nasty look over at the referee who did nothing against the clear foul.
"Do you remember my friend Steph? You met her on the phone before? Can you say hi?"
"Hi!" You chirp, giving her a beaming smile that shows off the teeth you have.
It's kind of funny to reconcile this beaming, happy version of you with the one that was screeching at the ref just minutes ago.
"Hi," Steph coos," It's very nice to meet you in person."
You're still smiling as you nod, bouncing on your feet as Caitlin digs around in your backpack. You seem to know what time it is because you turn that beaming smile from Steph to your Mummy.
"Bottle?" You ask hopefully and Mummy rewards you with a bottle full of milk that you hastily shove into your mouth.
You sit down at her feet as you chug your drink. Mummy runs a soft hand through your hair as you take a break and lean into her, wiggling back until you hit her legs.
You turn to smile at her and she smiles back.
Your drink is all empty in a little bit and you focus back on the football match in front of you. You clumsily climb to your feet in outrage when the referee shows your Mam a yellow rectangle.
You don't exactly know what it is but you know it's bad and you don't like it being shown to your Mam. You screech and throw your bottle, stamping your feet.
"No!" You say loudly and the bench behind you bursts into laughter," No! No! Bad! Bad referee!"
Caitlin buries her head in her hands as she tugs firmly on her leash when you attempt to run onto the field to give the ref a piece of your mind.
"She's definitely Katie's," Steph howls through her laughter.
785 notes · View notes
wonysugar · 4 months
Text
fuck you stupid | ning yizhuo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
synopsis : you thought you’d seen it all with her, but no, she somehow managed to surprise you even further.
pairing : bimbo!ningning x fem!reader
genre : bffs to... fwb?? idk they just fuck,, so obviously smut too! xx
tags : yall got lost help, fingering, degradation, belittling, dumbification, car sex, she's so stupid but she fucks you good so it's okay, very slight cunnilingus, she slaps you like once so impact play!
warnings : none!
word count : 1.6k
Tumblr media
you, y/n l/n, weren’t exactly smart, but you also weren’t exactly stupid. like yeah, you weren’t a genius per se, but it’s not like you were brain dead either. average was the term you always used to describe your intelligence.
you unfortunately couldn’t say the same about ning yizhuo, your best friend. 
you loved her, like that’s your bitch, of course you love her! however, you’d be lying if you said that she was intellectually capable, because she just wasn’t. god, she was just so, so painfully stupid?? clumsy??? careless???? all of the above applied when it came to this woman. not even to be mean or anything of the sorts, just, yknow… natural selection at its finest.
she was aware of that, though, and even thrived in being the self proclaimed bimbo everyone knew and loved. (to which you wholeheartedly agree with, by the way) and honestly? you just couldn’t stop teasing her about it whenever you two hung out. things similar to “stupid hoe” and “dumbass” always escaping your mouth as you two laughed, probably moments after she bumped onto something on the sidewalk whilst spilling all the tea to you. 
in summary, she’s done stupid shit before, but nothing, nothing could ever top what she had done that day.
the day she got the both of you lost in some random parking lot at like, 2 am.
“ning, we’re fucking lost.” you told her, eyebrows furrowed in frustration as you watched her giggle nervously.
she grabbed her cellphone and hovered her finger over the power button, “oh come on y/n don’t be like that, i can just go on google maps and we’ll be out of here in no ti-“
a black screen.
she cleared her throat hesitantly, sighed, then pressed the button again.
nothing.
she kept doing that, giving longer presses to the side of her phone in hopes of a miracle . your patience was running thin and you were quite frankly not far from panicking.
after the 27th-ish try, you finally snapped at her.
“fucking hell ning do you not charge your damn phone??” 
“sorry that i forgot to?” 
oh she had to be joking. 
“girl oh my god what the fuck?? we’ll stay stuck here for only god knows how long and it’s all gonna be because ‘ning yizhuo forgot to charge her phone beforehand’ for fuck’s sake.” you closed your eyes and pinched the bridge of your nose in exasperation. trying to calm down, you ignored ning’s gaze.
her stupid annoying yapping wasn’t helping at all. like, at all.
“oh so we’re once again blaming me, got it. y/n you didn’t even bring your own phone, how do you have the audacity to put the blame on me.” she said back, her eyebrow raised up as she threw her phone down on her skirt, sighing exasperatedly. 
“because someone told me it was her turn to get the aux.”
“where in that sentence did i ever tell you not to bring your phone??”
“god, ning just- just stay quiet. okay? just- please shut up, i’m trying to think. we can’t rely on you for anything.” you told her, exasperated.
in response, she scoffed, “no?? no i won’t, actually. you’re always putting the blame on me and it’s seriously starting to piss me the fuck off. yeah i’m a bimbo, whatever, but does that mean that you have to talk to me like i only have two barely functioning brain cells??” 
“oh please, saying you have two functioning brain cells would be wayy too generous. you’re always doing the stupidest shit out of the two of us. i mean fuck, you literally drove us here, in the middle of nowhere. you’re not a bimbo, you’re just fucking dumb, ning.”
when you looked back at her, she seemed hurt. like, 
a wave of guilt quickly washed over you upon seeing her pained, pained expression. she looked into your eyes, frustration and sadness clearly showing into her own. yeah, she looked pissed. you wanted to apologize almost immediately, and you were going to, 
if she didn’t suddenly press her lips onto yours before you could even get a word out. 
-
how do best friends make up after a fight?
usually, they talk it out, they go out, hug it out then get milkshakes or whatever, hell, sometimes they just go a day or two without talking then eventually forget about it.
this? this was none of that.
since she planted a kiss on your lips, you, instead of doing anything stated above, were fucking.
like, yeahh you were still lost, but at least you were getting your pussy ravaged. the situation could be handled later; when you weren’t drenched.
throwing your head back as you moaned out ning’s name, you were straddling her in the backseat of her car, feeling her two fingers deep inside you and stretching you out. she looked up at you with lustfully hooded eyes as she kissed and left very visible marks all over your neck, all the way down to your collarbone, her free hand fondling your tits, lazily playing with the nipple. 
“f-fuck ning keep going i’m sososo close- fuckfuckfuck..” feeling yourself getting pushed closer to the edge by the friction you felt, you bucked your hips faster onto her digits. the knot tying in your stomach felt like it would’ve snapped any second now, that is,
until she stopped moving her fingers altogether.
frustrated, you whined loudly, “ninggg please let me cum pleaseplease-” 
“oh yeah? so now you wanna rely on me for something, and it’s to make you cum?” she laughed. “fucking slut. i’ll make you cum whenever i want to, got it, bitch?” she added, pressing her thumb on your swollen throbbing clit, smirking condescendingly and watching how pretty you looked when pleasure contorted your face.
you unintentionally clenched at her words, nodding shamefully. it was embarrassing enough having your best friend knuckles deep inside of you, having her call you names and whatnot, but the real embarrassing part? 
enjoying it thoroughly.
she knew this, she knew she had you wrapped around her finger at that moment and oh was it such a power trip for her. seeing you be so needy for her touch, you almost started riding her fingers yourself, too. she was always the one being treated like a dumb bitch, it was nice being on the other side of things, for a change. 
she kept twisting and pulling on your nipple with her free hand as she slowly started to slide her fingers up and down your walls again, giggling and paying close attention to how your body shook and twitched at each and every one of her slow movements. what a sight to see. 
“you like being fucked stupid hm?”
and that’s what she did,
seconds,
minutes,
what felt likes hours,
you were sloppily bouncing and grinding on her fingers, speed ranging from a painful slowness to an overwhelming rapidity. 
you gripped her arms tightly, as if you would fall into some sort of void if you didn’t hold onto her for dear life. resting your head on her shoulder, you whined, losing yourself onto her. her fingers were still pumping in and out of you at that moment, faster than they were before, by the way, so it took you all of your body strength to not just cum right then and there, but you managed to hold back. for her, you held back and took all of it. every minute passing, every single motion feeling like it was threatening to make you go insane. 
“ning pleaseplease let me cum i wanna cum so badly fuck- pleasepleasepleasepleaseee-” you begged, looking down at her with pleading teary eyes.
“fuck, look at you. calling me a dumb bitch all the time, yet here you are, acting oh so stupid for my fingers. such a brainless needy little whore for me, hm? does my idiotic, pretty girl wanna cum?” 
you nodded eagerly as you whined, tears actively running down both of your cheeks, so desperate for release that you quite honestly didn’t care for how ridiculous you looked to her at that moment. you just wanted to cum, so, so, so badly, and you were ready to give up your dignity for it.
the sound of her hand slapping your cheek resonated in the car.
“say it. you know damn well i don’t accept pathetic sounds for an answer.”
“fuck— your idiotic pretty girl wants to cum pleaseee let her–”
she hummed, smirking at your response. incredibly amused by your behavior, she took her fingers out of you, picked you up by placing her hands on your thighs, then gently put you on the empty seat that was next to the one she occupied. upon seeing you sat comfortably, she proceeded to kneel down on the empty space between the front seats and the backseats. y’know,
the ones a grown woman couldn’t possibly fit in?
it’s okay though, like, yeah she would most definitely complain about back pain later, but right now?
she needed to feel you cum all over her tongue.
and that’s exactly what she worked towards, her tongue driven by the scent of your arousal to roam all over your folds and clit, kissing and sucking on every inch of your core as she attentively listened to all the sweet noises that came out of you. it really did not take long before your moans reached octaves you didn’t even know you could achieve before, an overwhelming wave of relief hitting you like a truck. you were 100% sure you would pass out afterwards.
at the end of the day, yeah, you both were still stranded in the middle of some unknown parking lot, but at least, the stress of it all evaporated in the air.
while you were trying to catch your breath, you made a mental note;
never underestimate ning’s intelligence when she was in a bad mood! or, do. depending on if you wanna get fucked stupid that day or not.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
samandcolby-ownme · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Summary: While at a party with friends, you run into your old 'situationship' and things take a turn for the.. good.. or bad? Find out in this weeks one shot!
Inspired by Zayn - Like I Would | not a request
Summary: SMUT18+, strong language, mentions of smoking weed, alcohol consumption, cheating on partner (which you should NEVER do), secret and rough unprotected sex, oral (f rec), hair pulling, biting, scratching, teasing, just filth
Word count: 5.7 | not edited
╔═══━━━─── • ───━━━═══╗
"Have fun tonight." Your boyfriend, Theo, smiles, "Call me if you need a ride home."
You lean of the window, pecking his lips with yours, "I will, thank you." You smile and sit back, waving to him at your friend, Kya, backs out of the driveway.
"So." She says with a smirk as she starts to drive, "Seems to be going well, don't you think?"
You shrug, a light blush growing on your cheeks, "You can say that." You shrug, "I mean, these last few months, they've been great, but at the same ti-"
"Don't do that." She cuts you off as she shakes her head.
You look at her confused, "Don't do what?"
"Don't do what you always do. Don't look for things to escape. Theo is a great guy.." she lays her hand over her mouth, muffling her words, "Better than the last."
You laugh as you catch what she says, "Yeah, let's not talk about him." You roll your eyes, trying not to think about him, "Theo is a great guy."
"That - whatever that was.." she blows air, "Situationship.. was an absolute disaster." She tills her eyes, "If I see him, I might just punch him."
"Please. It might knock some common sense into him." You shake your head slightly, "He was just an asshole."
But he wasn't a total asshole the whole time.
You felt like there could have been more, should have been more, but he didn't want labels. He didn't want to 'settle down' as he said.
He treated you like a queen, but only when it was just the two of you.
When you confessed that you were catching feelings, mainly to try and save your feelings, which utterly failed in the end, he turned into someone you never thought he would be.
A ghost, figuratively that is.
You didn't hear from him for weeks after, but conveniently right when word got out that you were seeing Theo, you got a text from him, stating a single, ‘Hey’.
But you ignored it.
You had a good thing with Theo, but at the same time, you weren't feeling the passion, the heat, like you were with him.
You knew it was wrong, but you couldn't pinpoint the exact reason as to why you were suddenly missing him, either.
Maybe because what you and him had was secret?
Maybe because it was mainly about sex, and he was really, really good at it?
Who knows, but you needed to get him off of your mind as soon as possible, especially because you want things to progress with Theo.
"Do you think he'll be here tonight?" You look over at Kya and she shrugs, "Doubt it. He's probably leading on some other bimbo-" she looks at you, quickly following up, "Not that you were or are a bimbo, I just-"
You hold your hand up, "I understand, Ky." You laugh slightly, "But I was for falling for him. I should have known."
"We live and we learn." She parks the car, "Now let's go have some fun." She raises her brows as she pulls the keys from the ignition.
You follow her in through the gate, eyes scanning over the slow growing party.
You smile as you see some of your friends, waving as you dance next to them as you move past to make your way into the house.
"You made it!" Leslie squeals as she runs up to you and Kya, "I'm so glad you're here!"
"Thanks for the invite! We love your parties." You smile and look around. She laughs, "Thanks. I love throwing them."
"I'm going to go get a drink, y/n. You coming?" Kya taps your arm and you look at her, "Yes, please."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
A few drinks and bit of unwinding later, you're sat on the small couch in the corner with a few friends around you.
"Y/n." Leslie nudges your knee from the floor, "How's Theo?" She smirks and the others lean in to listen.
You smile, "We're good. He’s good.." You take a sip of your drink, almost spitting it back into your cup when you see him walk through the door.
"Shit." You whisper to yourself and quickly look around, composing yourself as fast as you can, "Yeah, he's taking me to dinner on Thursday for our five month anniversary."
"That's so sweet." Leslie smiles and lets out a sigh, "I remember when Chase and I first got together, that honeymoon phase never goes away when you're in love with someone you truly love being around everyday."
You kind of ignore them talking. Your focus was mainly on him. You watch as he walks over to the drink area with his friends, smiling that gorgeous smile and laughing that perfect laugh.
He was such a beautiful work of art, and knowing that you couldn't have it actually kind of hurt even more.
You snap back into reality, reminding yourself that you have Theo, and you really liked Theo.
Not as much as him - stop it.
You shake your head, looking over at Kya to try and figure out what they're talking about.
"Isn't that right, y/n?" Kya asks and you blink, "Sorry." You laugh, "What are we talking about?"
"Someone is feeling the alcohol already." She jokes with a laugh, "We were talking about that show that you recommended us. We all love it so far."
"Good Girls? Oh yes. That show is amazing. I'm sad they aren't coming out with another season, they left it with a cliffhanger and I'm still so mad about it." You laugh, taking a sip from your cup.
You finish your drink and rest your arms in your lap, "I'm going to get a drink, anyone else need one?"
"Yeah get me one please." Kya hands you her empty cup and you nod, "What were you drinking?"
"Just get me whatever you're drinking."
You nod and get up, walking over to the drink section. You pour in some liquor, more in your cup than Kya's, before adding some juice.
"Well, well, well."
You close your eyes, taking a quiet deep breath as you set the jug down onto the counter, "What do you want, Colby."
You stay facing away from him, knowing that if you look into his eyes, it'll all go downhill from there.
You tilt your head, thinking that maybe you should. Maybe now's your chance to finally give him a piece of your mind for hurting you.
"Just came to get another drink." He moves next to you and your eyes move over his hand that's rested on the counter as he pours some alcohol into his cup.
"So hey. What's up?" He turns and you look up at him. He chuckles as he takes a sip of his drink, "It's been a while, I know."
"Glad you're aware of that." You raise your brows, picking up the two cups.
"Alright.." he shrugs, ".. Talking about it really isn't my style, but I th-"
You cut him off, "No. no. I'm not.." you sigh, "I have a boyfriend now, Colby."
"I'm aware." Colby sips his drink, "How is Theo, by the way?"
"He's great, actually. I'm super happy with him." You cross your arms, cups still in hand and Colby raises his brows, "Glad to hear it."
You roll your eyes, "what do you really want Colby?" It doesn't occur to you that you already asked him that until it leaves your lips.
"I just thought I'd see what's up, but.." he walks over to you, "I'll just leave you to think about what I really want while I'm lighting up." He winks, taking a few steps away, stopping to turn, "If you still do that, you know where to find me."
"I stopped." You say loud enough for him to hear him. You turn, walking in the opposite direction, "Right when you broke my heart."
You walk back over to your group and Kya sighs, "I was about to send a search party for you. Jesus, I thought you got lost." She sips her drink, groaning as the alcohol touches her tongue, "So good."
"So what did I miss?" You lean back against the couch and look forward, immediately feeling your stomach flip when you see Colby sitting in the patio chair, directly outside of the glass door with the perfect view of you.
Fucking hell.
You pull your phone out, completely ignoring what the girls are filling you in on as you text Theo, Miss you. Wish you were here.
You rest your phone in your lap, crossing your one leg over the other, "No, I seen Janessa the other day, she definitely looked like she had a ring on her finger."
"See! I wasn't the only one!" Leslie says nudging the girl next to her, "Did it look like a big rock?"
You hold your hand out, rocking it back and forth, "Eh. It was a decent size."
Leslie sighs, "All that money and he couldn't afford a decent ring." She scoffs, "I swear if I don't have a big diamond on my hand when the time comes." She laughs, "Kidding. Kidding."
You laugh slightly, running a hand through your hair as your eyes move up to look at Colby again. His eyes are glued on you as he slowly brings the blunt to his lips, inhaling the smoke as he pulls it away.
You want to look away, but this obnoxiously strong hold he - still - has on you, won't allow it.
He tilts his head back, slowly allowing the smoke to leave his lips.
Your phone vibrates in your lap and you tear your eyes away to look down at it. You smile slightly as you read over Theo's text, Miss you too, baby. How's the party going?
You tap the screen, it's alright, just sitting with some friends, nothing too exciting.
You set your phone down, taking a drink. Kya moves in close to you, "I don't.." she clears her throat, lowing her voice to a whisper, "I don't mean to alarm you, but he's here."
"Who?" You play dumb.
She tilts her head, eyes moving in the direction of Colby, "Mr. Situationship." She mumbles through gritted teeth.
"Shut up." You act surprised, "Where?"
"Patio. Smoking with Sam and the others." She lays a hand on your knee, "Are you okay? Do you want to move? Leave? Whatever you want to do."
You lay your hand on hers, "Ky. I'm fine. Promise."
"If you say so." She mumbles moving away. Her attention is quickly taken away by the song that's playing, "Oh I love this song. Come on. Let's dance."
She finishes her drink, looking at you to finish yours. You down your drink, setting it down before standing up.
You couldn't lie, you were feeling pretty good and there was only one person you really wanted to be around right now - And it wasn't the person answering your texts.
Kya takes your hand, lifting them up as she moves her body to the song with a laugh, "I feel so.. happy right now."
"That's the alcohol, my love." You smirk and dance with her, laughing as she dances back to back with you.
Your eyes move to find Colby, who is still sitting on the patio, only this time, his view is blocked by the wall.
You turn away, dancing with Leslie.
For a few songs, you complete forgot about what you were feeling. You felt happy, free, like you can finally breathe for once.
You walk over to the couch, plopping down as you laugh, "I didn't know how much I needed this."
"You deserve it. You've been working hard these last few weeks, you need time to just relax, or take a few shots and party it up." Kya laughs and you sigh, "Is that you saying you want to take shots?"
"Yes!" She laughs, "Come on!"
You get up, following her to the counter. She sits out a few solo cups, only pouring a little bit of liquid in each before looking around to call over Leslie and the other girls.
You knew you were being watched.
You knew that what you wanted to do wasn't good.
But you wanted to get back at him, show him what he lost. Even though your little black dress does a lot, you still wanted to add to it.
"Here's to those who wish us well, all the rest can go to hell." Kya laughs and you all clink the plastic cups together before downing the shots.
"I know I'm working my way to being drunk because that didn't taste as bad as it usually does." Leslie laughs setting her cup down, "Hit us again, Ky."
Your eyes move from the cups, up across the living room scattered with people. But your eyes know who they're looking for, and they find him almost instantly.
Colby's sitting in the chair, calf rested on his other knee. He taps his cup on the arm rest, tilting his head, knowingly getting under your skin.
"It's cold hearted." You mouth to him subtly, hoping he'd pick it up.
And he did, because he mouths back, "what's cold hearted?"
You raise your finger off of the cup Kya gives you, directing it to him, "You."
You turn your attention back to the girls, sighing as you laugh at Leslie gives the cheers this time. You take your shot, closing your eyes as you breathe out, "You picked the strongest liquor?"
"Why not." Kya laughs and wraps her hand around your wrist, "Let's dance again."
"I have to go to the bathroom, but I'll find you after." You sit your cup down, watching as they push their way through the crowd to get to the center of the dance floor.
You laugh, shaking your head as you look around to find the bathroom. You frown, not knowing where they were so you walk up to a random person, "Excuse me.. do you know where the bathroom is?"
The girl smiles and nods, "Yeah, there's one down here, right over there." She points, "..and then there's another one upstairs, second or third door on the right I think."
You smile, "Thank you!"
She gives you another smile before you walk to the bathroom that's downstairs. You knock and there's a girls voice on the other side, "Give me a second."
You could hear giggling, from here and someone else. You sigh, knowing that it won't just be a minute. You turn around, making your way to the staircase.
You walk up, turning to the right and silently counting the doors in your head, "Please be open." You mumble as you bring your hand up to knock.
Before your knuckles can make contact, the door swings open and to your shock, Colby is standing there with a smirk on his face, "So we meet again. Nice."
"If I can just pee in peace, please. That would be nice." You cross your arms, nervous to make eye contact. Colby walks out, motioning to you that the bathroom is all yours.
"Can we talk when you're done?"
You stop closing the door and you look up at him, "Why?" He stares at you, "Because I have some things I want to say."
"Mm. I'll think about it." You close the door, locking it as soon as it latches shut. You rest your hands on the sink looking at yourself in the mirror.
"What am I doing?" You mouth weakly to yourself.
Seeing Colby again, has opening up a new feeling.
Or, reigniting past feelings.
You sit down to pee, mind racing as to what Colby wanted to talk about. You knew you couldn't be alone with him, that's just an ingredient to the disaster recipe.
As you stand up, moving over to wash your hands. As you stare at the water running over your hands, you smirk slightly as your mind starts to replay the last time you and Colby had sex.
You gasp quietly - Theo. You dry your hands, pulling out your phone to see texts from him.
That sounds exciting.
You alright?
I might fall asleep, but just call me if you need a ride home or not. I'll wake up. I promise.
Your slightly drunken heart sinks a little as you tap the screen, Sorry babe, I was dancing with Kya and Leslie. I'll call you when we're ready to leave.
You drop your phone back into your bag and give yourself one last look before opening the door.
Colby is still there, leaning up against the wall. He looks up at you and smiles.
You roll your eyes, "You're so fucking persistent."
"You weren't saying that a few months ago." He smirks and you shake your head, "Colby.." you pause, trying not to let your newly old feelings take over, "I have a boyfriend."
"I know, you've said that already.." He pushes himself off the wall and walks over, "A few times actually."
You shake your head, "It's late.. I need to go."
"Can we just- listen. I'm wired right now, and I just need - look, I know it's late, but I saw your face and got inspired t-"
"Inspired?" You laugh cutting him short, "What does that even mean?"
"Inspired to tell you how I really feel."
"About what?" You chew on the inside of your lip as you look up at him. He moves his finger back and forth from you to him and you nod slowly, "Right, right. But where was this when I told you I how I felt?"
"I wasn't.. I wasn't ready for something serious." He admits.
"You mean, you didn't want to be-" you put air quotes, "- tied down."
He looks at you, moving closer, "Look.. I-"
"Colby." You take a deep breath, batting his rising hand away from your face, "I can't.. do this."
"Do what, y/n?" He asks, tilting his head as he crosses his arms, "Come back to me?"
"I'm past that." You mumble, "I can't just.. I have a boyfriend, Colby."
"You keep saying." He nods, "I'm not asking to fuck. I'm asking to just talk to you. Let you know that seeing your face tonight completely changed how I- well, how I thought I felt about you."
