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frankly-ricciardo · 1 month

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LOST IN THE PADDOCK.

MV1 X FEM!READER

summary getting lost in the paddock and bumping into the current world champion was definitely not on your bingo card.

cw amara is the only oc, no use of y/n. this is my first time writing rpf since middle school, so bear with me. ALSO, this is a work of fiction: i don't know these people irl, i don't know how they act. NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER.

face claims girls on pinterest but you can obviously disregard them, and imagine whoever you want.

masterlist | taglist

—

"Ah, fuck," you mumble to yourself, panickedly walking away from the direction you came from while also looking for your best friend.

You call her name a few times in hopes of her popping her head out of the Ferrari building's corner but to no avail. The group and guides you had been with are nowhere to be found, and you have to avoid bumping into employees wearing the entire rainbow as they hurry around you.

You curse the moment you decided to enter the giveaway for those tickets. Although you weren't a Formula One fan, simply because you never fully listened to Amara's ramblings and analysis, when you stumbled across a giveaway of otherwise very expensive tickets, you didn't hesitate to enter it. Despite entering for her, you kept it a secret. The list of entries was long, and the odds were not in your favour, so you didn't want to get her hopes up. You couldn't contain the bubbling excitement when you got the e-mail verifying your win for two Paddock Club tickets for the Spanish Grand Prix.

After announcing it to your obsessed-with-cars best friend, you decided to make it a five-day trip, planning to sightsee Barcelona before the race weekend and spend a free day after it. The first day had been great, albeit tiring, but you had woken up the next day buzzing with anticipation to walk around the paddock. You were the assigned photographer, as you knew Amara would want to listen to everything the guide said. You were content with taking pictures of the place and her.

Until now. You were definitely not happy with being the camera guy. Because of that, you'd just lost your group in the middle of God-knows-where, with no idea where the building you came from was. So immersed in your grumbling and reading the map on your phone- you collide with someone. Your phone and water bottle slip from your fingers, and the tote bag slips from your shoulder to your elbow. You hiss at the sudden weight shift.

The smell of rich cologne enters your nostrils, but you don't dare look up. Your cheeks burn. "Sorry." You bend down to grab your things.

The man seems to have the same idea, as seconds later, he's on his knees and gathering his things before you can reach them. "No, it's alright! I wasn't looking where I was going."

He extends his full hands with a smile, and you return a sheepish one before grabbing your things. You take a second to look at him. He wears a Red Bull cap and T-shirt, looking like everyone who hurriedly passed you with papers and phones in their hands. I should ask him for directions. He looks like he knows the place.

"Uh...Is there any way you saw a group of people with guides walking around here? I'm supposed to be with them, but I kinda lost them." You lift the camera, further explaining why you're separated from them.

He can't help but chuckle at your flushed cheeks. "Unfortunately, no," he pauses. "Are you here for the weekend?" You nod. "Haven't they given you a map, then? They usually do, to avoid people getting lost."

You show him your phone. Your fingers brush as he pulls it closer to look at the map. "Yeah, they have. But I can't figure it out. Kind of my first time coming to something like this."

He looks at you briefly before returning his gaze to the phone. "Really?" He sounds surprised. He shouldn't.

You looked out of place compared to the rich-as-fuck members of your group. You had no idea how people dressed for these occasions. Even Amara didn't really know what to pack, so you both agreed to wear comfortable clothes. With the race being during June and in Spain, you would rather be comfortable than sweaty. The only thing tying you to the group was the Paddock Club pass you wore around your neck.

"My best friend is really into this. Loves the sport. I won us the tickets, but I'm barely grasping the basics." You laugh, and he joins. You like the way his eyes crease when he smiles wide.

"Oh, you're the ones that won the tickets! Someone told me about that, I think. Congrats!" You thank him. "How's your weekend so far?"

You shrug. "T'was really fun. Until I got lost while taking pictures of the Ferrari building." He snorts.

Leaning next to him, you try to follow his finger as he scrolls around the zoomed-in map. "You figured it out yet?"

"I think I have, yeah." He shows you the phone. "We're here. The garages are right there. You'll be watching the race on the floor above them." You nod, slowly grasping your surroundings. Turns out it's easier to figure it out when you're not panicking and a handsome stranger is helping you. "You got it?"

You flash a bright smile. "Yeah, actually, I think I do!" You look at him. "Thank you!"

He shrugs. "No problem. I know it's easy to get lost, especially with so many people running around."

"Still. Thank you. You probably have to be somewhere, and I took up a lot of your time." You step back, turning in the direction he'd shown you.

"Don't worry about it." He fixes his hair under the cap.

"Thanks again." You wave and turn to leave.

"Hey, I forgot to ask you." You turn, confused. "What team are you supporting tomorrow?"

Oh, shit.

It's like a deer caught in headlights situation. You suddenly forget all ten names of the racing teams, desperately racking your brain for an answer. You swear you know all ten.

"Uh..." you nervously clench and unclench your water bottle. "Ferrari?" It's more of a question rather than a statement.

He laughs, and your cheeks return to their warm state. Bad answer?

"Ferrari?" He asks as if saying really? You shrug, and he huffs a laugh.

"I told you I'm not good at this!"

You hear a shout and simultaneously turn to see a man in a Red Bull shirt beckoning him over.

"I have to go. But you should watch out for the Red Bulls. I hear they got the better cars!" He winks and waves before walking away from you.

You roll your eyes and smile wide on your lips. Of course, he'd tell you to cheer for his team. The back of your hand touches your cheek. It's incredibly warm. You blame it on the hot weather.

—

"I'm telling you, mate! She had no idea who I was!"

Lando rolls his eyes. "And I'm telling you there's no way. Your face is plastered everywhere."

It's Charles's turn to roll his eyes. "Or maybe she was more worried about finding a way back than asking for pictures."

"Yeah, maybe she was being polite. Didn't want to attract any attention to you." Albon adds.

Max shrugs. "I don't know."

"Was she pretty?" Oscar elbows Lando's ribs, as the latter can't contain his giggle.

Max's neck flushes. He shrugs again. "Yeah, I guess."

"Ohhhhh!" George and Lando pat him on the back teasingly, and Charles laughs at Max's expression.

Before they can tease him about this mystery girl more, a woman wearing a headset informs them they have to part ways and get ready for qualifying.

—

"And Fernando was so bloody nice, too! He was more than happy to sign the cap for you!" Amara waved her hands excitedly as she recounted everything you missed while lost.

You sat near the windows overlooking the pits, watching as the teams got their cars ready for qualifying, far away from the TVs and the crowded tables, not wanting to converse with anyone but your best friend. You chewed on your extremely expensive pasta, intently listening to her meet-up with some of the drivers.

"I can't believe you met the only driver I know," you whined, lips pouting sadly.

"I swear I didn't realise you were gone until they stopped us to greet the drivers. I was fully into that tyre explanation the guide was giving."

"Gee, thanks." You smile, giving her the middle finger.

"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that. Without you, I wouldn't even be doing the stuff we did today." Amara pulls on your middle finger, and you both giggle.

"So, tell me what you did when you were alone," she urges, sipping her drink.

"You mean when you left me wandering like I was looking for my mother?" She gives you a pointed look. You shrug. "I stopped a Red Bull guy to give me directions. He was helpful and cute. Also took some pictures while I was making my way back here."

"Oh, was he a mechanic or what?"

"I don't know. Didn't catch his name." You smile as you recount his advice. "He told me to look out for the Red Bulls because they have fast cars."

"Well, he's not wrong."

You finish your food and drinks, chatting until qualifying is about to begin. You sit on the balcony, watching the cars drive on the track. You get settled, watching the small screen in front of you, commentary loud in the headset you wear. Qualifying goes by quickly, with Amara explaining things you don't understand and you nodding along.

It's no surprise—in Amara's words—that Max Verstappen came first in his Red Bull. He's the one dominating this season, after all. Second comes Carlos Sainz, and third place takes Lando Norris. Your best friend cheers a little more for him. You shoot her a look, and she just shrugs. "What? He's fast, and he's handsome." You laugh.

You decide to leave before others, not stick around for post-qualifying interviews. Although there's a great chance you can catch drivers, take pictures and get them to sign autographs, you're both far too exhausted to stay. There's always tomorrow, Amara says, and you agree.

You're looking through the Uber app to find a car available to take you back to your hotel when you hear Amara all but screech beside you. You look up, watching as she runs towards a wall decorated with a gigantic poster of three drivers. You recognise Lewis Hamilton and Charles Leclerc and...Oh, shit.

"Can you take a picture here," she calls your name pleadingly.

Your eyes are wide and glued to the tall poster, even as you pull the camera up to your face. You snap a couple of pictures before Amara walks back to you. Her wide smile falters as she watches you stare at the poster intensely. You rack your brain for his name and know that you should know it. Amara has mentioned it before, but you just can't put your finger on it. He's in Red Bull, so it's either Checo Perez or—

"Is that Verstappen?" You point to him.

"Yep. Two-time world champion." Amara looks at the poster and then back at you, eyebrows furrowed. "Why are you looking at him like that?"

"He's the guy from earlier."

"What?!"

—

yourusername

liked by amaraiscool, yourmom, and 167 others.

tagged amaraiscool

yourusername chatted with a guy today, turns out he's the current world champion.

view all comments

amaraiscool i can't believe you met max verstappen

> yourusername amaraiscool i cant believe you let me get lost

amaraiscool and i can't believe you didnt recognise him.

> yourusername amaraiscool hes cuter in person, too bad you didn't get to see him :))

yourfriend1 THE DRESS IS SO CUTE, AMARA WTF DROP THE STORE!!!!!!

liked by yourusername

yourfriend2 johns freaking out rn lol

> yourusername yourfriend2 AW, i bet hes not being as dramatic as amaraiscool was when i told her :,)

> amaraiscool yourusername met THE max verstappen.

—

"You should totally text him," Amara says between bites.

She offers you a piece of chocolate, and you offer her a bewildered look. The hotel room's TV is playing a random spanish show, but with no subtitles, you can barely grasp what they're saying. Amara is scrolling on TikTok beside you.

"Text who?" You already know who.

"The two-time world champion. Duh." She rolls her eyes.

Amara hadn't stopped talking about the Max interaction since you'd pointed at his gigantic poster. The more she spoke on it, wiggling her eyebrows, the more you blushed. She had gone over a thousand scenarios, all of which you ended up hooking up with him. You had to remind her that despite his popularity, he was a stranger to you.

"I don't have his number, 'mara. I told you he just helped me find my way."

She flicks your forehead. "That's what Insta is for!"

"No."

"But why!?" Amara whines in your ear loudly, like a child when you take their candy away.

"It's weird! He's cute and all," you sit up, pointing your finger up," but he doesn't know my name," you put another one up, "he'll think I'm creepy," you point a third one, "and that is if he sees the requested message."

"Uh, you're ruining my scenario-building process."

"That's what Tumblr is for. Leave my quiet, boring life out of this." You dramatically sigh.

"Isn't that how all fanfiction starts? Boring and quiet life turned upside down?" Amara tilts her head.

"I don't know, 'ave never read any." You shrug, lips pursing.

She huffs a laugh, and you hold in yours. "Liar."

There's a pause. You think over Amara's suggestion. Max Verstappen is cute. And it wouldn't hurt to try and get his number. You'd never see him again after this weekend. And the worst he could say is: "Security, please get her out of here!"

What the fuck am I thinking? He's a literal superstar. Me bumping into him was a one-time thing.

Ah, fuck it. It's not the end of the world.

"You know what?" Amara turns to look at you. "If I get the chance tomorrow, I'll talk to him. Try and get his number."

Her eyes almost pop out of their sockets. "What?"

"I mean, I'm never seeing again? Right? It could go either way. He doesn't call for security to escort me like I'm crazy fangirl, or he does, and we pray no cameras recorded the moment."

Amara shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant, but she can barely hold her wide smile. "Sounds like a plan to me."

"Not much of a plan. I'm just indulging in your delusions."

You share a laugh before you fall back in bed beside her. You shuffle closer to your best friend's side, eager to watch the TikTok edit she is staring intensely at.

"Oh, look, it's your future boyfriend!"

"Shut up."

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18ls · 1 month

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MAX VERSTAPPEN / REQUEST — hard-launching you’re married to him.

you can tell max is onto something when you walk into the paddock, he's been your boyfriend for several years now. and yeah, the relationship is a secret but you have a job in the paddock so it’s not like you don’t look his way longingly when he’s racing.

you’re a journalist for sky sports, so your name it’s quite known on the sport. always so cunning, asking the right questions, the drivers couldn’t even hate you, you were always a step ahead.

so walking down the paddock talking to your coworker, you see max walking the opposite direction of you, you lock gazes and he grins at you, a cat-like grin, and it downs on you when he passes next to you.

“hi.” he extend his hand to shake yours, your coworker looks at you funny because why max verstappen it’s trying to shake your hand in the middle of the paddock? you take his hand, giving him a confused look when you feel what’s in his hand.

your eyes widened, giving him a alarmed look as you take the ring he bought for you a year ago when you two got engaged. he grins at you again, giving you a look, you shake your head. “now? really?” he nods and walks away, talking to his pr.

your coworker stares at you, confused. “what was that?”

you look at the ring in your hand, and you hear your coworker gasp as you put it in your finger. “y/n? what’s going on?”

you can’t believe max, sneaking your wedding ring into the paddock just to jumpscare you with it in the middle of it.

“is that what i think it is.” she says, you give her an amused look, nodding.

“little shit he is.”

you see him after the quali session, he’s on the media circle talking to another journalist when he makes eye contact with you. he raises an eyebrow and looks back at the journalist who’s asking him about the ring in his hand. he unashamedly raises his hand to the camera and shows off the ring on his finger.

“yeah, married, you didn’t noticed?” he taunts the journalist, a playful grin on his face.

little shit.

#max verstappen drabble #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen blurb #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen scenario #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x female reader #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

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theemporium · 11 months

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🥺👉👈

Best friend Eddie has had a *thing* for reader since middle school. But is worried to go for it (reader is sweet, smart, and funny. Probably would be popular if she didn't spend so much time with the "freaks".) So he'll take any little bit of affection he can get from her.

(I think we've all seen from the show and the interviews that JQ's love language is touch.)

Maybe Eddie starts hugging her and holding her a lot until one day at lunch he puts his hand on her knee and she moves it onto her thigh under her skirt (?).

You can take it from there 😂 that's the extent of my genius.

thank you for requesting!🖤

part two

Eddie Munson had always been an affectionate and touchy guy.

You had been friends with him for many years and it was an undeniable fact the boy loved to show his affection through physical touch. Whether it was an arm thrown over the shoulders of the younger boys in the club as they make their way to the classroom to start the latest campaign, or whether it was knocking shoulders and excitedly hugging his bandmates when they make a breakthrough on a song they had been working on.

Eddie was an affectionate guy and that treatment was extended to you too.

It also just happened that he had a massive fucking crush on you and felt like his heart was going to burst through his chest every time he touched you.

It had been a normal Thursday. Classes had been long and torturous, but Eddie was practically bouncing in his seat to head towards the cafeteria for lunch. When he walked into the room, he saw you sitting in your usual seat—the one right next to him at the head of the table.

It was difficult to wipe the grin off his face as he made his way towards the table, slumping down into his seat and not even wasting a moment before he was gripping the back of your chair, dragging you close enough until your thighs were pressed together. He did this every day but something about you liked the way your heart skipped when he pulled you closer.

It baffled Eddie why you always sat with them. You weren’t in Hellfire, not really. You never played but you enjoyed listening to them rant and ramble about it. You had other friends you could have sat with, ones that wouldn’t have made you seem as though you were a ‘freak’ along with the rest of them. But despite Eddie’s insistence that he wouldn’t be offended if you sat somewhere else, you still chose the seat right next to him—to make your own point.

You were very happy and content where you were, settled under Eddie’s arm with your head resting against his shoulder as he continued to discuss the latest campaign with the other boys. You smiled softly, watching how excited and animated they got and the way Eddie’s face glistened in pride at how much they loved his campaign.

But then your thoughts started to wander and you felt something warm just above your knee, your eyes darting down to see Eddie subconsciously place his hand on your thigh and gently stroke the skin exposed by your skirt.

You pressed your lips together, not saying anything. You didn’t want him to move his hand, maybe because you weren’t sure Eddie saw you as anything but a best friend. And with this—with this, you could pretend it was something more.

Then his hand moved up a little, the movement almost a little hesitant like he was waiting for you to push it back down.

But you didn’t.

You waited for him to shift higher but it stayed firmly where it was, a couple of inches below the hem of your skirt. Your eyes darted up, seeing the boys still screaming and yelling at each other across the table and lost in their own conversation. You stole a quick glance at Eddie, finding his eyes firmly stuck on the boys but the hint of a smirk on his lips gave you another idea.

Your fingers slowly wrapped around his wrist, giving it a soft squeeze before you began to guide his hand higher up your thigh. It inched closer and closer until—

Eddie cleared his throat when you pushed his hand under your skirt, your thighs clenching together to trap his hand there. He pressed his lips together, forcing himself to keep his face neutral as though blood wasn’t roaring in his ears and going straight down to his cock.

Your legs parted a little, just enough for him to move his fingers once again. You kept your gaze anywhere but your lap, the heat rushing to your cheeks warning enough that you would instantly blow your cover if you saw the sight of his hand between your legs.

Eddie’s fingers slowly crawled further up your leg, his fingertips teasing your clothed cunt. You let out a small gasp, quickly covering it up with a cough as you felt his fingers press more firmly against your panties.

You nuzzled yourself against his side, the action not uncommon and, therefore, ignored by the rest of the group. Your face was practically pressed against the fabric of his jacket, muffling the small sounds that left your lips as his fingers grazed up and down your cunt—the touch too light but enough to make you squirm.

Nobody even questioned it when Eddie ducked his head down, his lips pressed against your ear and his warm breath fanned across your skin.

“You’re so wet, baby,” he muttered, his voice low enough that only you could hear him. “And I’ve barely even touched you.”

“Eddie,” you breathed out.

“I didn’t know you liked this kinda stuff, sweetheart,” he murmured, his fingers pushing against your clothed clit as you fought the urge to squirm. “Letting me do this to you when anybody could see.”

“Shit,” you hissed, the fabric of your panties soaked.

“Who knew my best friend was such a slut,” he cooed softly.

“Eds,” you whined slightly, your cheeks flushing when you felt his thumb press slow circles on your clit.

“Or maybe you’re just a slut f’me,” he teased, grinning a little when you nodded your head. “A shame, baby.”

Before you could even process his words or the way your stomach twisted in delight at his words, he was pulling his hand away and resting his hands on the table like nothing happened.

You gaped at him, your panties now soaked and your body desperate to feel his touch again but the boy just shot you a look.

“Later,” he said, eyes darkening a little when he noticed the way your thighs clenched together. “Keep ‘em on all day and you’ll get a reward later, in my van.”

You bit your bottom lip.

His lips grew into a smirk. “Gonna make sure that pretty little skirt of yours is fucking ruined, sweetheart, don’t worry.”

And then he returned to the conversation about his campaign like nothing was wrong.

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things one shot #stranger things smut

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s-4pphics · 5 months

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click! 1 (e.w.)

SYNOPSIS: you need a roommate, and you love eggplant. [college au]

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

WARNINGS: photographer/roommate!ellie, ocs an artist with a reputation :p, they’re both rude as shit, crack, all ocs are black coded yeeahhh yeah, awkward meetings, slut-shaming, brief cunninglingus, mention of eviction, smut later yall know tha vibes

two. three. four.

A/N: short part just stay w me lemme cook... excited 2 write this lets get this shit yall

“W-What do you mean you’re moving?”

Your roommate and best friend wrapped her arms around your neck, pulling you close. Tears flooded in your eyes as she whispered the daunting news, your heart cracking in your chest.

“I’m moving soon, stink.” Too soon, according to her. She’ll be gone by next week. Amaya snickered sadly as she cooed in your temple. “It's for good reason, though.”

Your ears perk, a curious hum vibrating her shoulder.

“I got that internship— “

All sadness melds into excitement for your favorite person. You leap into her arms with squeals of congratulatory joy, planting smacking kisses all over her squishy cheek.

“Oh my god! You should’ve said that first, bitch! What the fuck!” You wipe your tears on her hoodie.

Her laughter rattles through your neck, “I just found out after class! I almost got hit by a fucking bus reading the email.”

Amaya sets you down, rambles about her new position as a songwriting intern spilling from her like an overfilled glass. Tears of joy flow from you and her as she retells every detail about her acceptance. She’s leaving in a week and a half and going farther than you thought.

“Girl… you’re really moving to New York?”

“Only for like… four months, max. But yeah… Boutta be on BET come next year— “

“Maya.”

“Hm?”

“… I can’t pay rent by myself,” you whisper, cringing and embarrassed.

You hate to ruin her moment, but you’re concerned; Living off campus isn’t cheap and moving in the middle of the semester is less than ideal. It’d be a fucking hassle, and — to be frank — you’re not a people person.

People like having you around because you’re fun, sure. But your reputation isn’t what you hoped for it to be when you moved out of your dad’s place for school. You wanted to be recognized for your creativity, and while your professors never hesitated to praise your talents, your peers failed to see past the status that was placed upon you.

Frankly, you’re deemed as a dumb whore, especially after your falling out with one of the campuses best softball pitchers.

It wasn’t even your fault. One raunchy snap to the wrong person and people think you live for sex and sex only! Just when you think everyone is over slut-shaming…

“You thought I was gonna leave you to fend for yourself? Guess what I did.”

Oh God. “What?”

She twiddles her fingers together villainously, “I may or may not have set up an application on the student homepage— “

The small glimmer of hope washes away, shoulders dropping, fingers coming up to massage your temples.

“Maya…” You exhale, trying to keep calm, “You know those things don’t fucking work!”

Roommate compatibility is a fucking scam. No one ever notes how they actually are in the application. You think you’ve found someone that’s clean, quiet, stays out of your space without permission and the next day you find dead roaches under your couch. College attendees have no idea what bleach is and it makes you sick.

“Damn… you’re usually optimistic.”

“I’m optimistic about good ideas. I’m gonna be living with a fucking freak from Craigslist, thanks a lot.”

“C’mooon! You’ll be fine, babe, trust me.” Amaya wraps her arms around your neck once more, wetly smacking your cheek before turning to paddle to her room. “Plus, you’ll meet someone new!”

When you don't follow, she spins. She must’ve noticed your impassiveness, poutingly asking to help me pack? Tears overwhelm your ducts once more, quietly taking her extended hand as she leads you to her bedroom.

DAY ONE of roommate searching began, and you were already prepared to move back in with your dad. Amaya had enough time to orchestrate the housing agreement with you, making sure to highlight some of your most important characteristics in a roommate. One of the main ones being cleanliness. Some form of organization.

DAY TWO was easier… Someone finally made it to the in-person interview stage. They didn’t make it far, though; They wouldn’t stop smacking their gum and it drove you crazy. Back to square one.

DAY SIX came around and you were losing hope; Why are frat boys applying to live with you? You’d rather jump into oncoming traffic than house with any of Abby’s annoying, dirty friends. You've seen their house on numerous occasions and it never fails to make your skin crawl.

It’s DAY THIRTEEN, and Amaya’s gone. After the sobbing fit with your best friend at the airport earlier, you got back to work.

DENY REQUEST.

…

DENY REQUEST.

…

DENY REQUEST.

You sigh in exhaustion and lean back in your chair. If you don't take a break from your screen in the next five seconds, your eyes will bleed.

Why are people… so odd?

The number of applications you’ve had to deny in the last week is criminal; Why are cis-het men continuously filling out applications knowing they’re not welcome in your space?!

Even the people that made it to the in-person interview stage are incapable of being… not strange. You’d rather die than live with someone who collects dead maggots in mason jars (yes, you did almost call the police when they described their fascination with death in depth)!

All you need is one fruitful application with an identity to match! Just one.

Amaya still calls from New York whenever she has a moment of peace to see how the roomie-search is going, but you can’t ignore the sadness that fills your heart every time she misses a call. Her laughter is gone, and your day-to-day life feels empty.

They’re already working your bestie to the bone; You hope she can feel your encouragement from thousands of miles away.

You scroll and click, scroll and click, scroll and deny deny deny until you pause, your eyes skimming over the application with a familiar name.

ELLIE WILLIAMS.

Ellie from stats, you instantly recognize. Curiosity perks and your brows furrow, sipping lukewarm tea as you skim over her contact information, her pet preferences, all the way down to her additional commentary. A snicker left at her blunt statement.

temporary request. my last roommate moved and i’m poor. just waiting on this job approval.

… Ellie in a nutshell. How relatable.