You feel your heart thump in your chest as you don't know what to say. Your eyes search the floor as you sigh, "I have a boyfriend, I let what we had in the past go."
He purses his lips, "Did you?" He chuckles, "Because what you did down there..." he shrugs, "To me, that looked like you wanted my attention."
"I'm just having fun with my friends." You lie with a shrug, "Thats all."
"Well then.." he drops his hands, stepping back as he motions down the hall, "I guess you're good to go, then."
"Mm, like I said. Cold hearted." You go to walk away but he grabs your arm, pulling you back. You scoff and look up at him, pulling your arm away from him, "What the fuck are you doing?"
"Look. Y/n. This is probably going to sound wrong, but just give me one minute .. I promise it won't last long."
You stare up at him, silently giving him a minute to talk.
He slowly moves his body closer to yours, "if we can't go back, you know, to the day that I just-"
"Ghosted me?" You ask raising your brows and he nods, "I just thought you'd like to know something."
You look up and back to him. You should just walk away. Go find Kya and call Theo, but it's like you're frozen in time.
Nothing matters right now but listening to what Colby has to say.
"What?" You slowly look up at him and a smirk toys with his lips, "I just thought you'd like to know that he won't touch you like I would."
You snap your head back, "what?"
He nods, backing you up slowly into the wall, hands on either side of your head, "He won't love you like I would."
"Does he know your body? Because I don't think he truly does." Colby's finger gently drags down over your collar bone and you close your eyes at the touch.
"He doesn't know your body, he don't do you right." He chuckles quietly as he tilts your chin up to force you to look at him, "He won't, he can't."
"You don't know him, Colby." You snap, "You know nothing about him."
Colby's eyes scan over your face, "I just know that he won't love you like I would." His thumb rubs over your bottom lip, smudging your lipstick slightly, "It's okay to want me."
"I ca-"
"Cause I want you." He cuts you off, "I know you've been thinking it over.. you can't lie about that. I know the way it ended wasn't the best, but when we were together, in bed or watching a movie.. it was good. So fucking good."
You tilt your head away, "But I'm through, Colby. I'm through with it. From what it seemed, you didn't want to give me what Theo wanted to. A possible future, public appearances. Fuck, Colby."
You lay your palms on your forehead, "Just. Stop. Stop waiting my time. Stop messing with my fucking head." You move your hands, looking up at him, "That's what I mean when I said you were cold hearted. You have no idea what you do to me."
You duck under his arm, walking towards the steps as you try and fix your smudged lipstick when you suddenly stop.
Your mind racing a mile a minute as you try not to give in to the bad things you know you shouldn't do.
"He won't touch you like I would."
"He won't love you like I would."
"He doesn't know your body, he don't do you right."
"I just know that he won't love you like I would."
You turn around, marching towards him, "where was this three, four months ago when I confessed my love for you? What's was all of this when I was ready to give everything to you?" You're standing so close to him you can smell the liquor on his breath, "Huh!?"
"I-I wasn't ready then."
"But you're ready now? Or ready when you seen that I was done being someone you can booty call at two am when you're lonely and want to get your dick wet. I see."
He stands there, looking down at you as you continue, "all of this.. he won't do this he can't do that like you could, what the fuck. What the actual fuck Colby."
"It's the truth." He shrugs, "I don't know what you want me to say. I'm not lying about it." His hand brushes up your arm and your heads both snap to the stairs as you hear people coming up laughing.
He quickly pushes you against a door, opening it as he pushes you into it.
You stand there, watching as he closes it quickly and quietly, flipping the lock on the knob, "Does he know how much you like to be worshiped?"
You clench your jaw.
"Does he know about the little spot on your neck that you just absolutely love when his tongue runs over it?" He steps closer to you, "does he know that two fingers slipping slowly in and out of that pussy teases the ever loving shit out of you, but you love it so much you can't help but to just endure it?"
He walks over to you, "Does he know how much you love to be bent over, being fucked from behind as you get told how much of a good girl you are for taking him?"
He walks up, tilting your head up to look at him, "Does he know your coffee order? French vanilla with two cream, three sugar?"
You can feel your heart beating faster as your eyes begin to burn - colby did pay attention to you.
"Or what about the movie you can never get sick of? Does he watch that with you every time you come over just to see you smile and hear that beautiful laugh?"
"Do you want me to keep going?" He licks his lips, eyes bouncing between yours, "Tell me to stop, and I'll stop."
You say nothing, curious as to what else he has to say.
"Does he know what little things turn you on?" His hand slides down, slowly squeezing the front of your neck, "Does he know what you don't like?"
He tilts his head, "Your silence tells me that everything I need to know."
"What do you know exactly?" You ask quietly, eyes moving to look at him.
"Exactly what I said." He walks you back wards a few steps and you knees buckle as they hit the edge of the bed, "He don't touch you like I did. Know your body like I do. He doesn't love you like I did, like I do."
You sit down, Colby's hand still on your neck, "Like I said. Tell me to stop and I will." He leans in, slowly closing the space between you.
You rest your fingertips on his cheek, your breathing is rapid, "Colby.." Your voice is quiet, "I-I.."
You so badly want to say no, but you feel like you physically cant, "How do I know you're not just saying these things."
He doesn't say anything for a few moments, his hand releases from your neck as he moves down to kneel in between your knees, "Why would I remember everything about you, the way you liked to be touch, a simple coffee order.. if I wasn't going to try and get you back?"
"All the months, the days that went by Colby.. I just.." you tilt your head back, the burn in your eyes returning.
"I- I loved you, Colby." You look at him, your hand moving to lay on the front of his neck. He tilts his head back, still maintaining eye contact with you as you squeeze slightly, "Why did you make me fall in love with you if you were just going to leave me?"
He places his hands on your cheeks, cupping your face, "I was scared. I was scared to open up completely to someone. The more time I spent with you, the more I let my fear get the best of me."
"You could have just told me that." You shake your head, "I don't.. I don't understand what made it so hard for you to-"
"I don't know either, okay." He says cutting you off, "But I'm telling you now. Right here." He pulls you in, his lips brushing against yours, "Right now."
You close your eyes, "But Theo.."
"Screw him, he doesn't know anything about you." Colby shakes his head, "But I know you."
You knew he was right.
You also knew that he knew what you wanted to do.
"Our situationship ended in a disaster, Colby." You laugh slightly as you look at him, "Maybe not for you. And then the whole, what was it, oh.." you roll your eyes, "yeah, the whole hey message right when it got out I was with Theo."
"I hated seeing you with someone else."
"Why?" Your eyes meet his and he rubs his thumb over your cheek, "Because I wanted you to be with me, you're made for me."
His words have an effect on you, and not the I'm lying just to get into your pants effect, but the so this is love effect.
"Do you want me to stop?" Colby asks quietly as he lays his hands on your thighs.
You lay your hands on his, "Are you going to ghost me again?"
"Never." He shakes his head, rubbing his fingers over your skin, "Never again."
You cup his cheeks as you spread your legs open slowly, "Prove it."
He's quick to act, pushing your dress up to lay around your hips as you lay back. You bring your legs up and his grips your thigh, using his other hand pull your panties to the side.
He leans in, pushing his tongue into you with a groan.
You gasp, eyes rolling back as you place a hand on his head. Your leg goes over his shoulder, pulling him closer.
You missed how good he made you feel, more importantly, you missed him.
"Colby." You moan out quietly as you look down at him. He locks eyes with yours, staring up at you as his tongue moves in and out.
He leans back, "I missed you so much." He moves up next to you, lying on his side as he leans down to kiss you.
His hand moves down your body as he gently rubs two fingers up and down your slit before slowly pushing them in.
You gasp, gripping the sheets of the random bed under you, "I missed you." Your hand goes to his cheek as his fingers move slow, doing what you love.
"What did you miss?" He presses a kiss to your forehead, "Hmm."
"You." Your breath shutters as he pushes his fingers in as far as they'll go, "Everything."
"Like what, darlin'?" Colby watches you, biting his lip as you roll your hips against his hand. You moan quietly, "all the ways.. you make me feel good."
"If you come back to me, I can do it everyday." He leans down, kissing down your neck, "Any time you want."
Your lips part as his tongue runs over the specific spot he mentioned, earning a gasp from you.
He smirks, "See, I know you."
He pulls his fingers out, bringing them up to your lips. You part them, eyes on his as your tongue swirls around them.
"You're so beautiful." He bites his lip, "Tasting yourself off my fingers."
You smile, tilting your head back. He grips your chin, leaning down to kiss you before standing up to shrug off his jean jacket.
You sit up, pulling the straps of your dress down your shoulders, "what are you layering up for winter or something?"
He chuckles, "I came here for one thing, and it wasn't to party." He winks as he pulls off his crew neck, "..so I wasn't really worried about dressing for it."
Your eyes scan over his bare torso, "What did you come here for?"
He chuckles, tilting his head as he slips his fingers into the band of his matching sweats, "I think you know."
"Do I?" You tease and he steps out of them, walking over to you. He leans down, moving his body over yours as you lay back, "Why don't I just show you."
Your lips part as the tip of his cock pushes up against you, "Don't be gentle."
"That was my next question." He smirks as he rests his arm under your knee, holding your leg up as he slides his cock into you.
Your brows furrow as your nails dig into his shoulder, "Fuck, fuck." You clench around him, earning a groan from his lips, "Fuck, I've missed how you feel around me."
He leans down, connecting his lips to yours as he slowly pulls out. He thrusts back in, quickly picking up a punishing pace.
He kisses down your neck, moaning into it as your nails drag up his back, "Colby.." you whimper, wrapping your other leg around his waist, "Fuck, fuck."
Colby bites your neck, sucking in a mark that you most likely find until later.
"You're made for me." He groans lowly, "You belong with me."
"I belong with you." You moan out as you lay your hand on his cheek, "I love you. I've always loved you."
His lips meet yours as his arm drops your leg, his hand moving to wrap around your neck, "You've always been such a good little slut for me."
You moan at his words, "always you."
He leans up, hands gripping your hips as he thrusts, "Fuck, fuck. Roll over for me." He pulls out and you push yourself over, moving your hips up.
"That's my girl." His hands run over your ass, sliding up to grip your hips as he moves behind you. He lines himself up, thrusting into you slowly as he leans down.
His lips plant kisses on your shoulder and across your upper back to the other, "I'm never letting you go again."
You grip the blanket, pulling as he pushes his cock into you. You whimper, pushing your hips back, "You feel so good."
Colby slides his hand up your back, making a pony tail of your hair take with his hand.
Your mouth opens, eyes rolling back as he pulls your head back more, "such a good girl." He starts to thrust, slow and hard, "Taking my cock so well again."
You moan, squeezing his cock as he brings you close to orgasm, "Close.. s-so close."
"Go on baby, show me how good I make you feel." Colby's voice is low, "Let me hear those pretty sounds."
A string of moans leaves by our lips as he pounds into you, guiding you through your high. His hand slips around, tightening around your neck, "that's it, baby."
He nips your ear, "So fucking good." He rests his forehead against your head, "You're gonna make me cum."
He leans up, bringing a hand down to smack on your ass. He runs his thumb over the forming red hand print, "Fuck, fuck."
He thrusts grow sloppy, quickly slowly down as you feel him twitch inside of you. 
It's quiet, all but the sound of heavy breathing.
Colby finds something to clean up with, walking over to gently wipe you off, "Are you okay?" He helps you sit up and you smile, "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"I didn't mean with us.. I mean.." he purses his lips and your eyes go wide, "Oh fuck, Theo."
.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.
Thank you for reading! As always, let me know how you liked it!
Love you all! 🖤
Likes and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
406 notes · View notes
ronwestbreeze · 10 months
Text
too fast
Tumblr media
pairing: miguel o'hara x spider!fem!reader warnings: more angst summary: he should've stopped you... word count: 2.4k author's note: this will be the last installment! since we don't know what happens after atsv we're gonna leave it here for now! thanks for giving too slow so much and i hope you enjoy part 2!
part 1
Tumblr media
If Miguel O’Hara had to guess, it all started going downhill when you accidentally discovered that your sister was going to die. It wasn’t supposed to happen, you finding out. Like everything else in a Spider person’s life, it was a canon event that was bound to happen, a significant event that would truly make you who you were now. The White Spider. An event that would happen naturally, like all tragic ones do.
Because the truth was, they happen. And there was nothing you could do to stop it.
That’s what Miguel tried to tell you. That if you tried to interfere, then your dimension would unravel just as his did. He didn’t want that for you. Couldn’t want that for you. There were worse fates and that was one of them.
But of course, you were determined.
“Don’t tell me to stand by and let it happen, Miguel, all because of some stupid canon shit. Don’t tell me that.” You gritted out as you stalked down the hall, him right behind you.
“I am, Domino.” Miguel argued desperately. “I am telling you not to endanger your dimension over something that is supposed to happen. I am doing this to protect you—“
You whirled around on him, causing Miguel to stop short in front of you, “This is your way of protecting me? By telling me to stand by and let my sister die all because of some computer program?! Be fucking for real, Miguel!”
“Yes, because I know the dangers of what’s going to happen if you—”
“No, Miguel, no you don’t.” It hurt, your words. You knew what he had gone through, what he had lost. But you were too stubborn. He knew this. “I’m gonna try. Because that’s what we do. We try even if the odds are against us. That’s what all this shit that happened to me has led up to, right? Why stop now?”
It wasn’t like Miles Morales. No, this was before he learned that there were more forceful ways to stop something like this from happening.
He should’ve stopped you.
But things just fell apart too fast for him to keep up in the end.
Miguel practically dove through the portal to your dimension with Jessica and a few other Spider-men at his side. The crisis was a disaster. The Brooklyn Bridge was halfway in the water, cars either destroyed or hanging by black webs made by you. Immediately, Miguel and the others played damage control. There was yet another villain that had escaped their world and fell into another. This time it was a Green Goblin. One large enough to do this much damage.
It didn’t take long for Miguel to spot your white suit swinging about frantically, your head turning quickly every second. Which meant he had arrived just in time to stop you from making the biggest mistake you could’ve ever made for yourself and your universe. Miguel kept his eyes glued to you while leading people to safety. Until he spotted your sister’s car being thrown up in the air, quickly being caught by your black webs.
You were at the top of the bridge, trying to convince your sister to calm down, revealing your identity to her. Miguel landed on top of the bridge, you sent him a scowl and raised your hand, “Don’t!”
“You know what will happen, Domino.” He tried warning you. “One life or an entire universe? Over other families? Other brothers and sisters? What then?!”
You ignored him and shot a web down to your sister to grab onto. “If I don’t do this, then I will never forgive myself. I’m not like you, Miguel.” You looked at him pleadingly, desperately. “I can’t—”
The green hulking figure hurtled right into you, taking both you and Miguel off guard.
Your grip on your sister slipped but she was able to grab onto another web and hold on while you were preoccupied with the Green Goblin. A wave of rage—fear?—hit Miguel as he dashed toward the ugly beast, using his whole weight to throw it off of you and tackled it down to the ground.
“You don’t get to touch her!” He growled, pounding the goblin’s face until it was finally unconscious.
The bridge began to fall. Jessica began ordering every spider person around to quickly gather all the civilians left on the bridge. The top of the bridge where your sister was hanging began to crumble and Miguel watched as you swung back toward her.
He should’ve stopped this long before. He shouldn’t have let it get this far.
You were already dashing across the top of the bridge, Miguel had ended up behind you in seconds. You glanced over your shoulder at him, “Miguel, don’t!”
But he ignored you and shot his scarlet webs toward your figure. But of course, you were quicker than him, You always were.
His webs had missed. The web holding your sister up snapped. She was falling.
And you had dived after her.
Miguel leaped off the bridge, shot a thick web toward you and above him. In seconds the fall had stopped. You were now hanging and attached to Miguel’s web while the other half of his web kept him attached to what was left of part of the bridge.
But your webs had already been released.
You had already caught her.
No. No. No. No. No.
You had been too fast for him.
When the adrenalin cooled down a bit, you shot your head up at him, the angered glare evident on your face, “Were you really about to fucking stop me?!”
Instead of acknowledging your anger, Miguel shot back, “Do you realize what you’ve done?!”
“I saved my sister!”
“You’ve given your universe a death sentence!” Miguel shouted. “Why do you have to be so fucking selfish?!”
“Selfish?!” You snapped. Now you were quite pissed. Truly, he had never seen you this angry before now. He supposed that it made sense that it would be him to cause this. There had been many close calls. Now, it was different. You couldn’t keep your resolve. “I didn’t invade another universe and replace a girl’s father! Did you ever think that your situation was different?! Did you ever think that what you did was a lot worse than me saving my sister?! You can’t project your problems onto me, Miguel. It’s not the same and you know it—”
“Did it ever occur to you that I did this because I love you?” Miguel hissed. “Did it ever occur to you that I couldn’t bear to watch you lose everything over the same mistake I made?! Did it, Domino? Did you ever stop and think—”
“Wait.” He realized then that you weren’t looking at him anymore. Instead you were looking down. At the end of your web. “If I screwed everything up, then how come my dimension isn’t unraveling?”
The way you asked this, the way you posed the question made him go silent for a moment. Because he just then realized things weren’t changing. Other than the chaos that was happening around them already, there wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. No holes in the dimension. Nothing disappearing.
“I….” Miguel looked back to you, “I….M-Miguel I saved her, didn’t I?”
He still couldn’t respond.
You reached your web up and tied it to Miguel’s wrist before snapping his web attached to you apart.
“Domino—”
But he watched you fall toward the bottom.
It didn’t take him long to get there too. It didn’t take him long to see the limp body attached to the end of your web. It didn’t take him long to realize that your universe wouldn’t unravel any time soon.
Your sister was dead. Just like it was supposed to….
This was supposed to be better. This was supposed to be what kept you and your universe safe.
Miguel O’Hara always made the tough calls. The decisions that no one else could.
So why did it feel like the dimension was tearing itself apart in front of his eyes? Why did it feel like you were going to disappear at any second? Why did it feel like he had already lost you even though you were right there.
He did. He lost you.
You slipped from his fingers so fast…
“Is this what you wanted?” A weak whisper left your lips, your back still turned to him.
There were no words he could say that could fix any of it.
Miguel removed his mask, so that you could see his face. So that you could see how sincere he was. Only for you to see. Only you mattered in that moment.
“Sometimes you can’t stop what’s meant to happen.” When you glanced over your shoulder at him, when you looked at him through glassy eyes—your mask now gone—it made the words a lot harder to force out, “I never wanted any of this. Not like this…”
Jessica and the others arrived but didn’t say anything. Jessica had been one of the people on Miguel’s side about the whole ordeal, but even she was smart enough not to say anything. You were already hurting too much.
You glared at him through the water falling from your eyes, you glared at Jessica, you glared at all of them.
“Well, congratulations.”
“Y/N…” Jessica tried, only she went silent when she noticed your sister’s body limp behind you. There was nothing to be said.
You tore off your bracelet and threw it at Miguel’s feet. “You saved the canon, O’Hara. You should be proud.”
After that, you stopped coming to HQ. Except for that one time when you announced you were quitting the society for good. After that he stopped seeing the White Spider swinging around your dimension and stopping bad guys. The only time he saw you don your suit was to fight a new villain called the Electro. After that, he hadn’t seen you in the newspapers nor social media ever again.
This wasn’t something he really didn’t see coming. Frankly, he wasn’t even sure if the canon knew this was what exactly would happen after your sister’s death. That you would just stop being the White Spider. That you would give it all up.
Fuck. Of course this would be the last straw. He knew you. He met your sister multiple times.
You weren’t like Miguel. You would not bounce back easily. That was never you.
He should’ve stopped it. He shouldn’t have let it get that far…
The fight on the train didn’t last for long. Like you had said beforehand, you hadn’t planned on fighting him. Only keeping him at bay so that Miles was given time to go back to his dimension. So you had gotten your licks in, getting to kick your man’s ass was something so refreshing and should’ve happened sooner if you were being honest.
You landed a few kicks at Miguel—his waist, face, and legs—before he grabbed you and threw you off the train. But you fell gracefully, knowing that you had done your part. So you entered your data into your bracelet, a portal appearing behind you.
“He’s just a kid, Miguel.” You called.
The last thing you saw was Miguel, an unreadable expression on his face as you disappeared through the portal.
Gwen had recruited you to help Miles a couple hours after you had gotten back to your dimension. Apparently, he had been sent to the wrong Earth so now it was your job to track him down and help him complete his goal. Helping him succeed at something that you couldn’t.
So before you started this long fight, the long journey ahead, you went to your sister’s grave. You honestly couldn’t remember the last time you were here. After the funeral, you weren’t sure you even came here alone yourself. Just to see her.
It hurt too much before. It only just kept reminding you how much you failed. Why you stopped being the White Spider. Why your relationship with Miguel could never quite be the same.
Your spine shuddered and you turned your head slightly away from your sister’s grave. “It’s kind of insensitive to do a sneak attack when I’m visiting my sister, O’Hara.”
Behind you, Miguel stood a little further away. His mask was off. You didn’t move from your sister’s grave and he didn’t move from where he stood. The two of you took to staring at each other for a long moment.
Since it didn’t seem like he was going to say anything first, you sighed, “Don’t act so surprised. I thought you knew me better than that—”
“I thought I did too.” Miguel scowled, though the harshness was mixed with something looser. Something that would’ve made you crumble on the spot.
You cleared away some of the dead rose petals from the last bouquet of flowers that were left here, “Is that what you came here for? To berate me  into changing my mind? I’m convinced already—”
“I’m not here to convince you. How can I do that when you won’t listen to reason?” Miguel hissed. “If you are willing to die over this, destroy another universe, then…” You looked at him fully then. Perhaps you were too far away to see, perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn his eyes were red. Not from his unique abilities.
The emotion in his eyes, god you wanted to look away. You didn’t want your resolve to fail again. Not this time.
This time was too important.
“Then what?” You asked him quietly.
Miguel never responded to your question. He ducked his head down for a moment. The words that left his mouth almost barely audible. “How many times will I have to lose you, Domino? How many times will you leave me?”
You stood and slowly inched toward the man. Cautiously, you gently grabbed his face once you were close enough and leaned your forehead against his. Your thumb caressed his cheek. His larger hands wrapped around you until his face is buried into your neck, practically inhaling your scent.
God, it was always like this. One moment you were in each other’s arms and in the next throwing each other off of trains or running until neither of you could run anymore. Moments like this, the gentle, the quiet. It never lasted.
In the next moment Miguel wasn’t in your arms anymore. You weren’t on your Earth anymore. Now you were flying about in search for Miles, hoping to find him before Miguel and his gang did. You were never sure when the two of you would ever find that semblance of peace again. Those moments were gone in seconds and you were back to the real world. That’s how your cycle went.
That was your canon.
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
delfiore · 5 months
Text
—ONE OF YOUR GIRLS.
Tumblr media
pairing: lucy bronze x reader, (alexia putellas x reader)
synopsis: the only reason is simply because you are both heartbroken, lonely, and desperate.
word count: 1.9k
a/n: i gave myself a 1k word limit on this and i failed miserably. literally why is it so hard for me to write a 1k essay for school but not this
Tumblr media
You started to learn Lucy’s routine only a few weeks after she started coming around. Like clockwork, it didn’t matter how late you went to bed, she would always be up before eight. Sometimes, it would be to go downstairs for a swim in the freezing cold outdoor pool in her apartment complex. “Helps me wake up and think clearer”, she would explain. Sometimes, it would just be to sit in the living room with a coffee in hand, watching videos of the team you and her would be playing later in the day. Other times—and it was always a treat when she did—it would be to stay in bed with you, and watch you wake up.
Those were the times in which you felt like what you had with Lucy resembled most like a relationship, due to the sheer amount of domesticity of it. The way she would take time out of the day to lay a few extra minutes with you made it feel concrete like what you were doing was worth the time. But that wasn’t the goal—a relationship.