At least she’s not a complete stranger. Every interaction with her stirs in your mind as you jot her number down on a lone sticky-note. They were nothing special from your perspective: the two of you exchanging notes, her holding the door open as everyone scurried out of class, you asking for a pencil (and her asking for it back after the lecture), and you can’t help but wonder why she would want to apply to share a space with anyone, let alone you.

She's only ever been described as standoffish by your peers. From the outside, Ellie’s blank. Flat tone, flat expression, plain appearance, and the fact that you never know what she’s thinking is unsettling. You’re thrown off your game whenever she’s near and you hate it.

But the spot is temporary; Amaya will be back in a couple of months, and it seems Ellie’s leaving sometime soon by her small note.

You down the rest of your tea and stretch where you sit, pondering. Trying to imagine Ellie in your space.

“I don’t know why I can’t take Maya’s spot. I’d make an excellent roommate.”

Your expression flattens, glare piercing through your good friend.

Abby scoffs, “C’mooon! I mind my business...” She pauses, leaning across the table, nearly knocking your coffee over. Her whispers send a shock down your spine, “…and I give good head. I’m a package deal.”

A brow raises. Abby’s sweeter than candy and she puts it down, but you already made the mistake of living with someone you fucked before, and you vowed to never do it again. If Amaya hadn’t given you a place to stay after the blow up between you and your ball-throwing sneaky link, you’re not sure where you'd be. Definitely not a student; The stress would’ve forced you to collapse. And drop out.

“Sorry, stink. Not happening.”

She rolls her eyes, “Whatever.” She takes a sip from her drink, “Can’t believe you’d let that freak in before me.”

You pause. “You’re a freak, too— “

“I’m the good kind!” She searches like someone’s watching her, voice dropping to a whisper, “Ellie’s fucking weird, dude. When’s the last time you’ve seen her interact with anyone? A literal fucking NPC. All she’s programmed to do is stand and look.”

“And give out pencils,” You interject with a snicker, ��Who cares. I don’t like most of the idiots here, either. I barely put up with your ass.”

Abby raises her glove-covered palms in surrender, “Fuck it. When I see an alert about a missing student, I’ll know who it is.”

“You’re so fucking extra— “

DING!

Your neck cranes towards the opening cafe door, shock surging through your body at the sight of the NPC in question. Ellie silently stands at the back of the line, headphones secured on her head and nose red from the cold, classically bored expression plastered on her face.

“Oh, this is hilarious,” Abby huffs, “Go greet your new housemate.”

Another glare is sent in her direction, “Can you shut up? Her name’s not on any lease. I barely talked to her.”

“Do it now, then. Triple dog dare you.” Abby smirks behind her cup.

You sigh and raise from your seat, “You’re a cunt.”

“The wettest. Go.”

You flick her forehead before making your way over to Ellie, who’s mindlessly scrolling through her phone. Her sniffles get louder with each step you take, metal music blasting through her speakers.

You tap her shoulder and she jumps, sliding one of her ear cups over to hear.

“Hey, Ellie,” you smile politely.

“… Sup,” she mutters hoarsely, turning her body towards you, eyes filled with… nothing. Expected.

Silence passes, and you fill it, “I got your app yesterday. Just wanted to come and introduce myself.”

“Alright.”

More silence. You can see Abby out the corner of your eye, mockingly swiping her tongue between her index and middle finger. You flush and stutter, and Ellie’s staring like you have two heads.

“I, uh… yeah. I’ve been having interviews with some people that submitted a form. You free sometime this week?”

“Uhh…” She glances down at her phone. “Yeah. Around five tomorrow.”

More silence. Fuck, this is awkward.

“… Cool.” You pull your phone out and text her saved number, the alarm ringing from her phone. “That’s me. Just call before you stop by.”

She nods and turns her back to you, cranking her music to full volume. You gawkily shuffle where you stand before hustling back to your table, Abby cackling to herself. You plop down and kick her under the table, but she laughs harder.

“What’d I say!”

“Not a thing,” You hiss, “She’s just a little awkward. It’s not that serious.”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Oh yeah what.”

“She’s definitely your fucking housemate.” She tsks in disappointment before a smirk appears, her eyes darkening. “Can I eat it one last time before she moves in?”

A jolt surges in your tummy, your hand closing into a fist. You kick her again and she giggles.

Time passes as you and Abby’s conversation carries on like normal. Another ding rings through the coffee shop after some time, and you watch Ellie’s backpack bounce as she rushes down the sidewalk; Abby’s rambles about a soccer player she’s trying to smash sound like gibberish.

Ellie has a Spider-Man charm and laminated polaroid latched onto her zipper.

… Cute.

You’re going to fail statistics over a random.

Your professor’s voice sounds like white noise; Every pause she takes is used as an opportunity to sneak glances at Ellie. None of your notes are useful; The doodles and sloppy scribbles are solidifying that incoming F, for sure. Only fifteen minutes until you’re out of here.

She’s two seats down from you, jotting down whatever she deems necessary for the midterm. You didn’t even register her answering the professor’s question, her rosy lips curving around her teeth with each syllable.

Ellie blinks slowly, twice, three times before her eyes lock with yours, brows furrowed, evidently confused at your gawking.

Your stomach drops with your gaze, fingers curled tightly around your pencil.

The lecture finally comes to a close as your thoughts flurry, wordlessly shoving your books into your bag. A light tap on your shoulder yanks your attention.

Ellie stands before you, puffer cinched under the bands of her backpack and cheeks just as rosy as before.

“Hey. Can we switch the time?”

“Huh?” Don’t stare, don’t stare.

She sighs, “The time for the interview. Can we change it?”

You blink dumbly, “Uh… sure. To what time?”

Agitation creases her brows. “Now. Something came up and I can’t miss it.” She pauses, eyes flicking awkwardly around the room, weakly adding, “If that’s okay.”

“Um… yeah, no problem…” You peer at the clock on the wall, “You want a coffee?”

A slight wince from her. “… Yup.”

She clearly doesn’t by the way her fingers are anxiously tapping on her thigh, but you nod nonetheless, hurriedly grabbing your belongings and leading her down to the student lounge.

“I don’t want you thinking this interview is one-sided,” You pray your gentle smile is calming the evident nerves of the freckled girl. “You can ask me anything you want, as well. If you have any concerns, any questions, shoot.”

Ellie’s eyes are glued to her coffee cup, but her head bobs, expression void. Silence simmers between you.

“I usually start these off with an icebreaker to get the jitters out! Just list three facts about yourself and I’ll follow.”

Ellie’s lone hand comes up to scratch underneath her ear before meeting your gaze. Her eyes are so pretty; Too bad there’s nothing behind them.

“Or I can go, sure, so!” Your hands clap together, “I’ll start with myself. I’m majoring in graphic design, I’m secretly a theater nerd, and I dream about owning an eggplant farm.”

The girl before you clearly didn't expect that last statement. Her brows crease and the corner of her lip arches upward in a barely-there smile. Foreign to her face.

“That’s not a fact,” She mutters, the shell in her pupils cracking. Just slightly.

“Who cares, I love eggplant. Best vegetable by a landslide.”

“Sike.”

You scoff in disbelief, “What?”

“Everybody on the planet knows that squash is god-tier— “

You squint, “Squash? Are you deadass?”

“It’s fucking versatile!” Ellie’s voice pitches higher, and your grin widens, “You can put it in everything and you don’t have to do much. Eggplant sucks up everything in the pan and still comes out soggy and tasteless— “

Choked laughter leaves your mouth, “If you don’t know how to cook, just say that.”

Her mouth drops in exaggerated shock. “I know how to fuckin’ cook.”

“Right.”

“I do, what the he— “

“Fun fact about Ellie: she can’t cook!” You kiddingly sneer. She chuckles and shakes her head, tongue poking the inside of her cheek. You almost miss her statement, “I take pictures.”

“Hm?”

“I wanna be a professional photographer... At some point. I take pic— “

Ellie’s phone vibrates on the table and she leaps into action, snatching her bag from beside her and standing from her seat.

“Wait— “

“I gotta go,” She mutters as she straps her bag around her shoulders. “Sorry. See you later.”

Ellie throws some bills on the table before dipping, her phone pressed against her ear, rambling about making time. She barely touched her coffee.

Could’ve been worse, you utter to yourself.

Days pass, and you don’t hear from Ellie.

When you saw her in stats two days after the interview, she hardly acknowledged you, morphing into the hermit that you knew her to be. You noted how tired she looked, though. You would’ve asked if she were okay if she hadn’t run out of class without a word.

You’re weighing your options: allowing a random oddball into your apartment, or allowing a random oddball who hates eggplant into your apartment. Rent is due next week, and Amaya’s space is still vacant.

At this point, the roster is almost nonexistent, and Ellie was the least concerning candidate. Despite Abby’s concern, she doesn’t seem like the type of person to bury dead bodies in the front lawn.

“I dunno, friend. She’s a little weird. Getting mad incel vibes from her.”

Your eyes roll back into your skull as you munch on cashews, “You’re getting vibes from someone you never talked to. She seemed cool at the interview.”

“Yeah, 'cause vegetable debates are so note-worthy,” Amaya scoffs.

She’s starting to sound a little too much like Abby, “I think y’all are forgetting that this is a temporary solution. I’m not tryna spend the rest of my fucking life with her! I need rent paid and she needs a place to stay for a few months.”

Your best friend’s sigh drags through the line, “Alright… It seems like you made up your mind.”

“Like I said, rent is due. I don’t have many options.”

“Stop stressing. You found my replacement, apparently.”

She pauses before hollering, “BITCH, IT’S SATURDAY! WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU INSIDE? WHERE’S ABBY?”

“Out smashing soccer players.” You huff.

“Damn… My fault.”

“I’m chilling. I just need head.”

“Go out! Find somebody!”

You groan, “Then I’ll have to shave— “

“Nair exists, you bonehead! Just go! You keep calling in a bad mood and it’s getting on my nerves!”

You ponder and glance at your digital clock. It’s not even ten… Abby did tell you that Kappa was throwing.

“I can hear the engines turning in your big head. Bye.”

Laughter explodes from you at the dial tone.

“Hey, Siri… call Abby.”

“CALLING ABBY BIG DICK SLUT— “

Tonight has been a blur since you left your apartment.

You remember making it halfway through Blam Boom before your speaker died, downing your last couple of shots of 1800, and Ubering to the location Abby pinged.

It only took a few minutes for her to scoop you up onto the packed kitchen counter and shove her tongue in your mouth. One shout of I’m horny from you and she was yours for the rest of the night.

Now you’re pressed up against some bathroom sink upstairs, Abby’s head shaking between your legs, your jeans and underwear flung onto the shower rail. Each flick of her tongue is both clumsy and precise, applying pressure exactly where you need it.

Your clit’s throbbing under her tongue, the muscle igniting the flame in your tummy as your climax builds, zaps in your spine. Cries of her name meld with the booming music from outside, the walls rattling like nerves in your toes.

Abby’s gorgeous under you, you know it, the drunk part of your brain knows it, your desperate cunt knows it, but you’re no longer thinking about her compared to earlier. Your mind is elsewhere, somewhere it shouldn’t be.

You’re thinking of freckles. Green eyes instead of blue. Chapped, rosy lips, and you don’t know why. But you succumb to it. Ellie’s trapped underneath your eyelids, crowding your senses, your empty head suddenly full of images of her in any way you could conjure.

Your orgasm shatters you, but you’re silent, trembling hand glued over your mouth as Abby groans in your cunt. She’s a doll, easing you back down to earth, dragging your underwear and pants up your shaky legs and getting you back home safely.

When you’re showered and your teeth are brushed, she tucks you in, gently kissing your forehead. You beg her to stay with you, but she declines with I know how you get before silently departing.

Your phone is squeezed between your fingers after minutes of trying to sleep, eyeing Ellie’s saved contact until darkness overtakes you.

The pounding on your door is worse than the ones from inside your skull. Fuck Tequila, from the bottom of your heart. Waves of nausea crash over you with every waddle, hobbling your hunched form over to yank the front door open.

A bored Ellie stands in front of you, a large camera and headphones hanging from her neck, seemingly cozy in her sweater and puffer, large duffel bags packed to the brim with clothes dangling from her shoulders. Your cheeks warm instantly. Gray sweats, gray sweats—

“I’m here,” She states plainly.

“… Why?” You croak.

Ellie’s seems just as confused as you, her eyes piercing as if her appearance is obvious.

“To move in.”

“… Why?”

Ellie sighs and snags her phone from her jacket pocket, swiping a few times before nearly blinding you with her screen.

Your jaw nearly hits the floor. When the fuck did you send that?

“So, I’m here,” she slips her device back in her pocket. “Which room am I in?”

“E-Ellie, uh… there's been a mis— “

“Look,” she holds her pale, veiny hands up. “I don’t wanna beat around the bush anymore. I got evicted and I need a place to stay until I secure this job. I’m willing to put down whatever’s needed for rent but I don’t have time to bullshit.”

Ellie proceeds, sarcasm slipping, “Respectfully.”

She pushes past your stunned form, bags accidentally brushing against your bare legs. You can't even move to stop her; You merely watch Ellie shuffle to inspect the living room, the small kitchen, pausing in front of the abstract painting you made for your dad before eventually moving down the hall and into Amaya’s empty space. How the fuck did she get in the building, anyway?

Your deer-like eyes lock with her void, mossy ones as she peers over her shoulder.

“I still have some stuff to pick up. Please leave my key under the mat if you go somewhere.”

Before she enters the empty room next to yours, you hear her gruffly say, “Leave the lease on the table so I can sign it, too.”

Amaya’s — Ellie’s door slams shut seconds later, the soft click of the door locking follows suit.

…

What the fuck just happened. Gall almost surpasses your anger. The audacity...

For the first time, you’re grateful that your shift is in two hours. You need to get the fuck out of here before you cause a scene and catch a case.

tagggiiiesss missed yall ;3 : @starologist @hrtmal @ohlawdthebirds @villainousbear @timmy-27 @inf3ct3dd @aouiaa @shurisbigtoe @emothurman @lonelyfooryouonly @imelliesgf @baumbii @brackishkittie @littletinyladybugs @r1miese @horror-whoree @elsbunny222 @elliesatchel @makemescreamel @lav3nd3rhaze @elliezflower @ellieloml @ellies-princess @saverdelrey @womenofarcane

#ellie williams au #ellie williams #ellie williams smut #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x reader #lesbian #black!oc #black!reader #ellie williams tlou #works 𖧧࣪#click! ☾⋆⁺₊📸✧

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 6 months

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A comprehensive list of all my fics in order from most recent to oldest with summary descriptions for each.

18+

A Ride You'll Never Forget

Summary: Seeing Simon on his motorcycle is something that awakens a new yearning inside you, but when you get your own bike and start riding alongside him, the way he gets you hot and bothered makes it worse. You need him to fuck you on his bike and you hope your plan will make it happen.

A New Form of Pleasure

Summary: Simon is struggling, he can't get off and he doesn't know what to do. As his sergeant you are one of the closest to him and can see something is up. An impromptu visit late one night might just be what he needs... And the way you are suddenly making him bow to your authority and turning his brain off might actually make him come.

Breakfast in Bed

Summary: Only a few more days are left of his short leave and Simon is determined to make every last second count with you. What better way to start the day than buried in between your thighs, helping you wake up by the feeling of his tongue alone and then overstimming you.

Truth or Dare

Summary: During a game of Truth or Dare, your lieutenant is dared into giving you a kiss, but something about the way he has been acting lately may mean this is going to be more than a quick ordeal. And the way you have been feeling towards him won't be helping.

Truth or Dare 2: Dare To Tell the Truth

Summary: After a game of Truth or Dare leaves you and your lieutenant breathless and yearning for more, will you both be able to leave things alone or will one of you not be able to hold out? And what happens when you meet again?

Truth or Dare 3: How Truly Do You Need Me

Summary: After being so rudely interrupted in the middle of you and your lieutenant's tryst, but he made a promise. "This isn't over." You hope that he plans to keep it, but when? Things might have to wait as you are assigned to a mission with him. But when being close proves to much, will both of you be able to hold off on your lust or will you succumb to all that tension?

Truth or Dare 4: Dare to Take It Further

Summary: Something has changed; no, actually everything has changed as you and Simon forget the world a moment finally let that passion run its course. The thought was that once you both had each other it would make things calm, but now you're not so sure. Maybe he is willing to risk more and maybe you are too. Having to sneak around isn't so bad, right? Maybe it could all work out... At least you hope so. But things don't always go according to plan.

A Special Dinner for Two

Summary: Such a good little wife you are to your military husband, ready to welcome him back home after he returns from deployment. This time you've even prepared a meal of all his favorites, but when Simon gets back early than expected and catches you flitting about the kitchen in nothing but his t-shirt, it isn't food that he wants.

I'll Crawl Home To Her

Summary: Simon is away on a mission and you are on his mind. Having to extend his stay, he is going to miss Valentine's day, but coming across a recent trend on TikTok, he may have a way to say just how much you mean to him.

Don't Touch What He's Claimed

Summary: A night out at your favorite local hangout is what he promised you after being away on deployment for so long, but one small incident throws him over the edge into full on possessive episode. Something about the way he is pulling off to the side of the road might mean he can't make it home before reclaiming his prize.

Simon Riley: Girl Dad Extraordinaire

Summary: From a request about Simon being more hands on with his 3 m.o. daughter.

You Are Beautiful

Summary: When a movie night has you questioning your bodies worth, Simon catches you in the shower to show you that your body is perfect just the way that it is.

Simon fingering you under the table during a night out at the bar with the Taskforce

Summary: With the drink flowing and the atmosphere right, Simon cannot seem to keep his hands off of you. There is a need, a need to touch and to play.

Let Me Talk You Through It

Summary: While on deployment far away, Simon takes a little time one night to video call you and talk you through you touching yourself to the sound of his voice.

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day

Summary: After a day where nothing goes right, Simon only wants to come home to the one person he trusts- you.

Cockwarming Simon as you two make out in his office

Summary: From a request for Simon getting so worked up during a cockwarming session that he ends up having to pull out because he is going to come.

Drunk on You

Summary: Simon comes home from deployment, hungry to have his pretty girl all to himself. Things get heated quick and before long you are both drunk off the feeling of the other.

Bringing in the New Year with Simon

Summary: Short one-shot about how it would be spending NYE with Simon at the stroke of midnight.

Simon waking up in the middle of the night horny and unable to get back to sleep. There's only one thing he wants to fix it.

Summary: A little sleepy cuddle-fucking to get Simon back to sleep.

Wanna Make You Mine

Summary: Simon is out at a stag party for Prices upcoming wedding when he comes how early with something important on his mind that he needs to see you to say. Is he just drunk or is it something more?

Simon making it clear that you are the only one he wants

Summary: An incident with a new recruit has you questioning things, but not to worry as Simon is here to show you that you are the only one he could ever want.

Simon is so worked up all day that he rushes home, telling you to meet him at the door because he cannot wait to have you

Summary: He has been needing you all day and as soon as he gets home he wants you waiting ready for him so that he can fix that ache that has been driving him insane.

I'll Take You Filthy

Summary: Being the leader of your platoon and fucking you at the same time isn't something Simon wants paraded around, for both of your benefit as trouble could come from such a relationship. But keeping it a secret has become a problem as you've been out on a mission for a couple months with no physical contact to be had. The moment you return Simon has to have you...even though you are both filthy as fuck.

His Heart, His Light, His World- Dad!Simon

Summary: The birth of his first child changes everything for the rough around the edges military man. A small glimpse into his life now as a father.

A Bit of Fun At the World's End

Summary: Being on the run from the undead doesn't leave much time for more intimate things, but once things start to settle a little an ache begins to form that you haven't felt in a long time. What will you do when the only other person you are with is your former lover turned zombie.

Joining the 141 had one hard rule: no relationships of any kind between members, but that is something proving to be too much the closer you and Simon get

Summary: Simon cannot help but break the rules when it comes to you.

Body worship with Simon

Summary: Simon taking the time to make sure you feel like the goddess he thinks you are.

Simon desperately eating you out after a rough day

Summary: It has been a terrible, no good, rotten ass day. There is only one cure for it and that is for that hulking military man to find his way between your legs to eat you out until he can't breathe.

Getting so worked up during a celebration for Price's birthday that Simon has to take you in the bathroom of the bar

Summary: You just couldn't wait until you both got back, could you? No, not when you and Simon are screwing like bunnies every chance you get. So what's Simon to do? That's easy, take you in the bathroom and fix the problem of course.

Think of Me When You Cum Later (Part 1)

Summary: Simon is missing you like crazy while being away on a mission, but he has a clever plan to make sure you miss him too. So, perhaps a little video of him stroking himself will do the trick.

Something to Make it Worse (Part 2)

Summary: You get Simon's video and it leaves you wanting him something bad. Well, two can play at this game, so why not send him back a video of your own?

Something to Break the Tension (Part 3)

Summary: All the buildup, all the teasing, finally leads to this: Simon is back and ready to act on all those filthy things you two had been teasing each other with. Will you make it home before you both explode? Or will the car have to do to break the tension?

Late Night Texts (Part 1)

Summary: Nothing good ever comes from a text after dark... or does it? Guess it depends on who it is and what they need. If it's a certain Lieutenant, then it's bound to be something worth your while.

Mid-day Texts (Part 2)

Summary: Simon is getting more and more obsessed with his little friend who constantly finds herself in his bed. But when you are off on a quick mission for a few weeks, Simon begins to grow restless and this no strings attached messing around finds itself being turned on its head. What happens when you get a text from him the day you get back, in the middle of the day?

Life Changing Texts (Part 3)

Summary: After your explosive homecoming where everything seemed to fall right into place, Simon begins to get cold feet about his feelings and what they could mean for the both of you. All seems bleak until a text about someone harassing you while you're on a night out makes him come to your aid and solidifies a decision he has already made.

Spending the night at Simon's for the first time and him waking up to you in nothing but his oversized shirt

Summary: From a request about Simon seeing reader in his shirt for the first time.

Simon and you screwing in the shower

Summary: What's better than sex with Simon? Add some steam, some hot water, and some solitude and you have the recipe for a very good time.

Having Simon pick out lingerie for you

Summary: Coming up with the idea to take Simon out so that he can pick out a couple pieces of lingerie he wants to see you in, his choices really surprise you.

Simon has a favorite item of clothing you wear and you wear it since he's having a bad day

Summary: Simon has one favorite piece of clothing you wear and of course when he's having a rough day, you just have to wear it for him.

Simon fucking you brainless and then rubbing your head as you pass out beside him

Summary: Simon is not shy when it comes to sex, it's the more intimate things that he has a problem with. But after a round of rigorous screwing, he wants to show you a bit of extra care.

Desperate Times Call for Filthy Fantasies (Part 1)

Summary: As a new recruit, you should not have the gall to talk back to your superior officer like you do. He's tried it all, trying to work the insubordination out of you, but to no avail. Your antics have really gotten under his skin lately, but is it really because you won't listen and follow orders...or is there something more to it that he can't admit? The way his cock throbs might indicate the latter and what he thinks about as he touches himself might just speak to that as well.

The Brat and Her Beast (Part 2)

Summary: After a certain Lieutenant allowed his fantasies to run wild, there was only one thing left to do: make them a reality. Opportunity presents itself one day as your brattiness has reached new highs and he follows you into the communal bathroom and locks the door behind you both. You're all alone and now what? Seems you've bitten off more than you can chew, but you both know now that was your plan all along.

Silence on the Line

Summary: You and Ghost have always gotten through missions by keeping in constant radio contact when possible. On one fateful mission, he sends out the call but there is no reply. Only silence. As time goes on his greatest fear is realized and all that he knew is now turned on it's head. What happens when reality hits all at once? And what does it do to the once stoic man who is no stranger to death?

The Lieutenant's Whore (Part 1)

Summary: When a one time sexual encounter leaves you wanting more, but the rules were set the moment he entered you and now he does his best to avoid you, what is a girl to do to get what she wants? That's right, make him jealous. And if it works a little too well maybe he will give you the night of your life. Good thing you have a flirty Scotsman to mess with, perhaps if you can't get your way, you can still have fun. Only time and a bit of effort on your part will tell what goes down.

What's Mine You'll Never Have (Part 2)

Summary: Hearing what he shouldn't have, Johnny is rightfully angry and what does he let that anger lead to? A bad attitude that leads to even worse decisions. As you confront him about this sudden change in demeanor, things start to heat up. What happens when Simon finds out? Actions have consequences and Johnny is about to learn that you will only ever belong to the man behind the mask.

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valeskafics · 6 months

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"Inevitable" - Modern Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Adopted Niece!Reader (The Purge AU)

Summary: This year, Aemond has two goals in mind for the Purge. First, he wants to get revenge on your little brother, Luke, for taking his eye all those years ago. And second? He wants to claim you, once and for all.

TW: DUBCON BORDERING ON NONCON, profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, afab reader, chasing (it's not primal PLAY bc he isn't playing lol), fake incest as reader is adopted, physical violence, MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH(S), blood, knife kink, fingering, tiddy succin, choking, hair pulling, oral f receiving, bondage, daddy kink, p in v sex, breeding kink

Word Count: 4,315 words

Rating: 18+, MDNI

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

The day Daemon and Rhaenyra Targaryen adopted you was the day your life changed forever. From living in a group home in Flea Bottom, you were brought to one of the most luxurious mansions on Visenya’s Hill. You had a mom and a dad, something you’d never even dared to dream about. You were around six years old at the time, and Daemon and Rhaenyra had only recently gotten married. Rhaenyra had three children from a previous marriage, all boys, and longed for a daughter, which was where you came in.

You bonded immediately with your sweet brothers. Jace was around your age, Luke a few years younger, and then of course baby Joffrey. For the first time in your life, you felt like you belonged. You loved your family with all your heart. Daemon spoiled you, treating you like his little princess. His two daughters remained with his ex-wife, but your adopted sisters always adored spending time with you whenever they were able.

Your mom’s younger half-siblings were more… Complicated.

Aegon? Simple enough. He was lazy and cared more about sneaking out to drink with his friends than any of you younger kids, though he did enjoy the way your brothers hero worshiped him. He hated babysitting, but he seemed to be okay with you since you caused him very little trouble. Helaena was sweet but always off in her own little world. Daeron was off at boarding school, though you often wondered why he was the only one who was sent away from home.

And then there was Aemond. The middle Targaryen brother.

He was your age, with the most intense gaze you had ever seen in another human being. Aemond tended to keep to himself. He disliked your brothers intensely, but that dislike never seemed to extend to you. He always had an air of polite indifference when it came to you. Sometimes, while the others played, you would sit with Aemond and read in silence. You wouldn’t go so far as to call your young uncle your friend, but you think you were the closest thing he had to one.

Everything changed the night of the fight.

Your father’s ex-wife had passed away, and the family in its entirety had flown to Driftmark for the funeral. Things were tense that day, especially between your mom and her stepmother. Gods, you were adopted into a complicated family.

The funeral just so happened to coincide with the night of the annual Purge, the night where all crime is made legal for twelve hours. Looting, murder, all of it, with a few notable exceptions as far as the government was concerned.

That evening, all of the younger ones ended up sneaking out, roughhousing as kids do. One thing led to another, heated words were exchanged, and the fighting grew more serious, specifically between Aemond and your brothers. You’re still not sure where Jace and Luke found a switchblade. You remember Aemond pummeling Jace into the ground, the way you threw yourself over his body in an attempt to get Aemond to stop. Aemond froze at that moment, stopping his vicious onslaught, not wanting to hurt you.

And that’s when Luke went at him.

You know your little brother. You know he would never intentionally blind someone. But that is precisely what happened. Aemond lost his sight in his left eye, a long scar running from his forehead down his cheek. When you went to see him at the hospital, he looked at you with such venom in his gaze that you felt your blood run cold.

Since it was the night of the Purge, your grandmother’s case to sue your mother and Luke for treatment went up in flames.

Your mom and dad made a rule after that day. You, the boys, Baela, and Rhaena were not to speak to Aegon or Aemond anymore, Helaena and Daeron being thrown in as collateral damage.

You still attended the same prestigious private school together. But they stuck to their crowd and you stuck to yours. You and Jace ended up becoming close with Cregan Stark when middle school came around. And by the time you were a senior? He was your boyfriend. It was hard not to notice the disdainful glares Aemond would toss the two of you as you walked down the school hallways hand in hand, the way he would purposely shove Cregan when passing by you two, ramming him with his shoulder. But, you and Cregan simply did your best to ignore it.

It’s been ten years since that night on Driftmark, to the day. Once again, it’s the night of the Purge, and you sit at the table with your family, listlessly twirling your pasta around your fork.

“I can’t wait to go Purge with Creg,” Jace rambles excitedly, “We’re not gonna do anything too crazy, but still.”

“Darling,” Rhaenyra asks, resting a hand on Daemon’s arm, “Are you sure you’re alright staying home with the kids?”

Before he can answer, you speak up, “I’m nineteen, Mom. Not a kid. A fully grown adult who thinks the Purge is fucking stupid.”

“Language,” Daemon chides you good-naturedly, a smile playing on his lips, “You know the Purge has actually brought the crime rate down substantially during the rest of the year.”

“I’m going to go fuck up that bitch Cerelle’s house,” Baela declares, “Rhaena’s coming with me.”

“I am?” she questions, dumbfounded, the news seemingly novel to her.

You look at your sisters, biting back a laugh, “So it’s just me, Luke, and Dad? You’re taking Joff to the children’s safe house and then Purging, right, Mom?”

She nods, “Yes, sweetheart. And remember, we have that new security system, so the three of you will be completely safe.”

“Yeah, until some Purger manages to break in,” Luke mutters, stabbing at his food, “By the way, it’s total fucking bullshit that I can’t-”

“Language,” Daemon says, pointing a finger at him.

“Fuck you, old man!”

You turn to Jace, ignoring your little brother and dad fighting, concern in your voice as you speak, “You and Cregan are going to be careful, right?”

Jace gives you a little grin before ruffling your hair, “‘Course we are, sis. I’ll bring your precious boytoy back to you in one piece. Scout’s honor.”

“Not just Creg. You two,” you say, squeezing your brother’s hand, “I just… I have a weird feeling. Be careful?”

“Hey, bub, we’re gonna be fine,” Jace’s voice is gentle and reassuring, “I promise. Okay? Just relax. Watch a movie with Dad and Luke or something. The Purge’ll be over before you know it.”

You nod, taking a deep breath and giving him a quick smile, “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. Have fun.”

You watch as most of your family disperses, Daemon putting the house on lockdown the moment the sirens blare, signaling that the Purge is about to begin. You bite your nails, watching Jace walk away, a sinking feeling in your chest. You see him approach Cregan’s car, your boyfriend poking his head out and waving to you before they don their masks and drive off into the night.

The night starts out with little event. You play a rousing game of Monopoly with Luke and your dad, blatantly stealing from the bank whenever they aren’t looking and building enough houses to run them bankrupt in very little time. When the three of you are about to settle in for a movie, you hear the doorbell ring. You exchange a confused look with Luke, following after Daemon as he goes to the intercom and security camera. You grab a softball bat that Joffrey left lying around, prompting Luke to give you an incredulous look.

“The fuck are you doing?” he hisses, “These people have actual weapons, dummy!”

“I’ll be better off than you,” you retort, “At least I’ll get in a decent swing before they shoot me!”

Daemon shushes the pair of you before checking the security camera. You see a masked figure standing there, staring into the camera, head tilted to the side and a knife in his hand. You feel Luke grab your hand, and you let him. You squeeze softly to reassure him that you’re here and you’re there to protect him.

You watch with bated breath as the figure removes their mask to reveal none other than Aemond. You let out a quiet gasp, covering your mouth, dropping the bat. You turn to Luke, seeing that your brother has gone deathly pale. You wrap your arm around him, pulling him close, feeling the younger boy shivering with fear. You know that, realistically, Aemond can’t see you through the steel door, but the way he’s staring into the camera unnerves you.

“Aemond,” Daemon says over the intercom, “Shouldn’t you be out Purging?”

“I’ve been out, Uncle,” Aemond says in a cool, measured tone, one that makes the hairs on your neck stand on end, “But my real Purge is just getting started.”

“Out looting with your brothers then?” Daemon asks, gesturing for you and Luke to head to the safe room, “Sounds like fun.”

You and Luke remain in the room, ignoring Daemon’s instructions, wanting to see what’s going on. Why in the Seven fucking Hells is Aemond here?

“Something like that, Uncle,” he hums, “Now, would you be so kind as to let me in? I have business with Luke and your daughter.”

“They’re both out Purging, I’m afraid,” Daemon replies, shooting the two of you a look, annoyed that you haven’t obeyed his command.

“No, you see, I know my sweet little niece,” he says, twirling his knife between his fingers, still staring into the camera, his gaze unrelenting, “She’s quite vocal in school about her distaste for this little annual event. And Luke is too young to Purge. No, I’m sure they’re both locked away in the safety of this mansion.”

“Well, they aren’t home,” Daemon insists, “Perhaps Luke went with the twins. I’m sure my daughter is over at that boyfriend of her’s house. They’re always together.”

“That is quite interesting of you to mention, Uncle,” Aemond says, jaw ticking at the mention of your boyfriend, “I just had a little run-in with said boyfriend.”

You freeze in place, blood running cold. You shoot Cregan a quick text, but there’s no response. He always replies within a few seconds. It’s one of the things you’ve always loved about him. You try calling him, frowning when it goes straight to voicemail. You grit your teeth and push past your father, speaking into the intercom.

“What the fuck did you do to Cregan?”

A wicked smile curls at the corner of Aemond’s lips as he replies, his voice mockingly concerned, “Aw, is he not answering his phone, love?”

“What the fuck did you do to him, Aemond?” you demand, eyes flashing with rage at the smug expression on his face.

“Well, sweet girl, the last time I saw him, he was looking a bit worse for the wear,” he pauses, “Perhaps I could tell you more if you let me in. Or if you come out and speak to me.”

Daemon’s voice is low, full of fury as replies in your stead, “You really think I’m just going to hand my daughter over to you?”

Aemond chuckles darkly, placing his mask back on his face, “What’s the matter, Uncle? Does it scare you, what I have planned for your little girl?”

He bangs on the door, laughing to himself as he stabs at the security camera, making it go gray. You watch as Daemon presses the panic button, the shutters rolling down, the whole house going on lockdown. As you race toward the stairs with Luke, Daemon going to grab his shotgun, you catch a glimpse of Aemond through one of the windows just as it closes, wearing his mask, staring directly at you.

You don’t know how long you and Luke sit in the dark, locked in the safe room. You left your phone outside and so there’s no way to tell the time. You sit, hand in hand with Luke, the two of you doing your absolute best to remain silent. You hear the sound of a scuffle, a scream, and then absolute silence. You look at each other, wondering what the actual fuck happened.

That’s when the door to the safe room swings open and you see him standing there. Aemond.

Aemond has waited for this moment for years now. He stares at you, sitting there, huddled with your little brother, looking absolutely terrified. You look so beautiful like this, he thinks to himself, so perfect and ripe for the taking. He watches as you turn to Luke, taking a quick breath.

“Luke,” you whisper, “When I say run, you run. Don’t fucking wait for me. Don’t look back.”

Luke looks at you, eyes wide with horror, “What? I can’t leave you-”

You press a kiss to his forehead before lunging at Aemond, tackling him to the ground, “Run!”

Aemond laughs as you tackle him, his mask falling off. He quickly flips the two of you over so that he pins you to the ground. Luke looks at the two of you, hesitating for a moment, before he remembers your instructions and breaks into a sprint.

“Go, Luke! Get to the guest house!” you scream as you struggle under Aemond, his knife pressed to your neck.

Aemond chuckles, leaning in to press his nose to your hair, inhaling your scent, loving the way you feel as you squirm against him, “You’re mine now, sweetheart. No one’s going to save you now.”

“Yeah, well, you won’t get Luke,” you glare up at him defiantly, “That’s fucking consolation enough for me,” you narrow your eyes, “Isn’t it pathetic that you spent your Purge stalking your niece and nephew? I mean, I bet Aegon and Daeron were doing way more interesting stuff. Look at you.”

He just grins at you as you insult him, the lust inside him burning hotter than ever, your sharp tongue sending a thrill of excitement through him, “Oh, sweet girl, I don’t give a damn what they were doing. I have you all to myself, just like I wanted.”

“Are you going to kill me, Uncle?” you ask, hissing the last word with all the vitriol you can gather.

He shakes his head, stroking your cheek with his blade, moving some hair off of your face, “No, little niece. There are much more satisfying things I have planned for tonight than killing you.”

You spit in his face, fire in your eyes as you continue trying to stare him down, refusing to let him see your fear. And it just makes him even hungrier for you. He laughs quietly, wiping his face before looking down at you.

His voice is impossibly soft and low as he whispers, “Naughty girl. That just made me want you more.”

You try to squirm out from under him, thrashing like a wild animal, “Get the fuck off of me! Dad!”

You scream for help and Aemond has the audacity to laugh, “Oh, sweet girl. No one is coming to save you. Are you going to behave yourself now? Or will I have to punish you?”

Your eyes go wide with shock, voice trembling ever so slightly as you ask, “What the fuck did you do to my dad?”

“Your father is no longer relevant to this conversation,” he says, tracing your lips with the tip of his knife, the sensation startling you.

You shake your head, “You… No…”

“Oh yes, love,” he whispers in your ear, “You’re mine now. And I’m going to enjoy taking what belongs to me.”

You feel his lips move to your neck, kissing you as if he’s waited for this all his life, biting down on your soft skin hard enough to leave a mark. That’s when you take advantage of his momentary distraction and knee him hard in the crotch. Aemond lets out a groan of pain, moving off of you, giving you the time you need to scramble to your feet and race out of the room, down the stairs.

To your living room.

Where your father’s body lies in a pool of blood. You cover your mouth in horror, eyes watering.

“Daddy?” you whisper.

You feel Aemond’s hand wrap around the nape of your neck, his voice in your ear, “You don’t need to call him that anymore. He’s not going to save you. I’m your Daddy now.”

“You’re fucking insane,” you scream, trying to run, twisting away from him, but he grabs you by the throat, shoving you up against the wall behind you, his body pressed against yours.

“Maybe so, darling,” he murmurs, “But what does that say about you being attracted to me?”

“I’m not fucking attracted to you,” you manage to eke out, feeling his fingers squeezing your neck ever so slightly, “Fucking psycho!”

Aemond grins, clicking his tongue as if he’s scolding an unruly child, moving his fingers to trace your mouth, pressing down on your plush lower lip, “Oh, I think you are. You just refuse to admit it.”

You slap him hard across the face, your hand smarting ever so slightly from the impact, feeling quite pleased with yourself at how red his cheek is, the way his head reels ever so slightly. But then, he just laughs, throwing his head back.

“You see? You’re perfect for me, little one,” he says, moving his hand into your hair, tugging on it harshly, “My little spitfire.”

“My mom and Jace will be back any time now,” you bluff, “And they’ll fucking kill you!”

He snickers, as if you’ve just said the most amusing thing in the world, “Do you really think they stand a chance against me, love? Anyway, Jace was quite… Tied up the last time I saw him. He and your little boyfriend didn’t put up much of a fight when I finished them off.”

You tremble with horror, “No! No, Not Jace!”

Aemond tugs on your hair once again, pressing himself up against you so you can feel just how turned on he is, rolling his hips against yours, “You want this. Just admit it.”

You claw at his hand desperately, “You killed my dad, my brother, and my boyfriend! Of course I don’t want it!”

Your eyes go wide with surprise as he grabs your hand, dragging your nails across his cheek, his lashes fluttering ever so slightly at the feeling, “I did what I had to. You’re mine. You were always meant to be mine.”

Aemond grabs you by the arm, dragging you up to your bedroom, ignoring your screams of protest, slamming the door shut behind the two of you. He shoves you onto your bed, crawling over you, a lustful fire in his gaze.

He pins you down, brushing his nose against yours, “I’ve waited for this for years. Don’t you dare try to deny me.” Aemond moves one of his hands along your waist, up to your breasts, squeezing one and letting out a low moan of delight, “So soft. Wonder if the rest of you feels like that too.”

You wince as he slices the fabric of your tank top open, practically tearing it off of you and using it to tie your wrists above your head. You glare up at him angrily, shivering as he traces the knife between the valley of your breasts before cutting open your bra, revealing your bare chest to his eyes. Aemond licks his lips, dragging the tip of the knife along one of your nipples, his good eye twinkling with delight as it hardens at the action. You turn your face away from Aemond, ashamed at the way your body is betraying you, but he grabs you by the jaw, squeezing your cheeks together, his forehead pressed to yours.

“Keep those eyes on me, sweet girl.”

You watch, teeth sinking into your lower lip so that you don’t make a sound as he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, rolling it between his lips as he palms at your other tit, the calluses on his hand making you press your thighs together, desperate for friction. You hate him. You hate this. And yet, everywhere he touches, you feel like your body is on fire. You keep eye contact with him as he continues mouthing at your breast, his fingers tweaking your other nipple, pinching it, loving the little whimper you let out in spite of yourself.

“Is this getting you wet, sweetheart?” he murmurs, kissing your neck before brushing his lips against yours, the knife now at the waistband of your sweatpants, “Are those cute little panties you’re wearing soaked from what I’m doing?”

“No,” you whisper weakly as he slides your sweats down your legs, admiring the skin that is now bared to him.

You scrunch your eyes shut in shame as he presses one of his fingers against you and lets out a nasty little laugh, “Liar.”

You yelp as he lands a slap against your pussy over the fabric of your underwear before returning to teasing you, his fingers rubbing at you over your panties, then he slaps you again. He moves his mouth to the apex between your thighs, kissing you over your underwear, nuzzling his face against you. You let out a soft moan, thrashing against your restraints, trying to press your knees together to keep him away from you, though every cell in your body screams at you to let him touch you. Aemond pushes your knees apart, slicing your panties off with two quick movements of his knife, letting out a groan at the sight of your bare cunt. You’ve never felt this vulnerable in your entire life, but you’re given little time to think about it when you feel him lick a stripe along your pussy.

“Aemond,” you cry out pathetically, “Don’t…”

“Don’t what?” Aemond taunts, “Don’t taste what belongs to me? Sweetheart, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

You cry out as he buries his tongue inside your pussy, making the most lewd, obnoxious slurping noises as he tastes you, he holds his arms in a way that prevents you from closing your legs, his thumb rubbing against your clit as he fucks you with his tongue. You feel tears stream down your face at the intensity of the pleasure he’s giving you. He brings you closer and closer to the edge, the coil in your stomach winding tighter and tighter with every movement of his tongue in and out of you. He moves his lips to wrap them around your clit, electing to fuck you with his fingers, reaching so much deeper than your own ever could. You mewl pathetically as he rubs against your sweet spot, bringing you closer and closer to the edge, your cunt squeezing around his fingers, desperate for his touch.

“Aemond, please…”

“Not Aemond, sweetheart,” he murmurs, breath tickling your skin, “Tell Daddy what you need.”

“Please let me come, Daddy,” you say, voice cracking as you hold back a sob.

And he does let you come. Your orgasm hits you so intensely that you think you black out for a moment. And when your eyes open? He’s smirking down at you.

“Who knew you were a squirter, pretty girl?” he coos, lips coated with evidence of your arousal, the wet patch on your bed between your legs making you cringe, “Such a good girl for your Daddy.”

You watch as he undresses quickly, tossing his hoodie and jeans to the side of the room, stalking toward you, already rock hard, the tip of his cock leaking precum. He settles between your legs, smacking your clit with his cockhead, chuckling at the way you shiver. He does it again before running himself along your cunt, pushing in slightly before pulling out, teasing you. You look up at him, lips parted, eyes hazy, desperate for him to just fuck you already.

“That’s my girl,” Aemond chuckles as he sheathes himself inside you to the hilt, swallowing the loud moan you let out by pressing his lips to yours in a fiery kiss.

You find yourself kissing back, even though you know it’s wrong. Even though you know he’s a horrible person. You don’t care. Not when he’s making you feel like this. You’ve never been fucked like this, not even by Cregan. Aemond is like an unhinged beast, rutting against you with a nearly inhuman speed, his balls slapping against your ass as he whispers the filthiest things in your ear about what a pretty cunt you have, how he’s splitting you open, how he’s going to fuck you so hard that you feel his cock inside you for days.

“Going to cum inside you, pretty girl,” he says, nipping at your lower lip, grabbing his forgotten knife and holding it to your throat, loving the way you shiver against it, “Going to breed you. Going to take you home with me, make you my pretty little wife. My little plaything. Your only purpose will be me. I’ll be the only thing you’ll ever need. Going to fuck a baby into you, keep you with me forever. Say you want it.” You’re too overwhelmed by the feeling of the blade against your throat, coupled with the feeling of his cock hitting that rough patch deep inside of you with every animalistic thrust. He tosses the knife aside and squeezes your throat, “Fucking say it, baby.”

“Yes, Daddy, I want it,” you babble almost incoherently, “Wanna be your wife, want you to breed me, fuck me, please…”

And Aemond knows that he has you.

You were always meant to be his, and now, the inevitable has finally happened.

And he will never let you go.

You belong to him now.

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sugarlywhispers · 1 year

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i.hajime + gf makes him do something cute

☆— fem reader, crack, fluff

☆— a/n; this is a repost. i think i posted last time at the same time with the nishinoya drabble, can't remember if it was a request though.😊

“I bet you my favorite lunch that you can’t make Iwa-chan do something cute,” Oikawa said daringly, sitting next to you on the bench you were observing your boyfriend and his volleyball team train.

You looked at him, amused by his childish behaviour, “Why would I want your favorite lunch?”

“Y/N, come one, don’t be such a boring grown up like Iwa-chan…” He whined, but then he smiled devilishly, “Or is it that you know you're gonna lose, so you don’t want to try? Ah, I can’t blame you for that. If I knew I was going to lose, I wouldn’t accept any dare either. Smart girl,” he sat there, with his head held high as if he had won the best prize ever.

Ugh, you hated him.

You wouldn’t normally follow him or any idea he had, simply because you knew it made Hajime explode with annoyance–especially if Oikawa was responsible. But you felt kind of adventurous that day, so why not give it a try?

“Fine, diva, I accept your bet,” you said sitting two spots away from him, where you looked directly at where your boyfriend, Iwaizumi Hajime, was standing waiting for a ball.

You ignored the whining and protesting Oikawa did when you called him ‘diva’, smiling proud of yourself internally for upsetting him.

Oikawa crossed his arms over his chest offended and watched as you extended your arm, your thumb and index finger connected, making an ‘o’ shape. He frowned, confused at what you were doing. Then you smiled cutely and whistled in Iwa-chan’s direction.

He saw how his former teammate turned to his girlfriend–obviously having recognized her style of whistling, and rolled his eyes at her action, but instantly jogged to where she was and surprised every single person in that gym who paid attention to the couple.

You smiled when your boyfriend approached you, a light blush that most would blame it on the heavy training he was doing, but you knew your boyfriend; he was kind of embarrassed by what he was about to do. Yet he didn’t care what people could say; you were his priority and he always did everything for you–mostly in private, but he had said that he didn’t mind doing cute things in public either. Not with you.

From the little ‘o’ shape your fingers were making, you watched with a smile your boyfriend come closer to you, until he kneeled in front of you and you laughed when his nose booped through the circle, before his lips did. You bent closer and pecked his lips cutely. A lot of “aww”s were heard around, but Hajime just smiled proud of himself while he jogged back to his previous position to keep training.

Your head turned to Oikawa, who had his eyes opened wide and jaw dropped to the floor. You regretted not having a camera rolling to capture that image.

“Are you sure you follow your own advice of not making bets you’re going to lose, Tooru-senpai?” He grumbled at you because he knew you were just mocking him, before jogging in Hajime's direction and complaining how he wasn’t that cute with him.

You smiled amused; sometimes, you wondered if you had a relationship with two guys, and not just one, because Oikawa was definitely always there, in the middle of you and Iwaizumi. And neither Iwaizumi nor you actually cared that much to actually feel annoyed by that fact.

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elliesbarbie · 7 months

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hands to herself e.williams

title: hands to herself wc: 3.8k

characters: fwb!ellie williams x fem!reader

warnings: drinking, drug-use (weed), ellie being clingy as hell, public sex, cockblocking.., sub!ellie and dom!reader for like a second if u squint, dom!ellie and sub!reader, pet names (baby, angel, slut) edging, face-sitting, tribbing

summary: ellie thinks you look a little too good in that bikini you chose to wear for the annual best friend vacay and can’t keep her hands off you

a/n: this is way longer than i intended it to be…. the smut is there….. i promise….. proofread SLIGHTLY will probably make changes as time goes on. lmk if i missed anything!

you were the last one to get to the beach house. you had some complications with your car leading to you arriving a whole 3 hours late.

you were pissed to say the least.

exam season had just ended and you were so ready for your only worry to be about what swimsuit you were going to wear for the next few hours, definitely not finding out what the number for roadside assistance was.

with a long sigh you pull into the driveway, as you turn off your car you let your head fall onto the steering wheel. there’s only a brief moment of silence before you hear an excited yell coming from in front of you. you look up to find, dina, one of your best friends since high school, peaking her body through the front door and urging you to come in.