“I forgot to bring my stuff last night,” you whispered, suddenly remembering the lack of gear you brought over to Lucy’s apartment. You had hastily stuffed the necessities into a crossbody bag when she texted.
“It’s alright. We can drive by later and pick it up on our way to training.”
“We’re gonna arrive together? What if people see?”
Everyone else at Barcelona didn’t know, of course, because you couldn’t even begin to explain what the fuck transpired between you two. It was no relationship, but it was no ordinary friendship either. A special kind of friendship, maybe, but not entirely the kind people would think of if you described it as such . . .
Lucy’s lips pursed, and she contemplated for a moment. After a few seconds, she turned towards the window, the morning sun washed white behind the milky blinds.
“I don’t really care, to be honest,” her chest rose quickly with an exhale. “Why have we got to explain ourselves to people anyway? Kinda tired of it.”
You knew she meant having to deal with the looks her ex would give her. She had been chasing after Keira, trying to make amends for a long time. You knew that, she told you everything.
It made you think about your own situation. You were still very much in love with your own ex, but Alexia has since moved on with a mutual friend, and your conversations were reduced to strictly work nowadays. The way she started treating you after the breakup wasn’t dissimilar to how an older teenager treats her younger, annoying little sibling; with avoidance and an overly sense of self-importance. It made you despise her ten times more than you already did, but you also yearned for her attention, because it was what you have aligned your life with for a while.
But you supposed you had a type—older women with avoidance issues—which was why you were here with Lucy.
“Keira asked me about you the other day,” you said on the car ride to the training ground. You sat in Lucy’s passenger seat. “She was wondering how you were doing. Said you never talk to her anymore.”
Lucy scoffed and turned back to you. “Can we talk about something else?”
“Like what?”
“Like how you actually look so fit in my shirt.”
You let the snort escape your nose but leaned towards her in the passenger seat. “It’s literally a plain black T-shirt, Luce.”
“‘Xactly,” Her cheeks creased with a grin. “Makes me almost want to fancy you.”
“Almost.”
“Almost,” Lucy said.
Almost.
You and Lucy have always had a friendship filled with banter. Heart-to-hearts rarely happened—maybe before and after important matches, or international ones in which one of you had to be the loser—but you appreciated her easygoing nature and how it has shaped your relationship.
If you were a bit closer in age, if you weren’t already with Alexia, and she with Keira at the same time, you reckoned you would have gone for her. You’d always found her attractive.
“You’re too young for me, Y/N,” Lucy had told you once.
“I’m just saying,” you had put your hands up. “If you’re ever desperate enough, I could be like one of your girls.”
Lucy only laughed. Perhaps desperate was the wrong word to use. Lucy Bronze could never get that desperate so as to seek you out for company. No, everything would have to be on her terms.
You agreed with her, though. A nine-year age gap might have been a bit too much, but Lucy wasn’t just like any other 32-year-old.
But you were in love with Alexia. You still were, and your coupling with Lucy might have just been a ploy to piss her off, but your captain didn’t need to know that. Just seeing the not-so-subtle looks she sends your way whenever you are too touchy with Lucy was enough to satiate your grudge.
It seemed the joke wasn’t merely a joke, not to Lucy, because one night, she called you. You had never seen Lucy cry, at least not in person, and she was the type of person to let people see her cry only for her profession, never something in her personal life.
Every joke on your tongue died the moment you saw her blotchy, red face at your front door.
“I didn’t know who else to call.”
Really?
She could have called anyone on the team and they would happily offer her comfort. That was the charisma that Lucy wielded, and you were willing to bet there were other members of the team who were much better than you at comforting someone.
“I think I’m just unlovable.”
You led her inside and offered her a glass of water. I think I’m just unlovable. Her words echoed in your mind as you scrambled to find any words that would be comforting to her at that moment. How do you convince someone that they weren’t their flaws when you yourself struggled with the same insecurities? If Lucy even had those doubts about herself, how could you ever get out of it?
“I think I’m unlovable too.”
You didn’t know whether that was comforting or just rubbing salt in her wound, but Lucy exhaled shakily, for the first time looking at you in a way unlike that of teammates, or even friends.
Unlike a friend would, you lifted your hand and wiped away the tear on her cheek with the pad of your thumb, and unlike a friend would, you leaned in and kissed her slowly.
Kissing Lucy was exhilarating. She was eager and rough, and soft and gentle. It made you almost want to fall in love with her. She was tired, so you climbed on her lap and led the way, and all her burdens faded into oblivion, at least for the night.
When you both arrived at training, only a few of your teammates were there in the locker room, and most of them didn’t seem to notice you coming in together anyway. Pina, though, found you across the room.
“Did you hear?” She said quietly.
“What?”
“Alexia has been with the physios since like 9 this morning.”
“Why? What happened?” You tried not to sound too eager, or worried.
“I don’t know, but I walked past and I think she was crying.”
When you came into the rehab center, a physio greeted you with a smile. You returned it as your eyes quickly found the only person lying down on a bed, hiding her face in the crook of her arm.
“Hey, capitana,” you said in Spanish. “You sleep here last night or something?”
You saw the way her jaw ticked, and looking down, noticed the bandages wrapped around her knee, the ACL one.
“You didn’t happen to bring any coffee in, did you?” She said groggily. “I could use a sip.”
“No coffee, sorry. I’m trying to wean myself off of it.”
“You said that a thousand times before.”
You put your hands in your pockets and leaned against the bed. “What’s wrong?”
She let out a sigh and removed her arm. “They’re making me sit out Saturday’s game. They’re scared I might mess something up.”
You nodded, because you understood exactly why. Another ACL problem would be detrimental to her career in ways that you didn’t want to think about. “It’s better to be sure,” you shrugged.
“I’ve fucked my knee, Y/N,” Alexia said, inhaling shakily. “That’s what it is.”
You couldn’t imagine having to live with the anxiety, tiptoeing around your own knees, afraid it might give out any second again. Even the smallest discomfort could spell trouble, and the slightest movement could trigger the injury to worsen.
You opted not tell Lucy about your conversation with Alexia, because you wanted to keep it to yourself. As useless as that might be, that was the first genuine conversation you’ve had with your ex in about a year. You’ve learned not to take it to heart, though, because you knew you’d disappoint yourself when Alexia eventually goes back to treating you like a kid.
You made a conscious effort not to think about her when you called Lucy over for a hookup, but when she was knuckles-deep inside you, you couldn’t think of anything else but the pleasure.
Laying back and staring at the ceiling, you drew deep breaths as you came down from your high.
“You okay?” Lucy asked.
“Yeah,” you nodded. “Hold me?”
She smiled and gathered you in her arms before kissing you sweetly. “Did something happen with Alexia?”
“No.” Nothing happened, really, but maybe it was because nothing happened that made you so distraught. “Maybe in another universe, where you’re not you and I’m not me, I would take you on a date tomorrow, maybe we’d be happier.”
“Well, why won’t you do it in this universe?”
You shrugged and settled back against her chest. “Because I’m me and you’re you. But mostly, because I am me.”
Lucy didn’t answer. She knew as much as anyone that once you’ve made your mind up, there was no swaying it, and that she didn’t have the energy in her to either. Instead, she leaned down and planted a sweet kiss on your forehead, wishing you’d find it in you somewhere to see yourself the way she sees you.
It would take some time until then, though, as only a few weeks later, she saw you hand-in-hand with Alexia coming to practice. Apparently, Alexia’s girlfriend was no more and you got what you wanted. It was okay, though, because Lucy found comfort in Ona, about to go on a second date with her the next day. You might have almost gotten the love you’d always desired with her, but it was just that, an almost.
559 notes · View notes
wongyuuu · 4 months
Text
red | csc
Tumblr media
pairing: seungcheol x f!reader genre: smut word count: 1.6k warnings: minors do not interact, kissing, a little bit of dirty talking, swearing, oral (male), masturbation (female), unprotected sex (please wrap it up kids), sort ot public sex, car sex a/n: not entirely sure how this one happened but here we are i guess. this was not how the story was supposed to go, i had different plans and maybe i'll write them later. if you filled the form to be tagged in my fics but was not tagged for this one, it means that you are either a minor or i didn't find your age anywhere in your blog.
this is part of my series, seventeen as songs from red (ts)
Seungcheol ➝ Red Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly ↳ the sight of seungcheol driving had always been your favorite but when both of you were trying to escape while being chased down by the police, you couldn't help but make things a little more… interesting
Tumblr media
“Baby, no, you can’t be serious” Seungcheol complained, his voice a weird mixture of moan and groan as he looked between the road and your hand that was dangerously close to the waist of his jeans. 
He looked at you again, but your eyes were focused on the rear windscreen, a small smile playing on your lips as the cops struggled to follow along. Clearly, the police academy should provide driving lessons, because there was no way those men were actually that bad at driving. 
“It’s going to be fun” you whispered against his skin. 
You pressed your lips over his jawline, right where it connected with his ear, going down his neck, lightly biting into his skin. Your kisses trailed down his neck until his collarbone, where you pressed them over his sweet spot, sucking his skin hard enough to leave a mark. 
You enjoyed knowing that his skin was marked by you.  It was only fair that he too carried marks after leaving a few of them himself all over your body. It had been hard to explain to your sister, ever so naive, how you had gotten those bruises. She saw you as sincere enough, pure enough, to believe that some of it had been due to your clumsy nature. Good thing she never saw the ones right above your panties and the two on your inner thighs. 
“We're going to get caught” 
Seungcheol had always been the first one to throw any sort of caution out the window and he was never one to tell you no. If you wanted something, it was yours. If he didn't have what you wanted, he was sure to get it for you. So when you undid the button of his jeans and slid your hand in, pushing his underwear and pants down just enough to set his semi-hard cock free, Seungcheol didn't complain. 
His words of caution had been a lot more for you than for him. You had been his quiet and shy girl, who sometimes got scared when the cars were too loud. He wasn't certain when that new version of you had come out, but he knew he liked it a lot.
Truth be told, it wasn't really a new version of you, but a you that was only his to see and know about.
“Do you really want Kyle back there to see me choke on your dick?” you pressed your lips to the corner of his mouth “Imagine the view he's going to get… my ass in this tiny skirt in the air, you dick in my mouth, my eyes filled with tears because you're too big to fit into my mouth but I want to take you all way”
God, he loved it when your mouth got a little dirty. 
Seungcheol grabbed your hair, pushing your head down into his cock. You smiled, finally happy that he had given it. You loved that he was willing to pull back but also loved that he didn't hesitate to say yes to you sucking him off.
You licked him, from the base to tip. Your hand pumped him once, twice, three times. A fourth one just for good measure, to be certain that he was almost fully hard before you took him into your mouth.
The moan that left Seungcheol's lips caused a wave of tingles to dance through your body, all the way to your core and you couldn’t help but moan too. 
The sounds he made while you sucked him had always turned you on. So to have him driving — probably your favorite thing about him — and moaning for you, while his hand was tangled in your hair, forcing your head down until his dick touched the back of your throat turned you on in ways that you didn't think were possible.
You had never been one for public sex. Not just public, but anywhere near someone else, or where someone else could hear the faintest sound. But with Seungcheol all of your inhibitions had been left behind and he was all that you could see and feel and want.
He went from the hot driver who helped you escape an illegal race, to the hot driver/boyfriend you were sucking off while being chased down by the cops. 
“Balls too” you managed to pull back long enough to say.
You pushed Seuncheol's jeans a little further down, glad he was willing to help by raising him hips just enough. Once all of him was out for you, you leaned over him again. Your hand was on his cock while your mouth was busy a little more down.
He let out a grunt when you grazed him with your teeth, moaning again when you took him again. His hand was back in your hair, maybe it had never even left, guiding you up and down, at the pace he liked the most. As if you didn't know it already, as if you hadn't memorized it.
“I love your mouth, so much,” he said, holding your head down “You take me so well, baby” 
Tears started to form in the corner of your eyes, spit Dripping out and coating all of him. You snaked your free hand into your soaked panties, needing some sort of pressure too. You moaned when the tip of your middle finger grazed your clit, the tiniest bit of stimulation enough to make your head almost spin.
“Are you touching yourself, baby?” whichever incoherent sound left your mouth was enough of confirmation to Seungcheol “I bet you're pulsing around nothing, begging to be filled.  Ready for me”
You moaned again, rubbing your clit a little more desperately than before. If you were going to get Seungcheol to his release, it was only fair that you got some sort of your own too.
Seungcheol looked at the rearview mirror for a second, when he reached the exit he was looking for, opting to get away from the main road. Those cops weren't aware of the alternative road, so you were almost out of any danger — if such a thing had even existed, for a moment at least.
He pulled you up, his hand on your jaw. He loved to turn you into a mess, with tear-stained cheeks and spit all over you. Your hand never left your pussy when he pulled you to him. He kissed you for a second, doing his best to keep the car moving, still on the road.
“Come ride me” he whispered against your lips.
Your eyes gleamed and you moved, pulling your skirt up and shoving your panties to the side. Seungcheol pushed his seat back, as far as he could go, to make room for you.
The position was a little awkward but it didn't matter as you angled his tip with your entrance, slowly coming down on him.
A long moan left your lips, until he was all the way inside you. You loved the burning sensation he always gave you, almost as if he was too much, like he wasn't going to fit in you. But he always did.
“How are you even tighter?” he moaned, his mind going blank for a second at the overwhelming feeling of taking you in public, of you riding him, of how your pussy sucked him in in desperation, of taking you bare.
Slowly, like torture, to started to move up and down, as much as you could. You moved your hips up, until he almost completely out and then let yourself fall into him. 
“Cheol” you begged, for what it was uncertain.
You wanted, needed, all of him, all over you.
“Take it, baby, it's yours”
Your moves became frantic, a mixture of bouncing on him, while grinding on him, searching for as much friction as you possibly could. 
Seuncheol moved your hand from his neck to your pussy, pressing your own fingers to open yourself up even further, giving you more room for friction.
“Cheol…” you moaned again, your voice louder as you moved over him “You're so so deep like this”
He no longer could take it. He pulled the car to the side of the road. The police had long been left behind and he had gotten to the point of not caring anymore. You were over him, almost on breaking point. He cared about getting you off, about seeing your eyes roll as your orgasm took over. 
“I got you, baby,” he said while kissing you “I've got you”
Seungcheol held your hips and started to pound into you at a relentless pace. He wanted to chase his high while giving you yours.
You moaned into his shoulder when he pressed a hand to your groin at the same time you started to rub your clit again, matching his pace.
“Cum with me, baby”
His words sent your body into a frenzy, your orgasm taking over as your entire body shook. Seungcheol swallowed all of your incoherent moans and words, his high following yours. He only stopped moving when all that was left was the small spams on your legs.
You leaned your head back when Seunchheol tugged at your hair. He loved that expression on you, when you were completely fucked out and pleased. He liked knowing that he had made it happen.
“Hi” he whispered
You laughed a little, your eyes still closed.
“So sex while the cops chase us turns you on, huh?” he said kissing your neck, enjoying the small goosebumps erupting on your skin “Fully noted”
Tumblr media
taglist: @wonwooz1, @mirtaspace, @feat-sun, @belladaises, @immabecreepin, @miriamxsworld, @aaniag, @byunparklimchoi, @k-drama-adict, @maiamorrrrrrrrrrrr, @roguesthetic, @sofix-hc7, @moonlightgrleric, @mixling-blog, @haowonbins, @valgracia, @slut4donghyuck
if you were tagged, please consider reblogging
if you want to be tagged in my next fics, please fill out this form
701 notes · View notes
mr-walkingrainbow · 6 months
Text
CALLING ALL MONSTER HIGH FANS. I JUST MET GARRETT. AND I WAS ABLE TO SCAVENGE SO MUCH LORE AND CONFIRMED HEADCANONS TO YOU. THIS IS ALL SAID BY GARRET OR CONFIRMED. I HAVE SPOKEN TO GOD AND HE HAS SPOKEN BACK
#1. Robecca and Venus were implied and ARE dating!!! He said it was like. Just like other monsters they had tried putting hints and characteristics into monsters that we could see and relate too. (He also said it outright down here. Lol I got all the proof guys!)
2. They never actually came up with Jane Boolittles Origins. And yes Dr. Morou and Dr. Boolittle raised her. But it was always a thing to them they'd say ‘oh well get back to this’. And then they never did. When asked; he genuinely doesn’t remember what they had planned for her.
3. a REALLY big mystery solved and lore dump guys. This one’s juicy. I KNOW HOW SPECTRA DIED. I KNOW HOW SHE DIED. AND WHAT THE TRAUMATIC STORY WAS FOR HER. I ACTUALLY FUCKING KNOW! Y’all ready? Drumroll…. It was, a, CAR CRASH! Yes you heard me. THE VONDERGEIST FAMILY ALL DIED IN A CAR CRASH. I think he said he she just came with her family off skirts and they got into an accident. I’ll reblog this with the video of him saying it!
4. Toralei lives in a monster high housing/boarding building when she is not attending school. This place is used for kids who do not have a place to go too, or if their home is too far to return to easily. I think there was an error somewhere where she mentioned parents? I mentioned that to him and he was very confused/didn’t remember. Reconfirmed that if she wasn’t in the monster high housing area. She would have been in either Jail or The streets.
5. Robecca was not rebuilt for 100 years due to Misogyny. Also because it had to go into the lines of her ‘mysteriously’ disappearing for her to have her comeback. I asked about how it was low key such a dark story, and he mentioned that since technically Monster high was the ‘horror’ genre. He was able to get away with things like that.
6. the Vampire Heart mystery! So remember how in Friday night frights we all see Ghoulia place a Robot Heart into Robeccas chest. Something that is very clearly not the Vampires heart? But then suddenly in Frights camera action it’s there? Well, technically that’s an official Error by the crew. He actually said he noticed it, and told management and stuff like ‘won’t people notice it?’ And they were all like ‘nah it will be fine no one will notice’. But then we all clearly did lol. He also said that because if this, he came up with the idea that the Vampires heart was ENCASED in the Robot heart we saw in Friday night frights. Ergo, explaining how Robecca had two hearts in one body! (It’s also confirmed Hexiciah placed the Vampires heart into her while he was building her. Which would explain why she didn’t remember it was their).
#7. Gooliope Jellingtons Origins. I asked what her origins were. And basically, she DOES NOT have any parents. She was CREATED IN A LAB. Which apparently didn’t treat her right. So she ESCAPED the lab and ran away to the circus! (Or blobbed away?) because he also confirmed, she was the blob. Or based off the blob. She wasn’t actually like. The daughter of the blob. She WAS the blob itself.
#8. Kiyomi Haunterly is Gay! I know this is was already somewhat canon and said before. But I asked and he confirmed it that she was in fact, Gay. And he tried to show it in her diary.
#9. We’re reaching some only implied/supported things. Not fully confirmed or intended. But Kala Mer’ri has BPD. I asked about if she has anything like BPD cause I relate and saw that a lot in her. He replied that he did try to make attributes for each Character specifically so we could related to them like that. And that it was to also make sure every character wasn’t a carbon copy of another. Basically. He didn’t like. Outright say ‘yes. She has bpd’. But he also didn’t disprove it. And he reacted positively to the idea and supported it.
#10. Robecca Steam has ADHD. It’s basically the same as above. Although he did like the note that I (someone with adhd) specifically had the same traits with Robecca, even more specifically, that we both are ALWAYS late. And can never keep track of time to save our unlife.
11. Dedyet DeNile Origins. He actually completely forgot about Cleo’s Mother eventually being reunited. I had asked how she had ended up in that same weird time loop Tomb thag Hexiciah was stuck in. (Which they were eventually freed by Robecca in her SDCC diary). He said he completely forgot about that. And genuinely didn’t remember anything about it. I basically re-explained the whole thing and he was very interested. Unfortunately. Not to much origins to go on.
11. here’s a canon one! What happened to Aamanita Nightshade after she left the DeNiles in the tomb. It was kinda funny, but he basically was like ‘Amanita went up and was just like ‘Peace!’’ And then never came back.’ She goofed around a bit, buuut it wasn’t entirely like her fault? She quickly went back to sleep after breaching the surface. So yeah. She was not awake for long. She quickly went back into flower mode until she woke up again at the Gloom and Bloom party.
12. He’s working on another one of his Monster prints! He sells them on his online shop here
He’s currently working on Toralei!!!!! He said he was working on her on the way over. And that he was trying to go in Order of the G1 doll releases. He mentioned he had only done Skelita out of Order because she was like ‘that one’ who was INSANELY popular with fans when she came out. Especially in Mexico. It’s also why she was the only Funko pop made who was not part of the main ghouls.
13. Random. But he actually didn’t create each backstory individually by himself. In the beginning he did A LOT. Like Frankie was the first backstory he ever created. And it got more help and divided as more and more characters were introduced.
14. he has read every single diary for every monster. Cool little fact cause DAMN theirs a whole bunch of them.
15. everything in the Ghoulfriends book series is CANON in the monster verse.
And that is ALL FOLKS! I had held those questions in for about 7-8 years. So it was everything to me to have them answered and confirmed! I really tried to ask everything that was a huge mystery to us monster folks. And I hope you guys are excited to see all these new CANON facts!!!
I’m sorry if this is not everything. Just like Robecca. I forget stuff pretty easily. I’m wracking my brain for every little detail. Unfortunately my father didn’t record as much as I would have liked. But he did get some perfect key moments! And I’ll make sure to reblog with those moments as proof of confirmation!
I love y’all! Make sure this goes viral so every monster high fan gets to hear the news!
Signing out, I’m Tumblr Spectra Vondergeist, and I report the news.
1K notes · View notes
cocteaucherry · 1 month
Text
fuckboy!suguru x reader
a/n-something I wrote in like two days, :p
cws- geto is fr a douche, nipple play, nipple piercing, tongue piercings, unprotected p in v, 18+, geto with tattoos, mention of bodily fluids, slight coercion, reader uses she/her pronouns
fuckboy!Suguru who was the sweetest boy through your years of high school.
His hair was relatively long and his face was still developing, he’d offer to help you study for upcoming quizzes and would often invite you out for coffee study dates.
The summer after graduation Geto had cut contact with most of his friends (other than Gojo and Shoko) you didn't look too deep into it, I mean he was cutting social ties starting fresh, turning over a new great leaf. Oh how wrong you were
That fall you attended your local college excited to enter a new chapter, a few weeks into your first semester everything had gone calmly until you saw him.
He was more sculpted, his raven hair cascaded down his back and, how did he get jacked in a matter of months? Although to be fair he always wore baggy clothes. To add onto his new look was a long dragon sleeve tattoo and a cool metal ball pierced through his tongue.
You wondered where this pivot came from until the rumors and whispers began, many people regaling with tears how he fucked, led them on then broke it off with swift quickness.
A pang of disappointment rang through your body, over a boy you hung out with a few times was crazy your mind told you but you couldn't care.
fuckboy!Suguru who approached you in the dining hall with a sickeningly sweet smile and his usual hushed tone, “Y/N, long time no see.” a fake smile generated on your face as you listened to him try to powder and egg you on.
“I think we should catch up this weekend whaddya’ think?”
“I don't know..”
“Come on pleasee, it'll be like old times.”
“Fine,”
“Saturday at five good?”
Fuckboy!suguru picking you up in his surprisingly nice black Jeep, for being a douche he had a suspiciously clean car. He wore baggy jeans and a tight black t-shirt, his muscles looking as if they're trying to bust out the tight fabric but your eyes are brought to his chest.
Four small metal balls on either side of his nipples and you were gobsmacked.
“It's rude to stare, angel.”
You were bought out of your gaze, a heat creeping up your neck, you hadn't registered the nick name he gave you.
The date with Suguru had gone surprisingly well, you held your breath for the level of sleaze he could give off but so far nothing came.
So how come you found yourself on his couch sloppily making out with him?
His lips attacked and bruised yours aggressively, his large hands running over the slight exposure of your skin, small grunts came from his mouth as you wrapped your legs around his waist.
In the back of your mind this went against all your morals but at the moment you didn't care.