“y/n!! finally, you’re here! come in!!” dina yells and quickly turns her head over her shoulder, “jesse come help y/n with her things!” you smile, already feeling better, this is exactly what you needed after what felt like days of driving.

you turn off your headlights and get out of your car, “what’s up, y/n?” you see jesse smirk at you and slide behind dina to help you with your things. “definitely not my mood” you grumble, hardly holding back your smile as he gives you a side hug.

“hey, none of that shit, you’re here now, be happy” he draws a smile on his face with his two pointer fingers and starts on your luggage. you laugh to yourself and start to stretch your arms, you had your body in the same position for like 4 hours, you felt like a rusted slinky.

“i can get my stuff ya know” you say, coming out of your much-needed stretch, “dina will drown me in the pool if she sees you with any of this, so i got it” jesse’s words sound strained as he begins to walk into the house with two of your bags on each of his arms and you give a quick thank you.

“hey,” ellie says, her voice coming from behind you, “thought you’d need this” you quickly turn around to see her with her arm extended, holding a blunt out to you, well, rather what was left of it.

“ellie” you feel even more annoyed, “you left me like one hit” you felt yourself grow more upset until you can’t help but laugh as you take the blunt from her hand and take a hit.

“it’s the thought that counts, no?” she laughs and crosses her arms. as you exhale you give yourself a chance to look at ellie and you notice she’s already wearing her swimsuit, a black sports bra and black to green gradient swim trunks, you can see her toned stomach and muscular arms…

this is exactly the vacation you needed.

“my eyes are up here, perv” ellie smirks and steps closer to you. she wraps her right arm around your waist and puts her mouth to your ear, “dina’s watching us, let’s not give ourselves away” she lets go and heads toward the front door “c'mon” ellie flicks her head toward the door and you follow with a smile.

she’s too smooth for her own good you think to yourself as you enter the huge beach house that you and your friends rent every year.

you and ellie had history. ever since you two were in middle school, ellie would always get jealous of the other friends you had and you found yourself jealous of the girls ellie dated. then in high school is when you started questioning your feelings for her.

during a sleepover, you guys had gotten to the point of having that deep conversation at 2 AM and you ended up admitting that you had never done anything with anyone. to this, ellie laughed, not at you but at the fact that she thought you were lying straight to her face. cause in what world would no one have made a move on you yet? she knew the only reason she hadn’t was because she never wanted to ruin the friendship you guys had but when you finally were honest with each other, your friendship developed into something more.

to this day you don’t remember exactly how it got brought up but eventually, that conversation sparked the question, “should we be friends with benefits?” and from that night on you two had a countless number of late-night meetups, quickies, and “bathroom breaks”. at first, it started out as “ellie is teaching me things so i don’t have to be embarrassed for my first time” into “ellie, i'm horny. let's fuck”.

as soon as you walked through the door, dina is greeting you with a big hug, “we’re gonna have the best time” she smirks and walks over to the kitchens island, “jesse’s putting your bags away in the room now and when he gets back the party begins so, y/n, i suggest you get ready” you can hear the excitement in her voice as she goes to make everyone drinks.

you laugh and make your way upstairs, catching a glance at ellie on the couch before opening the door to your room.

“you’re a fast worker, jesse, thank you” you say as jesse puts your last bag down and winks at you, “you know it! now don’t take too long getting ready, we’ve already been waiting forever” jesse yells as he walks out of your room and you don’t resist the urge to roll your eyes.

you open your bag to find the swimsuit ellie bought you for your birthday

perfect you think

you slip on the polyester bikini, take your hair down from your loose ponytail and you’re already out of your room. it fits you perfectly, it’s a pink string bikini that barely covers anything. just ellie’s type.

as you stride down the stairs you can feel ellie’s eyes on you. a little teasing wouldn’t hurt, would it? you think to yourself as you start to sway your hips. you can see her tense, this is the first time you're wearing this swimsuit since she got it for you.

you feel a sense of pride knowing the kind of effect you have on her.

"what's on the menu tonight, barista?" you lean over the marble-covered island making sure to accentuate your ass. dina turns around with the freshly made drinks in her hands, "pink gin spritz and strawberry mojitos" she carefully walks over to the sliding glass door, "gonna put these outside, meet us out there!" you see the door seamlessly open by itself until jesse appears, taking some of the drinks from dina to help her set on the outdoor bar.

before you can even comprehend the sound of rustling on the couch behind you, you feel a hand on your lower back. "knew you'd look fucking perfect in this" ellie breathes onto your neck, barely above a whisper. with her presence comes the smell of teakwood and weed.

her hand travels further down and rests on the small of your back right before your ass. "you're drivin' me crazy, babe" your breath hitches as her pointer finger hooks under one of the strings holding your bottoms on. "would be so easy to just," you can feel her finger start to work at the knot when you quickly shoo her hand away.

"dina and jesse are right outside, waiting for us mind you" when you turn around, ellie's face is inches away from yours. god, if it weren't for the pair outside you would be in her pants within seconds. her emerald eyes stare into yours with such lust your knees about give out.

“ellie” your voice drags. ellie moves her hands slowly from your hips to your waist. humming in response. her hands move higher and higher as they start to graze the bottom of your breasts, moving her thumbs back and forth, barely touching the tips of your areolas.

“so pretty” ellie hums, flicking her eyes between your tits and your eyes, practically giving you puppy dog eyes. you groan and clasp your hands around hers, pulling them away and to her side, “you said it yourself, let’s not give ourselves away” you start towards the sliding glass door and glance behind you, “keep it in your pants, williams”

she scoffs and follows you out.

the luminescent lights flood your vision as you step outside, there’s a cool breeze along with loud music, it’s honestly a beautiful sight. there’s lights hanging over the pool, connected to the patio, and even colorful lights in the pool. you spot jesse on one of the lounge chairs with a beer in hand and want a drink of your own.

walking over to the bar, you decide on a strawberry mojito and see ellie pop-up on the other side of the bar. “what are you drinking tonight?” you take a sip of your cocktail, humming in delight. “you” she says nonchalantly and you can’t help but laugh, “el, pick a drink, im getting in the pool” as you turn to walk over to the pool you can see ellie throw her head back, you’re loving this.

the cool water feels so good as you slowly step into the shallow end. you put your glass on the ledge and dip your shoulders under, leaving your head out of the water. you stand up and walk over to your drink, taking a sip before leaning your head on the ledge, watching ellie get into the pool. as her stomach reaches the cool water she hisses and her stomach tenses, at this rate you’re just about as horny as her. you break out of your daze when she fully submerges herself under water.

it feels like the music fades out when she comes up, her eyes lock with yours, she’s just so beautiful, especially in this lighting. her hair slicked back, freckles showing, flushed face, and her lips curling into a smile. she was just so gorgeous. you almost forgot your close friends were there when she walked towards you and spun you around, wrapping her arms around your waist and settling her head on your shoulder.

you wanted to kiss her so bad right now. you felt yourself grow needier and tried to push down the feeling of your clit pulsing, you needed some kind of friction. silently begging ellie to catch on. and it was like the gods heard your thoughts.

ellie’s knee pushed your legs apart, resting in-between the both of them. you tense, there’s a the tiniest bit of friction and it feels oh so good, but it’s not enough it just makes you more and more needy. you’re losing your train of thought when dina speaks up, “ellie sure is clingy tonight” she giggles as she gets in the pool with a huge flamingo floaty. “you know how she is when she gets high, dina” you’re trying to avoid any questions arising between the group, but ellie just makes things harder.

you can feel her arms loosen around your waist, only for them to find your hips. she buries her face in your neck and above above a whisper she asks you, “can i move them?” she gives your hips a tight squeeze to make sure you understood what she meant. you’re surprised with how fast you respond, turning your head to the side to avoid dina, “please” your hand grasps onto ellie’s and you can feel her smirk on your skin.

she starts out slowly, as to not being much attention to you guys. jesse had gotten in the water and was actively trying to flip dina off her float so it wasn’t hard to go unnoticed.

her hands grip to your side like her life depends on it, the thin layer of your bikini makes every movement feel more enhanced. your clit moved back and forth between the fabric of her swim trunks and onto her leg, the difference of texture making you ache.

“jesse stop!” dina yells and you both practically crack your necks looking over to them. dina was over jesses shoulder, hitting him on his back. “stop fussing! we’re at the beach, i wanna go to the beach” he makes his way over to the back screen door uses a hand to unlock it, “we’ll be down here if you need us!” jesse practically yells.

but you can barely hear him with ellie’s hands lingering ever so close to your pussy. she wastes no time in turning you to face her and places you two onto the stairs of the pool. she’s immediately on your neck, placing quick and sloppy kisses all over.

“such a fucking tease. dressed like this and not letting me touch you?” she hums into your neck, taking a breath in-between kisses to get her words out. you feel as if you’d float away if she let go of you. her hands were attached to your hips, grinding them harshly against her thigh. you moan into her touch and can feel the heat form between your legs.

“el-lie… hold on” you whine and that finally gets ellie’s attention. “what, babe? am i going too fast for you?” the auburn girl tilts her head, her voice dripping with sarcasm. a fake frown forms on her face before you respond. “not here, dina and jesse are- “ she cuts you off with a kiss, it’s slower this time, “gone. they’re all the way down at the beach, probably doing the exact thing we’re about to do, so…” ellie’s voice trails off as her thumb rubs over your pulsing clothed clit.

you shudder. “d-don’t bring them up right now” you sigh, arching your back into her. it’s your turn to kiss her now, tilting your head you kiss her slowly at first, wrapping your hands in her hair and tugging. ellie whines into your mouth and you pull her off your mouth.

she looked so good like this. face flushed, head tilted back, lips pink and swollen. her pupils were so dilated you were concerned for a second. only a second. before you lean into her ear and whisper, “want to fuck me in the hot tub?”

ellie practically moans at the thought. as you let go of her hair she grabs at the backs of your thighs and massages them. you gently remove her hands and slide off of her. “needy, huh? follow me, baby” you slowly climb up the steps and over the to the isolated pavilion on the other side of the porch.

ellie is following you like a puppy-dog, practically drooling at the sight of your now, wet body. that bathing suit was the perfect idea, she thought.

as you step into the hot tub, you groan. if you weren’t hot already, you were now. you barely get a chance to adjust when ellie wraps her hands around you to grope your tits. she’s pushing you into the back of the hot tub, you could feel a jet in front of you. “what do you think would happen if we turned this on…” ellie reaches one of her hands up and turns the jets on with a small press of a button.

the hot water hits your pussy and you physically jump back. it’s hits right on your clit, you’re a whining mess. “ellie…. el this is too much” you’re grabbing at her hands, her arms, the side of the tub, but nothing works. ellie continues on your tits, face submerged in the side of your neck, working on your jawline. “too much, angel? seeing you in this suit was too much for me, but you didn’t show me mercy, did you?” you moan.

“ah- i… just wanted to” your mind is scrambled, the pressure on your clit along with all the attention on your tits and neck almost makes you cum. and ellie can tell. just as you start to shake. ellie let’s you go.

you’ve never looked back quicker. it looks like ellie’s gone. you’re confused for a second until you see her submerge from the water, shake off her hair, and stare at your ass. “god damn” ellie looks up into your eyes while she slowly leans you forward, giving her full access to your ass. bent over the hot tub, she gropes your ass. gives it quick kisses and gentle smacks. “so pretty for me, such a fucking slut” she squats down in the water and uses her pointer finger to rub your throbbing clit.

“ellie, please. need it so bad” you grind your ass on her fingertip hoping for some kind of friction as you feel her slide your swim suit bottoms down your ass. “look at how wet you are for me” you can hear her smirk as she spreads your lips with her pointer and middle finger. you could practically cum on the spot.

“stand up for me, baby” as you move, ellie slides to sit under you and immediately brings your hips down. her lips connecting to your clit in seconds. sucking harshly, she grips your thighs, massaging them. “el… god, fuck!” you whine, grinding your hips on her face, her tongue flat against your pussy, letting you use her for your pleasure.

“that’s it baby, all needy for me” ellie moans on your clit. you can feel your orgasm catching up to you quickly, ellies tongue lapping at your wet hole and moving up to do quick circles on your sensitive nerve has you trembling in seconds. “ellie! ellie! fuck!” you ride out your orgasm on her tongue while you try to relax your breathing.

ellie gives your clit a quick kiss before slowly bringing you back down into the water. “so good for me, angel, always so pretty” ellie whispers into your ear and cups your face with her hands, dragging you in for a kiss. you eagerly slip your tongue into her mouth. when you break away there’s a string of saliva connecting the two of you.

“ellie, you’re pretty too, you know” tilting your head, it’s your turn to make her feel good.

“was thinking about you, earlier” you slowly grind your hips against her trunks, she spreads her legs slowly, allowing more access. “oh yeah?” ellie smirks and your hands travel to her toned stomach.

“thought about… your abs and your arms” your hands roam her body. “touching me..” you whimper as ellie’s hips move up to meet yours, in slow thrusts. she whispers curses under her breath. she somehow maneuvers her hands under you and slips off her swim trunks, shuddering at the heat of the water.

“fuck, baby, you’re killing me” ellie leans her head back when your hips speed up, you lean forward to kiss on her neck. sucking at her sensitive skin, you can feel her moan, “come on, make me cum, angel” ellie’s hands are in your hair when your lips travel up to meet hers.

your hands eagerly grope her clothed tits as her head falls back again “f-uuuck, baby, im close” your hips speed up as she tightly grips at your hips. her head is cuddling into your shoulder as she finally comes down from her own orgasm and you follow close behind her.

you become a whining mess in her mouth. chanting her name, yet again, and she loves every second of it.

“always so good for me” ellie takes your hands in hers and pulls them down to her side. you lean down and kiss her, “remind me not to wear this suit in front of you again” you giggle and see ellie scoff.

“please, i already know what your next birthday gift will be”

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mikeysw1fey · 5 months

Text

penalty shot

request linked here

pairing: jenna ortega x female reader

warnings: none

a/n: i think i’m also gonna start writing for arcane characters (mostly sevika) , lemme know what u guys want :)

Stress doesn’t even begin to cover the amount of anxiety I feel as I stand under the stadium lights readying myself to kick a penalty goal. My team may be up by one but missing this kick could ruin my chances at moving up the league ladder. Plus it doesn’t help that football fans are never lenient when it comes to penalty goals, miss it and your basically the worst player to ever walk the field.

Taking a deep breathe I glance toward the goalie who stands crouched in the middle of the goal side stepping from side to side ready to dive. With a clench of my jaw and a last glance at my team behind me I manage to calm myself as each member nods their head in encouragement. Finally I begin to run towards the ball, grass kicking up in my wake as I lift my right leg and make contact with the ball.

The stadium is silent, watching as the ball flies through the air looking as if it’s going for top bins. My hopes are quickly squashed however as the goalie manages to get a finger to the ball causing it to fly up and over the goal and straight into first row of the crowd.

An ooh echoes around the stadium as my ball smacks a brown haired woman dead in the middle of her face. Her hands immediately flying up to her nose as she winces in pain. “Shit.” I mumble under my breath seeing the woman on the big screen, my cheeks blushing red as I notice how beautiful she happens to be.

“Dude, you just hit Jenna Ortega in the face.” My teammate Sam whispers, her eyes not leaving the big screen either. “Of course I did. I’ll be right back.” I pat her on the back before heading over towards Jenna who dabs at her nose which runs red blood all down her chin.

“Hey, no you can’t leave the field.” The ref sprints in front of me, an arm extended out before me to prevent me from getting any further. “I just need to see if she’s ok.” I plead gently pushing the refs arm.

“Only time your leaving this field before time is up will be for a red card and if u keep behaving how you are it won’t be far away.” The refs eyes narrow before he picks up his whistle and blows it loudly in my ear.

“Get back on the field.” He seethes, a vein popping on his neck. Holding my hands up in surrender I head back to the field glancing over my shoulder to find Jenna already staring at me. I send her an apologetic smile to which she raises her eyebrows with a tiny smile she tried so hard to hide.

Throughout the rest of the match I can’t help but glance over at the brown haired woman who holds a cloth to her nose yet still cheers loudly. Even with the blood running down her chin and the large cloth covering half her face, her beauty still managed to force the blood to rush to my cheeks.

Finally only two minutes remain with the score now tied. The crowd fades into background noise as I slide across the ground successfully tackling a girl from the opposite team causing her to trip over my foot as it hits the ball from between her legs. Her arms extend as she gasps, glaring at the ref as if trying to force him to give me a yellow card.

Luckily the call never comes allowing me to take the ball that rolls down the field and dribble it towards the goals. Defenders come my way pausing my play as I somehow manage to manoeuvre the ball between their legs until it is just me and the goalie once again.

Kicking hard silence falls over the stadium as my ball flies through the air. Only this time the goalie dives the opposite way allowing the back of the net to catch my ball.

The stadium erupts into cheers and applause, my name echoing across the stadium as the buzzer finally sounds ending the match. I find myself surrounded by my team mates, each one wrapping their arms around me and slapping my back in celebration of our victory but I only have eyes for one person at this time.

“Guys, guys hang on I have to do something. One minute.” I force my way out the group and head towards the crowd once again, only this time no ref stops me as I lean against the barricade where Jenna sits.

“I’m so sorry for hitting you.” I apologise instantly, gently biting my lip as she sticks her tongue out to wet her lips. “You made up for it with that last goal.” She shrugs with a small smile. “Plus it’s not broken so.” Jenna pulls the cloth away from her nose for a second as if to show me her button nose is far from damaged. “Yeah still looks perfect to me.” I flirt holding eye contact with the girl who raises an eyebrow. “That doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt.” She fakes a pout and I let out a laugh before stepping backwards.

“Well then let me make it up to you.�� I pull my jersey over my head leaving me in just a sports bra and shorts. “Got a pen? I can sign it for you too.” I chuckle as Jenna not so subtly eyes my stomach before reaching into her back pocket. “How do you even know I go for your team?” She teases watching me with a grin as I roll my eyes.

“Well the cheering and screaming of my name was a large sign.” I retort leaning my jersey against the barricade so I can write on it.

Signing my name and my number onto the jersey I place it in her hand, ignoring the tingling sensation as her finger graze mine. “Don’t sell it or I’ll have to change my number for the third time.” I playfully threaten. “Ooh I might just have to. Call it revenge.” Jenna chuckles before glancing over my shoulder.

“Looks like people are waiting on you. I’ll text you. Maybe.” She grins. I raise an eyebrow. “I’ll be waiting Miss Ortega. And I promise next time I see you there will be no blood noses involved.” I send her a wink before turning around and heading back to the field.

#wlw post #lesbian #fluff #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x female reader #soccer #football

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phntmeii · 4 months

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Random things I think OPLA Characters would Do ♡

(Points involving y/n can be read as Platonic or Romantic !!)

> Luffy kneads your stomach like a cat would. No explanation for it, just does it while he talks.

> Zoro sees you going in the wrong direction, palming your head and forcibly turning you in another wrong direction confidently.

> Mihawk hates being sick since one time he sneezed like a dad in the middle of him lecturing you and you made fun of him for it.

> Usopp fell off of a barrel while dramatically retelling an adventure he totally went on only to stand up on the barrel again to continue and he ended up falling again.

> Luffy extends his arm from the other side of the ship just to annoy you by trying to stick his finger in your nose.

> Nami definitely has smacked her map against everyone’s head one by one after interrupting her again.

> After getting annoyed at Sanji, he bounces his eyebrow and makes a kiss sound as you leave.

> Shanks definitely goes dad mode, crouches down, hands on his knees if you’re shorter than him.

> If you take away Buggy’s head so he can’t reattach himself, he definitely talks for as long as possible about nothing until you’re annoyed enough to put his head back.

> You and Usopp made eye contact as he once tried to help Sanji’s dish and accidentally dropped the whole seasoning bottle in. He slinked away, keeping eye contact like a secret promise not to say a word.

> Luffy insists on braiding your hair just for it to become somehow knotty and matted within ten minutes.

> Zoro watched you fall on your ass in combat, laughing, then getting accidentally smacked by Luffy’s extended arm and getting swung forward twenty feet.

> Sanji has never denied carrying you bridal style and has even done so while in the middle of combat.

> Nami gives a side eye to you as indication of something incredibly stupid is about to happen at the hands of one of the others.

> Luffy extends his arm and smacks the top part of a door as he enters, trying to prove to you how tall he is.

> Buggy sleepwalks and occasionally detaches in his sleep and you’ll be jumpscared by a random chopped off arm at your bedside.

> Mihawk started by just purposely bumping into you while he walks when you first met but now puts his hands on your arms and guides you aside.

> Usopp likes to take your hand and trace letters on your palm and have you guess what he said.

> Sanji has bought the same color outfit that you did so you two can match. He wants to be someone’s arm candy/accessory to an event.

> Zoro gets seasick and blames it on Sanji and his cooking just to have something to complain about Sanji for.

#opla #opla x y/n #opla x reader #opla zoro #opla sanji #opla usopp #opla nami #opla luffy #opla mihawk #opla shanks #opla buggy #roronoa zoro #monkey d. luffy #vinsmoke sanji #one piece live action #zoro roronoa x y/n #sanji x reader

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munson-blurbs · 11 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

Summary: Conflict arises with Harris's new teacher, filling Halloween with more tricks than treats. But it's nothing a visit with Ms. Sweetheart can't fix.

Warnings: allusion to Reader and Eddie's one-night stand, panic attack, Reader's grandma has dementia.

WC: 5.6k

Chapter 6/20

Scruffy!Eddie edit credit to @eddiemunsons-missingnipple Divider credit to @saradika

Guns N’ Roses t-shirt: check. Goodwill jeans with makeshift holes in the knees: check. Bandana tied snugly around his forehead: check. Arms littered with an assortment of temporary tattoos: check.

Eddie grins as he assesses his son’s costume, reaching into the thrift store bag as he pulls out the pièce de résistance: a denim jacket, only two sizes bigger than Harris would usually wear. It was a bit over what he’d been hoping to spend, but he’d reasoned with himself that it could also be worn after Halloween. It was an investment, he’d decided, not a splurge.

His smile falters when Harris indignantly stomps his foot, crossing his arms over his chest. While Eddie had hoped his son would go with more badass tattoo options, perhaps a skull and crossbones or even a snake, he had insisted on a Sesame Street theme. Cookie Monster munches on his signature treat as Harris pouts.

“No, Daddy!” he whines, twisting away when Eddie holds the jacket closer to him. “I can’t wear that!”

“C’mon, Har,” he tries, scouring his brain to come up with a convincing enough lie. “Axl Rose wore jackets all the time!”

Harris doesn’t just shake his head; he swivels his entire body back and forth in protest. “I don’t care! No one’s gonna be able to see my tattoos!” He holds out both arms in front of him; nearly every square inch (besides the section blocked by his cast) is covered. Eddie had spent most of last night diligently applying them precisely where Harris had asked, lest there be a tantrum. There was, unfortunately, a headless Elmo from when Harris had asked–no, demanded–that he try by himself. Still, Eddie figured that only one casualty was a win.

“Those are some sweet ol’ tatties,” Eddie muses, biting back a laugh at the two-dimensional Big Bird on his son’s forearm. “But wouldn’t it be cool if you wore the jacket into school and then–BAM!--took it off and surprised everyone with them?

Harris appears to consider this, mouth tucked into his cheeks. “Can I show Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Sure, bud. We’ll stop by her classroom when I pick you up.” Whatever gets us out of the house in weather-appropriate attire. “But first, show me your most metal pose.”

The boy opens his mouth wide and sticks out his tongue as far as it extends, scrunching his face dramatically until the corners of his eyes crinkle. His middle and ring fingers press into his palm, thumb crossing over them, with his forefinger and pinky raised in the quintessential rock ‘n roll symbol.

Eddie swoops down and smacks a wet kiss to Harris’s cheek. “That’s my boy!”

Standing among the crowd of parents at pick-up, Eddie opts out of making banal small talk and instead chooses to look at the bulletin board. The previous art project that had been hanging against the faded blue paper–”self-portraits” that the students had made on the first day of school–have been replaced by finger paintings of orange blobs that vaguely resemble pumpkins. There wasn’t one for Harris because he was in Ms. Sweetheart’s classroom then, so it’s his first art project in his new class. He eagerly scans the board for Harris’s, frowning when he can’t find his name.

Maybe it’s still drying, he tries to convince himself, imagining his son over-saturating the paper with globs of paint. It wouldn’t be entirely out of character.

Ms. Marion’s classroom is a sea of costumed children. A boy dressed as one of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles stands by his mom. A Cinderella, a black cat, and a Thomas the Tank Engine surround Ms. Paula. As soon as Eddie spots Harris, he smiles and waves him over, hurriedly scribbling his signature on the sign-out sheet.

He expects Harris to zoom past the other kids, fueled by the standard Halloween diet of sugar and chocolate, but he just kind of…mopes to the doorway. His shoulders slump dejectedly, and though he keeps his gaze low, Eddie can still see the film of mist staining his innocent eyes.

“Har, what��s wrong?” He waits for an answer, and when he doesn’t receive one–an oddity for his perpetually chatty son–he tries a new tactic. “Wanna show me where your artwork is? I must be gettin’ old, because I couldn’t find it on the board out there.”

“‘S not there,” Harris mumbles, scratching off a flaking piece of the Rosita tattoo on the back of his hand. “I didn’t get to finish.”

Eddie watches as the tears start to slip down his cheeks, and he brings him into the hallway before Ms. Marion or Ms. Paula sees what’s going on. He can’t be certain, but his paternal instincts tell him that they’ve contributed to Harris’s sad state. “Why not?”

“I-I t-tried, but M-Ms. Mar-Marion and Ms. P-Paula got m-mad at me.” The words come out between choked sobs. “‘C-Cuz I c-couldn’t sit d-down.”

“What do you mean?”

“I k-keeped st-standing up, ‘cuz m-my legs wanted to st-stand.” The explanation tumbles out of him so quickly, as though he’s trying to beat the clock. “And they s-said if I did-didn’t sit down, I c-couldn’t do art. But I k-keeped f-f-forgetting, and th-they t-taked away my pay-pay-paper and said, ‘sit in the c-corner!’”

Eddie’s breath hitches, and he has to clear his throat before speaking again. “Did…did that happen in Ms. Sweetheart’s class? The legs thing?”

“Mhm,” Harris manages, “b-but she let me stand and d-do ju-jumps to get the wig-wiggles out. She just t-t-telled me not to do ju-jumps with s-s-scissors, ‘cuz of s-safety.” His breathing increases to a rapid pace, face flushing red as his chest heaves. “B-But Ms. M-Marion ye-ye-yelled at me!”

Eddie’s brows pinch together, and he gently presses his calloused palms against Harris’s narrow shoulders, desperate to prevent him from hyperventilating. “Harris, you gotta calm down. I can’t understand you when you’re crying like this!” Despite his efforts, his frustration bleeds into his tone, and he winces when the latter sentence ends with an unwanted snap. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s just an art project.”

“Harris?”

The sound of your voice draws the attention of both Munsons. You let out a small oof as Harris flings himself against your legs, and though he practically flew the five foot distance between his father and you, now is not the time to remind him about using his walking feet.

“Hey, hey, what’s going on?” You crouch down, taking his hand in yours, and notice his quick, shallow breaths. “We’re gonna breathe together, okay? Eyes on me.” You demonstrate inhaling for three seconds, holding for three seconds, and exhaling for three seconds. “Now let’s do it together.”

He hesitates but ultimately follows your lead, and you guide him until his breathing slows enough for him to sputter, “I t-tried to sit, b-but I c-couldn’t.”

You haven’t the slightest idea what he’s referring to, but Eddie fills you in. You feel the heat of anger creeping through your body, not just for the way your co-worker treated the sweet boy, but for her insolent approach to teaching as a whole.

“We can go to my classroom,” you offer, silently sighing in relief when the boy nods in agreement. “I don’t know if I have the supplies to make the same project as Ms. Marion, but if you have a few minutes, you can draw something now. I bet Mr. Will would love to help you; he’s a super-duper artist.”

Just as you’d predicted, Will jumps at the opportunity to help Harris with his impromptu art project, encouraging him to draw something that makes him happy. While he does that, you comb through the mess left behind from the Halloween party you’d thrown. You’d sooner toss one hundred cupcake wrappers in the trash before attempting a conversation with Eddie Munson. He’s simply too unpredictable; kind and thoughtful one day, harsh and guarded the next.

One of the wrappers in your hand drops to the floor and you reach forward to pick it up, pinching the pleated material between your pointer and middle fingers. You can feel Eddie’s eyes on your form, the way the backs of your thighs are slightly exposed when you bend over, and you stand up quickly.

“Are you the Magic School Bus lady?” He takes in your lavender dress with planets and stars stamped all over it. Oh. He wasn’t checking you out; he was just trying to figure out who you’d dressed up as. Good. Anything else would be inappropriate.

So why does a twinge of disappointment radiate through you?

You glance at your costume; with all of the commotion, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing one “I mean, would I even be a teacher if I didn’t jump at the chance to be Ms. Frizzle?” You motion over to Will, decked out in green from head to toe with two yellow horns glued to a headband atop his mop of brown hair. “Have you met my trusty sidekick, Liz the Lizard?”

Eddie laughs. “Yeah, Byers actually used to play in my D&D club back in high school. Made some pretty sick art pieces to liven up that dingy excuse for a room.”

You look between the two of them, trying to do the mental math. “Will, didn’t you say you’re twenty-four?” And if Eddie is thirty, that means…

“I, uh, had a little trouble graduating,” Eddie sheepishly admits, ruffling the back of his hair and offering a tight grimace. “But I got there eventually. Class of ‘86, baby!”

“Worked out for me,” Will shrugs with a grin, looking up from Harris’s drawing. “You were the best DM Hellfire ever had. Although, rumor has it that Erica Sinclair gave you a run for your money.”

Harris picks up a yellow marker, furiously scribbling a circle in the left-hand corner of his paper. You try peering over to see the whole drawing, but he presses his whole body against the table, successfully thwarting your plans. “No peeking!” he warns, not putting his feet back on the ground until you’ve averted your gaze. “‘S a surprise.”

You put your hands up in surrender. “All right, all right. I’ll be surprised.” You raise your eyebrows at Eddie, who shares a similar response in return.

“Dunno when he got so bossy,” he snorts before calling out to his son, “Har-Bear? Five more minutes. We gotta get home to trick-or-treat with Grampa Wayne.”

“Ooh, that sounds like fun!” you echo as Harris grabs a purple marker from the box. “What’s your favorite candy?”

“Hmm.” Harris uses his free hand–the one with the cast–to tap his chin, continuing to color with the other one. “M&Ms. But only the plain ones. Daddy doesn’t let me have the peanut ones ‘cause he says I could choke.”

You shoot a sly, knowing look at Eddie. “I’m sure that’s the only reason. Such a selfless father.” You cross your arms over your chest and cock your head innocently. “And what do you do with all of these confiscated peanut M&Ms, Mr. Munson? Donate them?”

Eddie tucks his lips into his mouth to mask his grin. “Listen, the jig is gonna be up at some point,” he mumbles out of the corner of his mouth, loud enough so you can hear but soft enough that Harris can’t. “Let me enjoy my free candy while it lasts.”

“No judgment here,” you say with a small laugh, “they’re one of my favorites, too.”

“TA-DA!” Harris shouts, startling you, Eddie, and Will. He holds up the construction paper and smiles widely. To anyone without kids–or who didn’t teach preschool for a living–it would look like a bunch of colorful scribbles. But you can tell that he’s drawn a group of people standing by a tree (or a really, really tall flower) underneath the sun.

“Wow, Harris! That’s amazing!” you clap your hands together to punctuate your enthusiasm. “Who are all those people?”

Harris’s pointer finger travels left to right across the paper as he names each person: “That’s me, Grampa Wayne, Daddy, you, and Mr. Will!” The stick figure that represents you has a purple scribble on it, which you realize must be the costume you’re wearing. “An’ we’re all smiling because we’re happy!” Sure enough, each person has a curved red line at the bottom of their face. But there’s something else that catches your eye.

All of the people have a small space between them, except for you and Eddie. The circle that Harris drew to represent your left hand overlaps with the circle that is Eddie’s right.

You glance at the real Eddie, and if he notices, he doesn’t give any indication. “I love it, buddy.” He takes the drawing and inspects it closely. “Yup, this one’s definitely going on the fridge when we get home.” He flicks the paper for good measure. “Go clean up the markers so we can head out, Axl Rose.”

Among the noise of markers clattering back in the bins, you lean in to Eddie, inadvertently inhaling the scent of his cigarettes and cologne. For a brief moment, you’re transported back to the night fate had led you to cross paths; the thought of his lips on your neck in the stairwell has you clenching your thighs and swallowing thickly as you murmur, “I can ask him to make a new one with just you, him, and his grandpa.”

Eddie shakes his head. “N-No. I like this one.” He lets one hand drop to his side and it grazes yours. His rings brush your knuckles, and you instinctively draw back at the sensation of the cool metal and the zing of heat that pulses at his light touch. “Sorry,” he mumbles, not making eye contact.

“S’okay.”

He blinks a few times and redirects his attention to his son. “What do you say to Mr. Will and Ms. Sweetheart for letting you do your art project?”

Harris’s little chest swells as he inhales deeply, storing up as much oxygen as he can fit in his lungs before bellowing, “THANK YOUUUUUUU!”

Eddie brings his palm to his ear canal, rotating his forefinger as though trying to repair a punctured eardrum. “Love the enthusiasm,” he says through gritted teeth. “Seriously, though. Thank you both so much.”

“Of course,” Will says warmly, picking up the marker bin and placing it in its space on the shelf.

“Anything for Harris.” You smile, motioning towards the little boy already by his father’s side. “Have fun trick-or-treating tonight, bud! I can’t wait to hear about all the yummy candy you got.”

Harris scrunches his nose in contemplation. “Are you going trick-or-treating, Ms. Sweetheart?”

“Nah,” you laugh, “I’m gonna stay home and give candy to all the kids who come by.” And pray that Grandma doesn’t curse them out, you silently add.

“Oh.” Harris pauses, grabbing his dad’s hand. “Okay, bye!”

Eddie chuckles as his son pulls him towards the door. “That’s my cue. Um, Happy Halloween,” he adds awkwardly, waving once before disappearing down the hallway.

There’s so much more that he wants to say: you’re the best; you saved the day; you should be my son’s teacher instead of that old, bitchy bat. But he didn’t have time. Maybe another day. At least, that’s what he tells himself.

Wayne arrives just a few minutes after Eddie and Harris get home. As soon as his gruff voice comes over the intercom, Harris excitedly buzzes him in. “Grampa Wayne’s here!” he yells, even though Eddie’s standing right next to him. He grabs the pillowcase from the couch; it was originally white, but after Eddie accidentally threw in a red sock with the white laundry, it’s tinted light pink.

No sooner does the older man cross the threshold into the apartment, Harris is trying to drag him out again. “Let’s go, before all the good candy is gone!” he whines. His eyebrows pinch together and he drops his grandfather’s hand. “Oh, wait, I gotta show you something.” He scampers off into the kitchen, and Wayne winces when he hears the rattle of magnets falling to the floor.

“I’m okay!” Harris calls out, running back with a piece of paper in his hand. “Look what I drawed at school today!” He gives Wayne the rundown of who’s who.

Wayne analyzes each person in the picture, stopping at the overlapping circles between you and Eddie. “This is great, Har-Bear,” he muses. “Are, um, are Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart holding hands?”

“Mhm,” Harris casually confirms, taking the drawing back. “‘Cause they’re married.”

Eddie chokes on air as Wayne does a double-take. “Congrats, Ed,” he jokes, clapping a hand to his nephew’s shoulder. “Gotta say, I thought I’d at least get an invite.”

“Shut up,” Eddie grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Harris, why do you think that Ms. Sweetheart and I are married?” He wracks his brain for answers, but he can’t come to a logical conclusion. Did I talk about her in my sleep? Oh, shit, what if it was when I had that dream—

“Because you gived her a present,” Harris says, eyes innocent and wide. “And when grown-ups love each other, they give each other presents.”

“Oh, he gave Ms. Sweetheart a present, huh?” On the surface, Wayne’s words are as innocuous as Harris’s, but Eddie hears the teasing buried just beneath.

Harris nods. “Mhm. He gived her a tape!”

“It was the Toni Braxton one that she came into the shop for…that day that, uh…” Eddie raises his eyebrows at his uncle, who nods in acknowledgment. He brings his focus back to his son. “It doesn’t mean that we’re married. People have to go on dates and fall in love before they get married.”

The young boy absorbs this information. “So you should go on dates and fall in love with Ms. Sweetheart!” His face lights up at the idea of it, and it breaks Eddie’s heart to let him down.

So, he doesn’t.

“Why don’t you hang that back up so we can get outta here and get you some candy, huh?” He forces a smile and watches his son scamper into the kitchen before turning back to Wayne and shaking his head.

Harris peels a magnet off of the fridge, the one Eddie bought him on their Daddy-Son day. It has a sea lion balancing a beach ball on its snout, with HAWKINS ZOO printed in bolded letters along the bottom.

Lowering his voice to a whisper, he speaks directly to his drawing. “When Daddy and Ms. Sweetheart fall in love and get married, I’ll finally have a mommy.” He presses his hand flat against the paper as though he’s sealing in the wish. He stays like that for a moment until his dad calls his name, and he clutches his pillow case as they head out the door.

Eddie assumes that the love and marriage talk is done for the evening, but the feeling of relief doesn’t last long. The trio of Munson men is halfway down the stairwell when Wayne starts instigating. “Hey, Har, is Ms. Sweetheart pretty?”

“WAYNE!” Eddie grits his teeth and shoots a sharp look at his uncle. The last thing he needs is for Harris to get his hopes up about a blossoming romance between his dad and his former teacher.

“Oh, yeah!” Harris gleefully agrees, oblivious to the mounting tension. He grips the railing and jumps from the second to last step onto the tiled landing below. “Super pretty! Like a princess.”

The eldest Munson turns to Eddie. “Didja hear that? Pretty like a princess.”

“I heard him,” Eddie replies tersely.

“Daddy?”

No. Don’t ask me. Harris Wayne Munson, do not ask me what I think you’re going to—

“Do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty?”

Although he anticipated the question, Eddie still freezes. If he disagrees, Harris will inevitably want to know why not. And if he’s being honest with himself, he can’t name a single ugly thing about you.

He does think you’re pretty. He thinks you’re beautiful. Gorgeous. Stunning. And even though he’s literally seen you naked, fully on display for him–a memory he revisits more often than he’s willing to admit–it’s the thought of what you did today that solidifies your beauty. The way you’d effortlessly calmed Harris down without Eddie even having to ask. The frown on his face almost instantly became a smile, the flow of his tears ceasing and turning into the giggles that brought sunlight into Eddie’s life. You did that.

Any woman can be sexy, but you? In that moment, you were perfect.

Fuck.

“Daddy? Hello?”

At the sound of Harris’s voice, Eddie realizes that he physically hasn’t moved from his spot on the stairs. His hand is gripping the banister so tightly that it leaves an imprint in his palm. “Yeah, buddy,” he manages through his Sahara Desert throat. “I think Ms. Sweetheart’s pretty.”

“Like a princess?” Wayne’s eyes twinkle mischievously. It’s been a long time since he’s been able to tease his nephew about a crush, and he’s not passing up this limited opportunity.

“Yeah. Like a princess.”

Education outsiders might think that Halloween is one of the worst days to be a teacher. The lethal combination of sugar and excitement barely contained in tiny costumed bodies seems like a recipe for disaster. But any teacher worth their salt will tell you that there is a day far, far worse than Halloween: November 1st.

On Halloween, there is the expectation for fun. There’s a costume parade, classroom trick-or-treating, and even a little party. The kids are out of control, but who cares? It’s Halloween.

But on November 1st, there is work to be done. And you’re expected to teach the months of the year to 10 four-year-olds who are suffering from candy hangovers and won’t stop asking why they can’t go trick-or-treating again today.

You and Will are preparing for battle as students trickle in, excited to show off the candy stashes they acquired the night before. Abby Carver cries because she ate her Reese’s cup and now she’s sad that it’s gone. Joshua Harrington is continuing to “sling webs” at the other kids despite your incessant reminders that he is no longer Spider-Man. A fight over a KitKat bar breaks out not even five minutes into the day, and you confiscate it before someone causes serious bodily harm.

Two fingers lightly tap on your shoulder—too high up to be a kid—and you whirl around with an irritated, “what?”

“Whoa,” Eddie says, concern etched into his otherwise soft features. He takes a small step back, nearly tripping over a rogue Lego that somehow made its way out of the toy area. He stumbles but catches his balance easily. “Everything okay?”

“‘S a warzone out here,” you try and joke, but you feel it fall flat. You’re too tired for humor. Grandma may not have yelled at the trick-or-treaters like you’d feared, but she did get increasingly angrier with each knock on the door. After the fifth time of her snarling at you to “shut the hell up” (like you could simultaneously be on both sides of the door), you’d relented and just put the candy bowl on the welcome mat, scribbling “TAKE ONE” on a yellow sticky note, adhering it to the plastic container.

Two decades earlier, Halloween at Grandma’s house had a completely different connotation. She’d have a little pizza party all set up for you, and she’d buy a big bag of your favorite candy, in case you didn’t get enough during your door-to-door quests. And she’d always let you watch whatever spooky movie your heart desired, regardless of your parents’ rules.

“That’s what grandmas are for,” she’d said with a wink, and the two of you curled up to watch Little Shop of Horrors. Her demeanor matched the hokey magnet on her fridge that read, If I knew how fun my grandkids would be, I would’ve had them first. You’d stay like that until you both fell asleep, only being roused by your parents arriving to pick you up. The good old days, before Grandma waking up involved watching the confusion in her eyes as she tried and failed to place you.

“C-Can I help you with something?” Your guard goes up immediately when you notice that Harris isn’t with him. The time you’d spent together after school yesterday had been nice, fun, even, but you couldn’t trust that today would be the same. Not after what happened a few short weeks ago.

“I, um…I just swung by to give you this.” He reaches into the inner pocket of his denim jacket; it’s the same one that he lent to Harris when he’d forgotten his at home. A flash of yellow paper catches your eye, and he unfurls his palm to reveal a small bag of peanut M&Ms. “You said they were one of your favorites, right?”

You look at the treat, not willing to reach out and grab it. What if it’s a joke? An elaborate ploy to reel you in, just to shout “gotcha” when you finally let your walls come down?

“Are they poisoned or something?” you quip, crossing your arms over your chest. “Did you spike them with Ex-Lax?”

Eddie’s lips part in surprise before he collects himself. “Guess I deserve that,” he mumbles. “But, no. They’re not. I swear on James Hetfield’s life.” He drags his fingernail over his heart in an X-formation.

You take the bag, inspecting it for any sign of tampering, but you come up short. The edges are sealed, and there are no pinpricks as far as your eyes can see. “Dipped into Harris’s stash for me?”

“Hey, these bad boys are technically mine for the taking until he figures out that he can eat them without dying.” Eddie chuckles lightly, peering at you through impossibly long lashes. “But, yeah, I was hoping you’d accept these as part of my apology. Or apologies, I guess. For, uh, for not calling when I said I would, and all of the awful shi—awful things I said to you.” His voice is barely above a whisper as he steps closer and says, “I am so fucking sorry.”

You make a small tear in the bag, tapping it against your palm until an M&M falls out. Popping the blue candy in your mouth, you allow the shell to start dissolving on your tongue before crunching on the peanut, hoping you can process what he’s said by the time you’re finished chewing.

This is what you’ve been waiting for—an actual heartfelt apology. His brown eyes reflect nothing but shame and remorse, and you can tell by the way that he’s fidgeting with his rings that he’s anxiously awaiting your reply.

His vulnerability softens you slightly, and considering you haven’t keeled over after ingesting the candy, you throw him a bone.

“This fun size bag covers the ‘not calling’ part, but I’m gonna need a lot more candy if you want me to forgive you for what you said at the music store.” You keep your tone light; teasing, even, but there’s a layer of truth to it. He can’t merely waltz into your classroom with a gift and expect you to forget his hurtful words.

Eddie nods, his frizzy curls brushing the tops of his denim-clas shoulders. “I know. I’ve said some pretty terrible things in my life, but that might’ve been the worst. And, um,” he fumbles his words, desperately searching for the right ones. Semantics has never been his forte. “You didn’t deserve that. It’s not true; your grandma didn’t want to forget you. And…neither do I.” When you raise your eyebrows, he starts to backtrack. “Because you’re so great with Harris; like, you understand him and stuff. He’s always talking about you.”

Daddy, do you think Ms. Sweetheart is pretty? The question replays like a song he can’t shake from his head, its melody familiar but the notes still keeping him on edge. Pretty like a princess, only instead of saving her, I’m the one who needs to be rescued. So much for Prince Charming, huh?

The M&M melts in your mouth while you formulate a response to his candid admission. Sweetness seeps into your taste buds as you try to straddle the line between careful consideration and overthinking. Speak too quickly and you might say something you’ll regret. Take too long and you’ll make this even more awkward.

“W-Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Short, simple, to the point. Your words are slightly slurred by the candy obstruction, but what else is there to say? You could add that you forgive him, but you’re truthfully not sure that you do. His words scarred, had taken your already mangled self-worth and snapped it into pieces, and so did his reasoning for hurting you. Despite the love and kindness you’d shown his son, Eddie had fully believed that you were responsible for spreading personal information that would wound him. It was exactly as Jeff had said: Eddie struck below the belt at the first sign of conflict, so determined to protect himself that he didn’t even realize that he was attacking the people on his side.

The sound of books clattering to the floor snatches your attention from him, and you whip your head to your little classroom library to see two kids standing over a pile of fallen books, guilty looks stamped on their faces. “I’ve gotta go,” you blurt out, dashing off to assess the damage. You’ve never been so grateful for your students causing mischief.

The hour hand crawls to the number two; at one point, you swore the clock was moving backwards. The chaos of the morning was only a preview of the rest of the day’s fiascos, but you and Will had navigated as best as you could.

“Jesus,” he murmurs once the kids have all been dismissed, gingerly rubbing his temples, “that was brutal. I can handle the day after Halloween; I can handle Fridays, but when they coincide? Nope, never again.” He slumps into a chair dramatically, letting his arms drape over the sides.

“Gonna have a glass of wine when you get home?” you joke, wiping Play-Doh residue from a tabletop.

Will nods. “Or a whole bottle.” His focus shifts to your desk, and he nods his chin in that direction. “I see you have something to look forward to tonight, too.”

You follow his gaze, widening your eyes when you see the object he’s referring to. A bag of peanut M&Ms–much bigger than the one you’d inhaled this morning–sits on top of your desk calendar; resting next to it is a cassette. You walk over, curiosity getting the better of you. The cassette is Guns N’ Roses’ Appetite for Destruction; you recognize the iconic cover as soon as it comes into view. It’s not your usual music choice, but you’ll listen to almost anything.

There’s a piece of paper taped to the giant yellow M&M bag, folded in equal triads. Messily scrawled across the front in black ink is Ms. Sweetheart. You gently pull the adhesive loose and open the letter, nervously running your forefinger across the irregular edge where it was obviously torn from a composition notebook.

Fun size mistake=fun size bag of candy

Family size mistake=family size bag of candy

I’m really good at fucking things up, but really bad at fixing them. I wish I could say that I didn’t mean to hurt you, but we both know that I did.

You don’t have to forgive me, but I need you to know how sorry I am.

-Eddie

P.S. Not sure if hard rock is your thing, but I saw this at work and it reminded me of the kindness you showed our favorite little Axl Rose yesterday.

“Who’s it from?” Will asks, breaking into your thoughts. “A secret admirer?” He brings his clasped hands to his cheek in mock dreaminess.

You manage a laugh as you fold the note back up and tuck it under the calendar. “If it is, he’s really bad at it, because he signed his name.” When did he even sneak in here to do this? Kind of scary that someone could walk in and you didn’t even notice.

“Aha! So it is a guy!” Will pumps his fist triumphantly, though you’re not quite sure what he thinks he’s won.

“Just Eddie Munson, thanking us for letting Harris draw here yesterday.”

It’s not a total lie, but Will sees right through it. “Uh-huh. Thanking us? So that note is also for me? Can I read it?” He starts towards your desk, outstretched hand reaching towards where you’d tried to hide it, but you playfully swat them away.

You glance at the clock and frown. “If you leave a little early, I won’t tell anyone.”

Will flips you off; over the last two months, you two had developed a sibling-esque relationship that came out more once the kids had left for the day. He grabs his backpack from the supply closet and slings it over his shoulders. “You’re lucky I’m exhausted, or I’d stick around and keep bothering you.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You roll your eyes, knowing full well that he’s itching to leave regardless. “Gotta save up your energy for when Marshall visits.”

Will blushes at the mention of his long-distance boyfriend’s name. He still wasn’t out to many people, but when you’d casually mentioned the date Jess had with a girl named Robin, he’d felt comfortable opening up to you. “I can’t wait!” His grin is so wide you swear it’ll stretch right off of his face. “Thanks again; you’re the best.”

That leaves you alone with your gigantic bag of candy, a Guns N’ Roses cassette, and an apology that you have no idea what to do with.