Fuckboy!Suguru who had you ride his thick, aching cock in the comfort of his bed, you whimpered as you struggled to slam your hips down completely on his length.
His amber eyes scanned your body as his muscles tensed as he felt you clench around him. Rough hands came to your soft bouncing breasts as he squeezed a nipple aggressively in-between his fingers, “Feel how hard you make me angel?” he cooed using his other hand to slap his hand harshly on the fat of your ass.
“Letting me fuck this tight pussy on our first outing too? tch.” he clicked his tongue latching his mouth onto your erect nipple, he swirled the tip of his tongue around purposely moving the cold metal around the space.
Whines escaped from your mouth as you pleaded, “S-Sugu, let me cum please,” you moaned continuing to bounce off his cock.
“Mm should I?” he mumbled pulling off your nipple to smirk at your sweaty face, “Don't know if you earned it,” the grip on your ass getting harsher each second.
Fuckboy!suguru who edged you for about two hours that night but came about four times all over your face, tits, and ass.
Fuckboy!suguru who left you naked in his bed to smoke outside as he ran into his white haired roommate hair tousled, “Suguru, do you always have to do this shit here? I'm not getting any sleep.” he groaned, rubbing his eyes.
Suguru smirked, holding a cigarette in hand as his sweatpants hung dangerously low on his hips, “You'll be fine.”
“Who’s on the roster tonight?”
“Cute girl, met her in the dinner hall.”
“Huh, might’ve been the quickest fuck you've gotten usually you wait a week or two what's different?”
Suguru shrugged while walking towards the balcony, “No idea, just met her this week.”
Satoru raised an eyebrow with a grin, “Sugu~ y’know you're a terrible liar right?”
I feel like I could've gone a lot more extreme but I didn't wanna hurt my own feelings)
246 notes · View notes
fatecantstopme · 11 days
Text
My Past, My Present, My Future
Tumblr media
Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader, Endverse!Dean x reader
Summary: You get dragged to the future along with Dean to witness the aftermath of the apocalypse. Follows the plot of "The End" (Season 4, Episode 4)
Warnings: mentions of death, canon violence, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V), dirty talk.
A/N: If I tell you too much, it'll ruin the story...enjoy!
It had been 2009 when you and Dean had fallen asleep in a hotel in Kansas City. You were awoken by the sound of your boyfriend's voice muttering "What the hell?"
You opened your eyes to find yourself in a completely trashed room--it looked like an actual bomb had gone off. It took you a moment to realize it was the same room you'd fallen asleep in.
"Dean?" you asked in confusion.
He was staring out the window, so you joined him, the two of you now staring out a what remained of the city.
"What happened?" you whispered.
"I have no idea." He looked back at you, worry etched into his face. "We should get moving. See if we can find anyone else."
As the two of you walked through the city streets, you found yourselves completely alone--that is, until you came across a little girl crouched in an alleyway all alone.
As the little girl attacked Dean, you saw the word "Croatoan" painted on a brick wall. Dean defended himself, knocking the girl unconscious.
You simply pointed to the word, a look of dread on your face. Dean's gaze followed your finger and the same expression crossed his features.
"Shit," he muttered.
Suddenly, a group of infected people rounded the corner and spotted the two of you. You both took off running, desperate to avoid becoming their next meal.
"Dead end!" you yelled at Dean, but neither of you had time to figure out your next move. The infected people are still behind you when a heavily armed military unit opened fire on the group.
The commotion gave you and Dean the time you needed to escape. The two of you stayed hidden until nightfall. When you emerged, you noticed a sign on the fence surrounding the entrance to the city.
"Dean," you said softly, pointing to the sign. "Croatoan Hot Zone."
He stepped forward to get a better look. "August 1st, 2014? How...?"
"Great," you muttered. "So we're in the future."
"Apparently...and it ain't pretty."
You shared a look and muttered "Angels," in unison.
You managed to find an abandoned car that still had gas, so Dean hot-wired it and the two of you sped off. You were desperately trying to find a cell signal or even a radio signal when Zachariah made an appearance in the backseat of the car.
"I thought I smelled your stink on this Back to the Future crap," Dean growled.
In response, Zachariah simply began to read a Newspaper he'd brought with him. The headlines were dark, detailing some of the terrible events that had occurred in this morbid future.
"How the hell did you find us?" Dean asked in annoyance.
"Human informants from some of the fringier religious groups," Zachariah answered.
"That guy on the street last night," you said to Dean, who nodded.
"Send us back. Now," Dean demanded.
"No can do. The two of you are staying put in 2014 for a few days so you can see exactly what happens to the world if Dean continues to say no to Michael."
"You're an ass," you muttered.
Dean smirked a little. "As much as I love having (Y/N/N) as my copilot, why'd you have to drag her into this?"
"Don't worry, she'll be fine," Zachariah said with a wave of his hand. "She's here because she might be the only person who can convince you to do the right thing. She needs to see just how bad it gets almost as much as you need to."
Before either you or Dean could respond, Zachariah disappeared, zapping himself back to wherever the hell he hung out.
"Have I mentioned how much I hate angels?" you mumbled under your breath.
Dean simply nodded. "Me too, sweetheart."
"Where we headed?"
"Bobby's."
You kept your thoughts to yourself. Dean didn't need you to tell him it was unlikely Bobby had survived this, especially being wheelchair-bound. He wasn't a fool, but you knew it was better to let him have just a little bit of hope.
**********
As expected, Bobby's house was empty, save for his wheelchair and an absolute mess of junk. Dean was silent as he surveyed the room, putting the wheelchair back upright with a sad sigh.
He went to the mantel behind Bobby's desk and pried it open, pulling out Bobby's old journal. In it, he found a picture of several men with shotguns posing in front of a sign for Camp Chitaqua, Bobby and Cas among them.
He held the picture up for you to see and you exhaled softly. "Road trip?"
He nodded and the two of you headed for the camp. You managed to sneak past the guards, but as you were making your way farther into the camp, Dean grabbed your arm.
You followed his gaze and realized his once-beautiful Impala was parked off to the side completely junked out.
"Oh not you too, Baby," he whispered as he leaned forward to inspect the car.
You would have laughed if you hadn't been staring down the barrel of your own future.
"Dean--" the rest of your sentence was silenced as you fell to the ground, knocked unconscious by someone behind you.
The man was fast enough that both you and Dean were unconscious without a single sound.
When your eyes fluttered open some time later, you found yourself seated in a wooden chair, wrists gently bound to the arms. You saw Dean sitting on the floor a few feet away from you, arms cuffed to a ladder bolted to the floor. He wasn't moving and you whispered his name in worry.
"So you're awake." Had you not been staring at Dean when you heard the voice, you would have been certain it had been him talking.
You looked around, jaw dropping as Dean stepped out from his place against the wall behind you. It was Dean, but it wasn't your Dean. His face looked a little more haggard and the light in his eyes was dimmed almost to extinction.
"Who--how--?" you tried to ask.
"I could ask you the same question."
You looked back over at Dean's unconscious form and the other Dean sighed.
"He'll be fine...as long as you answer some questions. I know neither of you are some kind of supernatural creature--trust me, I tried all the tests. But he carries every weapon on him that I do and well--there's a striking resemblance." He trailed off for a moment. "Then there's you...any chance you can explain why you look like my dead wife's identical twin?"
You were saved from responding by the sounds of your Dean stirring. "What the hell?" he muttered as he realized he was cuffed in place.
"Thanks for joining us," the other Dean stated. "I was just asking your friend here why you look like my doppelgänger. Care to share?"
Dean looked between you and the older version of himself and sighed slowly. "Probably because I am you--well, the you from 2009. And she's (Y/N) from 2009. We were dragged here to 2014 courtesy of Zachariah."
Future Dean nodded. "Sounds like something he would do. He always was a dick."
You smirked a little, appreciating that somethings never changed. However, your mind was still reeling from the words Future Dean had said to you mere seconds before your Dean had woken up...dead wife.
"As much as I'd like to believe you, I need to be sure." Future Dean crouched down in front of your Dean, eyes narrowed slightly. "Tell me something only we would know."
Your Dean flicked his gaze to you for a moment before turning back to meet his own stare. "We were 19. Rhonda Hurley made us try on her satin panties. They were pink. And you know what? We kinda liked it."
You giggled lightly at his admission and Future Dean cracked a small smile and muttered, "Touché."
Future Dean stood back up, turning his attention to you. You were surprised to see the sadness in his green eyes--a look you'd only ever seen once before.
"You haven't looked at me like that since Jo and Ellen died," you said softly.
Future Dean grimaced. "A lot has happened in the past five years, (Y/N). I carry a hell of a lot more weight than I did in 2009."
You waited for him to continue, as you knew he would.
"A lot of shit happened--really bad shit. The apocalypse, demons, releasing the Croatoan virus...we lost a lot of good people, people I cared about." He sighed heavily and ran a hand over his face. "Three years ago, a small team of us tried to infiltrate a demon lair in an attempt to get Lucifer's location. I led one team, (Y/N) led the other. I don't know how, but they knew we were coming. I couldn't get my whole team out, but (Y/N)--she-she fought until the very end. She made certain her whole team made it out of there alive."
Your breath caught in your chest as you let his words sink in. You could hear the heartbreak in his voice, even though it was obvious he was trying to hide it. Your Dean let out a soft pained sound and you felt the strong urge to go to him, but the ropes around your wrists held you in place.
Future Dean continued, "When I found out they'd left her behind, I went back...the demons had already cleared out, having gotten what they wanted. I found her..." He trailed off, gaze finally raising to meet yours. "I found you...broken and bleeding. I held you in my arms as you took your last breath. I carried you back home and I built your pyre. I wouldn't let anyone else near you. I lost something that day I could never replace, and it changed me forever."
"Dean," you whispered softly. Tears filled your (y/e/c) eyes as you stared into his mossy green ones. "I'm so sorry."
He almost laughed at your response. "I just told you that you die because of me and you're the one who's sorry?" He let out a pained chuckle. "You always did love me more than I deserved."
Your expression was soft and your smile even softer. "I don't blame you. It doesn't matter why or how it happened--it wasn't your fault. I make my own choices, as you well know. So if I chose to stay behind to save other people, then that was my decision and the consequences are for me to bear."
He closed his eyes for a few moments, allowing your words to wash over him. He'd never even imagined he would have the pleasure of hearing your voice again, let alone see your smile, or hear your laugh. He felt his armor crack just enough that a sliver of the Dean you had always loved shone through. It terrified him, your ability to affect him even now, but he knew his love for you had never dimmed and never would.
"What about Sam?" your Dean asked, breaking the silence.
"There was a heavy weight showdown in Detroit a few years back. From what I heard, Sam didn't make it out."
"From what you heard?" Dean asked in shock. "You mean you weren't with him?"
"We hadn't spoken since 2009."
You had your own opinions on Dean's decision to part ways with Sam and you'd been very vocal about it. You could tell by your Dean's expression that he was shocked and guilty about how that decision had played out.
Future Dean turned his gaze to you and you saw the same regret in his eyes that you'd seen in your Dean's. But something about his expression and the intensity of his gaze made you wonder if he was regretting the same thing as your Dean.
Future Dean exhaled slowly and averted his eyes again, pulling his invisible mask back down. "I have a mission, so I have to go. The two of you are going to stay here for the time being. I can't have the younger version of me running around the camp and there are quite a few people here that remember you, (Y/N). So stay here and don't cause any trouble."
You shot a look to your Dean who grumbled something about being left chained up. Future Dean gave you one last sad look before going out the door and leaving you two behind.
"How long until you get yourself out of those cuffs?" you teased softly.
"How long until you squeeze your hands out of that rope future me barely tied?" Dean sniped back.
You smiled and shifted your left hand so you could grab ahold of the knot Future Dean had tied. It took you less than 10 seconds to get it untied and even fewer to release your other hand.
Dean shot you a grin. "That's my girl."
You rolled your eyes, scanning the room for something to pick the handcuff lock with. "You're the one who didn't tie them tightly."
"Future me," he emphasized. "Clearly he's got a soft spot for you."
You smirked. "So do you." Your eyes landed on a small pen knife sitting on the table. You grabbed it, holding it up for him to see.
His eyes sparkled with several different emotions and you knew he was reeling from everything you'd just learned. Hell, you were busy compartmentalizing all of your emotions so you didn't fall apart.
"Yeah," he whispered. "I do."
You offered him a sweet smile before leaning down to his level and picking the lock on his cuffs with the pen knife. As soon as he was free, you helped him to his feet.
"Okay, I'm gonna go have a look around," he said. "You stay here."
"Dean--" you started to protest.
"Hey, it's not like I don't want you with me, but you heard what future me said...there are people here who will recognize you--people who know you're dead."
You sighed, knowing he was right. "Fine. Why don't you go first, make sure it's clear, then I'll follow you."
Dean glared at you for a long moment, before his expression softened. He knew this wasn't a battle he was going to win. "Alright. Just stay out of sight, okay? I don't need one of these trigger-happy yahoos shooting you because they think you're a monster or something."
You nodded your agreement and Dean slowly opened the door to the cabin. You stay inside until he beckoned you to join him. You stayed close to the edge of the cabin as you waited for him to gesture for you to follow.
Just as Dean rounded the corner, Chuck Shirley stepped directly into his path, stopping him in his tracks. You stayed back, back pressed against the side of the cabin.
"Uh, hey there Chuck," Dean said.
Chuck started to ask him about what they should do about a shortage of perishable items and hygiene products before realizing Dean was supposed to be out on a mission.
"Yeah, I-uh-I was gonna head out now," Dean lied.
Suddenly, a woman crossed into your field of vision and swung a punch and a kick at Dean. He jumped back and grabbed Chuck, pulling him in-between himself and the angry woman.
Your instincts screamed for you to help him, but you knew you needed to stay hidden. You listened as the woman, Risa, yelled at Dean for spending the night in another woman's cabin the night before.
"You said we had a connection," she snapped.
You almost laughed at that--it was exactly the kind of thing Dean would say to a woman to appease her.
You watched as Risa angrily stomped away and Dean exhaled in relief. He quickly asked Chuck if Cas is around and he gestured to a cabin close by. "I don't think he's going anywhere," Chuck said lightly as he walked off.
As soon as he was out of sight, Dean's gaze landed on you and he waved at you to follow him. You followed closely behind as he entered the cabin, staying just out of sight of anyone inside.
You could hear Cas's voice, but it sounded different than you remembered it being--softer and maybe even lazier than before.
He must have spotted Dean because you heard him acknowledge him as their "fearless leader". You heard Cas tell the women in the room to wash up and prepare for the orgy.
A group of girls walked by you and Dean as you both step into the room.
"Orgy?" Dean asked incredulously.
Castiel simply shrugged as he regarded both of you. "(Y/N)," he murmured quietly. "This is a surprise."
You sighed. "I'd imagine so. I hear I'm dead."
"Indeed you are." Castiel's gaze landed on Dean. "And you're not the Dean of this time. When are the two of you from?"
"2009," you answered.
"Zachariah sent us here," Dean added.
"Ahh," Cas mumbled. "I shouldn't be surprised."
"Okay, so nice to see you and all that, but can you zap us back please?" Dean asked.
Cas giggled slightly and Dean's gaze narrowed in annoyance.
"Dude, are you stoned?"
"Generally, yeah," Cas replied.
Dean looked over at you, but you were just as surprised as he was. You shrugged and Dean let out a quiet groan.
"I don't have powers anymore," Cas said simply. "When the end came, the angels just left...bored with their playthings, I guess. When they left, so did my powers."
"Oh great," Dean muttered.
"Dean," you said in a warning tone. "Don't."
Cas smiled at you and crossed the room to give you a hug. You were a little surprised, but you returned the gesture.
"It's good to see you, (Y/N). You were always the only person who could keep Dean in line."
You couldn't help the chuckle that escaped you at his words. "We've had the pleasure of meeting the Dean of this time. I imagine he's not exactly one to defer to anyone."
For a moment Castiel's expression grew wistful, as if remembering a better time. "He used to, but he changed rather significantly when you died. It's been three years and he still hasn't gotten over your death. He's not the same Dean you knew."
You glanced at your Dean and exhaled softly. "Knowing him, he's just hid that part of himself so far down he's forgotten it even exists."
Dean's gaze met yours and you knew you were right. You could see it is eyes--he knew exactly what losing you would do to him. He knew the kind of man he would become.
Cas glanced back and forth between the two of you and shook his head. "You always could read each other's minds. It's nice to see that again. But I am curious, how did our Dean handle meeting the two of you?"
"Not well," you admitted.
"Pretty sure he was happier to see you than he was to see me," Dean muttered.
You chuckled mildly. "Well I'm the dead one, so it seems fitting."
Dean winced and you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. He tried to smile at you, but the pain in his gaze ensured the expression didn't meet his eyes.
Before any of you could utter another word, the sound of trucks pulling up sounded from outside the cabin. You let Dean walk out first, followed by Cas. You opted to remain in the shadows just inside the doorway. You could see what was happening outside without being noticed.
You saw Future Dean getting out of one of the trucks and tossing a beer to another man. They cracked them open and the other man turned his back on Dean.
You watched in horror as Future Dean raised his pistol, pointing it at the man's back. Your Dean ran out, yelling for him to stop, but it was too late. Future Dean pulled the trigger and the man fell to the ground.
Future Dean whirled around, coming face to face with your Dean, eyes full of anger. As Dean began to argue with Future Dean, you ran out in an attempt to calm both men. Castiel grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks.
The gasps and shocked faces of the people around you reminded of you of the position you'd just put yourself in. Most people were staring at your Dean in confusion, but several gazes had landed on you. You recognized a few of the faces and you knew in your heart these people had known you--the other you.
Future Dean gestured to your Dean and said, "Me and him--it's messed up, okay? But if you need to know something, then I'll tell you when you need to know it."
As Future Dean glanced around, he noticed some people were not looking at him--or at his doppelgänger. He followed one person's gaze and his body froze when his eyes landed on you. Even though he'd known you were here, it was still painfully jarring to see you.
What was worse, was he wasn't sure how to explain your presence--too many people had known you. A few of them had been there when you'd died.
You locked eyes with Future Dean and your heart ached for him. You could see the turmoil in his eyes and the difficulty he was having formulating any kind of words to address your presence. He might not be your Dean, but you still loved him--after all, he was the man your Dean would one day become.
You stepped forward, gently pulling yourself from Castiel's grasp. "Dean," you whispered softly, sad eyes meeting his.
"Some of you might remember my wife, (Y/N)," Future Dean said calmly. "I'm not prepared to explain her presence to all of you, but just know that she's not here to cause any harm."
His statement seemed to appease most of the small gathering, but you saw some darker expressions cross the faces of a few people in the crowd.
Future Dean stepped forward and grabbed your Dean by the jacket, practically dragging him towards his cabin. His gaze landed on you and he gestured for you to follow.
"Didn't I tell both of you to stay put?" he growled as he closed the door behind him.
Your Dean began to argue, but he was silenced by Future Dean's anger.
"He was infected, okay? I've been doing this a long time and you learn to see the signs. I did what I had to do."
"We know that," you said softly.
Both men looked at you in surprise, but your gaze was firmly on Future Dean's face. You wanted him to know you understood--you weren't even sure why.
"You didn't need to kill him in front of everyone," your Dean commented.
Future Dean's gaze cut to him like a blade. "Yeah because seeing my freaking clone and my dead wife was so much better."
Your Dean opened his mouth to continue the argument, but Future Dean cut him off.
"The last thing these people need is to see me arguing with you, okay? They're twitchy survivors who can't handle this. This is my time, not yours, so stay in your lane."
Dean backed off, realizing Future Dean was right. He was nothing more than an observer in this time and he needed to act like it.
Future Dean pulled out three glasses and poured a drink for each of you. Your eyes scaned his face, keen senses picking up on the emotions clearly stirring beneath the calm surface. You wanted to talk to him, get him to open up, but you knew this wasn't the time.
"So what was the mission for?" you asked gently.
Future Dean gave you an appreciative look. "Five years of searching--five long years and I finally found it." He pulled something out of his jacket and laid it on the table. "The Colt."
"How?" your Dean asked in surprise.
"Demons have been moving it around for years, but we finally got good intel on its location."
You felt uneasy as you regarded him. You couldn't read him as well as you could your Dean, but you knew he was thinking about something--something you weren't going to like. "What's your plan?" you asked warily.
"Tomorrow night," he said, dark gaze fixed on your face, "I'm gonna kill the devil."
Shock lit up both your's and your Dean's faces. "We have no idea if the Colt's gonna work!" you protested, fear lacing your voice.
"It's our only shot and I'm gonna take it," he countered.
You glanced at your Dean and you could tell he didn't like the sound of this plan any more than you did. Sure, you both wanted to find the Colt in your time and kill the devil so none of this would happen, but there was no way to know if it would work. No one had ever tried it on an archangel before.
"Can I speak to my wife alone for a moment?" Future Dean asked, further shocking you both.
"I, uhh--" you stuttered.
Your Dean looked at you sympathetically, a sad expression settling onto his face. You knew what the look meant, so you weren't surprised to hear him agree. He stepped outside, leaving you and Future Dean alone.
"You know it's hard for me," he began, "seeing you after all this time."
"It's not easy on me either," you admitted, "seeing the man you become...and knowing I'm not going to be with you much longer."
He looked down in shame. "I know I'm not the man you love." He gestured to where your Dean stood outside. "I'm not him. But I have never stopped loving you--never stoped missing you."
You closed your eyes for a moment. "I know. I can feel it."
"I knew you would," he said softly. "I'm sure knowing what the future has in store for both of us isn't something you'd expected to see."
You shook your head. "I certainly didn't expect to hear you call me 'your wife'."
A small smirk played across his lips. "You get your priorities straight when the world is about to end. Marrying you was the best thing I ever did."
You smiled slowly, but your heart ached too much to continue this train of discussion. "So why did you want to speak alone?"
He inhaled deeply. "I wanted to talk to you without him around to persuade you otherwise."
"Persuade me to do what, exactly?"
His gaze was intense as he stepped towards you. If you didn't know him, it would have frightened you. "When you go back to 2009, I want you to pack up your things and leave. Leave me as far behind as you can--run and never look back."
A mixture of shock and sorrow darkened your features. "I-I can't do that."
He reached out and grabbed your hands, squeezing them tightly. "You have to, (Y/N)," he pleaded. "It's the only way I can keep you safe--alive."
You shook your head. "I can't leave you."
He caressed your cheek gently, his calloused hands molding perfectly to your face. "I need you to do this for me, sweetheart. I know it won't be easy and I-he won't understand, but it's for the best. He'll realize it in the end."
"Marrying me was the best thing you've ever done, but you want to deny yourself that joy? Deny me?"
"I would rather suffer a thousand deaths than watch you die again. It almost killed me, (Y/N). Hell, in a way it kinda did. I'm not that man anymore, and I don't want that for him."
You touched his face gently, fingers grazing against the rough stubble on his cheek. "You're wrong, you know. I can see him in you. You might be older, damaged in ways I can't understand, but the man I love lives in you. You and I both know Dean is going to tell me the same thing when we get back to 2009. It will break his heart, but he will beg me to leave if there's even a remote chance it will save my life."
His expression told you exactly how right you were.
"Looks like you haven't changed all that much--at least not in the ways that matter."
A flicker of pain crossed his face, but he was quick to hide it. He loved you so much it hurt and he knew there was no hope for him. He had to believe that the Dean from 2009 would heal from losing you, especially if it meant you got to live.
"Sometimes, I'll lie awake at night and stare at your picture--talk to it, even. I dream of you often and it breaks my heart every time I wake up to find you're not there. I miss you with every part of my tattered soul."
"Dean..." you whispered, leaning into him.
"I know you don't love me, but I need you to know how deeply I love you, even now. You hold my heart in the palm of your hand, (Y/N). You always have."
You stood on your tip-toes and brushed your lips across his cheek. "You are him," you whispered lowly. "I love him, so I love you. Five years of hell on earth doesn't change that."