Once again, Eddie Munson has given you more questions than answers.

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thehighladywrites · 5 months

Text

I still remember the third of December, me in your sweater…

Pairing: azriel x reader, the ic, lucien and elain, and helion mentioned

Summary: angst, no happy ending for him, a bit ooc azriel bc he’s an absolute ass in this. also I can’t make elain the villain bc I love her. bittersweet ending, cassian and feyre being the most wonderul people ever. some swearing, like a tiiiiiny nsfw scene, like it barely counts, but i’ll warn you anyways.

Author’s note: yeah, this was inspired by heather, so definitely listen to it while reading💔 i just think this was the perfect day👀 never again am i writing angst, plus i might have been a bit dramatic when said this was gut-wrenching, i don’t think this was very angsty, just a bit tragic. but i hate angst so any angst is gut-wrenching in my eyes🤷🏽‍♀️ also there’s no revenge better than rising above…

Word count: 6,5 k words

If you see any grammar errors or spelling mistakes, no you didn’t ❤️

"Y/n, I practically hear your teeth chattering. Here, wear this." Azriel removed his sweater, passing it to you with a hint of concern in his eyes. You bit the inside of your lip to keep from smiling, he was always so thoughtful and observant. It was on of the reasons you fell in love with him.

"It's okay, Az, you'll freeze." You attempted to return the warm clothes, but he firmly pushed them back, fixing you with a stare that left no argument.

"I won't freeze. You know I'm used to this weather. Bet you miss your old home right about now." He alluded to your home court, The Day Court where the sun always shines, and standing on the balcony on a crisp December morning doesn't make your fingers feel like they'll fall off.

You arrived in Velaris to assist with document translations, given your expertise. Your services were in high demand across various courts. And initially, a month-long stay extended to two, then three. Eventually, enchanted by Velaris and its people, you asked Helion if you could make it your permanent home. The support of your friends added to the whole experience.

You slid into Azriel's warm sweater, feeling its comforting embrace. The fabric whispered tales of comfort and safety, an unspoken promise against the biting cold. As you adjusted to the newfound warmth, your heart felt a different heat—one that spoke against the unspoken feelings you had towards him. The subtle scent of his cologne lingered, intertwining with the softness of the fabric, creating a scent that seemed to make your heart flutter twice as hard. In that moment, you couldn't help but let the warmth of the sweater mirror the warmth within you.

“ Feel better?” You nodded, avoiding his eyes in fear that he’d be able to see the emotions portrayed on your face.

“ Thanks, Az. For the sweater and all. It’s really warm.”

The corner of his lips twitched as his eyes remained on you, “Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did me anyways.”

He grabbed your hand before you could respond and walked back in, closing the balcony doors. Stuck between friends and something more, you felt lost. Wanting to confess your feelings to Azriel but scared it could mess things up, you were torn. The shared laughs felt like good friends, but those lingering looks sparked a longing for more. Balancing this act, you wrestled with risking the friendship for a shot at something deeper. In the middle of all this, you were standing there, not sure which way to go.

As you hesitated walking further with him, Azriel noticed you stopped walking and furrowed his brow. "Hey, what's up?" he asked, his eyes reflecting genuine concern.

You wanted to tell Azriel how you felt, but doubts held you back. As you looked at him, the sweater felt heavy with unsaid words. You wondered if it's better to say what's on your mind or keep it to yourself. Fear answered for you as you shook your head and gave him a reassuring smile.

——————

Later that day, during dinner, Azriel asked you to meet him in the upstairs library while your friends were distracted, to which you accepted, head spinning at the possibilities.

In the quiet sanctuary of the library, the air thick with unreadable energy, Azriel's eyes met yours. Without a word, he closed the distance and gently pressed his lips to yours, a silent acceptance of the feelings that had lingered in the unspoken spaces between you. The unexpected kiss marked a sweet transition between friendship and the uncharted territory of something more.

——————

For over a year, you and Azriel kept things under wraps, not really calling it a relationship. It was a secret, a kind of unspoken understanding. The stolen moments and shared looks formed the backbone of whatever it was between you. You regularly fell in each other’s beds and spent intimate moments together. There was however one specific night you’d always cherish.

You were in his bed, cuddling after he gave you yet another amazing time. Your legs were h thrown over his hips as you occasionally kissed his plushy lips. He held you tighter and ran his hand under your sweater. His eyes were lidded as he whispered intimately,

“ This sweater looks so fucking good on you, please never take it off. I’ve never given anything to another woman, but there’s something special about you. I love it when you wear it, like a reminder that you’re mine. No one else will wear it.” He pulled you closer and kissed your neck and collarbones. His hot breath made yours hitch as he fondled with your stiffened nipples.

Your attempt to come up with a response faltered as he brushed over another sensitive area, prompting a moan to escape your lips.

————————————

But as time passed, the lack of clarity started to wear on you. The hidden nature of it all was both a source of comfort and frustration. You yearned for more, a real relationship, a label to put on what you had with Azriel.

But with the war and Feyre's sisters entering the scene, everything got complicated. Your attention got scattered, and the chaos made the unspoken thing with Azriel less of a priority for a while.

————————————

After the traumatic and bloody war, you tried to seek Azriel for comfort, but he busied himself with Elain. His focus seemed to be on her, making it hard to find a moment to reconnect. The situation left you feeling unsure about where things stood between you two.

As the days went by, you noticed Elain entering Azriel's world completely, capturing his attention in a way that left you filled with jealousy and pit growing in your stomach. Her presence became a subtle intrusion, and the shared moments that were once exclusively yours now seemed to be scattered between you and her. The laughter and conversations, once intimate, now carried a different tone, a rushed tone to hurry away to Elain. A pang of jealousy crept into your heart, and the undefined nature of your connection with Azriel began to feel more fragile. The fear of losing him to someone else tugged at your emotions, leaving you questioning the unspoken relationship you had shared for so long.

You couldn’t even blame him. Elain was a sight for sore eyes, a beautiful girl with an even more beautiful soul. She had only treated you with kindness, giving you thoughtfull Solstice gifts and advice when needed.

You couldn’t justifiably be mad at her.

You’d pick her over you too.

—————————

Maybe you should just face your problems head on and ask him for some advice to break the newfound ice. His grunts were heard as he punched cassians face, getting some blood on his knuckles. Approaching him in the training pit, you hoped he wouldn’t dismiss you. “ Hey, Az, can we talk?”

Looking at you with an unreadable expression, he sharply replied, “Yeah, sure, quick. What's up?”

You tentatively asked, noticing his mood, “ Um, you wanna go for a walk? I haven’t seen you for a while. Also, we’re supposed to meet tonight, are you still up for it?”

He glanced around, eyes searching for an out, “Can it wait? I've got something I need to take care of.”

You felt dismissed as he didn’t even address what you mentioned and used whatever power you had left and asked, “ I just thought-“

"Look, I'll catch up with you later, alright? But yeah, I guess i’ll meet you tonight." After Azriel quickly walked off, you felt a sting from his unintentional rudeness. He had been acting like this for a while now and they way he hurriedly accepted your offer was making you feel like a second choice. But why? You did want to meet him and he did say yes, so why in the mother’s name did this feel so…?

Trying to shake it off, you found a quiet spot to gather your thoughts. Doubts crept in, making you wonder if his abrupt exit meant something more. Left alone with unanswered questions, you thought about having a straightforward talk about where you stand in his life.

“Hey, you okay? What was that about?” Cassian’s tone was so gentle and inviting and it almost made you spill everything right there, but he already had his own issues and problems with Nesta so you didn’t want to burden him further.

"It was nothing. I, uh, I'll see you later, Cas." You hastily departed, your eyes stinging with impending tears.

————————————

He was late. Again. This had happened seceral times before and despite agreeing to see him tonight, his prolonged absence weighed on you. Feeling a bit pathetic, you rose from your armchair and slipped under the covers, opting for a deep, dreamless sleep.

————————————

As war flashbacks filled your mind, and a suffocating panic took hold in the middle of the night, leaving you sweating. You threw of your sheets, gasping as you made your way to door. Desperate, you rushed to find Azriel, your heart beating louder than the echoing footsteps in the quiet hallways. You hoped to find comfort, a break from your horrors, as you hurried along.

Turning a corner, the world shattered around you. Azriel and Elain stood in an embrace, lost in a kiss that felt like a thousand daggers piercing your chest. The air in your lungs disappeared , replaced by a crushing weight that threatened to swallow you whole. Time was lost as you grappled with the horrible realization that the sanctuary you sought was crumbling before your eyes.

Your Azriel wasn’t yours anymore.

Your Azriel wasn’t ever truly yours, a taunting voice spewed in your head

Quietly, your broken heart mirrored the shattered moonlight, pain etched into you, stranded in heartbreak's silent hallway where quiet screamed louder than war's echoes.

He had chosen to be with Elain even though he promised you he’d see you.

———————————

Your heart was in your throat as you went downstairs for breakfast. The memory of Azriel shoving his tounge down Elains throat was still so fresh and it made something in you ache.

The dining room buzzed with the voices of friends and family as you dropped into a chair between Feyre and Lucien, saving space for more seats in front of you. Glancing to the right from your plate, you noticed Lucien, as he cut into his eggs. Oddly, you hadn't known he was back, despite being good friends. Ever since he learned about his father, he'd been curious about your old home in the day court, where his father ruled. You two became fast friends, and you promised to take him on an exclusive trip there anytime he wanted.

“ Hey, Lucien. How was your trip and when did you come back, I didn’t hear you enter yesterday.”

Yeah because you probably cried yourself to sleep, maybe that’s why.

He flashed his charming smile, tilting his head with playful eyes. "Missed me, Y/n?" he teased, laughing as you playfully punched his arm. Only he would crack jokes so early in the morning.

Deciding to tease him back, you couldn't resist digging into the details of his trip to the continent. You never got tired of his adventures, loving how he narrated them with grace and humor, making you feel like you were right there with him.

"Yeah, so what if I missed you? I enjoy having you around, Luc. But seriously, spill. Did you take down any monsters? Save any damsels in distress?"

Lucien chuckled, leaning in with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Well, I did fight off a swarm of overeager pigeons. Does that count as saving the day or just a triumph against feathery creatures?" he quipped, his laughter infectious.

You howled at the thought of a flock of birds surrounding your friend, pecking at him while he irritatingly tries to remove them.

The room fell silent as Azriel walked in with Elain, and your laughter faded.

A mix of hot and cold flashes hit you as you saw Elain wearing your sweater.

The sweater Azriel gave you a year ago—the one that meant a lot to you.

The one you had grown to love and was a reminder of what could be.

The one that cemented your feelings for him.

He gave it to Elain.

The one he was kissing last night.

The one he swapped you with and then got irritated when you tried to approach him.

The one who was mated to the seething male next to you.

The weight of everyone's stares bore down on you as Elain and Azriel took their seats in front of you and Lucien. Feyre and Cassian's eyes felt like lasers on the side of your head as you couldn't look away from your sweater now worn by Elain. Confusion gnawed at you – you'd tossed it into the laundry basket, yet there she was, flaunting it. The fact that Azriel didn't seem to care only added to the bewilderment, even when he knew what it meant to you. Irritation sparked in you as you got ready to chew him out, because who the hell wears something that doesn’t belong to them. And maybe Elain didn’t know but Azriel sure as hell did and you had enough of whatever bullshit this was. But before you were able to speak up, Feyre beat you to it.

“Elain, where did you get that sweater? I’m pretty sure it’s y/n’s.” Everyone looked back at Elain as red colored her cheeks, she meekly looked at you as she sputtered her explanation.

“ I hope it’s okay y/n, I didn’t know it was yours. I was in the laundry room with Azriel and I got… Well I, I um, got dirty, so he handed me this shirt and told me it was okay but I should’ve asked. Do you want it back?”

Numbness was all you could describe what you felt like. There was no way to miss the insinuation. They fucked and he gave her your sweater to wear after. And she didn’t even know it was yours, so you didn’t blame her. You found a new level of respect for Lucien, because you weren’t even mated to Azriel and you felt all this pain. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how he felt.

Not having the energy for this you gave her a sweet smile and said something that made Azriel’s eyes stay on you the rest of the meal.

“No worries, Elain. The shirt means nothing to me. Keep it. It looks better on you than it ever did on me, anyway.”

You casually picked up your fork, trying to eat away the tension that lingered in the air. Throughout the meal, Lucien remained tense next to you, his mate leaning against the shadowsinger, his arm around her. The gesture practically shouting that he didn't care about Elain's mate sitting across from him, much to Rhysand's dismay.

"Lucien, I'm full. Do you want to accompany me to town? There are a few things I need to get, and I could use some help carrying them." You extended your hand, and he took it, ever the gentleman, placing it so you held onto his arm with a smile.

————————————

Reaching the pathway to the town square, the open nature felt like a breath of fresh air. Despite you and Lucien being able to winnow, a walk through the cold December morning seemed necessary to clear your head. Glancing at Lucien, you sensed a shared need for clarity. Unable to contain it any longer, you decided to spill everything, the weight of unspoken words demanding release.

“I’ll be honest, I suspected something along those lines. I mean you weren’t being subtle about it. But the sweater threw me off.”

“Oh, I suppose our subtlety is not relevant anymore. Lucien, I just want you to know how much I appreciate you and hold you in high regard. Feel free to share anything; I'm here to listen. I can't even fathom how hard it must be when you're mated.”

His sad laughter echoed, tugging at your heartstrings, confirming that it wasn't an easy situation. As he opened up, every word he shared made perfect sense, resonating with what you were feeling.

After wandering around The Rainbow, sipping hot chocolates, and sharing your thoughts, you headed home. However, upon your return to The House, you were greeted by a pacing and visibly upset Azriel. Furrowing your eyebrows, you looked at Lucien who looked just as confused as you. Azriels pacing came to a halt as he quickly made his way over to you.

“ Where have you been? I looked for you everywhere. Why where you out with him?” Hot fury coarsed through your veins as you snapped at his tone. Just who the hell did he think he was?

“Where I am and who I'm with isn't your concern. Now excuse me, I'm going to my room. Lucien, I'll see you around. Thank you for your help.” You stood on your toes, giving Lucien a kiss on the cheek, and then briskly walked to your room, leaving Azriel with his thoughts. Though he certainly didn’t think very long as his footsteps inched closer behind you.

Azriel stood before you with a tense expression. “Why were you with Lucien?” he demanded, his eyes searching for answers.

As much as you missed him and ached for him, there wasn’t a single planet where you’d let him disrespect you and then demand answers like some jealous boyfriend. Anger took over as you stood tall and laid everything for him.

“Listen, I don’t know what you think you’re doing but you can’t talk to me like that. Lucien is a good male, you should know, your fucking his mate and he hasn’t murdered you yet.”

His face was back to it’s neutral state, the state of the shadowsinger and spymaster of the night court. He stepped closer, jaw tight as he spewed words that made your blood boil.

“I don’t want to see you around Lucien again. I don’t care that you’re friends because it looks like you want to fuck him. You belong to me and I don’t share.”

The possessiveness normally would’ve turned you on as it once did when a male tried to hit on you a few months ago. But this just made you want to punch him clean across his face.

“Azriel, I’m not sure you’re hearing me. I may see whoever I want because you’re not my father or mate or anything. And I’m not a thing, I do not belong to you so I will do whatever pleases me.” You stepped closer, interrupting whatever he was about to say.

“Unless you’re actually disturbed, then you’re capable of understanding that you’ve chosen Elain, you’ve neglected me and have chosen her. I don’t blame you, the heart wants what it wants. But atleast grow a pair and say it to my fucking face. How dare you come to me and demand I stop seeing my friend?”

“ Y/n, let me just-”

“ No, i’m saying what I’m going to say then me and you never have to talk unless it’s absolutely necessary.” The last bit of anger you had, fired up the question you had been asking yourself for a while.

“Why did you give her my sweater when you said you’d never give it to anyone. Why would you ever give her what’s mine? From my laundry basket? Are you truly heartless or just plain stupid? And why do you care about what im doing? You’ve made it clear we’re over.” You swallowed back your tears, determination winning over the burning behind your eyes, no fucking way would you cry in front of him.

His words devoid of any sense of emotion rattled you. He ignored everything you said as he gave his stupid answer.

“First of all, it’s just polyester. You’re acting like a child over a shirt. And you’re my mate, so I think I get some say in who you see.” As if his words triggered something, an obnoxious golden thread snapped itse in your chest. The weight of it heavy with sadness and betrayal.

He looked bored and uninterested as he stared you down. “I’ve always wanted a mated and when you first arrived, the bond snapped into place, hence why I fucked you for over a year. And I almost told you about it but then Elain came along and I realized I love her more than I want a mate. You know, The Mother is cruel, she should’ve just made me and her mates so we could’ve skipped this ugly little moment. Oh well-”

A grunt escapes as he staggered back from your punch. That arrogant, hypocritical piece of shit knew you were his mate, he knew it every single time he bedded you, he knew it when you cried and laughed, he knew it when you told him how much you wanted one.

He knew and he didn’t care.

A whirlwind of emotions hit you as the bond intensified. A headache crept in as you turned away and left in silence, your head filling with questions.

How could you face him without the urge to punch again? Did Elain know all this? Did anyone? How could you stay here without wanting to kill him? And why was your face wet?

You halted, a trembling hand reaching for your face. Tears flowed, and a humorless, empty laugh escaped you. You hurried back to your room, sobs breaking through. Collapsing onto the bed, waves of sadness, heartbreak, and betrayal overwhelmed you.

————————————

You stayed in your room, wallowing in self-pity for the next few days without eating or seeing anyone. The House put several plates of food on the table next to you but you just felt nauseous. Your friends had reached out and tried to talk to you only to be met with your silence, it speaking loud enough for them to understand you didn’t want to see anyone.

A knock made you snap your head up as the person persisted. Irritation sparked in you as the knocks kept up. Letting out a sound of annoyance you got up, letting your legs get adjusted from the days of not using them, before strutting over and throwing the door open only to be met with by Cassian and Feyre.

“ Oh, what are you doing here, I think I’ve made myself very clear. I’m really not inte the mood for this.” You sensed an intervention and there couldn’t possibly be a worse time. They ignored you, much to your dismay, and just stepped in and plopped down on one of the plush sofas that decorated your room.

“ Y/n, we haven’t seen you for almost a week. I’ve accepted you don’t want to see anyone but i’m starting to get really worried. Please know that whatever’s burdening you doesn’t have to weigh on your shoulders alone. We’re here for you and if you don’t want to talk to us then maybe Azriel? I know you like each other and have some connection.” Your stomach dropped when she mentioned his name.

"No, absolutely not Azriel. I never want to see that lying son of a bitch ever." They appeared alarmed and confused since you always spoke highly of him. Feyre and Cassian were the only ones aware of the true nature of your relationship with him. They had supported you, and were the only ones shocked about the sweater Elain wore, knowing its significance to you.

"What do you mean? What did he do?" They rose to give you a hug, noticing your eyes glossing over. Sitting on either side of you, they held you as you poured out the details. In the safety of your friends’ embrace, you told the painful details of Azriel's betrayal. The room echoed with the weight of your emotions as they listened, offering comfort and understanding.

"I feel so stupid. I know he's my mate, but I still feel betrayed. He made it clear we were just sleeping together, but there were so many mixed signals, and I just... I don't know. I have no anger left; I honestly don't care anymore. And I know it's not Elain's fault because she doesn't know we're mates, but I'm afraid I'll hurt her if I see her near Azriel. Gods, I really admire Lucien. I wonder how he's gone this long without breaking down." You shook your head as you looked to them. Their expression was laced with sadness and anger towards the spymaster.

“ I’ll kick his ass today at training, I’m so sorry honey.” Cassian was filled with conflict and anger at his dear friend being put through this. And Feyre didn’t look better as she glared at the door as if Azriel might suddenly appear. They were finally both mated and could imagine the pain of their mate doing something like this.

“ Y/n, do you want to come with me and stay at the River House? Maybe some time away from him will do you good. Lucien is also staying there and he has been down lately too. I’ve talked to him and your situations are very similar. Maybe you should talk to him.” Feyre held your hand, her voice gentle as she gave you a smile when you nodded, accepting the offer.

Cassian walked over to your closet and packed you a bag of clothes while Feyre led you to your vanity and brushed through your hair. She pulled it into one of the simpler styles you usually went for. You went onto the bathroom and took a quick shower. Cassian knocked softly and handed you a change of clothes. You felt an overwhelming gratitude for your friends caring nature as tears welled up in your eyes. They approached with laughter, and it sparked a genuine smile from you. Gods, you loved your friends.

—————————

Azriel flew back to The House after spending the day with Elain and dropping her off outside the River House. Though he loved Elain, she hadn’t reciprocated his feelings and it grated his nerves. He threw away a perfectly good mate. She should be loving him back too. As he entered The House, the unusual silence struck him. Cassian and Nesta’s typical noise was absent, and the absence of any sound from you heightened his worry. Azriel anxiously opened doors and searched every corner, looking for any sign of anyone.

He remembered that it was Sunday, the day of their usual family dinner. He let out a sigh of relief and changed before flying to the estate.

————————————

Your wineglass paused mid-air as Azriel walked in, placing a kiss on Elain's shoulder. She glanced at Lucien, subtly distancing herself. Despite her evident discomfort, Azriel nonchalantly put his arm around her. You felt bad for Elain. Maybe she wasn’t feeling Azriel anymore but didn’t have the heart to tell him.

A snarl ripped you from your thoughts as Lucien stood up looking murderous. Elain looked up at him with a hint of relief as Azriel simply pulled her closer and stared at him, face unreadable.

“Get your arm off her before I kill you.” Luciens voice came out gritted and you instinctively moved away a bit, not daring to get too close to the seething male witnessing his mate feel uncomfortable. Lucien was a levelheaded male and it took a lot for him to get really angry, so anyone with half a brain knew not to tread to closely. Rhysand next to him, stood up aswell, sensing that there probably would be a fight, ready to intervene.

“You’re going to kill me? I’d like to see you try.”

That was definitely the wrong thing to say because Elain frowned and pushed his arm away, making her way over to Lucien, calming him down by grabbing his hand shyly. He still held eye contact with Azriel, slightly smiling as Azriel grew angry.

“Don’t lay your hands on her again. If i ever see you making her uncomfortable, I’ll hang you with your own insides.” Elain looked at him with wide eyes and dragged him further down the table.

“Okay, what the actual fuck? What is going on and why are you looking at y/n like that?” Rhysand’s voice broke whatever trance was going on. Your interest peaked as your eyes slid over to Azriel’s only to find them filled with his usual boredom mixed with anger.

You let out a laugh, not being able to stop as you thought about how ridiculous he was being.

“ Well, let’s see. Azriel is my mate and he kept it hidden from me since the day I met him. Oh, and we fucked around for a year or so before he became a dick and started ignoring me, stopped coming to our planned meetings and I finally understood it was because of Elain. But I don’t blame her, I blame him. Hmm… what else? Right! He knew about us being mated and wished he was mated to her instead, and look how that turned out. The one you left me for doesn’t even want you anymore Azriel, how does that make you feel, mate?”

You bit out the last words with poison as you gave him a half smirk. Elain approached you, as everyone soaked up the information. She held your hands in her shaking ones and looked at you with a pained expression.

“ Y/n, please believe me, I didn’t know you two were seeing each other, let alone were mates. He told me you were just friends and nothing more. Had I known, I wouldn’t have ever been with him. And if i’m honest I thought i wanted to be with him, but I want to get to know my mate.” Before she could ramble on you pulled her into a hug, feeling bad for her. She hadn’t know and still apologized.

“Elain, I assure you, I don't hold any blame towards you. I'm happy you want to get to know Lucien. Trust me, he's genuinely funny and nice when he's not being a sarcastic ass.” Laughter filled the air as you and Elain shared a moment, lightening the mood.

You let her go as she got closer to Lucien. No matter how much you wanted to seek your mate out for comfort, you couldn’t let it happen. You knew there was only one thing left.

“ Azriel, I reject the bond. I don’t know how I can ever be with you after this. Not only did you lie to me, you lied to everyone. I’m never going to trust you completely and I think we need to work on ourselves. But it won’t be with each other.” With that you turned on your heel and left for your room, leaving behind a shattered bond and pleading a mate.

———————————————

Azriel's three-month-long begging for a second chance haunted you, likely triggered by witnessing Elain and Lucien's kiss in the courtyard. While you were happy for them, a lingering sadness stayed you, realizing you would never experience a shared bond. Azriel had robbed you of the beauty of a mating bond, and forgiveness felt out of the question. Suffocated by him, you made your way to Feyre and Rhysand's office, ready to ask the dreaded question that had lingered within you for a while.