Tears filled his eyes and he pulled you tightly against him. He never wanted to let you go, no matter what the cost. He felt conflicted about loving you so much, but he knew without a doubt in his mind that the 2009 version of himself would understand.
He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before settling his chin down against it. He loved the way you fit in his arms, as if you were made for them. He wanted you so badly it hurt--an ache so deep in his bones he knew he would never be rid of it.
It took all of his strength--all his willpower--to pull away, releasing you and taking a step back.
You looked up at him with compassionate (y/e/c) eyes, wanting nothing more than to comfort him, heal his pain. You hadn't been lying when you said you loved him. You could feel the man you loved beneath the hardened exterior, and it broke your heart to see him in so much pain.
Your eyes scanned his face again, but he couldn't meet your gaze. You knew his body ached for your touch--you knew because your Dean had always been that way. It had been three years since Future Dean had felt your body against his, so you knew exactly how much it was killing him.
You sighed, glancing out the little window at the front of the cabin. Your Dean stood out there, shoulders set in that stern way you were used to seeing. Your heart ached for him--you knew it was hard for him to be in this situation. You loved him more than you'd ever thought possible and you knew he felt the same. Seeing the way his future self looked at you likely made him contemplate things he shouldn't have had to bear.
"Stay here," you whispered to Future Dean. You stepped past him, heading for the door.
Future Dean watched as you exited, eyes fixated on the way you moved--desperately trying to commit every inch of you to memory.
"Hey," your Dean said softly as you stepped outside. "You okay?"
"Not really," you admitted. "You?"
He gave you a sad smile and shook his head. "This is a lot harder than I thought it would be."
"I know."
"No, sweetheart, I don't think you do," he said gently, but firmly. "You have an idea, sure, but you don't know--not the way I do. I can see it on his face--on my face. The way he misses you, the love he so clearly feels for you...the emptiness inside of him only you can fill. I know all of those feelings, (Y/N). I can't even fathom the pain of losing you. It hurts to even think about."
You touched his arm gently and he leaned into the touch as if on instinct.
"I know what he's feeling, even if I can't fully experience it myself. I know the devastation I would feel if I lost you--I don't think I'd ever fully recover. Add to that all the loss he's experienced in the last five years and I can understand why he's the way he is. I see myself in him...and I can see myself becoming him."
Dean turned his full attention to you and his next words shocked you to your very core.
"He needs you, (Y/N). I have a bad feeling about tomorrow night and I think you might be the only thing that stops him from doing something reckless. It pains me to say this--to give you up, even for a moment, but he needs you. I know it might feel weird, wrong even, but he's me...and I get him, more than I'd care to admit."
Your lips parted in surprise. "I-I don't know if I can do that, Dean."
He touched your face gently and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "He's me, (Y/N)...and he needs you. You're his wife, after all. So go."
Your eyes scanned his face for any sign of discomfort, but you only saw sadness. Part of you hated this idea, but the other part knew he was right. You'd felt it when you'd been with Future Dean--felt his need for you so strongly it nearly overwhelmed you.
"I love you," you whispered.
"I know, sweetheart. I love you too."
He nodded towards the cabin and gave you a soft smile. You stepped away, knowing you were about to do something that felt both incredibly wrong and incredibly right at the same time.
"Where will you go?"
"I'll hang out with Cas. Don't worry about me, baby."
You nodded and watched him walk away towards Castiel's cabin. You took a deep breath and steeled yourself before turning to the door in front of you.
Future Dean seemed almost surprised to see you as you stepped back into the cabin.
"Hi," you murmured.
"Hey."
"I can't walk away," you whispered. "Not when you're in so much pain."
He looked at you in confusion, unsure of what you were trying to tell him.
You were typically so good with words, but whatever skill you normally had failed you as you looked into his haunted green eyes. There was no way for you to fully understand the emotions he was feeling, no words to explain how desperately you wanted to heal even the smallest fraction of his soul.
You crossed the short distance between you, practically crashing into him as you grabbed the edges of his jacket and pulled him down to you. The kiss surprised him, but he was in no position to pull away--wrong or not, he craved you like a drowning man in need of air.
His arms wrapped around you and pulled you flush against him, holding on for dear life as he deepened the kiss. It felt as if you were both engulfed in flames, every sensation burning you both--scarring you in a way neither of you would ever heal from.
His hands traveled down your back, slipping under your ass to pull you up into his arms. You wrapped your legs around his waist, lips never leaving his.
He carried you to a small room at the back of the cabin and laid you down as gently as he could onto the mattress. There was no bed--simply a mattress on the floor, but there were blankets and a couple pillows, just enough to be comfortable.
Your hands slid inside his jacket, pushing it off his shoulders forcefully. His lips didn't leave yours as he tugged it off and tossed it out of the way. You pulled on his henley, silently begging him to take it off too, a request he immediately complied with.
He had to pull away from you just long enough to tug the shirt over his head, but the action was enough to ground him. As he gazed down at you, his heart clenched in his chest. You were just as beautiful as he remembered, eyes full of love and adoration--an expression he'd missed desperately.
"I love you so much, (Y/N/N)," he said quietly.
Your expression softened slightly, realizing the pain he was feeling--the mixed emotions racing through his veins. "I love you too, Dean. Don't question that for a second."
He closed his eyes for a moment, leaning into the palm of your hand as you reached up to cup his cheek.
"Get out of your head, baby," you murmured. "Focus on me--on this moment--nothing else."
His eyes slowly opened, gaze landing on your face. You began to blush beneath him, his hungry expression heating you from the inside out.
"You're wearing far too much clothing for my taste," he teased, voice low and throaty.
You smirked. "I know you like to rip my clothes off, but these are my only ones--so be gentle."
He groaned, just like you knew he would. Dean was notorious for literally ripping your clothes--he'd ruined more shirts and pants than you cared to admit...not to mention most of your undergarments.
"How 'bout we make a deal?" he murmured.
You hummed in response, so he continued.
"I'll promise not to rip your pants or your underwear, if you're willing to forfeit your shirt."
You looked up at him in surprise. "I don't have another shirt, Dean."
He grinned wolfishly. "But I do."
Realization crossed your features, a small smile curling the corners of your mouth. Before you could respond, he gripped your shirt in his strong hands and tore it right in half, revealing your heaving chest.
"Dean!" you admonished in surprise.
"Sorry, baby--I couldn't wait any longer. You know how impatient I get."
As if to emphasize his impatience, he lowered his mouth to your chest, tugging the cups of your bra down to expose your soft breasts. He groaned loudly before burying his face between them, nipping and sucking at the supple flesh.
You moaned softly, fingers of one hand tangling in the short locks at the base of his skull. Your other hand slipped down his broad back feeling the heated skin beneath the tips of your fingers.
You felt unfamiliar scars, which nearly brought tears to your eyes. You hated the idea of him being hurt--especially if you weren't there to care for him as he healed.
Dean sensed your shift in demeanor and he lifted his head to observe your face. "You okay, baby?"
His soft words brought you back to the present and you offered him a small smile. "New scars," you whispered.
You didn't need to elaborate, he knew exactly what you meant. He could read you just as well as you could read him. "You were there for most of them," he murmured gently.
You relaxed slightly and he sighed before placing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"You know me too well," you remarked.
"You're the love of my life, sweetheart. There's not a damn thing I don't know about you."
Tears pricked at the back of your eyes and you desperately pushed the welling emotions down, choosing instead to focus on the here and now. "I need you, Dean," you whispered. "Desperately."
He had never been one to deny you, and he certainly wasn't going to start now. Besides, his own need was slowly becoming unbearable.
"I'm right here, baby. I'll make you feel so good--I promise."
He wasted no time in removing the rest of your clothing and his own. He wanted to take his time, really feel you, but he knew time was the one thing neither of you had.
"I need to taste you," he whispered into your ear before beginning his descent to your aching pussy.
Some things may have changed in the last five years, but Dean's skills in the bedroom hadn't. The things he could do with his mouth should have been categorized as a crime--his ability to have you screaming and shaking within minutes was still a shock after all this time.
He loved the way you tasted, the way your body reacted to his touch, the pretty sounds you made as he feasted on you. There wasn't a damn thing he didn't love about you, but he had to admit this was in the top five things he missed most about you. The way your body melded with his--two souls intertwining in the most fundamental way, the overwhelming pleasure he could only find in your arms...he'd be a liar if he said he hadn't dreamed of it often in the last three years.
Your nails dug into his biceps as you desperately clung to any part of him you could reach. Your orgasm swept over you seconds later, pulling moans and whimpers from your throat as he continued his assault.
Dean ignored the tugs on his hair, instead holding your hips even more firmly against the mattress as he continued to eat your pussy hungrily. It took mere moments for your whimpers to once again turn to heavy moans of need--your voice hoarse from begging him to keep going.
When your second orgasm crashed into you, your legs shook almost violently against his head, thighs threatening to crush him. He couldn't have been bothered to care--had you actually crushed him in that moment, he would have died a happy man.
He finally relented when you began begging him to give you a moment--just one moment to breathe. He lifted himself up to hover over you, licking his lips happily as he gazed down at you.
"You seem pleased with yourself," you said breathlessly.
"Oh I am." The pride he was feeling practically oozed from his pores. Nothing stroked his ego like making you fall apart over and over again.
You ran your hands up and down his arms in a gentle, soothing manner. He'd always loved the way you touched him--the sweet, loving action something he hadn't been used to before you.
"I love you," he whispered.
You met his gaze and smiled. "All my heart and all my soul, Dean Winchester. Always."
The reply stunned him into a motionless silence. It had been years since he'd heard those words from your lips--he never thought he would be lucky enough to hear them again. In that moment, he felt like his heart had been ripped from his chest, torn apart, and put back together...it hurt like hell, but he wouldn't have traded the moment for anything.
You noticed the change in him and you worried you'd said something wrong. "I'm sorry--"
"Don't apologize," he said immediately. "I just...I haven't heard those words in years and--well, it hit me harder than I thought it would. That was, umm--" he sighed heavily. "It was the last thing you said to me before you died."
His voice was a gravelly whisper, filled with unimaginable pain, and it nearly broke your heart in two. "Dean..." you murmured.
"You have no idea how badly I've wanted to hear those words again--to hear your sweet voice remind me how much you love me. I missed you, sweetheart."
You couldn't have known how he'd react to your statement--hell, you hadn't even thought about it...the words just poured from your mouth like they had countless times before. It didn't matter what year he was from--you loved Dean Winchester with a kind of endless passion that would outlive Death himself.
You knew this experience would change you in ways you couldn't yet comprehend, but you wouldn't change it for anything. At the end of the day, this was Dean, and there was nothing you wouldn't do for him--nothing.
"Make love to me, Dean," you whispered lovingly, eyes bright with desire.
"I could never deny you, (Y/N/N)," he said sweetly. "I won't start now."
He leaned down to kiss you deeply, pulling you back into the warm embrace you craved. As the kiss progressed, your bodies became more entangled, until it was impossible to tell where one of you ended and the other began. It was a feeling you'd only ever felt with Dean, and one you couldn't have explained even if you tried.
After what seemed like an eternity, Dean finally broke the kiss, breathing deeply. "I can't hold back any longer. I need you more than I need to breathe, (Y/N)."
"I'm yours, Dean."
The simple act of giving yourself over to him completely had him wanting to do nothing but worship you until the sun came up again.
He didn't hesitate, didn't overthink--your body was calling to him and he answered it gladly. In one single thrust, he buried himself fully inside you, eliciting sharp groans from you both.
"Fuck, sweetheart--I forgot how incredible you feel," he whispered against your heated skin.
You were breathless and aching, the desire for him to ruin you so overwhelming you couldn't think of anything else. "Move," you pleaded desperately, nails digging into his shoulder blades.
His body mindlessly responded to your pleas, hips setting an almost brutal pace. You both needed this--needed the release that could only come from each other.
You clung to him and he to you, the room filling with the salacious sounds of wet skin against skin and moans of endless pleasure.
"I love the sounds you make when I'm inside you, baby," he groaned. "I fucking missed them so much."
"You feel so good, Dean," you gasped.
"So do you, sweetheart."
And fuck did you feel incredible. He loved you so much and you felt it in every single movement his body made. You hoped he could feel just how much you loved him in return.
"You're the only woman who could ever make me feel like this," he whispered.
You knew exactly what he meant--what he was trying to say. Sex had always been different with you. It had always felt more incredible than with anyone else he'd ever been with. The profound bound the two of you shared made everything better--even sex.
"I never want you to stop," you murmured. "It feels so good."
"Shit," he groaned, your words having more of an affect on him then he'd expected. "Keep talking like that and I'm gonna cum."
"That's what I want, Dean. Want you to fill me up."
He practically growled as he bit down on your collar bone, hips slowing as he tried to regain his composure. "Need you to cum first," he begged.
You rolled your hips against his in response and the sensations he was experiencing snapped whatever remained of his self-control. He grabbed your legs and tugged them flush against his chest and began to pound into you recklessly.
His cock slammed into your g-spot with each thrust, pulling sharp cries of pleasure from your open mouth. Your hands grasped at the blankets beneath you, struggling desperately to find purchase anywhere.
He knew he could get you over the edge this way--he knew your body almost as well as he knew his own. Within a few short minutes, your cries of pleasure turned to screams of his name as one of the most intense orgasms of your life hit you like a tsunami.
Before you could come down from your high, Dean found his own, releasing his seed into your pussy. The contractions of your walls around him milked every last drop of cum from him before he collapsed on top of you, spent and satisfied.
Your arms immediately wrapped around him, holding him tightly against you. You could feel his heart beating rapidly against your chest and you were certain he could feel yours. There was nothing quite like the feeling of being in the arms of the person you love most.
"You're amazing, (Y/N)," he whispered into your neck.
"As are you," you mumbled, pressing your lips into his hair.
He held you almost as tightly as you were holding him and you knew he didn't want to ever let go. Your heart ached for the man in your arms just as much as it ached for the man currently sitting in Castiel's cabin.
Love was the most complicated emotion there was, but this far surpassed any normal situation. Dean Winchester was the love of your life in any time period--past, present, or future. You hated seeing the man you loved in pain and seeing two of him in pain complicated matters beyond belief.
"Where's your head at?" he asked softly.
You chuckled lightly--he really did know you better than anyone else.
"Just thinking about this messed up situation we've found ourselves in."
He sighed quietly. "Don't think on it too much, sweetheart. Zachariah will send you back tomorrow and everything will go back to normal."
"Except for the part where both present and future versions of you want me to leave..."
He lifted his head slowly. "It's too late for me...I'm too far gone, too deeply and madly in love with you to ever push you away. But the Dean from 2009? Yeah he loves you more than he's ever loved another person in his life, but he'll learn to live without you. He has to. Otherwise he'll wake up one day in 2011 without you and he'll feel the way that I do. He'll be forced to live with a hole in his chest that no human being could ever fill, and it'll change him, (Y/N). It'll break him."
Tears streamed down your face as you listened to his words. You knew they were true--knew it was how he was feeling, how he'd felt for years. You didn't want your Dean to feel that pain, but you knew deep in your heart you couldn't walk away. There was no timeline where you could turn your back on the one person that made life worth living...but this Dean didn't need to know that.
"No more talking," you said softly. "Let's just sleep a while."
He nodded and rolled over onto his back, taking you with him. You giggled softly as you nuzzled into his chest, finding comfort in his strong arms.
**********
You awoke to the sound of knocking on the door of the cabin. You felt Dean stir beside you, a grumble of annoyance slipping past his lips. You smiled a little at his moodiness--it was nice to see some things never changed.
You pulled yourself up and got dressed quickly, grabbing a clean henley from the small pile of clothes in the corner. It was much too big on you, but it was all you had thanks to Dean's impatience.
You opened the door of the cabin and found a somewhat sheepish looking Castiel standing on the other side.
"Is, uh, is Dean awake?"
"He mumbled something rather rude when I tried to wake him up, so I let him sleep."
Cas chuckled. "Sounds about right."
"I can wake him if you need him."
Cas looked like he wanted to say no, but knew he couldn't. "Yeah, if you don't mind. We need to start planning for tomorrow if we want this to work. People are starting to talk."
You sighed. "I'll get him up."
You stepped back, leaving the door open as an invitation for Cas to come inside. He chose not to, opting instead to wait on the porch while you went to wake Dean.
"Dean? Sweetheart?" you said gently. "You need to get up."
"Five more minutes," he grumbled.
You laughed and shook him a few times. "Come on, handsome. We've got work to do."
"Fine," he groaned. "Fine."
He sat up slowly, eyes dark with sleep. He looked up at you and you offered him a soft smile, which he instantly returned.
"You're so beautiful."
You blushed. "Get dressed before Cas comes in and sees your naked ass."
"He's probably seen it a couple times by now," he teased as he got up. "Now, where'd you put my pants?"
You laughed. "I think you threw them somewhere over there." You pointed to the other side of the room where a small pile of clothes laid.
He smirked slightly and crossed the room, grabbing his clothes and putting them on quickly.
"What's up, Cas?" he asked gruffly when he came into the main room.
"The team wants to know what's going down tomorrow and uh, past you says we need to start making a plan."
He shot you a look, but you simply shrugged. You weren't at all surprised your Dean wanted to make a plan. He didn't like this whole idea in the first place, so it made sense he would want some kind of plan in place.
"Fine. Gather the team and get them in here."
Cas went off to do as asked. The first person to arrive was your Dean. One look at his handsome face had you rushing to him and wrapping your arms around him. He buried his face in your hair and sighed softly.
"I know this is a little awkward," you said quietly to both Deans as you stepped back.
"Not as much as you would think," your Dean responded.
Future Dean nodded, but remained quiet for a few moments. He fixed your Dean with an intense gaze even you couldn't quite read. "Thank you," he said so softly you almost missed it.
Your Dean nodded his understanding. You realized it really was different for the two of them than it was for you. They were the same man five years apart...they understood each other's thoughts and emotions in a way you never could.
Before you could say anything else, Cas returned with Risa and a couple other people in tow. Risa gave both Deans an odd look before turning her dark gaze to you. You couldn't read her expression, but you felt the jealousy coming off her in waves.
"Well this is about to be uncomfortable," you murmured to your Dean, who just chuckled.
Everyone sat down around the table except for both Deans and yourself. You stood beside your Dean, and you both stood slightly back to give yourselves room to observe everyone.
Risa glared at Future Dean so intensely it made everyone uncomfortable. He gave her a confused look and simply asked, "Why are you pissed at me?"
"Something about you having a connection, but then spending the night in another chick's cabin," your Dean quipped.
You snickered softly, as did Cas. Future Dean shot a glare your way, but you simply shrugged.
"Plus your dead wife is magically not dead, so yeah, I feel some kinda way," Risa grumbled.
"The (Y/N) some of you knew is dead. This one is from 2009--same as him," Future Dean said, gesturing to your Dean. "Now that we've got that out of the way, can we please focus?"
No one dared argue with him.
Future Dean launched into his spiel about killing the devil, revealing the Colt to the other people in the room.
"How do you know it's gonna work?" Risa asked skeptically.
"It's all we've got," Future Dean answered. "We got Lucifer's location from that demon we captured last week. We know where he's gonna be for the first time in years."
"The demon might have lied for all you know," Risa snapped.
"Trust me, he was honest."
Castiel leaned towards Risa. "Dean is very well-versed in the art of getting to the truth."
You inhaled sharply, immediately understanding Castiel's meaning. Your Dean stiffened beside you and you felt the quiet rage simmering beneath the surface.
"Seriously? You went back to torture?" your Dean said angrily.
Future Dean looked at you, a resigned look of sadness on his face. You sighed and placed your hand on your Dean's arm and murmured, "Let it go, Dean."
He caught Future Dean's expression and fell silent again. There was no use arguing about his tactics now.
"Now," Future Dean said as he gestured to the map on the table. "We'll be heading in here."
"That's a hot zone," Cas said. "It's filled with Croats and demons--kinda reckless to just go barging in there don't you think?"
"Are you coming or not?" Future Dean asked, ignoring Cas's objections.
"Of course," Cas responded. "I've gotta ask though, why are they coming?" He nodded his head towards you and your Dean.
"I don't answer to you. Just know that they are coming."
Castiel put his hands up in surrender.
"Why don't you all go get supplies ready and recruit a couple more people," you suggested.
Future Dean nodded his agreement and the others left, leaving you and the Deans alone.
"Now why don't you try that again, but give an honest answer this time," you said sternly, eyes boring into Future Dean's face.
He sighed wearily. "I want you both to see what happened to Sam. Especially you." He pointed to the younger version of himself.
"What do you mean?" your Dean asked. "You said he died in Detroit."
"No, I didn't. I said he didn't make it out."
You exhaled sharply, heart nearly breaking as you realized what he was saying.
Future Dean fixed his gaze on you and you knew your assumption was correct. You instinctively reached out to your Dean in an attempt to ground him--you knew exactly how this information would affect him.
"What's going on?" your Dean asked, looking between you and his doppelgänger.
"He said yes," you whispered.
Future Dean nodded, but your Dean simply looked confused.
"The big yes," Future Dean said tiredly. "Lucifer wore him to the prom."
You gave your Dean a sad look. A flash of pain crossed his handsome features and your heart broke for him. You'd told him back in your time that he needed to forgive Sam--needed to mend their relationship. You didn't realize just how important that mending would be.
"He wouldn't do that," your Dean whispered.
You placed a comforting hand on his arm, but didn't bother to contradict him.
"Well he did," Future Dean snapped. "And when you go back, you need to say 'yes' to Michael. Immediately."
"Absolutely not!" you gasped.
Now it was Dean's turn to comfort you, his hand coming to rest on yours. "She's right. A showdown between Michael and Lucifer would torch half the planet."
"Half a planet is better than no planet," Future Dean insisted.
"If it's such a good idea, why didn't you say yes?" your Dean asked.
"Oh trust me, I tried. But by the time I was ready, the angels had given up and fucked off to wherever they are now."
"There has to be another way," your Dean whispered.
Future Dean fixed you with an expression that made everything clear to you.
"That's why you want me to leave," you began softly. "You know I would never approve of him saying yes to Michael. If I'm not around to influence him, then maybe he'll be foolish enough to say 'yes', right?"
Your Dean looked confused, but Future Dean held your gaze and you knew you were right.
"I really don't want you to die," he said gently. "But I also know exactly what you'll say...and I know the impact your words will have on my choices. Because I already made them."
"You told her to leave me?" your Dean asked slowly. "Even knowing what that'll do to me?"
"You'll both be better off."
"You don't get to make that call," you snapped.
Future Dean sighed and shook his head. "You'll both make your own decisions, but I just want you to have all the facts. Gear up. We move out in 20." With that he walked out the door, leaving you and your Dean alone.
"What if he's right?"
"About saying yes to Michael?" you asked in surprise.
Dean shook his head. "About it being better for you to leave."
You sighed quietly. "He's wrong...about all of it."
"I've seen what losing you did to me--to him...and I'm not sure that's something I can voluntarily experience."
You smiled. "I'm gonna do everything in my power to make sure you never have to."
Dean returned the smile and pulled you in closely. "I love you, (Y/N)."
"I love you too, Dean Winchester. Always."
**********
You were sitting in the backseat of the truck, listening to Cas tell your Dean about becoming human. It was weird for you to see Cas like this, hell he was driving. It was even harder to see how broken he had become and it only made you want to prevent this future even more.
You closed your eyes, desperate to fall asleep--to leave this fucked up, burned out world behind. You wanted to go home--to 2009. There was still time to change the future, to stop any of this from happening. You would give anything to stop it.
You must have fallen asleep because you were awoken by the gentle sound of your Dean's voice telling you it was time to wake up. You opened your eyes, surprised to see it was now light out.
"We're here, baby," he said softly.
You sighed deeply and nodded. You dragged yourself out of the truck and gathered your weapons along with the rest of the group. Your senses immediately told you something was off and one glance at your Dean told you he felt the same.