“ Come in!” Feyre’s gentle voice probed you to open the door as you slithered in. They both looked at you with caution. After breaking the bond, you had been bedridden for three weeks. The physical and mental toll it took on you was overwhelming and some days you questioned your decision. But then you remembered what led you here and just powered through.

“ Guys, I promise I feel much better, so please no more mother-henning. Especially you Rhys.” Feyre let out an amused giggle as Rhys just narrowed his eyes in mock irritation. The weight of what you had to say hung heavy on your shoulders, but you knew they'd support you. Opting for honesty, you decided to rip off the bandaid.

“ I want to move back to the Day Court. I love it here but I miss my home, my siblings, my parents, my friends. I wasn’t supposed to stay this long and even though I love velaris, I can’t live here so close to… him. Not only that but I’ve been sending letters to Helion and he is very eager to meet Lucien and has asked me to check if he wants to come.” You decided to drop the last bomb, asking them for a huge favor.

“I also wanted to see if you could erase my memories of Azriel. Not everything, just the whole fiasco. I genuinely want to move on, and I feel like I won't be able to if I keep dwelling on it. Believe me, I've tried to avoid him and the situation for the past months, but the thoughts still linger.”

They were silent for a moment, likely speaking to each other through their mind. You met their saddened eyes as they nodded.

“I'm sorry you feel this way, Y/n. I genuinely wanted you to feel at home here, but of course we won't force you to stay. We'll erase the memories, but only if you promise to visit someday. Perhaps even let us come to you? I've heard the Day Court's sun is not to be played with, almost rivaling the Summer Court.” You giggled and nodded at Rhysand's words, tears streaming down your face – a mix of happiness and sadness. Overwhelmed with emotions, you embraced them as they gave you a big hug, one of the last you realized.

————————————

You surveyed your now empty room, memories of passionate moments and heartfelt kisses with Azriel lingering in the air. It felt like a distant past, a different life, a different version of you. Shouldering your bag, you descended the stairs. Rhysand had winnowed all your belongings back to your old quarters in Helion's palace. Lucien and Elain, already packed, awaited you at the breakfast table. It was time to share one last meal as residents of this house.

After announcing the news, Lucien and Elain asked if they could join you, insisting on the top-class tour of the court you had promised him. Delighted, you agreed, more than happy to bring your friends along as you all headed back home.

The table was filled with your friends as you shared one last meal, Azriel's seat empty as he was out on a mission. Unable to face him in fear of lingering emotions, you insisted on leaving while he was away.

Feyre stood at the head of the table, a mix of emotions visible in her eyes. She cleared her throat, capturing everyone's attention.

“Today marks the beginning of a new chapter for Y/n, Lucien, and Elain. Though farewells are always bittersweet, we must embrace change and growth. Y/n, you've been a cherished member of our court and a life-long friend, and while your path diverges, our bonds remain unbroken. Never forget that you will always have a home here.”

She smiled warmly, addressing each one individually, “Lucien, my first and dear fae friend, Elain, my kind older sister, your presence has brought joy to our home. The Day Court awaits, and I have no doubt that your light will shine brightly there.”

She raised her glass, “To new beginnings, may your paths be lit by the stars that connect us all. Safe travels, my friends.”

The room echoed with the clinking of glasses, a heartfelt farewell lingering in the air.

————————————

After tearful goodbyes, Feyre and Rhysand exchanged a glance, understanding the weight of your request. Pulling you aside, Feyre spoke softly, “Are you ready for this?"

You nodded, feeling Rhysand place a gentle hand on your forehead as Feyre held the back of your head. Together, they wove their magic, erasing the memories of Azriel and the pain attached to them. As the magic settled, you blinked, a new easiness in your eyes.

Rhys offered a reassuring smile, “May this bring you peace on your journey, Y/n.” You gave them a final hug, walking back to Lucien and Elain and winnowed back to your home.

—————

TWO YEARS LATER

At Helion's annual grand ball, you moved through the crowd, the vibrant atmosphere alive with laughter and music. You glanced around as you spotted your friends.

Approaching your dear friends, you hugged and greeted all of your friends, updating them about your life as you heared the uptade of theirs. Then, unexpectedly, you found yourself face to face with Azriel. His expression revealed a mix of confusion and curiosity. This was the first time you had met him simce you moved. Your friends told you that he was often gone on long missions, only staying briefly to report to Feyre and Rhysand before heading back out. Unbeknownst to you, your friends had slowly decreased their conversations and meetings with Azriel and he was now more of an employee than a friend. They loved both of you but there was no way to just let him back in as a dear friend after what he did.

“Hi, Azriel. It’s been a while. How’s everything going?”

He nodded, "Indeed. I must admit, I'm surprised to see you here."

You chuckled, “Really? I mean it is my home after all. Why is it shocking?”

Azriel furrowed his brows, "I thought... after everything, you hated me."

Your eyes widened in confusion, “Hate? I don’t know what you mean, Azriel. Why would I hate you? You’re a dear friend of mine.”

Realization dawned in Azriel's eyes, “Your memories...” But before he could continue, Rhysand pulled him away.

Azriel's realization hit him hard. The weight of the moment pressed upon him, and he felt a deep sense of remorse. Seeing you free from the memories, both good and bad, brought a profound ache.

He swallowed hard, the truth settling heavily in his chest. He had caused so much pain that you chose to erase him from your mind. A sickness crept over him, the regret of his actions piercing through as he watched you move through the ball, blissfully unaware of the history you once shared. Surrounded by the festive atmosphere, he felt a deep loss and the haunting echo of an irreversible mistake.

You looked happier and healthier than you had ever been. Deciding to not disturb the peace you created, he simply disappeared into his shadows, seeking out their comfort as he always had.

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moremaybank · 1 year

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Hi I was wondering if you could do a Damon Salvatore x reader fic where reader wakes up to find Damon eating her out under the blanket?

MIDNIGHT SNACK — d.s

pairing damon salvatore x fem!reader

summary damon wakes up hungry in the middle of the night — hungry for you, that is

warnings 18+, oral (f. receiving), fingering

author's note haven’t written for damon in foreverrrr so i’m so happy to have written this

damon masterlist

damon let a quiet groan slip from his lips as he slowly drifted out of his sleep. he extended his strong arms, stretching his muscles before peeling his eyes open. his gaze landed on you, sleeping soundly beside him. your back flat on the mattress, bare skin left to the cool air of his bedroom. left cheek smushed into the pillow, full lips slightly parted. eyelashes fluttering in your sleep, with your hair splayed all over the pillow, creating a sort of halo around your head. you looked like an angel, and damon just couldn't resist.

he slid his body further under the covers, maneuvering himself between your legs as he parted them with gentle hands. he licked his lips before he pressed open-mouthed kisses anywhere he pleased on the doughy flesh of your inner thighs, wanting to prepare himself for his favourite meal. he then pulled back to take a look at your pretty cunt; the one he found himself craving every single hour of every single day. if it was viable, he'd spend the rest of his days happily lapping away at your pussy. and for a vampire, that meant a very, very long time.

damon spat onto your core, watching it glide down your folds and to your entrance. his tongue darted out, licking a stripe upward until his lips wrapped around your clit. he swirled his tongue around it gently, savouring the sweet taste of you. you mewled languidly, slowly drifting into consciousness.

"mm, damon?"

"shhh. just relax, baby. let me take care of you," he whispered, massaging your inner thighs as he coaxed you.

you nodded, one hand finding purchase in his raven-coloured locks as damon went back to his task at hand. he sucked your sensitive bundle of nerves into his mouth once again, sucking and tracing circles at it with his tongue, sending shockwaves through your body. your grip on his hair tightened as you held his face closer to your core.

"damon, more. gimme more," you pleaded, words slurred as you basked in the pleasure he was providing you with.

damon obliged, sinking his index finger into your weeping pussy. you gasp at the intrusion, your back arching off the bed as you basked in the satisfaction damon was giving you. your core was sensitive from the actions performed the night before, but all you wanted for was more. more of his kiss, more of his touch, more of him.

"come here. kiss me," you demanded, using your grip on his hair to tug him toward you. he grinned at you before his lips met yours, tongues mingling as he continued to stroke into you with his finger. he plunged another finger into you, the two of them curling upward while his thumb found your clit. he massaged it as your lips collided over and over, and you were rapidly approaching your peak.

you were panting into his mouth, whimpers dying on his lips as he kissed you feverishly. he pulled away before he began to nip at your neck with dull teeth, small love bites already starting to form.

"how do you wanna finish, angel? with my mouth or with my fingers?"

"both, please. want your mouth on me while you make me cum all over your fingers," you begged, gripping onto his broad arms.

once again, damon obeyed your command, bringing his face back to your core so he could lap you up again. you ground yourself against his tongue, and damon was quick to let you use him any way you wished. your cries grew louder and louder until suddenly, your high crashed over you.

damon let you ride out your high before he pulled back to look at you with a smirk, his lips and chin drenched in your release. "you taste way too damn good, sweetheart. want some more?"

"actually, i think it's my turn to taste you," you grinned, your hand circling around his length and giving it a light squeeze.

"hm. i'm good with that."

#damon salvatore #damon salvatore imagine #damon salvatore x reader #damon salvatore smut #the vampire diaries #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diaries smut #the vampire diaries imagine #tvd smut #tvd x reader #tvdu smut #tvdu x reader

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octoberclidan · 5 months

Text

This isn't You

Request: I've got this Supernatural idea for some time now and I guess I thought today would be the day ne being brave and sending you a request. I hope you doing fine. I love your stories so much and most of them I read already more than once=) so, sorry in advance, cause I'm a huuuge simp for drama, angst and hurt im case there will be a happy ending :D

Sam and female reader are in a relationship (don't know if I see the reader as a hunter or if she only helps them out with the research). After a hunt, Sam behaves weird towards his girlfriend, but that only when they're alone. In front of Dean Sam is the normal towards her. But when they're alone, it starts with him being distant. And gets worse when he's rude to her, shoving her out of the way etc. She talks to Dean about it, but he can't really belive it, cause he doesn't notice a change in his brother. Bit by bit she gets afraid of Sam and his behavior is getting worse when he is getting also physically rude to her (bruise her etc) and she's also desperate cause Dean doesn't belive her. During one night Sam seems to have a nightmare and hurts her really bad (choking and hitting or something like that), that Dean wakes up from the screaming and protects reader from Sam. So I imagine a witch cursed Sam and now they need to find the remedy and protect reader from Sam. Maybe you like to add after they cured him she's still afraid of Sam and flinches whenever he gets near her, afraid he's still the bad Sam. And it's hard work for Sam to gain her trust and overcome her trauma he being so evil to her.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

Masterlist

Story:

[Y/N] was sitting in the back of the Impala with several books laid out beside her on witches, and the two Winchester brothers were in the front, Dean driving, Sam flicking through a book of his own. It was a sunny day, and the windows were down just enough to let some cooler air in, but not enough to mess with the pages in the books.

"You sure it's a witch and not a wraith?" Dean asked, looking in the rearview mirror at [Y/N] and then glancing at Sam. "We've seen this kind of thing before, something sucking the life out of people in nursing homes or hospitals. Several times actually".

"It's definitely a witch", [Y/N] said, turning a page in her book. "It's one specific witch".

"Okay, yeah, but how do you know?"

"Dude", Sam spoke up, looking over at his brother. "She explained it all this morning, did you really not listen to anything?"

"What, before I had coffee? C'mon Sammy, you both know not to try and talk to me before I've had coffee". He tapped the steering wheel before glancing back at [Y/N]. "Mind giving me the run down again Sweetheart?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes at him. Dean was like an older brother to her - she loved him, but he could be annoyingly bad at listening sometimes. She took a deep breath and began to retell her story. "A few years back I was on a case, thought it was a wraith in a nursing home out in the middle of Texas", she turned another page of her book, trying to keep her mind on something tangible, since this wasn't a story she liked her mind wandering to, and she'd already told it earlier that morning. "I was hunting with an old friend, it was before I met you two. When we got there, we couldn't find the wraith. Long story short, it turned out to be two witches, a man and a woman, sucking the lives out of the patients to extend their own. They killed my friend, just caught him completely off guard", she gulped back a lump in her throat and rubbed the book's page between her fingers. "I only managed to kill the woman. I just injured the guy and he took off before I could kill him. I've been hunting him ever since. I think he's taunting me. He has this... signature. He reports unusually high numbers of deaths in nursing homes in small towns, I guess when he's getting close to moving on, to the local newspapers, and he always gives his name as 'Ross Murphy'", she looked out of the window of the car. "That was my friend's name".

Sam looked around at her and reached back to grab her hand, which she graciously took. She'd been in a relationship with Sam for several months now and she couldn't ask for a more caring boyfriend. His capacity for empathy and love after everything he'd seen, everything he'd been through, was extraordinary. "She follows the lead every time it comes up, which isn't very often", Sam continued for her. "Usually it takes too long, it's too far away and by the time she gets there he's long gone". He squeezed her hand. "But she caught the report the day it was released this time, today, and he's only a day's drive away. There's a real chance of getting him this time".

"Okay", Dean nodded and sat up straighter in his seat, gripping tighter onto the wheel with a new sense of determination. "This is your Yellow Eyes, we'll help you get him".

She managed a small smile and squeezed Sam's hand before letting go, nodding at him to let him know she was okay, and they went back to their reading.

***

After a quick stop at a motel to get a room and work out a plan, they made their way to the nursing home that had been named in the newspaper article. The witch would recognise [Y/N] straight away, he'd see her coming, so, even though [Y/N] wanted nothing more than to march inside and kill him, she'd agreed to wait in the car and let the boys go in first. She'd described him to them, and the plan was for them to locate him, let [Y/N] know if they found him, and then they'd get him into a room on his own and keep him distracted with FBI questions about the unusual deaths until [Y/N] made her way inside to face him.

She was trying to keep herself occupied by going through the different books she'd brought, and was just about to text them to ask for an update when she saw them walking towards the car. She was confused, an hour was a long time for them to find nothing, unless they'd decided to kill the witch themselves and leave her out of it. If it was the latter, she would not be happy with either of them. Dean got to the car first, opening up the driver's side and sliding into his seat. "Sorry [Y/N], he wasn't there. Handed in his resignation about two hours before we got here, he could be anywhere by now". Sam was quick to slide into his own seat.

"Sorry, I know you wanted this to be the time you got him", he gave her a sympathetic look and she sighed in disappointment.

"What were you doing in there for an hour?" She looked between both of them, and Sam spoke up.

"We decided to split up and do a sweep of the place just in case, ask some of the residents about him".

"Yeah", Dean said, "I spoke to a nurse there, she listed a few towns that she said he'd mentioned to her recently, so I'm thinking we can go through them, catch him before he leaves his signature". He put his hand into his inside pocket and pulled out his small notebook to hand back to [Y/N]. "What do you think? Want to go to the closest one on the list now?"

"Or we could head back to the bunker and regroup, keep an eye on death counts over the next few days in the nursing homes in those towns? I could call Charlie and get her help with coming up with some sort of monitor or notification system for that kind of thing. It would probably be more efficient than travelling around to all those different towns. I mean, some of them are pretty far apart". Sam suggested. The two boys waited for [Y/N] to say what she wanted to do. She was beyond disappointed that she'd missed him again, by such little time too.

"Can we just go back to the motel? I kind of just want to think it over".

"Sure, we can do that", Dean turned around to start up the engine, and Sam turned to face forward too. [Y/N] stared out of the window for the drive back, trying to keep her hopes up.

***

"Alright, you two out, I'll go grab some food", Dean said as they pulled up outside the motel. Sam and [Y/N] stepped out of the car, and she was too upset with how the hunt had gone that she didn't register the fact that Sam didn't wait for her, he just walked straight to the room. Sam always waited for her, he always wanted to walk with her, especially when he knew she was upset. She followed him through the door and set her bag down on the table.

"Can you put that somewhere else? We're going to eat at the table", Sam looked at her expectantly, and she was a bit taken aback by his tone, but picked her bag up and dropped it down on the floor beside one of the beds. "Thanks", he mumbled, looking through his own bag for a change of clothes. "I'm gonna shower". He turned and walked into the bathroom, locking it behind him. Sam always asked if she wanted to shower first, and he never locked the door when it was just the two of them. She stood in the middle of the room, wondering if she'd done something to annoy him, but she couldn't think of anything. She sat down at the table and stared out of the window, wondering what the chances were of them finding the witch before he made a report this time. Sam was quick in his shower, and when he came out he went straight to a bed, laying down on it and flicking through his notebook. After waiting a moment to see if he had anything to say, and he didn't, [Y/N] went for her shower.

When she emerged from the bathroom, Dean was back. The two of them were sitting at the table, taking food out of a bag. Sam looked up at [Y/N] and smiled, patting the chair beside him. "Dean got your favourite". Now even more confused at his sudden change in attitude, she hesitated, but walked over to take a seat beside him. He leaned his arm on the back of her chair and pulled the bag over for her to get her food out of.

"How are you doing now?" Dean asked, picking up a few fries. She shrugged, not really sure how she felt about how the day had gone. She felt Sam move his hand to her shoulder to give it a gentle squeeze.

"We'll get him. Trust me, with the three of us after him together for the first time, he doesn't stand a chance".

***

Sam remained his usual self for the rest of the evening, chatting with Dean and [Y/N]. He and [Y/N] shared a bed and Dean took the second bed like usual, and also like usual, Sam held [Y/N] close to his chest, stroking her back until she fell asleep. He seemed normal the following morning too, and when [Y/N] asked if they could go back to the bunker and work out the best strategy for hunting the witch down, both Sam and Dean were fully supportive.

However, once it got late enough and they'd all been sitting in the bunker's library for several hours looking through Dean's list and trying to figure out the best way to search for the witch, things changed again. Dean closed his laptop and announced that he was going to bed, and as soon as he left the room, Sam's demeanour changed almost instantly. He suddenly looked uncomfortable in his seat and closed his laptop too. "You going to bed too?" [Y/N] asked and he scoffed at her.

"I spent all of yesterday and all of today working on this case for you, and you're going to make a big deal out of me wanting to get some sleep?"

"What? No? Where's this coming from?" She asked, extremely confused by his defensiveness. She'd only asked if he was going to bed because then she'd call it a day too and join him.

"Come on, it's like I can never do enough to please you", he said as he stood up, tucking his laptop under his arm. He turned to leave but she stood up and grabbed his arm.

"Hey, wait. You can't just say that and then walk off!" She tried to turn him around but he shrugged her grip off his arm and continued to walk.

"Just do me a favour and sleep in your own bed tonight, I need a good night's sleep without you suffocating me". With that, he left. [Y/N] stood there with her mouth open, a wave of pain and nausea hitting her which she could most definitely describe as the feeling of rejection. She'd never officially moved into Sam's room, most of her stuff was in a room of her own, but she couldn't remember the last time she slept in there instead of in Sam's room.

"What's with the shouting?" Dean walked back into the room, now dressed in his MoL dressing gown. He walked past [Y/N] to grab his laptop, then walked back over to her. "[Y/N]? Why are you just standing there?" He looked down at her to wait for a response when he saw a tear escape from her eye. "Hey, what's wrong? Why were you shouting? Where's Sam?"

"He..." She swallowed and cleared her throat when her voice sounded shaky. "He told me to sleep in my own room tonight". Dean furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"Why? That doesn't sound like him".

[Y/N] shook her head in agreement. "I think I did something to piss him off, but I have no idea what".

"Maybe he's just tired. I'm sure he'll be all apologetic in the morning", Dean gently patted her shoulder. "Go get some sleep, I think we're all tired". He smiled at her reassuringly before leaving the room to head to his bed for the night. [Y/N] sighed, trying to believe Dean's words that Sam was just overtired and he'd be back to normal in the morning. It was difficult, he'd never acted like this towards her. Sure, he'd been annoyed at her before, but she always knew why - like if she'd taken too big of a risk on a hunt, or if she'd ganged up on him with Dean during a prank war and gone a bit too far, but this time, she couldn't think of anything she'd done wrong. She walked towards her room, which was closer than Sam's was so she didn't have to walk by his room, and sat down on her bed. She'd gone for naps in this bed occasionally when Sam wasn't around, but couldn't remember the last time she spent a night in it. It was cold, and the room didn't smell like Sam at all. She changed into pyjama shorts and one of Sam's old t-shirts that she found in the back of her closet, and got into bed. It took her a long time to fall asleep, thoughts of Sam wanting to break up with her floating around her mind.

***

For a moment when she first woke up, she forgot that she was in her own bed. She stretched, and when the other side of her bed was cold, the memory of going to sleep alone hit her, forcing her eyes open. She looked to her side, where she'd usually find Sam, and there was no one there. Sighing, she forced herself up to go and get dressed and ready for another day of research, trying to push her anxiety about Sam to the background of her thoughts.

Dean was in the kitchen when she walked in, a stack of bacon in front of him and a cup of coffee in his hand. He looked up at her as she walked over to the coffee machine. "Did you get some sleep?" He asked and she looked over to him and nodded.

"Yeah, I did actually", she grabbed her cup when it was ready and sat down opposite him. "Look, if you don't want to research today, please don't feel like you have to. This is my case, it's on me, I've been on it for years on my own and I can continue it like that". She figured if Sam was annoyed at having to work on this case, then Dean must be too.

"What're you talking about?" Dean mumbled through a mouth full of bacon before swallowing. "This is a case, we work cases, it's what we do. I can't start a case and then just give it up when we've barely done anything".

She was about to thank him when a noise caught her attention. She turned around to see Sam walking through the doorway and the blood instantly drained from her face, having no idea what he was going to say to her. He walked over to her and leaned down, pressing a kiss to her hairline. "Good morning", he smiled down at her and walked away to get his own coffee.

"Good... morning?" What was going on with him?

"You seem to be in a good mood", Dean remarked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Yeah, had a good night's sleep, ready to get back into the research", Sam sat down beside [Y/N], his words stinging knowing he slept well without her. "You seem a bit quiet, are you alright?" He gently nudged [Y/N] with his shoulder, she just blinked at him. He turned to Dean to see his confused expression too. "What?" He chuckled uncomfortable, glancing between the two of them. "Do I smell or something?"

"Why are you acting so weird?" She shifted to face him properly. "One minute it's all gentle touches and smiles and then the next you're all annoyed and telling me that I'm suffocating you?"

Sam scoffed and furrowed his eyebrows at her. "What are you talking about? Did you have a bad dream or something?"

"Don't do that Sam. Don't fucking gaslight me". She glared at him and Dean shifted in his seat, clearly uncomfortable at sitting opposite the two of them right now. He cleared his throat and mumbled some sort of excuse before leaving the room.

"Get a grip [Y/N], no one's gaslighting you". He rolled his eyes and took a sip of his coffee, leaving [Y/N] staring at him with her eyes wide open. Sam continued to drink his coffee, not saying anything else.

"Okay", she took a deep breath. "This isn't you. You need to tell me what's going on Sam, you're scaring me".

"Scaring you?" He scoffed. "You're a sad excuse for a hunter if you're scared of a normal person".

"You're not acting normal right now. Not at all. You're being weirdly rude, Sam". She watched as he finished his coffee and stood up, leaving his mug in the sink and walking out of the room without replying to her. She sat there for a moment until Dean walked in, whistling one of his favourite songs. "What's wrong with him Dean?" She asked and he stood beside the table, folding his arms and looking down at her.

"What do you mean?"

"You saw how he was, pretending nothing was going on even though he told me to sleep alone last night".

"I mean..." He shrugged at her. "I just passed him in the hallway and he seemed fine, he said he spoke with Charlie and they're going to work out some sort of algorithm for tracking down this witch of yours".

"So you don't think he's being rude or mean at all?

"Rude or mean?" He chuckled. "This is Sam we're talking about. Like I said yesterday, he was probably just tired, but he's ready to get to work today and help with the case".

***

[Y/N] kept her distance from Sam for most of the day, electing to go out for a supply run and then research in her room. When the evening rolled around, Dean came to find her to tell her that he'd cooked dinner for the three of them, and she followed him out into the kitchen where Sam was already seated. He hadn't come to check on her once throughout the entire day, but just like in the motel, he patted the seat beside him and smiled at her, seeming like his usual self. Once again she pushed all of the strangeness to the back of her mind, and let herself enjoy the meal with the brothers. They discussed their findings from the research, Sam explained the system he'd set up and that as soon as any of the nursing homes in their list reported a higher than usual number of deaths, they'd be notified. The conversation moved on to reminiscing about other witch hunts, then moved to funny stories about strange hunts which left all three of them laughing and relaxed until late into the night.