"Didn't you say this is a hot zone?" you asked Cas softly.
The former angel nodded.
"Then where are all the Croats?"
"Must be in another part of the city," he responded.
You and Dean exchanged a look, neither one of you believing his response.
Nevertheless, you followed the group, searching the rundown city for the building you were going to raid. When you found it, all of your hunter instincts screamed that something was wrong, but this time you weren't the first to voice it.
"Shouldn't there be a shit load of demons out here?" your Dean asked.
Future Dean shrugged. "They must all be inside."
His answer didn't satisfy you one bit, but you kept your mouth shut, choosing instead to observe him closely. The only person who knew Dean better than you was the man himself, which was proven moments later.
"Alright," Future Dean started. "You guys go in through the second story window. The three of us will sneak around back."
Risa looked more than a little concerned with the game plan. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"
She glanced over at Cas, who clearly agreed with her worry.
"Trust me, okay? They'll never see us coming," Future Dean assured them.
"Can I talk to you for a second?" your Dean said firmly, his words more a statement than a question.
Future Dean sighed, but stepped off to the side to speak with the two of you.
"You're lying to them," your Dean said lowly. "Don't deny it--I know your lying expressions, I've seen them in the mirror."
Future Dean sighed in annoyance and your Dean threatened to tell the team about his concerns, but Future Dean stopped him.
"I know it's a trap, alright? I'm not an idiot. They'll go in the front door and create a distraction while I sneak around the back."
"You're sacrificing your team?" you asked incredulously.
"They're your friends! And Cas? Come on, man--this isn't you," your Dean added.
"My inability to make the tough decisions is what got us here in the first place. Look around you--this is the end of everything," Future Dean growled. "It's my job to kill Lucifer and save what's left of this planet, so that's what I'm going to do."
"I can't let you do that," your Dean argued.
Instead of engaging in further discussion, Future Dean jabbed the butt of his gun into your Dean's head, knocking him unconscious instantly.
"Dean!" you yelled, unsure if you were calling for yours or yelling at the Future version.
"I have to do this, (Y/N)," he said softly. "I need you to understand."
Tears welled in your eyes. "I understand why you believe that, but I don't agree. It's not who you are, Dean...the man I fell in love with would never sacrifice the people he loves--not for anything."
Future Dean looked down at the ground in silence. When he lifted his head again, his face was hard--a mask of non-emotion.
"I'm doing what needs to be done," he said firmly. "Stay with him and stay out of the way."
You wanted to reason with him, but you knew there was no point in trying. Yes, he was still Dean, but you knew you would never be able to change his mind. He'd made his choices and he'd had to live with them. Now, he was just trying to make up for all the mistakes he believed he'd made.
"Go," you whispered.
He nodded and moved back to join the others. You watched everyone but Dean head to the front of the building, a feeling of sorrow weighing on your heart.
"Dean," you called softly, prompting him to turn to look at you. "Don't die."
He gave you the smallest of smiles and nodded before running towards the back of the building.
You dropped to your knees and shook your Dean firmly. "Dean, wake up!"
After a few minutes, he groaned and his eyes fluttered open. "Fuck," he mumbled.
"Hey!" You helped him into a sitting position. "You okay?"
"My head's killing me."
"He hit you pretty hard," you said gently.
The sound of gunfire urged him to his feet. "We gotta go."
You nodded and let him grab your hand as the two of you ran to the back of the building. You arrived to a terrifying scene--Future Dean was lying on the ground and a man in a white suit stood above him, his foot firmly on Dean's neck.
Future Dean made eye contact with you seconds before his neck snapped and the life left his face.
"No!" you screamed.
Your Dean grabbed you, pulling you back to keep you from rushing forward. Watching Dean die felt like having your own heart ripped out of your chest--it was a feeling you hoped you'd never have to relive.
The man turned around in surprise and your breath caught in your chest. Objectively, you'd known it was Lucifer--you'd known he'd be in Sam's body--but there was nothing quite like seeing it in person.
Dean instinctively pushed you behind him, putting his body protectively in front of yours.
"Dean, (Y/N)," Lucifer greeted calmly. "It's a surprise to see you here--especially since I killed you three years ago and well..." he looked down at Future Dean's body with a nonchalant shrug. "It must be a shock to see your brother like this."
"Why don't you just kill me now and get it over with?" Dean asked angrily.
"Well that would be redundant. I'll kill your lovely wife three years before I kill you," he said simply. "We will always end up here, Dean. This is the way our story ends."
"Deep-frying the planet and murdering billions of people? What a shitty story," Dean snapped.
Lucifer started to rant about loving God too much and being punished for it...but you'd stopped listening. You could feel the pain rolling off your sweet Dean in waves. You knew what he was thinking--he'd failed his brother and in doing so, destroyed the world.
"I'm not falling for that sympathy-for-the-devil crap!" Dean yelled, pulling you back to the present. "The only difference between you and the monsters I've hunted my whole life is the size of your ego."
If the situation had been different, you probably would have laughed. Dean's fearlessness was something you both loved and admired about him. What's more, you agreed with his sentiment.
Lucifer simply smiled. "I like you, Dean. I can see what the other angels see in you." His gaze landed on you and you felt the rage boiling under your skin. "No hard feelings, (Y/N). Your death was a means to an end--it broke what little humanity your precious Dean had left in him. It's what led us to this moment."
Lucifer turned to walk away, but Dean called after him. "You better kill me now or I won't stop until I find a way to kill you."
Lucifer's smile was cruel. "I know you'll try Dean, but I also know you'll never say 'yes' to Michael, and you'll never kill Sam. No matter what choices you make or details you change, your wife will die in 2011 and you and I will always end up right here."
"You're wrong," Dean whispered, eyes filling with pained tears.
You touched his arm gently, reminding him he wasn't alone. He leaned into your touch, but remained steadfastly in front of you--guarding you with every ounce of strength he had.
"I'll see you in two years, (Y/N)," Lucifer said with a condescending smile. "And I'll see you in five, Dean."
Before either of you could say a word, Lucifer vanished, leaving the two of you alone.
"Dean..." you whispered softly.
He turned to you, his expression full of agony. You reached for him just as Zachariah appeared and placed a hand against each of your foreheads, zapping you back to the hotel room in Kansas City, circa 2009.
Both of you turned to face the offending angel, anger your primary emotion in the moment.
"Now you know what's going to happen," Zachariah said, cutting off any rant either of you could start. "Your only option is to say 'yes' to Michael, otherwise billions of people are going to die."
"How do we know that wasn't just another one of your tricks?" you snapped.
"The time for tricks is over," Zachariah stated. "Saying 'yes' to Michael is the only way you can save the world--save (Y/N)--save your brother.
Dean turned to you, his face full of anguish. It made your heart clench in your chest and you worried for a moment he'd changed his mind.
"Nah," Dean said to Zachariah, jaw set in a firm line.
You smirked a little, watching Zachariah's facial expression turn to shock.
"Are you telling me you haven't learned your lesson?"
"Oh I learned my lesson," Dean countered. "Just not the one you wanted to teach me."
Zachariah stepped towards Dean menacingly. You instinctively stepped forward, more than willing to fight the angel to protect the man you loved. Dean placed a gentle hand on yours to let you know he wasn't scared.
"I have you exactly where I want you," Zachariah began. "I'm going to teach both of you a lesson until you get it through your thick skulls. Neither of you are going anywhere until you say 'yes'."
Dean's grip on your hand tightened and his mouth opened to give some sort of retort when you suddenly found yourself standing on the side of a highway. Dean's hand was still wrapped tightly around yours and a slightly confused Castiel stood a few feet in front of you.
"Excellent timing, Cas," Dean said in relief.
"We had an appointment," Cas stated matter-of-factly.
You chuckled softly and stepped forward to wrap the angel in a hug. He was slightly surprised by your actions, but he didn't pull away.
Dean placed a firm hand on Castiel's shoulder and offered him another smile. "Don't ever change."
You and Dean launched into the story of the last few days for you, and Castiel listened quietly.
"How did Zachariah find you?"
"Long story," Dean muttered. "But let's just stay away from Jehovah's Witnesses in the future."
You chuckled again and rolled your eyes affectionately.
Dean pulled out his phone and started to dial a number.
"What are you doing?" Cas asked.
"Something I should have done in the first place."
You smiled, knowing exactly what he was doing...and who he was calling. You were proud of him and you voiced the sentiment as soon as you were alone.
"Thanks, babe. Turns out you were right all along."
You grinned. "I'm always right."
Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Alright sweetheart, calm down." His voice was light and teasing and it warmed you straight down to your soul.
"I love you, you dork."
He smiled and squeezed your hand. "I love you too."
You were both quiet for several minutes, just watching the road as Dean sped towards your next destination.
"It's still the apocalypse," Dean said suddenly.
"Mhmm," you hummed quietly.
"So you know...the world might still end."
"Hopefully not."
"Agreed, but I'm thinking maybe we should get married."
"What?" you said in shock.
Dean shrugged. "I'm just saying...you're my everything and I want everyone to know you're mine. Besides, if this world really does end, there's no one I wanna be with but you."
"You know, normally the guy gets down on one knee."
Dean chuckled. "I can do that as soon as I stop the car."
You laughed. "Typically there's a ring too."
He grinned. "Don't worry baby--I'll buy you a big diamond ring."
You smiled and grabbed his hand, squeezing it gently. "I don't really need a ring, Dean--and I don't need you to get down on one knee. If you're serious about it, then hell yeah--let's get married."
Dean looked at you hopefully. "I'm dead serious, babe."
You touched his cheek with a smile. "Then let's get married."
He looked at the straight stretch of road ahead, not a car in sight. He leaned over and kissed you quickly, the affectionate gesture expressing his emotions better than any words he could have said.
When he pulled back to face the road, you leaned across the seat and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. Your voice was low as you said the words that had become a mantra in your relationship, "All my heart and all my soul, Dean Winchester. Always."
His smile warmed your entire body--inside and out. It had been weird hearing Future Dean call you his wife...but your Dean proposing to you now, it just felt right.
You rode the rest of the way in a happier mood than you'd felt in a long time. Dean's mood was lighter too, but you both knew it wouldn't last. There was still a lot of darkness to come, but you were both determined to make sure there were happy moments. After all, love was one of the things that made life worth living.
A short time later, you sat on the trunk of the Impala, watching the man you loved apologize to his brother. You smiled warmly as you watched them, overjoyed at the steps they were both taking to make amends.
Dean turned towards you and waved you over. You hopped down and crossed the short distance, passing Dean to wrap Sam in a tight hug. The much larger man returned the gesture, the tension easing from his body.
"Glad to have you back, Sammy," you said as you stepped back.
"Thanks, (Y/N/N)."
"We're getting married," Dean said suddenly.
Sam's eyes widened in shock and you nearly laughed at Dean's sudden admission.
"End of the world and all that," Dean said sheepishly.
You chuckled and Sam expressed his congratulations.
"No matter what happens," you said softly. "We have each other--all three of us."
Both Winchesters nodded their agreement and Dean slipped his arm around you to pull you close.
"To hell with fate," Dean stated. "From now on, we make our own future."
You leaned into him with a smile, appreciating the sentiment more than you would have just a few days prior. At the end of the day, all you had was each other and the love that bonded all of you together. None of you knew exactly what the future held, but you'd be damned if you didn't fight for a future worth living for.
354 notes · View notes
sugariea · 11 days
Text
⃗  ❪  FAIRYTALE! ࣪ ❫ — matthew sturniolo.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
starring. hockey player!matt x singer!reader. | wc : 1487
headline. a few days before your album release, everything crumbles down. your relationship, your motivation … your everything.
genre. angst angst ANGST! i had to guys i’m sorry in advance :(
Tumblr media
⌖.˚◌ december 3rd was just around the corner. what’s so special about that day? not only was it your anniversary but you were releasing your long awaited album— dedicated to him. matt and you had been together for almost two years and as an anniversary gift, you wrote this project for him to cherish. of course, you had your ups and downs but what couple doesn’t? you’ve spent almost a year perfecting and developing this and to say you were proud, was an understatement.
you sit in the studio, jotting in your journal as you listen to track 12, the last song on your album. all night, your phone had been ringing, notifications soaring through but you decided to ignore it. this was the only time you’ve had to yourself, your manager nagging you about nonsense ( sorry jenny…. ).
speak of the devil, your phone rings once again. you sigh as you accept defeat, answering the call and putting it on speaker. “jen, i’m at the studio.. i can’t tal—“ you’re cut off by her unusually raspy voice.
“have you seen the photos? the article? anything y/n? everything is royally fucked.” she rambles, her voice breaking. your eyebrows furrow, confused on her certain burst of emotion. “slow down! what are you talking about?” the stress and anxiety taking over your once relaxed mind as you sit up in your chair.
j-just look.” she sighs as your phone pings.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
POP CULTURE! — Matt Sturniolo & Yazmin Torez’s secret love life becomes not so secret?
by Jamie Whitman. November 30th, 2024 at 8:52pm
It seems like the relationship between Boston Bruin’s best hockey player and Instagram’s Favorite Influencer has become way more than friendly. Fans have previously expressed their interest in seeing these two become a couple but it got nowhere, seeing as Matt Sturniolo was in a committed relationship with two-time Grammy Award winner, Y/N L/N.
Sturniolo and Torez were spotted outside of Topgolf last night, the pair seemingly drunk as they stumbled out into the empty parking lot. Instead of waving goodbye, they started showing very sexual displays of affection on the side of Sturniolo’s car— not aware that paparazzi were only feet away. Neither of them have came out with statements— Y/N hasn’t either.
We can’t do anything but pray this doesn’t interfere with the release of Y/N’s third album, FAIRYTALE.
more to read under the cut.
Tumblr media
⌖.˚◌ you glance at your screen with your lips parted in surprise and your eyes burning as tears threaten to escape. there’s no way this was actually happening. he wouldn’t do this to you.. right? “i don’t know what type of prank you guys are pulling but this isn’t funny.” you sniffle, wiping the stray tear that rolled down your cheek.
she shakes her head as if you can see her, disappointment basically leaking from her pores. “i’m not making this up. talk to him about it and call me back, okay?” her question coming out more like a statement. you mutter a “okay” before hanging up and slumping into your chair. so much for the studio. you quickly facetime matt, preparing for him to answer and tell you this wasn’t true. unfortunately after one ring, he declines the call. your eyes widen at his audacity before you open imessage.
Tumblr media
your blood is boiling. what could he possibly say to convince you that it’s not true? you turn off the music in the studio before grabbing your phone and heading outside. the cold night air hits your skin, causing your body to relax as you reach his car. you open the passenger door before climbing in and closing it behind you.
matt looks an absolute mess. his hair is untamed, his eyes and face unbelievably red from crying. a small part of you feels bad, never wanting to see the love of your life upset but at the same time, he screwed you over. in front of the world might i add. “it’s true. the photos, the article… all of it. i’m sorry, y/n.” he says, his head swarming with guilt. you look up to see his eyes focused on his lap, too ashamed to face you. you scoff before speaking. “are you really sorry? or are you sorry because you got caught?” you ask, tears falling down your cheeks yet again.
“i’m seriously sorry. we were wasted and i know that’s not an excuse but she was there. i took advantage of that and i regret it so much.” he finally looks up at you causing your eyes to soften slightly. you quickly realize what he just said before shaking your head. “she was there? are you fucking serious right now? she was there downing shots with you while i was here, making sure the album i wrote for you was perfect! you’re an asshole, matt.” you yell, pointing towards the building outside.
any of this happening was not on your 2024 bingo card.. at all.
he reaches over the console to grab your hands, rubbing a thumb over the promise ring he gave you. “just listen to me, okay? i don’t wan—“ you cut him off by snatching your hands away and shaking your head. “was this the first time?” you question, just above a whisper. a sigh leaves his lips as he lays back into the driver’s seat. “no. we’ve been seeing each other since august.” his voice cracks slightly.
you feel your heart shatter into a million pieces once again. all this time, he was playing you. a part of you thanks him for not letting you embarrass yourself even further by putting out your album. you lick over your dry lips before nodding. “pack your shit and find somewhere else to stay. goodbye matt.” you instruct before taking off the ring and throwing it at him. you look at him one last time before hopping out the car and making your way back into the studio.
matt picks up the ring, looking at your anniversary engraved on the side. he runs a hand over his face, trying his best to not let anymore tears fall. he fucked up everything and there was no way he was getting it back.
Tumblr media
lai speaks. oh my gosh?? matt being a douche bag how do we feel? this is actually one of my fav things i’ve written so like i hope you guys like it! masterlist and all that jazz will be up soon… maybe 😬
taglist. @fawnchives @prettyvyll @trickywritters @breeloveschris @sturniolho @lorarri @gnxosblog @firexovni @tylerstacobell @ivonchetooo1239 @bernardsgf @dracoflaco @strniolo @paibey @hearts4chris @sturniololo @rootbeerworshiper @tillies33ssss @katluckybear @realuvrrr @junnniiieee07
296 notes · View notes
abbyromanoff · 7 months
Note
RQS 🙏 G!P Agatha Harkness x fem! R where Agatha wants impregnate you and has her own little and perfect family
EVERGREEN
Tumblr media
PAIRINGS: Agatha Harkness x reader
WORD COUNT: 2,245
WARNINGS: smut, angst, feelings of shame, insecure!R, breeding, magic strap ons (basically like she has a dick), mentions of cheating but no one actually cheats, pet names, lovesick!Agatha, cunnilingus, mentions of fingering, really badly written smut
NO ONE IS PERMITTED TO STEAL, COPY, OR REBLOG MY WORK AS THEIR OWN!!
Agatha had been planning this for a while now, even breaking the little amount of rest time she had to work. You were questioning what it was that she was so fascinated by, and eventually, it led to creating your own insecurities the more she gave herself to her creation.
“Why can’t you just tell me what you’re making? Even a little hint!” You begged her while standing in the kitchen, a loose robe hanging over your body. You took to making her breakfast in hopes she’d eat with you, but like always, she denied your request, stating that she was too busy at the moment.
“Because it’s a surprise, I’m not going to ruin that.” Her arms were wrapped around your waist as she pulled you in for a sweet kiss, not letting go until she remembered just how late it was.
“Shit, I have to get to work, I’ll be home just in time for dinner and I promise we can eat together tonight, okay?” You sighed and dropped your head before regaining composure, plastering a smile on your face as you bid her goodbye. She didn’t have time to question your act and ran out the door to her car where she honked once as another farewell. You watched her leave through the window with tears threatening to leak. You didn’t want your mind to travel to a dark place, but you couldn’t help but wonder if there was another woman who had truly been taking up her time. You knew she’d never cheat, you trusted her on that, but it seems like she barely has any time for you now and she’s always eager to leave. Was she losing interest in you? Were you not ‘pretty’ enough?
You sat on the couch with a plop, running your hands through your hair as you tried to control the loud sobs that made their escape. If she truly loved you, she wouldn’t be hurting you like this, even at the sake of her ‘experiment’.
You stared at the picture frames on top of the fireplace where the two of you looked beyond happy, you couldn’t help but wonder what changed. The one farthest to the left was a picture of your wedding day, The two of you were cutting the cake but she was too busy staring at you with a smile etched on her face, the moment still brought butterflies to your stomach even after all these years.
The other one that caught your eye was during the photoshoot she convinced you to do with her. You wore a casual dress, nothing too eye-catching, but her jaw still dropped when you showed her. Her arms were placed on your stomach as your back faced her, her head stuffed in your neck, she continued to agree with the fact that your perfume smells better than any of the flowers that waved in the background.
You were choking on your breath at this point, water pooling out of you worse than ever before. You grabbed your phone, opening your texts with the woman and smiling at her contact. You tried to brush that off with a shake of your head before typing out, ‘We need to talk when you get home.’, You hoped it wouldn’t worry her too much but a small part of you wanted her to worry, you wanted her to care.
And she did, the second she got the text her brows furrowed and continued to stay that way the rest of the day, until she got home, at least.
“Y/N? I’m home!” She heard no welcoming, and if it wasn’t for the lights in the kitchen along with the steam from a pan she wouldn’t have known where you were.
“Hey, what’s going on?” You didn’t spare her a glance as you continued to stir the spoon you held tightly in your fist. She placed her hands on either side of your hips and pressed her back against yours, kissing the top of your head and letting her lips linger.
“Baby? Can you talk to me, please? That’s the only way we can work out whatever it is that’s bothering you.” Her hands rubbed up and down soothingly before she turned you around, raising her eyebrow as a signal to speak.
“C’mon, how am I supposed to know what’s wrong if you don’t tell me? I sadly can’t read minds.” She grinned sadly, still receiving nothing but a small frown on your face. It pained her to see you upset, but she was starting to grow frustrated the more you refused to speak.
“You said we needed to talk, well, here I am, ready to talk, but you’re not giving me anything. Please, I just want to know what’s wrong.”
“You should know what this is about.” She sighed, shaking her head as she continued to stare deep into your eyes in search of something, anything.
“Please inform me because I truly don’t.” You tried turning back to the stove where your dinner was being cooked, but she didn’t let you. She held a tight grip on your body and refused to let you push this subject away.
“If it’s hurting you this much I want to know what it is, I don’t want to see you in pain.” She begged once again, nearing the point of giving up.
“You don’t love me anymore, do you?” This wasn’t what she expected would leave your mouth, how could you guess such a thing?
“W-what? Of course, I love you, baby, I-” She cut herself off, shaking her head in disbelief.
“But you’re not in love with me? I mean, anyone can see it at this point. You’re always so eager to leave me and the second you get home you’re on your laptop working or down in the basement, once again, working. It’s fucking embarrassing, Agatha. It’s embarrassing seeing everyone out and about with their husband or wife while you can’t even eat breakfast with me anymore.” She gulped nervously with a nod, but it was breaking her heart little by little hearing how much she hurt you.
“I know-”
“No, you don’t know! Do you know how fucking lonely it is to have your wife not even want to see you? You don’t, because I’m always right there by your side supporting everything you do and I get nothing in return!” She didn’t seem to care that you interrupted her, she just let you speak knowing you needed this. If you needed to yell at her, she’d let you, anything to make you feel better.
“I do want you, I love you more than anything, Y/N.” She couldn’t look you in the eyes anymore, seeing your tears would hurt her too much.
“It doesn’t feel like it.” You weakly stated, wiping your face in fear of letting her see you so vulnerable like this.
“Will you let me make it up to you? Because I want to show you how sorry I am for hurting you, but I understand if you don’t want that.” You took a moment before nodding, allowing the woman to finally breathe as she hugged you tightly, only pulling back so she could kiss you softly.
“The reason I’ve been so busy was because I’ve been working on something for us, something I hope you’ll like.” She reached behind you to turn off the burner before pulling you impossibly close and rejoicing in another peck, only this one wasn’t short. You could feel her love pouring into you as her tongue swiped along your lips, a small moan leaving you as you granted her entrance.
“Aggie..” You mumbled as you rested your forehead against hers, only pulling away due to the lack of air.
“Yes, my love?” She gripped you by the back of your thighs and lifted you into her arms, letting you wrap around her body with a small giggle.
“I’m sorry-”
“No, no, you don’t do the apologizing, I do. You did nothing wrong, and I’m so proud of you for expressing your feelings.” She walked you over to the closest wall which happened to be the front door and pressed you against it, her mouth landing on your neck in teasing pecks. She had to pull down the top of your turtle neck in order to do so, letting you down in the process as you finally felt the floor against your feet.
“You’re my everything, I’m so sorry I made you think otherwise.” She whispered onto your skin, but you could hear it perfectly.
“It’s okay.” She shook her head while dropping to her knees in front of you, pressing her head against your waist and staring up at you, it made you melt in the best ways.
“No, no, it’s not, not at all.” Her hands tugged slowly at your pants and you went to help her, but instead, she pushed you off of her, wanting to let you sit back and do nothing while she did the work for you.
“Please, Aggie-” You bit your lip when her tongue came in contact with your cunt, licking a long strip up your slit and resulting in a hum of enjoyment from her end.