[Y/N] had almost forgotten about Sam's coldness towards her as they walked down the hall to his room, hand in hand as Dean walked with them. "Night Dean", she smiled at him as he headed into his room, and she and Sam walked into Sam's room. Sam let go of her hand and closed the door behind them, then started to take his clothes off, stripping down to his boxers. [Y/N] took her clothes off too, leaving herself in her underwear, and they both got into the bed. Usually, Sam would pull her over and hold her until she fell asleep, but this time, he turned onto his side and faced away from her. Propping herself up on her elbow to look at him, she paused for a moment before saying something. "Sam?"

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Just go to sleep, I'm tired".

[Y/N] lay down and listened as Sam started to softly snore. There was definitely something up with him. He'd never treated her like this before, and since Sam was big on communication and letting people know when he was annoyed, she really couldn't understand what was going on between them. She tried to close her eyes and fall asleep, but she couldn't. She felt uncomfortable in the bed, like she wasn't wanted there. After twenty or so minutes of lying there, she gave up. She slowly and carefully pushed the covers off and stepped out of the bed, her bare feet cold on the floor as she crept out of the room. She made her way to her own room and slid into her bed, pulling the covers up over herself and hugging her pillow tightly. She cried herself to sleep.

***

"[Y/N]? You awake?" Dean knocked on her door. She groaned and opened one eye, grabbing her phone to check the time. 6am.

"What?" She called back, yawning and stretching.

"Get ready to head out onto the road, Sam got a hit and it's only an hour's drive from here", Dean shouted through the door. Sam. As much as she wanted to get out there and find the witch, she didn't want to face Sam. He'd obviously been up and awake for awhile if he'd gotten a hit and had time to go and wake Dean up. He must have noticed that [Y/N] was no longer in his bed, yet he hadn't bothered to go search for her.

She was quick to get washed and dressed and out to the car, where both brothers were waiting for her. She slid into her usual seat in the back, behind Dean, and Sam turned around to smile at her. "Hey, missed you this morning, was everything okay?" He asked. She searched for any sign of deception on his face, but he seemed completely genuine.

"I slept in my own bed last night".

"How come?" He furrowed his eyebrows at her. She gave him the same look back but turned to look towards Dean's direction instead.

"You said it was an hour away?" She asked, avoiding Sam's gaze. Dean started up the car and nodded.

"Yep, so make sure you're prepared. If he's in there, we're gonna want to corner him quickly before he escapes". The three of them didn't speak for the entirety of the car ride, it was early and neither Dean nor [Y/N] were morning people, and Sam knew well enough not to try and treat them like they were.

Dean suggested using the same plan as last time; the Winchesters would go in first and then call [Y/N] if they found the witch. [Y/N] agreed, but she was even less happy about it than last time with how weird Sam had been acting. She wasn't sure what was going on with him, but she didn't exactly trust him 100% at the moment. She waited in the car all but five minutes before deciding to go in after them.

She was greated by a nurse at the front desk, and she asked which way her partners had gone. After the nurse showed her that they had turned left down a hallway, she thanked the nurse and made her way down the hallway, smiling at an old woman on the way who said hello to her. She checked a few of the rooms along the hallway, but three were empty and one just had an elderly man with his family visiting. She reached the end of the hallway and found a staircase. When she reached the top, she was faced with another hallway. She stopped when she reached the first door on the left, which was ajar. She peaked inside and her heart instantly started to race. He was there. The witch was standing at the window, and when he heard her come in, he smirked at her. "It's been a long time", he said. She instantly pulled out her gun and pointed it at him. "Well, that's a bit rude of you", he sniggered and took a step towards her. "Why don't we try and have some manners? We haven't even introduced ourselves. You don't know my name, do you?"

"I don't give a fuck what your name is". She ground her teeth together. "You killed my friend".

"Ah... yes. He was your friend. Not exactly a fair trade, was it?" He looked back outside the window. "I noticed after I'd killed him that your friend had a wedding band, but you didn't".

"Yeah, his wife and kids were devastated. I had to give them the news". She took a step towards him. "And now I'm going to kill you".

"And they call me a monster", he chuckled. "My victims, my patients, are nearing the ends of their lives. They're in pain, they're lost in their own minds. I put them out of their misery. We put them out of their misery. You killed her. You stabbed her, you pushed her out a window, and she died a painful death. Are we really so dissimilar?" He faced her again and raised an eyebrow at her. "I killed your friend, but you killed my partner, my love, my life. Why shouldn't I do the same to you? Would I not be justified, taking him from you, making you suffer?" He looked over the top of her head with a smirk, and she glanced back to find the door being pushed open wider, and Sam walking through, instantly raising his gun and shooting. When she looked back, the witch was gone.

"Don't tell me you were in here having a conversation with him", Sam snarled.

"I was just about to shoot him when you walked in", she went to walk over to where the witch had been standing, but Sam shoved her out of the way, making her stumble and fall against the wall. She grabbed her arm, a sharp pain resonating from her wrist up to her shoulder. "What the hell Sam?!" She shouted at him, but Sam was ignoring her, looking at the space that the witch had been in looking out the window. He turned to her, his jaw clenched and nostrils flaring; she'd never seem him look so angry. He walked over to her, looking down at her and pointing his finger at her. "If you're going to stop to have a chat with every monster we hunt then we won't have space for you on our team. Get your priorities straight, fucking ridiculous". He scoffed. She cowered beneath him, Sam was a large and intimidating man, and being on the receiving end of his anger was terrifying, even for an experienced hunter. "I'm going to find Dean and tell him you fucked up, we're going back to the bunker". He didn't give her a chance to respond before leaving the room.

***

The car ride back to the bunker was weird. Well, Sam was weird. Dean didn't seem too bothered by the witch escaping, he just started to hum along to his music. Sam kept turning around to ask [Y/N] if she was okay since she was quiet. He asked if her wrist was okay after she tripped. Tripped. She didn't know what to say to him, any time she brought up how mean he'd been to her, he acted confused and so did Dean. It was like they thought something weird was going on with her. She didn't know if it was an act, or if he genuinely was completely oblivious to how he'd been behaving. She ignored him as she stared out of the window, thinking over what the witch had said to her. 'Would I not be justified, taking him from you, making you suffer?' She definitely had been suffering over the last few days, and she felt like Sam was being taken from her.

She was quick to get out of the car and go to her room, ignoring Sam's attempts at following after her. She closed the door behind her and lay back on her bed, wondering how on earth she was going to convince Dean that something was wrong with Sam. She decided to call Charlie, since she knew she'd been working with Sam on the notification system, to see if she noticed anything off about him. After a long talk (rant) on the phone about Sam, [Y/N] came to the conclusion that he was completely normal with everyone except towards her, and only when he was alone with her. She'd have to make sure that Dean was around until she figured out how to fix things, because after he'd pushed her and hurt her in the nursing home, she was scared of Sam.

She kept herself locked away in her room until well into the evening. Her stomach was rumbling, and when it got late enough for the likelihood of Sam being in the kitchen to be low, she ventured out into the hallway. She walked quietly down the corridor to the kitchen, and breathed a sigh of relief when it was empty. She quickly got to work, making something that was quick and easy so she could get back to her room. She felt ridiculous, she was anxious about her boyfriend walking into the room. If she couldn't figure out what was wrong with him, she knew she'd have to leave. She couldn't stay in the bunker like this, she couldn't live in fear of someone she loved.

***

It was late at night when she'd finished eating in her room, and she left to go clean up her plate and cutlery in the kitchen. She'd only taken a few steps out of her room when Sam strolled around the corner, bumping into her. "Shit sorry- oh. It's you. Watch where you're going, will you?" He rolled his eyes and shoved past her, but she grabbed his arm.

"Can we -" She was cut off by Sam grabbing her arm and ripping it off his. He pushed her back against the wall, the same sore wrist being the first part of her to hit the wall. She cried out in pain and slid down the wall, cradling her arm as tears started to spill from her eyes.

"Don't touch me", he snarled at her. "God you're so pathetic, crying on the floor. Get over yourself". He walked down the hallway to his room, leaving her there alone. She sat there, staring after him yet again, and just let herself cry. All of the pain, confusion, coldness, rudeness, the roughness, just crashed down on her. She couldn't help it.

"Hey, hey what happened?" Suddenly Dean was crouching down in front of her, pushing her hair out of her face and pulling her chin up to face him. "Shit, [Y/N] tell me what's wrong". He'd never seen her this upset before. Even when hunts went wrong, or she'd been injured by a monster and needed stitches or a trip to the ER, she'd never cried this much. When she continued to cry he gently grabbed her shoulders. "Breathe [Y/N], come on, you're okay". When she gave no sign of calming down, Dean looked down the hallway before looking back at her. "Okay, I'll get Sam".

"No!" She shouted, grabbing onto his flannel with her uninjured hand. "No, please", she sniffed, "please don't". He gave her a look of confusion but nodded.

"Right. You need to explain what's going on though, like right now".

"I... I think my wrist is broken", she looked down at it, it was definitely red and swollen, and if she tried to move it even slightly, a sharp stinging sensation ran throughout her hand and arm. She looked up at him, blinking the tears out of her eyes. "Could you maybe drive me to the hospital?"

"Yeah of course, and you definitely don't want me to get Sam?"

"Definitely not, he broke my wrist Dean. He pushed me, and not for the first time. I can't be around him, not like how he is. I know you don't see it, I know he seems normal to you, but I'm telling you. There's something wrong with him". She explained as he helped to get her up off the ground. They walked towards the car and she explained exactly what Sam had done and said to her over the last few days, and what the witch had said too.

They spoke about it on the way to the hospital, and Dean told her that he believed her, that he would help her figure it all out and that he would confront Sam about it later without [Y/N]. "You're like a little sister to me, and I know it sounds like a lie coming from me but I don't give a shit if it's Sam or if it's Lucifer that's hurting you, I won't allow it". He pulled up into a parking space before turning to her. "I'm sorry you've had to deal with this and I'm sorry I dismissed you when you tried telling me about it before. I'll help you".

"Thanks", she smiled at him. Dean really was like an older brother to her too, and now that she had someone on her team, especially Dean of all people, protecting her, she was a little bit less scared of going home.

***

"Okay, you should be good to go in just a minute. I'll write you up a prescription for some pain killers and then you can go on home", the doctor smiled kindly at [Y/N] as she finished up putting a cast on her wrist. She had a fractured wrist, not too bad, but it was still throbbing. The doctor left the room and [Y/N] turned to Dean, who'd been sitting patiently with her during the assessment.

"You remember when we went to the first nursing home, and the witch wasn't there?" [Y/N] asked, and Dean nodded. "Did you say you and Sam stuck together or did you say you split up?"

"We looked around the place together, but then split up when talking to the nurses and some of the residents", Dean said. "How come?"

"Just something the witch said. I think maybe he was there, and I think he may have done something to Sam", [Y/N] bit her lip, Sam being the only thing on her mind for days now.

"You think he's cursed?" Dean sat up a bit straighter. "I'll check his room and coat pockets for hexbags when we get back", he nodded.

"Yeah, that would be good. What if it's not a hexbag though? What if it's something we need the witch to undo?"

"Then we'll find the son of a bitch and make him fix it. There's no way in hell I'm letting Sam walk around cursed for the rest of his life", Dean scoffed. "One way or another we'll get him back to normal, I promise".

"Okay", the doctor walked back into the room with a prescription in hand, interrupting their cinversation. "You can fill this at the station downstairs, you'll pass it by on your way out", she handed the piece of paper to [Y/N]. "Come back and see me in six weeks, we'll get that off you and you'll be good as new", she smiled.

"Thank you", [Y/N] nodded and stood up, Dean standing with her and moving to shake the doctor's hand. The two of them left to fill the prescription and drive home. [Y/N] quietly hoped that Dean would find a hexbag and destroy it, and that would be the end of all her problems, but she knew not to let her hopes get too high. It was never that simple.

***

Dean didn't find any hexbags. He did however have a conversation with Sam, who seemed completely oblivious to how he'd been behaving when alone with [Y/N]. He told Dean that he thought [Y/N] was acting weird, he thought she wanted to break up with him because she'd been sleeping alone and avoiding him during the day. He was horrified when Dean told him about her wrist, and he went to apologise to her but Dean stopped him. Sam wasn't allowed to be alone with [Y/N] until they found the witch, and [Y/N] wasn't too enthusiastic about being around Sam even with Dean there. Sam respected her wishes, even though it felt like he was being stabbed through the heart, and kept to himself, only coming out of his room when [Y/N] texted him to say she was in her room and wasn't going to accidentally bump into him. They texted a little bit, and Sam was sweet through text, but it wasn't the same. She missed him. She missed his touch.

It was a week of this arrangement before Sam got a notification about another possible nursing home, and the three of them wasted no time in setting out onto the road. They suffered through yet another silent journey, this one nearly the entire day before they stopped in a motel for the night. [Y/N] had asked for two rooms, not wanting to share with Sam, but there was only one room left.

"I'll take the couch", she said quickly and she dropped her bag down onto it, noting that there were only two beds. Sam looked at her, a mixture of pleading and guilt in his eyes, but he didn't say anything. She avoided his gaze as she pulled out a towel and her pyjamas. "I'm gonna shower and then get some sleep, Dean will you be here when I get out?" She asked, not being able to address Sam without visions of him snarling at her.

"I think we'll take a look at the local bar, Sammy hasn't been out in awhile, right Sam?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at him. This was their silent conversation about how they figured [Y/N] would fall asleep more easily if she had the room to herself.

"Okay", she gave him a small smile, "Don't stay out too late". She finally looked at Sam and his eyes widened in surprise. "We want to have all of our energy to fix things tomorrow". She quickly walked to the bathroom and closed the door before Sam could say anything back. She sighed as she leaned back against the door, listening to the low rumble of the brothers talking briefly before she heard the room's door open and close. She pushed herself off the door and looked at herself in the mirror. "We'll find him tomorrow. We'll get Sam back to normal, it will all be okay", she tried to convince herself, but she didn't sound very convincing.

***

It took a long time for [Y/N] to fall asleep on the couch that night. It wasn't comfortable, there was noise coming from the TV in the room next door, and it was cold. She'd become so used to cuddling up to Sam whenever they were away on hunts that she'd forgotten how cold she could feel without him. It was late into the night when she fell asleep, and when Sam and Dean came back. They were both tired, and Sam instinctively walked over to [Y/N] and kneeled down, noticing that she'd pushed her cover off in her sleep, he grabbed it and gently pulled it back over her. He leaned towards her to kiss her forehead, and he sighed as he smelled her familiar shampoo in her hair. He brought his hand up to brush against her cheek and push her hair out of the way, realising that it had been too long since he'd properly seen her face.

Dean had drank quite a bit at the bar, and mixed with his tiredness from driving all day, he didn't think twice about walking into the bathroom and locking the door behind him, leaving Sam alone with [Y/N]. As soon as the door locked, Sam's hand in [Y/N]'s hair tightened, gripping a handful of it. She gasped as she woke up and tried to grab his hand, but he instantly covered her mouth with his free hand. At first when she looked at him, she thought a stranger had walked into the room. There was no resemblance of the Sam she knew and loved in the man in front of her. He looked angry, dangerous, and he was far too close to her.

"You", he snarled and shook his head. "You disgust me". She desperately tried to pull his hand off her mouth, but with one hand in a cast it was proving too difficult. She had no idea where Dean was, and she was terrified. "You're so fucking pathetic, having Dean act as a bodyguard for you, to keep you safe in your own home. You can't even look at me without terror in your eyes, I don't know how I ever liked you. I don't know why I ever wanted you. Maybe I didn't, maybe you were just there, and easy". He tightened his grip in her hair and pushed her down into the couch. "Life was better before you. Did I ever tell you that? When it was just me and Dean, I had my own room, my own space, and I wasn't constantly distracted on hunts by having my 'girlfriend' there, slowing us down". His grip in her hair suddenly let up, and she was confused until his hand travelled down to her neck and he began to apply pressure. "Life will be better when you're gone too".

She tried to scream, to bite his hand, to push him away, but Sam was far stronger than she was. She was becoming lightheaded, she couldn't breathe, and Sam's face was starting to become clouded by dark spots. She didn't hear Dean shouting, and she didn't know when Sam's touch turned to Dean's. Dean shook her shoulders and his hand cupped her cheek, but she couldn't open her eyes. "Come on", he said, leaning his face down to try and hear her breathing. "Come back to us, [Y/N]", he pleaded.

"D...Dean?" She whispered, her eyes still closed.

"Yes, it's me, you're safe, I promise. Can you open your eyes for me please?"

"Is Sam here?" She asked. "I-" She cleared her throat and it burned. "I don't want to see him".

"Okay, okay, you don't have to. Give me one minute". Dean looked behind himself at Sam, who was sitting on one of the beds staring at his hands in disbelief and confusion. "Sam", Dean said lowly, and caught his attention. He stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys, throwing them to Sam. "Hotel Winchester tonight". [Y/N] waited until she heard the door open and close again before she opened her eyes. She found Dean looking down at her, his face flooded with concern. "Do we need to go to the hospital?" His finger traced lightly on her neck, and he frowned at the red fingerprints left behind by Sam. She shook her head, and reached up to grab his hand in hers. As soon as he looked into her eyes, she began to cry. She couldn't help it. The person she loved most in the world had just tried to kill her. She knew he was cursed, she knew this wasn't really him, but it was his face, his voice, and he wasn't possessed, there was no one else inside him.

Dean pulled her up and into his chest, his hand resting on the back of her head as she wrapped her arms around his waist. He gently rocked her back and forth as she let it all out, whispering soothing things to her, trying to convince her, and himself, that they'd fix everything in the morning.

***

[Y/N] was alone when she woke up the following morning, and she was no longer on the couch, but in one of the beds. She looked around and noticed that the bathroom door was open, it didn't sound like anyone was in there. Her eyes landed on a piece of paper on the table beside the couch, and she got out of bed to see what it said.

You need to rest. We've got this. Call me if you need anything. - Dean

She put it down and looked out of the window. It was raining, the sky was a dark grey and it looked cold, but she didn't feel as cold as she had during the night. She looked down and realised her hands were covered by the sleeves of a flannel that was too big for her. She recognised it as Dean's. She must have cried herself to sleep in his arms, and he must have put her to bed after. She hugged herself and sat down at the table, staring at the note. She stared at the note until the sky lightened and the rain stopped, until the rumble of the Impala filled her ears and headlights flashed through the window, pulling her from dark thoughts. They were back.

She braced herself as the door opened, and she watched Dean walk in. She knew Sam was standing just out of sight, but he didn't come inside. Dean walked over to her and crouched down to look up at her. "Hey", she said. Her throat was still sore, and her voice was hoarse.

"Hey", Dean smiled at her. He glanced at the door and cleared his throat before looking back at her. "We killed the witch. I know you wanted to do it, but we cornered him, and it was the only way to break the curse".

"He's dead?" She looked into Dean's eyes, and all she could see was uncertainty. He had no idea how she was going to react or what was going on inside her head.

"He's dead. You were right, he cursed Sam in that first nursing home. Sam didn't remember it until we killed the witch. And uh..", he glanced at the door again. "And Sam should be back to normal, but we can't really test that without you".

"Yeah", she took a shaky breath. "He hurt me".

"I know. If you don't want to test it today, we don't have to. I won't leave you alone with Sam until you're ready, okay?" He gently squeezed her knees and she nodded her head.

"I want to try it now".

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. He could see Sam fidgeting out of the corner of his eye, trying to listen. "Are you sure?" Dean asked her.

"Yes. You can tell him he can come inside".

Before Dean could even call Sam, he stepped inside. He stood awkwardly in the doorway, desperately wanting to run over to her and gather her up in his arms, but he knew he couldn't. He suddenly felt more clear-headed than he had since the first nursing home. It was like he'd been in some sort of trance, and now he could remember everything he'd said and done to [Y/N] while they'd been alone. "Hey", he said.

"Hi", she said back.

"How do you want to do this? Want me to leave now or do you want me to stay for a bit first?" Dean asked, standing up from his crouching position.

"You can leave now, but can you just stay outside and not go anywhere?" She asked, and Sam nodded in agreement, scared of himself now too.

"Of course. I'll be right outside if you need me". He leaned down to kiss the top of her head before he walked over to Sam and patted his back. He left the room, and for a few moments neither Sam or [Y/N] moved.

"I don't feel... angry or anything", Sam said, his voice slightly shaky.

"That's good", [Y/N] nodded. 'Do you.. um.. feel like you're annoyed at me?"

"No", Sam shook his head. "I only feel love for you". He clenched his jaw in anticipation of what [Y/N] had to say to him. He was extremely anxious that she was about to break up with him and tell him that she never wanted to see him again. He never wanted to see himself again now that he remembered everything he'd done.

[Y/N] let out a cautious sigh of relief. "Sam-".

"[Y/N] I am so sorry", he blurted out, and for the first time, she looked him in the eyes and saw tears threatening to spill over. He was her Sam again. "I... I have no idea how to fix it, I love you, please believe me that I never would have hurt you if I wasn't cursed".

"I know. I knew there was something wrong with you, I knew you would never want to hurt me. I'm not angry with you, and I still love you". She gave him a small smile, but she could feel a lump in her throat as she swallowed back her nervousness.

"Thank you", he took a step towards her, but she flinched back and he froze in his spot.

"Sorry", she mumbled, looking down. "I do still love you, but I need some time. You... cursed you", she corrected herself, "tried to kill me last night".

"You're right", he took a step back again. "Yeah, you take all the time you need, and when you.. I mean, if you want to be around me again, I'll be here".

"Thank you. I've missed you a lot. And thanks for killing the witch, I've been hunting him for so many years, I can't believe he's finally dead".

"He won't be hurting anyone else. Or cursing anyone else", Sam added. He walked over to the door and opened it, signalling for Dean to come back in.

"All good?" Dean asked as he stepped inside, and both Sam and [Y/N] nodded. "Great!" Dean clapped his hands together. "How about getting some food? On me", he winked at [Y/N] and she smiled, getting up to walk over to them but still keeping a distance between her and Sam.

***

[Y/N] kept her distance for the next few weeks. She continued to sleep in her own room, though not very well as her nights were often accompanied by nightmares of Sam trying to kill her. She still spent more time with Dean and kept to herself a lot, but she had begun warming up to Sam more. She no longer flinched whenever he moved suddenly, or whenever he got too close. She no longer hurried to leave a room whenever he walked in. It was a painfully slow process, for both of them, but it was getting better. Sam respected her space, but was no longer too anxious to make small talk with her over breakfast, or discussing something with her while researching.

It was a cool, early morning when [Y/N] woke up from her first night's sleep that went without a nightmare. She felt refreshed and relaxed for the first time since the curse. She took her time getting up, enjoying the warmth under her covers before starting the day. When her stomach started to rumble, she pushed her covers back and quickly slid into her slippers and wrapped her dressing gown around herself. She strolled to the kitchen and paused in the doorway. Sam was at the sink, washing up. She leaned against the doorway and watched as he worked, and she felt no anxiety or fear as he stepped back for a moment to shake his hands dry and grab another mug to clean.

"Hey", she finally said, and he looked around at her.

"Hey, good morning". He smiled and nervously tucked his hair behind his ear, getting it wet in the process. [Y/N] giggled at him and his cheeks turned pink as he turned back around to turn the water off. She took a deep breath and stepped down into the kitchen. She walked over to him as he was drying his hands, and wrapped her arms around his waist, tucking herself into his side. He lifted his arm up and looked down at her, and not being able to help the smile spreading across his face, he lowered his arm down around her shoulders. She took a deep breath, his familiar scent bringing back memories of the two of them cuddling up together, and she relaxed into him. He turned so that she was in front of him, and he brought his other hand up to thread his fingers through her hair, holding her to his chest. He leaned his chin on top of her head and closed his eyes. His heart was beating quickly, but it was out of excitement instead of worry. "This is nice", he breathed out, and he felt her nod and tighten her grip around his waist.

"Do you have plans for today?" She asked, looking up at him and leaning her chin against his chest. He looked down at her and shook his head. "Can we just hang out today? Maybe watch a movie or something?"

"Yes. Of course, whatever you want to do, I'm here".

"Sam?"

"Yeah Sweetheart?"

"Can you kiss me?"

He smiled as he leaned down, and she leaned up on her toes to meet him halfway. The kiss was gentle, and neither of them could help but moan into it. [Y/N] slid her hands up to Sam's shoulders, while he let his hands drop down to her waist. When they broke away, [Y/N] could see nothing but adoration in his eyes. "I really missed you", she said.

"I love you [Y/N]. The witch gave me an insight into what it would be like to lose you, and I never want it. I don't want to feel like I have over the last few weeks again, and I never want you to be afraid of me again. I promise that I will love you and keep you safe for as long as I live". There was no hint of uncertainty in his voice, he meant every word.

"I love you too". She said, meaning every word too.

The end

Sam Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx

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