“Tell me what you want, baby, I’ll give you anything, all you have to do is ask.” You threw your head back when her mouth wrapped around your throbbing clit and creating a soft rhythm.
“I- I want you to keep going, just like this.” Her eyes fluttered shut as you tugged on her hair in hopes of keeping her close. You could feel every vibration she sent through you, and fuck did it feel amazing.
Her fingers were prodding at your hole, tongue continuing its abuse on your swollen bud, all while she kept her eyes on you, completely mesmerized by the state she provided you with.
But then, all of a sudden, everything stopped. You opened your eyes to see your wife now standing in front of you with a devilish smirk written on her face, making you whimper.
“Give me your hand,” She guided you to palm her crotch that covered a large bulge. “You feel that? This is what I’ve been working on for so long. I hated seeing you so down whenever we’d try fertility and it failed again and again and again, so I decided to take matters into my own hands.” She found herself standing stark naked in front of you, using one hand to stroke your cheek gently while the other ran up and down your leg.
“It took a lot of time and attention but I’m certain this will work. Now, I’ll be able to feel you clenching around me when you cum, or when I hit that nice little spot deep inside you. And now, I’ll finally be able to give you my babies.” She groaned at the thought, hips bucking into nothing as she imagined the warmth you’d give her.
“Can I- can I go in now?” You nodded rapidly and instantly felt her lifting your leg and placing it on her hip, she made sure to keep you steady while lining herself up with your hole. The second her tip came in contact with your clit, she was done for. A low moan tumbled from her lips before she finally entered you, giving you time to adjust before she continued.
“Shit! I- I didn’t expect you to feel this- good!” She felt you start to grind down on her length and took that as her permission to create small, slow thrusts. While she continued to hold your leg up, she used her free palm to grasp your breasts, squeezing them harshly before tweaking and pinching your nipples.
“That hurts, h-honey.” You whimpered, cheek reddening as her intense gaze refused to remove itself from you.
“But isn’t that the best part?” You clasped onto her back for support as she sped up in her motions, scratching down her skin as you felt her poking your g-spot. The red marks you created only spurred her on further as she lifted your leg further, allowing her to reach even deeper and eliciting pornographic sounds from both of you.
“You don’t know how fucking badly I want to ruin you right now, sweet girl.”
“Then why don’t you?” You mustered up the courage to speak while the knot in your stomach only grew. It felt like a balloon ready to pop at any breathing moment, you just hoped that moment would be soon.
“You’re so tight and warm, could be in you forever.” She spoke, hearing the distant sound of the door creaking behind you the faster she went. She didn’t hold back anymore, not after you spit out those teasing words.
“You gonna cum for me, hm? You gonna make a mess, you dirty little slut?”
“Yeah- yes! Please, I want you to cum in me, Agatha!” She nodded and, only seconds later, you felt a warm liquid pouring into you, painting your walls white as you entered a deep orgasmic state. You were shocked you didn’t collapse, but that was mostly because of the hold your wife had on you.
“That’s it, taking my cum like the good girl you are.” Your breathing was heavy as you dropped your head onto her chest, smiling at the scent of your favorite perfume.
“You know you’re stuck with me forever, right?”
“Good, I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
657 notes · View notes
loveinhawkins · 8 months
Text
Part 1 ao3
When Robin and Eddie return to the trailer, Steve is still unconscious.
“Fuck, should we be worried that—how long can someone…?”
Eddie trails off, goes to check his watch reflexively before remembering that it’s stopped.
Robin shakes her head.
“This kinda thing happened, um. Before. I didn’t see much, but I… I don’t think… Billy Hargrove was completely—well. Steve had to, like, crash a car into him, and I, uh, sorta blacked out? For a bit of it? But he just walked it off, I think. Eventually. Billy, I mean. Like his body wasn’t fully… Like he didn’t really feel it.”
Eddie stares at her, reeling. A dozen thoughts scramble to be heard, many not helpful in the slightest—namely that Billy Hargrove stalked the basketball court like there was something seething within him every goddamn school day, so he can’t even imagine what that combined with the uncanny strength of The Mind Flayer would bring.
And the real major concern is—
“But Hargrove died.”
Robin looks up from where she’s been checking Steve’s head. Her fingertips are flecked with blood.
“He didn’t die from—he wasn’t killed by. By a person,” she says jerkily. “So we… we should be fine to…” She eyes the cistern lid, but her face drains of colour again.
Eddie exhales. “One problem at a time.”
He grabs Steve underneath the armpits, Robin holding his legs up.
They take him to the bedroom. Set him down, back leaning against the cabinet.
Eddie finds the handcuffs and gingerly attaches one end to a drawer handle, the other around Steve’s wrist.
Steve doesn’t even stir at the touch. His head lolls down unnaturally.
“They better not be the shitty plastic kind,” Robin says. “I’m not having him escape cause all you had was a Baby’s First Magic Set.”
Eddie’s startled into a weak chuckle.
“Excuse you, Buckley, these are the bona fide, genuine article.”
It had become a joke in the first place, actually keeping them. A year ago, maybe two. A girl from Loch Nora with a college boyfriend had either naively or intentionally thrown an open invite party—Eddie had only gone out of curiosity, wanting to see just how impressive the living space was.
He’d barely lasted an hour there, because a shithead of a ‘concerned’ neighbour called the cops on young people ‘loitering sinisterly’—as if their precious hydrangeas were in danger of being uprooted and sold.
Eddie got grouped in with a select lucky few accused of stealing. He hadn’t been, but he figured he might as well try and get something out of it. It was either Callahan’s wallet or his cuffs; Eddie picked the wrong pocket.
Now he thinks he actually lucked out, in a grim kind of way.
They take stock of everything they’ve got: lighter fluid; a couple space heaters discovered in the RV, another one found next to Wayne’s folding bed. A few bottles of alcohol along with cloths and spears. One walkie. Lighters.
Rope.
-
Nancy had left with Dustin in the RV. The plan had been for her to drop him off at the Creel House before returning to the Gate at the trailer.
But Eddie caught the steely glint in her eye as she readied herself in the driver’s seat.
Dustin sat by the table. He pinched his bottom lip between his fingers and tugged, harsh enough to draw blood. His hand was shaking.
Eddie couldn’t look at him.
He turned to Nancy.
“You’re not coming back,” he said in an undertone.
It was only once he’d spoken that he realised it didn’t come out as a question.
Nancy grabbed him by the wrist, pulled him close to whisper in his ear.
“Going to another Gate. Where Fred…”
Eddie understood: it was a last-minute change that she alone was in control of. One that Steve didn’t know.
And if Steve didn’t know, then…
The engine rumbled into life.
Eddie got out—had one last look, hand on the door. There were tanks of gasoline wedged behind Nancy’s seat.
Dread chilled him. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t be alone. That when she burned it all down, she needed someone to pull her back lest she get caught in the flames, too.
He didn’t say any of that.
Because Nancy just looked at him with something close to sympathy, as if she could tell everything he was thinking; it was already clear that whatever he said, it wouldn’t make a difference.
It didn’t stop him from trying.
“Nancy. Be careful.”
She nodded. “You too.”
Eddie shut the door behind him.
He was halfway back to the porch when he realised that the RV hadn’t pulled away. He heard the door opening again, began to turn, and was almost bowled over by the force of Dustin’s hug.
“Hey,” he said softly, once he’d caught his breath.
He ruffled Dustin’s hair and then stopped near the end of the motion, kept his hand there. Just held him.
He didn’t say it was okay, because it wasn’t.
Dustin sniffed. He pulled back and finally looked Eddie right in the eye.
“We’ll get him back,” Dustin said.
His voice wavered in the middle. But his determination was much stronger than the falter had been.
Eddie put his hands on Dustin’s shoulders. Nodded.
It was obvious that when it came to Steve Harrington, Dustin would go to the ends of the earth for him. And here he was, doing the hardest thing in the world: leaving Steve behind.
Compared to everyone else, Eddie thought, his job was simple, really. All he had to do was prove Dustin’s trust in him.
-
Steve’s face twitches when Robin shuts the window.
Eddie watches closely, holding his breath.
One eye opens, barely a slit. Moves sluggishly before finding Eddie.
“Hi,” Steve says.
He sounds… normal.
“Hi,” Eddie echoes cautiously. “Are you—um. Are you…?”
He trails off, feeling immensely stupid. What was he even gonna ask? Are you okay? Like he honestly was expecting Steve to say, Oh, could be better, but the malevolent entity inside me is a fucking bummer, man.
“How’re you feeling?” he settles on, because Steve still hasn’t moved, at least seems in control, and Eddie’ll take any semblance of normality he can get.
“M’okay,” Steve says, after a pause.
He lifts his head up slightly, notices the handcuffs. Gives a faint nod of approval. With his free hand, he gestures vaguely to the back of his skull.
“Feels… distant. I dunno.”
“Good, uh, that’s good,” Eddie says conversationally, like that will take away the reality of what he’s currently doing: tying Steve’s legs together with rope.
Both of Steve’s eyes open, his gaze turns sharper, calculating, and Eddie tenses—
“Eddie,” Steve drawls. He sounds supremely unimpressed. He shifts his legs and the knot Eddie made goes slack. “Tighter, dude.” “Oh, I’m sorry, not of all of us got our Scout’s badge.”
“Here,” Robin says. She nudges Eddie out of the way and binds Steve’s legs; the knots don’t budge. She gives a half smile. “At least Starcourt was educational.”
Steve laughs through his nose, but he grimaces a bit, like something Robin’s said is distasteful.
She puts a hand on his knee, peers at him. “Still here,” she says.
It isn’t a question, but Steve answers anyway. “Still here.”
Robin ties his free hand to another drawer handle.
Eddie catches a glimpse while he’s turning on the heaters, and his stomach twists—unbidden, thinks of Christ on the cross.
Steve nods at the heaters. “Put ‘em closer.”
Eddie does. He keeps waiting for a change, ready to leap back, but it doesn’t come. The only difference is that the pulse point in Steve’s neck starts to jump rapidly when the heaters are tilted towards him, but even that’s nothing like before, nothing like the frenzy in the bathroom.
Eddie puts his palm in front of one of the grilles. It’s only just been turned on, sure, but he can’t help thinking that it’s not nearly strong enough.
He stands in front of Steve, Robin by his side.
No-one moves.
Then Robin speaks out the side of her mouth. “Should you still…?”
Her fingers curl, palm up, and Eddie realises that she’s mimicking fret positions.
“Yeah,” Steve says before Eddie can answer, and Robin jumps. “Should still work.” His cuffed hand twitches. “S’in… Vecna. Me. Not enough… can’t control bats, too. Not—not all of ‘em at once.”
His throat clicks as he swallows, like the words are getting stuck.
“Should follow. Like… like, um.” His eyes widen for a split second, as if in panic, before he swallows again and says, a little clearer, “Pied Piper.”
Eddie glances between Steve and Robin. “Okay,” he says eventually. He steps back while Robin remains where she is. “I’ll—”
“No,” Steve says, and this time the panic remains; he shakes his head urgently. “Not alone. Don’t—not alone with—with me.”
“Steve,” Robin says.
“No,” Steve repeats, and there’s a fierceness to the word—Eddie feels it thrum in his chest, and he somehow knows that it’s not from any unnatural force, that the power is being drawn from Steve alone.
“Buckley,” Eddie says reluctantly.
She squares her shoulders. Takes a step back, eyes never leaving Steve.
Something in Steve unwinds, relaxes. His head droops, almost like he’s falling asleep. A stark vein in his neck pulses.
“Good,” he murmurs. “Good.”
Robin pauses at the door. Her eyes dart to the heaters, then Eddie.
“Are they…?”
“Highest they’ll go,” Eddie says.
Robin bites her lip.
Eddie knows what she’s thinking: that Nancy said unbearable, and right now barely one corner of the room is being warmed.
“It just takes time to, uh, kick in,” Eddie says.
It doesn’t sound convincing—sounds like he’s free-falling, desperately searching for something to hang onto.
But Robin accepts it, Eddie thinks, because what choice does she have? What choice do any of them have?
“Eddie,” Steve says, just as Robin’s stepped out of the room.
“Yeah?”
Steve wets his lips. Swallows again. It looks painful.
“It’s gonna… make him mad.”
Fear seeps down Eddie’s spine.
“We’ll come back,” he says, because right now, it’s the only promise he can make. “We’re not leaving you alone.”
“S’okay,” Steve says. He’s starting to slur his words. “Better this way.”
-
They tumble through the Gate as quickly as they can, then immediately set up the trailer defences.
“We’re lucky this is here,” Eddie says when they’re done, as he picks his electric guitar off the wall, untouched by vines.
“Yeah,” Robin says. “Lucky…”
She abruptly gasps and runs from the room.
Eddie curses, follows her—flinging the guitar across his back.
But there’s nothing in the living room, no bats to fight—just Robin pulling something out from behind Wayne’s bed, laughing with a touch of hysteria.
“Jesus,” Eddie breathes, “you’re gonna give me a heart attack.”
Then he actually processes what he’s looking at. Robin’s brought out a space heater, a bulky kerosene-fuelled one, much larger than what they’d originally rustled up.
“But that—that broke last winter,” Eddie says, bewildered.
Robin doesn’t say anything, just turns it on. The effect is almost immediate compared to what they’ve been working with: the heater glows red-hot, and Eddie already feels the urge to take off his jacket.
“Eddie,” Robin says slowly. “It’s 1983.”
“Holy shit,” Eddie says. He grabs her by the shoulders. “You’re a fucking genius.”
Robin turns the heater off, drags it to a point just underneath the Gate.
There’s a couple more treasures they manage to stash away: a match box found on the counter, thrown into a deep cooking pot Robin snatches from a cupboard.
“Oh, you mean business,” Eddie says. “That’s the good pot.”
Robin grins, and it makes Eddie’s heart ache—he knows what they’re doing, forcing smiles to hide their shaking hands.
“And what goddamn atrocity befalls it in the future?”
“That’s between me and God.”
They’re up on the roof, Robin crouched by the amp, when Eddie hears the Walkie crackle.
“Max is—bait’s still been taken,” comes Erica’s staticky voice.
“Uh, copy that,” Eddie says. “Sinclair. Henderson with you?”
A click.
“I’m here,” Dustin says quietly.
Eddie breathes out. “Good. Stick together.”
He sets the walkie down and yanks off his guitar pick. He thinks of Chrissy, her body contorting. Of Patrick, dragged from the water.
Steve’s hands clenched around the sink.
“Showtime, Buckley.”
The noise is explosive. It barely takes a few seconds for the bats to start coming; Eddie watches the horizon as his fingers fly over the strings.
Underneath everything, he can hear Robin counting out bars like she’s in band: One, two, three, four. Two, two, three, four.
Prestissimo.
“Eddie, two more bars!”
He nods in acknowledgement. Feels his heart pound as if in time with the music.
“Now!”
They run. The bats circle dumbly round the roof, some clustered onto the still ringing amp, like moths drawn to light.
Pied Piper.
“Go, go, go!” Eddie urges.
It’s tricky getting the heater through, but they manage it between them, an awkward handover across the Gate.
And then Eddie’s falling, landing next to Robin, breathless. They sit up as one, give each other a speechless high five.
Robin moves first. But she stops midway to Eddie’s room—like a reversal of when he was first brought to a standstill, seeing Chrissy’s eyelids fluttering erratically.
“Eddie,” Robin says. “You—you closed the door, right?”
“Yeah,” Eddie says, mouth dry.
He knows that for certain because as he shut the door, his last glimpse was of Steve leaning the back of his head against the cabinet drawers, eyes closed.
Now the door’s ajar.
Eddie strains to listen, but he can’t hear anything.
He feels Robin’s hand dart into his. He squeezes tight before letting go. She picks up the heater. He’s got the cooking pot under his arm.
Together, they open the door.
The space heaters they’d left are broken, cracked down the middle. The handcuffs are dangling from the drawer handle, pried open, the ropes frayed apart—and the whole room is littered with…
Shards of wood. Snapped strings.
Eddie’s guitars. They’re shattered beyond repair, the red of the Warlock mixed with the dark wood of the acoustic.
And there, backed into the far corner, is Steve.
He’s cradling his wrist to his chest—it looks badly broken. Even from here, Eddie can see evidence of splinters embedded in both hands.
But above all, what’s drawing Eddie’s attention is that his shirt is off, revealing the state of his stomach, the bandages shoddily ripped away. The wound is oozing slow, thick trickles of black and red.
Steve doesn’t seem aware that anyone’s entered the room, just mutters indecipherably to himself, hair hanging down in front of his eyes.
Eddie manages to set the pot down silently—takes one hesitant step forward, cringes when he jostles a piece of wood.
Steve’s head jerks up at the sound. He stares at Eddie, a crease in his forehead.
“Who’re you?”
Robin lets out a breath like she’s been punched in the stomach.
“It’s…” Eddie clears his throat. Stays as still as he can. “It’s me, man. It’s Eddie.”
Steve doesn’t reply.
More wood scatters across the floor—Robin stepping forward frantically, “Steve, it’s me, it’s—”
Eddie stops her with a touch to the back of her hand.
“Steve,” he says, digs deep to find a calm tone. “Who’s this?”
Steve’s jaw works.
“R… R…”
Robin’s face shatters.
She sets the heater down. Turns it on full blast.
“Robin!” Steve gasps. “Robin, it’s me, I’m still—Robin, Robin, please—”
Robin takes another step—“Careful,” Eddie whispers, heart in his throat—and forcibly shoves the heater across the room.
Steve tries to dodge it, but he’s not quick enough; the grille slams against his arm, and Eddie inhales sharply as the skin blisters an angry, weeping red.
Steve’s cries are piercing.
But they reach a peak than taper off into whimpers; he presses himself against the wall, curls his upper body around his blistered arm.
He starts to sob.
They have to get closer to hear, stepping into the circle of heat radiating from the grille, Eddie just behind Robin; sweat pools in the small of his back.
“No, no…”
It’s a dreadful whisper.
They crouch down. Slow.
It doesn’t look like Steve notices: his eyes are shut tight, lashes damp as he continues to plead, “Don’t make me. Please don’t make me.”
Eddie can’t blame Robin for what she does next.
It’s instinct—he’d seen it in his peripheral vision at the boathouse, her hand reaching out to comfort, like she couldn’t stop herself.
No, he can’t blame her. Because Steve is hurting, sobbing like his heart is going to break from it, and he’s right there.
Robin’s hand moves forward.
Eddie sees the moment Steve’s eyes open, cold and inhuman, and Christ, for a millisecond too long, he’d forgotten that they had stepped into the ring with a cobra.
“Robin,” Eddie warns, too late, as Steve’s hand seizes her wrist.
“Don’t worry,” he says, and it’s almost perfect, almost Steve’s gentle concern, but there’s something off in the inflection, a misplaced note—“I’m not killing you first.”
He twists Robin’s hand.
She doesn’t scream, doesn’t even try to move, like she’s holding her breath just to stay silent.
“I can…” Steve breathes in and out through his nose. Predatory. “I can feel her.”
“Who?” Robin says.
A vague noise rumbles from Steve’s chest, like he’s searching for a name again.
“N… Nancy,” he says eventually. “She’s dying,” he says, off-hand. “She can’t breathe.”
Eddie reaches behind. Feels carpet beneath his palm. Steve doesn’t track the movement, eyes fixed on Robin.
“She will be like… like her friend. She will know how it feels to die alone.”
Steve grunts, and then…
Eddie has to bite down on his tongue to stop himself from making a sound; the skin around Steve’s stomach wound ripples, like there’s something bubbling up underneath, moving, alive, crawling up, up, up—mottled veins spreading, black as tar.
Eddie swallows back bile as his hand finds something solid. Wood.
He feels for the lighter in his pocket.
Steve leans towards Robin, baring his teeth.
“I will—”
Click.
“—consume her.”
The jagged piece of guitar burns in Eddie’s hand.
He throws it.
Sparks fly, land directly in Steve’s eyes, and he yells, lets go of Robin—with such an impact that she’s thrown across the room, landing slumped against the cabinet.
“Robin!”
But Eddie doesn’t have any time to help her, because there’s another click, a crackle, and the walkie comes to life, and it must be on accident because all he can hear is the sound of someone—Dustin and Erica—breathing quickly. Running.
Steve’s eyes narrow.
Eddie thinks of Dustin saying, “He knows where we are, he’ll know—”
“Shit,” Eddie hisses.
He tries, desperately, to turn the walkie off, but it suddenly feels like all the air leaves his lungs, and he’s pinned against the wall, Steve’s hand on his chest.
The walkie’s wedged between them. Steve’s somehow using his broken wrist to still Eddie’s hand, to keep the walkie turned on.
Eddie has no choice but to listen to what comes through the static.
It’s chaos. Heavy, frantic breathing; it’s like he can feel the kids clutching their sides as they run. In the distance, a car, the engine stopping. A door opens.
Jason Carver’s voice. “Did you see them?”
Behind Steve, Eddie spots Robin stirring.
Steve keeps staring down at the walkie.
An abrupt cry of pain, and another voice curses, says, “Shit, Jason, I think it’s broken.”
“El?” Dustin breathes.
Something in Steve’s face flickers, but Eddie’s too terrified to know what it means—tries and fails to turn the walkie off again, but he doesn’t even know what’s the right thing to do anymore. He just wants them to be okay, he just wants—
“Jason, no-one’s fucking there. You—you can’t even stand, I’m taking you to the hosp—”
A car door slamming shut. An engine starting up, fading…
Gone.
Dustin and Erica exhale shakily. Running again, footsteps pounding up the stairs, across floorboards…
The walkie cuts off.
Steve grits his teeth.
“Please,” Eddie whispers.
Robin’s up, moving so quietly—scooping the remnants of his guitars into the pot.
Another crackle.
“Eddie!” Dustin’s voice again, up close. “Max is—the music’s not working! I—I don’t know what to—”
There it is again: that flicker across Steve’s face. A ripple in a lake.
“Max,” he says.
The name cracks with emotion, and although his voice has been used before, an uncanny imitation, Eddie knows this is different, feels it in his gut; it’s him, it’s him, it’s him.
The snick of a match being struck.
Steve’s head tilts ever so slightly, but he doesn’t turn around. Like he already knows Robin is right behind him.
Instead—
Steve pries the walkie out of Eddie’s hand. Presses down on the button. Inhales.
“Run.”
The walkie drops with a clatter. Behind them, the fierce roar of flames; Eddie’s face stings.
He can feel Steve’s grip on him loosening, feels himself sliding down the wall.
Steve’s eyes bore into his—and although dark veins have spread across the whites, like spider webs, Eddie can still see the slightest gleam of something real in them.
Something human.
Steve’s lips move, cracked and bleeding.
Now, he mouths.
“Robin!” Eddie yells.
Steve lets him go, and Eddie sees a flash of Robin throwing the entire contents of the pot over Steve, raining fire upon him; Eddie covers his face from the scorching heat, scrambling to get away, relying on touch alone, and his hand hits something, the crunch of plastic, fuck, the walkie—
He’s by the doorway, gasping for breath.
Awareness comes in stages: the fire’s gone out, charred remains of the guitars on the ground where Steve once stood; Robin’s there, her hands red raw, and she’s looking at something, what’s she…?
Steve.
Steve dragging himself across the floor, his broken wrist pressed against his stomach. Crawling to sit next to the space heater, head tipped back against the wall, eyes closed. Breathing.
Just breathing.
Then, so faintly, Eddie almost thinks he’s imagined it.
“Railroad… Snow Ball… Muppet.”
Steve thumps the back of his head against the wall with each word.
Robin goes to him.
Eddie can only watch. He feels like he’s staring at a puzzle with too many missing pieces.
Despite everything, Robin reaches out with her hand again. She touches Steve’s knee gently, and Steve falls silent, stops hitting his head.
Robin smiles, tearful.
“You’ve—you’ve changed that song for me forever,” she says, choked up, and although Eddie can’t really understand, he senses the heart in it, the echoes of their story, of their love hitting him square in the chest.
“Do you remember,” Robin goes on, laughing through it, “the first time we were closing, and you—you got that whole bag of chocolate chips? Tore the corner and just, like, scarfed it. You looked like a chipmunk. It was—it was so gross. And you just said let’s see you do better, then. So we just kept eating them, and we had to pretend we had, like, a whole week where every order had chocolate chips just so we could get another shipment. You… you made me feel like I was five years old. That’s—that’s when I knew.” Robin takes a shuddering breath. Keeps smiling. “Right there. I wanted to be your friend.”
Steve just looks at her. He blinks, and a tear falls down his face, and Eddie can see it, like the sun briefly appearing through storm clouds, can see more of him breaking through, and for a moment, just a moment, there could be a chance, please, please…
Steve’s stomach spasms, and he groans, inhales short and sharp, twists away from Robin’s touch; the litany starts again, fever-slurred.
Eddie rediscovers the walkie. There’s cracks all through the plastic—it might not even work.
But Steve keens, pressing, pressing as blood flows through his fingers, as he trips up on the words, almost insensible now, and Eddie knows he has to take the risk.
His thumb pushes the button.
“Dustin,” he murmurs, “don’t tell me where you are. But if you’re—if you’re safe. Christ, please say you’re… Steve, he—he needs you.”
Silence.
Eddie closes his eyes.
“—safe. We’re all safe. I copy.”
Eddie thinks he laughs or something close to it. Maybe something else, too. He presses his forehead against the walkie. A benediction answered.
“Eddie?” Dustin says, and his speech keeps crackling, keeps threatening to cut out, but he’s there, he’s there.
Steve blinks, turns towards the sound of Dustin’s voice.
But Eddie’s not afraid this time.
“Railroad,” Steve repeats. Soft yet intentional, like he means it with everything he has left. “Railroad.”
Eddie passes the word on to Dustin. Waits.
Dustin takes a little while to figure it out—or maybe he solves it almost instantly, but here, time moves slow: just Robin and Eddie holding their breath, Steve only mouthing the words now. Barely there.
Dustin must push his button down mid-gasp, the words rushing out.
“That’s how we—that’s when everything—”
What follows is a garbled speech Eddie can barely make sense of, as static obscures every third word or so: about the junkyard and demodogs, and tunnels, and…
“D-different details, Henderson,” Eddie says with a choked laugh.
Fondness wells up; for a second it had felt like he was listening to Dustin in the middle of a campaign, on a tangent, and Eddie knows he just has to nudge him down the right path and then he’ll work it out, because the kid’s a goddamn genius.
“Stuff he can feel,” Eddie tries.
Steve looks at him, unblinking, and God he’s still in there, Eddie thinks, there’s so many thoughts, so much of him trapped beneath the surface.
So Dustin talks about Queen playing in Steve’s car, of how the fall leaves looked as they walked, of his shoelaces coming loose, and Steve getting down on his knees in exaggerated exasperation, you’re gonna fall flat on your face, dickhead, we’ve got enough going on.
Eddie takes the thread he’s been given, adds embellishments where he can—the crunch of leaves underfoot, the steady clunk of walking on the tracks, Dustin sometimes hurrying a little, just to match Steve’s stride—and as Steve finally blinks slowly, Eddie prays.
Can you feel it? Please go there. Go somewhere safe. Go somewhere it can’t find you. “What—what else did he say?” Robin says, when Steve lips stops moving, and his eyes close; he looks so tired. “Snow Ball?”
“Yeah, that’s—” Eddie pushes the walkie button again, so Dustin can hear. “Didn’t the Middle School have something… Did you do anything for it? Like put up decorations or…?”
Robin shakes her head.
Eddie furiously racks his brains for one detail, anything—curses himself for not paying attention, for shirking the ‘volunteering’ he was forced to do that December in lieu of detention; for viewing it all with a petty indifference, when for others, it must’ve meant so—
He releases the button.
“Did you say Snow Ball?” Dustin asks, before he launches into Steve shielding his eyes from hairspray, of the forest green gift bag his mom had passed into Steve’s hands, of Steve’s surprise, his shy smile—and then it’s Erica who takes over, calling over somewhere, “Lucas, remember when we came to pick you up?”
And the Sinclairs had stayed much longer than expected because Max’s folks were late in collecting her; and when Steve came to pick up Dustin, he’d noticed and stayed, too.
“He didn’t make a big thing of it,” Max says quietly, somewhere distant; Lucas adds that Steve opened up all his car doors so the tape he was playing could be heard: The Carpenters, some Christmas medley.
“He danced with Max,” Lucas says. “We were betting on how many times he could spin her in a row.”
“Ugh, shut up.”
Eddie can hear Max’s eye roll. Her smile.
“And,” Erica says, “he actually enjoyed dad’s small talk. Like, he was fully hooked on mom and Uncle Jack’s gift wrapping contest.”
Eddie smiles, covers his mouth just in case a traitorous noise slips out. The kids sound happy, and he doesn’t want to ruin that for the world.
Steve’s eyes shine, almost like he’s thinking the same thing.
Sorry, he mouths. I’m sorry.
The walkie dies.
Steve groans again, pushing down on his stomach wound. He’s trying to hide it from view, Eddie realises.
Robin keeps reaching for him. “Steve, don’t—let me help. Please.”
Steve shakes his head. “Can’t—can’t hold it back.” His voice is rasping.
“I saw you,” Eddie says, and Robin glances at him. “Last year. At school.”
The memory comes to him all at once, sparked by the kids and the thought of Steve chatting in a parking lot, so at ease.
“I was pissed ‘cause I’d just flunked—doesn’t matter. Was walking it off outside, and you turned into the parking lot, windows down, and you looked so fucking pleased with yourself cause you’d already passed everything. You must’ve had a free period, maybe a double, I dunno. I was,” Eddie huffs self-deprecatingly, “jealous.”
Steve’s head slumps against the wall. His chest rises and falls rapidly, laden with sweat. Eddie tries not to look at the marks—where the burning pieces of wood struck his skin.
Steve’s eyes find his. One long blink.
Keep going.
“You—you were wearing these sunglasses,” Eddie says, and Robin sobs, laughs, like she knows exactly the pair he means. “And you—the radio was on, but I—I can’t remember what was—anyway, you were kinda. Singing. Or, like, humming to yourself. And you were walking to the middle school, you kept throwing your keys in the air. You caught ‘em every damn time.” Eddie chuckles. “Do you know how annoying that was? And I—I just kept watching, ‘till the bell rang, and I just didn’t get it. Didn’t get why you looked so… so happy. But I—” Eddie swallows. “I know now.”
Steve’s mouth tilts, not quite a smile—he’s trying, he’s trying.
“You were gonna go see the kids, huh?” Eddie says. “Surprise them or something, I don’t know. You can tell me later. Promise me? And you—” His voice threatens to go, but he pushes through it, because if there’s one thing Steve needs to hear, it’s this.
Just this.
“You were happy. Because you loved them,” Eddie whispers. “And they loved you.”
Steve breathes in.
And he rises up so suddenly that Robin falls back in alarm. He hits the space heater as he goes, and while it still blisters his skin, he doesn’t cringe away, more deliberately leans into it—
“Quick,” Steve mutters. “He’s mad, he’s mad, we don’t have much—”
And he lies down directly on the bed frame, his stomach still oozing that viscous black and red; Eddie’s stomach drops.
He feels strange, like his body already knows what’s coming before his mind’s caught up.
“Quick, quick—”
The smash of a bottle as Steve fumbles it, spilling alcohol on the floor—he tries again, reaches for lighter fluid and douses the whole bed frame in it.
“Robin,” he says, “Robin, please.”
She’s watching Steve’s every move with wide eyes; Eddie just looks on helplessly.
Fucking move.
“Robin!”
“Steve, I—” She shakes her head, uncomprehending—more like she doesn’t want to understand. “I don’t—”
Steve doubles over, picks something off the floor. Eddie’s distracted—stupid, stupid—watching in horror as more black veins spread up, across Steve’s shoulders, the strained muscles in his neck, and too late, he realises that Steve’s holding a lighter in his hand.
Click.
Steve drops it.
Sets the wooden slats ablaze.
He cries out, back arching—the flames lick higher, higher, and Robin’s screaming Steve’s name, running to him, like she can pull him from the flames…
There’s something else in Steve’s hand.
Robin’s trapped where she’s stood, a broken piece of glass to her neck—and Steve’s struggling against it, but his hand doesn’t move, as beads of blood dot Robin’s skin—
Eddie doesn’t know when it happened. Just knows that he’s holding a spear, and it’s on fire too, flames creeping up…
“Eddie!” Steve says. “Finish it!”
His skin writhes, contorting; Eddie thinks of Chrissy again, of Patrick—and a faint memory of Will Byers, vanishing without a trace.
It was you, Eddie thinks numbly. It was all you.
The glass presses closer still against Robin’s neck. She gasps—
And Steve begs.
“Kill me!”
The stomach wound heaves like a living creature, gaping and monstrous.
“Give him back, you son of a bitch,” Eddie breathes.
He lunges forward.
With all his strength, he digs the spear straight into Steve’s stomach; the flames surge, engulf—
Steve screams.
A black mass pours out of his mouth, and Eddie thinks he’s screaming, too, but he can’t hear anything, can’t hear anything but Steve, the torture in his voice, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, and the mass hits him; he flies through the air, feels his head smack against something solid.
Then nothing.
He comes to in the living room. Blood dampens the back of his head.
Sits up. Blinks dazedly at the ceiling. The Gate… the Gate’s gone.
Bedroom. Has to… Steve, Robin. Bedroom.
He shoves himself up, wobbles. Forces himself on.
He knows he’s lost time when he nears the room: a chill hits him from the broken window, and the flames have been put out.
Robin. Robin kneeling by the bed, burns all up her arms.
“—open your eyes,” she’s saying. “Oh my God, oh my God.”
Eddie very deliberately doesn’t fully register who she’s talking to. If he does, he’ll freeze, useless. He will never forgive himself.
“Band lungs, Buckley,” he croaks, and then he falls beside her.
Starts compressions.
You’re not going, you’re not going. You’ve got so many people to see again. No. You’re not going.
He tries just to count out loud, but even as he’s doing it, something crumbles, something breaks apart irreparably inside of him, “Don’t you dare leave, don’t you…”
Robin. Two breaths.
“I wanna talk to you, Steve Harrington, and you’re gonna fucking be there to listen, do you understand, do you…”
He loses track of what he’s saying completely, lost to wilder and wilder promises, but it doesn’t matter, nothing matters except this, except the desperate push of his hands, the crack of Steve’s ribs, Robin’s long breaths; and God, Eddie would give anything, anything at all, would tear his fucking heart out if it would help, if it meant that Steve would—
“—just breathe!”
Something jolts underneath his fingers; for a moment, it destroys him: it’s back, it’s—
“That’s it,” Robin’s saying, “there, there, that’s—”
Eddie’s head sinks down to his knees.
Wretched coughs. Gasping.
“He can’t—Eddie, he can’t breathe.”
Eddie staggers over to the window. Makes the hole bigger, again and again. Glass slices through his palms.
“That’s better, huh?” Robin’s murmuring, and Eddie can’t look at her, can’t look at who’s in her arms; if he does, the proof will shatter, and that can’t… he has to…
The phone rings.
Eddie goes to it. His arm lifts, heavy and delayed. Like he’s in a dream.
On the other end, a terrified voice.
Mike. Mike Wheeler crying.
“Did it work?”
“I—” There’s a high-pitched ringing in Eddie’s ears; he shakes his head. “I don’t—”
“I-is Nancy there? Where’s Nancy?”
And there’s that gut feeling again, the one that pulled Eddie out of the RV in the first place; “Hang on,” he says to Mike, and he lets the phone fall, pushes the front door open to stand on the porch, breathing in shallow, frigid breaths.
There’s something coming out from behind the trees.
Closer and closer, and Eddie almost assumes the worst.
But it’s Nancy. There’s ash in her hair, and she’s drenched, coated in black sludge; her teeth flash as she smiles, a pocket knife gleaming in her hand.
“I made my own Gate,” she says.
Barely missing a beat, she tilts her head to the side to throw up. She wipes her mouth with the back of her sleeve, spreads more thick tar across her face.
Underneath everything, there’s a scarlet ring around her throat.
“Your brother,” is all Eddie can get out.
Her eyes blaze white-hot.
“Mike,” she says, clutching the phone so tightly, like she would do the very same if she could hold his hand. “It’s gone, it’s all gone.” And then, louder, louder, trembling, “And whoever’s fucking listening on here, get us help. I know you’re there. I won’t stop. I won’t—”
Eddie knows she says more. She must do.
But he can’t stop staring down at his hands. At the blood.
He steps forward—almost sways, and Nancy catches his wrist.
“Don’t go outside without me. Don’t talk to anyone apart from us, Eddie. Okay? They won’t touch you. I won’t let them.”
Eddie thinks he manages a nod. He believes her. Her jaw quivers, but her head’s held up high: if a gun was pressed to her head, he knows the bullet wouldn’t take.
The phone call continues, but the sound is muffled, underwater.
Eddie comes back to himself in the bedroom doorway.
Robin’s still by the bed.
Steve’s lying there, eyes closed. His stomach’s still bleeding, slow, slow, but the veins have gone, they’ve…
“Eddie.” Robin reaches out a hand to him. “Come on. You… you can feel him breathing from here.”
Why don’t you hate me?
He should leave. He should leave.
He doesn’t deserve…
But Robin keeps reaching, and Eddie’s on his knees next to her, a coward, you’re a fucking coward.
“Here,” Robin says.
She guides Eddie’s hand. Places it on Steve’s sternum, above the awful wound, above all the pain Eddie caused—
There. A rise and fall.
Just breathing.
Eddie’s breath catches.
“I thought—” He shudders. “I thought I’d—”
Robin must sense it before he does, before he even really knows it’s happening.
“You’re okay,” she says, and she pulls him into her embrace—keeps one hand on Steve as she does.
Good, Eddie thinks. He needs to know you’re there. He shouldn’t be alone.
He turns his face into Robin’s shoulder, and weeps.
766 notes · View notes
vinvantae · 1 year
Text
Unmasked
Part 1/16
Word count : 2.1k
Tumblr media
You chewed nervously at the inside of your cheek as you waited for everything to calm down outside. The final race of 2021 had been an absolute disaster and you couldn’t help but feel at fault for it. It was your crash that caused that final safety car, a desperate attempt from George at the restart ended up with you both out of the race.
All you wanted to do was to go and apologise to Lewis, but you knew you couldn’t. You had to wait for the dust to settle before you slid out of your driver’s room and pretend to be a normal member of the Ferrari team, but you were far too shaken up to put on an act. You knew the feeling of having a race win that was supposed to be yours, torn out of your grasp - but that loss had never taken a championship victory as well.
There was a light tap on the door, followed by the Monegasque voice you’d grown so used to. “It’s me. Can I come in?”
You cautiously approached the door, opening it just enough to let your teammate slip in - your back pressing against the cold wood as he turned to face you, concern written all over his face. It was hard enough to fight back the tears when you were alone but now that Charles was with you, you could feel your chest tighten.
His eyes flickered over your face, his expression shifting to concern when a tear finally escaped - slipping down your cheek.
“…I did this, Charl.”
“No. This wasn’t on you. It wasn’t on George either. This was all Masi.” He said, taking your shoulders in his hands, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I wanted to check on you, it was a pretty nasty bump.”
“I’ll be okay, a little shaken up. I want to say something to Lewis I…” you huffed, your brow furrowing - breaking eye contact. “I know you said it’s not my fault but I can’t even begin to imagine how he feels and to not even be able to apologise for my part in it?”
Your teammate shook his head. “He wouldn’t want you to. We should get you out of here while everyone is distracted, I have to get back down to the media pen.”
With a solemn nod you began to gather up your things, your race suit swapped with standard team wear. “That’s one thing I’m not jealous of. You lot are so good at holding your tongue with the press… how you’ve never accidentally called me by my name or used she or her…”
“It’s tough, believe me. Especially when I just want to shake off all those dumb theories that you’re Nico Rosberg or, as I heard recently, Michael Schumacher who never actually got into an accident.”
“Oh wow. I mean, that’s a compliment but yikes.” You grimaced. “Can you check if there’s anyone out there?”
He nodded, before giving you a hug. He fished his phone from his pocket and waved it a little. “I’ll text to give you the all clear, drive safe.”
“Thank you.”
After receiving Charles’ text, you slipped out of Ferrari hospitality, no one even batting an eye at you as everyone moved around for the weekend - your pass listing you purely as Admin, but allowing you access wherever you needed. You couldn’t help but let your eyes flicker to the Mercedes garage, everyone crowded around the doors, clearly desperate to get a word out of Lewis but he was either already gone or hiding away like you had been.
You watched as your fellow drivers walked through the paddock towards the car park - some of them glanced at you but you knew they had no idea who you were. And the way George didn’t even spare you a glance as he walked passed with Toto only annoyed you for a split second. He couldn’t apologise to the person without a face for ending their race prematurely. He couldn’t apologise to someone simply known by their number, Thirty.
After a few races, they all settled in referring to you as such - you weren’t entirely sure where it started. You were sure Ferrari wanted something more gripping but it was the number that stuck.
It was lonely, being faceless. Everyone around you had history, something more than just a competitive relationship. To them you were nothing but another number they had to get passed on the grid. You were jealous of the way Pierre and Yuki laughed together, of the way Carlos and Lando spoke in hushed whispers. You didn’t just want to be an F1 driver, you wanted to feel like one.
It was then you saw Lewis exit out of a side door of the Mercedes building, a hood up over his head and before you could think - your feet were carrying you in his direction. Revealing yourself was not on your agendas for today but, fuck, it was tempting. You climbed over a small fence and lightly cleared your throat.
“Lewis?”
His head snapped up, clearly suspecting he’d been spotted but when he saw a girl in a Ferrari kit - his features softened a little but the confusion remained. “Hi, sorry, I’m just trying to get out of here…”
“I know I’m…” you sighed. “I just want to say sorry for the crash.”
The Brit tilted his head a little. “Hey if anything, that crash was on Williams, not you guys. George was the one who hit Thirty.”
You wanted to tell him, everything about him just made you feel like you could trust him. I am Thirty. But when you opened your mouth to speak again, your words betrayed you. “You deserved to win today… but, uhm, if you want to escape unseen? There’s another exit tucked behind the maintenance building. We’re not supposed to use it but our passes work there anyway.”
He let out a soft chuckle, his eyes flickering over your stance for a moment - pausing at your badge, taking a moment to read it. “Thanks, y/n. I’ll see you around.”
A buzz in your pocket distracted you as he slipped out of sight, so you pulled out your phone and wiped the dusty screen on your trouser leg before cupping your free hand around the screen to read the message.
MB - People are getting suspicious. May need to move to plan B. Meeting tomorrow at 8:30am.
Until recently, there was only plan A - but now, at the end of the season, you felt like they’d created the whole alphabet of plans. You remaining a secret was as big to them as it was to you; the hype of a mystery driver brought more attention to the team than anything else. And despite you being in the sport for several years now, it remained as exciting. Motorsport’s biggest secret was not going to slip away from them now, not without their permission.
You weren’t 100% sure which situation ‘plan B’ was, Mattia and the rest of the team had thrown so many strategies out there - not unlike a race - and must have decided to designate each of them a letter. You considered texting Charles, to know if he had a clue, but you knew he was out with the boys and there was a chance they’d see. He had you saved in his phone as Ferrari Admin, so maybe the text wouldn't seem so bizarre but…
Fuck. Stop overthinking.
Instead you shoved your phone back into your pocket and climbed back over the fence to join the crowds. You slipped out of the paddock with ease, blending in with the last few dribs and drabs of the teams heading back to the hotel. The driver’s parking lot was nearly empty, except for a single bicycle propped up against the rack - Sebastian leant against the wall on the phone. You took a cautious glance around before heading over to him. He was with the team for years, so you always told yourself that it wasn’t weird for you to go over if you were wearing a team kit - he talked to people from Ferrari all the time.
“Hey, y/n. Long time no see.” He smiled knowingly. “Thought you’d be long gone by now.”
“Was waiting for everything to ease off a little, been a bit chaotic with the crash.” You hummed, trying to keep your language as vague as possible - trying your best not to burst into tears from the guilt. “So, they’ve decided to do plan B.”
“Plan b?” The german raised a brow. “Do we know which one that is?”
“Not a clue, but I’m finding out at 8:30am.” Your voice lowered as a small group of Alpine’s team walked passed to get to their vehicles. “Can I call you after?”
He gave you a genuine smile, nodding earnestly. “Please do. I worry about you, kid.”
The older driver watched your demeanour shift as another group of engineers walked by - you cowered away a little, lowering your head. Sebastian was never for the whole faceless driver schtick they were putting you through; when you were on track you were fearless, triumphant but as soon as the helmet came off you disappeared into yourself. It was almost as if Thirty was a different person. He’d had you over for dinner a couple of times and truly got to see you shine and he wanted nothing more than for the rest of the paddock to see the real you.
He cautiously reached out and gave your bicep a squeeze. “Never hesitate to reach out, y/n. I know you feel lonely, but you’re not alone. I’ve got your back.”
“Don’t start, you’ll set me off.” You said, cheeks flushing a little. “I do miss you.”
“We’ll try to have dinner during the break.” He smiled, pulling his helmet on. “Call me.”
Meanwhile, across the city, Charles was sitting in a hotel room with Pierre and Max, his two fellow drivers both nursing a strong drink after the dramatic race. Max wanted to hide away a little while before joining in the celebrations - his win was not how he’d pictured it at all, so he wanted to get some liquor in him before facing everyone.
“For the biggest drunken blabbermouth…” Pierre hummed, making Charles lift his eyes from his phone. “I am truly shocked you’ve never let slip who Thirty is, mate.”
The driver shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. “They could sue me if I did. Not worth the risk.”
“Yeah but c’mon, it’s us.” Max added, nudging his shoulder against Charles’. “Don’t you think we can keep it a secret?”
“I can’t burden you with it. It’s a lot… you don’t understand how much I want to share it. Tell everyone just how amazing they are, y’know?”
Whilst Pierre completely missed it, Max never did. He never missed the way that Charles never said him - not once had he inferred that Thirty was a man like the rest of them. And that intrigued him. If one of his biggest competitors was a woman, he was definitely impressed.
“Well, whoever he is… his driving is very impressive.” Pierre said, leaning back into the sofa. “Some of the overtakes he did before the crash? Wow.”
Charles simply nodded, opting not to correct Pierre in this situation. “Well, do you want to go out for a bit? I have an early meeting tomorrow with Thirty and the rest of the team so I can’t stay out too late.”
“Oooh mysterious. What about?”
Pierre was definitely one of the most nosey about your identity - being the grid’s biggest gossip, and despite being one of Charles’ best friends, he could never get him to slip and it drove him crazy. On more than one occasion he wanted to just go up and talk to you but with a specialist team surrounding you whenever you were in the paddock, it was impossible.
“I don’t know. Just that it’s early.” The Monagasque brushed his friend off. “Let’s just go okay?”
Max gave his friend a sympathetic pat on the back before the three of them head out for the night. Charles trailed a little behind, trying to shake off his nerves. One thing he hated more than you being faceless, was that outside of meetings and sneaky visits to your drivers room, he wasn’t allowed to spend time with you.
You intrigued him and, merde, you were beautiful. It felt unfair that he had a secret teammate that was not only insanely talented and passionate but looks to boot. You had enough on your plate without one of the people you trusted crossing the line by admitting any feelings.
He also had no idea how you felt. So he convinced himself that being your confidant and friend was enough.
Little did he know, the universe - or more specifically, Mattia and the team - had different plans for you.
****************************************************
Next part >>>
Here it is! Hope you enjoy ❤️
I will not be doing a tag list for this fic but appreciate the support you’ve all already shown regardless!
913 notes · View notes